All That I Want: A Queensbay Small Town Romance

by Drea Stein

  Colleen took a final look around the store. It was as ready as it ever could be, she decided. She had forgone the sidewalk tent, wanting instead to draw people into the space, to see the transformation from Treasure Emporium to La Belle Vie. A small table, placed near the door, a piece she had refinished herself and embellished with some trompe l’oeil handiwork, held cups of lavender lemonade, while extra copies of her book were piled near the cash register. All the displays were in place and the inventory stocked. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and opened them. She smiled, letting the ball of tension wash out of her. This was everything she had dreamed it would be and more. It had come out perfectly: her store and the start of a real life for her and Adele.

  She took a step outside, breathed in the warm, sunny air. Tents and pavilions were stretched along High Street, the merchants out and about, doing as she was doing, checking and fussing over their displays with last-minute pride. Now all they needed were people to show up. Shelby, the manager at the Osprey Arms, had told her that they were all booked up, so she had to figure that everyone was getting up, eating their eggs and toast, sipping their coffee while they pored over the maps she’d had made up, highlighting all the different storefronts.

  There was an early rush, as shoppers made their way around. And now, just before lunch, a bit of a lull had settled in. She took a breath and tapped a few numbers into her calculator. Yes, it had been a good morning. She had sold candles, some shirts, a few pairs of earrings, and twelve sets of tea towels. She smiled at that as she straightened the scarves draped with what she hoped was Parisian chic around the old tailor’s mannequin she had found in the basement and then checked on pots of lavender she had made up, right next to the soap the Spillways Farm had brought her. She checked and double-checked prices.

  “Well, well, what do we have here?”

  Colleen stiffened, then told herself to relax her shoulders. It was just Amy Waters, trying to make trouble.

  “What a lovely day to be out shopping,” Colleen countered, even as she was overpowered by the scent of expensive perfume, too heavy for this spring day. Amy, model thin, dressed in tight white jeans, a sleeveless blue and white shirt, walked into the shop. Colleen was reminded of what Lydia had called her: a Stepford wife. Colleen thought Amy looked too angry to be a robot, but there was something so tightly drawn about her that Colleen wanted to give her a lavender sachet to help her chill out.

  “And what a charming little place this is,” Amy said and sniffed as she started to wander around. Colleen fought back her irritation. She was tired of everyone referring to this as her “little place.” It was a real-life, brick-and-mortar business, with a profit margin and operating capital, business cards, and even a website, for goodness’ sake.

  “You should check out the ceramics,” Colleen said smoothly. “They’re by the artist Lydia Snow. She has pieces at The Met and is represented by the Norman gallery in New York and London.”

  Amy actually lingered for a moment in front of the selection of Lydia’s pieces. She had given Colleen a few more pieces, and they were all stunning. Already a vase and a bowl had sold, and Colleen was betting the candlesticks would go before the end of the day.

  In a monotone voice, Amy said, “You know he won’t stay. You may think he will. Maybe he’ll fix your sink or put together your bookshelves, talk about the house you could live in someday, but he won’t have any intention of doing it. He’ll just build up your dreams to crush them. You don’t know what he did to me and my daughter.”

  “What?” Colleen said. She wanted to say nothing, to not react, but she couldn’t keep it in.

  “Oh, I guess he just told you his side of the story. That it didn’t work out? We were going to get married. And then he just changed his mind. You can’t trust him. Like I said, you think he’s in there, playing daddy, playing the good boyfriend, and then some other broken thing will catch his eye, and he’ll need the protect her, not you, and leave you high and dry.”

  “Look, Amy …”

  Amy didn’t let her finish. “You’ll get what you deserve. Your type always does.”

  Colleen watched her go, for once, completely speechless.

  She tried to put Amy’s words out of her mind, even as she concentrated on the flow of customers. The candlesticks sold, and she had a request for a few more. She was ready to close up, wind down, rest her tired feet when she heard the tinkle of the bell, somehow knew it was him before she really saw him. He was grinning.

  “I was going to bring you champagne. Haven’t seen this place so crowded in years. I think all the merchants are locked away, counting all of the money they made. What an amazing job.”

  Normally she would be thrilled at his words and with seeing him. He looked handsome, and his words and manner were charming, irresistible. He stood inside the door of the shop in his work boots, khakis, and polo shirt. His hair was neatly combed, and his blue eyes twinkled. Everything about him screamed good guy, but she hadn’t been able to get what Amy had said out of her head. Thoughts about how she had let him into their lives, how she had violated her own rules about not getting involved, swirled.

  It was making Colleen sick to her stomach to realize that she may have betrayed her own interests, and, worse yet, her daughter’s.

  He came to her, as if he was going to swing her up into his arms. She held up a hand, flat, so that he almost ran into it, and said, “Are you going to tell me about what went on between you and Amy Anderson? Or is she treating me like this because she is still holding a grudge about that essay?”

  Jake looked at her uneasily, then finally answered, “It’s me she doesn’t like. We dated.”

  “I could tell.”

  “I thought it was pretty clear that it was a casual kind of relationship, but I think she had other ideas. I mean in high school we dated, I mean before you, and then about five years ago, she came back to town, and, well, we took up again. I think she wanted more than I wanted to give.”

  “Like what?”

  “You know: marriage, kids, the whole thing. It’s what she wanted.”

  “She has a kid,” Colleen said, thinking about the math of the whole thing.

  “Mackenzie’s not my daughter,” Jake said quickly.

  “I wasn’t accusing you of that,” Colleen said. She knew that wasn’t the case. At least no one around town had said that. Amy was married to a man named Chad, who seemed like another nice guy, maybe a little mild-mannered, a little in awe of his wife.

  “I thought we had broken up, and she was okay with it. Apparently she wasn’t as clear on that as I was. She came to me and said she was pregnant. And that it was mine. I was pretty certain it wasn’t. Things got contentious. But let’s just say we all know for sure who the baby’s father is, and it’s not me. Chad’s Mackenzie’s father and he wanted to marry Amy. Be a family. That should be that.”

  She swallowed. “You sound pretty callow about the whole thing.”

  “I’m not. She tried to …” he started to say, but stopped.

  “Trap you?” Colleen said.

  “I made it clear from the beginning, what it was, what we had.”

  “And it was …?”

  “Casual. She thought she could change me.”

  “But you don’t want to be changed, do you? Are you going to go around and chase girls for the rest of your life?”

  “You’re putting words in my mouth. Look, you’re the one who keeps pulling back from me,” he said.

  She stopped, struck by the accusation.

  He went on: “I want more, Colleen. I have always wanted more with you. That’s why it never worked with anyone else. I know that now. Maybe I always knew it, and now you’re here, and I want all of you, and you don’t want me.”

  Colleen felt her stomach churning and her breathing grow more and more shallow.

  “Breathe, Colleen, you don’t need to panic because someone says they care for you,” he said, looking at her intently.

  Colleen kne
w that if tried to touch her, her resolve would break.

  “What do you think of me?” she asked quietly. She had to know.

  “What?”

  “Do you think I tried to trap Adele’s father?”

  “What? No. Did you deliberately get pregnant so he’d marry you?”

  She laughed, but it was bitter. “Adele was definitely unexpected. By the time it happened, it was pretty clear Olivier was on his way out of the picture. I never asked for anything from him. But I took his money. For her. And before that, I took the job he offered, and the apartment …” She trailed off, wondering what he thought of her.

  “It’s different.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re different. Trust me, if that child had been mine, I would have taken responsibility for her.”

  “Would you have married Amy?”

  “I didn’t love her. I don’t love her. That would have been wrong, don’t you think? I would have provided for that child, I would have been a parent to that child. But I wouldn’t have married someone I didn’t love.”

  He took another deep breath. “But if I had loved Amy, and she had a child by another man, then guess what. I would love that child too. Because it would be a part of the woman I loved.”

  “Jake, I can’t,” she managed to say. Suddenly things were closing in, and she was feeling trapped.

  He started to take a step forward, but must have seen the panic on her face because he took a slow and deliberate step back. “Colleen, I know what you mean to me. What you have always meant to me. There is room in my heart for you and your daughter. There. Let it settle in.”

  The bell tinkled again, and she half turned. More customers, she thought, now of all times.

  “I’ll be going now,” he said, moving away.

  She nodded, then took a breath and focused. She had work to do.

  Chapter 51

  Amy wasn’t that hard to find. She looked up from where she was sitting on a bench, watching her daughter play on the swings when Jake sat down. He didn’t want to loom over her, figured this would be easier if they could keep it casual, friendly.

  “You look like a man who could use a little pick me up,” she said. Her hand reached out but he caught it before it could graze his arm.

  “Don’t try it,” Jake said. “You have a husband. And it’s not me. So go home to him.” It was blunt, but maybe he hadn’t been clear about it before this. She needed to know that there was nothing between them, and that, more importantly, she couldn’t come between him and Colleen.

  “I don’t …”

  “Amy, don’t say something you’ll regret. I am not her father. He is. You made your decision. Think about what you’re doing to Chad, to Mackenzie. Chad is a good guy. He’s a great father. Don’t throw that away.”

  “But I don’t love him,” she said, her voice low, plaintive.

  “And I don’t love you. Either way, you’re screwed. Maybe you and Chad won’t work out, but you should give it a try. Get over me.” It was cruel and god knows he didn’t like to be cruel, but he couldn’t let Amy see this as an opening, not when he knew she had a family. Chad was a man who, despite everything, loved her, and she had a little girl who loved her too.

  “You’re a parent. Don’t be selfish,” he continued. If he had learned anything from Colleen, it was that a parent needed to do what was right for their child. Even if doing that meant putting what they wanted aside.

  Colleen saw them, she could hardly help it. She stopped at the entrance to the playground, scanning for Adele, who was with Josh and Lydia when her eyes were drawn to where Amy and Jake sat on the bench, their postures tense, angled toward one another. She drew a deep breath. So what if Jake and Amy talked? He didn’t seem to be enjoying it.

  Suddenly someone tugged at Colleen’s hand. She looked down. Mackenzie Anderson was there, tugging at her. Next to her was a man wearing khaki shorts, crisp polo shirt, and sunglasses. He looked nice, and from the way Mackenzie was holding on to him, she figured this must be her dad, Chad. Colleen had to smother the slightly hysterical laugh that almost bubbled up at the thought of the rhyme.

  “Where’s Adele?” Mackenzie asked her. Colleen looked up and saw that Chad too was watching his wife with a look she couldn’t quite read on his face.

  “In there, with Josh,” she said automatically.

  “Daddy, will you take me in?” Mackenzie asked and looked at her father who broke off from staring at his wife.

  Colleen saw the smile Chad gave his daughter, full of love and adoration. “I would love to go to the park. But only …” he paused, and Mackenzie watched him intently. “If you let me go down the slide too.”

  Colleen fought the lump that had risen in her throat. Chad obviously loved his daughter. What more could a mom ask for? She glanced at Amy, who was watching Jake walk away, a look of hurt and fury on her face.

  “Hey pumpkin,” Chad said, “why don’t we start with the swings? Mom can join us later.”

  Colleen eased herself back from the park entrance, knowing it was cowardly and walked away. She’d text Lydia and ask her to bring Adele back to the house. For now, she just couldn’t face Amy, Jake, or, maybe, even her own daughter.

  Chapter 52

  Jake stalked off from the meeting with Amy at the park. He fumed his way down the streets of Queensbay until he found himself in front of the pub. It was on the early side for a drink, but despite his best efforts, he was free to do as he pleased. No one needed or expected him. No one wanted him, except the wrong person. Colleen didn’t need him, and he realized that he was okay with that. He liked her independence, the fact that she had built her life back up all on her own. It was her stubborn refusal to realize that they were meant for each other that was frustrating him.

  “What are you doing here?” Quent boomed. He was standing in the mostly empty bar, wiping glasses with a towel. Ellie was there as well, a glass of sparkling water in front of her. Midnight Oil played on the radio.

  “Give me a drink,” Jake said as he slid onto a school.

  Quent pushed a beer toward him and slapped down a vinyl-covered menu. “It’s happy hour. Order something,” Quent said, as if reminding him that if he were going to take up a bar stool, he’d better order something more than a beer.

  Jake pushed it away and said, “Burger.” He wasn’t really hungry but he didn’t want Quent to bother him.

  “Coming right up,” Quent said, and he moved down toward the end of the bar.

  Jake watched the bubbles fizz up in his beer. He wasn’t really thirsty either, but what else was a man supposed to do when the going got tough besides have a beer and eat some fries. He loved Colleen. He didn’t understand why she didn’t love him back. She did like him. He could feel it; he knew it from the way she was with him. When they were together like that, things were perfect. It was everything else. He couldn’t buy her a damn cookie without her accusing him of trying to bribe her. It was true that he wanted to help her and Adele. Something about them tugged at him.

  “Girl trouble?” Quent asked laconically as he put the burger down in front of Jake. A bottle of malt vinegar appeared even as Jake reached for the ketchup.

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because you’re drinking alone in the daytime. It’s the sign of a desperate man.”

  “Takes one to know one,” Jake muttered as the ketchup poured out. He pushed the fries around so that the ketchup made a little pool.

  Quent glanced down at Ellie who had stealthily slid up next to Jake.

  “You and Colleen have a dust-up?”

  “Something like that,” Jake said. He still wasn’t sure why she was angry with him. He’d kept something from her; that was true, but it hadn’t seemed relevant at the time. He didn’t pry into her past, did he?

  “What do you know about Adele’s father?” he asked Ellie as she snagged one of Jake’s fries.

  “Not much,” she said. “Sounds like a real piece of work, though. Bu
t she won’t talk about it.”

  “Her own dad was a loser,” Jake said. The whole town had known it, how Sean McShane had breezed into town, gotten nice girl Maura Higgins knocked up, married her at the proverbial end of a shotgun, and had proceeded to booze and womanize his way through town until he’d hit the road as some sort of traveling salesman. The whole town had looked with pity on the sad, sad story of the McShanes as a cautionary tale of a good, hard-working family slipping down the rungs of respectability. It hadn’t helped that Maura hadn’t coped well with her husband’s failings. She’d been a drunk for a while, everyone knew that, just as they all knew she’d kicked the bottle and gotten a job as a nurse.

  Colleen had always been looked down on, even as she had racked up the accomplishments. Sure, Colleen had won spelling bees and art contests, gotten straight A’s, been a cheerleader, but none of that had stopped them from whispering about her. She was the girl from the wrong side of the tracks, and there were plenty of people in Queensbay who hadn’t wanted to let her forget it.

  “I never cared about any of that,” he said almost to himself.

  “Any of what?” Ellie asked, taking a sip of water.

  “Colleen had it rough growing up. Not her fault, her parents’, but somehow the blame always fell close to her.”

  “Happens,” Ellie agreed.

  “But she showed them all. Just kept proving them wrong, but still it was always ‘that Colleen McShane girl.’”

  Jake shook his head. Even he’d been thinking about it at prom night, when he’d found her. Even though he knew her, knew she could draw and that she could name the artist of any picture put in front of her, knew that she read both Jane Austen and Stephen King. He had found all of that out during their sweet, brief time together. And she was just Colleen to him, and he was amazed by her, all of her.

  “She dumped me,” he said, pushing his plate away. He wasn’t hungry. Wasn’t really thirsty either, with the way his stomach was twisted up.

  “What, back when you were kids? I don’t think you should hold that against her. Sounds like she needed to focus on getting the hell out of Dodge,” Ellie said.