Man in the Moon (Sweet Escapes Book 1)

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Man in the Moon (Sweet Escapes Book 1) Page 13

by Gardener, Melissa


  “I love you, too, sweetheart.” Andrew kissed her soft and sweet before telling her, “Oh, I dropped by the grocery store today and ran into your dad.”

  Chris’s face lit up. “You did? And?”

  “And...it was amazing, Chris. He hasn’t changed. I’d been dreading it—meeting him again. You know, it’s just weird for me, but he was Henry—exactly as I remember him.” Andrew chuckled, sighing and falling back on the bed. “Good ole, awkward Henry.”

  “Hey, now,” Chris teased with a tickle to Andrew’s belly. “The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, you know?”

  Andrew laughed and poked her side, twisting his fingers into her flesh and laughing as Chris let out a loud giggle. “No! Stop! Don’t tickle me,” she pleaded, but the happiness was evident in her voice.

  Andrew stopped, then silenced her with a searing kiss that made her toes curl and her brain turn to mush.

  . . .

  “That’s okay, sweetie. Take care of yourself and drink plenty of fluids. Yeah. Okay. Bye.” Chris hung up the phone with a heavy sigh. It was Monday morning and Amy had just called to inform her boss she had caught some sort of flu bug and was unable to come in—she had spent half the night praying to the porcelain gods.

  “It’ll be fine,” she told herself out loud as she took out a few lilies and proceeded to cut the stems. There was a wedding rehearsal on Friday that needed fresh arrangements and a sweet sixteen with a garden theme that required fancy silk flower work to be done during the week. Other than that, though, Chris figured she could juggle the ins and outs and deliveries on her own. “I’ll be fine,” she repeated, concentrating on the shears in her hands. The last thing she needed was to cut herself.

  As the day droned on, Chris soon realized how much she depended on Amy. She had been alone in the shop a few times, but it was usually intermittent while Mrs. Davis was off doing a delivery or when Amy had a day off. She wondered how she was going to cope once Amy started school. As she signed for a delivery in the back of the shop, the phone rang and the bell out front chimed alerting her to a customer.

  “Busy day today, Chris?” Tim, the delivery man, smiled and waved as he closed the receiving door behind him.

  Placing the container on the counter, Chris left the phone and went out front to greet whoever was there.

  “Hey, Abby.” Chris expelled a sigh of relief at seeing her friend. At least she wasn’t a grumpy old man or one of the bridezillas she’d had to contend with lately. She’d had her share of misfortunes in the past week and didn’t think she could handle any more.

  “I thought I’d come over and invite you for coffee, my darling friend.” Abby looked around the store. “I love this.” She pointed to an antique vase. “I can’t remember the last time anyone bought me flowers.” She sighed wistfully, finally turning to Chris.

  “I can’t, actually. Amy is out sick and Mrs. Davis left for vacation. I’m all by my lonesome.” Chris shrugged. “Rain check?”

  “Oh, wow, that sucks.” Abby grimaced. “How about I pick us up lunch and bring it over? My treat? I haven’t talked to you in ages and I think we’re due for some girl talk.”

  “Girl talk, meaning...?” Chris asked, thinking Abby wanted to gossip and Lord only knew she didn’t have time for any of that.

  Abby took a deep breath and stuck out her left hand in front of Chris. “Ian finally officially proposed.”

  With wide eyes and a matching grin, Chris squealed in delight for her dear friend and proceeded to hug her as she agreed to take a few minutes to have lunch with her.

  . . .

  Andrew paced his living room back and forth, holding the receiver against his ear. He knew how much work he still had to do in order to keep up with demands, but the state of his current internet connection was sorely lacking. The man at the other end of the line didn’t seem to agree with Andrew’s statement about internet speed being “the most important thing in his life right now.”

  Raking a hand through his hair, Andrew listened to the music playing through the phone speaker, while his mind wandered to how his girlfriend’s day fared in comparison. The blaring melody of My Heart Will Go On was starting to make his left eye twitch as he prayed her day was going better than his.

  By dinner time, he managed to come up with a fairly convincing cover image for an up and coming author writing about sexual deviance. He also managed to get his internet service provider to agree to have a service tech come over later in the week to install a faster modem.

  “Not too bad for a Monday,” he told himself, while waiting for his computer to shut down for the day. He had made plans with Chris for dinner and figured he would probably not make it back home until the morning. Best to turn things off, he thought. The fact he was about one hundred percent sure he would be spending the night at Chris’s brought a smile to his lips.

  He knew they were doing things on the fast track, but it didn’t feel wrong, everything about his relationship with Chris felt right. Perfect, in fact.

  As he packed a bag and turned off the lights inside his house, a smile crept up his lips as his heart flooded with emotion.

  He was going to see his Christina.

  . . .

  “So, Abby’s getting married and asked me to do the flowers for the reception. She’s asked her cousin Maggie to be her maid of honor, but I’m going to be a bridesmaid. Isn’t that cool?” Chris rambled.

  Andrew chuckled at her excitement. “That sounds great.” He speared a piece of broccoli and brought the fork to Chris’s lips. “Now eat something, you’ve been talking non-stop since I got here.”

  Chris wrapped her lips around the fork and seductively slipped it out of her mouth, chewing as Andrew’s eyes bore into hers.

  “Evil woman,” he muttered, spearing another piece of broccoli for himself.

  Chris laughed. “It’s not every day my friends get married. I’ve never done an entire wedding on my own, though; it’ll be my first. This is so cool. Mrs. Davis will be blown out of the water, you’ll see.”

  Andrew nodded. “You’ll be great, Chris. When’s the wedding, anyway?”

  “Next spring. We have like ten months to put it together.” Chris sighed. “It’s barely enough time, but we’ll make it happen.”

  “It’s nice to see you so excited. When you texted me to tell me about Amy, I thought for sure you were going to want to eat cookies for dinner and curl up in a ball on the sofa, while I rubbed your feet.” He was only slightly kidding.

  “Oh, you’re still rubbing my feet, but this beef and broccoli dish is to die for.” Chris shifted in her seat. “I do hope Amy feels better tomorrow, though. I can’t tell you how much I missed having a second pair of hands in there with me today.”

  “That can’t be easy, sweetheart.” Andrew put aside the container of fried dumplings and pulled Chris closer to him on the sofa where they had decided to eat dinner. “But tomorrow’s another day. Tonight is about us and I want us to not talk about work. Now, how could I get my girlfriend to feel good, hmm?” Andrew’s nose skimmed Chris’s neck, making her shiver.

  “How about you rub my feet ‘til I fall asleep?” Chris wiggled her eyebrows and grinned.

  “Hmm, how about we have a repeat of Saturday night?” Andrew suggested, licking his bottom lip, grazing his teeth over the warm flesh. “It’ll make you feel soooo good.” He kissed along her collarbone and pulled the elastic out of her loose ponytail. “I’ll wash your hair,” he promised, licking and sucking at her earlobe. “And then I’ll...relax you.”

  When she felt herself get worked up, there was no denying Andrew. “Okay,” Chris squeaked. “Give me a few minutes head start.” She figured it couldn’t be any worse than last time.

  It would seem Andrew Harris had turned her into a sexual deviant like the book he had been working on, but at least he had opened her up to new things. She was totally okay with that, though, and considered herself one hell of a lucky woman.

  Chapter 12

 
“Dad, you remember Andrew Harris.” Chris introduced the two most important men in her life, even though they already knew each other from years past and had reacquainted at the grocery store recently. She was nervous and bumbling over her words a bit. The glass of red wine she drank before Andrew picked her up from home, to bring her to Henry’s for dinner, already started filtering through her empty stomach and into her veins, making her lightheaded.

  “Yeah, um...hey again, Andrew.” Henry frowned, looking up at Andrew who winced slightly. He noticed how Chris’s behavior seemed strained, but had been so nervous himself about this dinner he hadn’t paid enough attention.

  Apparently.

  “Are you okay, Chris?” Andrew leaned down to help her out of her jacket. The wind had picked up today and the evening felt cool. They were expecting rain later in the night with possibility of a thunderstorm.

  Chris laughed. “Of course, silly.” Grinning, she pulled her arms out of the confines of her jacket and turned to wrap her arms around Andrew’s neck. “Everything will be all right,” she reassured him, planting a sloppy kiss to the corner of his mouth.

  “Okay, then,” Andrew whispered as he stood up and handed Henry Chris’s jacket. “She’s been working late all week. Amy is sick,” he explained. “She may have had a drink to relax before I picked her up.”

  Henry’s moustache twitched. “Let’s get some food into you, then, Chris.”

  Following her father into the dining room, Chris held Andrew’s hand and squeezed his fingers, smiling up at him as she pulled him along.

  Andrew looked around the house, noticing how, to his adult eyes, it looked smaller than he remembered, but the decor was all the same. He noted how the linoleum floors still had the same patterns and one of the door frames held Chris’s growth chart, complete with her scribbly handwriting.

  His eyes lingered toward the window overlooking the backyard and he closed his eyes, not ready for what seeing it might do to him.

  An eerie feeling crept down his spine as he stepped into the dining room. Memories of his younger self assaulted him. He was brought back to a time when his father and mother sat around the table along with Eva and Henry while the four of them played cards.

  “Come on, Andrew. Let’s go to my room.” Chris pulled him by the hand. “I have Monopoly all set up and I didn’t cheat setting it up, either; I swear.”

  “You two can take snacks if you want, but make sure to bring the dishes back down.” Eva waved them off, smiling as she looked at the cards Andrew Sr. had just dealt her.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Andrew whispered, feeling the squeeze of Chris’s fingers around his hand, as she tried to pull him into the kitchen.

  “Come on, Andrew.” Chris tugged harder. “Mom made popcorn.”

  Once they had gotten their snacks, the two wandered up into Chris’s room and spent the night playing Monopoly. Chris didn’t cheat and Andrew won.

  Andrew went home that night with his parents after a fun-filled night with his best friend. As he did every time, he sat in the backseat of his dad’s car and waved to Chris as she stood outside the front porch waving back, the smile on her lips as blinding and beautiful as ever.

  “You okay, son?” Henry asked, placing the hot lasagna pan in the center of the table.

  Andrew cleared his throat and inhaled deeply. “Oh, yeah, everything looks great, Henry. I just...Wow, this place hasn’t changed much.” He closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath, only to be assaulted by the familiar homey smell of the Laurence house.

  Seeing Andrew’s reaction made Chris sober up rather fast, as she tried to rein in her emotions and be there for him. She’d had twenty years of living in this house and was used to its smells, sights, and sounds. She could only imagine what walking into it after that period of time would have done to her.

  Taking a deep breath, Chris pulled out a chair for herself and looked up at Andrew. “Dad wasn’t much for decorating and Nana liked to crochet things.” She smiled softly. “Welcome home, Andrew.” She looked around wistfully, noticing for the first time, the house had in fact stayed pretty much as her mother had left it. No wonder Andrew seemed scared shitless to come here.

  Andrew sat down, murmuring, “I know.” Because deep down he did know this house would always be home to him, and in no way did he mean to sound indignant. “I just...I remember.” He grimaced, his lips forming a thin line as his eyes narrowed and focused on the empty plate in front of him. “I remember so much that happened here, it scares me,” he admitted, while Henry looked on.

  Henry kept his mouth shut, but felt as if the boy was finally home. He wasn’t an emotional man, by any means, but watching his daughter comfort Andrew made his heart swell. He knew the two were meant for each other; that whatever trauma they had each suffered, the loss could somehow be mended through finding each other again.

  Andrew felt Chris’s arm sliding between the back of the chair and his upper back as she rubbed her hand over his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” She looked at her father, her head now clearing from the wine-induced fog. “This looks great, Dad.” A slight smile played at her quivering lips.

  Henry nodded and returned a hopeful smile. “Thanks, Christina. Figured a good, home-cooked meal would be nice.” He took the spatula and started cutting into the lasagna. “Dig in, kids. It’s not gonna get any warmer.”

  . . .

  After dinner, Chris helped Henry do the dishes, while Andrew looked around the house, feeling somewhat lost for words. While he had managed to pull himself together and enjoy a wonderful meal with his girlfriend and her father, he still felt a sense of nostalgia as he took in all the reminders of a happier, past life.

  “Come with me.” Chris extended her hand toward Andrew, who stood stock-still, looking out over the backyard through the kitchen window. So many whispered conversations and forever promises were made with Chris on the tire swing that used to hang in the old oak tree. “Dad had to take the swing down and cut some branches a few years ago,” she answered his unasked question. She then tugged Andrew behind her all the way up the stairs and into her old bedroom, a feeling of déjà vu settling in his gut.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t think it was going to be this...hard for me to be here.” His eyes landed on a picture of Nana, Eva and Chris that Chris kept on her nightstand along with several other pictures; some of which were of her and Andrew. “This house...it’s like, I’m right back there; when Dad was still living and we were happy. I almost expect him to walk in through that back door, you know?”

  Chris sat on the edge of her bed and pulled Andrew to sit next to her. “I know. I’m sorry, too. I...I shouldn’t have had that glass of wine.” She licked her lips and shook her head. “I didn’t think it’d make me tipsy, but I’ve been all over the place today and I barely ate anything,” she continued. “I had a feeling this would be hard on all of us, including Dad.”

  Andrew smirked, running a hand down her back, pulling her closer to him. “I didn’t mind you tipsy. You were a little...looser.” He kissed her temple.

  Chris nudged his side, happy about the slight shift in mood. “It’ll get better, you know.” She took a frame off the nightstand and held it in her hands; running her fingers over Nana’s smiling face, she said, “This house, and everything in it...it’s as if I’m with them every time I’m here. At first, it was difficult, but living here and coming back, I feel as though I’m visiting all of them and their memories.” She sniffled, unable to hide her emotions. “I know it’s not easy, Andrew, but don’t stay away from my dad because it hurts too much to be here. I need him, and you, in my life. Together.”

  Andrew drew a cleansing breath and closed his eyes, letting his tears fall and slide down his cheeks. “Oh, baby, that would never happen.” He held her close to him, pulling her into the cocoon of his body. “Is that...is that why this dinner made you so nervous?” He wiped his face with his free hand and took another deep breath.

  Chris nodded against Andrew’s chest.
“It’s both of you... All of us... We’re all, like, missing all these people. Let’s face it, Andrew, you look just like your dad, it’s almost creepy.” She felt her skin heat up and her heartbeat quicken. That didn’t come out right. “Well, not that creepy, I mean...” She huffed, flustered and embarrassed, while Andrew chuckled, running stray strands of hair behind her ears. “You look like him—” she looked deep into his eyes “—but you’re my Andrew.”

  He kissed her, then leaned his forehead against hers. “And you’re my Chris. You always were mine and always will be. And these people—” he pointed to the frame in her hand “—were my people, too. Together, we’ll keep their memories alive. I promise, Chris. You can talk to me about these things and I’ll do the same from now on, okay?” His eyes pleaded with hers, imploring that he needed this. Somehow Henry was part of Andrew’s past; part of what he had with his dad. He hoped that maybe being close to Henry would help him keep those memories alive for both of them.

  Smiling, she pressed a kiss to his nose. “Promise.”

  . . .

  “You kids okay?” Henry eyed them as they came back downstairs to join him in the living room, where he was now enjoying his favorite fishing show on ESPN.

  “Yeah, Andrew says my room’s the same.” Chris rolled her eyes and sat down on the sofa.

  “I remember how it was.” He pointed to his temple. “We spent enough time in there together for me to remember.”

  Chris started giggling, side-eyeing him. “Did we, now?”

  “Oh, Lord,” Henry muttered. “I know you two are grown and all but try not to do this in front of me.”

  “Yes, sir.” Andrew reached for Chris’s hand, trying not to laugh.

  Chris shook her head and clucked her tongue with a huff. “Oh, Dad, I was just teasing.” She pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes. “Did you call Lynn?”

 

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