“You have nothing to apologize for. I didn’t have to share that with you, if I didn’t want to.”
He reached up and gently fingered a stray curl out of her eyes. “So why did you?”
“I don’t know.” She gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I just feel like...you’re easy to talk to.” She smiled, thinking of his earlier revelation. “You remind me of your mother. Easygoing, friendly. I’ll miss her.”
“Me, too. I’m just glad she got a chance to know you. And the kids. I bet she adored Emma. Max already told me about the whipped cream bit.”
“He lit up around her. Hard to believe we’ll never see her again.” When he didn’t respond, she met his gaze, her heart heavy with empathy. “I’m sorry, I…probably need to quit talking.”
“You didn’t say anything wrong. I’m just suffering from a guilty conscience.”
“Why? I mean…do you want to talk about it?”
Caleb blew out a hard breath, and for a moment she didn’t think he would comment. “Just the usual stuff, I guess. Wish I’d visited more, wish I’d called more often.”
“I’m sure Rosalee knew how much you loved her.” Lauren smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring way. She stirred her sauce, then dug her big aluminum pot out of the cabinet and began filling it with water.
Caleb nodded, though he seemed less than convinced. Lauren wondered if maybe it went deeper than he was letting on. “Thanks.” He nodded toward the stove. “So, you need help with anything?”
A bloodcurdling scream rent the air. “Emma!” Lauren smacked the faucet down and raced out the back door, Caleb right on her heels.
Emma sat curled up in the grass, sobbing her heart out, while Max hovered over her frantically insisting, “Let me see ’em, Em! Come on, I have to see how bad it is!”
“How bad what is?” Lauren demanded as she dropped to her knees beside her baby and tried to figure out where she was hurt.
Caleb grabbed Max by the arm and helped him to his feet. “Come on, son, let your mother in there.”
Lauren pulled Emma onto her lap. “Sweetheart, you have to calm down and tell me what happened,” she crooned. “Show Momma, honey.”
Emma lifted a shaky hand up for Lauren’s inspection, her hysterical cries winding down to hiccupping sobs. Lauren had to hold back a sob of her own when she saw the condition of her daughter’s fingers. The skin was cherry red with black bits stuck to her flesh that looked suspiciously like ashes.
Lauren shot Max a look as she scooped Emma into her arms. “What in the world happened? It looks like she burned her fingers.” Without waiting for an answer, she ran back into the house and turned on the kitchen faucet. Emma screamed to the heavens when Lauren pressed her little fingers under the cool running water. Lauren had to bite her lip to keep her composure. Nothing in this world was worse than watching your child suffer. And Lord only knew how bad the damage was. But what could she have burned herself on? Had she found a pack of matches in the house somewhere?
“I’ll drive you to the ER,” Caleb said as he and Max entered behind her. “Wrap a clean dishtowel around her hand. Maybe apply some Vaseline or Neosporin first, if you have any.” He rushed over to the stove and turned off the burner, then asked Max to go grab Lauren’s purse.
“How is she?” Caleb asked, peering over her shoulder.
Lauren cast him a quick glance. “Did you see anything lying in the grass? I’m afraid she may have found a pack of matches somewhere. I have a few in the drawer for when the stove pilot goes out.”
Caleb rushed out the back door and returned a minute later, his expression grim. He held up a smoldering cigarette butt, which didn’t make a lick of sense since Lauren didn’t smoke. Neither did Carrie, or the Glockmans, who lived on the other side of her.
Caleb doused it in the sink and pitched it in the trash. “It’d be my guess she picked it up by the lit end, which would explain the charred bits stuck to her fingers.”
Max finally showed up with his mother’s purse and asked, “Is she all right?”
“Her fingers are burnt. Care to tell me how that happened?”
Max cast a quick, almost pleading glance at Caleb, who responded, “Come on, we’d better get Emma to the ER.”
Chapter Six
Once Lauren and Emma were admitted into the ER, Caleb clasped Max’s shoulder. “Time to tell me how Emma’s fingers got burned.” He fed a dollar bill into the coffee machine and pressed the button for hot chocolate. Christ, if he’d told Lauren right away about the pack of smokes he’d found in Max’s “stuck” bottom drawer, this never would’ve happened. And at Rowdy’s he’d been caught trying to buy a pack of cigarettes, but again Caleb had given him the benefit of the doubt. They’d made such progress that night—Max had actually opened up to him—Caleb had been sure the kid’s self-destructive phase was over, and there was no reason to upset Lauren.
Guilt and frustration ate at him. That sweet little girl was in pain because of his poor choices. The urge to put his fist through the wall nearly overpowered him. He flexed his fingers and took a deep, calming breath before turning to face Max.
“It wasn’t mine, I swear!”
“Sit down.” Caleb held out the piping hot paper cup. “And be careful. Your mother couldn’t handle another accident right now.” Caleb sat down beside him. “Now tell me what happened, and don’t even think about trying to con me.”
“This dude named Bucky showed up and wanted me to go with him to the park to meet up with Eddie and Jimbo. When he lit up, I told him to put it out, but he wouldn’t listen. Then he flicked it in the yard, and Emma ran over and picked it up before I could stop her.” Max’s face screwed up with anger. “Bucky’s gonna be sorry when I catch up with him!”
Caleb sat down next to him. “Calm down. Let’s just pray Emma’s fingers aren’t as bad as they looked.”
“You believe me, don’t you? I wasn’t smoking.” Looking into Max’s eyes, Caleb had no doubt the boy was telling the truth. But it didn’t lessen Caleb’s own guilt. “I believe you. But we have to tell your mother what happened.”
“No way! She’ll totally freak out, say I can’t hang out with any of my friends anymore, give me some stupid curfew.”
“You’re ten, Max. You should have a curfew.”
“Yeah, but she wants me in by eight o’clock. During the summer.”
Caleb would’ve laughed if the situation hadn’t been so dire.
Thirty minutes later, Lauren appeared through the double doors carrying a very sleepy Emma. Caleb watched with interest as one of the paramedics strode up to Lauren, his familiarity and concern unmistakable. After a short exchange, he gave Emma a kiss on the forehead, Lauren’s shoulder a squeeze, and walked out of the hospital with his fellow EMTs.
Caught off guard by an overwhelming rush of jealousy, Caleb shot to his feet. His face grew hot and an unreasonable urge to race out after the guy and beat the hell out of him took hold. So this is what the green-eyed monster feels like. The unfamiliar emotion was not a welcome one.
Once they were in the car on the way home, Lauren touched his leg and said, “I want to thank you for jumping in and taking care of us. I don’t know what I would’ve done if not for you.”
“You would’ve handled the situation just fine. Luckily, Emma’s burns weren’t as bad as they looked.”
“I know.” She peeked over her shoulder at her sleeping daughter.
He was already attached to the lot of them, and it struck him with the force of a freight train that he had no idea how Lauren even felt about him. Jesus, he was half in love with her, and she may be feeling nothing more than gratitude. Caleb let his frustration out on a silent breath as he recalled the adoring way she’d gazed up at that paramedic.
“You okay?” Lauren asked him.
He shot her a quick glance, praying his expression didn’t give away his inner turmoil. “Yeah. Just remembered I have a few phone calls to make when I get home.”
“Oh. I’m sorry we kept
you so long. I’d still plan to make the lasagna, but maybe we should save it for tomorrow?”
Caleb glanced back at Max who looked thoroughly miserable with his hangdog expression and slumped shoulders. While Caleb hated keeping the cigarette situation from Lauren even a minute longer, maybe the talk could keep until tomorrow as well. She’d be in a better frame of mind—less likely to lock Max in his room and throw away the key.
“I agree. You need to take care of Emma tonight, and I need to take care of some business.” He pulled into her driveway and killed the engine. “I’ll carry Emma into the house for you.”
“Thanks, but I can get her. Max, grab my purse, please.”
Caleb walked them to the door. “I’ll call tomorrow, see how Emma’s doing. Find out what time you want me over for supper.” He gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “She’ll be fine. She’s already sleeping, and the pain medicine will make sure she sleeps comfortably.”
Lauren looked up at him with something that resembled a smile. “I know. Thanks again, for everything. See you tomorrow.”
“Count on it.” He ruffled Max’s hair, earning a frown from the boy. “You help your mother tonight. She’ll need it.”
Max gnawed on the inside of his cheek and gave a curt nod.
Walking away when he wanted to wrap his arms around all three of them was no easy feat. But Lauren would have her hands full tonight, and Caleb needed some time to think. He was in way over his head, and he knew it.
He took the scenic route through town so he could drive past Hutch’s Diner. Caleb didn’t know why he tortured himself. Maybe it was the vision of his mother in her polyester pink uniform, bringing him a chocolate malted topped with a mountain of whipped cream while he did his homework to the strains of Guns N’ Roses, Stone Temple Pilots, and Nirvana.
Caleb found himself turning into the parking lot and pulling into the spot that Hutch had declared reserved only for Rosalee. Caleb had loved Hutch as a kid, following him around like an eager puppy, helping out in the kitchen, living on cheeseburgers and the best fries in town.
Until the day he’d come home early from school and caught his mother and Hutch having sex in his parents’ bed.
Someone rapped on the driver’s side window, snapping Caleb from his musings. He glanced up and was transported twenty years back in time. Hutch stood beside his truck, hands in his pockets, looking…weary. His graying, near-black hair was now completely silver, he’d lost weight, and his face seemed drawn. He looked like...an old man. A sad old man. Caleb rolled his window down.
“Heard you’d stayed in town,” Hutch said.
Caleb nodded. He stared out the windshield for a moment, then swallowed his pride and met the older man’s gaze. “Thinking about staying permanently.”
“Your mother’d be happy.”
A reluctant grin touched Caleb’s mouth. Ed Hutchington, man of few words. “Hope so. Listen, can we talk? There are a few things I think are long overdue to be said.”
Hutch nodded and took a step back. “I’ll go pour us some coffee.”
As soon as Caleb walked through the front door of the diner, he felt his mother’s presence everywhere. The diner had about ten customers, and he smiled when a waitress walked by carrying a cheeseburger plate piled high with French fries. Caleb’s stomach rumbled. He hadn’t had a thing to eat since his breakfast. He strode up to the counter and slid onto a stool. The aroma of Hutch’s fresh-brewed coffee was a pleasure Caleb had missed over the years. Even before he’d acquired a taste for coffee, he’d always loved the smell. Hutch set two cups down and filled them with the steaming brew.
“Can I throw you on a cheeseburger?”
“That’d be great, thanks.” Caleb could almost see his mother’s tearful smile as the two men she’d loved most in the world took a step toward forgiveness.
With a nod, Hutch headed into the kitchen. Caleb stirred some creamer and a little sugar into his coffee before taking a cautious sip. He smiled. Heaven in a cup. A photo scotch-taped to the wall above the cash register caught his eye. His mother stood in front of a wooden Indian, a big pair of sunglasses perched on her head, her sunburned nose crinkled in playful annoyance at whoever was taking the picture. Hutch, no doubt. They’d loved to take little road trips, and this picture smacked of Wisconsin Dells. Rosalee Hunter had had a sweet tooth a mile wide, and her favorite chocolate shop in all the Midwest was right in the heart of the Dells.
“Took that back in May. Drove down just for some fudge. She really loved that stuff.”
Caleb hadn’t heard Hutch walk up. The older man stared at the picture, his heart in his eyes. Caleb knew it took a lot for him to hold it together, especially in front of Caleb. Hutch had loved Rosalee very much. “I remember. Drove her there a time or two myself.”
Hutch swiped his nose with his knuckles, then picked up his coffee and took a sip. “So, you doing okay?”
“Can’t complain. I’m taking the electrician’s exam next Friday. It’ll save me a lot of money not to have to subcontract.”
“True.” Hutch cleared his throat, drummed his fingers on the counter. He obviously wanted to say something, but probably couldn’t find the right words.
Caleb was having the same problem.
“I’d better go flip your burger.”
Caleb heard the hiss and pop of the deep fryer as Hutch lowered the fries into the hot oil. He returned a minute later. “Four minutes.”
“It’s been a long time. I’ve missed those fries.”
“I know.”
“The cheeseburgers, too,” Caleb added. “Best in Redemption.”
“Best in the state,” Hutch corrected with just the slightest trace of a grin.
“No arguments here.”
“I loved her, you know.”
Caleb’s pulse quickened. He suddenly felt fourteen again. “She loved you, too.”
Hutch gave a curt nod. Their gazes locked. Caleb knew it was time. Time to say what should’ve been said while his mother was still alive. “I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am. I acted like an immature fool—”
“You acted like anyone your age would’ve, and with good reason. Though the fish heads hidden in my storage room were a bit much. Took us weeks to figure out what stunk so bad.” A huge grin split the older man’s face.
Caleb chuckled. “I was too young to kick your ass. It seemed like the best alternative.”
“Your mother laughed herself sick over that one.”
A young waitress who couldn’t have been more than twenty walked up and set a steaming plate in front of Caleb. Man, he couldn’t even count how many dreams he’d had over the past couple of decades featuring this big ol’ plate of paradise.
“Thanks.” He reached for the bottle of ketchup, squirted a pile next to the fries, and dipped one in. “Mmm, even better than I remembered.” He took a huge bite of his cheeseburger next, and it was like a religious experience.
“Is it true you’ve been seeing Lauren Frazier?”
Caleb nearly choked on his food. He swallowed and shook his head with a reluctant chuckle. “I swear, it never ceases to amaze me how fast gossip travels in this town.”
“So it’s true?”
“We’ve...become friends. Why? Is this a problem?”
“Course not. Your mother adored Lauren and those kids.”
“I heard. They didn’t know Mom had passed.”
Hutch took a sip of his coffee. “They haven’t been in for a while, and your mom...it was sudden. No warning.”
Caleb dropped his eyes to his plate. “I know.” He blew out a hard breath. “I’d been planning to come up soon. Wish I’d let her know, maybe—”
“Son, don’t even say it. You’re not psychic. Your mother knew you loved her, and that’s what matters.”
Caleb met the older man’s gaze. “Thanks, Hutch.”
He waved it off. “Hurry up and finish your food. I have a couple of steps I need you to replace for me.”
“Yes, si
r.” Caleb took another bite of his cheeseburger, his heart lighter than it’d been in years.
Chapter Seven
“So, are you taking the kids to the fair?”
Lauren gave Mrs. Langhart’s silver bob one last squirt of hairspray, and then handed her a mirror. “I have plans tonight, so maybe tomorrow. I might let Max go for a couple hours later with his friends.”
Mrs. Langhart held the mirror up and examined Lauren’s work from every angle twice over. Lauren resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
“Make sure you pat him down before you let him out the door.”
“Pardon me?”
The older woman glanced furtively around, then lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Max and those hoodlum friends of his left a bunch of butts on the sidewalk in front of my house.”
Lauren froze. “Are you saying Max has been smoking?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. They’re like little sailors out there, smoking and cussing. Larry had to shoo them away just the other night.”
No fricken way. It couldn’t be true. Max was only ten years old, for God’s sake, a little boy. Then Lauren remembered Caleb had found a cigarette butt in the backyard, and her heart constricted. “Mrs. Langhart, I am so sorry. I had no idea any of this was going on. I appreciate you bringing it to my attention.”
Mrs. Langhart gave Lauren’s hand a pat. “You have your hands full with that one, my dear. Maybe the handsome carpenter you’ve been dating can help keep that boy of yours in line.”
“Oh, we’re not dating. Caleb was kind enough to make some minor repairs in exchange for a few home-cooked meals.”
“Uh-huh,” the older woman said with a knowing smirk. “Well, your Caleb is quite a looker. And take it from me, honey, he’s not coming around for your cooking, as delicious as it no doubt is.”
Lauren’s cheeks grew hot. She resisted the urge to reach up and feel them.
Mrs. Langhart climbed off the chair and retrieved her wallet from her purse. “Here.” She stuffed some money into Lauren’s hand and folded her fingers around it. “Take this and buy yourself a new pair of high heels. Nothing like a sexy pair of shoes to give a man ideas.” She winked at Lauren, grasped her purse, and slipped out the front door.
A Fair of the Heart Page 5