by Susan Hatler
He shrank back in his chair, feeling like that twelve-year-old boy who got caught with his mom’s Victoria Secret catalog. “No.”
“Well, maybe you should.” His mother remained straight, with her don’t-cross-me-son pinched brow.
“Fine, let’s say you didn’t tell her—”
“I didn’t.”
Eric sighed. “Then let’s focus on the fact that you brought Ms. Mortan here intentionally, so that I’d be interested in dating her.”
“Boy, aren’t you egocentric? How about we focus on the fact that I wanted something to occupy my time since your father passed? Perhaps giving up working all those years to make sure my son was healthy and happy and waiting until he was grown and gone before I pursued my dream is something I should apologize for. Do I think you two could be great together? Yes, I do, but you’re too stubborn to see it, so if you miss out on a good thing, then that’s on you, not me.”
“Then you do admit to wanting to set us up,” Eric retorted.
“Yes, but I didn’t think I needed to hit you over the head with one of those heavy law books on your shelf to get you to notice her, though.”
“I noticed her all right,” he grumbled.
“Then what’s the problem?” his mother asked.
He clutched the armrests. “You know what the problem is.”
“No. I don’t. You lost someone who you cared about deeply and now you’re wasting your life living in the past,” she scolded.
“That’s what I deserve.” Eric shot up from the chair and paced the room. “It’s my fault Mary Lynn and my own baby are dead.” Remorse clutched his heart and squeezed it until he thought it would explode inside his chest.
“No, it’s not your fault,” his mother whispered from behind him.
“Isn’t it? She came to me in New York, to tell me we were having a baby and what did I do? I sent her away. She died because I was too busy to spend any time with her.”
“That’s not what happened.” His mother’s steps sounded behind him, and her warm hand pressed to his back. “Son, you’ve tortured yourself for far too long, to the point you believe your own guilt. She tried to trap you into marrying her because she knew she was losing you. You fell in love as children, but then you grew up. Heck, you even wanted to break it off with her in high school, but each time you tried, her father would beat her, or she’d end up in some sort of crazy mess. Don’t get me wrong, Mary Lynn was a lovely girl and she wanted the best for you, as long as it included her. You didn’t send her away. She went off in hysterics, before she even told you about the baby, and there was nothing you could do to stop her.”
His hands shook at the memory of their last fight. He’d told her it wasn’t going to work out. That he loved her, but they were too different. “If I would have known about the baby…”
“I have no doubt you would have married her and been the best father and husband you could have been.”
“I don’t know.” Eric fought the lump in his throat. He’d only cried twice since the accident, when she died in his arms and when the doctor told him his child was dead.”
He heard a drawer slide open then a jingle sounded behind him. “I do. You were born to be a father. I know you’ll be an excellent one, but by holding onto something tragic, punishing yourself with undeserved guilt, you’re not giving love another chance.”
“I don’t know if I can,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion.
“I do.” She handed the rattle to him and he clutched it in his palm. “It’s time to let go of the guilt and embrace what’s in front of you before it’s gone. I know you like her.”
“I just met her,” Eric protested.
“Yes, but you look at her in a way you never did with Mary Lynn. Trust me. You need to let go before it’s too late and you lose out on something amazing.” She squeezed his hand briefly then turned and left the office without another word.
He stumbled back to his chair and held tight to the small silver object that meant so much. “I don’t know if I can,” he whispered.
Chapter Eight
The country music blared from inside the large barn-like structure ahead. Judy patted Lisa’s back. “Don’t worry, dear. I don’t think Eric will be anything but kind.”
“It’s not that.” Lisa shook her head and took a deep breath.
“What is it then? You look like you’ve been in another world since we left the shop.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. I’ve just been thinking about where my life has been and where it’s going, that’s all.”
“As long as that’s all.” Judy laughed. “It’s a party, darling. Your troubles will still be there when it’s over. Come on, let’s boogie.”
Lisa chuckled. “Boogie?”
“Crumping?” Judy offered instead with a smile.
Lisa laughed so hard she could barely climb the three steps to the open doors.
Eric snuck up, slid between them, and wrapped his arms around their shoulders. “What’s so funny?”
“Your mom wants to crump.”
“Great, I’m having flashbacks of my sixth grade dance with Janie Walker.” Eric shook his head.
“What?” Judy asked indignantly. “I was the star of that show.” She flung her hair back and lifted her chin like a diva, sending both Eric and Lisa into hysterics.
Entering the oversized building, Lisa realized it wasn’t a barn at all, but a huge community center dressed up like a barn.
The music stopped and Cathy Mitchell took the stage. “Welcome, everyone. As you know, this event is to raise money for those less fortunate kids, so dig deep into your pockets and leave with some great stuff. We’ve got gift certificates for the diner, barber shop, and the new J and L Antique Store opening tomorrow.” Cathy winked at Judy before continuing her spiel. “There are gift baskets and…”
Lisa scanned the room, noticing all the townspeople dressed in overalls and big frilly skirts. She leaned into Eric and whispered, “Where are the kids?”
“What do you mean?” Eric asked.
“Shouldn’t the kids be here if this party is for them?”
Eric slipped his hand from her shoulder to her lower back. Releasing Judy, he turned and tilted his head to the side. “You know, I’ve asked that same question.”
“Then what’s the answer?”
Eric leaned over, cupping the back of her head so he could whisper in her ear. Her neck tingled at his touch. “That I was crazy for suggesting such a thing.” His warm breath kissed her ear, and everything else around her faded from her attention.
When he released her and stepped back, she regrouped quickly. “It doesn’t seem right. Next time, we should bus the kids in ourselves.” She could just imagine how much fun kids would have in the large open space, with hay bales to climb on and hide behind.
Eric smiled one of those winning, brighten-your-day kind of smiles.
“…so place your bids and enjoy the party,” Cathy finally concluded her speech and the music vibrated the wooden floor beneath Lisa’s feet once more. Cathy left the stage and whirled around the room, ordering people to complete various tasks.
Lisa stood on her tiptoes. “I…I’m sorry for whatever I said that upset you,” she offered her apology, battling the music to be heard.
“No, it wasn’t you. I thought Mom had meddled where she didn’t belong, but I guess it was just a coincidence.”
Judy maneuvered close to them and shouted, “Eric.” She squeezed his hand and Lisa was sure their eyes had a chat without a word leaving their lips. Judy smiled, he nodded. “You mind hanging with Lisa for a bit and introducing her around? I need to speak to Cathy about something.”
“Sure, my pleasure.” Eric slid his hand into Lisa’s and guided her to the refreshment table. “You should try the punch. It’s one of those infamous Sweetwater recipes.”
Lisa took the plastic cup he offered and sipped the pale red liquid. A strong, bitter tasting beverage slid down her throat. Coughing, she set the cu
p back on the table. “What’s in that? I haven’t tasted anything like that since college.”
Eric chuckled. “Sweetwater Punch. You do know where the name Sweetwater came from, right?”
Lisa still struggled against the sting in her throat as she said, “It’s named after the creek.”
“Yes, but do you know why it’s called Sweetwater Creek?” Eric’s dimples made an appearance, soothing her scorched throat. “Back in the day, Sweetwater was code for Whiskey. This county was the hub for supplying New York City with libations during the prohibition era. Cathy Mitchell’s grandfather, Jonathan Sweetwater ran the business.”
“Really?” Lisa scanned all the church-going, barn-dancing folks in the room. “I mean, I didn’t picture people in this town even drinking. It’s part of the Bible belt, right?”
“We all attend church on Sunday, but any other night of the week it’s okay to indulge. Of course, most of the townspeople only drink for medicinal purposes.” Eric half bowed, his eyes dancing around the room at various people.
Was it true? Did these people drink? She’d made the trek here to find a family to adopt her child that was devoid of the demons she grew up with. Scanning the crowd, she eyed a few various couples, but did they drink to excess then repent about it on Sunday?
“And if you want to know who partakes and who abstains, just ask Cathy Mitchell. She doesn’t like to gossip, but she’ll still tell you.” He winked down at her.
“So I’ve heard,” Lisa teased, poking him in his side.
“That’s right; you’re a sophisticated New York City girl. Nothing gets past you.” Eric took a swig of punch.
“From what I understand, you were a city boy for a while yourself.”
“Yes, that’s true.” Eric’s playful grin disappeared and his eyes cast over with a haunting gaze before he shook his head and placed his cup back down on the table.
A brunette woman approached and patted Eric on the shoulder. “Good to see you here.”
Eric scratched his temple. “Yes, well, you know how persuasive my mother can be. Oh, Connie, this is Lisa Mortan.” He scooted Lisa into his side as if introducing his girlfriend. Connie’s eyes drifted to his hand on Lisa’s waist, causing Lisa’s face to flame.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Connie said. “I’m Mr. Gaylord’s receptionist.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too.” Lisa tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and fought an internal war between leaning further into Eric or pulling away.
The music changed from a hectic, foot-stomping beat to a mellow couple’s song. Eric took Lisa’s hand once more. “You want to dance?”
Perhaps Judy was right. It was a party and her troubles would be waiting at the door. “Sure.”
“See you at the office,” Eric called to Connie before he spun Lisa around then brought her close to him, slipping one hand into her right, and the other around to the small of her back.
The room spun with music, his cologne, and the sway of his hips. And boy, his hips moved with rhythm like no man she’d ever known. The lights dimmed and couples danced on all sides of them. He moved out and back in, spun her around then guided her back to him.
“Wow, you can dance.” Lisa eased into his embrace.
“Someone told me in college that a corporate man should know how to dance, so I took some classes. It’s come in handy a few times.”
“So, you’ve used this ploy on other girls,” she teased.
He dipped her. “Nope, you’re the first.”
“I should feel special then.”
“Absolutely.” Lifting her up, he rested his chin on the top of her head and moved side to side.
She wished the music would never end. For the first time in weeks, perhaps months, her heart didn’t feel like it was going to drop down to her stomach from the weight of sadness. But feeling good wasn’t part of the plan. She was here to find a family for her baby, not fall for some guy she could never have.
Eric moved his head close to her ear. “I’m glad Mom talked me into coming. I was hesitant, but I have to admit this is good.”
She couldn’t tell if his voice was hoarse from emotion or talking over the music, but she didn’t want to shrug from his arms to look.
“Tell me, or was it too painful?” Eric asked.
Lisa followed his sway. “What?”
“What happened to you back in New York?” Eric leaned his head back and caught her gaze.
“It wasn’t like that. I’m not some damsel in distress. I wouldn’t stick around if I was being abused. It was one night, our last night together that he grabbed my arm. And I walked.”
A smile creased his lips. “It’s nice to meet a girl that can stand on her own two feet, who’ll stick up for herself.”
Lisa shrugged, not sure what to say. “I’d never stick around if something like that was going on. I learned a long time ago life is too short and complicated for that kind of mess. I’d prefer to work things out on my own than cling to something unhealthy.” The words flowed from her mouth as quickly as he asked the questions. Too much. She needed to shut her mouth. She wasn’t ready to tell anyone, not until she made up her mind about the baby.
The music ended and she retreated from his embrace. “I, uh, I need to get home. Still have to finish unpacking. Thanks for entertaining the new girl for a bit, but I’m sure there are a ton of women waiting for a dance with you.” She glanced around to emphasize her point. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the opening.”
Lisa nearly tripped over her own feet leaving the dance floor, music, Sweetwater punch, and Eric behind.
“Wait. I’ll walk you to your car,” Eric said, catching up to her before she’d made it to the door.
“Don’t worry about it. Tough girl from New York, remember? You stay with Judy. I can’t let anything happen to my new partner. But I’ll see you soon.” She snatched her coat from the deer horn coat tree and stepped outside. Her troubles were there, waiting for her, and in the cold night air, all the fear and anxiety returned.
She managed to get one arm into her coat before she reached the walkway, and the other before the warm tears dripped down her cold cheeks. This wasn’t the plan. She needed to find a family, have the baby then get back to her life in New York with no one ever finding out she was pregnant in the first place.
It’s best this way. She rubbed her belly, wishing she could hold the child in her arms, to comfort it from all this, but like Mark said, she didn’t have a single motherly instinct. The child needed a family, and she was unfit to be a mother.
Chapter Nine
Eric watched Lisa hot-foot it to her car. Her hips swayed and her heels clicked in the night. He wanted to run after her and tell her he was ready to give dating a chance, but he stayed rooted in the doorway. When they danced, her warmth invited him closer. He wanted to pull her curvaceous, firm body into his arms and tell her he didn’t want to live in the past anymore, but was he truly ready? Perhaps her leaving was for the best.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. Retrieving it, he noticed five new messages. Scrolling through the numbers, he realized they were all work related. Of course, besides his mother, that was all the calls he received. It was all he’d wanted. Until tonight.
For once he wasn’t distracted by his phone, email, or networking opportunities. Instead, he longed to return to the dance floor with Lisa, but without the loud music or people. Only the two of them, swaying against each other while he listened to her sweet voice tell him of her life. He wanted to know everything. Her favorite food, favorite movie, even her favorite flower.
He pulled his car keys from his pocket, but then shoved them back in. It was too soon. They’d just met, and the way she stiffened in his arms to his inquiry about what happened in New York caused a thrum of warning in his mind. There was more to the story.
“Going somewhere?” His mother’s voice traveled from over his shoulder to his cold ear.
“Yes. As requested, I made an appearance. I ga
ve it my all, but it’s tough to be here.”
“Didn’t look so tough from where I was standing.” She grasped his arm, tugging him to face her. “From what I saw, two people were quite infatuated with each other. Your facial expressions and body language screamed that fact to everyone in that room. Heck, I felt the fire ignite between you two from across the dance floor. The kind that people search their entire lives to experience, if only for a moment.
“You sound like one of those chick flicks you enjoy making me watch.”
“Ha, you love them as much as I do and you know it. You’re nothing but a big romantic at heart. Problem is that guilt was a tent over your heart for so long, you don’t know how to feel anymore.”
Eric ran a hand through his hair, tugging the roots to alleviate some of the tension. “I don’t know. My chest is tight. I haven’t felt like this in a long time, if ever. It…scares me.”
“My son. Captain of the football team, valedictorian, and fighter of rights is afraid to hold a girl’s hand.” His mother gave him a sappy smile.
“Don’t tease me.”
“I don’t mean to. I only wanted to convey that you are one of the bravest men around here. Yet, anytime a girl so much as smiles at you, I think you’d run across the ocean to avoid seeing her again. With Lisa, it’s different. I see your struggle. You want to stay. Don’t let fear keep you from something great.” His mother squeezed his upper arms. “I’m telling you, the chemistry between you two is undeniable.”
“What makes you so sure we belong together? There were thousands of women in New York City and none of them captured my attention. Why now? Why her?”
His mother chuckled. “First off, you’re loyal. You might not have loved Mary Lynn anymore, but you’d never cheat on her. Second, why not her? What don’t you like about her?”
Eric paused and thought for a moment. “I don’t know her well enough yet to answer that.”
“Then tell me what you do like about her.”
Eric sighed. “This is ridiculous.”
