by Olivia Miles
Swinging open the gate, he jogged up the salt-covered steps to the large front door and rang the bell, wondering, as he waited, if Dana had shoveled the path herself, or if there was someone else in the picture, someone neither she, nor Violet, had mentioned. Jealousy hit him hard. He’d never get used to not seeing his daughter every day. It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this.
“Daddy!”
Ben felt his chest swell as his little girl ran down the long hallway toward him, arms spread wide, her long, dark hair bouncing against her back. He crouched down to greet her, feeling the thud of her body as she hit his chest and her arms flung around his neck. He scooped her up, twirled her once around in the air and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “How’s my girl today?”
“I’m good, but Daddy, guess what?”
Ben gently set her on the floor and stared into her big, earnest eyes that were the exact shade of blue as his own. “What?”
“Billy B. got in trouble today. Again.” She pinched her little lips together and folded her arms across her chest.
Ben knew all about Billy B., not to be mistaken with Billy P. who was one of the nicer boys in Violet’s kindergarten class, at least according to Violet. “Uh-oh. What did he do?”
Violet put her pointer finger to her lip and tipped her head in thought. Seconds ticked by until she finally announced, “I forget!” and bounded off toward the kitchen.
Ben sighed. No doubt Dana was back there, preparing dinner or cleaning up. Dread filled him as he walked to the back of the house, passing the formal living and dining rooms on his left. He rarely came in here anymore; usually Violet was picked up and dropped off outside of the house. It was easier this way, for both of them. After all, the house wasn’t his anymore; it had gone to Dana in the divorce. But still, as he passed the rooms he couldn’t help but skirt his gaze to notice if much had changed.
It felt oddly the same. He wasn’t so sure if that was a good thing or not.
At the back of the house, the hall ended in a big, gourmet kitchen that opened onto the informal family room. Cartoons were playing on the television mounted above the fireplace, and sure enough, Dana was sitting at the granite-topped island.
Ben frowned and stopped a healthy distance from her. She was still pretty, objectively speaking, but his feelings for her had faded with time. Now when he looked at her, he saw two things: the mother of his child, and the woman who had thrown away the best chance at happiness any of them had ever had.
He resisted the urge to fold his arms across his chest. “You said this was too important to discuss on the phone. What’s up?”
Dana shifted her eyes to the family room, where Violet was curled up on the sectional sofa, clutching her favorite stuffed bunny, engrossed in the children’s program.
“It’s my job,” Dana said in a low voice.
Ben stifled a sigh. “Of course. Your all important job.”
“I don’t expect you to understand,” she replied crisply.
“Then we’re in agreement there.” Ben fought back his temper. He and Dana would never agree on most things, her job prioritization being one of them. He loved that she was smart, cool headed, and ambitious. What he didn’t love was the way she constantly put her public relations career before anything—and anyone—else. “What is it now? A change in schedule? Something with the nanny? If you need me to start picking Violet up from school, that’s not an issue.”
His job was more flexible, thanks to the family business. She knew it. She’d taken advantage of it, too.
“It’s a transfer actually,” Dana said after a pause.
Ben felt the blood drain from his face. He stared at Dana, waited for his pulse to resume a somewhat normal speed, and finally repeated, “A transfer.”
“It’s more of an assignment, really. Long term. They need me to take over the London office, until they find a suitable replacement. You remember Alan? Well, he left, and . . .” She caught his eye. “Anyway, they need me there.”
Just like they’d needed her in the Los Angeles office once. “For how long?”
“I don’t know. It could be a month. It could be six.”
More like six if history proved anything. Or, maybe they’d decide to keep her on. He wouldn’t be surprised. Ben was nodding, trying to digest this, but his throat felt like it was closing up. He ran a hand through his hair in agitation. It was still wet from the melting snow. “And Violet?” he asked sharply.
“That’s why I needed to see you tonight. They need me right away, and seeing as I don’t know how long I’ll be there, I think it’s best that Violet stays with you, at least until everything is settled.”
Ben didn’t blink for several seconds. He was shaking, he realized. With relief, and with fresh anger so deep he wasn’t sure he could control it. Everything would be settled, all right, and for good this time. Violet needed a stable, secure home, and he was going to be the one to give it to her.
He glanced to the family room, where Violet was giggling at the show. He would control his feelings right now. For her sake. All of it was for her.
“So you’re just going to fly across to London and leave Violet behind?” He gave a brittle laugh, shaking his head. He didn’t know why it surprised him. After all, she’d been gone for six months when Violet was only a year old, returning only for the odd weekend. And again when she turned two.
“My job is important to me,” she said tightly.
“When do you leave?” he asked.
“Tomorrow afternoon.” Her eyes never strayed from his, but he thought he detected a hint of regret in her gaze.
“Does Violet know yet?” he asked.
Dana shook her head. “Not yet. I thought we could tell her together. It might make it easier.”
“For who? You?” Ben cursed under his breath. It was always this game between them. Dana was good cop, he was bad cop. He was tired of cleaning up her mess. “Fine,” he ground out. “But only for Violet. I want her to know she’s safe. Secure.” That I won’t be running off on her, too, he thought. “Maybe it would be easier for her if I moved back in while you’re away.”
Dana bit her lip. “About that. Given the uncertainty, I’ve decided to put the house on the market.”
Ben felt his jaw slack. “You what?”
“I’ve been thinking about it anyway,” Dana said, crossing her arms defensively across her chest. “It’s a big house. Too big for two people.”
She was right about that. It was built for a family. And they were hardly a family anymore, were they?
He looked around the room, at the white cabinets they’d selected together, the arched window above the sink where they could watch Violet play on her swing set.
“I’m sorry, Ben,” Dana said. “I know how much this house meant to you.”
He nodded curtly. “It did mean a lot.” But not for the reasons she thought. Sure, he’d overseen the plan, Sullivan Construction had done the labor, but the real reason he’d loved this house was because of what it represented. He closed his eyes for a moment. “It’s probably time to let it go.”
Dana motioned to Violet with her eyes. “So do you think we should tell her?”
“Now’s as good a time as any,” Ben said, hating the heaviness that had settled over his chest. For the second time in two years they were going to sit down together and break their little girl’s heart. And for the second time, it wasn’t of his choosing.
But this would be the last time, he vowed to himself. So help him, from here on out he would make sure that his daughter’s life was stable and secure and that no one would come along and turn their worlds upside down again.
Chapter Three
At three o’clock sharp the next afternoon, Ben stood outside the brick building where Violet attended kindergarten. He’d rescheduled his meetings and taken the day off from work, using it instead to move as much of Violet’s belongings as she might need into her smaller bedroom in his apartment. When he’d told Dana his lawyer would be i
n touch with hers to formally revisit their custody agreement, all she had done was nod. There was no use in fighting it, he supposed. She’d made her decision, weighed it, and understood the consequences. But had she taken Violet’s feelings into account at all? He wanted to think so, but he was too angry to think clearly.
Realizing he was gritting his teeth, Ben tried to loosen his jaw before the bell rang and the kids poured from the front door of the school. He didn’t want Violet to see him agitated or upset. He wanted her to think that all of this was somehow okay. Even though it wasn’t.
He spotted her the moment the doors opened, her little red coat buttoned up to the neck, her ponytail coming undone, her eyes darting back and forth over the crowd of parents gathered outside the gate.
He hated to think that she was looking for a person who wasn’t there, and wouldn’t be again for a long time, if his hunch was correct. He plastered a smile on his face, and waved until he caught her attention, but her smile dropped as she approached him. “Fran usually picks me up,” she informed him as a little line appeared between her eyebrows.
Ben didn’t have the heart to tell her that her nanny was going to be working with another family now, and that she’d be going to the school’s aftercare program starting next week instead. According to Dana, Fran was in great demand, and Fran didn’t like the idea of hanging out in a bachelor pad all day.
“I thought it might be fun to spend some special time together this afternoon. Just you and me, what do you say?”
Violet considered this. “But it’s not Wednesday.”
Or every other Saturday, he thought, feeling the frustration mount in his chest. That’s what his role as a parent had been limited to. Well, not anymore. He wasn’t the one bailing, skipping town, flying off across the world when opportunity struck. He was here. Then. Now. Always.
“Nope,” he said, taking her by the hand and leading her to the car, careful to sidestep the icy puddles of slush. “That’s what makes it special.”
“But what about Mommy?” Violet asked, her voice pitching, a sign that she was on the brink of tears.
Ben stopped walking. He squeezed his free hand into a fist. He should have known the conversation last night wouldn’t be the end of it. The tears she’d shed over the news had nearly torn his heart out, and he couldn’t even look at Dana while they discussed the new arrangement with their daughter. In the end, they’d painted a brighter picture than it was, hoping they could live up to the rosy image.
“Remember, honey, Mommy had to take a business trip.”
Violet’s lower lip began to tremble. Ben bit back a sigh and crouched to wrap his arms around his child. She still seemed so small, and even though she loved to brag that she was a big girl, in kindergarten now, he couldn’t resist. He picked her up, holding her close against his chest until her tears had turned to sniffles, and carried her on his hip the entire two blocks back to the car, remembering why he hated driving in the city.
Once they had climbed over the snowbanks and were settled in the car, he turned on the radio, even let Violet choose the song. He thought they were over the hump until Violet informed him they were going the wrong way.
“You’re coming back to the apartment,” he said lightly. He eyed her in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were still watery, and he could tell by the pinch of her brow that she was on the verge of tears again.
“But my toys! I need my bunny!”
Ben was overjoyed to be presented with a problem he could actually solve. “But I have your bunny! She’s at home, on your bed, waiting for you.”
There was a pause as this sunk in. “But what about my clothes? And my hair bows?”
“All at the apartment,” he said with forced cheer.
“But . . . what about my furniture?”
Ben blew out a sigh. “That’s at the other house, Violet. Remember you have a bed and dresser at the apartment. And the pretty purple bedspread you chose?”
Violet grumbled something and leaned her head back against her car seat. She didn’t say anything more until they pulled up in front of the building.
“Would you look at that?” Ben exclaimed. “A spot right in front. Must be our lucky day.” He turned to catch Violet’s eye but she just stared listlessly out the window.
Clenching his jaw, Ben pushed open his door and went around the car to help Violet undo her buckle. “Hey, I have an idea. We can have a pizza party tonight. How does that sound?”
He waited for the entire walk to the door for Violet to reply, but she didn’t. Slowly, they trudged up the stairs. The building was quiet. No sounds came from the unit across the hall. Ben thought of the package Mary had given him and felt his spirits lift. He’d been saving it for Violet’s birthday, but maybe he’d give it to her early as a little surprise.
His hand suddenly stilled with realization. Violet’s birthday. It was only a week and a half away and her mother wouldn’t be here to spend it with her. He frowned, looking down at the quiet little girl.
“So what do you say?” he asked again, as he took her small owl-shaped backpack and hooked it on the doorknob. “Should we order a pizza later? I’ll even swing for extra cheese.”
But Violet just walked past him and into the small room he’d made up for her when Dana had turned their lives upside down for the first time.
Ben stared at the hallway, racking his mind for what to do, how to make this better. But there was nothing he could do, he knew. Other than wait. And hope.
***
When things got rough, there was only one thing to do, and that was to take action! Mary had never been one to sit back and do nothing, to let the fates decide her future, to roll along with the punches. Nope, if she’d done that, then Sunshine Creamery would have never reopened again, and she would have still been working in that boring doctor’s office, answering phones, and dodging little winks and glances from her middle-aged boss on his way to the water fountain.
So, yes, today had been a bad day. A very bad day indeed. Nearly as bad as yesterday. But she needed to look at the bright side. Yes, she had a busted pipe, and yes, every single plumber that had stopped by had discovered even bigger problems as they investigated her situation, and yes, it would seem that things weren’t exactly up to “code” and that she might have known this had she done a full renovation of the shop instead of a cosmetic face-lift, and that yes, this was all going to cost a small fortune. Far more than she could afford. But the bright side was that, for now, the water was back on at least. Even if she had just all but maxed out her credit card in the process. And even if it did seem that more problems were imminent.
Mary sunk her face into her hands and closed her eyes, indulging in a brief, but deep, moment of what she might describe as extreme self-pity, and then just as quickly, fluffed her hair and squared her shoulders.
She had learned over time that the best way to handle overwhelming problems like this was to break them down into palatable, bite-sized chunks. The first chunk: not enough money. How to solve that? Earn more, of course! And since it didn’t seem like anyone wanted to buy her ice cream these days, she could only hope they might want to buy some of the old, well, treasures, she had stored up in this apartment.
Mary held out her sign and smiled at it with satisfaction. Yes, a building yard sale would be just the trick. If they all pulled together, they could attract quite a crowd, and if she sold enough, then she’d at least be able to cover the cost of the latest repairs. The rest, she hoped, could be put off until after the weather turned warmer and her business traffic picked up.
Mary pushed back her kitchen chair and grabbed her roll of tape from the top drawer. The needling thought that a yard sale in the snow might not exactly yield the kind of results she wanted continued to worry her, but then she thought, maybe someone had a heat lamp. Or they could put out some fire pits, maybe even sell some s’mores. Yes, s’mores. Now that would get people curious for sure!
Feeling better, Mary opened her front door, h
er shoulders squared with determination, and came face to face with none other than Ben. Handsome, scowling Ben.
“Oh,” she said, a little surprised. “Hello.”
Ben shifted his dark blue eyes to the right, as if contemplating darting back behind his door. “Hey,” he muttered, running a hand through his dark brown hair in obvious agitation.
Mary pressed her lips together. So he was back to wanting to ignore her. She could play that game, if he was so insistent. Still, it seemed rude to just walk past him, like they hadn’t chatted last night, like he didn’t live right across the hall, with some woman named Violet . . .
Right. No use lingering on that chiseled jaw and that deep-set gaze a second longer. So one of the best-looking men she’d come across in a while happened to live right across the hall. The man was taken. And he was also, from what she could tell, a complete jerk.
And hadn’t she had enough of those? She could almost see Jason’s eye roll now. If he wasn’t supportive back when Sunshine Creamery was doing well, she could only imagine what he’d have to say now.
Doubt caused her to worry her lip. Maybe he had been on to something. Maybe he’d been right. Maybe she’d been a fool to think she could turn the family business around. Maybe if she’d still been answering phones at the doctor’s office, Jason wouldn’t have dumped her. Via text.
Mary gripped her roll of tape a little tighter in her hand, and moved toward the stairs at the same moment at Ben. “Oh,” she said, startling.
“Sorry.” Ben frowned, and stepped back just when she did.
Mary’s arm brushed his, and she quickly moved to the left, but again, there he was, and she laughed under her breath as his tall, hard body skimmed hers. He was wearing cologne, or maybe it was just soap—a faint, musky, manly scent. She hadn’t realized just how tall he was before. At least six feet, and broad in the shoulders. Her eyes drifted over the curve of his biceps under his rugby shirt, until she felt the heat of his stare on hers. He didn’t look amused. She laughed again, and stepped back properly this time. “Go ahead.”