by Dover, L. P.
Logan walks alongside me and says, hey to the kids he knows as we stroll past them. The main strip of downtown is blocked off for the parade, but there are game booths and food vendors scattered throughout the park.
I nudge him with my elbow. “Want to play some games?”
He smirks up at me. “I’ll beat you.”
“We’ll see about that.” We stop at the ticket booth, and I buy ten dollars’ worth of tickets, which will only let us play about two games each. We have to throw a baseball to knock down the three stacked milk bottles the first game we come to. I hand the man our tickets, and he gives me the baseball first. I already know I’m going to lose. Logan knows how to throw a football precisely at his teammates. A baseball isn’t going to be much different. Also, sports were never my thing until Logan came along.
Taking a deep breath, I let it out slow and throw the ball as hard as possible. Of course, it flies right past the bottles and misses them. Logan bursts out laughing and doubles over from cackling so hard. “Mom, that sucked.”
I wave him off. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I know you’re going to beat me.”
Logan gets into his stance and keeps his eyes on the bottles. He has the same look on his face that he gets when he’s playing football—concentrated and focused on the target. He rears back and lets the ball go, connecting right in the center of the bottles, all three of them falling to the ground.
The people around us hoot and holler at his triumph, and he loves every minute of it. When it comes time for him to pick his prize, there are dozens of different choices like stuffed bears, unicorns, turkeys, hearts, and anything you could imagine at a festival. However, he points at a smiling, stuffed avocado, and when the man behind the booth hands it to him, he gives it to me. “For you.”
Loving it, I hug it to my chest. “Why the avocado?”
He shrugs. “You eat a lot of them. Thought you’d like it.”
I wrap my arm around his shoulders and squeeze. “I love it. Thanks, Logi-Bear.”
Eyes wide, he jerks his head around. “Shh … don’t call me that here. Someone might hear you.”
“Sorry,” I giggle. We start toward another game booth, but then I see a familiar face out of the corner of my eye. My smile immediately disappears, and I grab Logan’s arm. Kyler is standing at one of the booths where they’re selling grills, and I don’t think he’s seen us yet.
“Mom, what’s wrong?”
I point toward a booth that’s across the park. “Let’s go that way.”
He shakes his head. “But I want to stop at these first before the parade starts.”
The last thing I want is to get stopped by Kyler. I just have to hope and pray he doesn’t notice me. Turning my back toward him, I go with Logan to the ring toss game booth. Logan uses my ticket so he can play twice. And, of course, he takes his time. I don’t want to look behind me, so I keep my eyes focused on the game. That is until I hear his voice.
“Hi, Maeve. I was hoping I’d see you here.”
Logan turns to him and then looks up at me, wondering why I haven’t responded. Blowing out a silent sigh, I face Kyler. My eyes go instantly to his leg, but I can’t see his knee because of his jeans.
“Hi there. How’s your knee?” I don’t want to look at his hypnotic blue eyes, but I can’t stare at his leg the entire time. Yesterday was easy because I had to help him. Today, I have no excuse.
Kyler shrugs. “It hurts to walk. I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”
His crutches are nowhere in sight. “What happened to your crutches?”
Kyler chuckles and looks away. “Trust me. I walk better without them.”
Logan taps my arm. “Oliver and Jacob are by the hot dog stand. Can I go over there?” Oliver and Jacob are Jeremy’s twin boys. That means Jeremy and Kaylee are somewhere at the festival. I could use their help right now.
My heart races, and I want to latch onto Logan’s arm to keep him by my side, but when his friends see him, they wave him over. “Fine,” I give in. “You can go.”
“Wait,” Kyler calls out. He pulls out an unlimited festival pass and hands it to Logan. “I bought this, but I don’t have any use for it. You can play as many games as you want.”
Logan gasps and beams up at him. “Thanks!”
Kyler looks down at his Ravens hat. “You a football fan?”
“The biggest,” Logan replies. “I’m quarterback for the peewee team.”
“So was I,” Kyler says. “I was also a quarterback for my high school as well.”
The last thing I want is Logan getting advice from Kyler, the number one douchebag from my high school. “Your friends are waiting for you, sweetheart,” I tell him.
Logan nods and smiles again at Kyler. “Bye.”
Once Logan’s gone, my number one goal is to get away from Kyler. “It was nice seeing you again, Kyler. Hope you enjoy the parade.” I start to walk off, but then Kyler hisses and hunches over, grabbing at his knee. As much as I despise him, the paramedic in me can’t just leave him like that. I grab his wrist and wrap his arm around my shoulders to help give him support. “Here, let me help you.”
I reach around his waist with his arm around my shoulders and slowly move him over to an empty picnic table. He sits down and stretches out his leg, grunting in pain. “Thanks for helping me. Guess I shouldn’t have left my crutches in the car.”
It figures he’d leave them. “Do you want me to grab them for you?” I offer.
He shakes his head. “No, thanks. I’ll be fine.”
“Have you iced it the way I told you to?”
His lips pull back in that familiar smile of his. “I did. It helped me a lot.” The sound of horns echoes down the street, signaling the parade has begun. Great. It’s too late to disappear across the street to head down to my car. “How have you been?” he asks.
I keep my eyes on the parade floats. “Fine.”
“Some of the ladies at the bank said you moved back to town after your divorce. I’m sorry to hear that.”
I scoff but bite back the snarky comment I was going to make. I’m pretty sure he could care less about my divorce. “Are you sure you don’t want me to get your crutches?” I ask, hoping to change the subject. “I can help you to your car so you can leave.”
Kyler throws his head back and laughs. “Are you trying to get rid of me?” He stares at me, but I don’t respond. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him slowly stand. My stomach clenches with guilt, and I feel somewhat bad for being a bitch, even though I shouldn’t. I should be the bigger person and not hold grudges, but sometimes, it’s easier said than done. “I hope you have a good day, Maeve. Maybe I’ll see you again tomorrow.”
He hobbles off, and I can’t help but watch him. My mom walks down the path into the park right by him, and she stops to talk to him, smiling and carrying on as if she was his best friend. Mouth gaping, I watch them laugh together. What the hell is going on there? When she sees me, she waves and hurries over.
“Hey, honey.”
I point at Kyler. “What were you doing talking to Kyler Groff?”
She holds a hand over her heart. “He’s just the sweetest thing. I have an appointment with him at the bank to change over my money to a different retirement account.”
“And that requires you to be friends?” I ask incredulously. “Him and his friends were dicks in high school. I can’t stand him.”
Her face falls. “People change, Maeve. The boy’s been through a lot.”
I scoff. “He still seems like the arrogant ass I’ve always known him to be.”
She pats my hand. “Oh, no, honey. He’s not. Do you not know what happened to him after high school?”
“I made it a point not to know,” I answer. “I didn’t care.”
Her gaze saddens. “For starters, he got hurt when he went off to college. It ruined his football career.”
“Am I supposed to feel sorry for him?”
She shakes her head. “That’s jus
t the beginning. I won’t go into detail, but I want you to know he hasn’t had an easy life.”
Neither have I, but you don’t see me asking for pity. I have sympathy for those who deserve it. Kyler Groff is not one of them.
4
Kyler
I’m turning into a stalker, and I can’t even justify my actions. I also have no excuse for what I’m doing. Ever since I saw Maeve at the Turkey Trot and ended up in her tent, she’s on my mind. In every which way possible, even though I’ve never seen her naked. When I went home to nurse my injury, I pulled my high school yearbooks out and looked her up. At first, I had to do a double-take because there was no way in hell the woman I saw at the festival and the one in my yearbook was the same. Paramedic Maeve is beautiful and flawless with expressive features. The girl in the black and white picture is—well, for lack of a better word—plain.
After hours of looking through the pages and doing a deep dive on social media, I gave up. Maeve was going to remain an enigma until I could find a way to spend more time with her. One thought I had, I would find a reason to call her from the bank with some made-up issue with her account, but she doesn’t use my bank.
Who the hell doesn’t use my bank?
Maeve, that’s who, but her mother does, and she’s one of my best customers. Each time she comes in, she’s bright-eyed and has the best smile. Although I’m a bit salty, she never told me she had a daughter. Not that I asked, but you’d think that would be something Mrs. Jenkins shared with her favorite bank manager.
As soon as I saw Maeve at the festival with her son, I put my plan into motion. I exaggerated the limp as best I could in hopes of catching her attention. There’s no doubt my knee hurts, but hell, it always hurts. Once you have your knee sliced open and your ligaments reattached, there is no way to escape any type of pain. There are times when I’m strolling around the bank, thinking I’m cool as shit, and then bam, my knee gives out. Of course, I look around to see who notices, but none of my employees ever let me know they saw me stumble.
It was stupid of me to enter the race. I knew better, but I am tired of sitting on the sideline and letting an old college injury rule my life. Yes, I had started working out again and feel great, but running on a treadmill is different from running on the road. I knew this and ignored the warnings. And boy, am I glad I did because my injury gave me the easiest excuse to not only talk to Maeve but to continue to do so.
“Ky, over here.” I look toward the sound of my name and internally grimace. Waving me over is my best friend from high school, Jared Duffy. It’s not that I don’t like him. It’s that he’s married and has a set of twins, and I’m jealous. There used to be a time in my life when I was on the same path as Jared. My ex, Tessa, ruined that for me.
“Hey, Jared.” I give him a bro hug and then kiss his wife, Imani, on her cheek. Their twins sit in front, in their little folding chairs, not paying attention to their parents. “So, how are things?” I ask. Jared went off to college down south and stayed after graduation. It’s where he met his wife, who prefers the warm winters over the cold, bitter ones we have in Plymouth.
“Good, good,” he says. “Mom isn’t doing too well, so we’re here until after the New Year. We want to give her one last Christmas with everyone home.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll stop by and say hi soon.”
“She’d like that. What’s new?”
I shake my head slowly. “Honestly, not much. I work, go to the gym, hang out at Dan’s Pub a few nights a week. Small town living at its best.” It hits me hard how mundane my life is and that running in the race yesterday was a highlight of—well, I don’t remember the last time I did something out of the ordinary. I need to pull myself from this funk or whatever it is and start living my life.
“Are you happy?” Imani asks. I used to be happy. I thought my life was going in the direction I had always imagined until Tessa ripped my heart out, stopped on it until it stopped beating, and then handed it back to me with nothing more than a “sorry.”
I chuckle. “I’m content.”
“Not dating anyone?” she asks.
Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Maeve and her son. Right behind her are her parents. She turns and says something to her mother, but then she looks at Logan, and her expression changes from what I’d say was happy to pure and utter joy.
“Who are you looking at?” Jared asks.
I shake my head but can’t take my eyes off Maeve. “Do you know Maeve Jenkins?” I ask Jared. His head goes back and forth.
“Name doesn’t ring a bell.”
Slowly, I raise my hand and extend my finger to point across the road. “We went to high school with her. She graduated the same year we did.”
Jared stares for a long moment. “Nope, her face doesn’t look familiar. She’s hot, though.” Jared makes a sound after Imani whacks him. “Sorry,” he mumbles. He leans down and kisses his wife. I turn away, not wanting to see their somewhat private moment. This gives me more time to stare across the street at Maeve. She’s watching the parade, pointing to floats, and leans down often to talk to her son. I almost had that—a child—until Tessa took it away from me.
I end up staying with Jared and his family until the parade is over. When I was little, I loved this thing. By the time I hit puberty, girls were far more important, and we used this time to go make out on the carnival rides or at the ballpark. Now that I’m an adult, I see the allure. The Town of Plymouth does an excellent job putting this festival together, and I’m happy my bank is now one of the major sponsors.
When the parade is over, and I’ve said goodbye to Jared with the promise of stopping by to see his mom, I finally hobble my way back to my car. I’m surprised to run into Mrs. Jenkins on my way.
“How are you feeling?” she asks. “Maeve mentioned you should be on crutches.”
She talks about me! On the inside, I’m a giddy schoolboy because the pretty girl is worried about me. On the outside, I’m calm and stoic. “I was just heading to my car and about to go home. I would’ve had them earlier, but I ran into an old friend.”
“Well, Maeve said you should be off your feet. That you need to rest.”
“Yes, she mentioned this earlier.”
“You know what, you should come over for dinner tonight. I know Tom has been trying to get into the bank to see you about his retirement, and you and Maeve can catch up without everyone vying for your attention.”
Dinner at the Jenkins? Sign me up!
“That would save me a trip to the grocery store. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to push a cart and use those crutches Maeve gave me.”
“Nonsense.” Mrs. Jenkins touches my forearm, squeezing it a bit. “Come over about half-past five.”
“Can I bring anything?”
She shakes her head and waves me off. “Just your bubbly personality. Maeve will be happy to see you.” With that, Mrs. Jenkins walks off and leaves me in the parking lot with a million and one thoughts running through my mind. Maeve wants to see me and has been talking to her mom about me. That means she’s interested. If I know anything about women and dating, once they start talking to their moms about someone, it means they want to get to know the other person. This stupid injury was worth it if I get to spend time with Maeve, and even though Mrs. Jenkins said not to bring anything, I think I’ll bring a bottle of wine. Maeve and I can share it later.
On the way back to my house, I start to wonder about Maeve’s living arrangements. With her not using my bank, it’s been very hard for me to snoop into her life, so I can’t tell where she’s living and am going on the assumption that she lives with her parents. It does make sense—her living there. She’s recently divorced, and from what I hear, Maeve's husband is entirely out of the picture. This leads me to believe she’s living with her folks.
Teenage bedroom.
Within seconds my mind is in the gutter as I picture a pink frilly bedspread, white bed frame, pom poms . . . no
pe, scratch that. The room I’m thinking about is Tessa’s because that is the only teenage girl’s room I have ever seen. I shudder and clear my thoughts. She’s the last person I want to think about.
As soon as I get home, I feed my cat and then let him out while I jump into the shower. Undoubtedly when it’s time for Tom to come back in, he’ll have a bird or some other creature hanging from his mouth as he greets me at the door. Tom, a big orange cat, adopted me when he was about eight weeks or so. He showed up on my doorstep and wouldn’t leave. I made the mistake of feeding him, and that made him my best friend for life. I don’t mind, though, because he’s gotten me through some dark times and did so without passing judgment. He always knows when I need space or when I need him to lay next to me and purr.
While I dress for dinner at the Jenkins, Tom lays on my bed. He fluffs his tail and lets out a long, drawn-out meow.
“Don’t look at me like that. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”
Meow.
“Her name is Maeve, and it’s the strangest thing. We went to school together, but I don’t remember her at all. I wish I had.”
Meow.
“I know, I know. I haven’t dated since Tessa, and you’re right, it’s time.” I sit on the edge of the bed and push my fingers over Tom’s soft coat. He purrs loudly and stands so he can come closer to me. “She has a little boy. I think you’d like him.”
Hiss.