Paris.
I could be in Paris by breakfast. Paris, where a mist of rain through the soft glow of the streetlamps at dusk was pure magic. Paris, where the bricks and stones knew of a million love affairs gone wrong. Paris, where maybe I could forget the gentle rasp of work-hardened hands against my skin, the smell of red earth, and Joe's heartbeat against my arm as I fell asleep curled beside him.
I was going to cry. I knew I was and I didn't want to do it there. Not in front of them. But a solid wall of t-shirt clad muscle blocked my exit when I turned to leave.
I looked up slowly. Joe's brilliant blue eyes locked instantly on my own. Every second felt like a million years.
"Where are you goin', darlin'?" he asked in a husky whisper.
"Away Joe. It's better if I do." My chest ached. My throat burned. I wanted to curl up in my bed, hide under the duvet and stop thinking, stop feeling.
Joe shook his bright head. "It's not better. Not for me." He reached for my left hand and held it gently.
"It's me or the farm, isn't it? That shouldn't be much of a choice really," I tried for a light-hearted tone but failed.
Joe didn't reply. Mrs. Tanner started to cry behind me.
"Two days ago you took me out to the field and told me that if I was ever going to love you, I had to love this place too. That's how much you belong here, Joe. How can I ask you to give that up? And what for? For me? It's ridiculous. I'm not worth it."
I tried to picture Joe outside of the rust red fields and rolling green hills but nothing came. How could I ever measure up to generations of family tradition, to the strong, constant land he loved more than anything?
"If you go darlin', I don't wanna be here. I won't love it anymore. Not without you, not without her." He touched my abdomen lightly. "I've put everything I had into this farm, everything I am, so that some day I could turn around and share it with my wife and children. What good's it gonna be to me without you?"
I just couldn't reconcile myself to the image of me as a farmwife, not the sort that Joe had grown up around anyway. One glance at his mother confirmed that. She was everything a farmer needed in a spouse: patient and kind, constant through all hardships, hardworking and self-sacrificing. Plus she baked the best damn chocolate chip cookies on the planet. I couldn't even warm canned soup without setting off the smoke detector.
"There'll be another wife Joe, another baby. Someone better suited to you and to this place," I said, hating the words even as I spoke them. How could I be jealous of a hypothetical woman and her hypothetical offspring?
Joe shook his head. "You're it for me, Rhiannon. There won't be anyone else." His grip tightened on my hand.
"I have to go. Don't you see that I have to? I can't come between you and your family, you and the farm." My voice was thick with the tears I refused to shed.
"Then I'll come with you." Joe said.
"And do what, Joe?" I just could not imagine Joe in a suit and tie, working a nine-to-five office job.
"It doesn't matter. I'll save up and we'll buy land somewhere else. A farm in Ontario, Alberta, China, I don't care!"
He sounded so sincere and determined that I didn't have the heart to remind him we wouldn't need to save up. There wasn't a farm on the planet I couldn't buy if we wanted it badly enough. Just that small difference between our ways of thinking was enough to remind me that we weren't meant for each other.
I shook my head. "No, Joe. We tried. I can't let you do this to yourself. Seven generations of Tanners have farmed this land! I won't be the one to change that."
Mr. Tanner came slowly to his feet. He and Joe were roughly the same build and size, but somehow Mr. Tanner seemed bigger, as he if needed more space. "She's right Joseph. Let her go."
Lilly always told me Joe had a temper. Right then, I knew I'd just been lucky to never have seen it before. A heated, angry flush crept across his neck when he turned to his father. I actually felt the taut tension in his muscles.
"This is none of your business," Joe said quietly in a tone more menacing than if he'd yelled it at the top of his lungs.
Joe's father's expression took on an equally ominous cast. "This is still my farm. Still my family. I still have a say."
"Not over this."
Mr. Tanner drew himself up to his full height. He and Joe stood toe-to-toe. Both men bristled with barely restrained anger.
"Look at her Joseph, she doesn't belong here and she never will."
Joe said nothing as he stubbornly held his father's gaze. On the other side of the room Mrs. Tanner sat holding her breath. I think I'd forgotten to breathe too.
"You have your family to consider. I will not see you throw this farm away. You're not thinkin' with your head, Joseph," Mr. Tanner's voice was edged with hurtful scorn. "You're thinkin' with your dick."
Joe's punch landed squarely against his father's jaw with a sickening noise. Both Mrs. Tanner and I screamed. I moved first, throwing myself at Joe before Mr. Tanner reciprocated.
"She is my family. I have other considerations now other than you," Joe ground out through gritted teeth as he glared darkly at his father.
The identical dark expressions on both men's faces scared me half to death. Mr. Tanner stumbled back from the impact of his son's fist against his jaw but never broke his gaze from Joe. The two men circled each other, with me clutching Joe's arm. Tears streamed down my cheeks.
"Don't do this," I pleaded softly. Beneath my hands Joe's arm was steel hard, tight with rage as he waited for his father to make a move. "Joe please, please don't do this. He's your father. I'm not worth it."
At my words, Joe froze and then he rounded on me with a low growl in his chest. "You are. Why can't you see that?"
His scowl was so dark, so alien to me that I took a step back, afraid. "No, I'm not. Your father is right. I don't fit in here and I never will. You deserve better than that and you know it."
Joe reached for me and wrapped his hand around the back of my head. He leaned down and rested his forehead against my own. His deep blue eyes blocked out the rest of the world. "I love you, Rhiannon."
"Joe," I gasped. Shock rippled through me. I couldn't believe he'd said it. Instantly, I wanted to hear him say it again.
"I love you both." His free hand settled over my stomach. "I don't care what they think, Rhi," his voice was gruff.
"We don't care what they think either," said a soft voice over Joe's shoulder. I looked up to see Lilly standing in the doorway to the kitchen with Matt, Chuck, and Violet.
"What are you doing?" Mr. Tanner asked sharply. He glared at his children.
Joe's brothers and sisters surrounded me until we formed a pack.
"We're doing exactly what you taught us to do," Lilly said with a brave smile. "We're doing the right thing."
Mr. Tanner's angry expression deepened. "Get out!" he snarled. Mrs. Tanner made a small noise of distress which he ignored.
"Get out of my house. All of you."
Joe shot his father a look of disgust, and then with a small grunt of displeasure took my arm and pulled me from the kitchen. His brothers and sisters followed. Not a single one of them looked back.
~~~***~~~
It was a sombre but thankfully short trip back to the cottage. Adam had dinner waiting. The men started in on the drinking the moment we were all settled at the table. It was the quietest meal I'd ever eaten with the Tanner clan.
Adam kept shooting me reassuring smiles across the table. I appreciated the support but all I thought about was Joe and what he was giving up for me. It didn't feel right. Over and over in my head I heard his voice saying the three words no one in their life had ever said to me.
I didn't know what to do, what to think. I love you, Rhiannon. All I knew was that I wanted to hear him say it again. I wanted to hear him say it every day for the rest of my life. Nothing had ever sounded so right before. There was only one problem -- loving me meant losing the farm. I couldn't let that happen.
How long would it take
for Joe to begin resenting me? To wish he'd made a different decision? To wish he'd chosen the unchanging land instead of the inconstant woman? And how could I expect him not to feel that way? Only Lilly, Adele, and Mrs. Nichol had ever stuck around for me. Everyone else that had ever meant anything to me in my life always ended up leaving. My mother. My father. Every man who I'd ever had the faintest hope of making a future with.
After dinner the guys moved their heavy drinking to the sunroom and Violet went upstairs to make up all the spare beds. She, Chuck, and Matt would need a place to stay until things got better. Adam was in no shape to take the bike back to the city, so he and Lil would also be spending the night. Lilly and I lingered in the kitchen, doing the dishes.
"Do you think he meant it?" I asked in a low, hollow whisper as I passed a clean plate to Lilly to dry.
She watched me for a moment, her pretty face thoughtful. "Never in twenty-nine years have I ever known Joe to say something he didn't mean," she offered after a time.
It was a roundabout answer, but I'd have to content myself with it.
"What am I going to do, Lil? What are you all going to do?" My question came out sounding just about as tortured as I felt.
She turned and gave me a much-needed hug. "We're Tanners," she said with a wry smile. "We make do."
~~~***~~~
I went to bed before everyone else. It had been too much of a day for me and I was exhausted. I had no idea what time Joe joined me. I was half awake when I felt his strong arm wrap around my waist. I thought maybe he'd be too upset to make love, too distraught by the chaos I'd brought to his family and his life. Instead Joe came to me with a wild desperation that made my heart ache in my chest.
We didn't say anything to each other. I knew words wouldn't heal the hurt Joe had endured. I didn't have anything else to give him except my body and our lovemaking was fierce and silent, tinted with anguish. Joe held on to me so tightly I could barely move, hardly breathe and I should have been frightened by the intensity of him but I wasn't. For a brief time he wasn't the gentle, considerate Joe I knew, but the darkness in him thrilled me a little too. To know he was capable of such emotion, even if it was in the darkest minutes of night, brought tears to my eyes.
Afterwards, Joe only slightly loosened his arms around me before he slept. I tried to switch off my brain and sleep too, but it was difficult and it was a long time before I could.
I was the first person up in the morning, owing mostly to the fact that I was the only one without a hangover. Sometimes I didn't miss drinking as much as I thought I would. I wrapped myself up in one of Joe's big hand-knit sweaters and headed outside. I sat on the beach for a long time just watching the tide change.
The slow, heavy sound of the footsteps crunching across the red sand behind me hinted at only one person. Joe. My stomach clenched nervously. We were going to have to have a talk. I just didn't know what I wanted to say. I took a few deep breaths, expecting to look over my shoulder and see Joe standing there with a 'we-need-to-talk' look on his face. Instead he held my cell phone in his hand.
"Rhi," he started then hesitated. My stomach dropped at the look on his face. He held out my cell phone. "Rhi, darlin'," his voice cracked, "that was the hospital. It's Mrs. Nichol…"
Chapter Eight
"Is she going to be okay?" My voice wobbled a little, betraying the tears I tried so hard to keep in.
The doctor standing on the opposite side of Mrs. N's bed was an older gentleman, handsome in a distinguished way, if not a little tired-looking. His smile was bland yet sympathetic.
"We really have no way of knowing until Mrs. Nichol wakes up, but her brain function appears to be normal, so we're hopeful she can make a full recovery."
Joe's hand on my back was a silent, steadying presence. If it wasn't for him I think I would have curled up on the floor and sobbed. Staring down at Mrs. N lying so still in her hospital bed was the hardest thing I'd ever had to do. She looked so small and frail that it broke my heart.
"Then I guess we just have to wait," I said as I tried to muster up a little confidence. Joe patted my back in silent support.
The doctor smiled again. "Time will tell Ms. Barnes, but from what I understand Mrs. Nichol is a feisty lady, so if anyone can pull through a stroke, mild or otherwise, it'll be her."
"Thank you," I whispered past the lump in my throat. The doctor nodded and excused himself, leaving Joe and I alone with Mrs. N. Her granddaughters were sitting out in the waiting room. They'd had a long night at the hospital and Joe had agreed to take them home when he and I were done with our visit.
My composure balanced on a razor-thin edge. I took a few deep, shaky breaths. Joe moved to put his arm around me. He rested his cheek against the top of my head.
"It's okay to cry," he said in a gentle, low voice.
I bit my lip hard. The pain helped to keep me from losing it.
"Rhiannon Barnes does not cry," I reminded him and myself. "Besides, Mrs. N would hate it and I'm sure the granddaughters have been blubbering over her for hours."
Joe chuckled softly and kissed the top of my head. "I'm sure they have. And I've seen you cry before, darlin', so you're not foolin' anyone. Don't worry, I won't tell."
I elbowed him in the ribs but he didn't even flinch. "You're not helping," I muttered.
He hugged me hard. "Do you wanna stay here while I take the girls home? I can come back for you later."
I hesitated for a moment. I hated hospitals and the urge to run away danced in the back of my mind, but strong was the fear of leaving Mrs. N alone. I nodded.
Joe pulled a nearby chair closer to the bed then kissed me softly.
"I'll be back," he promised.
I sank gratefully into the chair and watched his broad, strong back as he retreated towards the door. He shot a reassuring smile over his shoulder and closed the door quietly behind him.
It took me a minute to get up the nerve to look at Mrs. N again. She was so pale and still it was eerie. Only the constant beeping rhythm of the heart-rate monitor and the barely visible rise and fall of her chest as she took slow, shallow breaths gave any indication that she was still alive.
I took her hand, and careful of the IV, held it in my own. Her skin was cool and dry, paper-thin and soft. They were hands I'd seen busy at work a million times, whether dancing over the calculator or feeding yards of fabric through the sewing machine. I don't think I'd ever seen them sit still even for a moment.
"Hey," I said shakily. My voice seemed over-loud and alien in the quiet of the room.
"You're giving us quite a scare here," I chided. "It's tourist season, you can't be taking a break now. Who's going to sell over-priced designer handbags to rich Torontonians who don't know any better?"
There was nothing I wanted more than for Mrs. N to open her eyes, turn her head, and laugh, but she didn't.
"I really need your advice," I continued. "Joe and I are in a bit of a pickle, as you'd say." I told her all about the events of the previous day, about Joe's fight with his parents, about the Tanner siblings siding with me, about my own anger and helplessness. I talked on and on, hardly pausing, otherwise the room would get too quiet for my comfort. More than an hour passed before I'd said everything I wanted to say.
"I hate shit like this," I reminded her. "I hate not being able to do anything! If I stay, Joe will lose the farm. If I leave..." I swallowed the new lump in my throat. It was hard to even get the words out. "If I leave, I know I'll break Joe's heart and I just can't do that to him. Besides, I need him... I think I..." I paused for a moment, stunned by the revelation which crashed into me like a physical blow. My insides turned over and fluttered, as if the life inside them agreed with me. I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes, wrapping my free arm around my abdomen.
"Oh God. I think I love him."
There was a dry, almost inaudible wheeze, and I opened my eyes in surprise to see Mrs. N's baby blue gaze locked on to my own.
"Well of course you do, yo
u ass," she murmured.
"Jesus!" I practically jumped out of the chair in surprise.
Mrs. N gave a soft chuckle.
"Do...do you want me to get the doctor?"
She shook her head a little. "Not yet," she said on an outward breath. "Just you is enough."
My heart skipped a beat. "You're not about to die, are you?"
Mrs. N sent me a disparaging look. "Hell no. Who'd keep you in line?" She spoke each word slower than usual and even as I laughed I noticed how much effort speaking took for her.
Just His Type (Part Two) Page 12