Hope Springs on Main Street

by Olivia Miles

  But before she could speak, her mother said, “This is harder on me than I expected, too. It’s… sad to think that your father won’t be here to walk Grace down the aisle. Maybe I’m being silly, but I started wondering, who will I dance with at the reception?”

  Kathleen’s eyes misted over, and all at once Jane was back in mom mode, as Grace playfully called it, checking her feelings, straightening her back, and pulling it together. It was what she did best, after all.

  “Oh, Mom.” Jane sighed. “I’m sorry.” She knew it was no consolation to mention that she’d wondered the same. She obviously didn’t have a date for the wedding, and while maybe Mark or his brother, Brett, would take pity on her and give her a friendly swing around the dance floor, chances were she’d be sitting at the singles table, watching all the fun from a distance.

  Adam was never a good dancer, she reminded herself. Even at their wedding, he didn’t hold her very close, and the few events they’d gone to that had a band, Adam preferred to sit at a table and watch. Why couldn’t he have just spun her around a few times, knowing how much she enjoyed it? You did things like that for people you loved. At least, she did.

  “Please don’t tell Grace I mentioned any of this.” Kathleen’s whisper was urgent, and Jane nodded dutifully. Neither of them should be taking anything away from Grace’s happiness right now, and if that meant dealing with her problems all on her own, then that’s what she would do. It wasn’t like she didn’t have plenty of practice.

  She heaved a sigh. If she didn’t tell her mother the partial truth soon, it would come from someone else. “You should know that Adam is getting remarried.” She thinned her mouth, waiting for it.

  Her mother’s expression turned horror-stricken. Her wide eyes didn’t blink for several seconds.

  “And, he’s having a baby.”

  There. It was out. She exhaled through her nose, bracing for a reaction.

  “You don’t seem very shaken up about this,” Kathleen remarked.

  Jane clenched her fist inside her coat pocket. “Nope. Why should I be?” She gritted her teeth into a casual smile. “We all know I’m better off without him.”

  “That’s my girl,” her mother said, patting her arm. “You’ll find someone else. You’re young, and pretty and—” Kathleen frowned and peered over Jane’s shoulder. “Is that—”

  Jane followed her mother’s gaze across the street. Her eyes snapped open as her heart began to pound, the dread she’d felt now replaced with an emotion just as powerful. God help her, it was lust. She turned back to her mother, hoping the heat would fade from her cheeks before Kathleen noticed, but her mother was still focused on Henry. Jane wished she’d swiped on some lipstick or something. Her mascara had probably been cried off. Please don’t let her call out to him!

  “I didn’t know Henry Birch was in town,” Kathleen mused. A slow smile curved her mouth. Catching herself, her eyes darted to Jane’s.

  Jane drew a breath as Henry crossed the street. Oh, no. He really was coming over here, and here she was, downright giddy over… her ex-husband’s best friend! What was wrong with her? “I’ve seen him a few times.” What was once more?

  “He was always a nice boy,” Kathleen said. “What he ever saw in Adam, I’ll never know…” A guilty flush heated her cheeks. “Sorry, Jane.”

  “No apology needed,” she replied. She wondered the same thing herself most days. Henry and Adam were a mismatch, but then, couldn’t the same be said for herself and her ex-husband?

  She eyed Henry as he reached the curb, quickly closing the distance between them with his long, confident stride. A grin stretched across his handsome face, crinkling those blue eyes that seemed to pull her into a trance. She shook it off, dropping her gaze to the ground, away from that casual smile and the magnetic effect he had on her. She had a million reasons for not indulging in the skip of her heartbeat every time he came near, but this morning’s conversation with her attorney trumped them all.

  Adam was lining up his army, preparing for battle. And Henry, being Adam’s oldest friend, was someone she’d be best to keep her distance from for now.

  Henry felt the smile slip from his face as he approached the Madisons just outside Rosemary and Thyme. Kathleen, with her kind eyes and warm smile, waved heartily as he neared, but Jane seemed to stiffen instead of returning his grin.

  Determined not to dwell on the matter, Henry greeted her mother with a brief hug, stepped back, and shoved his hands into his pockets. “It’s good to see you Mrs. Madison. I’m sorry to hear about your husband.” He knew through Ivy that Ray Madison had died about eighteen months ago—it couldn’t have been easy on any of them. He glanced over at Jane. Especially Jane.

  He alone knew the torment she felt over choosing to give up that dance scholarship, the fear she had that she’d somehow let her father down.

  “Thank you.” Kathleen squeezed his hand once before releasing it. “Well, I have an appointment I’m already late for. Henry, are you in town for long?”

  Only as long as I have to be.

  He shrugged. “Can’t say. I’m helping my sister fix up our old house. We’re hoping to sell it soon.”

  A knowing expression seemed to cloud Kathleen’s expression. “Well, then I’m sure we’ll see each other again before you leave. Briar Creek is small that way.”

  Like he needed to be reminded, he thought grimly.

  “I’d like that,” he told her, and he meant it. The Madisons had been good to his sister, like family to her, really, and for that, he was eternally grateful. The same way he’d always be grateful to the Browns.

  He inhaled sharply and turned to Jane, who watched quietly as her mother disappeared down the sidewalk. He shoved his hands in his pockets and rolled back on his heels. He should go, leave Jane be—to heal, to move on and find a guy. The right guy. But for some reason he couldn’t. “Ivy said she had dinner with you last night. I was sort of disappointed to miss it.”

  Her eyes widened slightly. “Oh, well… That would have been… nice.” Her gaze darted the second it met his. “I should probably get going, too. I have some stuff to sort out before—”

  “I was hoping I’d run into you today, actually,” he said, blocking her path before she had a chance to get away. He scanned her face, noticing the flatness in her eyes, the paleness in her usually rosy skin, and he frowned with sudden concern. Something was wrong, and he was guessing it had nothing to do with his meet-up with Adam the other night.

  Divorce was difficult. He knew it firsthand—the sense of loss, of failure. Of hopelessness, at times. For months after he and Caroline separated, he replayed their relationship, trying to pinpoint the exact moment when it all went off path and things fell apart. He told himself he liked his independence, started taking more assignments—longer assignments—to push away the aimlessness that seemed to make his mind spin. Was it doomed before they even walked down the aisle? Probably, he told himself. Caroline, like most women he’d met since her, seemed to want something from him he couldn’t give. Not to her. Not to anyone.

  They wanted a family man. And what did Henry know about that? He’d tried his best, but it didn’t come naturally. Caroline had told him he hadn’t given her a full chance—them a full chance. Maybe she was right. Maybe the person he’d let down more than her was himself.

  He cleared his throat. “I’ve decided to take your suggestion. I’m writing a piece on Briar Creek.”

  Her eyes sparked with interest. “Really? That’s wonderful!” She tipped her head. “What made you change your mind?”

  “I figured I could help Ivy, plug her flower shop,” he said. He glanced down Main Street, where orange leaves danced on store awnings, rustling in the breeze. “I thought I’d start with the festival this weekend.”

  “Sophie and I will be there,” Jane offered, and then blinked rapidly. Tears welled in her eyes, and she ran a hand over her mouth, waving him back when he stepped toward her. “Sorry. I don’t know what’s come over
me. I’m… fine. Really.”

  “No, you’re not fine,” he said, scowling. A rush of adrenaline heated his blood, and he pulled a fist at his side, wanting to undo whatever was causing her so much distress. “What is it, Jane?”

  “I can’t talk about this with you,” she whispered, confirming what he already knew.

  “It’s something to do with Adam.”

  She hesitated. “It’s… Sophie. He’s… he’s leaving Vermont and he wants to take Sophie with him.”

  Henry dragged a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath. He should have known something more was going on. There was shiftiness in Adam’s eyes Saturday night that wasn’t typical for small talk, or a person with nothing to hide. “I was afraid of something like this.”

  Jane’s eyes turned sharp. “What?”

  “When I met up with Adam, he mentioned he might be moving.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?” Jane stared at him, her eyes so full of hurt and confusion that he couldn’t form an explanation fast enough. All he wanted to do was take the pain out of her eyes, out of her life. She brought a shaking hand to her forehead and shook her head. “Of course you didn’t. You’re Adam’s friend.”

  “I’m your friend, too,” Henry insisted, but he stopped right there when he saw the look in her face.

  “No. You’re obviously not.”

  Is that really what she thought? “He asked me not to say anything—”

  She was backing up, shaking her head, and her entire body seemed to be shaking. “And so of course you didn’t. It’s my daughter, Henry. My daughter. She’s all I have.”

  “I didn’t know what he meant, Jane—” Henry took a step toward her, but she held up her hands. “Jane, I wasn’t getting involved.”

  “Do me a favor, then. Keep it that way.” She turned and ran down the street, her long brown hair swinging behind her. He watched her go, feeling the weight in his chest grow heavier with each step she took.

  She had it all wrong.

  His loyalty might have seemed like it was with Adam all those years ago, but his heart had always been with her.

  CHAPTER

  11

  The only thing Jane could be grateful for in this moment was that Sophie was spending the night with her father, the rat bastard. She snorted at the bitter irony, and then plucked another tissue from the box. The last, she noted, swiping at her face and then crumbling it into her hand. And she’d promised herself that one box of tissues was all she’d allow. She certainly wasn’t going to keep custody of her child by falling apart, was she?

  Jane stood and tossed the box into the recycling bin, on top of an empty oatmeal container. It seemed that ensuring Sophie had three balanced meals a day, a bath, freshly laundered clothes, and a bedtime story wasn’t enough to make her a fit mother. Another sob burst out when she pictured Kristy waving Sophie off to school each morning… in Denver!

  She took the magnetic notepad she kept for grocery lists off the fridge and pulled out a chair from the kitchen table. Grace had always laughed at this habit, but Anna had secretly supported Jane’s need for her organizational skills. Maybe it was silly, admittedly, to jot down things on her to-do list that she had already accomplished that day, like making a bed or getting the dishwasher loaded, just for the sheer sense of validation that came when she then crossed them off seconds later, but it was nice to have credit for something once in a while, and being a housewife had more often than not felt like a thankless job. She had lost count of the number of dinners she cooked that Adam hadn’t come home to eat. Though she religiously changed the sheets on the bed once a week, her husband could go for months without noticing, especially since he was sleeping on the couch by the end of things, claiming he’d nodded off watching television.

  She should have known then that something was up, that he was pulling back. Instead, she’d trusted him. Too much. She wouldn’t be making that mistake again.

  Jane sighed and clicked the top of her pen. Her lawyer had told her that as the primary caregiver, she had a strong case, and she should focus on proving that she provided a stable home. Emotional stability was easy, but financial… that would be difficult, and the attorney fees certainly weren’t helping.

  She put a check mark next to emotional stability and then started on the more distressing points. Four dance classes totaled… She scowled at the sum. Not enough. Ten classes was a solid part-time income, but four made it look like a glorified hobby. If things didn’t change quickly at the studio, she’d have no choice but to take full-time employment elsewhere. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d had to give up her dancing for Adam.

  She moved on to the next point on her list: Main Street Books. She manned the counter at the cafe three days a week, surely that counted for something, it being a family business and all. Grace had made sure to include her on a small business health insurance plan, and Sophie was covered by Adam’s. That part wouldn’t be an issue. What would be tricky, though, was proving that Sophie’s life would be better here than it would be with her father and new sibling. Adam could provide the ice skating lessons Sophie longed for, not to mention dance, music, and no doubt annual vacations, not that he’d been inclined to take them when they were married, she now thought, narrowing her eyes. On paper, Adam had it all. A happy family unit of four versus a struggling single mother. She didn’t care what the lawyer said about her having been the primary caregiver up until now. The nagging thought wouldn’t go away: She didn’t stand a chance.

  She knew she could always pack her bags and move to Colorado, too, but why should she have to? Hadn’t she given up enough already? Adam was the one moving, and he had Kristy and a new baby on the way. Her entire family was here, as was his.

  How could Adam take Sophie from her grandparents and aunts?

  Anger boiled in her blood, quickly replacing the self-pitying tears.

  “No,” she said aloud, crumbling the list in her hands. No way would she let him take her daughter, her dancing, or her home from her.

  She poised her pen over the top line of a fresh sheet of paper and began running through the places in town she might find employment. By the time she had reached the end, her fingers had stopped shaking and she felt like she might almost be able to get through the night without waking up.

  Ivy was always saying how busy she was, especially lately. She’d start with Petals on Main.

  Henry pushed through the door of the local diner and made his way up to the counter. He’d avoided Hastings since returning, but he couldn’t bear one more morning of Mrs. Griffin’s runny eggs, or the way she insisted on pulling up a chair and chatting with him all through breakfast, no doubt curious about his time here and his reasons for staying away. The Main Street B&B, despite its comfortable accommodations, would never suit his needs. What he needed was a place to go where no one knew him and no one bothered him. A place like his condo in San Francisco.

  He’d get there soon. But not soon enough.

  Henry turned over his mug, and a young woman filled it while he skimmed his options. Same as he remembered. Not that he was surprised. The place was an institution, and from the looks of the crowd, it was a second home to many of Briar Creek’s older citizens.

  “Henry Birch, isn’t it?”

  Henry set his menu down and glanced at the man on his left, who was studying him with interest. His gray eyes were clear, his smile more of a smirk. Henry searched his face for recognition and came up empty.

  “Yes. Do we… did we know each other?” He grinned apologetically. “Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve been back in town.”

  “I knew your mother,” the older man said with a bit of a smirk.

  Henry felt his smile freeze. He ground on his teeth, giving the man a hard stare. “I see.” He turned back to the counter, hoping to catch the waitress’s attention. He’d leave right now if he wasn’t so hungry; his only other option was a muffin at the Annex, and he wasn’t sure he should get too attached to that place…
or the sight of Jane behind the counter.

  “I’ll have a Western omelet,” he told the waitress, and closed his menu shut.

  He took a sip of his coffee and stared at the wall. He’d hoped that by keeping his back to the room he’d go unnoticed. So much for that.

  “Yeah, good ol’ Debbie. She sure was fun.”

  “Yeah, well, all that fun caught up with her,” Henry ground out. His jaw tensed even more. He took another sip of his coffee and pulled out the complimentary newspaper Mrs. Griffin had personally slid under his door that morning.

  Eventually the man left, and Henry dared to glance over his shoulder. A group of middle-aged women were sitting at the table closest to him, watching closely. “Debbie’s son,” one whispered, after he’d turned back to his paper. Another clucked her tongue.

  Hastings, Briar Creek’s requisite small-town greasy spoon, serves up standard diner fare with a sprinkle of gossip and a dash of speculation. Plan your reading material ahead and nab a seat at the counter, unless having your life story judged over a stack of pancakes is high on your travel wish list.

  Henry rubbed a hand over his jaw. He supposed he’d have to change his attitude—and fast—if he expected to sell this town with any conviction. He took a sip of his coffee, finding it better than expected. Well, there was one thing he could mention in the article. Now, if he could just find a few more…

  “Henry Birch!” Mark Hastings boomed through the door, his grin wide as he took long strides to the counter and slapped a heavy hand onto Henry’s back. “Long time, no see around these parts!”

  Not long enough, Henry thought ruefully, but he matched Mark’s enthusiasm. They’d been casual friends growing up, and Mark just had a way of putting those around him in a good mood.

  “Eh, thought it was about time.” Henry motioned to the empty stool beside him, and Mark slid in.