Rachel Laine (The Women of Merryton Book 3)

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Rachel Laine (The Women of Merryton Book 3) Page 15

by Peel, Jennifer

“So you thought now would be a good time?”

  “The sooner the better, I thought.”

  I sat up and rubbed my face, trying to fully wake up.

  “I have good news,” he followed up.

  “What?”

  “They did a straw poll of the possible candidates yesterday, and I won.”

  That was not good news to me. “Congratulations.”

  “You don’t sound like you mean that.”

  “I know that’s what you want, so I’m happy for you, but this can’t go on. You need to make a choice.”

  “Rachel, are we back to that again? This doesn’t have to be an either-or.”

  “Let me tell you about my day yesterday, and you tell me whether you think that’s a good idea or not. Your son can’t understand why he can’t tell anyone about you. Why you can’t come to his games, and why you didn’t call him yesterday. Not only that, he’s already seeing you as some sort of father figure. Only being able to be partially in his life isn’t fair to him or me.”

  I waited for his rebuttal, but instead there was silence.

  “Andrew?”

  “I’m here. And you’re right.”

  That shocked me awake.

  “So what do you propose, Rachel?”

  “I know how much this means to you, so run in the next election cycle.”

  He let out a long, heavy breath. “The train has already left the station. My party is counting on me, and I’ve dreamt about doing this for a long time.”

  “Well then, I guess we’ll see you in March, or whenever you see fit to let Drew be a priority in your life.”

  “He is a priority. There has to be a way to compromise. I can’t go that long without seeing him … or you.”

  “I can’t let you hurt him.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Maybe not intentionally.”

  “Rachel, please, there has to be some way we can meet in the middle.”

  “I can’t think of anything right now.”

  “I’m going to think of something and call you back.”

  I didn’t even get to say goodbye before he hung up.

  That was not the way I wanted to start Monday morning.

  I tried my best to concentrate at work, but I found myself thinking about ways to make this work and … what did Andrew mean when he said he didn’t want to go that long without seeing me? I knew it was stupid, and it probably meant nothing, but the really dumb part was that I found myself not wanting to go that long without seeing him, too. I felt dishonorable thinking that way. He fathered a child with Sydney, and then didn’t believe her when she told him she was pregnant. Maybe he had valid reasons for not believing her, but all the same, he ignored his possible responsibility. And now he was wrapped up in politics. I never cared for politicians. All I had to do was look at the mayor of Merryton, Landon Riley, my business competitor and winner of the biggest pig in Merryton award, to prove my point.

  Why did Andrew have to be charming? And good looking? And well-spoken? And intelligent? Let’s not forget an amazing cook. Why did he have to be Drew’s dad? And why was I even thinking like this? I had to remind myself I was happy being single. I didn’t need someone to sip wine and eat decadent chocolate cake with in front of the fireplace. And I didn’t need someone to call me beautiful or look at me like I was a woman.

  I didn’t need Andrew Turner.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Hello, Rachel?”

  “Yes, this is she.”

  “It’s Evelyn Turner.”

  “Hello, how are you?”

  “Good. Thank you. Do you have a moment to talk?”

  It was Friday, and I was in the car line, waiting for Drew and enjoying my twenty minutes of solitude I got every day. “This is perfect timing.”

  “Tell me how you and that son of yours are?”

  “Busy, as always. Drew plays in the little league championship game tomorrow. I’m going to be glad when football season is over. Does that sound terrible?”

  She laughed in commiseration. “Not at all. I loved to watch Andrew play, but I did enjoy the off seasons.”

  “Well, if Drew gets his way, it looks like my off season won’t last too long. He’s already begging me to sign him up for spring baseball.”

  “Andrew mentioned he was encouraging him.”

  “I think encouragement is an understatement.”

  “That sounds like my son, and speaking of my son,” she continued. “I saw him today and he wasn’t really himself.”

  “Is that so?”

  “He’s missing Drew and you.”

  “He’s called every day.” Per the compromise we came up with.

  “It’s not the same, though.”

  “Evelyn, I’m not trying to keep Drew away from Andrew. I’m trying to protect my son. You can understand that, right?”

  “I think you mistook me. I agree with you.”

  “Oh. You do?”

  “I do. That being said, I do love my son, even though he’s acting like a stubborn fool at the moment. I was hoping that you and Drew would like to join me for Thanksgiving.”

  “Is your son coming?”

  “I know you agreed to only allow phone contact until all of this campaign nonsense is over, but it would mean a lot to me to have you join us. I’ve waited a long time to have grandchildren. I wasn’t even sure I would ever have any at the rate Andrew has been going. And I would really like to get to know you better.”

  “Isn’t Andrew afraid someone will see us all together?”

  “I think at this point, Andrew is willing to do almost anything to see you.”

  It was the almost part I didn’t like.

  “Besides, I live in a secluded, gated community, where we all appreciate our privacy.”

  I wondered what that must be like. Privacy was extinct in Merryton. “I don’t want to confuse Drew.”

  “I’m not trying to disagree with you, but I imagine keeping them apart could also cause some confusion. And it’s only one day.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Great. In the meantime, think of what you would like us to make. I want this to be the best Thanksgiving we’ve all ever had.”

  She was already talking like it was a done deal. “Thank you, Evelyn. I’ll be in touch.”

  “I look forward to hearing from you.”

  These Turners were turning my life upside down. Maybe that could be Andrew’s campaign slogan—Andrew Turner: Proven Ability to Turn Lives Upside Down, or maybe, Seasoned Life Changer, or how about, Dedicated to Upending Your Life. I’m sure they were going to go with something related to his pro baseball career, but mine were more accurate.

  I dropped Drew off at his last practice. I took the time to run to the grocery store. It was easier to shop without Drew—he didn’t enjoy it, and I didn’t like the complaining, so it was a win-win.

  I casually strolled through the aisles of the newly built Fresh Market. Our town was now big enough for two grocery stores. We’d needed it for a while, but our incompetent mayor stalled the progression because of all the hoops he made them jump through. I think the city council finally talked some sense into him. Politicians are idiots. That was the truest campaign slogan of all.

  I guess you could tell you’re a single mom with no real social life when you find great pleasure strolling through a grocery store, a lovely store, but a grocery store all the same.

  “Rachel Laine,” I heard a familiar voice call.

  I turned around to find Jessie pushing Tristan in a cart, coming toward me. “Why is it we always run into each other here?” I teased, though it was true. It was like we lived there or something.

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but our daughter seems to attract teenage boys, and teenage boys eat a lot.”

  “So Blake lets them come over?”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I told him better our house than theirs. And I have to say, they are brave boys to keep coming over. Blake isn’t out
right rude, but his looks alone should put the fear of God in them.”

  “That’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

  “True,” she agreed. “Anyway, we were wondering if you wanted to join us for Thanksgiving. My parents, the Parkers, and Cheyenne and her flavor of the month will all be coming. Cheyenne’s hoping Andrew Turner will be the flavor.”

  I could feel the heat in my cheeks. I hated that his name was being tossed around in this town. And I had to admit, I found myself not liking the thought of Andrew and Cheyenne together. I tried to keep the nervousness out of my laugh. “I wish her luck with that.”

  “You know him, right?” Jessie asked.

  My new slogan was going to be: I Hate You, Andrew Turner. “Technically, yes.” I refused to lie.

  “Well, maybe you could help her out.”

  “Me?” My mouth was feeling dry all of a sudden. “I don’t think so.”

  She grinned. “Well, maybe he’ll come back into town and she can run into him herself.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  “So, can you join us for Thanksgiving?”

  “We would love to, but can I get back to you? We already received another invitation and I’m thinking about it.”

  She eyed me. “So mysterious lately, Rachel.”

  “I’m not being mysterious; I’m working through something.” I hoped I was ultra-quiet enough not to be overheard. This town had excellent ears.

  She reached for my arm and rested her hand on it. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me; I totally get it. But if you want to talk, I’m here for you.”

  I placed my own hand on hers. “You don’t know what that means to me. Thank you.”

  Tristan ended our moment as he reached for a bag of rice on the shelves. Jessie caught him just in time. “I can’t turn my back for two seconds on this little guy.”

  “Just wait,” I warned.

  She didn’t look afraid at all. “That’s what I hear. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  I loved her attitude, and I supposed after losing so many babies, she saw parenting as a blessing.

  “I’ll let you know about Thanksgiving.” I walked away cursing Andrew in my head … and Sydney. What was she thinking, getting herself mixed up with Andrew? Although I thought I knew. I was pretty sure she saw him as someone who would take care of her. He was different than what she was used to. She saw him as her chance to turn her life around. He protected her against his teammate, and I’m sure that left an impression on her. But she too easily mistook sex for love. It was a bad habit of hers.

  I let Andrew call Drew that night to wish him luck for his game the following day. I allowed him to call me daily to check on Drew, but I was limiting their calls. We explained to Drew how Andrew was busy with work, which was true. I was hoping the distance and infrequent contact would help slow the bonding until Andrew could fully engage with him as his father, but as I listened to them talk on the phone, I wasn’t so sure.

  “I wish you could come to my game,” Drew said.

  I’m not sure what Andrew said on the other end, but Drew’s eyes lit up. That worried me. Then he was laughing like crazy. My guess was that it had something to do with underwear. They talked for several minutes while I made dinner. Once Drew hung up the phone, he turned to me. “Andrew said he’ll call you later tonight. And guess what?”

  “What?”

  “He talked to Paxton Matthews today, the quarterback for the Stallions! Isn’t that awesome!”

  I nodded my head.

  “And he asked him to sign a football for me!”

  There was no competing with this guy. Not that it was a competition, but Andrew was going to be opening doors for Drew that I would never have access to. And not that I didn’t do well financially, but I would never touch the kind of money Andrew had. Was Drew going to think less of me when he found out how much his dad had to offer him? Being his mother and taking care of him had to count for something, right?

  “That’s really nice.” I tried not to tear up. “Why don’t you go wash up before dinner?” I needed a few seconds to compose myself.

  I found myself cursing Andrew more and more as I scrubbed grass stains out of Drew’s pants and scoured the toilets later that night. Did he know what it was like to clean the toilet of an eight-year-old boy? He probably had a maid.

  After I put Drew to bed and snuggled him extra-long, I called his dad. I knew it was a rarity, but I wanted him to have a piece of my mind. “I don’t need you to be a Disneyland Dad.”

  “Well, hello to you, too,” he laughed.

  “I’m serious.”

  “I am, too, hello.”

  “Fine, hello.”

  “So, what did I do now to deserve your wrath?”

  “I have a list, but for now, let’s talk about the fact that I don’t plan on being the enforcer parent. I’m fun, too.”

  “I’m certainly up for having some fun with you.”

  “I’m being serious.”

  “Believe me, so am I.”

  “Andrew …”

  “Yes?”

  “I need to know that when it comes to being Drew’s dad, you will do the hard stuff, too. You know, like making sure he cleans up and does his homework. And that you won’t let Drew think less of me because I don’t make as much money as you or have famous friends.”

  He started to laugh.

  “Please, don’t laugh. I’m being serious.”

  His laughter died. “Rachel Laine, I promise I don’t plan on being a Disneyland Dad. We are going to be partners. And believe me, I will always make sure Drew knows how lucky he is that you’re his mom.”

  “Thanks, Andrew.”

  “Now that we have that settled. We need to settle something else vitally important. What time are you coming to Thanksgiving dinner?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  I couldn’t believe Andrew talked me into going to his mom’s house for Thanksgiving. I’d stressed about it for the last three weeks. That and the fact the recall was happening. Why couldn’t the moron representative have resigned? He was obviously guilty. They were already talking about prosecuting the man. It was as if he wanted to stick it to his own party for calling him out on his bad behavior. Why Andrew wanted to get involved in that mess, I had no idea.

  I wasn’t sure who was more excited we were coming, Andrew or Drew. The two peas needed the same pod. I hadn’t told Drew until two days before where we were going. It was probably a good thing, too, since it was all he could talk about once I told him. He was excited to show Andrew his first-place trophy, and the nice scar he was going to have above his eye where the stitches were. Some kid on the Raiders tackled him so hard that when their heads collided, Drew’s helmet came off and the other kid’s helmet cut Drew’s eye. I didn’t care that Drew didn’t want me to run on the field, I did anyway. Even Taylor, in her pregnant state, ran after me.

  Andrew actually had to calm me down about it that night. I was ready to never allow Drew to play sports again. I was set to sign him up for piano lessons. “Just wait until you have a kid that plays,” I said without thinking. I was that freaked out by it.

  “I do have a kid that plays,” he reminded me.

  “Yeah, well, you weren’t there.”

  “Next year I will be there holding your hand and cheering him on.”

  Sometimes when he said things like that, I wondered if he meant that figuratively or if he really was planning on holding my hand. And sometimes I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to, figuratively or not.

  “You’re still planning on signing him up for baseball, right?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I’ve seen some ugly baseball games and they don’t wear padding at all, and helmets are only worn when they bat.”

  He chuckled. “Come on, Rachel. You can’t let such talent go to waste.”

  “You only want him to play because you did.”

  “Well, there’s that, but seriously, he’s good. Maybe even better than me at t
hat age.”

  “Registration isn’t until February. I don’t want to think about it until then.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll remember for us.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  “Give Drew an extra hug from me, and tell him way to take one for his team. I’m proud of him.”

  “I will, but please don’t promise him a horse or even a dog out of the deal.”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of season tickets to the Stallions.”

  “If that’s the case, make sure you get a seat for me.”

  “I can manage that.”

  “I was kidding.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Goodnight, Andrew.”

  “Goodnight.”

  We always had the oddest conversations.

  I was actually looking forward to seeing him. I was talking to him way more than any of my friends, or even my parents, who were now in Tucson living up the senior life and enjoying the beautiful warm weather. I couldn’t wait for Christmas break when Drew and I would be joining them.

  The morning of Thanksgiving I was nervous. I felt a need to dress well, or at least attractively, all while staying warm. I was worried about the weather. We were under a winter storm watch that the weatherman was saying could be upgraded to a warning. They were predicting the snow to start around nine that night, so I thought we should be fine. Evelyn lived forty-five minutes away, and I couldn’t imagine us staying that late. We were getting there at ten that morning so I could help with preparing the feast and so that Andrew and Drew could spend some quality time together. I settled on wearing a midnight blue asymmetrical sweater and some skinny jeans Taylor talked me into buying when we had gone shopping the previous week. She said they made my butt and legs look fabulous. I hoped she was right.

  I let my hair fall naturally, untamed, the way Andrew said he liked it. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but when I looked in the mirror, I saw a woman.

  Drew was looking spiffy in new jeans, minus any dirt or grass stains, and a Bears jersey Andrew had given him. We both brought our winter gear, just in case. We headed out the door with a harvest bouquet in hand for Evelyn, an apple-cranberry pie I had made the night before, and Jake, our lovable lab. Evelyn was kind enough to allow us to bring him.

 

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