You’re the One I Don’t Want

by Carrie Aarons

  “She’s pretty great with them, huh?” Ramona gives me a hug in greeting.

  I pull back. “She is. I have to say, I’m surprised. Anna doesn’t strike me as a kid person.”

  “I think that there is a lot that our girl likes to disguise about herself. Those kids cracked her the first day she came to visit us at home. They had her down on the floor coloring in half an hour flat.” We watch through the big bay windows all around the first floor of the house as Annabelle and James start to taste test all of the food.

  Ramona chuckles. “We better get in there before those two eat all of our supper.”

  The inside of the house is even better than the outside, which is saying something. Outside, I find out, they have almost twenty acres of land that includes a vintage, hand-laid tile swimming pool that Annabelle can’t stop talking about. They also have a barn complete with goats, sheep and four horses. The kids help out, which teaches them each valuable life lessons, and they often go to set with their mom and dad to learn the business. Connor seems to particularly idolize his dad and has asked for a tool box for his upcoming ninth birthday.

  The Hart’s house is a home, the exact kind you envision growing up in as a child. There are more windows than walls, it’s all whites and pale blues and sturdy wood but playful decor. The kitchen table is like an upgraded picnic bench setup, and Ramona has touches of genius DIY and design all around. Before we begin eating dinner, they say grace and then go around the table and say their thorn and their rose. This exercise lets each person tell the table what’s the best and worst part of their day.

  And the spread they have … my God. Grilled chicken and ribs, which are fresh poultry and grass-fed animals from a local friend’s farm. Fresh corn, creamed spinach, sweet potato dumplings and the spicy potato salad that definitely doesn’t disappoint.

  “Boone, what is your thorn and rose?” Gabby asks, eyeing me like she still doesn’t know if she can trust me yet.

  My eyes flick up to the ceiling, and I think for a minute. “Hm, well, my thorn would be losing my baseball game yesterday. It broke our six-game winning streak. But I think I can forget all about that, since my rose is being here with you all. I’m glad I could finally spend some time with your mom and dad and meet you all.”

  The little girl looks to be satisfied by this answer. She turns to Annabelle. “Okay, I approve. You can keep him.”

  All of the adults at the table laugh, and Anna nods her head. “Why thank you. I was afraid I’d have to get rid of him after tonight.”

  “I watched one of your games on TV with my dad. Can we play catch some time?” Ethan asks me, and this kid looks like he is so nervous to address me.

  “Of course, bud. Hey, why don’t you get your glove now?” I was so full from the feast I’d just chowed down on, and exercise was my vice.

  “Mom, Dad, can I please be excused?” Ethan jumps up and down in his chair.

  Ramona smiles, and James gives him a thumbs-up. “Go ahead, E, I’ll go get my glove and come out with you as well.”

  James and I push back from the table, and I bend down to plant a kiss on Anna’s head before I walk out.

  “Give him hell, E!” Anna calls from behind us.

  We toss around for a while, me giving the kid pointers as James throws back and forth between the two of us, looking as gleeful as his son.

  “This is just too cool. I’m a fan, man.” He smiles at me.

  “I’m the fan, genuinely. What you do in there,” I nod at the house, “is more than anything I’ve ever accomplished.”

  He gazes at Ethan. “Won’t argue with that. They’re the real lights of my life. Everything else, it just doesn’t matter all that much when you have a family.”

  Ethan looks beat after forty minutes or so of playing catch and asks to go in and watch the hour of TV the kids are allowed a day. James grants him that, and we sit down on the front steps of the wrap-around porch.

  “How do you juggle it all? The show, the family, your own personal happiness? I just … sometimes when I think about pleasing Anna, baseball, school, it all just overwhelms me.”

  James sighs, looking out at the setting sun. “I met Ramona when I was fifteen. Right then, I knew she was the girl for me. We got married when we were nineteen, with a dream of owning a contracting and design business in our hometown. All of that got put on hold when we got pregnant with Gabby a month after our wedding. I had to go to work for someone else; Ramona took a secretary job at the local school. And the kids just kept coming. Bills and crappy apartments, we’ve seen some hard times, Boone. And now I’m not saying that you haven’t worked for what you got, but I’ll challenge anyone who says my wife and I ain’t broken our backs working for what we got. It took us a long time to build our success. But the one thing that was always a constant was our family. It’s why I’ve been able to build a strong business. There is nothing like the support of a strong woman and the children you created to get you through hard times. They’re the sugar behind all of it. My success is not my greatest achievement. My family is.”

  His advice sits in my heart, swirling around the organ although I don’t quite grasp all of it yet. He’s older, far wiser than I am. I’m just at the beginning. I know what hard work is like, and I’ve struggled, but I’ve done it primarily on my own.

  What would it be like to have the support of a partner for the rest of your life? What must it be like to come home and wash off all the disappointment of the day when you saw your kid’s faces?

  “Like I said, I’m a true fan. Not a lot of people stay as grounded as you and Ramona. It’s refreshing.”

  He pats my knee and stands. “We should get back. Ramona made double chocolate chip cookies for dessert. But, if you ever need a dose of reality, come on over. We’re always here with chores and homework for you to help out with.”

  “Deal.” I shake his hand.

  When I came here tonight, I had no idea that this family, and seeing Annabelle with them, would make me have even more things to consider when it comes to my future.

  But here I am, picturing my life in ten years. And I’m not surprised to see Annabelle by my side.

  Thirty-Four

  Annabelle

  “Where is he? I can’t spot him yet!”

  Boone’s mom is hopping up and down on the bleacher seat next to mine. But she’s not the only excited parent, and honestly, she’s a hundred times more tame than the family a few rows down who keeps ringing cowbells every time they spot their graduate.

  “They haven’t brought the teachers out yet, they’re still on the communications majors. He’ll be walking out soon,” I assure her.

  Jamie Graham got into town yesterday, making the three-hour drive from Haven alone to see her son graduate college. Apparently, Boone’s father was too sour that he never had this chance and didn’t want to put aside his own bullshit jealousy to congratulate his kid. But whatever, we were having a better time without him.

  Jamie is sweet as sugar, and although I’d seen her around town growing up, we had never been introduced. Not even when Boone and I dated in high school, which was part of the problem back then.

  “I’m just so happy to meet you. I know why Boone’s been extra sweet these days on the phone. He has a special someone lighting up his heart.”

  It’s what she’d said when I had gone over to Boone’s apartment last night for dinner, and then she’d enveloped me in a hug. I was so shocked, I could barely speak through dinner. But Jamie peppered me with questions, and even gushed about how much she loves my honesty on Hart & Home. “I just can’t understand why some of the home buyers want to paint their bathroom green. Or install shag carpeting!”

  And the way Boone adores her … it’s really something. My dad and I are close because we are family and we had no one else for a long time. But the bond Jamie has with her son, it’s admirable. She is in touch with his life, follows his accomplishments and discusses baseball as if she could be a coach. She gives just enough cri
ticism and supplements it with encouragement. That is what a mother should be, and I long to hold her attention for as long as she’ll give it to me.

  “Oh, there he is! BOONE! WOOHOO!” she shouts, pride beaming from every pore.

  I look to where she finger points, and there he is. My sexy boyfriend, looking dapper as anything in his cap and gown. I’m proud too, because I know how hard he’s worked for this and how difficult it’s been to stay in school with the temptation of a million-dollar baseball career hanging just above his head.

  He waves up at us, his light hair peeking out from under the cap. It’s a little longer than it was just a few months ago, as is his beard, and I find my heart thumping at just how handsome he looks.

  The football stadium is packed, which is saying a lot. It seats almost eighty thousand people, and I’ve been to a few of Cain’s games where there weren’t nearly as many people as this. Parents, siblings, grandparents, girlfriends, boyfriends … you name it, there are people out in droves to cheer on their family members as they walk across that stage and receive their degree.

  And with this milestone Boone has reached, I also think about how far we’ve come. Since January, since he came back to Texas. Hate wouldn’t even describe what he felt for me then, and heartbreak wouldn’t describe what I felt. But slowly, with many months and a lot of time talking, and not talking, we’ve managed to form a relationship. And a pretty great one at that. A supportive, sexy, fun relationship where we lean on each other and don’t shy away from commitment.

  Except there is one major thing I’ve been keeping from him, and that pile of papers is currently stuffed in my desk drawer.

  “I can’t believe he actually made it here.” Jamie turns to me, interrupting my thoughts.

  Looking down, I see that Boone is now seated, waiting as the rest of the graduates file in and for the commencement speaker to take the stage.

  She keeps talking. “I wasn’t completely supportive when he said he wanted to get his degree instead of go straight into the league. Selfishly, we could have used the money. But … I want the best for my child. If he felt he needed to do this, I put my needs and wants aside to let him accomplish his goals. And now, he’ll put his all into baseball. And I know you’ll be here to support him.”

  Obviously, Boone never talked about us in high school, or what happened. I’m kind of pissed, but kind of happy that he never mentioned me. That way, this wonderful woman has no ill-feelings toward me, even if I do deserve them for hurting her son.

  “I will. I know you don’t know me, aside from my TV persona, but I’m loyal. And I’ll kill anyone who messes with one of my people.”

  Jamie chuckles. “I can kind of sense that. And I don’t want to speak out of turn, but I understand your hard shell. I won’t lie, I’ve heard about what happened with your mama. Shame, that woman was gifted with a daughter and she took it for granted. Don’t ever go thinking that was your fault, though. We are given people to love, and we’re supposed to love them. There are some out there who are just too selfish to see that.”

  I might cry in the middle of this stadium, and this woman who I just met is going to make that happen. I look out to the crowd of graduates below, trying to collect myself.

  “Oh, here comes the speaker!” There is a croak in my voice, but I reach over and squeeze Jamie’s hand to let her know … that I just thank her for her words. I hope she understands that.

  The commencement guest speaker is a former senator, and while I expect her speech to be boring, I’m surprised by the heartfelt words she imparts on the students sitting here, about to receive their degrees. We clap as she finishes, and we clap and scream even louder when Boone walks across the stage. Others around us point to him and whisper about his baseball career, and Jamie practically beams about the good things being said about her son.

  We make our way down together in the swarm of people clambering onto the field to take pictures with their loved one. It takes us a good thirty minutes just to get down the stairs and find Boone among the chaos of bodies.

  “Boone!” Jamie runs to him, and even though he has a good foot and sixty pounds on her, she scoops him up in a hug.

  “I did it!” He holds his degree up, smiling at me over his mom’s shoulder.

  I join in, giddy for him, and kiss him full on the mouth while he hugs his mom. The smile that stretches his cheeks is so unlike Boone, and it’s making me feel like a schoolgirl watching her crush hug a puppy or something. It’s clear he’s proud of himself, because he stuck with college even when so many people told him to quit.

  His mom lets go, and Boone asks someone nearby to snap a picture of the three of us.

  “Have to remember this moment with my two favorite women,” he says as he stands in the middle of us, wrapping his tree-trunk arms around both of our shoulders.

  I feel like I’m a part of his world, a part of his family. Just like the other night, when I invited him to the Hart’s house, and watched him play catch with Ethan. I’d never considered marriage or a having kids as things that I would want in my life. Not that I want them anytime soon, but after my childhood, I didn’t think I knew anything about becoming a mother.

  It’s a long way off, and I’m still not even sure that the traditional life is the one that will happen for me, but … seeing Boone, at this moment, I want that commitment. It scares me how vividly I can see our lives playing out.

  For someone who has tried never to form an attachment to anyone or anything, this man has made me a convert. And I’m surprised to find that my mind doesn’t rebel against the idea, but instead keeps imagining further.

  Thirty-Five

  Annabelle

  With the semester over, all of my time is dedicated to the show.

  While my classmates are headed home to lounge around for the summer, or travel, or fetch coffee at summer internships, I’m boots to the dirt day in and day out. I supervise fifteen or sixteen renovations during the summer, a workload that I voluntarily take on to allow James and Ramona to get some much needed down time with the kids.

  I’m their wing-woman, their third in command, the workhorse that keeps everyone and everything on schedule.

  “Danny, can you please go help Riley bring in and dust off the bookcases? The living and dining room need to be put together by the end of the day, or we won’t be on schedule for the reveal on Friday,” I ask one of the many assistants who work on the show.

  I know that some of the crew think I’m a slave driver, but they just don’t understand what goes into keeping this show and business running. And someday soon, I’m going to give it all up to run my own show, be a slave driver for my own crew. The thought both excites and frightens me. I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night, in the midst of a panic attack, trying to resolve myself with the decision I made.

  Even though I still haven’t signed the contract.

  “Come on, Annabelle, do we have to hang both of those tapestries? Can’t we just wait until Jose gets here tomorrow?” Jessie, one of the new design interns whines.

  Jessie is on my last nerve. Ramona has been off all week, helping out at the kid’s camp, and since Jessie is a year older than me with less of a title, she thinks she can talk to me some sort of way.

  And my patience is tissue paper thin. “You know what, Jessie? If you have that attitude, you won’t be asked back by Ramona. I’ll make sure of it. And not because I have an authority complex, or because I’m a bitch. Because you can call me whatever you want, but I work my ass off. Ramona and James give me so much responsibility because I work until my fingers bleed. Until my eyes won’t stay open. Because this is my dream, and if it means standing on a ladder with a laser measuring tape, re-doing the tapestry hang to get it perfect, I’ll do it.”

  She stares at me, mouth hanging open, and someone nearby claps.

  I hear the word bitch whispered from Jessie as she turns around and stomps into the house. I just run a hand through my hair and breathe an exhausted sigh
. It’s been a long day.

  Another three hours at the job site and I finally fall into the driver’s seat of my car, rubbing my eyes to keep them open. As soon as I pull onto the highway, the Bluetooth in my car starts to ring with a phone call.

  I press the button to pick it up. “Hi, Daddy.”

  “Peaches, how is my girl?” His voice holds a smile, and it makes me smile.

  My dad is a good parent, and I am lucky to have grown up with him. Even if he had the cloud of my mother’s desertion hanging over his head for the second half of my childhood, he was still always there. He learned how to cook, did my homework with me, attended every cheerleading competition, and tried to make our home as normal as possible. I didn’t appreciate him enough for that.

  “I’m good, had a very long day at work. How are you guys?” I turn off at an exit and drive the ramp to another highway.

  “Oh, we’re good. Honey, I worry about you. You’re still a college student, you shouldn’t be working forty hours a week.” There is a drop of concern in his voice.

  I sigh. I haven’t told him about the offer from Kutch yet, but I need to talk to someone. And we have daughter-father relative privilege. If I say he can’t tell anyone, he won’t tell anyone.

  “Well, it might ramp up way more than I work now. I got a contract for my own show.” I go on to explain the meetings at headquarters, the premise of the show, and how much money I’d be making.

  “I don’t know, honey … are you sure you want to do this so early? You haven’t even graduated from college yet. Are you sure you don’t want a degree? This seems so rushed … you have all the time in the world. I want you to establish your career on your terms.”

  “This is on my terms, Dad. I don’t know why you just can’t be happy for me.” My tone is cutting, my patience finally snapping from work, and I’m aware I sound like a five-year-old brat.