by Meg Muldoon
“And then this whole Brad thing just snowballed out of control,” she said. “I mean, John got some ideas, and then he passed those ideas onto you. And I just didn’t know how to tell you. I mean, for God’s sake. I felt like you were all out to get me.”
I looked down sheepishly.
I suddenly felt horrible for doubting the character of my best friend.
“And do you know what the irony is in all this?”
I shook my head.
She smiled wryly.
“Brad is gay.”
I let out a short gasp.
“Really?” I said. “But… you dated him.”
“Believe me, there was no one more surprised than me when I found out after running into him a couple of months ago at the grocery. He said he found himself after leaving Christmas River, and figured out he was gay. Though I guess it makes sense in a way. He was never that into me. I just thought it was me at the time.
“Him and his partner have a business designing baby rooms. They even have a couple of kids themselves. So you see why I… Why we’ve become kind of close lately. When I found out I was pregnant, for some reason, I felt I could confide in him.”
I’d been so wrong about the two of them, thinking Kara was carrying on some crazy affair with an old flame.
“Wow,” I said, shaking my head.
I let out a ragged sigh.
“Geez, I’m so sorry Kara. I’m sorry you’ve been going through this all by yourself. I’ve… I’ve really been so self-absorbed lately. I feel like I’ve been a horrible friend.”
She shook her head.
“No,” she said. “Uh-uh. You’re not taking the blame for all of this. It’s been me, Cin. I’ve been keeping this a secret from you. And I think maybe that was wrong of me to do. We’ve been through everything together, and I should have told you sooner. I mean, I have always wanted a really close gay friend, but you, Cin, you’ll always be my best friend. No matter what”
I let out a short little laugh about the gay friend part. She had always wanted a close gay friend. She’d said as much to me many a time, especially when I’d get tired and want to go home after only an hour of shopping on our trips to Portland.
“Okay,” I said. “But from here on out, Kara, it doesn’t matter what I’m going through. Okay? You tell me anything that you need to. I’ll always be here to talk.”
I got up and hugged her.
“Okay,” she said. “All right, well as long as you just said that, here it goes, then: I’m scared, Cin. I’m so scared.”
Her eyes began to get glassy and full again.
I couldn’t pretend to know the first thing about motherhood.
But I would be there for her. I would support her with whatever she needed.
Warren’s last words before boarding the plane suddenly echoed in my head.
I would help her be strong too.
“What are you afraid of, Kara?” I asked, rubbing her shoulder.
She sniveled some.
“I never saw myself as a mother, Cin,” she said. “And at first I was scared for myself, you know? Like because of this, my life’s going to be put on hold for 18 years. But now that fear’s changed. Now I’m afraid that… that I’ll be a bad mom. That I’ll mess the kid up.”
She started sobbing into one of the napkins from Benny’s Shake Shack.
“Kara, my dearest friend,” I said. “I’ve known you almost your entire life. I know just about everything there is about you, and I know that you’re going to be an amazing mom. This little guy or gal doesn’t know how lucky they are to get you as their mother.”
“You think, Cin?” she said, her sobbing letting up a little.
“I don’t think,” I said. “I know. It’s all going to be so great, Kara. You’ll see. I promise.”
I soon found that I was crying too, though I wasn’t sure why.
It wasn’t out of fear or sadness.
They were happy tears.
I had the sense that something wonderful was headed Kara’s way.
Chapter 68
It was early one morning the first week of October when I heard the front door jingle that old familiar jingle. Shortly after, a crisp and bright gust of autumn wind found its way back to the kitchen.
And I had a feeling that the person who’d walked in hadn’t come in just for the pie.
Chrissy and Tiana weren’t in yet. I hadn’t even turned the sign over to say “Open” yet. I’d just left the front door unlocked out of habit.
I had just filled the fridge up with a pan of Snickerdoodle Banana Mocha Pudding pies when I heard the jingle. I had recently added the pie to my seasonal menu, despite it not exactly being an autumn pie. But the customers didn’t seem to care. The pies were flying out of the case by the dozens.
I dusted my hands off on my apron and set the timer to 60 minutes. Then I headed out to the front.
A man was sitting at one of the booths. He was clean shaven and wearing a khaki bomber jacket. The kind that a retired cop might wear.
“Hi, what can I get you this—”
“I’ve been thinking about that cherry pie ever since the Rodeo,” he said, looking at me with those piercing blue eyes of his. “I guess you’d say it had a lasting impression on my gut.”
Chapter 69
Cinnamon Peters from a few years ago might have called 9-1-1 after seeing Tex “The Sandman” Stevens sitting there in her pie shop.
She might have dropped the coffee pot she was holding, screamed, and holed herself up in the kitchen until help arrived.
But I’d changed since Daniel’s accident. Hell, maybe since before then. Since last Christmas, when I almost lost my life in the woods. Maybe since I found Daniel again.
I wasn’t afraid anymore. I’d grown strong. I knew I could protect myself and my loved ones from the outside world.
But as I watched Tex hunch over the table of the booth, reserved and clean shaven, I realized that this man, this man that had haunted my dreams, had haunted Daniel’s dreams for so long, had no ill will toward us.
He wasn’t some crazed ex-cop-turned-felon, here to take his revenge.
In fact, he’d saved us.
“Sure thing,” I said, my voice unwavering. “One slice of cherry coming up.”
I went behind the case and cut him a particularly large hunk of pie. I pushed it onto a plate, doused it in whipped cream, and brought it to him, along with a thick diner mug. I poured him a cup of steaming hot coffee.
He nodded at me and I took a seat across from him.
He ate the pie in silence for a while, and I didn’t disturb his meal. I stared out the window. Out at the clear blue fall day.
With the cooler weather, the wildfires had just about all ceased to exist. There was no more suffocating smoke. The days were crisp and cool and blue, and the leaves on the trees had all burst into vibrant hues of candy apple reds and cider yellows. Pumpkins lined the neighborhood streets, and Halloween-inspired merchandise filled the stores of downtown Christmas River.
I watched as a gust of wind shook the bright leaves of an aspen in front of the shop, knocking a few loose and carrying them down the street.
Tex placed his fork down and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
“Molly used to try her hand at making pies every once and a while. But Goddamn, she’d end up burning the hell out of the crust. Everytime. I’d always tell her ‘Molly, put the timer on, would you?’ But something would always go wrong, and I’d always end up having to lie to her about how good it tasted.”
He let out a short sigh.
“That was my Molly all right,” he said. “But what she lacked in the kitchen, she more than made up for. She was the kindest person I ever met.”
I smiled sadly.
I could tell by the tone in his voice how much it all still pained him.
He noticed my sad expression and then looked away.
“You know, I’ve started to forget what she looks like,” he said. “Sometimes
I wake up in the middle of the night and think, was that even really me? Were we even ever married? Or are those just dreams from some other guy who died a long, long time ago?”
I bit my lip.
“I’m sorry, Tex,” I said in a hushed voice.
He shook his head. He didn’t seem to be surprised that I knew who he was.
“It’s not your fault,” he said. “Not Danny’s fault either. I didn’t know that for a long while, though. There was a time when all I could think of was bringing harm to him. The hours I spent in jail, looking up at the ceiling, thinking of nothing but how I was gonna get him back someday…”
My blood went cold.
He shook his head.
“You see, some part of me just got so twisted after all those years of Molly’s cancer. The doctors and the bills and the doctors and the bills, and all the while she was still suffering more than any human should have to suffer. I just couldn’t take it anymore. It drove me to do things I thought I’d never do.
“I used to believe in upholding the law. I believed in my oath. But after Molly got sick, I saw things differently.
Danny couldn’t understand.”
He reached for a phantom beard that was no longer there. When he hit air, he brought his hand to his face.
“I was so angry with Danny,” he continued. “I just kept thinking, how could this kid do this to me? I taught him everything I knew. I took him under my wing, gave him the smarts to live a clean and decent life as a cop. He was like the son me and Molly never had. I…”
He sighed.
“I loved that son of a bitch,” he said, looking down.
“I think he felt the same way about you,” I said.
“I mean, I put him in a tough spot. I see that now. But still, there’s a thing called loyalty. Loyalty to your partner. All these years, I’ve been sitting down in that prison, thinking about that.
“But then, a couple years ago, I got a visitor. An old buddy of mine who used to be on the force. He said he’d gone out drinking with this deputy we used to know. Morton was his name. He’s a lieutenant in the Los Angeles Police Department now. He said Morton got drunk and they started talking about the old days.”
He sighed again. I could hear the sigh catch on some phlegm in his throat.
“Morton was the one who turned me in, says my buddy. He overheard me and Danny talking that day, and then he went to the chief. He got a nice big fat promotion out of it.”
Tex shook his head.
“It wasn’t Danny at all,” he said. “He’d been telling the truth the whole time.”
He looked up at the ceiling.
“I’ve never felt so much a fool as that day,” he said.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“When I got out, I wanted to find Danny. Tell him that I knew the truth. Apologize for not believing him. I went to the Rodeo, figuring that’d be the best place to approach him. But then just as he saw me, that horse came out of nowhere. I saw that little girl peeking out from behind one of the trailers, smiling, right after it happened. I wasn’t supposed to be out of California, so I called for help and got out of there as fast as I could. But I’ve been making trips back, keeping an eye on that little girl. She had a look in her eye that night. She’s a nutcase, through and through, and I knew she’d be back for more eventually.”
I thought back to that night when Ashley came after us a second time. About her, face down in the mud, out cold, that welt on her cheek.
The Sandman’s calling card.
Tex had been out there, trying to keep us safe.
Like some sort of guardian angel.
“I don’t think I can ever express how grateful I am,” I said. “If you hadn’t been there, she would have—”
He held up a hand.
“Danny’s a good man,” he said.
The edges of his mouth turned up a little into a half-smile.
I was sure that for him, that was as good a smile as he ever showed.
“What’s done is done,” he said. “The reason I came by is because I want you to pass a message along to him.”
“Of course,” I said. “But are you sure you don’t want to tell him yourself? I could take you by the department.”
He shook his head.
“No, no,” he said. “It’s better this way. Just tell him that I know it wasn’t him. And that I’m glad to see him doing so well. And that he’s got nothing to worry about from me.”
I nodded.
“And tell him that he’s made some real good choices in his life, and I’m proud of him,” he said. “And tell him that I don’t know how an ugly whipper-snapper like him got so goddamned lucky marrying a smart, pretty girl like you. But, well, I guess every dog has his day.”
I broke out into a big smile.
He got up to leave and started pulling bills out of his pocket.
“I won’t have it,” I said. “Family eats free at my establishment.”
He gave me one of those half smiles again, and then put the bill folds back.
“Thanks for the new outlook on pie,” he said.
He started walking away.
I stood up.
“Wait, Tex?” I said.
He stopped and turned around.
“What, uh, what are you going to do about that Morton guy?” I said. “The one who turned you in?”
He looked away, and then shrugged.
“I haven’t quite figured it out yet,” he said. “You’d think I would’ve after nearly two decades behind bars. But I’m finding myself a little conflicted now.”
I went over. I gave him a hug and then pecked him on the cheek. He looked at me, surprised.
“Don’t do it,” I said. “The world’s a better place with you on the outside, Tex.”
He smiled. A real, honest smile.
“I’ll, uh, I’ll take that into consideration,” he said. “Maybe… maybe one day, I’ll come back and see Danny. Maybe one day we’ll…”
He trailed off.
“I think he’d like that very much,” I said.
He nodded at me again, and then he left. That old familiar bell on the door jingling after him.
I sighed.
I hoped that he would keep himself out of trouble.
But in the end, I knew that people had to make decisions for themselves.
Chapter 70
I sat in the podiatrist office of Dr. John Billings and Associates, looking nervously around the baby blue plaster walls.
John had sent me another text message half an hour before I closed up my shop. He once again said he needed to see me urgently. And that it was about Kara. He asked if I could stop by his practice.
So after closing up the shop, I made the short trek down the street to his office, my stomach twisting into a pretzel.
Kara must have finally told him about the baby.
I would have thought he’d be relieved. Relieved that she hadn’t been having an affair. That in fact, it was good news instead.
But maybe he didn’t see it that way.
His text message certainly hadn’t been overflowing with joy.
Maybe he didn’t want to be a father. Maybe there was a reason he was in his mid-forties and didn’t have any children.
Maybe for someone like John, this was even worse news than his girlfriend having an affair.
I waited in his office while he finished up with his last patient, looking around the walls at his diplomas and generic paintings of lighthouses, feeling jumpy and nervous.
All this time, he thought Kara was going to break his heart. Now, I wondered, was he going to break her’s?
The door suddenly swung open, and I sat straight up in the chair.
He was looking tired again. His face still a shade of faded linen. Large bags clung under his eyes. Like he hadn’t gotten any sleep the night before.
“Thanks for coming down here on such short notice, Cin,” he said.
“Of course.”
“S
orry too about making you wait here,” he said, taking a seat at his desk, facing me. “My last patient was hard of hearing and I had to keep repeating myself over and over until she understood what I was saying.”
“It’s fine,” I said.
He seemed to be stalling, and I was getting more anxious with each passing moment.
He started fidgeting with something in one of his desk drawers, and I couldn’t take the delays anymore.
“So what did you want to talk to me about?” I said, wiping my sweaty palms off on my jeans.
“Well,” he said, still fidgeting in the drawer. “I wanted your opinion on something.”
I had figured that much already.
But on what? On how Kara would take it if he told her he couldn’t handle being a father? On how she’d take it if he decided to leave her? On how she’d take it if—
He placed a small velvet box in front of me on the desk.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Open it.”
I grabbed it and did as he said, the hinge of the box snapping back as I flipped it up.
A glittery rock sparkled back at me.
I looked up at him.
He was grinning ear to ear, happier than I’d seen him in a long, long time.
“You’re going to ask her?” I said, a great rush of relief sweeping through my body.
“I’ve been keeping that ring in this drawer for six months now,” he said. “I was always going to ask her. But now I just have something to spur me on a little.”
He looked at the box in my hands.
“So, do you think she’ll like it, Cin?” he asked.
I looked down at the large rock. It was blindingly beautiful.
I shook my head.
“John, I think she’s going to love it.”
He grinned. He was practically glowing with happiness.
I had never seen him like this before.
“Cin, I love that woman,” he said. “I love her so much. And this news… well this is just…”
He trailed off, but he didn’t need to finish the thought.
I could tell how he felt. The room was practically buckling under his joy.
I let out a sigh of happy relief, and I felt my heart grow full.
Kara had herself a good man.