Fight From The Heart: a small town romance (Heart Collection Book 4)

by L. B. Dunbar

  Ah, observant woman.

  “Don’t give up on him yet, Pam.”

  The words strike their mark as it’s what Jacob’s been asking me over and over again lately.

  + + +

  “You quit working for Jacob?” Ella’s startled voice surprises me through the phone.

  “I had to, Ella.” Behind the desperation, I want her to understand. However, apparently, I’m still working for him. My voice drops, softening when I ask, “Have you spoken with him?”

  “No. Outside interaction isn’t allowed.” Silence fills the phone a second. “He needs you.”

  “He doesn’t need me.” He needs the treatment he’s getting, and I’m so happy he’s finally getting help.

  “He does, Pam,” Ella whines. “You’re the longest relationship he’s had and the truest friend.”

  “We had a business relationship, and we crossed a line that shouldn’t have been crossed.” It’s best for my heart to think of it in these terms. We made a mistake. I fault myself for giving into him. Unavailable man, his Irish trainer called him.

  “He’s in love with you.”

  I sigh. “Even if that were true, he has Mandi,” I remind her.

  “Something isn’t adding up there. Why hadn’t she said something before?” She exhales in frustration.

  “Don’t you want him?” Ella’s voice falls. She knows how I feel. Hell, everyone’s been telling me for years how I feel about him.

  “Yes,” I admit. “But it’s not up to me.”

  “He’s getting help for you.”

  I huff a laugh. “He’s getting help for himself, and that’s how it should be. You should understand where he’s coming from.” It’s a reminder that Ella needed months to figure herself out before she came back to Ethan. Not that I expect Jacob to return to me, but he’s getting the help he needs for him.

  “It still sucks, but he’s going to better, Pam. You wait and see. He’s going to be a better man when he comes back to you.”

  “Ella,” I drone. I can’t hear these things. He isn’t coming back to me. He has Mandi and a baby. “I really need to go.”

  “Listen,” she grinds the word in frustration. “If there’s anything he’d say to you, it’s don’t quit. You’ve told him to listen to his heart. What is yours saying to you? That’s the advice you gave me once, and everything in mine told me to come back to Ethan. What held my heart lived here in this town. It’s the same for Jacob.”

  How I wish that were true, but I’ve had a taste of New York. Its ups and downs, and bright lights and big city fits the chaos of Jacob’s life. While our small town has been a retreat for him, this isn’t his home. It’s a place to escape to write and think, and I imagine he’ll sell it once he finishes treatment.

  “I really need to go, Ella. I’ll see you Thursday,” I remind her, at the weekly family get-together where I’ll permanently remain the token single lady at the table.

  Chapter 24

  Thirty-Day Grace Period

  [Pam]

  The next thirty days pass in in a blur as I throw myself into work. The weather heats up a bit, but is temperamental like the Midwest can be. Daffodils, hyacinth, and pansies bloom, and the garden center begins to buzz. It’s almost May, and the lilacs will begin to bloom soon. The thought of them opening up and fragrancing our place curls my stomach. I don’t want the reminder of Jacob’s nickname for me. I’m hopeful he’s getting the help he needs, and I silently wish him well as each day passes. Unfortunately, I am sick. This time it’s a stomach bug I couldn’t shake.

  “Did you throw up again?” Mae admonishes as I exit the bathroom, swiping at my lips. Once I vomit, I feel better, and sometimes I’m even hungry afterward.

  “I think I drank too much last night,” I lie, as I didn’t drink a thing with my family during our weekly ritual at the Tavern. I haven’t had the desire for anything stronger than water lately and soda. All the cherry cola in the world sounds delicious to me, along with the tuna fish sandwich on Mae’s desk.

  “Are you going to eat that?” I ask like a woman desperate when I see she hasn’t put her lunch in the fridge yet.

  Mae’s nose scrunches. “You just got sick, and you want a tuna fish sandwich for breakfast? Are you . . .”

  Crazy resonates through my thoughts, and I’m starting to think I am. I’m having strange dreams that make me restless, and I wake exhausted. It’s like all I want to do is sleep, and I fight the urge, telling myself I will not fall into depression over Jacob’s absence. I’ve missed him as I imagined, and I imagine I miss him because he’s been my focus for two and a half years. It’s been a non-relationship relationship where I’ve devoted myself to being faithful to him for no reason.

  “Pam,” Mae says louder, snapping me out of my head. “Are you pregnant?”

  “Hell no,” I immediately react, blinking at her like she’s a little off her rocker. Her eyes focus on me, holding me with her questioning gaze, which shifts to concern.

  “No.” The single word is a wisp of air between us. “I can’t be.”

  “How can’t you be?” she questions.

  “We . . .” My voice trails. I lower for my desk chair, still staring up at her, counting the days from my last period.

  “The last time I had my period was the beginning of February,” I murmur, speaking to myself, but Mae hears me. Jacob had been on vacation, so it was before Valentine’s Day. Then I was sick and the snowstorm, and . . .

  “But we used a condom.” I look up at Mae, my voice filled with my own question. How could this have happened? We’d used protection. He used condoms, and I was on the pill, but I’d been sick and taking medication, and oh my God.

  My hand hits my forehead. “I’m on the pill, but I’d been sick the week before Jacob and I . . . and I was taking medicine to help with the flu.” Plus, I’d been at Jacob’s for those days I was ill and then again during the unexpected snowstorm. I’d been so inconsistent for almost two weeks.

  Mae slowly smiles at me.

  “Oh my God,” I mutter, covering my mouth as I stare at my friend. “This can’t be.”

  It was only one night.

  “I think it might be, and there’s only one way to find out.” Excitement grows in my friend’s face, but I’m failing to find any emotion. I’m numb. I’m stunned. I have no idea what I’ll do, but the uncertainty quickly passes to possibility. I’d have a baby. I’d raise the baby. I’d be a mother.

  I’d be so happy.

  “But Jacob,” I stammer. Jacob had already gotten another woman pregnant. We couldn’t both be pregnant at the same time. I feel sick all over again, only this time has nothing to do with food.

  “Let’s worry about only you for now,” Mae states as the voice of reason. “We need to get to the pharmacy.”

  “I can’t walk into the pharmacy and buy a pregnancy test.” The place is located underneath my apartment. How would I explain myself because small town and rumor mongers. “The gossip will start before I even leave the store.”

  “We’ll drive to Alton. There’s a CVS there. You can do it right in the bathroom.”

  “I’m not giving myself a pregnancy test in a public restroom,” I retort. But Mae is already reaching for my hand, and she drags me out of my seat. Calling out to Franny, she tells our employee we need to run an errand, and we’ll be back in forty minutes.

  “How long will the test take?” I laugh, already knowing I’ll only need the time it takes to pee on a stick and wait five minutes.

  Forty minutes later, it doesn’t matter how much time passes. I’ve taken a pregnancy test in a pharmacy restroom while Mae stands outside the stall. The results are positive. Confirmed by a little pink plus on a stick, I’m pregnant.

  I’m going to be a mother. Single and thirty-six, I never imagined this would be my life.

  + + +

  Two weeks later, I’m still numb—not in a bad way—just a stunned way. It’s been six weeks since I’ve seen Jacob. As I’m almost eight we
eks along in my pregnancy, I’m still suffering morning queasiness along with cravings for random food like tuna fish sandwiches for breakfast. In this state of brain fog, my phone rings, and I answer when I see Ella calling.

  “Are you excited?” I have no idea what she means, but she has so much to be excited about. Ethan opened his restaurant on April first as he planned, and they are engaged. I’m so sorry Jacob missed their announcement and Ethan’s opening, but it couldn’t be prevented. Thankfully, in the party celebration atmosphere, we didn’t discuss Jacob, keeping our silence on concern for his health and well-being. Ella’s been checking in with me once a week since he’s gone into treatment, and I’ve appreciated the calls even though they’ve been a little painful. We avoid all discussions of her brother. She’s my friend, but she’s also a reminder of what I’ve lost.

  I miss him.

  “What am I missing?” I ask, attempting to fill my voice with enthusiasm for whatever has her bursting at the seams.

  “I . . .” The heavy pause teases me, and I chuckle softly.

  “Well?”

  “I thought he told you.” Her voice drops, and my heart follows.

  “Who told me what?” I ask, hesitating while sensing who she means.

  “Jacob. He’s coming home.”

  A ripple rushes through me, a combination of thrill clashing with dread. He’s been released. He’s coming here. Then I crash because he hasn’t called me, and he’s probably bringing her.

  “That’s wonderful,” I state minus enthusiasm.

  Ella’s sudden quiet is unsettling. “I’m certain he planned to call you.”

  “Ella, you don’t need to cover for him. It’s okay. I hope he’s healthy and happy. He’ll need strength for the next stage of his life.”

  “Pam,” Ella hesitates. “He—”

  “He didn’t call me, Ella. I’ve accepted that nothing is going to happen between us.”

  “No, you don’t understand. Mandi and—”

  “I’ve got to go,” I say, choking on the lump in my throat. I can’t hear this. I can’t listen to her tell me he’s coming home, but he’s bringing his girlfriend with him. The mother of his child. Maybe she’s his wife by now. Fingers cover my lips as I click off the phone, holding back the sob until I’m clear of her listening. Then I break down again, holding a hand over my lower belly.

  It’s just you and me, kid.

  You and me.

  Chapter 25

  One Plus One Does Not Equal . . . One

  [Jacob]

  When Mandi sabotaged me outside the elevator, I refused to take her to my apartment. Everything in me told me to chase after Pam. Run down the flights to stairs and catch her at the bottom of the hell we’d just been propelled into. Instead, I stood still, frozen by the cold sensation of Pam’s hand slipping from mine.

  Hand holding.

  She’d let me go. For all my begging and pleading not to give up on me, she let me go, and I couldn’t blame her. Mandi stood before me spewing lies, and I had no reaction.

  “This can’t be true,” I hissed in the face of the woman I’d confused for love. Her aggressive behavior. Her seductive attitude. Her hits, her scratches, her promises. All of it a lie. People want to proclaim love is a lie, but I disagreed. Love was the truth. Mandi had been my lie.

  Pam was my love.

  “We haven’t been together since . . . since . . . I don’t even remember when.” I’d meant what I said to Pam. I was not with Mandi on our miserable vacation

  Mandi flinched at my lack of memory. “New Year’s Eve. We were together then.” Hastily, I counted backward from mid-March to the new year. I hardly remembered the night, hardly remembered getting it up for her.

  I didn’t remember because I’d been drinking.

  My chest squeezed, my lungs constricted. I couldn’t breathe.

  Drinking.

  It’d be the ruin of me after all because I couldn’t remember anything, and this woman might be carrying my baby.

  Did I stop drinking as my world fell apart? Did I slow down because the love of my life walked away from me? Did I give up on my drug of choice because my life was ruined?

  No, I delved into a bottle that night and the next three days, until I found Theresa McTigue standing over me.

  I’d tried to quit—not drinking—but my writing.

  I’d told my agent I couldn’t finish the book I’d been writing. I couldn’t continue working without my muse because my inspiration had quit on me.

  Two words from Lilac. I quit.

  She’d quit me, us, and I couldn’t blame her. I was a mess. I’d hit rock bottom, and those rocks were hard and edged with the truth. I had a problem.

  In my weakest moment, I asked Theresa to help me, and here I spent days, staring out at the budding spring landscape of Upper New York.

  I promised myself I would not miss the blooming of lilacs in Michigan. I’d see the unveiling of purple and white flowers, no matter how much it reminded me of the scent of my personal woodland nymph.

  I refused to think about how she’d run away from me.

  + + +

  I’m nervous as I sit at the bar. I missed Ethan’s grand opening and the announcement of his engagement to my sister. I haven’t always been the best big brother, although Ella tells me I am. Part of my therapy was coming to terms with my role in her scars and then accepting that it wasn’t my fault. She cried as she listened to me apologize and then explain my feelings about her situation, and she forgave me as she had years ago.

  I didn’t deserve her, but that’s another term I’d had to accept. I did deserve things in my life—good things—and the best thing for me was my angel.

  My hands sweat around the glass, slipping up and down on the condensation outside of it. Ethan helped set this up for me, and I’m grateful for his friendship. I’ve had to learn to let go of those who hadn’t been friends over the years and recognize the people who were truly friends to me. It wasn’t hard to walk away from the people who held a false label.

  “She’s here,” Ethan whispers to me, and I shift the barstool.

  She’s so fucking beautiful. Her curves. Her face. Her short, loose curls. There’s something that looks different about her, but whatever it is, it doesn’t matter.

  She’s here.

  She doesn’t see me at first, and I watch her walk in the general direction of the bar. It’s located in the back corner, not more than four stools across. This isn’t really the type of place to hang out and drink but a place to eat and linger at tables. Ethan did a beautiful job of setting up the place with its crisp white shiplap, soft mini-bulb lighting, and wrought-iron contrasts. Tables scatter throughout the place with white linen and an eclectic collection of chairs per table. The kitchen entrance is flanked by the bar and a stone fireplace with a black and white painting over it.

  Ella intercepts Pam, who smiles at my sister. My fingers itch to touch her again. Hell, I just want to hold her and inhale her scent. I’ve missed my Lilac.

  I turn back for the bar again and take a long sip from my glass. My hands shake, but it’s not as bad as when I first went into the treatment center. I hear Ella and Pam’s voice behind me, and my heart rattles in the cage of my chest.

  The demons have been set free, or at least most of them.

  “He asked you out again?” Ella’s voice struggles, and I stiffen with my back to them.

  Did Pam go on a date? Did that surfer douche get to her? Am I too late? Panic seizes my chest, and I spin on the stool.

  “Lilac.” It takes her a second to register my voice and then turn to look at me.

  God, she’s so beautiful, I think again, taking in the sapphire spark of her eyes, the brightness of her lips, and a slight flush to her cheeks.

  “Jacob.” My name is a breathless exhale like the times I entered her, and instantly, I’m hard. She slowly smiles at me, and without thought, I slip from the stool, stepping up to her and kissing her cheek.

  “You smell beau
tiful.”

  “I’m going to check on Ethan. I’ll be right back,” Ella states, conveniently excusing herself and leaving Pam and me in silence, which we should have stayed in because my mouth can’t hold back.

  “So you went out with him?”

  The smile on her face instantly morphs in exasperation, and she looks off at the diners near us.

  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” she says, turning back to me.

  “But you did,” I press. Dating is just a precursor to sex. Did she have sex with him? Am I too late? My blood pressure goes from zero to sixty.

  “Did you sleep with him?” I can’t seem to stop myself, and her arms cross.

  “Are you drinking?” She nods at the large glass on the bar.

  “It’s water.” I steady my voice, finding her question reasonable. I’ll have a lot of explaining to do for myself, and I’m not off to a good start. However, I can’t give it up. “Answer the question.”

  Turning her head to the side again, she huffs. “No, I didn’t go out with him.”

  Thank God.

  “Maybe you’d like to take it in the kitchen, or outside,” Ethan appears, noting the tension rising between Pam and myself, and a few guests who are watching us.

  Pam huffs in that direction, and I follow her. Ethan follows as well, continuing to guide us to the back exit. It’s a crisp early spring evening, and the scent of new growth is in the air. The fieldstone restaurant sits amid a meadow with a large red barn to the left. Cherry trees in neat lines are the backdrop to the barn.

  “You can fight back here,” Ethan states, leaning foward to kiss Pam’s cheek. “You have my permission to punch him.”

  Ethan steps away from us, and Pam turns back on me.

  “She wasn’t pregnant,” I blurt out. It’s not the first explanation I wanted to give her. I wanted to explain what happened, where I went, why I couldn’t call. I wanted this reunion to be a surprise, and it’s turning into a shamble. The fight to accept that I don’t ruin everything in my life becomes real because it feels like I’m destroying this moment.