Room to Breathe

by Liz Talley

  Ellery didn’t say anything, mostly because he reminded her of the kids she used to babysit when they lied about drinking cola before bed or hitting their brother. She was almost certain he knew exactly what she was talking about, but she wasn’t sure. “I’m not mad. I just needed to ask you because we haven’t been connecting, uh, sexually, that is.”

  “So you know, I haven’t had sex with you because I’ve been stressed. My hair is falling out, and I can’t concentrate on anything other than stupid school. I can’t believe you’re accusing me of . . . whatever it is you’re accusing me of.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just you don’t seem to be interested in me anymore. And then I found that video and my mind started jumping to conclusions, wondering if you’re—”

  “Gay? Is that what you’re implying?” He stood rigid, flushed and as angry as she’d ever seen him. “What makes you think I want to be with a guy, huh? Is there anything about me that makes you think I am gay?”

  Ellery shrank from his anger. “You’re making me seem crazy. I’m not. Any woman would ask about finding such a thing on her fiancé’s computer. Pair that with the fact we haven’t had sex in almost three months, and you can see that I might be worried.”

  “You want sex? Let’s go right now,” he said, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the stairs.

  “Stop, Josh. That’s not what I’m saying,” she said, jerking her arm away. She wished she hadn’t brought it up. They were finally having a nice evening, and he was spending quality time with her. Why had she asked him about the video now? It could have waited.

  “No. Come on. Let’s do it,” he insisted, tugging his shirt overhead before unbuttoning his jeans.

  “Stop. I don’t want to have sex right now. I just want to be assured that you still love me and that everything we have planned is still on track. After everything you just said, how can you be mad because I asked a question any normal person would ask? Because I doubt how you feel about me?”

  Josh paused and stared off into space, taking deep breaths. Finally, he looked at her. “I want what we’ve always planned. I’m sorry that I have been so obsessed with school. I want to do the best I can for us.”

  “That’s all I needed to hear, Josh. This weekend was a disaster and made me wonder if this is what you really want.” Doubt kept coming at her even as she wanted to cling to relief at Josh’s denial.

  “I know, and I’m sorry. I saw the bustier and fishnets and wished I had clued in better to what you needed. You shouldn’t have to tell me.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “I want to be the man you need, Elle, but I’m struggling with so much right now.”

  Her spidey senses tingled at those words. Was he saying . . . that he couldn’t be what she needed? Were his doubts about school or her? He looked so miserable standing there with his shirt balled in his hand, his eyes so sad. “Josh, you’re what I have always wanted.”

  She went to him and wrapped her arms around him.

  “I’m sorry, Elle,” he said, folding her into his embrace. “I’ll try harder. Things are going to be okay. We got this.”

  Then he gave her a sweet kiss that promised her he meant what he said, and for those seconds, Ellery believed everything would work out exactly as they had planned.

  Josh broke the kiss. “I don’t want to fight anymore. Why don’t we watch a movie?”

  “You don’t have to study tonight?” Ellery asked, almost afraid that he was joking. He’d complained about the time he’d had to spend away at the vineyard. A big quiz and something else that needed his absolute focus. So how did he suddenly have time for a movie?

  “I do. Since I slept so much last night, I figured I could study after you went to sleep.” Josh slapped her bottom and dropped his arms.

  “What about Drew and your group?”

  A twist of Josh’s lips told her all she needed to know. He was peeved about something. “They can fend for themselves.”

  “Uh-oh,” Ellery said, rising and running a hand through Josh’s pretty hair. “What happened?”

  “Nothing you have to worry about. I’m just tired of caring about things more than Drew does. And the others, too. They don’t seem to be as serious as I am.”

  Ellery smiled. “They don’t know how determined you are to reach your goal.”

  He caught her hand and brushed her knuckles with his lips. “I don’t want to talk about it. I want to sit on the couch with my girl and watch something totally stupid and inane.”

  She set aside the knowledge that Josh only wanted to hang with her because he was upset with Drew and the study group and embraced the happiness that he was going to spend several uninterrupted hours with her . . . on the couch . . . snuggling and eating gummy bears. Because that’s how they rolled. “I can make that happen.”

  Josh reached over and grabbed the bag of gummy bears from the snack basket beside the pantry door. “Let’s get to it, and then maybe you can find that bustier and stockings. I’m feeling less stressed tonight.”

  So far her plan was working better than she could have ever expected . . . and all she’d done was put flowers on the table rather than her expectations.

  Yeah, this patience thing totally worked.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Daphne smoothed the shirt she’d finally settled on over her jeans one last time and then fluffed her hair. Her stomach knocked against her spine in a vicious nervousness that she’d only felt a few other times. She was going on a date tonight.

  Her first real date.

  She and Rex had never really dated. They had sat next to each other in geometry, a happenstance that Rex had taken full advantage of by looking at her papers, but they had never gone on a first date. Mostly because kids in school didn’t really date. They hung out and hooked up, but a real ring-the-doorbell date never happened for Daphne.

  Until now.

  “You don’t look like you’re forty,” she said to herself in the mirror. Of course, she wasn’t forty yet. She had a few more weeks in her thirties. Still, she needed to bolster her ego because she felt more like fifty after the last week of sleeplessness and angst.

  Daphne had changed her clothes a dozen times. At first she’d pulled on her favorite black dress and added a cardigan, but that had looked stodgy. She’d shucked that for a fire-engine-red shirt with a plunging neckline and paired it with a short black suede skirt. Knee boots in a matching suede had looked perfect, but then she wondered if it looked like she was trying too hard. Not to mention she didn’t want to exude a vibe that she “put out” on the first date . . . though she had, in fact, weeks ago put out on the first date. If cooking “family” dinner, drinking too much wine, and having sex 2.5 times could be called a date. So she took that off and tossed it atop the growing pile of discarded choices.

  Finally, she’d settled on a pair of tight, distressed-denim jeans rolled to show off cute camel leather booties. She’d added a faded-rose tunic and a fun crushed-velvet scarf that was soft gold. Ellery had helped her pick it out on their last shopping trip. Back when they were speaking to each other.

  Daphne’s heart sank when she thought about her daughter, but she quickly dashed the sadness away. Tonight she wasn’t going to think about the choices she’d made that had led to her being estranged from Ellery. She was going to focus on dinner with a handsome, successful businessman she hadn’t had to swipe right for.

  The doorbell rang, and Jonas did his insane-barking thing.

  Daphne sucked in a breath and left her bedroom, shooing Jonas away from the door. “Get back, Jonas. Back.”

  Then she opened the door to Evan McCallum, who stood looking gorgeous and clutching a bouquet of wildflowers.

  “Darn it, sorry about the dog. He’s a bit protective until he knows you,” Daphne said, frowning as Jonas sniffed Evan’s pants and made little growling noises. “Jonas, here.”

  Her hound slunk to her side.

  Evan smiled. “It’s good he’s protective. I don’t mind the man of the hous
e giving me the business. The dog is a guy, right?” He held out his hand to Jonas and let the dog smell him. One second later, Jonas’s tail wagged, and a second after that he was wriggling against Evan’s legs.

  “He approves, and you now have a friend for life,” Daphne said with a chuckle.

  Evan straightened from petting Jonas and extended the flowers. “I tried to think of something less traditional, but I know my wife always liked getting flowers.”

  He stopped after saying my wife, and his cheeks reddened.

  Daphne took the flowers. “Evan, it’s okay. We both have a past, and you didn’t mess up by mentioning your wife. Come on in. I’ll put these in water and grab my jacket.”

  Evan exhaled. “Whew, I almost blew it. This is the first date I’ve gone on in a while.”

  “You did not blow it, and the nervousness is mutual,” Daphne said, walking toward the kitchen, which was almost finished. Evan’s faux pas had actually helped the butterflies in her stomach to subside. They were both anxious and in uncharted waters. There was comfort in that.

  He followed her to the kitchen, which still had a few unfinished cabinets and a half-completed floor. “Wow, I saw the sign advertising your house for sale. This looks terrific.”

  Daphne went to the storage area off the laundry room and found a crystal vase that had belonged to her mother. “Thank you. Since it’s just Jonas and me, I am moving in town to a smaller house in a gated neighborhood. Time for another family to enjoy this place.”

  “Well, it’s a terrific house.”

  “Thank you,” Daphne said, filling the vase and glancing around the space that looked far too trendy. She preferred the simple kitchen she’d started her married life in, but she would never tell her Realtor that. “It belonged to my grandparents once upon a time. I’ve lived here a long time, and it’s hard to say goodbye, but it doesn’t make sense to stay here by myself.”

  She placed the bouquet in the vase and pulled the flowers apart to form an artful arrangement. Setting them in the middle of the island, she turned to Evan. “Ready?”

  “I’ve been waiting to take you to dinner for a long time,” he said.

  Again, his words were odd. She’d known him for all of a week, but he acted as if they were old friends. Perhaps she could broach it at dinner and find out if they’d met somewhere that she’d forgotten. Daphne fetched the gray cashmere jacket her friend Karyn had sent her for her birthday last year and the small Tory Burch clutch that Ellery had no longer wanted because everyone else had one.

  Fifteen minutes and lots of small talk later, they arrived at Sutton’s Steakhouse. Daphne had eaten there several times and loved the old-school ambience with the honeycomb floors of black and white and the gleaming, dark hardwood and brass. The restaurant had an elegance that wasn’t fussy, and the food matched the vibe by being elegant, substantial, and well portioned. The maître d’ showed them to a cozy leather half-circle booth and delivered the wine list with a flourish.

  Daphne immediately handed the list to Evan. “You’re the expert. Feel free to show off.”

  He flashed her a smile and shook his napkin onto his lap. Cracking his knuckles in exaggerated fashion, he perused the extensive list. “Let’s see what we have here.”

  While Evan debated between a 2015 red blend and a 2016 cabernet, she scanned the room. Full house tonight, but she didn’t see anyone she knew. Which was a relief. Oddly enough, she didn’t feel ready to chat with an acquaintance and have to introduce Evan. It all felt too new.

  Evan ordered the wine and appetizer and then turned to her. “So tell me about your new book.”

  Frankly, no one ever wanted to talk about her writing and illustrating. Oh, they feigned interest, but usually the only people who ever debated plots or illustrations with her were other writers. “Well, I have the Mardi Gras book coming out in January. I’m doing a book tour in a week for my Christmas book. That came out last year, but my publisher set me up on a small regional tour because we’re about to announce the network deal. Book tours are lots of fun because I really get to connect with the kids, but they are tough on my creativity because while I can do some work on the road, most of it is done at home in my studio. I’m more comfortable there.”

  “So do you paint or draw the actual illustration? I mean, like on an easel.”

  “No, I use mostly digital illustration, so it’s like a big, blank page on a giant iPad, if you can imagine that. I still do the drawing, but I can easily manipulate the illustration, changing colors and moving images. It’s really cool.”

  “How did you get into it?” he asked, nodding at the sommelier who arrived and presented the bottle. The man uncorked the bottle, offered the cork, and then poured a small amount in the glass. Evan studied the cork and then accepted the glass. He swirled it, narrowed his eyes, and then lifted it to his nose, breathing deeply. A quick taste, a weird chewing-looking motion, and then a sharp jerk of his head. “That will do fine.”

  Daphne knew she stared, but she found his routine fascinating. “So that’s how it’s done.”

  Evan smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. It’s automatic with me now.”

  She accepted a glass and sipped the full-bodied cabernet. “Nice.”

  “Thanks. Now back to how you got started.”

  “Well, when Ellery was in middle school, I went to a local college for graphic design. Just a community college. I loved to draw as a child, and my art teacher in high school believed in my talent. I took some design classes, some painting classes, and enrolled in an online illustrator program to learn the various mediums. My hope was to parlay my degree into doing some graphic art designs, but I loved writing stories and drawing the illustrations that helped to tell the story. I dreamed up this dog and made little stories for the preschool kids I worked with as a teacher’s aide. I never imagined my hobby of writing silly stories for my kids at work would take me to where I am now. I was truly an overnight success. It was sheer luck, really.”

  “And talent, too?” Evan arched an eyebrow.

  “A bit of that, but mostly luck. I made Dixie Doodle books for my kids for Christmas one year. One of the parents had a family member who works at Little Red Barn books, and she sent it to her. She loved it. Suddenly I went from hobbyist to professional author. It was crazy.”

  Their appetizer arrived, and Evan set an empty plate in front of her. “I hope you like crab. I forgot to ask. See? I’m rusty.”

  “Ditto for me,” she said with a smile. “And I love crab. So tell me more about you. I read about the vineyard and how your father bought the land thinking he’d raise cattle, but tell me about how you got involved with growing grapes.”

  “You already know. I think that was one of the first things we talked about when you told me you liked my wines.”

  Daphne tried not to look confused, but she knew he noticed.

  His whiskey eyes met hers, and she knew that he knew that she had no clue what he was talking about. Evan cut a piece of the crab cake and set it on his plate. “We’ve been emailing each other for several months. I wrote you back at the end of July about speaking at Poppy’s school in March, and we struck up a friendship. Email exchanges five or six times a week. I’m now sensing that you know nothing about this.”

  Daphne grappled with the information he’d imparted. So much now made sense—the flowers, the note, the warmth that first day at the vineyard. “I’m sorry to say that I’ve never seen an email from you, Evan. Ellery has been working as my assistant.”

  He set his fork down, and she could see he was upset. “I wondered why you acted so . . . distant when I was around you. I thought it was because sometimes when you meet someone who you’ve only known online, it’s awkward, but we shared so much about our lives over the past few months. I told you about . . . so much.”

  Daphne took a bigger gulp of her wine and tried to wrap her mind around the fact Ellery had been emailing Evan. Her daughter hadn’t said a thing about a relationship between her and one of Daphne
’s readers. Ellery had never been one for idle chitchat or to hold secrets. If anything, her daughter could be too forthcoming. That she had carried on what sounded like a fairly intimate friendship with another man while pretending to be Daphne was so incredibly odd and very out of character. But then again, Ellery had been doing a lot of things out of character lately.

  And perhaps Daphne was the pot calling the kettle black.

  “I don’t know what to say, Evan. I mean, I thought it was strange how familiar you acted with me last weekend. Like the flowers and the personal note at breakfast. And every time we ran into each other, you were so familiar.”

  Evan shook his head. “I thought maybe you’d changed your mind about liking me, but then when we went for a run, I felt like you were somewhat interested. Then there was the weird email about you not being the person I thought you were. I mean, now I get it, but I’m feeling really embarrassed right now.”

  Daphne covered his hand with hers. His hands were large, warm, and if hands could be sexy and masculine, Evan McCallum could corner the market. “Please don’t. I was interested. I mean, I am interested.” When she realized how her words sounded, she felt a blush climb into her cheeks.

  Evan looked at her. “So I don’t really know you.”

  Daphne drew back her hands. “No, I guess not. I think Ellery’s the person you’ve been emailing.”

  For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. Awkward wasn’t the word for what Daphne felt, and she wished she and Ellery were talking so she could find out why in the hell her daughter had done such a thing without telling her, especially since they went to the man’s vineyard and met him several times. Evan had asked her out, thinking they already had something between them. She’d been flattered that such a good-looking, successful man was interested in her, but now she knew he was interested in Ellery . . . who had been duping him.

  God, what a tangle.

  “Isn’t Ellery engaged?” Evan asked.