Holly Lane (Destiny, Ohio)

Home > Other > Holly Lane (Destiny, Ohio) > Page 16
Holly Lane (Destiny, Ohio) Page 16

by Toni Blake


  The SUV pulled up to where Adam stood working, and as Jeff came into sight through the windshield, he flashed a smile and lifted his hand in a wave. Adam tried to smile in return, but he suspected the effort didn’t quite work.

  Jeff didn’t seem to notice, though—he hopped out, slammed the door, and merrily said, “What’s up, bud?”

  “Not much,” Adam replied, fearing he sounded as sour as he felt. Things had been tense between them ever since he’d told Jeff, months ago, that he thought leaving Sue Ann was a mistake. But maybe for Jeff, the tension had passed. “What’s up with you?”

  “Haven’t gotten around to putting up a tree yet at my new place with Ronni—so I took off work early to come get one. Christmas is right around the corner now, and it being our first one together as husband and wife, I want to make it special.” Or maybe Jeff was still so smitten with the new woman in his life that he just didn’t take in anyone else’s reactions. He’d seemed to be in his own little world ever since parting with Sue Ann in June.

  Despite Jeff’s holly jolly attitude, Adam still couldn’t manage a smile—so he just motioned at the remaining trees in the distance. “That’s what I have left. Getting pretty picked over, though.”

  “Okey doke. And, uh, listen—have you decided if you can help me out at the hearing?”

  Adam’s chest tightened. “Um . . . afraid I’m still on the fence. Just feel sort of caught between you and Sue Ann, you know?” But he didn’t go into further detail than that—he’d known Sue Ann their whole lives, too, so he hoped it made sense to Jeff that it counted for something, even without knowing that their relationship had become romantic—and sexual.

  “I get that,” Jeff said. “But I’m really hoping you can come through. My lawyer says it would help a lot. And like I told you on the phone—it’s the only way Ronni and I can move forward with having a baby, and it’s important to her. Her biological clock is ticking hard.”

  Damn, now Jeff was making him feel like he was preventing a woman from having a child? Sheesh. Despite himself, that tore at him a little. He’d only met Ronni a few times, but enough to know that he actually liked her. Still, he just nodded and said, “I’ll let you know.”

  Jeff smiled in thanks, and that, too, dug at Adam’s emotions a little. Maybe it reminded him of better times in their friendship—easier times. “You know it would mean a lot to me.” After which he pointed toward the remaining evergreens. “Guess I’d better go find a tree. Then I gotta get home and get some lights up outside, too.”

  “I put up Sue Ann’s lights,” Adam heard himself say then, sounding more rigid than he’d meant to.

  At which Jeff stopped, looked back. And maybe he sounded a little less merry and a bit more awkward when he replied, “Uh, yeah, Sophie told me. Been meaning to say thanks.”

  “It was no problem. And she needed the help,” he added. Maybe he shouldn’t have. And maybe he shouldn’t risk making Sue Ann look . . . needy or something, since for the most part, Adam thought she was doing a great job of being on her own. But clearly Jeff had completely forgotten about the woman he’d once loved, about how hard his departure had made her life. He already had a full-time job, financial security. And he already lived with someone else who could help with the daily chores that came with being an adult.

  Now Jeff obviously heard the stiffness in Adam’s voice. Yet he only said, “Well, it was good of you to pitch in,” and let it go.

  And as his old friend walked away toward the trees, Adam was sorry he’d brought Sue Ann up at all. The fact was, people got divorced, and they learned to manage life by themselves—it happened all the time. And it wasn’t his place to pick a fight with Jeff over this.

  But he just thought, as he had from the start, that his old friend was inconsiderate. After all, during the first year after he’d split with Sheila, he’d still made sure she had what she needed. He’d delivered a free Christmas tree from his lot that year, he’d put up her lights as well, and more than once he’d repaired a broken toilet or dishwasher for her. It hadn’t meant they forgave each other—it had just been the decent thing to do for a woman he’d once loved and the mother of his kids.

  Now he watched as, across the way, Jeff was already laughing with Johnny Fulks from the Destiny town council, who’d pulled into the lot behind him, also tree-shopping. Jeff shook Johnny’s hand and then even slapped him on the back. Once more, Sue Ann and his old life had been forgotten, that quickly. Something about it made Adam’s stomach sink like a lump of coal.

  And suddenly he couldn’t blame her for not wanting to jump into a relationship with him. Because how could he expect her to open her heart again so soon? How could he expect her to put that kind of trust in him? Especially after what he’d told her about Sheila. It was like he’d thought once before—she surely figured that birds of a feather flocked together. Even if he wasn’t flocking much with Jeff anymore.

  He spotted Lettie Gale then, trying to drag her own tree to her car—while Tyler Fleet, who’d just shown up for his after-school shift, stood flirting with his girlfriend, Cara, next to her mom’s car. “Tyler!” he barked, then motioned toward Lettie—who’d also flinched at the sharp sound. “I’m paying you to work, not flirt! Help the lady with her tree.”

  And even though all three of them stood gaping at him like he was the Grinch himself, ready to descend on Whoville, he didn’t bother apologizing this time. Despite himself, he was feeling Scroogier by the minute.

  Twelve

  “Leave me! Take me back! Haunt me no longer!”

  Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

  Adam was in the room—and yet he wasn’t. When he walked into the Dew Drop Inn, the bar on the edge of town, not one person inside looked up—and he knew instinctively that they didn’t see him, didn’t realize he was there.

  A few of his friends sat around the bar, while others occupied nearby tables. Sue Ann sat prettily at one of them wearing a winter white skirt and a cozy-looking sweater the color of cranberries, a bottle of beer in her hand. The simple sight made him smile because no one would expect the well-put-together mom to be a beer drinker, but he’d knocked back more than a few with her over the years and had always liked that about her.

  Jenny and her husband, Mick, shared the same table, while Chuck Whaley and Amy Bright occupied the next. His buddies, Mike and Logan, were at the bar with another guy who worked with Mike on the Destiny police force, Raybourne Fleet. Red foil tinsel and tiny colored lights were strung above the bar, and a small artificial tree with too many ornaments weighing down its branches stood by the jukebox.

  Despite himself, he suffered an instant surge of loneliness to be in their presence, yet to still be, effectively, alone. Instinctively, he lifted his hand in a wave and said, “Hey guys,” but yep, just as he expected, no one heard him.

  Except . . . to his surprise, Sue Ann glanced toward where he stood, then blinked uncertainly.

  “What’s wrong?” Jenny asked her over a glass of wine.

  Sue Ann shook her head. “Nothing. Just . . . weird—I thought I heard Adam’s voice.” The two exchanged looks, and Adam could tell that Jenny knew they’d slept together.

  Raybourne Fleet swung his head around. “Adam Becker? That’s the last guy I want to run into tonight. He’s been giving my kid a hard time at work.” Besides being a by-the-book cop, just like Mike, Raybourne was also Tyler Fleet’s father.

  “Yeah, I don’t know what’s got into him,” Chuck volunteered with a disgusted sigh, “but he yells at me every time I move lately. Keeps sayin’ he’s sorry, but he don’t mean it. If he meant it, he’d knock it the hell off.”

  “It’s because the boys are gone for the holidays,” Sue Ann offered, “and he just misses them. I know he doesn’t mean to be so harsh.”

  Adam’s heart started to warm, pleased she’d taken up for him—when Mick Brody said, “Did he really tell Sophie that Santa would bring her a reindeer?”

  Now Sue Ann let out a troubled sigh, b
ut at least she didn’t sound as put out with him as everyone else. “Well, he said Santa would try, and under the circumstances, I understand why.”

  “Still,” Mick said, “that’s gonna be tough come Christmas morning, isn’t it?” and Sue Ann replied with a small, conciliatory nod that made Adam feel like sludge anyway.

  “You know, I don’t like to talk bad about my friends,” Logan piped up, “but he was pretty damn hard to work with at the Christmas tree lighting, that’s for sure.”

  “You can say that again,” Chuck muttered.

  “He keeps this up,” Mike said from next to Logan at the bar, “and he won’t have any friends left.”

  Logan just drew back and gave Mike a look—which Adam appreciated. Although he was a good guy at heart, Mike was known far and wide for being brusque and hard to get along with, even with his friends and loved ones. Yet Mike simply replied to Logan’s glance by saying, “With me, people are used to it. But with Becker—hell, on him it’s just not right. Even I don’t like hanging with him lately.”

  “Yeah, if things don’t get better,” Chuck added, “I might have to start looking for another job. I’ve always liked working for Adam, but when your boss turns into a jerk, going to work sucks.”

  And when even sweet Amy spoke out against him . . . God, it felt like he was doomed. “I didn’t want to say anything because Adam is usually so nice, but . . . he practically growled at me when he delivered my trees. He was fine with the one for the bookstore, but he seemed pretty snarly about carrying the other one up to my apartment. Like, after all these years, he doesn’t know I live above the store?”

  “Stop,” Adam said then. “I’ll try to be nicer.” But of course, no one heard him. In fact, they started going around the room, sharing more tales of how horrible he’d been the last few weeks. And even Sue Ann didn’t hear him this time.

  “I heard him get snippy with Mabel at the diner,” someone said.

  “And sure, he filled in as Santa, but Caroline Meeks said he was grumbly about it.”

  “Aw, come on, guys—give me a break,” he said, trying again—but his words got no response, and damn, if he’d felt lonely when he walked in here, it was nothing compared to now.

  The shrill ringing of the phone seemed to slice into Adam’s brain, jostling him roughly from sleep.

  And—oh. Damn. It was a dream.

  Of course it was a dream, you numbskull—you were invisible.

  Okay, where was the phone? He thrust a hand out from under the covers toward the bedside table but didn’t find it—and the sharp trill was about to shatter his eardrums. What time was it anyway? And who was calling him this early?

  He reached farther and at last found the cordless receiver, but he knocked it off its stand. Eventually, it was in his grip and he finally pushed the answer button to snap, “What?”

  “Dad?” Aw hell. It was Joey. And he clearly wondered why he was being yelled at for calling home.

  “Hey Joe, I’m sorry,” Adam said quickly, softening his voice. “Just couldn’t find the phone. How ya doin’? What’s up?”

  “I got some sniffles, so I couldn’t sleep. Grandma said it was probably late enough there that I could call.”

  “Of course it is. And hey, you can always call me—you know that. Any time, day or night.” Adam glanced to the clock to see it was 8:00 A.M., which made it six in Colorado. And he should damn well be up by now anyway—what was it with him and all the oversleeping these days?

  “Even if it’s not important, though?” his son asked, still sounding doubtful.

  “Absolutely. Even if it’s not important. Just hearing your voice is important enough for me.”

  “You know what’s cool?” Joey asked, punctuating the question with a big sniff.

  “What’s that?”

  All this snow. Skiing. The mountains. Those were the things that had usually been cool lately, so Adam was waiting to hear more of the same when Joey said, “That even on the phone, you know me and Jacob apart without even trying.”

  Huh. He never knew the boys even noticed that. Because he was their dad, after all. Even if they were mostly identical, right down to their voices, and even if no one else could tell them apart—yeah, of course he knew without trying, without even thinking. “Well, you’re my kid, buddy. Now tell me about these sniffles keeping you up.”

  As Joey filled him in, Adam listened intently and felt that parental ping of concern because he was so far away and couldn’t take care of his boy while he was sick. And he kept remembering the hurt tone in Joey’s voice when he’d barked into the phone instead of answering it like a normal person.

  Shit, this had to stop. If that bizarre dream hadn’t sent a strong enough message, yelling at his innocent kid over the phone sure as hell had. This Scroogy attitude was taking its toll, not only on the people in his life, but on him, too.

  He didn’t like himself this way. So how could he expect anyone else to like him?

  The problem was, he just didn’t know how to change it. After all, his bad attitude had started when the boys left, and since then, other parts of his life had only gotten more complicated, and more out of his control. The best friendship he’d ever known was fading, and though he didn’t let himself think about it a lot, when he did, it stung. And he wanted a woman who wanted him back but wouldn’t let herself have him. And then there was Jeff’s request that he testify on his behalf, which mucked it all up even worse.

  Just then, though, as Adam lay in bed staring out the window at a snow-covered hillside in the distance, it occurred to him that Jeff’s request was the one and only thing in the mix here that he did actually have some control over. He’d been trying like hell to avoid thinking about that, too, but maybe making a decision, one way or the other, would help improve his whole general demeanor.

  And the more time that passed, the more he knew in his heart what the right answer was.

  Once he gave it . . . well, it would probably damage one of his relationships further. But at the same time, maybe it would help repair another.

  On Friday, Sue Ann left Destiny Properties to walk around the corner and across the town square to Dolly’s Main Street Café. She was having lunch with Tessa, who always cheered her up. Tessa herself had been through a lot in recent years, yet she went through life with a positive attitude Sue Ann admired.

  And as they chatted over the next hour, Tessa’s upbeat mood once again lifted Sue Ann’s spirits. Mainly because Tessa had an answer for everything.

  “What am I gonna do about money, and a job?” Sue Ann had complained over a plate of chicken and dumplings. She’d made no secret among her girlfriends that her need for a full-time income had become more immediate, and why.

  “Okay, first,” Tessa replied, “I think you should set a deadline. Like Christmas. If nothing comes through by then, I’ll call my buddy, Greg, over in Crestview.” Tessa had recently done some interior design work for Greg, who owned a steakhouse, and they’d already discussed that fact that Tessa felt sure he could use another waitress. “And I know that’s not what you’re really looking for, but you’d just have to think of it as temporary.”

  “But what if I get so bogged down that I never get my real estate license, I never take the those steps that will help me move ahead?”

  Tessa just shook her head. “It’ll be hard, but you’ll just have to make the time. You’ll have to see this as a period in your life where you just keep your head down and power through it—until it’s better. What does Dory say, after all?”

  Dory from Finding Nemo, she meant. All of Tessa’s friends knew her favorite piece of advice came from an animated fish, yet no one could fault the suggestion. “Just keep swimming,” Sue Ann answered dutifully.

  “Right. Just keep afloat, keep pushing forward. That’s really all you can ask of yourself right now.”

  Sue Ann tilted her head to one side, trying to see it from that perspective, and something about the idea calmed her. “You’re right,” sh
e finally said. And as usual, by the time she parted ways with Tessa, bundling up for the short walk back to the office, she truly felt better. You’re strong, you’re capable, and everything will be okay.

  If she had to wait tables, she’d wait tables. If she had to lose some sleep to study, she’d lose sleep. It would all be about building a good life for her and Sophie. And though she’d never imagined she would become a single mom who had to worry about these things—well, this was where destiny had delivered her, and Tessa was correct: She had to power through it and know she’d come out better on the other side. Life was full of unexpected twists and turns, and all she could do was keep her eyes on the road and navigate it as well as possible.

  Of course, she still didn’t know what she was going to do when Sophie didn’t get a reindeer on Christmas morning, but . . . one day at a time. One problem at a time.

  She’d just hung up her coat, changed from her snow boots back into her pumps, and taken a seat at her desk—when the owner of Destiny Properties, Dan Lindley, peeked out from his office and said, “Sue Ann, can I see you for a minute?”

  Hmm—Dan was calling her into his office? Sue Ann didn’t hesitate to scoop up a notepad and pen to head that way, but she felt a little uneasy. She usually took direction from the office manager, Shirley Busby, and had little actual work contact with Dan—her conversations with Dan were usually small talk, and truthfully, the well-dressed, well-spoken middle-aged Destiny transplant intimidated her a little.

  “Sit down,” he said, motioning to the chair across from his desk when she walked in. A handsome man in his forties, Dan’s gray suit accentuated his salt-and-pepper hair. And as Sue Ann did as he instructed, she found herself taking a seat only on the edge, not leaning back—something about his clipped, all-business tone added to her growing sense of nervousness.

 

‹ Prev