“He won’t go for that,” she says.
“Let me handle it.”
“He’ll go crazy.”
“I know,” I say. “But I’ll take the heat for you.”
“Thank you,” she says.
I give her another squeeze, knowing I need to ask her some tough questions. I’m not sure it’s my place, but she might feel more comfortable being honest with me than her dad. “Did you take any drugs or were you drinking?”
“I had a few drinks,” she says softly.
“Are you hurt?” I ask.
Her head shakes. I take one deep breath and close my eyes. “Did anyone force you to do anything?”
“No,” she whispers. “I can make bad decisions all on my own.”
“Hey,” I say, looking into her eyes. “You’re a good girl. No matter what happened tonight. That doesn’t change that you are a good person. It doesn’t change that I love you. Your dad loves you. Nothing changes that.”
She gives me an unconvincing nod. “Would you mind if I shower? I walked like fifteen miles to get here.”
That’s really far, but I manage to hold my surprise. I know she’s not telling me something, and I also know that I can’t force it out of her. Teenage girls are very good at keeping their secrets. “Mia?”
She looks away from me. “There’s this guy.”
I knew it.
“He’s older.”
“How old?”
“Twenty,” she says. “I knew he was interested, but I didn’t want to get involved before I left for school. After I left Mom, I called him and had him come pick me up. He lives with like four other guys, and they were having a party. He turned out to be a jerk. I ended up having to walk back home.”
There seems to be a big chunk of her story missing. Jerk to walking home—something in the middle. “A jerk how?” I ask.
“He was only interested in partying. When I wanted to leave, he wouldn’t bring me home because he was having a good time. Dad always told me to have my own money, but I didn’t tonight. The guy wouldn’t even get me a cab, so I walked,” she says. “I just feel stupid for going there. I was mad at Dad and just wanted to blow off some steam.”
“Why didn’t you call someone for a ride? Me? Penny?” I ask.
“I was embarrassed,” she says. “I just needed to think. By the time I thought to call, my phone had died.”
“I’m not going to give you some big lecture,” I say. “I’ll leave that to Garrett.”
A small smile on her face, she nods and thanks me.
“Go shower, and I’ll call your dad.” I walk her to my bathroom, making sure she’s got fresh towels and knows where everything is. I give her one of my oversized t-shirts to sleep in and promise to make her something to eat. When she’s all set, I grab my phone.
Blowing out a breath, I dial. One ring, two rings, then I hear his voice, the worried tone, the exhaustion. I won’t make him wait one second longer to know his daughter is alright. “Mia’s here,” I say. “She showed up at my house a few minutes ago. She’s alright.”
“Thank God,” he says. “I’m on my way.”
“She’s upset and exhausted. Why don’t you let her get some sleep and see her in the morning?”
“I’m seeing her right now.”
“Garrett, she doesn’t want to see you.”
“Did you tell her that I didn’t know about the no-contact clause?”
“Yes, I told her,” I say. “She’s had a rough night. She wants a few hours of peace and rest before facing you.”
“Tough,” he says. “I’ll be there in five.”
The phone goes dead. I give an exasperated grunt into my phone. I miss the days when you could slam a receiver down. That was always good for dramatic effect. Cell phones cost way too much money to do that, and I doubt slamming your phone because you’re pissed off is covered under the protection plan.
Appealing to his rational side didn’t work. I step out on my porch, knowing I’ve only got a couple minutes. I try to think of what to say to him, but I’ve got nothing. Nothing that’s going to make him feel better.
I make one quick phone call to Trudy to let her know Mia is safe, knowing she’ll make sure everyone else knows. Then I wait for Garrett. It’s got to be almost two in the morning by now, but the air is still thick with humidity, making my skin feel sticky, like I need to shower again. The light of the full moon shines down on the street. The dark outline of his body comes into view, and even his silhouette looks tense.
“Where is she?” he calls out as soon as my property comes into sight.
“Inside taking a shower,” I say.
He bounds up the front steps, reaching around me for the doorknob. “Garrett?”
“You don’t want to get in the middle of me and my daughter,” he threatens.
“She came to me. Of all the places she could go, she came here,” I say. “Think about that. Do you want to get in the middle of that?”
His blue eyes glance at me. We both know he could go around me. I couldn’t stop him. The only things I have on my side are words and his love for Mia. “Where was she?”
“I think she should tell you.”
“I have to see her,” he says.
“She didn’t even want me to call you,” I say. “When I told her I had to, she tried to bolt again. The past few days have been a lot on her. She needs a good night’s sleep, a hot meal, a place where she doesn’t feel torn between you and Sheena.”
“I’m not leaving until I see her.”
I’m not going to fight with him, even though he looks like he’s gearing up for one, his muscles hard, his jaw set. I know Garrett. When he digs his heels in, he’s as stubborn as they come. He makes a mule look like a laidback puppy dog.
“I’ll sleep on your damn front porch if I have to.”
There’s not a doubt in my mind that’s true.
“Garrett,” I say tenderly, wrapping my arms around his neck. He squeezes me hard, his head buried in my hair. I feel all his worry and fear and know he won’t feel better until he sees her. “She’s okay,” I whisper.
His head nods, his arms getting tighter around me. We stand there for what seems like forever, just holding each other on my porch under the watchful eye of the man on the moon. It must’ve been long enough that Mia changed her mind about seeing Garrett, or she wondered what the heck we were doing out here. I hear the click of the knob behind me, and Garrett releases me.
Mia cracks open the door, wearing my t-shirt, a towel wrapped around her head. She doesn’t look either one of us in the eye. Garrett engulfs her in his arms and says, “You scared the shit out of me.”
“I’m sorry,” she says softly.
He pulls back, his hands on her tiny shoulders. “Where the hell have you been?”
Her eyes find mine, begging for help. “You both look exhausted,” I say.
Garrett looks down at Mia. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out she needs some rest, and Garrett is very predictable when it comes to Mia. He always does what’s best for her. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s get you home.”
Those begging brown eyes of hers find me again, tugging at my heart. She doesn’t need the third degree from her father right now, and if they go home, there’s a big chance of that happening, because he’s been so frantic with worry. The past few days have been hard on him, too, even if he doesn’t say it. I know.
“She’s all ready for bed,” I say. “Why don’t you let her stay?” I can see the no forming in his mind, all the reasons they should go. “Why don’t you stay, too?” The shock on his face is priceless. “I know you want to be close to her tonight. You should both stay.”
Mia yawns a little, and that seals the deal. We all make our way inside. I get Mia something to eat and set her up in my spare bedroom under Garrett’s watchful eye. To his credit, he doesn’t push her for answers. The relief that she’s alright is enough for the moment. He stays in the doorway until she falls asleep,
which doesn’t take more than a minute.
Grabbing a pillow and blanket, I make up the sofa for him. As much as I wish he could be in my bed, I know that’s not going to happen. I feel him staring at me. “It’s like we had our first fight, and you’ve been relegated to the sofa.”
“Why do the guys always get kicked to the sofa?”
“You don’t want to sleep with an angry woman,” I say. “It’s for your own safety. Remember Lorena Bobbitt?”
He walks past me, grazing my hand and taking a seat on the sofa. “Thanks for being there for her.”
“I love her like she’s mine.”
He reaches out to me, wrapping his arms around my waist and burying his head in my stomach. “I wish she was yours,” he says.
“But she’s not,” I say, pulling back. “She’s Sheena’s.”
“You’ve been more of a mother to Mia than Sheena. Tonight proves that—again. The fact that Mia chose to come here.”
“But I don’t get credit,” I say. “Sheena gave birth to her, so that trumps all the movie nights, hair braids, breakfasts.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he says.
“Why do I feel a but coming?” I ask.
“The only butt I want is yours and the coming part better happen soon,” he says with that smirk that I fall for every time.
“Go to sleep,” I say, tossing a pillow at him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
DEVLYN
Garrett, Mia, and I are all asleep under the same roof. Go figure. Granted, Garrett is on the sofa, and Mia still has no idea her dad and I are an item. Still, it’s surreal to have them both here, to hear both of them breathing softly, at peace.
I peek in to check on Mia before heading off to the diner. I didn’t get more than a few hours of sleep. She’s still out like a light.
Next, I check on Garrett. His feet are hanging over the edge of my sofa. One arm is hanging off the side, the other is thrown over his head. All the pillows and cushions have been flung about. The man is well over six feet tall. He wasn’t made for my girly little sofa. Still, he’s completely out. I blow a kiss at him, not about to risk waking him with a real one, then as quietly as I can, grab my stuff and head to the diner.
I’m used to being the first one up in Eden Valley. It’s me and the birds. I usually don’t see a soul, which is how I know that Sheena walking past my shop isn’t a coincidence. No one gets up at this hour unless they have to.
I know Garrett talked to her after Mia showed up, but I don’t know what he actually said to her. From the looks of things, she isn’t happy that neither her daughter nor her ex came home last night.
“I was hoping you could give me an update,” she says.
“Mia and Garrett are both still sleeping. I need to work. Consider yourself updated,” I say, moving to unlock the door to my diner.
“Mia should be coming to me,” she says. “You should be encouraging her to go to her mother when she’s upset.”
“Are you delusional?” I ask.
“Look, I’m here,” she says. “I plan on being in Mia’s life from here on out. You better get used to it.”
“No,” I say. “You better get used to feeling unwelcome by me and everyone else in this town.”
“Not everyone,” she says. “Garrett told me to stay.”
She’s not going to pull that one on me. “For Mia,” I say.
“Last night was a wakeup call for us. Garrett and I talked. We have some things to work through. We are going to get along and make every effort for Mia. Don’t interfere with that.”
“I don’t take my cues from you.”
She steps closer. “Mia is my daughter. Stop trying to take what’s not yours. What will never be yours.”
“Are we just talking about Mia, or is Garrett included in that?”
“Garrett and I share a child. Nothing you have with him will ever match that.”
“You have no idea what Garrett and I have.”
“I know he doesn’t want more kids,” she says, a definite snark to her voice.
“He told you that?”
“Mia told me that,” she says. “Which is pretty much like it coming from his own lips.”
Garrett and I had the kid conversation when we first started seeing each other. We didn’t agree on anything. He never shut the idea completely down, though.
“So you see,” she says. “What I have with him, you never will.”
She turns to walk away. My heart reeling, wanting to call her a bitch but not wanting to stoop to her level, I call out, “You’re right,” causing her to turn back. “I won’t ever have what you have with him, but it’s not because of Mia. It’s because you left.”
“You love to bring that up,” she says. “You think you love him more because you stayed here pining after him all these years? Let me tell you something. Loving someone and leaving them is a lot harder than staying. I could’ve stayed. That was the easier decision, but I did the harder thing. I let them both go. I loved them enough to let them go.”
“Do me a favor and do that again,” I say with an evil smile.
She rolls her eyes at me. “Loving someone and staying versus loving someone and leaving. Which is harder? You better hope that you don’t ever have to find out.”
What the hell? She thinks what she did was love? That it was harder than what Garrett did? Harder than what I did? She needs to ride that crazy train right out of town.
I was raised in Small Town USA—we stick. We don’t run when things get hard. We stay, we fight, we try harder. We don’t fold up shop and call it quits. Loving someone means sticking with them through thick and thin.
She has some gall thinking that she loves Garrett more than I do, that she loves Mia more than me. She took the easy route—all the way to fucking Europe! I know that’s not entirely true and judging her doesn’t make me feel any better, but why does she insist on talking to me? Seeking me out?
“Devlyn, everything alright?” Edward Hollis says, hurrying down the sidewalk toward us.
“You sure do have the Hollis men wrapped around your finger,” Sheena says.
“Just trying to get the day started,” I say.
“Me, too,” he says. “Already went to the cemetery this morning.”
I smile at him. His love for his wife hasn’t changed at all since she died. He’s still as devoted as ever. Is it a trait that all Hollis men love like that? Does Garrett?
He turns his eyes on Sheena, who’s giving him the same death stare. “I think it’s best if you move along,” he says to her.
“I told Garrett about the contract. He knows what you did.”
Edward waves his hand at her dismissively. “Did you also tell him your parents knew about it? Agreed to it?” She looks around, searching for a response. “You want to act like we pulled a fast one over on you, but you were fully informed about what you were signing, what you were doing.”
“I was a child.”
“You were a mother,” he says with a softness to his voice that I couldn’t manage if I was him. “Garrett begged you to stay. My dear wife, bless her soul, begged you not to leave. Isn’t that right?”
“I was . . .”
“I seem to remember the last conversation I had with you, too. Do you remember that? Because I do. I remember crying with you and promising to help you and Garrett. I tried to assure you that you weren’t alone. I told you that I would forever be grateful to you for giving me Mia and that if you stayed, I’d love you like my own.”
I’d bet she didn’t tell Garrett that part of the story.
“I couldn’t,” she says, tears streaming down her face.
“So I protected Mia and Garrett,” he says simply. “You can hate me for it. Blame me, but Garrett is my son. He might be upset with me now, but he won’t stay that way. He’d do the same thing for Mia. That’s what a parent does.”
Wiping her face and without another word, Sheena does what she does best—leaves.
I watc
h her walk away, and the man places his hand on my shoulder. “Buy you a cup of coffee?”
Charm runs in the family. Laughing a little, I unlock the door to the diner. I flick on the lights and get a pot brewing while Garrett’s dad takes a seat on a stool at the counter. “How you holding up?” he asks.
“Mia is overwhelmed,” I say. “And Garrett is . . .”
“I asked about you,” he says, reaching for a napkin.
“Right,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m a little tired.”
“I heard,” he says. “My granddaughter came to you.”
“It was nothing.”
“It’s everything,” he says. “She thinks she hasn’t had a mother all these years, but she has.”
My eyes fill. I honestly didn’t think anyone really noticed how much I did for Garrett and Mia. “I’m just the Biscuit Girl.”
“The one and only,” he says with that charming smirk that his son has, too. He pats the stool beside him. “Come sit and have a cup of coffee with an old man.”
*
I really shouldn’t have had that third cup of coffee with Garrett’s dad. I’ve been behind all morning. Not even the caffeine high has been able to catch me up. Seems like everyone in town came into the diner this morning, chatting about Mia, asking me questions that I won’t answer. I’m running on empty, so when Mia calls asking me if I can come back home, I’m pretty much dead on my feet.
I don’t think I have it in me to negotiate a fight between her and Garrett or have some big conversation with him about Sheena. A blanket, pillow, and ten hours of uninterrupted sleep is what I need, and it’s only eleven in the morning.
Opening my front door, I have no idea what to expect. Could be World War III? Could be tears and tissues?
So I’m completely surprised when Mia screams, “Surprise!”
She and Garrett pull me into my kitchen. Well, it used to be my kitchen. Now it’s a littered mess of pots, pans, skillets, and dirty kitchen towels.
“We made you breakfast,” Mia says, as Garrett urges me to the table to sit down. The kitchen might be a disaster, but the table is perfect.
Cloth napkins, wine glasses holding orange juice, the china my grandmother left me but I never have occasion to use. It looks like I’m having tea with the Queen, only this is better. The most important meal of the day with the most important people in my life.
All My Life Page 21