Fairytale Not Required

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Fairytale Not Required Page 19

by Stephanie Rowe


  She didn’t want to be right. She wanted to be wrong.

  “I want a mother for Noah,” he admitted. “I want a woman who will be warm and loving, who will adore him and make him feel like the most important thing in the world. He’s never had that, and every kid deserves it.”

  Grim realization flickered through Astrid at his words, a sinking feeling because she knew she couldn’t live up to that standard. “What else?”

  “I want that for me, too. I want a partner who loves me beyond words, and who lets me love her beyond comprehension.” He met her gaze. “I want the fairytale, Astrid. I want a wife who comes to the store with me every day. We spend all day together at the pizza shop making our dream come true, and then we come home at night to a family. Yeah, we might argue or disagree, and I’m sure we’d drive each other mad sometimes, but in the end, we’ll all know that the love that binds us is so unconditional that we go to bed at night feeling like each other’s arms is the safest damn place in the world.”

  Astrid stared at him, overwhelmed by his vision. Yearning pulsed through her, a sense of longing so strong she felt her entire heart ache. It was beautiful and perfect. In a few short sentences, he’d articulated every dream she’d had her whole life, starting from when she was a little girl and she’d wanted that family from a child’s perspective, all the way through to this very moment, when she wanted it as a woman and a future mother.

  “Yeah, I know, babe. It would be amazing, wouldn’t it? You want it, too. I can see it in your eyes.” Jason took her hand, and pressed it to his chest, over his heart. “See, Astrid? We’re not so different, are we? Neither of us are teenagers anymore, sweetheart. We’ve both been through hell, and we know what we want, and we know when we find it. We’ve found it with each other. Stop fighting it, Astrid, and let it happen. Give us a chance.”

  Longing burned through her so intensely that her chest actually hurt. For a split second, she imagined saying ‘yes’ to him. To trusting him. To letting him into her heart. And the moment she did, she was hit with raw fear, an absolute terror of being wrong. “And what if I do, Jason? What if I let down my guard and allow myself to believe in your beautiful words of forever, and then I lose the baby?”

  Shock flashed over his face. “Don’t say that—”

  “But what if it happens? What if I lose the baby, stripping you of your dream that I can give you a family? And then you run across some woman who fits your vision? A woman with a couple kids. She’s domestic. She bakes cookies. She knows how to decorate a home.” Astrid’s throat burned as she spoke, as the truth of her shortcomings became more and more glaring. “A woman who is everything you want?”

  “Hell, Astrid, you’re everything I want—”

  “Am I?” She forced herself to speak the truth, knowing that she had to say it. “I don’t want to bake pizza, Jason. I want to design jewelry.”

  Regret flashed over his face, but then he shrugged. “We can work with that—”

  “I don’t know if I can love someone else’s child the way he would deserve. I don’t know how to bake cookies.” She met his gaze, and her heart broke at the disappointment in his eyes. “And I will run away if I think you’re going to hurt me. I don’t know how to stay, Jason. In my fantasies, I want to be the woman you yearn for, but I’m not.”

  “You could be—”

  “I’m not. That’s why I was leaving Birch Crossing, Jason. I have all these friends here, and I was still leaving. I don’t know how to stay.” Her heart aching, she peeled the fire bracelet off her wrist and handed it to him. “I made this for you, and I can’t even get this right. How could I get a partnership with you right? I can’t do it, and I won’t lie to myself or you that I can. Paul was right. I’m not that woman.”

  “Dammit, Astrid—”

  “No.” She held up her hand as she pulled open the window to go inside the house. “If you are the good guy you say you are, you won’t let the baby trick you into making promises that neither of us can keep. I’ve been through it once. I won’t do it again.” Then, before he could reply, she stepped over the window frame into the house and pulled the glass shut.

  As she reached for the shade to close it, Jason set his palm on the window. She knew he was asking her to reconsider, to give them a chance. For a split second, she placed her hand over his, and the cool glass burned her skin, reminding her of the reality of how different they were. “I can’t,” she whispered, and then she closed the shade, blocking him from her life.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jason wiped the sweat from his brow, surveying his cafe. He’d left his parents at home to watch Noah, and he hadn’t invited them to the store to help him or hang out while he organized.

  He was doing it himself, and he was doing it in time for the Fourth of July grand opening. He’d been working his ass off for almost three days straight, and the place was looking damned good. He had only thirty-six hours until opening. It wasn’t much time, but hell, he was going to make it.

  But even as his vision came into shape, Jason was grimly aware that not a single person from town had stopped in to see him in the last week. When he’d gone into Wright’s, conversation had stopped and silence had greeted him. A few people had even suggested that he move back to New York and find a woman there, which told him that the town had taken up arms to protect Astrid from him. No small town hospitality was being extended in his direction, that was for certain.

  Granted, Jason liked the fact Astrid had an entire town supporting her. It told him it was exactly the kind of town he’d hoped it was, but at the same time, being ostracized by the entire community had not been a part of his vision. He was becoming increasingly aware that unless something changed, not a damn soul would darken his threshold and patronize his store once he opened.

  He had no idea what the hell to do about it. He’d stopped by to see Astrid three times, but she had never been there. He’d called her, but she never answered her phone or returned his messages. He knew she was still living there because all her belongings were still inside, but she might as well have left, given how inaccessible she was.

  He didn’t know where she was going all the time, and it was starting to get to him. He needed to see her, to talk to her, to be in her presence. Hell, last night, he’d spent ten minutes staring at the carriage house when he’d gotten home, hoping for some sign of activity from within, but there’d been nothing. Her car had been there, but the lights had been off. Since it was three in the morning, he couldn’t bring himself to wake her up, but man, how he’d waited for some sign that she was still awake.

  Nothing. So, he’d gone to bed without talking to her yet again.

  As hard as he’d been working, it hadn’t been enough to take his mind off Astrid. He kept thinking of her past, of the yearning in her voice. He knew she wanted what he did, but at the same time… Shit. He couldn’t handle another woman who didn’t want to be a part of his life. Running a pizza store was long hours, and if his wife refused to be a part of it, it would be the same kind of marriage he’d had before. Two separate lives.

  And Noah. His son deserved a real mother. Jason couldn’t get entangled with a woman who wouldn’t love his son, like Astrid had claimed. But even as he thought it, anger roiled through him. He didn’t believe that she didn’t have the capacity to love. He just didn’t. It made no sense! He slammed the hammer down on his thumb, missing the nail, and pain shot through his hand. “Shit!”

  “Lovely language for a father,” Eppie said as she strode into the cafe. “What kind of example are you setting for your son?”

  Jason groaned at the interruption. “Listen, Eppie—”

  “The store looks much improved,” she said as she walked briskly across the newly finished floorboards. Eppie was wearing a wide-brimmed violet hat with yellow pom-poms hanging from the brim. They swung about like miniature lemons taunting him as she moved her head. “I didn’t think a city slicker would have a vision that fit with this town, but I was wrong.”
She tilted the hat back. “Nice work, Doc.”

  Jason grinned, then cocked his head to study her as a sudden idea popped into his mind. Eppie was connected to the community more than anyone he’d met. She could reach people. “I don’t suppose I could hire you to be my marketing guru? You’d be in charge of spreading the word and getting people to come here.”

  Eppie’s gray eyebrows shot up so high they disappeared under the brim of her hat. “Son, I haven’t sold my services for money in forty years. You can’t pay me for that kind of thing. The value I bring to this world far exceeds any translation to monetary value.”

  He leaned on the counter, suddenly feeling weary. “Well, then, what would it take to get your help? The whole damn town hates me.”

  “Well of course they do.” She folded her arms across her chest. “You deserve it.”

  Anger rippled through Jason, the same anger that had festered inside him for all the years of his marriage, when Kate had lashed out at him each time he’d dared to ask that she be present for some aspect of their children’s lives or their partnership. “Is that right? And why is that?”

  Eppie wandered over to the refrigerated glass case that was already holding an assortment of drinks, plus a few beers for his own consumption. “Really, Jason? You have to ask why?” She pulled open the door and helped herself to a beer, selecting the most expensive beer he had in there: a German microbrew that he’d brought up from New York.

  “Yeah, I do.” He couldn’t keep the irritation out of his voice. “And those aren’t for sale. I don’t have a liquor license.”

  She popped the top. “I wasn’t offering to buy it, so we’re all good there.” She took a long drink, and then sighed with contentment. “I have to admit, that I love Birch’s Best. It’s the best local brew in the state. But there is just something satisfying about a good German ale.” She pulled a bag of chips off the display rack and opened it. “You really should buy local with the chips, Jason. Who in town wants to buy chips made in Minnesota?”

  “They’re the best damn chips made,” he scowled. “What do you want, Eppie?” Piles of supplies were stacked on the counter behind her. He still had so many things still to set up. He didn’t have time and he wasn’t in the mood to take grief from Eppie.

  She stuck her nose into the bag and inhaled deeply. “Damn, Doc, those do smell good.”

  “Of course they do.” He gave up trying to get anything useful out of her and strode across the store. He ripped open a box of paper plates and began unloading them to the shelves beneath the front counter.

  “Astrid went to the doctor,” Eppie said.

  Jason whirled around, his heart leaping. “She did? Is everything okay?”

  “Yep. Just fine.” Eppie took a chip out of the bag and peered at it. “What are the red specks? It looks like cayenne pepper. Who in God’s name wants to eat a chip with cayenne pepper on it?”

  “Is she healthy? The baby’s fine?” He set the plates on the counter, leaning forward to study Eppie, to search her face for secrets she might not be telling him. “Did Astrid tell the doctor what had happened before? What’s the name of the doctor?” He pulled out his phone. “I’m going to look him up. I’ll make some calls to ensure he’s legit.”

  Eppie raised her brows. “You know, I think I agree with the rest of the town. You are indeed a bastard.” Then she popped the chip in her mouth, and her eyes widened with surprise. “Holy crap. These are incredible. Where in God’s green earth did you find these?”

  “I grew up with them. My aunt and uncle make them.” He was barely paying attention to the chip discussion. “What the fuck is going on with Astrid, Eppie? Tell me everything. I need to know.”

  “If you were a real man, you’d ask her yourself.”

  Jason stared at her, outrage boiling through him. Son of a bitch. He was so tired of being accused of not being enough. He’d tried so fucking hard with Kate. He’d moved his life up north for his son. He’d moved Astrid into his damn carriage house and tried repeatedly to contact her. What the hell else was he supposed to do? “I think you should leave,” he said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “I’m done with this conversation.”

  “I’m not.” Eppie ate another chip and sat down at one of the tables. “See, here’s the way I see it, Jason. Astrid is a treasure, a real treasure, but she doesn’t trust anyone. Not even me, or Clare, not really.”

  “I know that,” he said tightly. “I have work to do. You can leave.” He strode across the room and ripped open another box. Flour. Great. Some dead weight was exactly what he needed. He shouldered the cartons into the back room, relishing how fucking heavy they were.

  “No one has ever believed in her,” Eppie called out. “Even Astrid doesn’t believe in herself.”

  Jason ignored her as he began to set the bags on the shelves. How in the hell did the fact Astrid had problems make him the bad guy? He’d fucking tried.

  “She can’t even design jewelry anymore,” Eppie said, her voice carrying into the rear of the store with surprising ease. “Her spirit is broken.”

  Jason rested his forehead against the cool metal of the shelves, too drained to keep working. “So, what’s your point?”

  Eppie walked into the back room, still munching on the chips. “My point, Jason, is that you’re a bastard because you gave up on her.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Just like you gave up on your marriage.”

  Jason scowled. “I didn’t give up on my marriage,” he snapped. “Don’t go there, Eppie. I’ve had enough of this conversation.”

  “Even though you went through the actions of trying, you gave up in your heart. That’s where it counts. All the words and actions in the world can’t make up for a lack of faith.” She raised her brows. “It’s not the marriage that was the problem, Jason. It’s not Astrid. It’s you. You have no heart left. You have nothing to give Astrid, or your son, or even this store. You just want to bleed it all dry and use it to hold you up because you can’t hold yourself up anymore.”

  Jason stared at her. “Fuck that,” he snapped. “I’ve been holding up the damn world. I’ve given it everything I have.”

  Eppie raised her brows, raised the empty bag of chips and let the crumbs drop all over his new floor. “No, you haven’t. You’ve got shit, Jason Sarantos, and until you figure that out, you’ll never have anything more. Including Astrid.” Then she dropped the bag and walked out.

  Jason stared after her, fury roiling inside him. How dare she accuse him of giving up? She had no idea about his marriage, or Lucas, or anything.

  She was wrong.

  She was so damn wrong.

  But he didn’t move. He didn’t unpack another box. He didn’t make any plans for his grand opening.

  He just stood there in his back room, alone.

  Always alone.

  Even in his marriage, he’d been alone.

  And in this store…he looked around at the dream he’d worked so hard to achieve, at the polished wood, the shiny fixtures, the well-organized shelves of ingredients and supplies, and suddenly, it didn’t look like the key to a new life, a new future.

  It looked like nothing.

  *

  “What are you doing?”

  Astrid jumped at the small voice right behind her. She spun around to see Noah standing in her living room. The boy’s blond hair was sticking out from under a Yankees cap, and he was wearing a New York Jets football jersey. His blue eyes were fixed on hers without reservation, with the unabashed curiosity of a six year old.

  She glanced at the moving box she was filling up. “I’m…um…rearranging.”

  Noah looked around the room. “It looks like you’re moving. We had boxes like that when we moved up here.”

  She thought of Noah tattling to Jason, and quickly shook her head. “Oh, no, I’m unpacking.” She took her new lamp from Emma out of the quilt she’d wrapped it in so carefully. “See?” She set it on the kitchen counter. “What do y
ou think? Does it look good there?”

  Noah tilted his head to study it. “No. It looks too fancy for a kitchen. A kitchen should be stainless steel so you can keep it clean.”

  Astrid stifled a smile. “Stainless steel, huh? Is that what you had in New York?”

  “Yep.” Noah eyed the fridge. “I’m thirsty. Do you have any juice?”

  “Um, sure.” Astrid hurried over to the fridge and peered inside to see what Clare and Emma had left her. “I have ice tea and orange juice.”

  “Orange, please.” Noah perched on a kitchen chair while she poured it. “My mom liked stainless steel.”

  “Did she?” Astrid set the juice in front of him, suddenly feeling awkward. What did one say to a child who had lost a parent? “I bet she loved you a lot.”

  Noah studied her. “Maria loves me a lot,” he said. “She cried when we left.”

  “Maria?” Astrid glanced restlessly at the boxes she still needed to pack. She had to get the open ones out of sight before Jason came home, in case he came in. He hadn’t yet, but he’d waited in the driveway last night for what felt like forever. He’d sat there watching her house, no doubt waiting for a sign that she was still awake. She’d barely gotten her light out in time after she’d heard his car arriving, and she’d sat in the darkness for so long, waiting for him to give up.

  It had taken him a long time, and she’d wanted desperately to open the door and invite him in. She’d wanted to stop fighting her need to see him. To stop trying to be smart and practical by keeping her heart protected from him. “Who’s Maria?’

  “My nanny.” Noah took a gulp of the orange juice. “We used to go to the movies every Friday, and she let me order the big popcorn.” He sighed, a big shaky sigh that made Astrid’s heart tighten. “I miss Maria,” he said softly.

  “Oh, sweetie.” Astrid sat down at the table, her heart aching for the tears brimming in his eyes. She remembered so clearly what it was like to be six and trying to find her way in a new place. She’d moved to Kansas City on her sixth birthday, moving into an apartment that didn’t allow animals. “I had a kitten when I was five,” she said. “Her name was Chocolate Chip. I had to leave her behind when I moved, and I missed her so much.”

 

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