by Katie Meyer
“Yeah. I mean I think so.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”
His shoulders drooped, his hands falling to his sides. “Hell, I don’t know anything anymore. But yeah, I wanted to call. I just...hadn’t yet.”
Given her multiple laps around the block, she couldn’t really fault him for that. “I can leave—”
“No!”
She wasn’t sure who his shout startled more, him or her. But when he stepped back and motioned her in, she went. He led her to the living room, where he plopped down on one of the easy chairs, his elbows on his knees as if he was too tired to hold himself up. By the look of the circles under his eyes, he might be. Better to cut to the chase, ask what she needed to ask, and get out.
“I heard that you quit.”
His shoulders tightened but he kept his gaze on a spot of carpet a few feet in front of him. “I did.”
Frustrated at the lack of detail, she sucked in a breath and just went for it. “Do you really hate me that badly?”
* * *
Luke’s head snapped up at the accusation, his eyes searching for a clue that he’d misheard her. “Hate you? Why would I hate you?”
She shrugged, twisting her hands in front of her. “Because I broke up with you?”
“Honey, I couldn’t hate you if I tried.” Feeling every minute of the sleepless night he’d had, he pushed into a standing position and headed for the kitchen. “Can I get you some coffee? Or whatever?”
She shook her head, trailing after him but keeping her distance.
He grabbed a mug from the drying rack by the sink and then a pod of whatever dark brew had been on sale. A press of a button and a rich aroma filled the air as the single-serve coffee machine did its thing. Not the world’s best coffee, but for a single guy it made more sense than brewing a full pot.
He took a sip, scalding his tongue. Still, after tossing and turning until the wee hours of the morning, the caffeine was worth the pain. Seemed like a lot of life was like that lately—a matter of balancing priorities and pain.
Megan had watched him silently as he drank, but he could see her getting restless, and knew he wasn’t going to be granted any longer of a reprieve. “I don’t hate you,” he repeated, because it deserved to be said twice. “Was I angry when you just walked away the night of the gala? Yeah, I was.” He shook his head, trying to banish the memory and the lingering emotion. “But I know you did what you thought was right. I know it wasn’t about me, it was about protecting Owen.”
“Right.” She nodded, and the relief in her face was like a stab to his heart. How long had she been carrying around that burden, worried that he’d felt that way? “But then, why quit?”
He sighed. She wasn’t going to take this well. And he didn’t have any way of softening the blow. “They were going to kick Owen out of the school. They said they wanted to set an example, so no other parent would be willing to date me.”
Her jaw dropped, and he said a few choice words under his breath. If he didn’t know it would make things worse, he’d have made life a living hell for those people. As it was, he’d done the only thing he could. “I figured they wanted to get rid of me, so if I gave them what they wanted, they’d leave you and Owen alone.”
“And did it work?”
“I don’t know.”
She trembled, her face blanching, and this time he didn’t bother to stay quiet when he cursed. Pulling out one of the stools at the breakfast bar, he motioned for her to sit. “You okay?”
She nodded, stopped, and shook her head. “No, not really, but it’s not your fault.”
That was debatable. He’d been the one to push her into a relationship against her better judgment. And he’d been the one to insist they take their relationship public. So, yeah, from where he stood, it absolutely was his fault. “The board isn’t going to kick Owen out right now. With me gone, they don’t have grounds. But there is a chance the new principal, whomever it is, won’t want to allow Lily on campus.”
“But that’s not fair!”
“I know. And Grant is already looking up any legal precedents he can use—”
“I can’t afford a lawyer,” Megan protested, pushing off her bar stool.
“He offered to do it pro bono,” Luke assured her. Technically, he hadn’t actually said that, but he knew Grant had more money than he needed, and would be willing to write off his fees to help a single mom and kid. And if not, Luke would pay the legal fees himself. It was the least he could do. “He’s already looking into any relevant case law, and he’s pretty sure that a sternly worded letter will handle things. If not, he’s prepared to file an injunction retaining the status quo until it can be decided by the courts.”
“An injunction. That’s temporary, right?”
“It is.” God, he hated raining bad news on her, yet she needed to know. “But a lawsuit would cost the school money, and Grant said he was pretty sure that, plus the threat of bad publicity, would be enough to stop them from doing anything dumb.”
“What’s dumb is you up and quitting without even talking to me first,” she countered, anger bringing some color into her pale cheeks.
“Hey, I’m not the enemy here.” He raised his hands in surrender. “I’m just trying to do right by Owen, same as you.”
She bit her lip, worrying it, and another chunk of his heart crumbled. Unable to take it, he put his hands on her shoulders, careful to try to keep the contact firmly in the realm of friendly rather than romantic. “We’re on the same team. I don’t regret quitting, if it helps Owen.”
She looked up at him and he swore he could feel electricity flow from her into his body, lighting up the part of him that had gone dark without her.
When she spoke, he felt more than heard the words. “Do you regret us?”
“Never.” He whispered the word, and then, as gently as he could, he kissed her. Just a taste to remember her by, and even that brief press of lips nearly overwhelmed him.
* * *
He’d kissed her. He’d kissed her and then he’d told her to leave.
Megan still couldn’t believe it. Any of it. From him sacrificing his career to the kiss to the abrupt and final goodbye. The whole darned thing made no sense.
What she needed was a sanity check. Glancing at the dashboard display, she saw it was just after noon. Kirstin would be with a student at this time of day, but if she was lucky, Cassie would be on her lunch break and available to talk.
The clinic parking lot was mostly empty, but Cassie’s car was tucked into its spot at the back. Thank heaven for small favors. At least one thing was going her way today.
Inside she found Cassie crouched in front of the complimentary coffee station, wiping down the front of the cabinet.
“Don’t you have staff for that kind of stuff?”
Grinning, her friend straightened and, setting down the rag she’d been using, pulled Megan into a quick hug. “I do, but they’re on lunch and I noticed some drips when I was walking by. It’s faster to just clean it off quick than to wait and try to remember to tell someone else to do it later.”
Typical Cassie, she was about practicality not her own ego. A bit of her no-nonsense attitude was just what Megan needed right now. If anyone could sort through the mess her life had become, Cassie could. “Do you have a minute?” she asked, not sure what she’d do if Cassie said no.
“Sure, if you don’t mind me eating while we talk. I’ve got a frozen dinner heating up in the microwave.” She started toward the break room, pausing to ask, “Are you hungry? I’m sure I’ve got some more in the freezer if you want one.”
“No thanks, I’m good. You go ahead.” The last thing on her mind was food. Her stomach was so twisted in knots that nothing would stay down even if she tried.
Cassie retrieved her lunch and sat behind the reception desk. “I’m
on phones until someone comes back from break,” she explained, motioning for Megan to take the other chair. “But we’re really slow right now. People are spending their money on Christmas gifts, not routine vet visits.” She took a bite of her pasta and then pointed at Megan with her fork. “So spill it. What’s up?”
Megan took a breath, ready to relay the entire story, but before she could start, the front door to the clinic opened.
“Mrs. Cristoff, how can I help you?” Cassie pushed her meal aside and smiled at the elderly woman as she walked inside. Dressed in a lime-green velour tracksuit with hot-pink trim, pink high-tops, and a pair of rhinestone sunglasses, she looked like a Florida postcard gone wrong. But her wide smile more than made up for any fashion shortcomings—short being the operative word given her tiny stature.
“I need a bag of those low-fat treats for my son’s dog,” she said, shaking her head in disapproval. “I’ve told him and told him to stop overfeeding the poor thing, but he won’t listen. That dog is as fat as a tick. So I figure I’ll switch out his regular treats for the diet ones and no one will be the wiser.”
Cassie chuckled. “Of course. Megan, could you get them for me? They are on the top shelf, above the dog food.”
As she rose to fetch the treats, Mrs. Cristoff’s attention turned her way. “Megan Palmer? You’re the one who was dating the school principal, right?”
Megan bristled. “I don’t think that’s anyone’s business.” Not her most tactful moment, but she was sick and tired of being the latest item on the menu for the local gossip. Still, this was Cassie’s client. If she got offended and—
A thin, veiny hand slapped the counter with a loud smack. “Darn straight! That’s just what I told that old Rob Swanson when I beat him at bridge last night. I told him that what went on behind closed doors was none of his never-mind, and that unless he wanted the ladies’ auxiliary digging into his closet, dragging out some rather shabby-looking skeletons, he’d back off.”
Stunned, Megan fell back a step, clutching the cellophane bag of treats like they were her lifeline to sanity. “You...you said that?”
Her unlikely champion nodded vehemently. “You bet I did. I also reminded him that I know a few disability advocates—at my age, you meet more than a few—who would have a field day with this in the press. A little harmless gossip is one thing, but to stand in the way of love? And then to bring that precious little boy of yours into it?” Her dark eyes snapped in anger. “That’s just wrong, and I made sure he and Alice and the others all knew it. You won’t have any more trouble with them, don’t you worry.
“If your man wants his job back, and I wouldn’t blame him one minute if he didn’t after all this, it’s his for the asking.” With that, she patted Megan on the cheek as if she were a long-lost relative and not a total stranger, and took the treats right from her hand before waltzing out. “Just put it on my card, Cassie dear. And give my best to your family.”
“Did that just happen?” Megan blinked, wondering if she’d had some kind of hallucination. “Did a total stranger just waltz in, buy dog treats, and mention she’d taken over fixing my love life?”
Cassie grinned. “It definitely happened. And not a total stranger. Mrs. C. knows everything that goes on in that school. My guess is she’s been following the gossip mill for weeks about you two. Now I guess I don’t need to ask what you wanted to talk about. Sounds like things finally reached a head with the school board?”
“You could say that.” Megan sat, her head spinning with all that had just happened. “Luke brought a lawyer, and when they realized they couldn’t fire him, they decided to expel Owen instead.”
“No!” Cassie gasped, her fork halfway to her mouth. “That’s awful! No wonder Mrs. Cristoff laid into them. She’s tough as nails, but a big softie when it comes to kids and animals.”
“Too bad she isn’t on the school board,” Megan mused wryly.
“She was for a while,” Cassie said between bites. “But she got bored. She still controls pretty much everything on this island, but she prefers working behind the scenes. Anyway, what about Luke? What did Mrs. Cristoff mean when she said he could have his job back? I thought you said they couldn’t fire him.”
“They didn’t. He quit. He thought that if he was gone, they’d let Owen stay.”
“Oh my goodness, that’s so romantic!” Cassie gushed. “I mean it’s terrible, but still, he gave up his career for you. Not many guys would do that.” Her eyes widened. “Have you seen him? Are you back together yet? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”
“Whoa, slow down.” Megan held a hand up to stop Cassie before she got any further ahead of herself. “Yes, I saw him. He’s devastated.” The way he’d sat, with his shoulders hunched as if the weight of the world was crushing them, would haunt her for a long time. “And no, we are not back together.”
Cassie’s brow creased. “I don’t get it. If he’s not the principal, there’s nothing keeping you apart now, right?”
If only it were that simple. “The last thing he needs is me around, reminding him of what he lost. The sooner he moves on and forgets me, the sooner he can rebuild his life.”
When Cassie opened her mouth to argue, Megan shook her head. “I ruined the man’s life. There’s no going back from that.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Grant asked for what had to be the twelfth time in the last half hour.
“Yes,” Luke grunted, reaching to untie the last strap holding a gargantuan Frasier fir to the roof of his car. “Just shut up and don’t drop the tree.”
“Your precious tree is fine,” he said, easily guiding it to the ground. “It’s you I’m worried about. A week ago, you swore you were going to move to the mainland and never see Megan again. Now you’re showing up on her doorstep with an instant Christmas party, ready to beg her to take you back. I like her, you know I do, but you gotta admit, this is unusual.”
Luke shrugged. “Probably.” If anything, that was an understatement. But they were past the point of half measures. Time to go big or go home.
“Don’t listen to that grinch.” Mrs. Cristoff adjusted the pointed ears attached to her headband. He’d balked when he’d first seen the elderly woman in her elf outfit, but after her miraculous intervention into his job situation, he couldn’t tell her not to come along. Cassie was there, too, and Kirstin, whom he’d liked since he’d hired her as the school’s reading specialist.
The three women had staged what could only be called an intervention a few days ago, showing up at his house with a six-pack and a pizza. That got them in the door, where they proceeded to tell him how much Megan missed him. That she was brokenhearted, and lonely, and it was his duty to make up with her before Christmas was ruined. That last part was from Mrs. Cristoff, who, to his knowledge, had never spoken to Megan about any of this.
But it was their secret weapon, a handwritten note from Owen, that had propelled him to this moment. Luke had it tucked in his pocket for good luck, but he didn’t need to pull it out to know what it said; the words were permanently etched in his mind.
Dear Principal Luke,
I hope you aren’t too mad about me and Lily getting you in trouble. We didn’t mean to. The kids at school miss you. If I stop bringing Lily, can you come back? I kinda hoped you might be my stepdad one day, but if you can’t, I wish you could at least be my principal.
Sincerely,
Owen
P.S. Mom misses you, too. She cries a lot, but says she isn’t. I asked if she loved you, and she said yes, but it didn’t matter. But I think it does matter. And she is so nice, and pretty, maybe you could love her, too?
Owen had given the note to Cassie when she was at the house one day, and asked her to deliver it. She’d done so, but not before calling Kirstin in as reinforcement.
Mrs. Cristoff, seeing the two women arrive on hi
s doorstep from her window in the house across the street from his, had showed up soon after with the excuse of needing to borrow a cup of sugar. Before he’d even made it to the pantry, she’d gotten the scoop and inserted herself into the scheme. In one fell swoop, she’d gone from fundraising pest to champion ally!
Cassie and Kirstin had backed up Owen’s take on things. Megan really was in love with him. He’d barely heard anything after that, his mind caught up in that one amazing fact. When he was finally able to focus, the pizza was mostly gone—for such a tiny person little Mrs. Cristoff could really pack it away—and the conversation had turned to Christmas.
He’d remembered Megan talking about how she always tried to make a big deal out of the holiday for Owen’s sake, but that she always felt let down with it just being the two of them.
According to Kirstin and Cassie, this year was even worse. He’d cringed, guilt curdling the cheesy pizza in his gut. He’d promised to get the boxes of decorations down from the attic for her, and they’d had big plans to trim the tree together. To make it a real party. Instead, he hadn’t so much as offered a helping hand. Breakup or not, he could have at least made sure she’d had help lugging the heavy stuff.
That’s why he’d invited Grant. If Cassie and Kirstin were wrong, and Megan had no interest in getting back together, then his friend would bring down whatever was in the attic and make sure the tree got set up. But he really hoped they weren’t wrong.
He wanted to give Megan a Christmas to remember. He’d brought friends, and food, and the biggest fir on the lot, but what he really wanted—for both of them—was a second chance. Because all he wanted for Christmas, and for the rest of his life, was to call Megan and Owen family.
* * *
“Mom, there’s something at the door,” Owen yelled, his voice carrying from the front of the house to the kitchen where she was mixing up what she hoped would be a batch of Christmas cookies. The burned remnants of her first attempt were already in the trash.