Caroline passed the people sitting at the counter with a nod and a hello, but kept her feet moving toward a booth in the back. The table there still had a lipstick-smudged coffee cup and a two-dollar tip sitting on it, but she slid in with her back to the front of the café anyway.
Rickie Ralston, Madeline’s twenty-year-old son who had Down syndrome, hurried to her table. “Sorry,” he said while he bused the dirty dishes and wiped the tabletop.
“No problem,” Caroline said with a smile. “How are you this morning, Rickie?”
He picked up the tub of dirty dishes and grinned—Rickie had a grin that could melt iron. “Real good. I only have to work until noon today.”
“Have any plans for your afternoon off?”
His eyes lit up. “Dad’s taking me to the movies.” He moved toward the next booth.
“You have fun.”
Madeline came out from the kitchen. “Hi there, Caroline. Hope you’re not here for a cinnamon bun; the mayor got the last one.”
From behind her, Caroline heard a familiar voice say, “What! No cinnamon buns?”
She turned in her seat and saw Mick standing with his hands in his jacket pockets. Her heart did a little giddyup at the sight of him. She tried to suppress her excitement, and said, “That’ll teach us to dillydally.” She turned her gaze to Madeline. “Just coffee for me, then.”
“Me, too.” Mick stepped closer and motioned toward the vacant seat with the hand that was still inside his pocket. “Mind having company?”
“Be my guest.” She’d come in here needing coffee and solitude, but the idea of sitting across from Mick was infinitely more appealing than solitude. Appealing and risky. Last night at the football field he’d shown his character to be so much stronger than that of other men—say, Kent, for example—that she’d fallen just a little bit in love. Which was why she’d been so adamant about him not going for pizza with them. She doubted that her resolve to keep her emotional distance from Mick Larsen would withstand many more side-by-side comparisons of him and Kent.
Now here he was, sitting across from her, and her entire being tingled with possibilities.
After he sat down, he took off his jacket. “You look like you had a hard night—I mean, beyond that stuff at the game.” There was just a hint of suggestive allegation in his voice.
If she were smart, she’d let him think that Kent had been the reason for her sleepless night. That could resolve any romantic interest he might have in her. Looking at him across from her now, handsome and confident and interested, she realized how difficult it would be for her to walk away if he opened that door to his inner self again. Even so, she just couldn’t let him think she was sleeping with Kent. It felt like… cheating.
“Sister/motherhood. Smotherhood—that sounds about right at the moment.”
He looked pleased. And unfortunately, that pleased her. She reminded herself that it wasn’t fair to begin something with a guy like Mick—one who took feelings and relationships seriously—not now, when she was months away from leaving.
It was different with Kent—a man who’d shown he didn’t have feelings or care about relationships beyond the conquest. She and Kent had more of a mutual using of one another going. When she left Redbud Mill, they’d both walk away from this unattached and unscathed.
Mick looked concerned (whereas Kent would have changed the subject). “Trouble with your brother again?”
Madeline delivered their coffees and a little pitcher of cream, then left.
Caroline stirred cream into her coffee. “Not this time. It’s Macie.”
“More trouble with a Ferris wheel?” He grinned and Caroline fell just a little more in love. What was it about him that touched her so much more deeply than anyone she’d ever met?
She shelved foolish romantic thoughts. “I wish. More trouble with the boy.”
He didn’t say anything, just waited in what she imagined to be his best professional silent-urging-to-continue pause. And as much as she didn’t want to share her problems, she could use a little positive reinforcement at the moment. Who better to deliver it than a man who specialized in adolescent psychiatry?
She sighed, rubbed her temples, then said, “This boy Macie is dating is so bad for her—and nothing I do or say can make her see it. Nearly the instant he came into her life, she began to change. Overnight, she’s evolved from a responsible, respectful girl into someone I barely recognize.”
“Drugs?”
Aghast, she said, “No!”
“Lawbreaking?”
“Again, no.”
“Grades gone to hell?”
“She’s still an A student—still perfect to the outside world. But she’s belligerent and sometimes doesn’t talk to me for days—it’s like she doesn’t want me to know what she’s doing. She used to share what was going on in her life.”
Mick rotated his coffee cup in place in front of him. Caroline caught herself watching the movement of his fingers; he had very nice hands.
He said, “Didn’t you tell me once that you worried about her needing more self-confidence?”
“Yes, but—”
“But you don’t want that self-confidence to strain against your control—to take her away from you.”
“That’s not it at all.” It wasn’t. She worried Macie was headed down a dangerous path. “How am I supposed to protect her if she rebels against everything I say?”
Mick said, “So there are really two issues here; your need to protect and Macie’s need for independence. Classic teen/parent conflict.”
“I don’t think so—she’d always been so much more adult than other kids; she’d always had her priorities right; she excels in everything. In fact, she’s just made the volleyball team as a senior and is a starter. She’s completely changed her body in a few short weeks to get it done. She’s always been determined, but she never needed to butt heads just to prove a point. Why would she change now that she’s nearly grown? It’s that boy.”
“Maybe. But is that necessarily bad? Maybe he’s given her the self-confidence she’s needed to stand her ground. Since she’s most comfortable with you—you’re going to be the first to feel the resistance. Most kids act this out long before they’re seventeen. It’ll be a good learning experience for her. From what you’ve told me about her, she’s not likely to do anything radical. Kids don’t change their basic makeup that quickly.”
Caroline felt her cheeks heating. “I wouldn’t bank on that.” Before she had a chance to censor herself, she said, “Okay, here’s the whole, dirty deal. It’s not just back talk and staying out past curfew. At three o’clock this morning I went into her room and he was in there with her.”
Mick’s eyes didn’t register the shock Caroline had anticipated. Well, of course, she thought, he dealt with angry disobedient teenagers all of the time. Besides, it wasn’t his sister who was at risk.
He poured cream in his coffee, then asked, “They were having sex?”
“Not at that moment.”
“They were naked?” He asked these questions as if he were asking if she wanted sugar in her coffee.
“Well, no. They said they were just talking. But they were both on her bed—I know where it was headed.”
“Have you asked your sister if she’s sexually active?”
“Like she’s going to tell me the truth,” Caroline said acerbically.
“She’s seventeen. You’re her guardian, sure, but you’re closer to her in age than a parent. You say she’s always shared details of her life with you. Yes, I think if you approached it right she would answer you honestly.”
Caroline crossed her arms. “For your information, I did ask. She said she’s a virgin and plans to stay that way, at least for the immediate future. Then she added that Caleb was the one who insisted they wait. She must think I’m a complete idiot.”
Mick looked contemplative for a moment.
“You think I’m an idiot!”
“No, I wasn’t thinking tha
t at all. I think you’re acting as any parent would. But I also think your sister could be telling the truth.”
“What in the hell makes you say that?” So much for the positive reinforcement she’d been looking for.
He asked quietly, “Did something happen that made them feel the need to ‘talk’ in the middle of the night?”
“What? What does that have to do with anything?”
“It has everything to do with everything. Was there a logical reason to back up their explanation of the situation?”
Caroline sighed, feeling more exhausted by the minute. She shook her head and gave a dismissive gesture with her hands when she said, “I don’t know… Macie said it was about Caleb’s brother. But I think she was just working me; she didn’t want me to be right.”
“Whoa, there,” he said gently. “Let’s back up a step. What about Caleb’s brother?”
“I found out last night that Caleb’s older brother is in prison for beating someone nearly to death. I told Macie—who swore it wasn’t true because Caleb would have told her. She said she’d called him and found out I was right. It upset her that Caleb hadn’t been honest, they argued, then she turned off her phone. Supposedly that’s why Caleb showed up in the middle of the night.”
“And thinking of your emotional self at seventeen, you don’t see that this could very well be the truth?”
Caroline sat for a moment, chewing her lip.
Mick continued, “Seventeen-year-old brains don’t process the same way adult brains do. I can see validity in each one of the steps that they say led up to him being in her room. Teens feel a desperate need for immediate resolution; that’s why so many of them make such horrible decisions.”
“So, you’re on their side.”
“I’m not on any side. I’m telling you what I understand from experience. I also know that I wouldn’t have reacted any differently if I’d found a boy in my daughter’s bed in the middle of the night. Just because the story is true, doesn’t mean what they did was right.”
“Oh.” She folded her hands in front of her on the table.
He reached across the table and put his hand over hers. That contact made her yearn for more, to crawl over into his lap and let him take care of her and her problem siblings.
He said, “It’s a rough road, getting teenagers through to adulthood—sometimes we fail.”
“Well, easy for you to say; you don’t have to deal with the fallout if I make the wrong decisions.”
Suddenly he looked as if she’d slapped him. He jerked his hand away. His face blanched, his jaw grew rigid, and his eyes… oh, the pain she saw in those eyes.
And for a moment, Caroline felt that door hiding whatever devil dwelt inside him open just a crack. Lucky for her, he was the one who closed it. He drew a breath, then said, “All I’m saying is, try to keep the communication open. If there’s a chance she’s speaking the truth, don’t kill her trust by not believing her.”
“You think I shouldn’t punish her.”
“Oh, no, I didn’t say that. But keep in mind, this time next year, she’s going to be making all of her decisions without you there to censor her. You have to let her begin to build the skills to do it.”
Caroline buried her face in her hands and groaned. On a better, stronger day, she might have taken offense to his interference. But today, she just didn’t have the clarity of thought to be certain she was handling things in the best way.
“This is why I’m never having children,” she muttered as she uncovered her face.
“Aw, you’ll get over it,” he said with a laugh.
She looked at him. “I’m serious. I’ve already raised two kids—who, by the way, are still far from responsible, independent adults. Starting next spring, I’m going to be able to do the things I’ve been putting off; focus on my career.”
He looked at her with seriousness in his gaze. “That sounds like Kimberly.”
“Is that why she’s an ex-girlfriend?” Caroline couldn’t squelch her curiosity.
“One of many reasons.” After a moment’s pause, he asked, “Don’t you think a woman can have a career and children?”
“Not and do either of them justice.” She shifted in her seat. “Even with kids as old as Macie and Sam, there are conflicts. Here’s a perfect example. I’ve sent my portfolio to several magazines. In the next couple of weeks, if I’m lucky, I’ll be getting a call for an interview. How can I go to New York and leave Macie here, knowing she most likely won’t behave while I’m gone?”
“May I suggest she stay with a friend?” He made it sound so simple, so logical.
“Yes, I suppose she can stay with Laurel, but isn’t that just shoveling my problem off on Laurel’s parents?”
“It’s asking for help when you need it. People do it all the time.”
“I don’t.”
“Maybe you should.” He touched her hand again. “Caroline, no one expects you to carry the load alone.”
“Sam and Macie are my responsibility. Even if I do manage to land a job, I’m going to feel guilty and torn. What if one of them needs me and I’m not right here? How responsible would I be if I had more children under the same circumstances?”
“If you had kids of your own, you’d have their father to help you fill in the gaps.”
She pulled her hand away and tucked it in her lap. “I just can’t see it happening.”
There was so much more going on in the undercurrents of this conversation that Caroline felt like she was trying to trudge through quicksand. It was becoming clear that she and Mick truly were on different tracks, wanted different things from their lives. And Caroline had never felt so drawn to a man. Was she that much her mother’s daughter, wanting only the men who were worlds away from what she needed, the men destined to deliver pain and unhappiness?
He said, “It’s only impossible if you want it to be.”
Holding his gaze, she said the words she’d probably regret in the deep of lonely nights. “Then I guess it is.”
Chapter 15
The specter of Caroline’s obsessive attraction to Mick chased her around for days. No matter how busy she kept herself, or how often she told herself the exaggeration that she was “dating” Kent, Mick lingered around her like an invisible web into which she repeatedly walked.
The worst had been photographing the wedding. He’d been there, buried deep in her heart, making her view the whole ceremony in an entirely different light. She’d thought time away from him would lessen his effect, but she’d been wrong. His face was the last thing that graced her mind before she fell asleep. He was there when she approached conversations with Macie. He was beside her as she worked in the darkroom.
And he had been there minutes ago when she’d received the phone call from National Geographic granting her an interview. She’d barely been able to form articulate sentences during the conversation. National Geographic was the top of the heap, after all, the brilliant star she’d almost been afraid to reach for.
She should feel unabashed joy; but there was the thinnest shadow dimming her happiness, the shadow of possibilities lost.
After she’d hung up from that call, she’d immediately picked up the telephone again. Mick was the only person with whom she wanted to share the news. Then she’d realized she didn’t know his phone number; how could she feel this way about someone whose phone number she didn’t even know?
Heedless of logic, she called information. That gave her time to come to her senses. How could she set an example for Macie by directing her decisions with her head instead of her heart if she couldn’t control her own infatuation with Mick Larsen?
She didn’t call him, but she couldn’t help writing down the number. For a few moments, she stood there and looked at those seven digits on the scrap of paper.
Then she walked away from temptation, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans. She wouldn’t think about National Geographic anymore, because that just renewed her desire to call Mick.
For the past few days, this photo had become an obsession to rival her infatuation with Mick. Although the police had yet to arrest a suspect, they continued to dismiss the possibility that Caroline’s mystery man was responsible. She wished there was a rational way to describe her certainty that he was involved, something that the police would pay attention to. Beyond the man’s photo-documented uncharacteristic reaction to the explosion, it was nothing but intuition.
Finally, she could stare at the computer screen no longer. She put her feet up on her desk, leaned back in her chair, and closed her tired, dry eyes.
What would her life be like this time next year? Where would she be? Always before when she’d played this little game with herself, she’d felt a thrill of excitement. It seemed odd, now that she was actually taking a step toward fulfilling her dream, that the giddiness didn’t come.
Nerves. That was it. She didn’t want to get her hopes up. She’d just put it out of her mind until she actually went to D.C. for the interview. Instead, she thought of what she needed to do here at home. There was still the Kentucky Department of Tourism contract to fulfill. She sifted through possible sites that would photograph well in winter; those scenes that would be enhanced by the starkness and monochromatic hues of a gray day with brown grass and naked trees. Then she thought of those that would convey their essence most clearly with a new snowfall and cold blue skies.
Her mind eventually wandered to those photos she’d already used in her Kentucky Blue calendar. Would the bureau be interested in any of those?
One by one, she re-created the pictures in her mind: the Natural Bridge, the rough stone dusted with reflective snow and surrounded by tree branches glistening with frozen fog (she’d nearly gotten frostbite hiking out there to take that one when the rising sun was just right); the Rogers’ farm barn and silo in the grays and blues of a snowy predawn (that was the one she’d had her dad hold the cows for); that little cemetery tucked in the Appalachians (she’d just happened upon that one); Crystal Onyx Cave; that fabulous horse farm outside Lexington; the Morgan County courthouse; the black bear in Kingdom Come State Park (a great photo really boiled down to patience; she’d had to lie in one spot for hours. By the time the bear showed up, her legs had gone to sleep and she’d had to roll around on the ground for a while before she could stand up); the Ferris wheel (she couldn’t think of that one and not think of Mick); the Redbud Millers’ home-field victory in the football sectional—
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