by L. P. Dover
Kyler’s smile widens. “I don’t mind at all.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course, you don’t.”
When I get into the living room, my dad and Logan walk through the front door, and Logan rushes over to hug me. “Night, Mom. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You better not watch our show tonight without me.”
He laughs. “I won’t. Poppy and I are going to watch football.”
I kiss his cheek and say goodbye to my parents, hoping I can get a head start on Kyler. With his knee, it’ll take him an hour to walk with me. If I can run home before he gets to the door, I’ll be okay. I walk out onto the front porch, but before I can get to the steps, his voice calls out behind me.
“Were you trying to leave me?”
“Of course not,” I reply sarcastically, turning around to face him. “I was just getting some fresh air.” I turn so quickly it throws me off balance—damn wine. I’m about to fall down the stairs until Kyler rushes over, grabbing me around the waist to steady me. My breaths come out in rapid pants as I hold onto him, my heart beating out of control. I’m never out of control, but yet, I drank too much, and here I am, making a fool out of myself. I push Kyler away and stand up straight. “I’m fine.”
Kyler holds up his hands. “I see that. Although I did just save you from faceplanting on the concrete.” My cheeks burn from embarrassment. I do feel like an idiot.
With a heavy sigh, I slowly take each step one at a time. The cold air feels good against my heated skin. I glance over my shoulder at Kyler to see if he needs help getting down the stairs. Much to my surprise, he marches down them perfectly. No limp or any indication he’s in pain.
I peer down at his knee and then back up to his face. “How did your knee miraculously get better?”
His mischievous grin says it all. “I might’ve exaggerated it a little bit to get your attention. Now at the race, I did hear something pop, but it happens all the time. I never fully got better after hurting my knee in college.”
“Should I be flattered?” I ask blandly.
His smile slightly fades. “Come on, Maeve. I’m trying to be your friend, but you’re making it difficult.”
“You didn’t try in high school. What makes now any different?”
“Are you seriously going to hold that over my head? We graduated almost twenty years ago.”
He has a point. I’m not even the same girl I was twenty years ago. “You’re right,” I say, turning away from him. I start toward my house, and he walks beside me. “I shouldn’t hold it against you. I’m sorry. It’s just high school was miserable for me. I couldn’t wait to get away from here. And now, I’m back.”
“I’m sorry too, Maeve. If I could go back and change how I was, I would. There’s no excuse.” He gently takes my arm and stands in front of me. “And being back here isn’t so bad. You have your family, and your son looks thrilled.”
Honestly, that’s all that matters to me. “I do believe he is,” I agree.
Kyler holds out his hand. “Think we can start over? I’m Kyler. It’s nice to meet you.”
I look at his hand and then back to his face. “Fine.” I shake his hand. “I’m Maeve. It’s nice to meet you too.”
He nods toward my house. “Do you mind if I walk you home?”
“Sure. I am a little on the drunk side. The wine was exceptional, by the way. What made you pick the Chardonnay?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I thought you might like it.”
I smile. “Good guess.”
His grin widens. “I finally got a smile out of you tonight. This makes me happy.”
Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. “Don’t get used to it. I’m blaming it on the wine.” We make it to my house, and he helps me up the front steps. Instead of going to the door, I walk over to the porch swing. I sit down, but he keeps his distance. I pat the spot beside me. “You can sit if you want. It feels too good out here to go inside.”
He bursts out laughing. “That’s the wine talking.” He sits beside me, and we rock slowly. I close my eyes and listen to the silence. There wasn’t such a thing when I lived in Baltimore. There was always something going on, causing the noise.
“So, what happened to you in college?” I say, opening my eyes so I can look at him. “I thought for sure you’d make it to the NFL.”
A sad smile spreads across his face. “So, did I. I had a full ride, but after I tore my ACL, I lost all hope.”
“Were you able to finish college?”
His jaw clenches, and he looks down at his hands. “No.”
In that one simple reply, I can feel the heaviness of it. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“It’s okay,” he answers. “It’s not a secret. Do you remember Tessa from high school?”
How could I forget? “She was your girlfriend.”
His eyes flash with anger. “We were together in college, but then after I tore my ACL, she wound up pregnant.” I was not expecting that, and he can tell by my expression. “Yeah, it shocked me too. I ended up quitting school and getting a job at the bank to support us. It turns out she had cheated on me, and the baby was the other guy’s.”
I slap a hand over my mouth. “Oh my God, that’s horrible. I can’t believe she did that to you.”
He sighs. “Me either. Last I heard, she’s still with him, and they have two other kids together.”
Shaking my head, I lean my back against the swing. “It’s craziness, I tell you. Then again, things happen for a reason.”
“True.” We rock back and forth on the swing a few more times. “What about you and your ex-husband? What happened there?” he asks, his voice curious.
I can see him staring at me through the corner of my eye, but I keep my focus straight ahead. “We grew apart. Ethan’s a pilot and works all the time. Logan and I never saw him. Eventually, it got to the point where I didn’t feel married anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” Kyler murmurs.
This time, I look over at him. “Ethan loved his job more than me. He calls Logan all the time and sends me money to take care of him, but it’s not the same. Logan doesn’t seem to mind, but I know he needs a father figure in his life. That’s why we moved back here.”
Kyler’s eyes slide down to my lips, but then he averts his gaze. “I don’t see how he does it. There’s no way I could leave a wife and child like that. Some idiots just don’t know what they got.”
This makes me smile. “Exactly. Maybe someone should’ve told Ethan and Tessa that.”
Kyler shrugs. “I’m not worried about it. My life is better now.”
“So is mine.”
We rock for a few more minutes, but then he plants his feet to stop the swing. “It’s getting late. I want to make sure you get inside where it’s warm before I leave.” He stands and holds out a hand, so I take it, and he helps me up. The tipsiness I had earlier is gone, and I’m more coherent. I remember everything he said to me. Kyler slowly lets my hand go and slides his hands into his jean pockets. “I’m probably pressing my luck right now, but will you be at the festival tomorrow?”
I nod. “I will be, but I’ll be on the clock.”
“What about afterward? Think you might want to grab dinner with me?”
I look into Kyler’s hypnotic blue eyes, and the word slips out of my mouth. “Yes.”
He smiles and steps back. “Great. Honestly, I thought you’d say no.”
“I still might.” But then I wink. “Just kidding. I had a good time talking to you tonight. There’s no reason why we can’t be friends.”
His grin widens. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Now go inside, so I know you aren’t going to freeze to death out here.”
Chuckling, I unlock the front door and step inside, leaning against the door after I shut it. My heart races, and I blow out a breath. “What the hell am I doing?” Honestly, I don’t know, but it feels right. Talk about a change of heart.
Six
Kyler<
br />
Being the manager of a multi-chain bank has its rewards. There are downfalls as well, but when your bank is number one in the state, one of the major sponsors of local and statewide events, and you have an excellent staff that doesn’t necessarily need you all day, you’re allowed to take a day off or two. Thankfully, it’s a short work week at the bank, and each of the branch managers and assistants are dutifully working to keep our operation as smooth as possible. Also, lucky for me, my office is right in Plymouth. It was one of the stipulations when I accepted the job—that I stay in my hometown. I wanted to be close to my parents and serve the community I grew up in. The Board of Directors agreed with the understanding that either my assistant or I travel to each event to make our presence known. The thing is, the tellers, managers, and our community rep team love doing these festivals and sign up for as many as they can each year.
After I make an appearance in the office, I find myself wandering around the festival. The event is set up in the park, with vendors, artisans, and food trucks along the outside, and the carnival is in the middle. For as long as I can remember, the Turkey Festival has been a part of Plymouth, and as an adult, I found it odd we’d celebrate Thanksgiving the way we do.
“Mr. Groff.” I turn at the sound of my name. Evelyn Pritchard is waving me toward her. “Mr. Groff, I don’t see your name on the pie-eating contest.”
I pat my belly and shake my head. “Sorry, Mrs. Pritchard, I love pumpkin pie, but I don’t know if I could eat more than a slice or two.”
“Oh, nonsense,” she says, waving her hand in the air. “When it’s topped with my homemade pumpkin-flavored whipped cream, you can eat a whole pie.”
She’s wrong. So, very wrong. “Let me think about it.” I wave and step away from the booth and back out into the crowd, hoping to hide among the masses. The rides are going, kids are laughing, and a man walks around on stilts making animal-shaped balloons.
The whole reason I’m down here is to see Maeve. She said she was working but never mentioned if she’d be here or at the station. I probably should’ve checked the station house first since it’s closer to my office. As I round the bend to where the medic tent is, I see a group of kids standing there, undoubtedly collecting the free items they’re handing out. I know I took the stress ball and pen they offered.
I don’t know what spurs me to do this, but I stop walking and just watch her interact with the kids as soon as I see Maeve. She’s crouched down to talk to the kids, whereas another medic is bent over. Maeve is a natural with the children. She pulls her stethoscope from around her neck, cleans the earpieces, and then gently sets them into a little boy’s ears. She holds the diaphragm up to his chest, and his eyes go wide. Oddly, I’m jealous of the attention and finally step forward. When Maeve sees me, she stands and takes her instrument back from the child.
“Hi,” she says, which is much better than the last couple of times she’s greeted me.
“Hey, Mr. Groff.” Logan comes up to me and gives me a fist bump.
“Hi, Logan. You can call me Kyler or Ky. How come you’re not in school?”
“Half day,” Maeve says. “My parents went over to Manchester to finish grocery shopping for Thanksgiving, and Logan didn’t want to go, so he’s here.”
Something tells me that Logan is bugging his mom while she’s trying to work. “Why don’t I take Logan for a bit.”
Maeve’s eyes go wide while Logan jumps up and down.
“We’ll stick to the area, probably go sign-up for the pie contest or something.”
“You don’t really have to this, Kyler. He’s fine, just hanging out.”
Logan feels otherwise and lets his mom know it with a long, drawn-out, “Mom.”
I set my hand on her forearm and let it slide gently down until our hands touch. I give her a reaffirming squeeze. “Until dinner, I’m free. I’d love to hang with Logan.”
Maeve looks from me to her son and back to me. “Are you sure? He’s a good boy but a chatterbox and can be a handful.”
“Without a doubt. We’ll be back,” I tell her. “Maybe with gifts and milkshakes.”
Logan kisses his mom goodbye, and I leave my cell number with her, just in case. When we are a few feet away, I turn to see what she’s doing and find her staring at me. Well, more than likely, she’s watching her son, but for a moment, I’m going to assume she’s checking me out.
“Do you work?” Logan asks.
“I do. I manage about thirty banks all over New Hampshire.”
“Do you have any kids?”
“Nope, I don’t have a wife either.”
Logan looks at me oddly. “If you had a wife, you wouldn’t be talking to my mom.”
“You’re right. I wouldn’t.”
I steer us toward the food trucks. I’m starving, and if I remember correctly, young growing boys can eat a house and still be hungry an hour later. Logan and I walk up and down the food alley, looking at the menu until we decide we’re doing to have deep-fried Oreos with vanilla ice cream and corn dogs. He wanted to top this off with cotton candy, but I told him there was no way I’m getting him high on sugar.
We sit down at one of the picnic tables and dig in.
“How do you like Plymouth?”
“It’s okay. I miss my dad, but he’s never home, so at least I have my poppy.”
“If I remember correctly, you’re a Ravens fan.”
He nods, and his smile beams brightly.
“You know you’re in Patriot territory, right?”
Logan shrugs. “I know, but my mom says I can root for whatever team I want, and poppy says I can still be a Ravens fan and root for the Patriots.”
“That’s until they play each other, right?”
He nods. “Yep, then those Pats are going down.”
I sigh. “Honestly, with the year they’re having, I wouldn’t doubt it.”
“Do you ever root for other teams?”
“Only those who are playing against the Steelers and the Cowboys.”
“Yeah, Poppy doesn’t like the Steelers either.”
Logan and I continue to eat our Oreo’s. This wasn’t what I had in mind for lunch, but it’ll suffice. We talk about his school and how he thinks it’s funny that his teacher also taught his mom. He tells me about his peewee team and how their season is almost done and invites me to a game next week, which I tell him I’ll be there.
“Are you going to forget?” he asks. “Because my dad forgot all the time.”
“Nope, I don’t forget anything.” I fetch my phone from my pocket and open my calendar. I type in “Logan’s Game,” add the time and location and click save. “There, one hour before game time, my phone will remind me. But I won’t need one.”
Logan looks at me warily. I hate that look and wish I could understand why some people put their careers in front of their children. When Tessa told me she was pregnant, I never thought twice about leaving school. I was hurt, had a long road of recovery, and the kid who took my place as the starting quarterback was much better than I was. At best, I would’ve seen a down or two if we had a commanding lead. That was no way for me to earn a spot in the draft, so I bailed. There are times I regret it, but I’ve done pretty well for myself. I know I’m stuck in a small town, but it is what it is.
After we gorge on fried Oreo’s and ice cream, Logan wants to ride the rides. In my first and only fatherly act, I tell him we must wait for a mandatory one-hour so our food can settle. I don’t know if this is true or not, but it seems plausible. All I know is, if I get on the ride right now, I’m heaving my cookies.
We do end up taking Maeve a chocolate milkshake. According to Logan, it’s her favorite. I’ve taken this tidbit of information and locked it away for future use. She beams when he hands it to her and deems it to be the best milkshake she’s ever had. When a friend of Logan’s calls his name, he tells us he’ll be right back. I watch to see where he’s going and then step toward Maeve.
“I may have fed him some suga
r.”
She sighs. “I figured. I forgot to set the rules.”
“He totally suckered me with fried Oreo’s and ice cream.”
Maeve laughs. “He’s very good like that. He’s definitely a sweet talker.” She steps away to talk to someone who has approached the booth. While she works, I study Logan and how he interacts with his friends. He’s much like me or much like most boys his age. We wanted to play football, get dirty, eat everything, and talk about pretty girls when our parents weren’t around.
Logan comes back to the booth and asks me if I want to play some games with him and his friends. I stifle a laugh but quickly realize that Logan wants to include me. “You bet.” We tell Maeve we’ll be back, and we both say it in the Terminator’s voice.
“You’re too young to watch a movie like that,” I tell him as we head to the games.
“I haven’t seen it, but sometimes the commercial plays on TV, and mom tells me about it.”
After an hour or two, I’m exhausted, and Logan has his arms full of stuffed animals. We head back to the medic tent with our loot.
“Oh, boy,” Maeve says when she sees us. “Logan, what are you going to do with all these toys?” She asks as he dumps them down onto the table.
“Well, I thought you could put them out here so the kids who don’t win can take something home.”
Maeve squats down so she’s eye level with her son. “That’s very thoughtful of you. Did you ask Kyler if it’s okay since I’m assuming he paid for the games?”
Logan looks up and smiles. “Ky, is it okay if we give these away?”
“Absolutely,” I tell him. Logan drops the toys and organizes them into a line. Once he’s done, he tells his mom he sees a friend and must say hi.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to thank you for spending time with him. You didn’t have to.”
“I know I didn’t, but I want to get to know him. Just like I want to get to know you.”
Maeve blushes and looks down at the ground. I reach for her hand, locking my fingers with hers, and give her hand a gentle squeeze. She looks at me, her eyes bright but show so much fear. She’s been hurt, but so have I.
