Picket Fence Surprise

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Picket Fence Surprise Page 7

by Kris Fletcher


  “Yes. A treasure map on the front. How did you guess?”

  “Logical conclusion.”

  Of course. And that was good, she told herself. Better than thinking that they might be on the same wavelength.

  “And those will be photos.” She pointed to the empty boxes. “Spots around town, of course, but one or two that aren’t as obvious. You know. Ones that convey that feeling of something hidden.”

  “Yeah. Well, the good news is, this isn’t a difficult fix. You need to do a manual setup, I think, instead of one of the built-in templates. And you need to put in more breaks. But it shouldn’t be too hard to do.”

  “It never is, until I actually have to do it.” She frowned at the laptop. “It’s so clear in my head. I hate to mess it up. And yeah, I know, a bit more practice and I should be able to do it myself, but I don’t have time to—”

  Oh.

  Parenting Truth Number 7: Sometimes, the answer is right in front of you.

  “You did such a great job with the résumé. Could I hire you to work some computer magic for me? Make this as good as it is in my head?”

  His grin was ridiculously boyish. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  “You will? That’s wonderful.” She pointed at him. “But I am absolutely paying you this time.”

  “Heather, it will take me half an hour, tops. It’s not worth payment.”

  “Forget it. I’m not letting you have the files unless I can pay.”

  He sighed and took another cookie. “Compromise. I tell you what half an hour of my time is worth, and you make a donation in that amount to the food bank.”

  She couldn’t argue with that. Except it still struck her as taking advantage of him.

  “Donation to the food bank and dinner. With real food this time.”

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to grab them by the echo and shove them back inside. What the hell was she thinking? She was too aware of Xander as it was, and if there was anything less seductive than pizza and store-bought cookies consumed to the tune of little voices singing “Old MacDonald,” she didn’t want to imagine it. But to have him come back? Without any kids to act as a buffer?

  Travis always told her she was her own worst enemy. She hated to know he’d called that one correctly.

  “Dinner, huh?”

  Well, great. He liked the idea.

  “I don’t think I could turn that down. But I tell you what—I’ll make the changes here, with you, so you can follow along. That way you’ll know what to do next time.”

  Her pulse slowed a little. That sounded very businesslike. Efficient. Certainly not like he was dying to be alone with her.

  Good. As it should be. A friend helping a friend, and she was an idiot to be panicking, and anyway, it only took two to tango, and a laptop would definitely count as a third party. She was totally in the clear.

  “I know you need to get moving on this,” Xander said. “I’m busy the next few nights, but how about Tuesday?”

  She ran through her schedule in her head. She had Millie until after dinner tomorrow, working late and then meeting Hank on Monday, Millie Wednesday... “Sure. Tuesday works.”

  “Sounds great.” Xander picked up the notebook. “I can’t wait to see what we can do. With the brochure, I mean.”

  Of course that was what he meant.

  Note to self: do not, under any circumstances, serve wine with this dinner.

  * * *

  MONDAY NIGHT, HEATHER slid into the booth at Comeback Cove’s one and only Tim Hortons and set her favorite iced cappuccino in front of her. Across the table, Hank nodded over the rim of his mug.

  “Hi,” she said. “Sorry I’m late. There was an accident on the 416 that slowed things.”

  “Not a problem. Millie’s at craft night at the church for—” he checked his phone “—another three-quarters of an hour. We shouldn’t need that long. Besides, Brynn is still on her super-nutrition kick, so I’m enjoying every moment of this.” He gestured to his maple-dipped doughnut. Heather’s empty stomach rumbled.

  “How is Noah?”

  “Happy as a clam.”

  “Is he eating solid foods yet?”

  “Nope, and if he’s smart, he’ll wait until Brynn has moved on from the kale and quinoa special.”

  Hank could complain all he wanted. The softness around his eyes told Heather that kale and quinoa were a small price to pay for the joy he’d found in Marriage 2.0.

  She hadn’t been kidding when she told Travis she was happy for Hank. Everyone had a different path to bliss, and if his involved someone who made him goofy and besotted, then more power to him. But for herself? No, thank you. She’d tried it once and made a royal hash of it. Her focus now was on work—wherever that might be—and being the best mother she could to Millie. And that was enough.

  A young woman in very high heels walked slowly past, paused and seemed to be scanning the shop. After a moment, she sat down two booths behind Hank, leaving a trail of some spicy perfume in her wake.

  Whoa.

  Hank’s nose wrinkled, and he pulled out his phone again. “So what does your month look like?”

  With that, they set about what had become a new routine: comparing schedules, their own and Millie’s, making any necessary tweaks to ensure at least one of them would be at every concert, Guide outing or whatever other event parents could attend.

  It was a routine that Heather could never have foreseen. Truth to tell, she had a sneaking suspicion that Brynn had been the one to suggest it after Heather moved back to the area. But Hank was the one who had agreed to go along with it, and she was grateful. Millie had as seamless a transition as was possible between their homes. Heather couldn’t speak for Hank, but for herself, she was amazed at how well they had learned to work together for their daughter’s benefit.

  She sent up a fast prayer that a transition to shared custody wouldn’t mess up everything they had achieved.

  “And then there’s Ian and Darcy’s wedding.” Hank pointed to a date two weekends away. “You’re going, right?”

  “Right,” Heather said, only to have her attention hijacked. A very tall, very familiar man had entered from the opposite door and was sliding into Perfume Girl’s booth.

  Whoa.

  Heather glanced over Hank’s shoulder, past the now-empty booth behind him and beyond Perfume Girl’s back to risk a look at Xander. He leaned forward, hands clasped loosely around his mug, a strangely reserved smile on his face.

  Was he on a date?

  “Heather?”

  She shook her head, dragging her focus back to Hank. “Sorry. Brain freeze.” She picked up the cup with her frozen drink and wiggled the straw. “I think Millie is looking forward to doing her junior bridesmaid thing.”

  “Yeah. She said flower girls are supposed to be little kids, but when Ian asked her to be in charge of walking Cady down the aisle, all of a sudden she couldn’t wait.”

  Of course not. Millie adored Cady. As had been so very clear just two nights ago, right there in Heather’s dining room, right after Xander had held on to her wrist for a second too long and pounced on the offer of dinner.

  Right after he finished his date, of course.

  Heather took another slug of her drink, hoping the iciness would shock her into sense. For one thing, she had no idea what Xander was doing with Perfume Girl. For another, it was none of her business. They were friends. That was all, and she was being an idiot.

  “I think Millie and Cady will be adorable walking down the aisle together.” She spoke deliberately and a little louder, checking for any reaction from Xander when she mentioned his daughter’s name. Nothing. He must be too focused on his companion.

  Which is how it should be, Heather.

  “Did Mill
ie’s dress come in? When I asked her the other day, she said she didn’t have it yet.”

  Hank looked at her blankly. “Her dress?”

  “For the wedding. Remember, she went to Ottawa with Brynn and Darcy and they all picked it out?”

  “Well, yeah. I remember that. But I don’t think...hang on.” He hit a button on his phone. “Hey, babe.”

  Perfume Girl laughed.

  So did Xander.

  “’Kay, thanks. See you soon.” Hank ended the call and scrubbed his hand over his eyes. “Um, it seems there’s been a little breakdown in communication. About the dress.”

  “She doesn’t have it?”

  “There was a problem. It came in, but it was the wrong color, so they had to order it again, but it was back-ordered. It’s supposed to be here by the end of the week. Plenty of time for her to go try it on and whatever before the wedding, but... The thing is, the store is only open until five on Saturday and closed Sunday, and Brynn is taking Noah to her mom’s this weekend and I’m booked solid, so...”

  Heather’s promise to work on getting extra time with Millie—even just a day on one weekend—suddenly seemed a lot more plausible.

  She knew Hank wouldn’t ask her to do it. He would say that it was his weekend, or that he didn’t want to impose. She knew that in reality, he was still uncertain about how much he could trust her. Some part of him was still waiting for her to abandon Millie again, and that, she knew, had to be why he hadn’t said anything when Millie asked him about joint custody.

  She would have to proceed with caution. But she would have to proceed.

  “Listen, Hank.” She pushed her drink aside and leaned forward, choosing her words carefully. “When I moved back here, I promised I wasn’t aiming to upset things. You are an amazing father, and I thank God every day that Millie has you. Both now and when I...when I wasn’t around. I have always known that she was happy and safe with you.” Safer than with Heather, that was certain. “But she’s growing up. Girls want—need—more time with their moms as they get older. Brynn is as wonderful as you are, and I trust her completely. This is nothing on her, okay? But I am Millie’s mom. There are going to be times when it makes sense for me to be the one who does the Guide campout, or handles the sleepover, or makes a girls’ day out of a dress fitting, even if it’s not my weekend. I’m here.”

  Hank’s face came as close to physically closing as she had ever thought a human face could do.

  “Millie talked to you about changing things up.”

  The fact that he phrased it as a statement, not a question, told her everything she needed to know.

  “She did, yes. Back in June.” Quietly, she added, “Which I understand is a couple of months after she talked to you about it.”

  He poked at the crumb left on his plate. “I suppose you want to know why I didn’t say anything to you.”

  Had she wondered? Of course. Was she a little pissed? To be honest, yeah. But did she have that right, given their history?

  Probably not.

  “I mean, I was curious. But I know you had a reason.”

  She wasn’t sure if the slight shake of his head was from agreement, denial or disbelief.

  “She brought it up out of the blue, right around Easter. She kept talking about Cady and some kid in her class, and I thought, maybe she had just, I don’t know. Heard something. Plus Noah had a cold and none of us were getting any sleep, and I wondered if she might be thinking your place would be a lot more peaceful.”

  “Understandable.”

  “Yeah, I kept thinking about bunking somewhere else myself for a couple of nights there.” He gave his plate a little push before glancing briefly in her direction. “The point is, things were unsettled, and she never mentioned it again, and I thought maybe it was a spur of the moment thing. Or at least I told myself that was what it was.”

  “It doesn’t look that way now.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” He leaned back in the booth, staring through the plate-glass window. Heather was pretty sure he wasn’t paying any attention to the headlights of the cars traversing the parking lot.

  “How long are you going to be here this time, Heather?”

  She couldn’t say she expected the question, but neither did it catch her by surprise.

  “At least until Millie goes to university. Maybe longer.”

  “What about the job?”

  How much to tell him? “I’m not taking any transfers. No promotions, since that would mean going back to Vancouver. And I’m...”

  She hadn’t planned to mention anything yet, but if ever there was a perfect opening, this was it. It would be silly to hold off on saying anything simply because her plan said to wait a bit longer.

  “I’m also looking for something more local. Closer to Comeback Cove, so I have more flexibility.”

  Hank’s eyebrows pulled together, but still he said nothing.

  “I’m here for the duration, Hank. I swear it.”

  “You made promises before.” The mildness of his tone didn’t fool her.

  “I did. And I know... Hank, I was so messed up back then. You and I weren’t working. You know it as well as I do, and seriously, the deck was so stacked against us that I’m amazed we lasted as long as we did. I didn’t want to leave Millie. I didn’t want to leave you, really, but I knew I had to. I thought...”

  What should she say?

  She lifted her head, searching for words, strength, inspiration.

  Instead, she found herself looking past the empty booth and straight into Xander’s steady gaze.

  There’s a time to think and a time to do. Take a chance. Go with your gut.

  “I knew I was in no shape to take care of her on my own. I knew your family would step in and help. I knew I was hurting you, and her, and I thought... I believed...that I couldn’t take her away from you. That all of us would be better off if I left alone.”

  “So you’re saying you did it out of the kindness of your heart?” Hank asked, then shook his head impatiently and raised his hand. “No. Don’t. That was...we’ve been down this road before, and I was out of line. Sorry.”

  “Considering how many apologies I’ve owed you over the years, I’d say the scales are still way over in your favor.”

  He hunched forward, elbows braced on the table, looking at her so intensely that she was sure any gossips in residence would be keeling over in excitement.

  “If it was just me on the line, Heather, I wouldn’t have a problem. We’ve both grown up a lot, and I can see that you’re... I don’t know. Stronger than you were back then. But we’re talking about Mills.” He laced his fingers together. “God help me, sometimes I still have to stop myself from telling her she shouldn’t get—”

  “Too close to me?”

  “Too comfortable.”

  She absolutely understood. But still, it hurt.

  “I guess that only time will tell us if you’re right,” she said softly. “But right now, while my schedule is still so tight, all I’m asking for is some flexibility. Some accommodations to make sure Millie is getting what she needs. And only when it makes sense for all of us.”

  “Yeah.” He pushed back, one finger tapping on the table. She tried to keep from holding her breath. This ball was definitely in his court.

  “Fine.” It came out short and sharp, but it was still the sweetest word she’d heard in forever. “We’ll take things as they come. I don’t know...but with it being my busy season, and Brynn operating on Noah’s schedule and all...it will probably be easier on Mills anyway. Give her a chance to have some time that doesn’t revolve around the baby. And I guess it would be shortsighted to ask my mom to take her to get the dress when you’re here and able.”

  And so very willing.

  “Just for the day, though. Not
an overnight.”

  She bit back her disappointment. They could still make it special.

  “As for the rest of it,” he began, but she stopped his words with a raised hand.

  “Let’s not get into that yet, okay? We both know she’s serious, we know it needs to be addressed, but we both time to deal with...with everything that means.” She gave him what she hoped was a perky, we’re-all-in-this-together kind of smile. “One step at a time.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

  Behind Hank, Perfume Girl stood, hitched her purse on her shoulder and strode out of the shop as fast as her stilettos would take her. From the short clipped steps, Heather would guess that things hadn’t gone in Xander’s favor.

  “Is there anything else?” Hank asked. “I’m going to have to pick her up soon.”

  “I think that’s it.”

  “In that case, I’d better hit the road.” He slid out of the booth, dragging his cup with him. “Talk to you later.”

  She let him leave, sitting alone with the last sips of her drink. It was melted at the bottom, but she didn’t care. She’d laid the groundwork tonight. The issue was on the table, and she’d snagged an extra day with her girl, a regular mom-and-daughter day that she could still turn into something special.

  Funny how a night she had been worrying over could leave her ready to bounce in her seat.

  She glanced over to Xander’s table. He was still there, arms outstretched on either side of his mug, staring into space. She was no body language expert but she was pretty sure the date had been a bust.

  She caught his eye and lifted her empty cup in his direction. He seemed startled, shook it off and favored her with a grin that was far more enthusiastic than she would have expected. He must be the type to bounce back fast.

  He raised his mug, saluted her back and drank, his eyes on her the whole time. The warmth in her bubbled and expanded, and she ended up laughing, then choking, slapping at her chest and snickering at her own silliness. Xander rolled his eyes, shook his head and left the shop without a word.

 

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