“I only had one condom.”
“Seriously?”
“Well, if I had known that you were going to be insatiable our first time, I would have stuffed an entire box in my wallet.”
“I’m not insatiable,” I reply defensively. “I just love being with you, and this is new and fun and amazing.”
“And it can happen again as soon as I make a stop at the store. I promise.”
“Fine, but there are other things we can do until then…”
My voice trails off and Wyatt rolls on top of me. “Yes, yes, there are,” he finally says.
“We can make this work,” he finally says as the last firework explodes above us.
“We can try at least. For now, it is what it is.”
“Why don’t we talk about this tomorrow? I have to meet with the Mayor early in the morning, and I’m sure you need some rest.”
“About that, what are the sleeping arrangements tonight? I don’t want to put you out. I can sleep on the couch if you want to snuggle with Lola.”
Reaching for my hand, Wyatt slips his fingers between mine and my eyes close at the familiar feeling. Strong and calloused, his hand wrapped around mine has always made me feel safe and loved.
“We can make this work,” he repeats. “How about we both snuggle with our daughter tonight?”
My heart soars, the thought of sharing a bed with Wyatt after all this time almost too much to handle. No, we’re not having sex. This isn’t even about being together. It’s about our daughter. He wants to be close to her, and he probably knows I won’t sleep if I’m not close to her.
That’s all this is.
That’s all it can be, right?
I’m not going to get my hopes up for something that isn’t going to happen. I need to take this one day at a time. One moment at a time. One conversation at a time.
If I don’t, I’ll break when my imagination runs in the wrong direction.
As we each take a spot next to Lola, I stare at Wyatt and wonder how I was ever lucky enough to find him. He’s watching Lola sleep, a look of awe on his face. His love for her is apparent in the way he’s looking at her, the fact that he pulls the covers up around her and tucks them under her chin.
He’s always been the caring type. The one who makes sure everyone else is okay. He puts the needs of others before his own. That’s why I don’t understand why my parents don’t like him. He’s the best person I know, yet because he doesn’t have as much money as they do, he’s not worthy of being a part of the family.
Well, tomorrow when I wake up, I plan to make them feel as small as they made me feel when I found out I was pregnant. They’ll know the feeling of being under someone else’s ridicule.
Tomorrow I begin righting all the wrongs that have been done.
As I fall asleep, my plans fall into place. Plans to knock my parents down a few pegs.
20
Taking control
The sun is shining in through the windows when I wake up. Rolling over, I’m alone in bed. Reaching over, the sheets are still warm where they were sleeping, so they couldn’t have gone far.
Their voices travel down the hall as I make my way into the kitchen. Lola is sitting on the counter, mixing something in a bowl. Wyatt’s next to her, adding ingredients. First eggs, then a dash of milk.
“Set that aside for a minute,” he says, helping her lift and move the bowl. “We need to heat up the griddle and soak the bread.”
French toast. Lola’s favorite.
Leaning against the wall, I watch as she tosses a piece of bread into the bowl and stabs it with a fork, flipping it over a few seconds later. They’re oblivious to the fact that I’m watching them.
The bond they already share, their complete acceptance of one another, as if they’ve never been apart, is mind-blowing. I was certain that it would take more than a few hours for them to be comfortable around each other. Apparently, I was wrong.
Especially Wyatt.
After spending five years apart, five years of silence, of missing out on time with his daughter, he’s stepping right up. Making the most of the days they have left together before life changes again.
The only question now is what happens next.
How do we make this work for everyone?
“How many pieces do you want?” I hear Wyatt ask Lola, but she doesn’t answer. When I look up, I see they’re both staring at me. That’s when I realize his question was not directed at her.
My cover is blown.
“Just two, thanks,” I reply, moving into the room and taking a seat at the counter.
Lola leans over and kisses me. “Morning, Momma.”
“Good morning, sweet girl. Did you sleep okay?”
“Daddy’s bed is comfy. I like it. We should sleep over here more often. Is that okay, Daddy?” she asks.
When I look up, Wyatt is watching me curiously. “I like that idea. Maybe your mom and I will talk about it later.”
“Okay,” she says, accepting his answer before stabbing the fork into the bowl again. “I think this one is ready.”
Wyatt places the pieces of soaked bread on the skillet, the sizzle causing Lola to lean back. She throws two more pieces into the bowl, stabbing at them as she flips them. The two of them work in tandem until there’s a plate overflowing with French toast.
“Can you go wake up Uncle Adam and Aunt Addy please?” Wyatt asks Lola as he gently lifts her off the counter. “Make sure you knock first, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy. Momma, will you cut up on toast the way I like it? I want two pieces.”
Before I can answer her, she’s skipping down the hall. I pray they’re both dressed when she barges in because Lord knows that girl will forget to knock.
“I have to get going in a few minutes. Are you coming down to the festival today?” Wyatt asks, handing me two plates piled with yummy goodness.
“Yeah, but I have something I need to do first.”
“Your parents?” he asks, his voice hesitant, mimicking the look on his face.
“Yeah. I think it’s time I talked to them.”
“Do you want me to take Lola with me?”
“Addy will watch her. I know you’re busy,” I reply, reaching for a knife to cut Lola’s toast into triangles the way she wants.
“I guess I’ll see you later, then,” he says as Lola bounds back in the room.
“Where are you going, Daddy?”
“I have to go to work for a few hours. You and your mom are going to come and see me later, okay?”
“I guess,” she says, the sadness in her voice breaking my heart. “Promise.”
“Promise what?”
“Promise I get to see you later.”
Oh, Lola. He’s not going anywhere. I want to tell her this, but the words won’t come out. My tears make an appearance instead. Wyatt notices them before I have a chance to wipe them away.
“I promise, sweetheart. I’ll see you in a little bit. I’m not going far.”
After Wyatt leaves and Lola has her breakfast, I pull Addy aside and tell her my plan. I need her to watch Lola while I go to my parents’ house. She wants to go with me, of course, but I need to do this on my own.
Borrowing Jones’s car, I drive the short distance back to my parents. When I pull in the driveway, I’m surprised to find my parents’ car parked outside. They always park in the garage. My father is particular about protecting the paint from the sun, rain, everything.
I’m barely two steps through the front door when my mother appears in front of me.
“Where have you been?” she asks.
“Where’s Daddy?” I don’t bother to answer her question; she knows exactly where I was.
“He’s in the dining room, reading the paper.”
Walking past her, I head in the direction of my father knowing she’ll follow. When I enter the room, he folds down the corner of the paper, sees that it’s just me, and flips it back up.
“I see you found your way
home.”
Home. I felt more at home in Wyatt’s house last night than I’ve ever felt at home here. Home is relative. Home is a place you should feel comfortable, safe, loved. I’ve never felt loved here. Not since I disappointed my parents.
“Something like that,” I reply, snatching the paper from his hands before taking the seat next to him.
“You need to mind your manners, young lady.” There’s not an ounce of anger in his voice. He sounds unaffected by my actions.
“We need to talk. All three of us,” I state firmly, looking over my shoulder to where my mother stands in the doorway.
“About what? That boy? We’ve had this conversation before, Chloe. I’m not sure what’s left to discuss,” my father says, his voice laced with disgust.
“That’s just it, Dad. We’ve never had this conversation. You and mom spoke to me, but that wasn’t a conversation, that was a dictation. I was told what to do, where to go, how to live my life. I’m not a child anymore. In fact, I haven’t been a child for a long time.”
“Look at the way you’re acting. Climbing out windows. Running away. You’re acting like a child.” My mother’s words come from far away and echo through the room.
It’s not even noon and she’s pouring herself a snifter of brandy. Is that what it takes to have this talk? Does she need to ease the pain with alcohol?
“If you’re referring to my escape plan last night, fine. I could have walked out the front door, but not without having this fight with you and I wasn’t in the mood. You both think you have all the answers. Well, I have news for you. You don’t. Neither do I. This situation isn’t one that you can control. It never was, yet you found a way to try and control it. To control me.
“Congratulations, it worked. For a while. But now I’m taking control. I’m going to do what’s best for Lola. She deserves to know her father and he deserves to be a part of his life. He’s a good man, he always has been, but you never wanted to give him a chance. He shouldn’t have had to try and prove himself to you, though from what he says, he’s been trying for years now.”
“Is this about him buying all the land from us?” my father asks.
“No. This isn’t about the pond, Dad. It’s more than that. It’s—”
“The pond? I forget we even sold him that land.”
“What land were you talking about then?”
“The fifteen hundred acres we sold him a few years ago, right before he bought the pond. For his little project.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but that’s not the point. This has nothing to do with land. This is about me and you, both of you. So here’s what it boils down to.
“I’m done taking orders from you. I’m done letting you make decisions for me. Decisions that I’ve never agreed with. Do you understand?”
My mother rolls her eyes when I look over at her and my father doesn’t bother to reply.
“Okay, let me try breaking it down for you, then. If you want to be a part of my life, of Lola’s life, you’re going to have to learn to accept Wyatt is also a part of our life. A big part. He’s Lola’s father. That’s not going to change. Whether we get back together or not, you’re going to be seeing a lot more of him. Lola loves him already, and I don’t plan on pulling them apart.
“So, it’s your decision. You can either be a part of my life, all parts of my life, or not. Wyatt and Lola are a package deal.”
Standing, I get ready to walk out when I hear my mother’s first whimper. It’s her signature fake cry. She wants attention. She wants people to feel bad for her, to cave to her needs, but she’s not sad.
“I’m sorry if this upsets you, but this is the way it has to be. I’m going upstairs to pack and then I’m leaving. Through the front door this time.”
An hour later, I’m back at Wyatt’s unloading my bags into his living room. Jones is right behind me, carrying most of Addy’s things and Lola’s tiny pink suitcase. I know we can’t stay here, but until I get us a room and my car from my parents, our things had to go somewhere.
“So what now?” Addy asks as I plop down on the couch.
“Well, I need to get my car, and I told Wyatt I would bring Lola downtown for the festival. I guess we could go do that. Did you hear that Jones?” I holler. “You win. I’m going to the festival.”
Peeking his head around the corner, there’s a sinister smile on his face. I scrunch up my eyebrows in confusion, but he disappears back into the kitchen when Lola calls him.
“Shall we, then?” Addy asks, standing and reaching down to pull me up.
Jones drops me off at my parents’ to grab my car. Worried my parents might cause a scene in front of Lola, I ask them to head into town with her. Addy agrees, the look on her face one of complete understanding.
As I’m backing out of the garage, I see my father standing in the middle of the driveway, blocking my exit. Knowing he’s not going to move, I throw my car in park and get out.
“What?” I ask, my detestation with him blatantly obvious.
“You mother and I would like to invite you over for dinner tonight. You, Lola, and Wyatt.” Suspicious of his motives, I cross my arms over my chest and tilt my head. “This is us trying, Chloe. We don’t want to lose you or Lola.”
“Fine,” I finally say. “I’ll ask Wyatt if he wants to come, but I won’t force him.”
“Thank you.”
Sliding back in my car, I back down the driveway slowly, my father waving as I go. I want to celebrate my victory. They heard what I said; they are finally taking me seriously. In the back of my mind, I can’t help but wonder why, though. Was is it because I threated to keep Lola from them, or do they finally understand the mistakes they’ve made?
My guess would be it has more to do with Lola than anything. And truth be told, I don’t want to keep her from them. She has a great relationship with my parents. I don’t want them to distort her view of Wyatt, though. They have a funny way of making people see things the way they do, the way they want them to be seen.
I fell victim to it, and I don’t want that for Lola. I’ll protect her at all costs.
21
Festival
After spending twenty minutes trying to find a place to park, I finally make it to the festival. The entire town has shown up for the festival. Familiar faces pass by me in a blur as I search for Lola, Jones, and Addy.
When a voice begins booming above, I follow the crowd toward the stage. Standing front and center is the man I saw Wyatt speaking to the other day. The Mayor.
“Thank you all for coming out today. As a community, we have a lot to celebrate,” he begins as cheers erupt around me.
What are they celebrating?
Sure, the town looks better than when I left. There are new businesses and it has a fresh look to it. The old school charm is still here, though. That’s what I always loved most about Fairview.
Aside from my parents and their circle of friends, the rest of the town didn’t care about money. It was about community, about being a part of things. People were nice, holding doors open for others and saying hello as you walked down the sidewalk. It didn’t matter if you were friends, acquaintances, or strangers.
In town, there were no social circles. No judgment.
Thankfully, I don’t see a change in that.
“To start off the celebration this year, I want to take a moment to thank our sponsors for this year’s event. Heavenly Bakery has graciously provided all the sweet treats you’ll find in the gazebo. Everything is for sale for only one dollar today, and all proceeds go straight to the renovation of the high school football field. Make sure you stop by and pick up a tasty treat,” he says, pointing behind me.
When I turn, I see my pretty girl standing front and center, her face covered in what looks like chocolate as she licks her fingers. She’s oblivious to the fact that everyone is staring at her, but Addy’s not. She whispers in Lola’s ear and hands her a napkin.
Too late. I’ve already s
een the evidence of her babysitting skills.
Making my way over to them, Addy hands Lola a second napkin when she spots me through the crowd. She doesn’t have enough time to clean her up before I get there.
“Momma!” Lola exclaims. “Aunt Addy bought me a brownie.”
Even if she had cleaned her up, Lola ousted her. I’m not surprised. She doesn’t know any better. I taught her not to keep secrets from me. After all the secrets I’ve kept over the years that have destroyed lives, I never want her to feel like she needs to keep anything from me.
“It looks like it was delicious,” I reply, taking the napkin from her hand and wiping away the last bit of evidence from her cheek.
“It was. Can we buy another one? The nice lady said that it’s for a good cause.”
“Maybe in a few minutes, sweet girl. Have you seen your daddy?” I ask, looking around for Wyatt.
“He’s on stage, momma. He’s getting an award,” she replies, pointing to Wyatt.
He’s seated behind the Mayor, looking nervous as hell. An award, huh? I wonder what for. When I look to Jones, he avoids eye contact.
“Well, why don’t we get closer so we can watch,” I say to Lola, taking her sticky hand in mine.
Jones and Addy follow closely behind us as we weave our way through the crowd. The mayor is still talking as we near the stage.
“Lastly, I’d like to personally thank the owner of Fairview Tavern. Not only has he donated a ton of money to make this festival possible, but he’s also the man who kickstarted this movement. Without his courage and tenacity, we might still be the Fairview of the past. An amazing town with a sad presence on the map. All that is about to change, and we have him to thank for it. But why don’t I let him tell you all about that? Please welcome Mr. Wyatt Beech to the stage.”
The crowd cheers as Wyatt stands, shaking the Mayor’s hand before taking the microphone from his hand. Wyatt attempts to quiet the crowd, but they continue to cheer and scream for him. Looking at Jones, I see he’s smiling from ear to ear, his pride shining through.
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