“But it’s true,” she wept. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before in my entire life.”
“You’re so young, Frannie. You’ll meet someone else who can be what you want.”
“I want you, you big jerk,” she said, going to wipe her eyes but struggling to get her hand free from the long arms of my coat. Finally she gave up and the tears fell freely while I stood there helpless and angry. The thought of her with someone else made me want to put my fist through the barn’s glass door.
“You think you want me, but you don’t,” I told her. “Where do you see this going, Frannie? Where does it end? Because it has to end somewhere.”
“Why?” she sobbed.
“Because you want things I can’t give you.”
“Like what?”
“You want a husband. You want children.” I shook my head. “I’m never getting married again, and I’ve already had my children.”
“I’ve never even brought that up,” she said, finally fishing a hand from my sleeve and dragging her wrist below her nose.
“But it’s true, isn’t it? You’re envious of Ryan and Stella. You see how easy it could be. You want that promise of a future together, and you should have everything you want. I just can’t be part of it, and when you realize that down the road, you’ll leave.”
“You mean you won’t.”
“What?”
“You won’t be part of it.” She took a step closer to me and looked me right in the eye. “You’re choosing to end this now because you’d rather be alone than take a chance on a future with me. You’re afraid.”
I bristled. “I’m realistic. I know what I am and what I’m not capable of. And the girls are already too attached to you. What happens to them when this falls apart? They’ll be devastated. They’ll hate me.”
“Don’t blame this on the girls,” she said, sliding my coat from her arms and shoving it at me. “This is all you.”
“Frannie, come on. I didn’t want it to be like this.”
But she spun on her heel, yanked open the door, and disappeared inside the barn.
Hanging my head, I stood there for a moment with my coat in my hands and told myself I’d done the right thing—for my kids, for Frannie, for myself.
But I’d never felt worse.
Somehow I made it through most of the reception, but just after nine I told Woods that I had to get going. I made up a story about one of the kids not feeling well, but I think he knew it was bullshit. He didn’t say anything, though, just gave me a hug and said he’d give me a call once he and Stella were back from their honeymoon. I congratulated them both, kissed Stella on the cheek, and left.
I knew what Frannie meant when she’d said she envied them. I did too.
My coat was in my office back at the inn, so I walked across the path and went to retrieve it. While I was there, I dropped into my chair and sat there for a moment, feeling dejected and empty. It didn’t seem possible that just a few days before, I’d had Frannie right here on this desk, not a care in the world beyond making her feel amazing. And now look what I’d done.
I should have known better.
Squeezing my eyes shut against the image of her and everything good she brought to my life, I jumped up from my chair, threw my coat over my arm, and took off.
At home, I undressed in the bathroom and crawled into Millie’s bottom bunk, where I’d been sleeping since my parents arrived. But there was no way I could sleep tonight. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw those tears running down her cheeks in the dark. I heard her voice telling me she loved me. I felt the unbearable burden of knowing that I’d broken her heart.
I hoped she’d forgive me someday.
Frannie
I kept my head down as I hurried through the barn, which hummed with the happy noise of a wedding reception—the band playing up front, the clink of silverware on glasses, the laughter and chatter of the guests. With tears continuing to fall, I blindly made my way to the back of the room and hunted for April. Spotting her over by the cake table, I headed in that direction.
“Hey,” I said, tapping her shoulder.
“Hey.” She turned and gasped. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to leave. Do you have enough help the rest of the night?”
“Of course. Are you okay?”
I shook my head and tried to choke back the sobs that threatened to erupt. “Mack broke it off.”
Another gasp. “Why?”
“He had a lot of reasons, but I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”
“Okay. I understand.” She gave me a hug. “Go cry it out. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Thanks. Make an excuse to Mom and Dad for me, okay?”
“Sure. I’m really sorry, Frannie. I know how you feel about him.”
I couldn’t even talk anymore, so I just nodded and walked away, my chest aching and my throat tight. After grabbing my coat from the back office, I stuck my hands in my pockets and walked along the pathway from the barn to the inn, crying openly.
When I’d gotten dressed tonight, I’d been so excited. So hopeful. So happy.
How had everything gone so wrong so fast?
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of knocking on my apartment door. I reached for my phone to check the time. To my surprise, it was after ten already. I never slept this late, but then again, I’d barely slept at all.
Dragging myself out of bed, I wrapped my bathrobe around me and stumbled for the door.
“Yes?” I croaked before opening it. My voice was hoarse from crying and my eyes still stung.
“Hey, sweetie. You okay?” The voice was Chloe’s.
I opened the door and saw her standing there with two cardboard coffee cups in her hands. “I take it April told you what happened with Mack.”
“Yes, but only me. Mom and Dad think you weren’t feeling well, which freaked Mom out, of course, but then I told her it was just cramps.”
“Thanks. Come on in.”
“You look terrible,” she said, kicking the door shut.
“I feel worse,” I assured her, heading for the couch. I flopped onto it and curled into a ball, wrapping my furry blanket around me.
“So do you want to talk about it?” She sat next to me and set one cup on the table. “That’s for you.”
“What’s to talk about?” I set my chin on my knees. “He doesn’t want me.”
“No. I don’t buy it. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, I’ve heard the way he talks about you. The guy adores you.”
“Not enough,” I said, feeling my throat get tight again. “He said things were moving too fast and it was making him feel bad. He hated all the sneaking around, but he didn’t want to tell the kids.”
“I don’t get that.” Chloe frowned and shook her head. “I could see if you were some strange woman he met at a bar somewhere that he wouldn’t want to bring you around his kids too soon. But he’s known you for years. He’s known this family forever. And his kids already love you.”
“I think that’s part of the problem.” I took a shuddery breath. “He’s afraid they’re too attached to me.”
“How is that a problem?”
“It wouldn’t be if we wanted the same things in the future. But he claims he’s never getting married again and doesn’t want more kids.”
“Are you okay with that?”
“I don’t know. I mean …” I sniffled. “Not really. I do want a husband and kids of my own someday. But it’s not like I need them tomorrow! Why can’t we see where this goes? Why does he have to freak out now?”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to lead you on. Or lead the kids on.” Chloe sipped her coffee and shrugged. “I mean, let’s say it goes great for a year, and you start to get dreamy about a diamond ring and a big white dress. Then what?”
“Then we could talk about it,” I snapped, annoyed that my sister would see his side.
“Okay, let’s say you talk about it and he stands firm. There will
be no second Mrs. Declan MacAllister. Then what?”
I struggled with it. “I don’t know. Why can’t he just love me enough, goddammit? And why are you on his side?”
“Oh, honey, I’m not. I think he’s crazy to give you up. I’m only trying to help you see it’s not that he doesn’t feel what you do. But he’s older and he’s been through a lot more. He’s not looking at this the same way you are. And he has a lot more baggage.”
“I know. Just forget it. It’s hopeless.” Dissolving into tears again, I tipped sideways in my faux fur cocoon and put my head in Chloe’s lap. “It was hopeless from the start.”
She stroked my hair and let me cry, but she didn’t tell me I was wrong.
Mack
Monday morning, I used the back door to the inn so I didn’t have to walk by the desk. By that afternoon, I was coming out of my skin, so I thought up an excuse to wander out to reception. Frannie’s mother was at the desk alone, and I asked her something inconsequential before ducking back down the hall to my office.
The day went on, and I never saw her. I started to get concerned. A few times I pulled out my phone and thought about texting or calling her, just to make sure she was okay, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
But she wasn’t there Tuesday, either, and I couldn’t take it anymore. Around ten, I wandered up to the desk and asked Daphne where she was.
“Oh, didn’t she tell you? She’s working in Traverse City this week at that coffee shop. She thought it would be a good idea to start there as soon as possible, learn the ropes before she started her own thing there.” Then she sighed. “I still think this is a crazy idea, and I can’t imagine what her father was thinking to encourage her, but …” She threw up her hands. “I’m just her mother, what do I know?”
“So she’s not working here at all anymore?”
Daphne shook her head. “No. On Sunday afternoon she came down and said that she really needed to start there as soon as possible, and could I please do without her starting Monday. I said I could, and I’m looking for a replacement. You don’t know anyone who’d be good at reception, do you?”
“Not offhand, but I’ll think about it.” I wished her luck and went back to my office, where I sank into my chair and stared blankly at my laptop. So I wouldn’t see her here anymore. I frowned. Had she quit early because of me? Was she going to quit watching the girls too? Would she even contact me to let me know?
I went home anxious and frustrated and angry with myself. Of course, I took it out on the kids, snapping at them about homework, barking about chores, and insisting that they eat what I put on the plate in front of them without complaint or I was going to lose my fucking mind. I made Winnie cry, I sent Millie to her room, and I ignored Felicity when she asked me why I was acting like a grumpy old man.
I also put a lot of money in the swear jar.
The next day, I apologized and tried to make it up to them by taking them out for tacos after therapy. When we got home, I went into my room and called Frannie. She didn’t answer, and I left her a message.
“Hey, it’s me. I’m just wondering if you’re still coming to watch the girls this week. Let me know.” Then I paused, battling the urge to say more, to say I missed her, to say I was sorry, to say I loved her too, but it was too fucking much to handle. “I hope you’re okay.”
I hung up and threw my phone down on the bed, fisting my hands in my hair. Of course she isn’t okay, you fuckwit. Are you okay?
I wasn’t. Especially not when her text came about an hour later, which said,
I will be there.
That’s it. Four words.
I typed a reply, deleted it, typed another, and deleted that too.
Just leave her alone, MacAllister. It’s what she wants. You can give her that much.
On Thursday, I drove home from work with white knuckles. I’d never been so nervous to walk into my own house.
Frannie was at the counter with Felicity, and they both looked up when I entered the kitchen. Neither of them looked particularly happy to see me.
“Hey,” I said, testing my voice.
“Hi, Daddy. We’re doing my spelling words.”
“Good.”
Frannie slid off her chair. “Millie is at ballet. I think Winnie’s in the bathroom upstairs.”
“Okay.” I stuck my hands in my pockets.
“Bye, Felicity. See you tomorrow.” Eyes averted, Frannie moved past me into the back hall, and I followed her.
“How’d everything go at the new job?” I asked.
“Fine.” She tugged on her boots and put on her coat.
“Are you liking it?”
“Mmhm.” She freed her hair from the back of her coat and zipped it up. “See you tomorrow.”
“Frannie, wait.”
She froze with her back to me, one hand on the door.
“I hate this,” I said quietly.
“Me too. If you want to hire someone else to watch the girls, I’ll understand.”
I swallowed hard. “They’d miss you.”
“I’ll miss them too.”
“To be honest, I wasn’t even sure you’d show up today.”
“It was hard, but …” She glanced back at me. “I came for them.”
I nodded slowly. “Can you come one more time? Tomorrow? I’ll start looking for a replacement for next week.”
“Of course.” She paused. “I can tell them it’s because of my new job at the coffee shop. That way they aren’t confused or … hurt.”
She was still putting them first. It gutted me. “I’ll handle it. You don’t have to tell them anything.”
She left without saying goodbye.
That evening was a repeat performance of Tuesday, except I made Millie cry, I sent Felicity to her room, and Winnie didn’t even want me to kiss Ned the Hammerhead from Shedd goodnight.
“He doesn’t like it when you yell,” she told me, hugging the animal protectively.
“Tell him I’m sorry.” I brushed her damp hair back from her head. “I had a bad day.”
“Do you need a hug?” she asked. “Frannie says a hug makes a bad day better.”
I nodded, my throat aching. “Yeah. I think I do.”
She sat up and wrapped her arms around my neck. I held her little body close to mine, breathing in her baby shampoo scent and choking back tears. I just wanted to do right by her, by all of them.
But how were you supposed to know for sure what the right thing was? What felt right to me wasn’t necessarily what was best for them.
Why did everything have to be so complicated?
Friday afternoon, I was sitting at my desk, my laptop open in front of me, but my eyes weren’t on the screen. I was staring at the photo on my desk that Frannie had taken last summer at the Cloverleigh picnic. Winifred was on my shoulders, her tiny hands in mine, and the other two monkeys were hanging off my upper arms, their feet dangling. I remembered that day so vividly because it was the first day since Carla had left that all three kids seemed entirely happy—no tears, no asking for her, no whining of any kind. For the first time, I saw the possibility that we could be okay. There were still good times to be had.
That day, most of the good times were because of Frannie. She’d thought ahead and had plenty of activities she knew the kids would get excited about—games and crafts and time with the animals. She’d occupied them almost the entire picnic, which had afforded me the opportunity to relax with co-workers and friends. Actually, Cloverleigh had always felt more like a family to me, and Frannie had been a part of that.
Now she was gone, and I missed her terribly. It would get even worse when I hired a new nanny to replace her. I wouldn’t see her at work, I wouldn’t see her at home. The void in my life gnawed at me, a huge, gaping hole—and I’d dug it.
I dropped my forehead onto my fingertips.
“Everything okay?” a deep voice asked.
I looked up and saw John Sawyer in my office doorway. “Oh, hey, John. Come on in.
”
He ambled into my office, hitching up his jeans. “It’s nearly five. Why don’t you knock off for the night?”
“I could ask you the same thing.” I shut my laptop and gestured to the chairs across from me. “Have a seat.”
He lowered himself into one of them and exhaled. “I’m on my way out. My wife made me promise I wouldn’t work past five anymore, at least not in the winter.”
“Not a bad idea.”
“She’s got all these ideas about how to spend our winter evenings broadening our horizons and getting healthy. And she’s on me about retirement all the time. Wants to travel more.” He shook his head, ran a hand through his silvery hair. “She’s got Chloe and April on her side now too. They’re all teaming up against me. Trying to boot me out.”
I laughed. “I don’t know about that.”
“It’s true. You’ll see,” he grumbled. “Your daughters grow up and turn against you, Mack. They seem so sweet and innocent one day, holding your hand while they cross the street, and then you blink, and they’re grown, with their own ideas about how to run things and their opinions on everything you’re doing or not doing…” He snapped his fingers. “It happens just like that.”
I could already see it happening with my kids, so I knew he was right. “Yeah. Time moves too quickly.”
Sawyer sighed again. “It sure as hell does. And I suppose you have to make the most of what time you get here. It’s not like you get any kind of guarantee when your number’s gonna be up.”
I looked at him with concern. “Everything okay with your health?”
He waved a hand dismissively. “Eh, I’ve got some issues with my blood pressure, and the old ticker is getting a little worn, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“That’s good.”
He looked around my office, and the silence grew slightly uncomfortable. Did he know about Frannie and me? Did he know it was over? I felt like I owed him an apology, like I’d taken advantage of his trust and generosity. I was trying to think of a way to get it off my chest when he spoke again.
Irresistible: Cloverleigh Farms Standalone Page 21