Van: Vested Interest #5

by Melanie Moreland

  I blinked. Swallowed. Stared at him. His gaze was intense and steady, his words firm. Finally, I whispered, “Got it.”

  “Good.” He raised his hand, beckoning the waitress. “Another order of bacon, please. And may I have more coffee?”

  She winked. “Sure, hun. Need to fuel that furnace of yours, eh?”

  He picked up his fork with a grin, throwing me a wink.

  “Oh, it’s fueled. I’m just waiting for the spark. I’m all set to explode.”

  I tried not to laugh.

  I failed.

  Sunday morning, I shifted on the park bench, waving at Sammy as she hung upside down. I covered my mouth, trying to hide the continuous yawns that kept escaping.

  I wasn’t sleeping well. I kept busy during the days, but once Sammy had gone to bed and I was alone, my thoughts were filled with Van. If I was being honest, he crept into my head during the day as well, but it was easier to push those thoughts aside when I had something else to concentrate on.

  He stuck to his promise, giving me space and not pushing me. Aside from our coffee date on Tuesday, we hadn’t been alone. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t trying.

  Every day, he brought me coffee and a treat from the café. They waited on my desk each morning. Twice, a small bunch of flowers had appeared. A pretty new day planner showed up in the middle of my desk, with penciled-in V’s filling in upcoming weekends and evenings. I was touched he remembered my need to jot down notes to jog my memory. And his gift made me smile.

  Regardless of where he was working from during the day, he called me every afternoon at two. He asked the same questions.

  “How’s your day going, Livvy?”

  “How’s Mouse?”

  “Anything you need?”

  And he always finished the call the same way.

  “I loved hearing your voice, and I miss you. I’ll call you tonight if that’s okay.”

  “Yes,” I would reply.

  “Okay. You know where I am if you need me.”

  Indeed, I did. I felt his presence everywhere. It was as if my body was tuned to his. I knew when he was in his office. I felt his absence when he left the building. I longed for two o’clock every day, and my nights were no longer complete without his call.

  The evening calls were different. Personal. He talked about his life in the band. Shared amusing stories of life on the road. Talked about his parents. Asked me countless questions about growing up and Sammy when she was a baby. It was as if he wanted to know as much about us as possible. I told him things I had never told anyone, and he listened.

  One night, he called earlier than normal. Sammy was still awake, and I put him on speaker. They talked for over thirty minutes. I realized it was the first time I had ever heard her talk to someone for that long aside from my mother or me.

  She was more than attached already.

  And I was beginning to think I was as well.

  I passed a weary hand over my face, feeling confused.

  How had Van Morrison slipped so deeply under my skin without me even realizing it?

  Then, as if I had conjured him up, he was there. Standing beside the park bench, a tray of steaming coffees in one hand and a brown bag in the other.

  I blinked at him in surprise.

  He looked nervous and worried.

  “I wanted to come and say hi. I thought we could have coffee together while you watched Mouse.” He hesitated. “If that’s okay?”

  The words were out before I could think. “Yeah. More than okay.”

  His smile was brilliant. He sat beside me, handing me a cup. Then he dug into the bag and handed me one of his favorite lemon Danishes. Sammy spotted him and, with a whoop of delight, ran toward us. Van set down the food and met her partway, bending low to catch her. I felt a lump build in my throat. He was as happy to see her as she was to see him. He brought her to the bench and sat her on his knee, listening to her rapid conversation as she tried to fill him in on her life since she last saw him.

  “Whoa, take a breath, Sammy,” I chuckled.

  “But, Mommy, I have to tell Mr. Van about the spelling bee! I won second place!”

  He ruffled her hair. “Good job, Mouse.”

  She grimaced. “The last word was too hard. But Mommy says I learned something new.” She peeked into the bag. “Is one of these for me?”

  He chuckled and handed her another lemon Danish, then opened a small container of milk. He pulled out the last Danish, and together, they munched. There was a running commentary between bites, and I was content to sip my coffee and watch them together. Van’s immense form filled the park bench, and Sammy looked so small on his knee. He kept one arm wrapped around her in a protective gesture, and my heart warmed at the sight. He listened intently, although his gaze drifted to me often. When she finished her snack, she jumped up, demanding he watch her as she went back to playing.

  He produced a wet-nap from his pocket. “You know the drill, Mouse. Hands up.”

  Giggling, she held out her fingers, and he gently wiped the sticky icing from them. He tapped the end of her nose. “You go play, and I’ll watch as I talk to Mommy, okay?”

  She flung her arms around his neck, squeezing him. “I’m so glad you’re here! I missed you!” She scampered off.

  He sat back, finally opening his own coffee and sipping. He was quiet for a few moments, then stretched his arms casually along the back of the bench.

  “You look tired,” he observed. “You feeling okay, Livvy?”

  “I’m good, Van. No need to worry about me.”

  “But I do.” I felt his fingers tangle in my hair, rubbing the strands.

  “I miss you,” he murmured. “Both of you.”

  My breath caught, but I wasn’t sure what to say.

  “Any chance you might miss me?” he asked, his voice tense. “I know it’s only been a week, but it feels like longer to me.”

  I glanced at his profile. He was watching Sammy, his jaw tight, the strain around his eyes evident. The need to ease his pain stirred within me.

  “Yeah,” I sighed. “We both do.”

  He exhaled long and hard. “That’s good to hear.”

  “I’m not ready yet, Van.”

  He leaned forward, his elbows braced on his knees. “I know. I told you I would wait.”

  Sammy called to him and he stood. “I’m not giving up, Liv.”

  Then before I could say anything, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “And I’m not going anywhere. You let me know when you’re ready to move forward.”

  Then he hurried toward Sammy and played with her. My heart swelled watching them together—the gentle giant and my daughter.

  I thought about my fears. Although he had overreacted with Vicky, his anger hadn’t been directed at me. It was born out of worry and fear of what she would say or do, not something I had done. He had apologized, more than once, and shown me nothing but patience and care every day.

  And I did miss him. I missed everything about him. Especially his touch and the way he looked at me.

  I ran a hand over my head, weary and confused. Was I ready to move forward? Could I trust him? Could I trust myself?

  The low rumble of his laughter caught my attention. He was on the ground, Sammy lifted high on his feet as he supported her with his hands. She was laughing with him, her trust in him absolute.

  Their antics made me chuckle.

  Van made me happy.

  Were we more attached than I realized, as I had thought earlier?

  I thought perhaps I had my answer.

  Van

  Tuesday morning, the sky was overcast and gray. It matched my mood. I hadn’t slept much lately, and the early call I’d had made me tense. I wasn’t sure how Liv was going to react. I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle the day. I had kept my promise as best I could. But the daily phone calls to Liv were all I had, and she hadn’t asked me to stop. I sensed a growing closeness happening between us, and I hoped I wasn’t wrong.r />
  I pulled up to the curb and climbed out of the truck. Liv was waiting, looking over my shoulder toward the cab.

  “I thought you were picking up Bentley?” she asked, confused. “More Braxton Hicks with Emmy?”

  “He called me about five a.m. Her water broke and she started having contractions—the real kind—and they’re on their way to the hospital.”

  “Oh!”

  “I asked him if he wanted us to handle it today, and he said he’d be grateful. He didn’t want more time to pass, and he wasn’t sure when he’d be able to make the time over the next while. I told him it wasn’t a problem.” I eyed her speculatively. “Is it a problem, Liv? Should I call Bentley and tell him we need to reschedule?”

  She straightened her shoulders. “No, it’s fine. Mom is taking Sammy after day care, and they’re having a sleepover, so my day is free. If we put it off, there could be an issue since my mom is going to Florida to see her sister next week, and I would have to make other arrangements for Sammy.”

  “Well then, I guess it’s just us.”

  “Right.”

  She shifted on her feet, obviously feeling as uncomfortable as I was at the moment. I didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize the subtle changes in our relationship.

  I opened the door, offering her my hand. “Let’s go, Liv. I need coffee and a breakfast sandwich for the road.”

  She began to scramble up into the cab when I noticed the bandage around her ankle. I stilled her actions. “What happened?”

  She grimaced self-consciously. “I slipped off the bottom rung of the ladder yesterday. It’s nothing.”

  Without asking, I slid my arm around her waist and lifted her into the truck. I didn’t want her to hurt herself trying to climb in with a bad ankle. I grabbed the seat belt and buckled her in. I didn’t fail to notice the way her hands gripped my biceps, or the way they lingered on my body.

  “Okay?” I asked, my voice gruff even to my own ears.

  Her hands dropped to her lap. “Oh, um, yes. Thanks.”

  I stepped back, even though everything in me wanted to lift her face and kiss her. Even though all I wanted to do was to pull her into my arms and hold her until she told me she was wrong and didn’t need any time. That we could move on together.

  But I didn’t know if she was ready, and I didn’t want to push. She was still on guard and might always be. I had probably blown my chance with her because of my temper. It didn’t come out very often, but when it did, it wasn’t pretty.

  I crossed the front of the truck and climbed into the driver’s seat, holding in my sigh.

  It was going to be a long day.

  We finally found the overgrown road leading to the secluded cabin. I carefully maneuvered the truck up the steep, beaten track that once passed as a driveway. The ruts and broken limbs made the hill bumpy and treacherous. It was badly planned, filled with twists and turns, making it difficult to navigate. Even in low gear, the truck slid on the overgrowth, and the low-hanging branches slapped against the sides of the cab. Liv held on to the handle with a death grip. She was already pale, and I could see this part of the drive was making her nervous. Without taking my hands off the wheel, I spoke.

  “It’s okay, Liv. It’s solid, just neglected. Nothing is going to happen to you when you’re with me. I’ve got you.”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw her deep exhale.

  “I know,” she whispered.

  I wished she believed those words.

  We hit the top of the hill, and each of us was grateful. I pulled close to the cabin and slammed the truck into park. Liv turned slightly in her seat.

  “How bad is it going to be going down?”

  “It’s going to be fine. The truck is more than capable of getting us down safely.”

  She peeked out of the window. “Even if it’s raining?”

  I opened the door and crossed to her side of the truck. I lifted her down and carefully set her on the uneven ground. “Even if it’s raining.” I paused and held out my hand. “It’s slippery. I think you should hold on to me.”

  I kept my face impassive as she threaded her fingers through mine. Simply the feel of her small hand tucked into mine made my heart beat faster. She stepped closer, and her foot caught on the wet undergrowth, causing her to stumble. She lurched forward, barreling into my chest, and instantly, I wrapped my arm around her waist, steadying her. For a moment, I felt her in the safety of my embrace. Warm. Small. Perfect.

  Then she stepped back, her eyes downcast as she mumbled an apology.

  “Not a problem, Liv,” I assured her, shutting the door, disappointment making my voice low. “Watch your step, though. It’s hazardous underfoot.” I shortened my stride to stay beside her. The ground was treacherous beneath our feet, and though she had accepted my hand, I wasn’t sure she would allow me to carry her. We rounded the corner, and both of us stopped and stared.

  “Oh, wow,” Liv breathed as we walked toward the front of the property.

  Below us, the Niagara River wound its way through a maze of curves and angles. Huge expanses of trees lined the banks. Sunlight peeked through the clouds, the muted light glinting off the water, a vast span of blue and green swirling with the waves that rolled and broke on the surface. Boats made their way down the channel. A few cottages dotted the landscape, but they were so far away, it was as if you were set high above the world, looking down. The scenery was spectacular.

  “A million-dollar view,” I mused.

  “It’s breathtaking.”

  I glanced down at her. The diffused light caught her hair, casting a glow around her face. Her golden eyes were wide and awed.

  “Yes,” I agreed. “It’s breathtaking.”

  She glanced up, her eyes meeting mine. They widened, the emotions she fought to hide from me blatant. The want she denied. The need. The fear. I saw it all. I wanted to fix it all. Calm her fears, take away the want and fulfill every need she had. I pivoted on my heel, turning toward her. I opened my mouth to speak, but she backed away, breaking our gaze. She turned and limped away.

  “We should check out the cabin.”

  I followed her, tapping down my impatience. She was running again.

  This time, however, she could only go so far.

  I noticed the way her hand shook as she fumbled with the keys. The heavy door creaked in protest as it swung inward. Without thinking, I went ahead of her, unsure as to what condition the cabin would be inside. I didn’t want her falling in a hole or coming face-to-face with a raccoon who had made a nest inside the abandoned cabin.

  “Wait here,” I stated firmly. I held my flashlight high, pleased to see everything intact. I crossed the room and pushed back the heavy material covering the windows, allowing the light to fill the room. I turned around, my gaze sweeping the space. Liv shut the door, moving forward, her eyes scanning, taking in the same things I was seeing.

  “Great bones,” I murmured.

  “Yes.”

  “Want to explore?”

  Her excitement was evident. “Yes!”

  For the next while, we were simply coworkers. We went through the cabin, each of us looking from a different angle yet on the same page. It was a simple layout. A large main room with a kitchen/eat-in area to one side. Two good-sized bedrooms and a shared bath. I was pleased to see the structure was solid, well-built, and sturdy. It was in desperate need of repairs and refurbishing, but I had every confidence Liv would make it spectacular. I already had ideas on improvements. Leaving Liv to think, I scoped the outside, noting the large space around the cabin. I had a feeling Liv would want to do some expansion, and there was plenty of room. I drew in long, calming lungfuls of the fresh air, studying the rapidly darkening sky, all evidence of sunlight now gone. In the distance, I could hear the rumble of thunder, and I knew the rain Liv worried about was going to happen soon.

  Returning to the interior, I noticed there was some furniture in the cabin, and I lifted one of the heavy dustcovers,
surprised to see a chaise lounge in deep blue leather hidden underneath. I tossed the cover on the floor and sat, watching Liv. She had her sketch pad out, her hand flying over the page as she walked around. Even given the frustration I was feeling, I enjoyed watching her work—creating something new from the old.

  She paused in front of the dirty windows. “Could these be removed?”

  “Yeah. I was thinking of sliding glass doors to make the most of the view.”

  She spoke eagerly. “Yes. A huge flagstone patio with a fire pit.”

  “What vibe are you going with? Does Bentley want modern or traditional?”

  She flashed me a grin. “He gets both. Traditional with all the modern requirements hidden. I want to add to the rustic feel. Reclaimed wood floors. A cool texture to the walls. Skylights to add more sun. A huge hearth over the fireplace.”

  “I was thinking about adding logs to the outside.”

  “Yes! A log cabin in the woods. It’s the right setting.”

  “Tell me your plans.”

  “We gut it. Blow out the front and make it the focal point.” She indicated the left side. “Can you expand that wall? Make a sunroom off the kitchen for a dining area?”

  I knew it.

  “I think so. We’ll need planning approval, but as long as we’re sympathetic to the land, we should get it.”

  “We can upgrade everything and make it a retreat.”

  “What about the bedrooms?”

  “They’re a good size. Maybe we can add to the perimeter of the whole place?”

  “It’s all on a slab, so it can be done. We can get Jordan to check the building codes. There’s enough space, so I think it can easily be accomplished. What about outside? You want to add to that?”

  She tilted her head in thought. “A patio and fire pit, maybe a gazebo closer to the edge of the property?” She set down her sketchbook. “I want to go and see what kind of slope or edge there is to deal with.”