by Isabel North
Although, he didn’t look as if he was suffering much now.
“You’re looking good, Dean,” Jenny said.
He arched a brow.
She rolled her eyes. “Not like that. Are you serious?”
Dean chuckled. “Hopeful, but not serious.”
“Don’t bother with hopeful, either.”
“I’m messing with you.”
“Uh-huh. So. Why are you here? In your fancy clothes with your very nice watch. And are any angry men going to be breaking down my door to chase you around and strip those fancy clothes and very nice watch off you?”
Dean shifted his jaw from side to side. “I deserved that,” he said.
“You think?”
“Never stop being feisty, honey.”
“If the divorce didn’t knock it out of me, nothing can. Still not your honey.”
Dean burst out laughing. He stopped suddenly, but the humor remained when he said, “I fucked up letting you go, didn’t I?”
“You know it.” You didn’t let me go. You walked away.
Dean tapped a forefinger on the table. “This is nice.”
“My table?”
“This. Us. Hanging out, talking. Not shouting.”
“I’m going to make this real clear, Dean. There is no ‘us’. I don’t want you to think—”
“No, no.” He held up his hands. “I’m not going there. I don’t want you back.”
“Good.”
“I’m in a good place, Jenny. I don’t want to mess up again. We don’t work.”
Jenny felt something deep inside ease at his statement. The last thing she needed was Dean trying to get back in her life.
“But I do want to be in your life again.”
Damn it.
He continued, “In Kate’s life. It’s taken me time to get my head straight but yeah, I’m looking good, I’m feeling good. I’m doing good.”
“You got help? Stopped gambling?”
Dean’s eyes flickered from hers and he swallowed.
Ah. No. He hadn’t stopped. He was just winning.
“I’m living in Mayfield,” he said. “I’m renting at the moment, but I’m thinking about buying a house.”
“You should give Lila a call. I’m sure she could find you something special.”
Dean looked horrified. “I dread to think what Lila would do. Find me a property cursed by vengeful spirits and sitting on a sinkhole, probably.”
“To be honest, I don’t think she’d bother with the house, I think she’d find a sinkhole and drop you in it, but who knows?”
“Yeah, I’m not going anywhere near Lila. Not after she kicked me in the junk. My balls still hurt when it rains, you know.”
“I hear old injuries do that.”
“So. You’re okay with me seeing Kate now and then?”
“I’m not going to lie, Dean. I don’t want you around.”
“I guess I can understand that.”
“But I won’t stop you. I’m not making you into some sort of villain, because that shit isn’t healthy. If Kate wants to see you, then yes. You can visit. I’m telling you right now, though. This Dean, the one I see in front of me? This Dean can visit. With his nice haircut and fancy watch and good mood. The wreck you were last time Kate saw you? No. I don’t want that man in her life. I don’t want my daughter to go through what I did.
“You don’t know what it’s like to watch your father…disintegrate…in front of you. Fail you, every single day. If you stay on top of things, I’ll allow you in. You slip? I’m stronger, now, Dean. I won’t hesitate again. I have custody. I will shut you out, and I’ll enforce it.”
His mouth tightened. “I don’t—”
“Dean.”
“Fine.”
Jenny gazed at him. “You want another coffee?”
Unable to meet her eyes, Dean rubbed his hands over his face. “Sure.”
The mood had been ruined, though, and neither of them were comfortable. They chatted about superficial topics. Dean’s manner was stiff. Jenny’s wasn’t much better, distracted by his unexpected reappearance. She’d seen him a handful of times since the divorce. Spoken to him on her cell once, when she’d told him to lose her number.
“Listen,” Dean said. “I have to go. Before I do, I…well, there’s no good way to say this. I’m just gonna come out and say it.”
Jenny stilled.
“I told you I’m doing good. What I should have said was, I’m doing really good.”
“Congratulations?”
“I want to give you some money.”
“Huh.” Not what she’d expected him to say.
“Child support.”
“I don’t want your money, Dean. I don’t need it, either.”
“Kate’s my responsibility, too.”
“Wow.”
“I know! All right? Fuck, Jenny, I know I fucked up!” His face darkened.
Jenny got to her feet. Yeah, she was rethinking the whole be cool and let him see Kate thing right about now. “Dean,” she groaned. “Why couldn’t you have stayed away?”
“Because I wasn’t in a position to do any good or be any good for either of you then. But now I am.”
“For how long? You’re still gambling.”
“I never said I was, and that’s beside the point. I want to give you money.”
It had taken Jenny a long time to get herself stable, and to pay Elle back for all the help she’d given when she’d moved back to Emerson. This was her life, her house, and her daughter. “You don’t get it. We don’t need you.”
“You are so fucking stubborn, Jenny, you always have been and I swear—”
“Daddy?”
They both swung to face the doorway where Kate was standing, her eyes large and wary.
“Hi, baby.” Dean reached out to squeeze Jenny’s arm, mouthing, I’m sorry. He waited for her to nod before striding over to Kate and snatching her up.
Kate was rigid for a moment before she gave him a tentative hug back.
Jenny’s heart ached at the cautious way her daughter held herself.
Dean noticed it, too. He set her down but kept a hand on her shoulder as he crouched. “How are you, honey?”
Kate nodded. Her gaze flickered to Jenny, then to her father. “Where’s Derek?” she asked Jenny.
Oh, no.
Dean’s face froze but when Kate looked back at him he was smiling.
“Derek’s at home,” Jenny said.
“Derek Tate?” Dean asked.
“He brought us pizza,” Kate told him. “We watched my dragon movie. Mom, you two didn’t finish watching it after I went to bed, did you?”
“Nope.”
“Good.” Kate looked at her father solemnly. “Daddy?”
He heaved a broken-sounding breath. “Yeah, baby?”
“Guess what?”
“What?”
“I go to school now.”
“You do?”
Jenny left them in the kitchen talking before she burst into tears. She wasn’t sure what those tears would mean. Anger at Dean, frustration. Sadness for the happy family they’d all lost. A mix of all three.
Dean stayed through lunch. Kate seemed happy to have him there, but when he left, she wandered out to the backyard and stayed close to Jenny as she weeded the herb garden.
The afternoon had turned heavy and dark, with low clouds sulking on the horizon, giving Jenny a dull headache.
“Did Daddy come back because he’s jealous of Derek?” Kate asked without warning.
Jenny sat back on her heels and stripped off her work gloves, jamming the trowel in the dirt. “Your father didn’t know about Derek. He came to see you. He wanted to see how you’re doing.”
Kate gave her an unreadable look, then held out her arms at her sides, turning her whole body into a question. “We’re doing awesome, aren’t we?” she demanded.
“I think so,” Jenny said.
“I think so!”
“Then
I guess we are.”
“Will he ever come back?” Kate asked.
“I know he’s going to try.”
Another of those unreadable looks. “So, maybe,” Kate said.
Jenny laughed. “It’ll be nice, though? To see your Dad now and then?”
“Yes.” Kate didn’t sound a hundred percent certain about this, and Jenny couldn’t blame her. She hadn’t seen Dean for long enough that he must be fading into a semi-stranger to her. Like the distant relatives you see at weddings and christenings and funerals.
If you were like most people. Jenny, Kate and Elle were the only Finleys left. No distant relatives for them.
Which was another reason, like it or not, that she had to give Dean a chance to be in Kate’s life, even in a small and contained way.
* * * *
“I’m sorry, Derek.” Martin Bradford leaned back in his black leather office chair, lacing his fingers over his midriff. “I can’t sign off on it.”
“You have to,” Derek said.
Derek had gone to high school with Martin. He was a stuffy little prick back then, he was a balding stuffy little prick right now, and he was enjoying the fuck out of himself.
“Can’t,” Martin said. “I want to. But can’t.”
“Right.”
Derek had been to the bank three times to meet with Martin about financing his purchase of the garage. Up until five minutes ago, he’d been feeling confident. Up until five minutes ago, Martin had been making encouraging noises, letting him think it was all going to work out.
“Derek, it’s too big a sum. While your business is doing great, the economy is tight. You’re asking for more than the bank is comfortable lending. The bank. Not me. If it was down to me, I’d take the risk.”
Derek met his sincere gaze and realized with surprise that Martin was telling the truth.
Okay, it was possible that Martin wasn’t enjoying himself after all. There was a good chance that was sympathy in his pale brown eyes. Regardless, he was turning Derek down.
“Shit.” Derek laid his forearms on his thighs and dropped his head into his hands.
He was going to lose the building.
Nowhere else in Emerson would do. He’d driven around, in case the town he’d lived in all his life had sprouted a suitable property without him noticing, but no.
And he didn’t want to move the business to a different site. It belonged where it was.
“All hope is not lost,” Martin said.
Derek snorted a short laugh.
“We can’t finance the full sum, but what I’m going to do is, I’ll push the bank to go as high as I can. Get Mr. Rawlings to accept that.”
“He won’t.”
“Ask him. Ask him to accept a smaller amount, and stay invested. You said he was nostalgic about it?”
“Yeah.”
“Lay it out for him. Paint a picture. It stays Rawlings’ Auto Repairs, on the site where his pops founded it in the sixties, or it gets turned into a Starbucks. Trust me, that’ll frighten him. He takes a smaller lump sum, and gets the remaining balance paid out over ten years. It won’t make that much of a difference. We’re talking about a narrow margin here. Convince him, man. You can do it. Use some of that Tate charm.”
Derek glanced up at Martin and caught a faint tinge of pink on the man’s cheeks. He smiled. “Think that’ll work?”
Martin cleared his throat. “I think it’s worth a shot.”
“All right.” Derek got to his feet and held out a hand.
Martin jumped up, gave him a firm clasp in return. “This is a local bank. We want to support out local business owners. We’re invested in your success.”
“Thanks for the encouragement, Martin. I appreciate you taking an interest.”
Martin turned a little pinker, but he held Derek’s gaze and gave him a professional nod.
Tate charm, huh? Derek left the bank and headed to Megan’s. He stood in line, gazing at the pastry display case without really seeing it. Between trying to convince Jenny they belonged together and trying to get Marshall to not destroy his business, Derek was going to strain a muscle using the Tate charm if he wasn’t careful.
If Jenny found out about Derek’s precarious financial situation?
No amount of charm would be able to talk her into letting him into her life on a permanent basis.
And Derek wanted permanent.
He collected the tray of coffees and drove back to the garage.
He could do this. He’d get Marshall to agree to the new terms. Then, when the time was right, he’d come clean and tell Jenny that, yes, he had a massive loan but it wasn’t the same as Dean and his massive gambling debts.
Jenny trusted him. He knew it, deep down. He just didn’t think she knew it yet.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“I’m impressed, Jennifer,” Ronnie said. She stood with hands on narrow hips, gazing around the half-done garden with approval.
Maybe third-done.
“It’s taking a little longer than I expected,” Jenny said.
Ronnie’s weathered face creased into a smile. “It takes the time it takes. I know you’re putting the work in. It can take until Christmas for all the committee cares. They’re not planning their big fanfare opening until a Spring Fair. Festival? Some such nonsense. I stopped listening soon as I heard the word clowns.” They both shuddered. “I like the sign.” She nodded at Lila’s sign, which Jenny had okayed with Barbara to leave standing at the back entrance. “Although, I have some suggestions.”
“Want your name bigger?” Jenny asked.
“How did you guess?”
Ronnie’s name and that of the garden center was a fraction of the size of Jenny’s. A person would have to be crouching, and possibly using a magnifying glass, to read it. “It was a present from my friend Lila.”
“I like it. Like the branding. Order another one—equal sizes for the names, please—and I’ll set it up at the garden center. I’m already getting inquiries from people wanting to book you.”
“You are?”
“When you’re done here, we’ll have another couple of jobs lined up. Your days of working the till and watering the hanging baskets are over.”
Jenny beamed.
Ronnie gave her a critical once-over. “You should think about getting serious about the sunscreen.”
“I use sunscreen.”
“Switch your brand. I can see my reflection in your nose, it’s so shiny.”
“Gross.” Jenny grabbed the baseball cap she had in her backpack and jammed it on her head. She’d live with hat hair.
Ronnie’s gaze tracked up. She contemplated the cap. “My name’s not even on that one, is it?”
The cap was another branded gift from Lila. “There isn’t any room.”
“Fine. Then how about you get me one with my name on it.” She clapped Jenny on the shoulder.
“I’ll tell Lila when I put the order in for the new sign.” Jenny hesitated. “I want to say thanks, Ronnie. For making this happen.”
Ronnie shrugged. “I’m at a place in my life where I can take the risk. You’re talented. You’re young. I get that you were too scared to rock the boat. Starting anything new is a risk, even more so when you’ve only just stopped taking on water.”
“I wasn’t scared,” Jenny protested. “That wasn’t why I didn’t set up the business on my own.”
“You’d be a fool not to be a little scared. More of a fool if you let it keep you frozen in place, though. I’m always happy to give someone a shove when they need it.”
About to protest again, Jenny snapped her mouth shut.
“Give me a tour,” Ronnie invited, eyes twinkling. “We can see if it’s worth rounding up those volunteers the community center was talking about.”
Jenny felt proprietary toward the garden at this point. She’d done most of the back-breaking work of clearing already.
You know, the part where help would have come in useful.
“I
don’t need volunteers. I’m managing on my own. I like doing it myself.”
Ronnie sniffed. “We’ll see.”
Jenny walked her boss—partner—around the site, pointing out where she’d prepared the ground for the raised beds, and where the children’s playset was going to go.
Even more impressed, Ronnie strode off with a spring in her step and plans to update the garden center’s website with a dedicated section for Jenny’s designs, along with lots of in-progress photos.
Jenny had turned back to work but hadn’t had the time to get started when someone called her name.
Dean came toward her over the stretch of lawn that she’d carved out and mowed in multiple sessions until it had a velvety nap that felt glorious to any hot and sweaty gardeners who decided to take a break and lie face down on it for ten refreshing minutes.
“Hey,” Jenny said, surprised to see him again so soon. She took in the tight line of his shoulders and the expensive sunglasses hiding his eyes.
The hair at the back of her neck prickled.
Dean rubbed his smooth jaw, then snatched his sunglasses off. He’d stopped a little too close to her, his loafers mere inches from her work boots.
Refusing to give ground, Jenny tipped her head back.
“I’ve been thinking,” Dean said.
Never a good opener.
“About Kate,” he said.
Worse. “Okay.”
Dean’s expression was an odd mix of irritation and reluctance. He shoved his hands in his pockets and paced a short distance away, then back. “I’ve heard rumors.”
“About Kate?”
Dean gave a scornful laugh. “No. About you.”
“I don’t—”
“And Derek Tate.”
Jenny’s lips tightened. “Rumors.”
“Yeah, rumors.”
“Where are you hearing these rumors?”
He twitched his shoulders. “Around.”
“Is that for real, Dean, or have you been stewing on what Kate said when you dropped around uninvited, unannounced, and unwanted at the weekend?”
“What does it matter? Either way, he’s in your life. Isn’t he?”
“I’m friends with Derek, yes. Which has absolutely nothing to do with you.”
“But it has something to do with Kate. If he’s in your life, he’s in her life, too.” Dean stopped in front of her again. “I heard he took her to her first day of school.”