California Dreaming: Four Contemporary Romances

by Casey Dawes

  “You’re not throwing me out. I drove all this way. I’ve got nowhere else to stay. You’ve got plenty of room.”

  “I’m sure my mother will put you up. She’s got an empty room.” Sarah called over her shoulder as she walked with Hunter to the front door. It would serve Elizabeth right. Just because Elizabeth’s parents forced her to marry, didn’t mean Sarah was doing any such thing.

  The gravel crunched as Rick gave up and turned to go. The car door slammed and the engine sputtered. Stones sprayed as he tore down the driveway.

  She got her key from her purse and put it in the lock.

  “So you’re pregnant.” Hunter’s voice was emotionless.

  She leaned her forehead against the door and fought back her tears. “Yeah.”

  “The song and dance about not drinking wine at dinner was a cover-up. And I bet it isn’t a pulled muscle.”

  She knew it was the death-knell of whatever chance she had with Hunter. “No.”

  “I see.”

  No, you don’t see at all.

  “You going to be okay? He won’t come back, will he?”

  She shook her head. “Rick’s not dangerous. He’s just mad.” She took a deep breath and turned. “Thank you for a lovely evening, Hunter. I enjoyed it.”

  They stared at each other for several long moments. Her heart ached with all that was unsaid.

  “You’re welcome.” He turned and went back to the Jeep.

  She opened her door and shut it behind her. Daisy was waiting.

  Sarah slumped to the floor, wrapped her arms around her dog and burst into tears.

  Chapter 9

  By ten the next morning Sarah had forced down toast and half a cup of decaf tea. She was dressed in bulky knits, her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and her face scrubbed. She’d skipped makeup and jewelry.

  Rick arrived promptly.

  “Come in,” she said, maneuvering away from him to avoid any awkward attempts at intimacy.

  Daisy sniffed Rick, turned away, and moved close to Sarah as she walked into the kitchen.

  “Coffee?” Sarah asked. “I only have decaf.”

  “Decaf?” Rick asked.

  Sarah gestured to her stomach.

  “Oh, yeah. Sure, decaf will be fine.” He pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down. “Where’d you get the dog?”

  Sarah poured the coffee for him and a glass of water for herself. She didn’t need any more acid in her stomach. “She showed up one day and stayed.”

  Rick looked at her steadily.

  She tried to remember how she’d felt about him.

  He’s a stranger.

  He lowered his eyelids and picked up his coffee. “I’m sorry, Sarah,” he said. “I really am. I overreacted. I guess I couldn’t understand how our lives could change so suddenly when we had them all planned out.”

  “Didn’t someone say ‘Life is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans’?”

  “I dunno. You were the scholar, not me.” He reached out a hand.

  She pulled hers back.

  He sighed. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

  She chewed her lower lip. There wasn’t anything to say.

  “We had something good, Sarah. We can get it back.” He gestured at her stomach. “Our love will just make it better. Besides, a child should have two parents. All the statistics prove that children raised in an intact family are better off than if they’re raised by a single parent.”

  A stab of guilt hit her gut. Am I being selfish? Maybe I should try harder. The baby deserves the best chance.

  She forced herself to smile a little at Rick. “What are you suggesting? I can’t go back to Davis. My life is here. I’m opening an inn.”

  Just like we planned.

  He drummed his fingers on the table. “I’ve got a year and a half at Davis before I get my degree. That degree is important to me. I’ll be working at restaurants during the summer. The contacts I make will be fantastic.”

  She could see him gathering steam, like she was watching a scene in a movie, a portrait of someone she didn’t know telling her about himself.

  I’m being too harsh.

  “Then how do we make it work? If you’re gone all the time, I’ll still need a chef for the inn. We both know I can’t cook.”

  He grinned and she saw a flash of the boy she’d loved.

  “That’s the truth,” he said and studied his coffee. “The decaf is really awful, isn’t it?” He smiled and said, “I figure while I’m in school I can come down here every other weekend, stay with you here — we can pick up where we were before … before … ” He gestured at her.

  “Say it,” she said.

  “What?” He looked truly puzzled.

  She leaned toward him. “The baby. Make it real. My pregnancy. Our baby. He or she.”

  “Of course.” He took another sip of coffee. “It’s no big deal. I mean. It was. But now I’ve accepted it.”

  She didn’t say anything, but her tears gathered. She forced them down, pursing her lips together.

  Why am I thinking this is even possible?

  “So you’d come down four days a month and you think we can build a relationship with that?”

  “It’s what we did when you were still at Berkeley. If it worked then, why won’t it work now?”

  “Because I’m pregnant.”

  His forehead creased. “What’s that got to do with it?”

  She shook her head. How could two people change so much in two months? She stood up. Daisy, who’d been lying in her dog bed, immediately followed suit and stood next to her. “I don’t think we can repair the damage in a few weekends a month. What you said to me was horrible. Wanting me to get rid of our child was the worst thing you could have done.” Her control on her tears slipped.

  He stood. “I’m sorry. I told you that. I wasn’t ready for — ”

  “Say it!” she yelled, her voice breaking.

  “Okay!” he shouted. “Baby! I wasn’t ready for a baby! Are you satisfied?” He turned away, crossed to the other side of the room, and leaned against the wall.

  Sarah clutched the counter behind her. She couldn’t believe they were fighting again.

  He walked back to her and gently took her arms. “I’m not good at this,” he said, his voice softer. “Give me a chance. Please don’t be so hard. I want to get to know our baby. Help you take care of him or her.” He dropped her arms. “Imagine us all living here. It’s not what I would have chosen, but it will do. We’d be together every day. We’d make a success.” He smiled. “The two of you would definitely eat better.”

  He was right. She owed it to the baby. “I’ll try,” she said. “But you can’t stay here.”

  He frowned. “Where do you suggest I stay?”

  “With my mother. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

  “One more question.”

  If she could have stepped back, she would have. “What?”

  “Who was the soldier? At least I assume he’s a soldier.”

  “He’s … he’s just a guy I met. He wanted to take me to dinner. Like you, he’s concerned I’m not eating enough. We’re just friends.”

  Forgive me, Hunter.

  Rick stared into her eyes, as if trying to determine the truth. “If we’re going to make an attempt, no more dates, okay?”

  “It wasn’t a date,” she lied.

  “No more dinners with male friends.”

  “Okay. You’ll stay with my mother?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then it’s a deal.”

  He kissed her.

  A stranger’s kiss.

  • • •

  “Gosh, it
’s ugly out there,” Mandy said when she arrived that afternoon. “All the winter weather must have been saving up for the month. Driving is nasty.” She thrust a plastic container at Sarah. “Here. I made these last night. I figured it was time to let you start sampling.”

  “Thank you!”

  Mandy studied the entryway. “You need some hooks. Or better yet, one of those old Victorian hall stands that holds coats, umbrellas, you know.”

  Sarah’s excitement grew. “Yes! I know exactly what you mean! That would be perfect!”

  Daisy barked her agreement and Sarah laughed. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she told Mandy. “I needed you.”

  Mandy grinned. “Tea on?”

  Heart lighter than it had been moments before, Sarah led the way to the kitchen.

  After the tea was made and blueberry muffins from the container set out on the table, Mandy asked, “So how’d your date go?”

  “It wasn’t a date.”

  “Right. Did you tell him you’re prego?”

  Sarah frowned. “He found out.”

  “Oooh. That doesn’t sound promising. So you didn’t tell him, but he found out. How’d that happen?”

  “Rick.”

  “The ex?”

  Sarah nodded and told Mandy the events of the night before and her visit with Rick that morning.

  “Wow. I can’t believe your mother set you up.”

  “Sometimes her upbringing gets in her way. You know. People stay married forever until ‘death do you part.’ Remember she had to get married when she became pregnant with me. It amazes me that she’s ‘living in sin’ with Marcos.”

  “Yeah,” Mandy broke a piece from her muffin and tossed it in her mouth. “So you’re going to try to make it work with Rick? Sure that’s a good idea?”

  “I’m not sure of anything. But it seems like the right thing to do. To try at least.”

  “I suppose.”

  Sarah’s head hurt from thinking about Rick. “Talking about the hooks in hallway reminded me I need to get some furniture for this place or I’ll never be able to open. I can’t afford retail — and I don’t really want new stuff. You said we could get restaurant stuff at auctions. I wonder if we can get furniture there, too.”

  “Estate sales would be good for that. We can surf the Internet. You got Wi-Fi?” Mandy pulled a computer tablet from her voluminous purse.

  “Yep, got all of that when I had the lights and heat turned on.”

  Mandy snapped a keyboard on the tablet, brought up the internet and began typing. “Look, here are some estate sales coming up in the bay area over the next month.” She scrolled through the page. “There’s one with Victorian furniture in two weeks. I can get off and go with you. Paul can come with his truck.”

  Mandy’s face became a little pinker at the mention of Paul’s name.

  Furniture would be a big hit to her bank account, but if she didn’t take the plunge she’d never be ready before the baby came. “Okay.”

  “Great!” Mandy’s voice become more excited. “Then there’s a restaurant sale in Livermore in a month! Good stuff, but older, probably in your price range — what do you think?” She turned to face Sarah.

  Sarah swallowed. “Sounds like a plan.” She broke off another piece of muffin and put it in her mouth. The texture had just the right crumble and the sweetness of the blueberry wasn’t overpowering. “These are really good,” she said.

  Mandy flashed a smile. “Thanks! They can be the first part of one of your trademark breakfasts!”

  Sarah laughed, but in the back of her mind she wondered what she was going to do about Rick. She was pretty sure Hunter would never come back again. The thought made her sad.

  “What’s up?” Mandy asked.

  Sarah shook her head. “My life is too complicated.”

  “You’re saying this before you have a baby.”

  “Yeah.” Sarah smiled. “It’s going to be a zoo around here after that happens.”

  “You’ll handle it and you’ll have plenty of help. Elizabeth and Annie will be over here daily, cooing over the baby.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Mandy tapped her fingers on the table. “I think what you’re really afraid of is Rick upsetting this controlled little life you had planned.”

  Bingo.

  “You’ve got a point.” Time to move on from the morning’s conversation. “Let’s make a list of the furniture I need to get.”

  “Sounds good.” Mandy poised her fingers over the keys of the tiny computer.

  Sarah began to list everything she thought she needed.

  After Mandy left an hour later, Sarah lay down on the bed she’d brought from her mother’s. It was mid-afternoon before she woke.

  The day’s weather hadn’t changed, but she put on her raincoat and went to a warehouse store to get odds and ends for the bathroom. It was after five before she was done so she stopped for takeout on the way home. By six her evening meal, a pre-made chicken pot pie, steamed on the kitchen table. Sarah was sure it was loaded with calories, but now that her stomach had settled down she was hungry all the time.

  She sat down to dig in.

  Her cell phone rang and she glanced at the read-out.

  Her mother.

  The pot pie called to her.

  Sarah decided her mother could wait and dug into the creamy vegetable and chicken mixture.

  Fifteen minutes later, the doorbell pealed.

  Her mother started talking as soon as Sarah opened the door. “I can’t believe you didn’t pick up the phone, Sarah! Down Daisy,” she said to the dog who was greeting her enthusiastically.

  Daisy sat.

  “Nice to see you, too, Mom.” Sarah shut the door and held out her hand for her mother’s coat.

  “You can’t be that mad at me, can you?” Elizabeth said as she walked to the kitchen. “I only told Rick because I thought he should know what you were doing. He is the baby’s father.”

  “He’s also the one who wanted me to get rid of it, remember?” Sarah automatically put the teakettle on.

  “He assured me it was just a reaction — he didn’t really mean it.”

  “You can believe that. I’m withholding judgment.”

  “But he told me you agreed to see him as long as he stayed somewhere else.” Elizabeth sat. “In fact, he said you told him to stay with me.”

  “It seemed fitting.” The low simmering anger threatened to boil over with the teakettle water.

  “Ouch. I suppose I deserved that for sticking my nose in where it didn’t belong.”

  Sarah thought of Hunter calling her Miss Nosey the night before. At least she knew where she got it. “Something like that.”

  “Okay.” Her mother’s deep breath amused Sarah. “I’m sorry.”

  Sarah pulled mugs and teabags from the cupboard, but didn’t say anything.

  “Am I forgiven?” her mother whispered.

  Sarah grabbed the kettle before it screeched, made the tea and set it on the table.

  After she sat, she looked at her mother. “I’ll forgive you on one condition.”

  “In addition to having Rick stay with me?”

  “Yes. In addition.”

  “Okay. What?”

  The spoon clanked against the ceramic cup as Sarah stirred her tea. “You stay out of it from now on. I’ve agreed to see Rick, but I’m not sure it’s going to work.” She raised her hand when her mother opened her mouth to speak. “I’m not you, Mom. I didn’t want this to happen, but I don’t feel obligated to marry my baby’s father the way you did.”

  Sarah put her hands on the table and looked her mother in the eye. “Promise.”

  Her mother twitched her lips. “Okay. Promise.”


  Sarah held up her right hand and crooked her little finger. “C’mon. Pinky promise.”

  Elizabeth grinned and hooked her small finger with Sarah. “Pinky promise.”

  Chapter 10

  Hunter stared at the pounding ocean waves peppered with surfers. The morning sun glinted on the whitecaps and the spray that developed when the surge of water slammed into the coastal cliff. Even on a February weekday morning, Santa Cruz drew people to the water.

  Dolphins arced by the edge of the pier.

  He wanted to be in the water, to get some part of his life back. He’d hoped a relationship with Sarah would help, but he wasn’t about to poach on some other guy’s territory. He’d already unknowingly done that once.

  His brief affair with Lauren had been all heat, the danger of being caught by the brass intensifying the flame. It was only after she had died that he learned she was still living with her husband.

  Sarah had concealed her pregnancy from him. He’d known something was up, but he hadn’t figured on a baby. Were all women duplicitous?

  His mind flitted to his father’s gun still locked in the glove box. He had to get rid of it. The damn thing was too accessible. Firearms and post-traumatic stress did not go together. His therapist had drummed that into him during the year of treatment he’d received.

  The mental injury had been worse than losing his leg.

  He shoved his thoughts away and continued his walk down West Cliff. A word on a tattered paper pinned to a community board caught his eye.

  AmpSurf.

  What did that mean?

  His pace quickened as he skirted the ice plant creeping over the sidewalk. Crinkling his eyes against the salty wind, he quickly scanned the announcement of an upcoming surfing clinic for amputees.

  Was it possible?

  He clicked his phone and went to the organization’s website.

  Not only was it possible, but the group had been doing clinics for years for people exactly like him.

  He laughed and picked up the pace of his morning walk. If surfing was possible, he could do anything.