The Broken One

by Cardello, Ruth

  One of the town officials had warned me that the current store was owned by a family closely tied to the community. Close ties with influential people.

  Was that supposed to intimidate me? Instead it made the project more appealing.

  Let the battle begin.

  I drew up some initial plans, then hit the gym for an hour. After a light lunch, I felt better. Hell, I almost smiled at Miss Steele as I walked past her desk, but I didn’t want to set a new precedent for our exchanges.

  I came to a sliding halt when I saw that I had company in my office. My mother rose as soon as she sensed my arrival.

  “Mom, is everything okay?”

  She came toward me. “Does something have to be wrong for me to visit my son?”

  “No, of course not.” I closed the door to my office. Something in her eyes told me that my mood was about to take another hit. “If this is about yesterday, I’d rather not talk about it.”

  She cupped the side of my face with one hand. Tall and proud with dark-brown eyes and shoulder-length hair that was just beginning to be peppered with gray, Camilla Romano looked every bit the strong Italian mother she prided herself on being. “Another year, Sebastian. Your brothers said this one was rough.”

  I covered her hand with mine. “Sometimes they say more than they need to.”

  “Only because they love you.”

  “I know, Mom.”

  “Love is a strength, not a weakness, Sebastian. You used to understand that.”

  I gently removed her hand from my face and stepped back. “I can’t do this, Mom. I’m sorry.”

  She reached into her oversize purse. “After talking to your brothers last night, your father and I decided it was time for you to take something back.”

  I knew. A part of me knew what she had in her bag. Time slowed. My vision narrowed to her bag and then to the brown bear she pulled from it.

  She held it out.

  I stood frozen. “No,” I said in a hoarse voice I didn’t recognize as my own.

  She took my hand in hers and placed the teddy bear in my hand. “Yes. Five years, Sebastian. You’ve tortured yourself enough. Don’t tell me you’ve moved on and only think about them one day a year. I’m your mother. Even if you lie to yourself, you can’t lie to me. You hurt every day. You’re angry every day. Denying it won’t change it—all it does is stop you from moving on.”

  “Is that what you think I should do? Move on? Forget about them?” I could barely get the words out.

  Her eyes misted with love. “No. No. Remember them. Let yourself honor them the way they would want you to. Be the man Therese loved.”

  “That man died with her.”

  My mother shook her head and laid her hand on my chest. “He didn’t. He’s right here. You think you’re the only one who lost someone that day? I lost them, too, and my son. But he can come back—he just has to want to.”

  I hated the tears that filled my eyes, but I couldn’t hate the woman before me. “I fall apart when I remember.”

  She took my hand in hers. “Because you push the memories so far down, they come back with the power of a volcano.” We stood there for a long moment without saying anything. “I have something else to show you.”

  I wouldn’t have stood there for anyone else, but there was no doubt my mother was acting out of concern for me. She was the kind of woman who loved with her whole heart and without condition. On my worst day, I would never so much as raise my voice to her.

  She fiddled with her phone for a moment, then held it out toward me. “A friend of mine shared this post with me. I know this sounds crazy, but when your brothers told me about what you found last night . . . I couldn’t help thinking that it might be what this woman is looking for.”

  It was a post that offered a hundred-dollar reward for the return of a missing stuffed animal. The post described how it had been lost along the same road I’d found it on and that her little girl was missing him terribly. A hundred-dollar reward? Her child must be pretty attached to it.

  I groaned. Wolfie? Yes, I knew those glassy blue eyes and that his fur was every bit as sticky as it looked in the photo. “I had him, but I told Miss Steele to throw him out this morning.”

  Because I’m an asshole.

  My mother smiled. “I bet she still has him.”

  “I’m sure she doesn’t.”

  “How sure are you?”

  “Why?”

  “Sometimes things are not as lost as we think they are. If Miss Steele threw the stuffed animal away, I promise to leave and not bring it up again.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “But if I’m right and she still has it, you have to promise to do something.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you already know she has it?”

  My mother’s eyes rounded with innocence. “Are you suggesting I’d cheat?”

  “Never.” Think it—yes. Suggest it? No. I’d never hear the end of it.

  “Okay, then, if Miss Steele still has this Wolfie, you’ll personally deliver it to the child who lost it.”

  “If she still has it, Miss Steele is welcome to leave early to deliver it herself.”

  “No, you, Sebastian. You need to do it.” She gave my hand a squeeze. “The Sebastian I raised would have, and he would have done it gladly.”

  “I’m not that man anymore.”

  “Then maybe it’s time you start acting like him. One act of kindness to bring a smile to a child. You owe this to yourself and to the memory of your family.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t.”

  “I know what it brings back, but one day your brothers will have children. Will you avoid them too? Do this one thing for me.”

  My answer was a curt nod.

  She dropped my hand, walked over, and opened the door. “Miss Steele, could you come here, please?”

  “Of course,” my assistant answered before appearing in the doorway.

  My mother turned to me.

  I cleared my throat. “Miss Steele, that thing that was left on your desk last night?”

  “Yes?”

  “Did you throw it away?” I asked with more growl in my voice than I meant to.

  She looked from me to my mother and back. Her hesitation was telling. I could have let her sweat it out, but I decided to be kind. “If you haven’t, we appear to have located its owner and would like to return it to her.”

  Only then did I realize I was waving my child’s brown teddy bear around as I spoke. I have finally completely lost my fucking mind.

  Red-faced, Miss Steele said, “Oh, good. I thought you were upset I hadn’t thrown it away yet. I was going to, but I didn’t have the heart to. I had a stuffed zebra, Harvey, when I was little, and, I don’t know . . . this toy looks like it is loved by someone. I’m so glad I trusted my gut. You found the owner? That’s amazing.”

  “Yes,” I said curtly.

  “Oh, I’ll go get it,” Miss Steele said before rushing back to her office.

  “She has it,” my mother said, smiling.

  “So it seems.”

  Back in a flash, Miss Steele handed me the wolf. I stood there with a toy in either hand, feeling like I’d completely lost control of the situation. I held them up. A pristine teddy bear and a wolf that had known a much more active, child-rich life—one that had apparently required sewing one of his legs back together.

  Miss Steele made a smart and hasty retreat.

  My mother returned to my side. “There’s a phone number on the post. Christof did a little checking into them for me. The mother’s name is Heather Ellis.” My mother pulled a piece of paper out of her purse. “This is their address.”

  I took it in the same hand as the damn stuffed wolf. “I don’t have time to do this today.”

  “You promised, Sebastian.”

  Did I? Fuck.

  “Fine. I’ll drop it off on my way home. Is there anything else?”

  “We’ll see you Sunday?”

  �
�I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

  She gave my cheek a warm pat. “I know you’ll tell me it doesn’t matter, but there’s one more thing I think you should know.”

  I was already a tangle of emotions, but there was no escape. “What?”

  With a Mona Lisa smile, my mother said, “She’s single.” Then she walked out of my office and left me standing there with a pounding headache, two stuffed animals, and the address of a woman I had no desire to meet.

  CHAPTER SIX

  * * *

  HEATHER

  Between rinsing off our dinner plates and placing them in the dishwasher, I kept glancing over to the area where Ava and her friend Charlotte were playing with dolls. Whoever thought of the open concept for homes was brilliant.

  When my phone beeped, I wiped my hands, answered it, and turned so I could watch the children.

  “How are they doing?” Erica, Charlotte’s mother, asked. Erica was a stay-at-home parent who lived one block over, and meeting her at the park when Ava was still in a stroller had felt like winning the lottery. Even though Erica was my age, Charlotte was her third child, and Erica therefore had a wealth of experience I often took advantage of. Is this a rash or hives? How do you get dirt out of a skinned knee? Help, Ava has decided vegetables are evil. Erica either knew the answer or she had a story that made me feel better about not knowing.

  Pure gold.

  When I’d told Erica that I hadn’t found Wolfie, she’d suggested a playdate with Charlotte. Charlotte had been with me when I’d picked up Ava, and Ava had been so excited to see her friend she hadn’t asked me about Wolfie. She’d gotten in the car without hesitation, and we’d even enjoyed a pleasant dinner. While she’d been distracted, I’d stashed the box with the new wolf in the other room. Eventually Charlotte would go home, and I was doing my best to prepare for the tough questions that would surely follow.

  “Great. You’re a genius,” I said in absolute appreciation. “Really, I can’t thank you enough.”

  Erica chuckled. “Stop. It’s as much a favor to me as to you. I played outside with the boys, then actually got to hear about how their days were. I love my daughter, but she is a chatterbox. Bob is home. Should I leave the boys here or bring them with me?”

  “I can drop Charlotte off if you want.”

  “No, don’t worry about it. It gives me an excuse to take a walk. If I’m lucky, Bob will have the kitchen cleaned by the time we get back.”

  See why I worship her genius?

  “Bring the boys. Ava loves them.”

  “Tyler and Kevin get a kick out of her too. They tell Charlotte that’s what a girl is supposed to look like.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Brothers.”

  “Yeah,” I said, even though I’d always wished I’d had one. “Charlotte is a beautiful little girl and so polite.” She really was. Dark-blonde hair down to her waist. Striking hazel eyes just like her mother. Her brothers could say what they wanted, but one day they’d be beating admirers away from her. For now, though, she was rough around the edges from trying to keep up with the twins.

  “Not to her brothers this week. Bob keeps thinking we need one more child, but I already feel like I’m a lion tamer. Three kids under the age of seven. He’s lucky he gets any sex at all.”

  I laughed, glad I hadn’t chosen speakerphone. “Well, we’re here when you want to pick her up.”

  “I’ll head over now.”

  A few minutes later, after a knock, my door opened, and all quiet vanished. Tyler and Kevin were wild six-year-old twins no mere mortal could contain. They bounded through my house like puppies, chasing each other up the staircase that led to our bedrooms, then back down.

  Erica closed the door behind her, then called out, “Boys, stay downstairs.” Her smile was apologetic as she crossed to where Charlotte and Ava were still playing. “I did offer to leave them home.”

  I didn’t mind. They were high energy, but good outside of that. As they ran past again, I said, “How was school, boys?”

  Kevin made a face at me. “School is a bad word.”

  Tyler danced back and forth in front of him in a playful manner. “You’re a bad word.”

  They chased each other around my couch. Pop—one went up and over the back of it. The other followed like it was a vaulting competition. “Easy, guys. No one is allowed to break their neck until summer vacation.”

  Kevin stopped and smiled. “Summer. Now that is a good word.”

  Tyler tackled him. “Got you.”

  As they wrestled on the floor, Erica met my gaze and shrugged. “I can yell at them, but my guess is someone in their class had a birthday party today. They came home like this.”

  “They’re good,” I assured her. My childhood had been a quiet and lonely one. I didn’t want Ava to have the same memories. A little chaos was a positive in my mind.

  “Charlotte, get your shoes on.” To me, Erica said, “You’re a saint and the only babysitter they like.”

  “They’re always good for me.” They ran past again. “I just don’t ask them to sit down. I’m sure they’ve had enough of that by the time they get home.”

  Erica laughed. “When they’re like this, I imagine years of uncomfortable parent-teacher meetings.”

  I smiled. “I see future track stars. Possibly Olympic gold with their stamina.”

  She nodded, looking pleased. “That’s why they love you.”

  My doorbell rang.

  “Do you mind watching them while I answer that?” Still in my clothes from work, but barefoot, I answered the door.

  The first thing I saw was his tie. I had what could almost be called a fascination with them. Ties said a lot about a man. Some refused to even wear them. Some lacked the discipline to tie them with precision. Don’t even get me started on knot types. Some men’s education stopped with the four-in-hand their fathers had taught them. Others sported Full Windsors like peacocks fluffing their feathers. The one before me was a crisp Neapolitan knot, an international, old-world preference. Done wrong, a tall man might end up with a tie that was too short, but whoever this man was, he was too sophisticated for such a faux pas.

  His jacket was expensive and expertly tailored. He was tall with broad shoulders. Strong. Powerful. He filled my doorway like a linebacker. My guess was his shirt concealed a delicious set of muscled abs. Whatever he was selling, I’d take one—maybe two.

  I slowly made my way upward. Nice jaw. Clean cut. Square with just the beginning of dark stubble. I indulged in a quick fantasy of how that stubble would scrape a tantalizing path as he kissed his way from my jaw down to my . . .

  The stern line of his lips brought me back to reality. His mind didn’t appear to be going where mine was.

  My eyes flew to his. Striking, dark, but not black. Gray? Long lashes I’d kill for. Too bad he was glaring at me. Whatever had brought him to my door, he was not happy about it. He oozed power and authority. Not a politician. Too well dressed to be a police investigator. Government official? Was one of my clients involved in something I didn’t know about?

  I instantly pictured being handcuffed . . . then being handcuffed naked . . . then how he’d look handcuffed to my bed. Hey, I was a woman in my prime who hadn’t had sex since I’d brought Ava home. Four years is a long time. Still, I gave myself a mental shake. “Can I help you?”

  He looked me over, and my body warmed everywhere his eyes wandered. Sadly, he didn’t look any happier when his gaze met mine again. “Miss Ellis?”

  “That’s me.” I smiled. He didn’t smile back.

  “I found something—”

  When he brought his hand around, I saw the most glorious thing. Everything else fell away as relief swept through me. “Wolfie.” I couldn’t help myself; I launched myself at the man and hugged him so tightly I’m pretty sure the sound I heard him emit was the air I’d crushed out of him.

  The sheer joy of the moment consumed me. I didn’t realize how uncomfortable I was making the man un
til he set me firmly back from him. I couldn’t even be offended; I was that grateful.

  We stood there for a moment, me smiling ear to ear, him looking as happy as someone having a tooth extracted. He held Wolfie up. “Well, here it is.”

  I was about to take him when Ava squealed from behind me. “Wolfie!” She snatched him from the man and hugged the stuffed animal to her chest, closing her eyes to savor the feel of him. She breathed him in. Spun with him. Laughed. Cried a little.

  I nearly burst into tears watching her, even though I was still smiling.

  “Everybody,” Ava called out, “Wolfie is home.”

  Charlotte came running, along with her two brothers. She and Ava danced in a circle while Kevin and Tyler hooted and cheered. Above the mayhem, I said, “Ava, you didn’t even say thank you. This nice man found him and brought him home to us.”

  Ava walked over and looked up at the towering man. I was about to prompt her a second time when she tugged on the sleeve of his jacket.

  He frowned down at her.

  She tugged again.

  The boys raced back into the other room. Erica appeared and stood beside her daughter. She looked from my unsmiling visitor to me and wiggled her eyebrows, mouthing the word “Yummy.”

  The man bent a little, and at Ava’s insistence bent further. She studied his face. “Thank you.”

  A real sadness glimmered in his eyes as he answered. “You’re welcome. I’m glad he’s back where he belongs.”

  “Can I hug you?” Ava asked, cocking her head to one side.

  See, a better version of me. She at least asked.

  Now that I’d had more time with him, I regretted my earlier impulsiveness. Nothing about him looked the least bit huggable. Fuckable, yes. Fantasy fuckable, but not more than that. Life was hard enough without looking across the breakfast table every morning at a man who didn’t know how to smile. I’m pretty sure that was why my mother left my father. It was why I had distanced myself from him. He always focused on what he didn’t have rather than what he had. There was no pleasing him, because in his core, he was not a happy person.

  I swore I would never be like that.

  Happiness doesn’t just happen. It’s a decision. Like anything else, it needs to be tended and protected. Negative people had no place in the new life I’d built for myself.