by Beth Wiseman
“Second, there isn’t anything to steal in my house even if you were so inclined.” He paused, smiling a little. “And I don’t think you’re so inclined anyway.” He held out his hand again. “So, see you Monday morning?”
Hunter shook his hand, nodded, and went on down the street toward the resale shop. He did his best to keep a straight face, but he felt like laughing and yelling.
I got a real job. Working in the AC. And for a lot of money.
Brooke’s kids had been driving her bonkers since Tuesday, wanting to know when they could go back to Mr. Saunders’s house. So odd. Spencer seemed to really like the guy, now that Owen had assured him he had no plans to date her. Maybe her children were starved for male attention. Briefly she thought about her father, but quickly disregarded that idea. Spencer was probably just intrigued about the prospect of a hidden bunker somewhere in Owen’s house.
“Why can’t we go over there?” Spencer leaned against the store counter in front of Brooke while she totaled store receipts for the day.
“We aren’t going to invite ourselves to Mr. Saunders’s house just because you want to look for a secret bunker.” Brooke stapled the receipts and put them on the counter. She raised an eyebrow. “Because I know that’s why you want to go over there.”
Spencer shrugged. “It’s just a cool house.”
“And he’s nice.” Meghan shifted her weight on the stool where she was sitting beside Brooke but didn’t look up from her coloring book as she pressed down with a blue crayon.
Brooke had more on her mind than Owen Saunders and his house. She hadn’t spoken to her mother since Tuesday, and she missed her. She felt guilty too; they’d never had such harsh words. But try as she might, Brooke couldn’t wrap her mind around the situation with her father. She cringed. What is Mom thinking? Her mother had tried to call several times, but Brooke hadn’t answered, and her mom hadn’t left a message.
Her cell phone chirped to indicate a text message. She glanced down at the display. It was from Judy Delgado. Apparently last week’s sleepover had gone so well that Judy wanted the kids to sleep over again tonight.
Brooke had mixed feelings. As nice as it was to have some time alone, that’s exactly what it was—time alone. Too much time with her thoughts, especially when it was two weekends in a row. But she conceded, knowing the kids liked being at Judy and Rick’s. She did too, actually. She and Travis used to hang out with them all the time. But all their couple friends had continued their lives while Brooke had holed herself away just trying to survive her grief, and Brooke felt the distance.
An hour and a half later she had dropped off the kids, made it home, and was standing in the kitchen with the refrigerator open when her cell phone rang again. This time she was busy studying possibilities for dinner and didn’t check the caller ID.
“I’ve been trying to reach you, and I was going to leave a message this time if you didn’t answer.”
Brooke closed the refrigerator, then leaned against it and sighed. “How could you do this, Mom?”
“I want to tell you how it happened. I’d heard your father had moved back to town, but that’s all I knew. Then on one of the ladies’ shopping trips, I ran into him at the mall. We started talking, Brooke, and it was as if no time had gone by.”
Brooke grunted. “Mother, twenty years has gone by.” She shook her head and pinched her eyes closed as she recalled her father walking out the door with nothing but a backpack swung over his shoulder. “And exactly where has he been all this time? Does he have another family? Has he been in jail? What? I’d like to know.”
“You know he’s been in Seattle working. I told you that when I received his last letter.”
Brooke had quit opening her father’s letters a long time ago. “Whatever.”
They were quiet for a few moments before her mother said, “Due to health issues, he wanted to come home.”
“Home? Is that what he calls Smithville?” Brooke laughed as she turned around and yanked the refrigerator door open again. Spying half of a chocolate bar, she grabbed it and peeled back the wrapper. She took a huge bite, then talked with her mouth full. “Mom, he had an affair and walked out on us.”
“But he left us everything. The business and plenty of money.”
“He broke our hearts. How can you defend him, much less . . .” She choked down the rest of the candy bar.
“Brooke, he’s really very sorry. And I hate it that you’re hurting, but I want us to be a family again. I want him to get to know you and to meet his grandchildren. Can’t you open your heart? Even just a little?”
Brooke was quiet, wishing she had more chocolate.
“Don’t you think God would want—”
“Don’t throw God into this. I’ve relied on God for everything my entire life—when Daddy left, when Travis died, everything. But God would not expect me to just invite that man back into my life again after all this time.”
“Of course He would.”
Brooke ground her teeth and chose to redirect the conversation. “Mom, how did he coerce you into this? I know it’s not his looks because he’s skinny and bald. So is it . . .” Brooke gasped. “He wants money, doesn’t he? That’s why he’s back.”
“He doesn’t want money, and he has a nice apartment outside of town.”
“Then why didn’t you stay at his place instead of making a spectacle of yourselves by playing smoochy-smoochy outside of your apartment?”
“Because your father knows I don’t sleep well when I’m not in my own bed, and before we remarried, he was sleeping on the couch anyway.”
Brooke stiffened. “Stop calling him my father. He lost that right. And you’ve lost your mind for remarrying him.”
“Can he at least meet Spencer and Meghan?”
Brooke could hear the quiver in her mother’s voice, but it didn’t matter. “No, Mom. I don’t want him around my children. And if you can’t understand that, then search your memory and think about how it was for us after he left. He didn’t care anything about his family, so why should I trust him with mine?”
They were silent for a few moments before her mother spoke up. “We all make mistakes.”
“Yeah, well, his was a big one.” Brooke paced the kitchen, shaking her head.
“I’m going to let you go now, dear. Give you some time. But just know that I love you very much.”
Brooke blinked back tears. “I love you too, Mom. I really do. But time isn’t going to change the way I feel.”
She hung up feeling all the sadness and bitterness of the past two years. She wanted to kick something, hit someone, yell, or scream. She resisted the temptation to yell at God, to ask Him why all this was happening. The Lord had been her rock for her entire life, the One to see her through the tough times. She wasn’t going to turn on Him now. But she felt reckless, in need of a distraction. Picking up her cell phone, she dialed Owen’s number. He answered on the second ring. After a few pleasantries, she got to the point.
“I was just wondering if you wanted another movie night. My kids are at a sleepover again.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “The offer comes with dinner. Nothing fancy. Just a beef and noodle casserole that I’d planned to make.”
“Hmm.”
Why did I do this? She shook her head. He was going to turn her down, and she was going to feel like an idiot.
“Does it mean that I’ll have to watch another chick flick?”
Brooke smiled. “Maybe.”
“Hmm.”
“But you’ll get a home-cooked meal out of it.”
“I’ll grab my tissues and be on my way.” He chuckled.
Brooke laughed, then glanced around the house. Meghan’s dolls were piled in the middle of the floor, and there was a trail of playing cards leading from the kitchen into the living room. That was just what she could see from where she was standing. “Give me an hour. Actually, an hour and a half, if that’s okay.”
“Sounds good. Thanks.”
; She hung up the phone, still feeling a bit reckless and longing for something, even though she wasn’t sure what it was. She might not be able to change her mind where her father was concerned, but other areas in her mind were working overtime.
After a shower and shave, Owen pulled on a clean pair of blue jeans, a light-green polo shirt, and his brown flip-flops. As he looked in the mirror, he recalled Virginia saying this shirt was his best color. Why does every single thought have to be attached to her?
He combed his hair, put on aftershave, and pondered why Brooke was inviting him over for dinner while her children were away. Was he reading too much into it? Maybe he hadn’t been clear about his intentions. He’d thought she was pretty up front about hers.
Deciding this was just two lonely souls watching movies and having dinner, he left for her house.
But when Brooke opened the door, she didn’t look like any lonely soul he’d ever seen. She didn’t even look like the same person he’d been hanging out with lately.
Twelve
Owen swallowed hard and tried not to react to Brooke’s new look. Her super-high heels put her almost at eye level with him. She wore a short denim skirt and a tight-fitting yellow shirt. Her hair was long and flowing past her shoulders, and she had on more makeup than he’d ever seen her wear.
“You look great,” he said as she stood in the doorway, although he much preferred her baseball cap, ragged jeans, and flip-flops. He glanced down at his own flip-flops. “I, uh, feel underdressed.”
“Don’t be silly. Come on in.” She pulled the door wide and stepped aside.
“It smells great in here.” Owen didn’t feel nearly as comfortable as he did the other night, and it wasn’t just because her children weren’t home. Something was different.
“Thanks. The table’s all set.” She motioned for him to follow her into the dining room. Alarms were blaring in his head so loudly that he could hardly think. Candles were lit, and it looked like the good dishes were in place. Then he noticed real napkins. Virginia used to use the cloth napkins when she was trying to impress someone.
“Looks great.” Owen had pictured them in front of her television, feet propped up on the coffee table, eating off paper plates. He sat down across from her, and when she folded her hands and bowed her head, he did the same. As she blessed the food, Owen opened one eye and studied her transformation. This could only mean one thing. She was interested in him way more than as just a friend.
By the time they’d finished eating, Owen was already trying to think of a way to leave.
“I decided to let you pick out the movie,” she said as she gathered up their empty plates. He had to admit she was a great cook, and the homemade meal had been welcome. The conversation had stayed light, although Brooke had fidgeted a lot. Most of the time her dry sense of humor was casually confident, but this evening she was polite and soft-spoken. Yes, this was an entirely different Brooke.
Owen helped her clear the table. Once the dishwasher was loaded, they went into the living room. Are the lights dimmer in here? He glanced around the room. During his last visit, there had been toys everywhere. Things were much tidier now.
“What do you feel like watching?” Brooke pointed to the hutch where she’d laid out their last DVD. “If you open that door, it’s filled with movies.”
Owen picked out a comedy that he knew wasn’t romantic in any way. “How about this?”
“That’s fine.” Brooke walked to his side and waited while he loaded the DVD, then they both walked to the couch. She waited for him to sit down, and then she sat down beside him, much closer than last time. As she hit Play on the remote, he tried not to think about her outfit and how close she was sitting. For some men, this might have seemed like an opportunity, but Owen thought himself a good enough guy not to lead on a widow with two children. No matter how good she looked. Or smelled.
Ten minutes into the movie Owen barely knew what was going on. His only thoughts were of her leg slightly rubbing against his, especially when she laughed. Once, her hand landed briefly on his knee. He’d been married to Virginia for eight years, so he’d been out of the dating pool for a long time, but he still remembered what flirting was.
Somehow he made it through the movie, but there was no denying that by the end she’d edged even closer. And despite his feelings for Virginia and his desire not to hurt Brooke, he felt the overwhelming urge to take her in his arms and kiss her. It had been so long.
She flipped the television off and twisted to face him. Owen held his breath.
“Well, what did you think? Did you like it?” She smiled, and for a moment, the old Brooke was back.
“Yeah. It was pretty good.” He tried not to look at her, but when he finally did, she grabbed his face in her hands and planted her lips right on his. He couldn’t move, nor did he really want to, but his conscience overruled and he backed away. “Uh, Brooke, I thought we agreed that neither of us were ready for this.”
Her face turned red, then her eyes began to water, and Owen felt like a jerk. Maybe he should have just gone with it, then made it a point to never see her again. “Please don’t cry.”
She jumped up from the couch, yanked her shoes off, and even tossed one across the room. Owen shielded his face with his hands, unsure if the other shoe would be coming his way. As he cowered on the couch, she stomped her foot and started to cry.
“I am so stupid!” She pulled at her skirt. “These clothes are Juliet’s. She insisted I borrow them a long time ago, and I’ve never even worn them until tonight.” She covered her eyes with her hands. “I guess I’m just so mad about everything in my life! Mad that Travis is dead. Mad that my parents have reconciled after twenty years apart. And now I’m mad that I threw myself at a man I barely know!”
Owen opened his mouth to try to say something, even though he wasn’t sure what to say, but she started in again, standing over him, pointing a finger at him.
“You know what? I’ve never even kissed anyone else besides my husband. We were together since the beginning of high school.” She leaned down. “Why did I do this?” She threw her hands in the air and began to pace the room, almost as if Owen weren’t even there. “Maybe I just needed to act out.” She stopped and turned to face him. “Maybe I just wanted to do something a little reckless.” She shook her head. “This is so not me.” Then she threw herself on the couch next to Owen.
Owen twisted to face her. “Look at me.”
She turned to face him, her eyes red. “You can go now. I’m sure you’ll never want to be my movie and dinner buddy after this. I’m really sorry. I’m just—”
“I know.” He gazed into her eyes for a moment. “You’re just unhappy. I can relate.”
“Owen, I’ve never acted that way before. You must think I’m . . .” She pulled her eyes from his and shrugged.
“Brooke, you’re absolutely gorgeous. Any man would be crazy not to want to get involved with you.” He paused. “But I’m trying to be a good guy here. I’m damaged goods. You don’t want to be involved with me.”
“I don’t want to be involved with anyone. Really. I guess I just needed something. I’m so mad at my mother right now, and I guess I wanted to try to get her back somehow. And I haven’t been held in so long. It was all just like the perfect storm, and I . . .”
Owen shook his head, clicking his tongue and grinning. “Yep. You pretty much threw yourself at me.”
“Do you have to rub it in?”
Owen took a deep breath, unable to stifle his smile. “Yes, I think I do.”
She playfully slapped him on the arm. “Look, go ahead and leave if you want, but I’m going to go put on my jeans and a T-shirt. I’m miserable in these clothes. I’ve been worried about tripping in those shoes all night.” She stood up. “So if you’re not here when I get back, no explanations necessary, and I’ll see you around.”
Owen didn’t move. He was unsure what proper protocol would be in a situation like this, but he was pretty sure that just
bailing without a good-bye wasn’t the way to go. Brooke returned a couple of minutes later wearing jeans, a red T-shirt, and no shoes at all. She’d pulled her hair into a ponytail and apparently wiped off some of her makeup. She looked like the old Brooke again.
“I like this Brooke better,” Owen said as she sat down on the couch.
“Wow, you’re still here. Why didn’t you run when you had the chance?” She leaned her head back against the couch and closed her eyes.
“Okay, here’s the deal.” Owen propped his feet up on the coffee table for the first time that evening. “I was married for eight years. I was madly in love with my wife and would have stayed with her forever, even though she was really hard to live with. Our only big issue was that I wanted children and she didn’t. Then she slept with my best friend and business partner, and now they are going to get married and they’re having a baby, as I already told you.”
He blew out a puff of air. “So. I basically think all women are evil, and I’ll never trust or love another one. In addition to that, I have zero goals for the future and will probably be working on my house for the rest of my life.”
He turned to face her and smiled. “Your turn.”
Brooke glanced at her watch and wished Owen would just go home. She’d never behaved like this in her life. “I don’t think you have enough time for my saga. I don’t think I can sum it up that easily.”
“I have all the time it takes.”
“Okay, let’s see.” She fought the urge to laugh. Or cry. “I married Travis right out of high school. He was the love of my life. After he died, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to function again—simple things, like getting up and getting dressed in the morning. But I didn’t have a choice. I had two children to take care of. My mom moved in and lived with us until a couple of months ago. Now I do get up, get dressed in the mornings, and find certain pleasure in some things—like a tub of ice cream every now and then.” She smiled. “And watching my children grow into wonderful little people. That makes me happy.