Once inside the restaurant, he didn’t want to talk about his missed opportunity anymore. The smoky, mesquite-tinged air told of frying bacon, causing his stomach to rumble. A black and white checkered floor and wainscoted walls surrounded about twenty small tables—half of which were filled with patrons. Behind a glass pie case, he noticed a chalkboard labeled “Specials.” Fried chicken and waffles, steak and eggs, BBQ pork sandwiches and fried green tomatoes. If he stayed here long, his cholesterol would shoot up fifty points.
An African-American woman in jeans and a T-shirt called out from behind the cash register. “Y’all seat yourself. Menus are on the table.”
He selected a spot by the window, like he always did. He’d hoped there’d be more sunshine this far south, but winter had a far-reaching grasp. Picking up one of the laminated menus, he noticed Beth ogling another diner’s food rather than reading the offerings.
She pointed at a waffle topped with strawberries and whipped cream being devoured by a heavy-set man in overalls at the next table. “That looks sinful.”
The waitress shuffled over to them. Even though she looked too old to have a job where she was on her feet all day, she offered them a friendly grin. “My name’s Della. What’ll y’all have?”
He gestured toward Beth. “Are you ready to order?”
“I’ll take a bowl of oatmeal please.”
Della shifted her weight. “I’m afraid we don’t have oatmeal. I could bring you some grits, though.”
“What are grits?”
“They’re kind of like cream of wheat but made with corn.”
Tilting her head, Beth seemed to consider this. “Do you put butter in them?”
“Only if you want ‘em to taste good.” Della grinned.
“I’ll try them plain with a cup of coffee, black.”
He shook his head and looked at Della. “What she meant to say was she wants the strawberry waffle.”
Beth picked up the menu that she hadn’t bothered to look at and placed it in the holder above the salt and pepper shakers. “What I want and what I should eat are two very different things. That’s why I didn’t dare to look at all of the temptations I know they probably have here.”
Della’s eyes danced from his face to Beth’s. “Tell me about it, girl. A minute on the lips. . .” She slapped her side. “forevah on the hips.”
He raised his finger to Beth. “It’s my treat and I insist you get the waffle. If you want to order grits, too, that’s fine. Personally, I never miss the opportunity to dine on biscuits and gravy while I’m south of the Mason-Dixon line. I hope we’re not being too difficult, Della.”
The waitress pretended to write on an invisible notepad. “No problem. Waffles, grits, biscuits and gravy. Got it.” They all laughed as she sauntered back to the kitchen. A moment later, she returned to pour coffee into their mugs.
While they waited for their meal, their conversation focused on the ordinary—the local businesses visible through the window, the waitress’ homey accent, and the diner’s antique tin ceiling. He liked the casual, mundane nature of these topics. Last night he and Beth had become too close. He wasn’t ready to let go of his anger. He needed to rebuild that wall between them.
Ten minutes later, when Della delivered their meals, Parker didn’t even pick up his fork. Instead, he watched Beth take one bite of the yellow, mushy grits before pushing them aside. She cut a little square of golden dough, then created a kebob with a strawberry, waffle and another berry, dipped in cream. Slowly she slid them between her lips. She closed her eyes and moaned.
He imagined the sweetness bursting against his own taste buds and almost regretted his selection. To reassure himself, he cut off a chunk of biscuit and swirled it in extra gravy. “Aren’t you glad I made you order the waffle?”
“I can’t answer that. Don’t you know it’s rude to talk with your mouth full?” Smiling, she took another bite. He followed suit and enjoyed the salty, sausage gravy coating his tongue. Delicious.
This is what he would do from now on. Force people to indulge themselves, admit what they really want and go after it. Especially since it was too late for him.
After breakfast, he left a generous tip for Della because she’d made the experience extra special and because those were the only kind of tips he’d ever leave again. He and Beth returned to his vehicle and he drove the narrow road back toward the highway. He did his best Willie Nelson impersonation and sang “On the Road Again.”
Beth joined in. Pretty soon they realized they didn’t know the words beyond the chorus. They mumbled and hummed their way back to the famous lines. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun on a road trip.
His cell phone rang. He stopped singing and looked down to grab it.
Thud!
He’d hit something with his vehicle. Beth gasped so loud, it sounded like a cry. The phone kept ringing as he pulled over to the side of the road.
Ignoring the incessant ringing, he twisted his head to see. “Do you know what I hit?”
“It happened so quick. It seemed big, like a raccoon or a. . . .”
“Dog.” He saw it then. A brown and black lump lay across the yellow center line. Parker sprang from his vehicle and the cold wind shocked his cheeks. He ran toward the animal, hoping it was alive.
He heard Beth’s door slam shut, but he didn’t take his eyes off of the German shepherd. Parker crouched down near its head. The dog’s glassy eyes blinked.
Parker’s heart started beating again. He surveyed the damage, but didn’t see much blood. Beth arrived at his side. “Aw, poor thing.” She petted it with her gloved hand.
Noticing a cracked leather collar, he checked for tags. There were none. “Well, he must belong to someone or he wouldn’t have a collar.” The dog lifted its head, but put it back down. “Shit. I can’t leave him here like this. He’s obviously too hurt to go home.”
“There’s a house.” She pointed across an old Civil War cemetery toward a two-story farmhouse. “Let’s put him in the car and drive over there.”
Parker looked at her. A few stray snowflakes clung to her eyelashes and compassion lined her face. He remembered once when Ivy had hit a cat. She’d driven away, saying people should keep their pets inside if they cared about them. But Parker couldn’t blame this on anyone but himself. “I shouldn’t have reached for my damn cell phone.”
Beth didn’t say anything in response to that. “Do you want me to help pick him up?”
Shaking his head, he pulled off his glove so the dog could sniff his hand. Ever so gently, he scooped the animal into his arms and headed toward his vehicle. Beth opened the back door and Parker placed the German shepherd on the seat. “Don’t worry, boy. We’ll take you home.” He removed his coat and placed it on top like a blanket.
Since he didn’t want to cause the dog any more pain, Parker drove slowly up the gravel driveway to the house. Leaving Beth and the dog in the SUV, he rang the doorbell. He shuffled his feet on the Welcome mat and blew warm air onto his hands. No answer. He rang again and knocked. When the door remained shut, he glanced at Beth and shrugged.
He returned to the vehicle. “No one’s home.”
Her gaze landed on the injured dog in the backseat. “Let’s drive a little more and knock on doors. Maybe someone will recognize him.”
Even though time was tight, it was the right thing to do. They enacted their plan, taking turns getting out and knocking on doors. Apparently, everyone was at work. He cracked his knuckles. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Let’s find a vet. They can fix him up and try to alert the owner.”
“Okay.” They headed back to the diner where they asked Della about the nearest animal clinic. Within fifteen minutes, they arrived. He carried the whimpering dog into the vet’s office. “This is an emergency. I hit this dog with my SUV. Where should I put him?” A young woman wearing turquoise scrubs rushed forward and led him into a nearby examining room. He gently placed the dog on the
table. “Where’s the vet?”
“She’ll be here in a minute.”
Walking back to the waiting area, he could hear dogs barking from another room and a meowing cat in a pet carrier on the floor. The sounds of healthy pets gnawed at him. The German shepherd didn’t have the energy to bark any more.
He handed the rosy-cheeked receptionist his credit card. “I’ll pay all of the bills—no matter what the cost.” He circled his cell phone number on his Mall Land business card and pushed it toward her. “I don’t know who the dog belongs to and I’m afraid I can’t stay. Please keep me posted on how he’s doing. I feel just terrible.”
He and Beth returned to the vehicle but he didn’t turn the key in the ignition. “I hope he’ll be okay.”
“I’ve never met a vet that didn’t give one-hundred and ten percent.”
He could tell she was trying to make him feel better. “What if he has internal injuries?”
She shrugged. “Hopefully not.”
His cell phone started ringing and he hesitated before answering it. It was his vice-president. Parker interrupted him. “Listen, I need you to handle everything for the next few days. I’m unavailable.” He hung up. His shoulder muscles loosened a little. “That felt good. Maybe my business will go bankrupt, but who cares?” Secretly he did, but he needed to let go. He wasn’t going to be able to make all of the decisions for much longer. He wasn’t going to be doing anything for much longer.
“Your business will be fine,” Beth offered.
“If I hadn’t answered my damn phone, I wouldn’t have hit that dog.”
He could see kindness in her eyes as she spoke. “Maybe, maybe not. He came out of nowhere.” She glanced at her watch. “I hate to say this, but we’d better get going if we hope to make it there in time for Hannah’s show.”
He turned on his navigation system and followed its instructions, heading toward I-55 South. Even though he’d need to switch to I-40 soon, he couldn’t focus. He couldn’t stop thinking about the German shepherd and its whimper. Would he ever bark again? What was his name? Would his owners find him? “It’s so hard to leave not knowing how things are going to turn out.”
“You just have to believe that he’s in good hands.”
“Is that how you did it? I mean, was it hard to leave the baby?”
She flinched. “Of course it was hard.” Her voice was sharp, defensive. “I carried her inside of me for nine months. Everything I did revolved around her. I ate lots of salads and I hate lettuce, I stopped drinking caffeine and alcohol, I suffered through headaches and stomachaches and colds without taking any medicine.”
Why had he asked her that? What a dumb question. And yet he wanted to know more. He wanted to know everything that he’d missed. “If you don’t want to answer me, I respect that.” He let those words settle around them as he drove toward the highway entrance ramp.
She crossed her arms and faced him. “What?”
“What was it like for you? I just found out I have a child, but you’ve known for sixteen years that she was out there somewhere.”
“It’s like there’s a hole inside of me that nothing can ever fill.” Her pitch rose as if she might cry. “I tried not to think about her. But no matter how hard I worked or even when I fell in love, I never felt complete.” She sniffed and looked out the side window, obscuring her face from his view. “Maybe that’s why lately I wanted to have a baby so badly. To see if that made me feel better about giving away my firstborn. But I’ll never feel good about it.”
He was glad to hear how it tore her up. Because now he felt an overwhelming loss, too. If she’d moved on and forgotten about their baby, he’d think less of her. That was the kind of thing Ivy could do. Focus on her own happiness, never feel remorse for anything. She claimed it was Parker’s fault she’d never finished college and that she’d had a miscarriage. She probably blamed him for the fact that she’d slept with another man.
“You have to believe me, Parker. Giving that baby up was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It’s not like you and I were going to get married and play house. I was so young. I didn’t want to drop out of school and work a minimum wage job for the rest of my life. I hate myself for getting into that situation in the first place.”
“It wasn’t all your fault. I should’ve worn a condom.”
“Yeah.” Her voice was almost a whisper. She remained quiet for a while. “The nurse told me I probably shouldn’t hold the baby or I might not be strong enough to go through with it. But I did. I held her. All seven pounds and two ounces of her. She had pudgy cheeks and a tiny nose and the softest cry. She was so beautiful.”
“How long did you get to be with her before. . . ?”
“Two days. I even insisted she stay in the room at night instead of going to the nursery. My last day in the hospital, I signed the papers, kissed her forehead and handed her over.” Again, her voice sounded squeaky.
“Did you get a picture?”
She shook her head. “No. But I studied her face to burn the image into my memory. And I kept her little hospital i.d. bracelet.”
“Did you stay in touch after the adoption?”
“No. Maybe I should have.” Her facial expression tightened as if wrestling with her memories. “I still beat myself up over her quiet, delicate cry. Did she know I was going to leave her? Is that why she cried so softly—as if to say ‘I won’t be any trouble’?” Chewing on her thumbnail, she stared out the window. “Now it’s like she went from newborn to sixteen in an instant.”
“I hate that I missed out on all of those years.” It was Beth’s fault, but she clearly didn’t do it to be mean. She’d felt abandoned and that was because of him. He’d slept with her, got her pregnant and left her nothing but a note. “We both missed out.”
Her eyes blinked rapidly and a tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m sorry.”
He swallowed and tried to absorb her apology. Sorry wasn’t enough. After another mile, she still looked miserable and he fought the urge to comfort her.
Squeezing the steering wheel, he considered his words carefully. He had her apology and he knew she’d suffered over her choice. “I like to think I would’ve done the right thing, but I’m not even sure what that was. God knows I wasn’t exactly a saint back then.”
She turned toward him. “I’ve never told anyone so much. Thanks for listening.” He heard her take a deep breath. “So, are you still going to sue me?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Before Parker could answer, Beth’s cell phone rang. Caller i.d. indicated that it was Drew. Had he called to make amends? Glancing at Parker, she wondered what he had been about to say about the lawsuit. She hesitated but finally answered the phone on the fifth ring.
“Where are you? You didn’t show up for work.” Drew sounded concerned.
“I’m on my way to Texas.”
“Texas? Why?”
“I told you my daughter is willing to meet me. So I’m going to see her.”
“Oh.” The sound of his exhale came over the line. “I was worried about you.”
Her heart ached. “I didn’t think you cared.” Did she have the strength to walk away from him for good? She loved snuggling up next to him watching Star Trek re-runs. She loved the way he rubbed her shoulders when she was tense. She loved the way his Victorian house felt like home.
“Emma’s coming over this weekend,” he said, filling the awkward silence. “I’m feeling better so I’m going to watch her while Missy goes job hunting.”
Leaving Emma would be the toughest part about breaking up with Drew. She’d never dated a man with children. She even refused to do matchmaking if someone had kids because it wasn’t fair to play with a child’s affections. But Drew’s niece had dropped into their laps after they’d moved in together. Fortunately Beth had instantly been drawn to her. “Say hi to Emma for me please.”
“Is this really it? You’re leaving me because I’m mad you lied?”
He hadn’t called t
o apologize. Her lungs deflated. “We don’t want the same things.” If he did, he’d ask her to become Mrs. Drew Holmes.
“What we have works. Why risk it by getting married?”
Ouch. She stole a glance at Parker who fiddled with the radio station, pretending not to listen. Bravery filled her. “Because everything wonderful involves a risk. Because I deserve more.” Wow. Standing up for herself, finally saying this out loud, made her feel strong. Talking on the phone, as always, was so much easier than face-to-face. She held her chin high. “Good-bye.”
After she hung up, she stared at the tiny phone in her palm. Her hands trembled. Another year wasted. For sure she’d never have a baby now.
She kept her focus on the phone. “Sorry about that.”
“No need to apologize. Remember what I said? Only apologize for things that are your fault.” He turned down the country song on the radio. “Are you alright?”
She nodded. “It’s just a lot of stuff happening all at once. Breaking up with the man I’d hoped to marry, meeting the daughter I put up for adoption, getting sued by you. . . .”
He took a deep breath but didn’t address her concerns.
They drove for a while without speaking. A check of her watch against the GPS time estimate of arrival caused her muscles to tense. “I hope we make it to Hannah’s art show.”
“Our little detour this morning slowed us down, but now that the snow has stopped, I’ll speed up.”
Her body felt the effects of his foot pressing harder on the accelerator. “Why do you think Hannah invited us?”
“I guess she wants to get to know us better.”
She swallowed the saliva pooling in her throat. “I tried to tell Mrs. Taylor about your condition, but she cut me off. You said if you had a kid, you’d tell her. Do you still feel that way?”
His knuckles turned white around the steering wheel. “I don’t want her pity. I do want her to know there’s a chance she has it, so she can decide whether she wants to get tested or not.”
A Weekend Getaway Page 20