by Grouse, Lili
“Thank you so much!” Annabelle exclaimed.
“Don’t thank me yet,” Kristen said as they hurried over to her car. “We still have to make it out of here before the cops show up.”
“You called the cops?”
“You think I was gonna let those kids sabotage my construction site?” Kristen raised an eyebrow at Annabelle as they buckled in. “Think again.”
“You didn’t call Dad, though, did you?”
“No. I didn’t. But he’s worried about you. You should probably text him and let him know you’re okay.”
“Okay.”
“So… you want me to drive you home or back to the Sea Shack?” Kristen asked as they pulled out onto the road.
“The airport.”
“Nice try,” Kristen chuckled.
“I guess home, then. It’d be kinda lame if anyone came back to the Sea Shack and saw me there instead of with some hot guys jetting off to Paris or whatnot.”
“Yeah, probably,” Kristen agreed, amused.
“Where the hell have you been?” Ford barked as soon as Kristen opened the door for Annabelle. “I’ve been looking everywhere.”
“I texted you,” Annabelle said and pulled her jacket off.
“Too little, too late.”
“Ford…” Kristen started.
“Stay out of this, Kristen,” he snapped at her. “This is between me and my daughter.”
“Dad! No fair! It’s not Kristen’s fault!”
“You. Go to your room and stay there.”
“You suck!” Annabelle cried and ran up the stairs so fast, it sounded like thunder in Kristen’s ears.
“Well, that went great,” Kristen muttered under her breath.
“Where was she?”
“I told you. I’m not your mole.”
“Damn it, Kristen,” he said and slammed his hand against the wall beside him, “I need you to be on my side here.”
“You can handle yourself just fine,” Kristen retorted. “You bark and you yell and where does that get you? Nowhere. I’m not scared of you, and neither is your daughter. You’re not earning any respect here. All you’re doing is digging yourself a deeper hole than you’ll ever be able to crawl out of. See you at work,” Kristen finished and ripped the door open, then slammed it shut behind her.
Ford rested his forehead against the closed door. How did they go from almost giving a real relationship a go to arguing and slamming doors in the span of mere hours? After a fruitless search of what he thought might be the ‘usual haunts’ for the teenagers of Greenport – not many – and a call from the sheriff’s office saying there was a disturbance at the construction site involving underage drinking, Ford had been beside himself with worry about Annabelle. And then Kristen brought her home, safe and sound, and all he could do was let all that frustration out. He well and truly sucked.
Ford sighed deeply, then pushed himself off the door and walked into the kitchen. Some hot chocolate might go a long way in peacemaking, he decided, and set about making just that.
He tapped lightly at Annabelle’s door, holding two cups of hot chocolate with marshmallows.
“Go away.”
Standard response, and one he wasn’t going to take at face value. With his elbow, Ford pushed down the handle and shouldered the door open.
“I made hot chocolate.”
“I don’t want any.” Her voice was muffled by her pillow.
“Okay. I guess I’ll have two, then,” he said lightly and placed both down on the bedside table before sitting down on the edge of the bed.
“What do you want?”
“I wanted to apologize. For yelling at you. I only did it because I was worried.”
“You yelled at Kristen, too.”
“Also because I was worried. And because she wouldn’t betray your trust and tell me where you were.”
“Really?” Annabelle looked up from her pillow.
“Yeah. But you know what? I want us to be able to be honest with each other. So I’m going to start. I have feelings for Kristen. I was angry with her tonight because she chose loyalty to you over me, and I was wrong. I don’t know enough to be a good sounding board for you – not about the things you go through. It’s good that you feel like you can talk to Kristen. I just hope that one day, you’ll want to talk to me about things, too.”
“So… wait,” Annabelle said, sitting up and leaning forward, “you and Kristen?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s over, but for the record, she wanted to be the one to tell you herself. She didn’t want you to think that she’d been nice to you because of me. I actually think she might like you better. No, scratch that, as of tonight, she definitely likes you better.”
Ford watched as Annabelle’s mouth opened and closed, yet no words were coming out. He decided to give her some space and took one of the mugs for himself and left the room.
“If you want to talk – about anything – I’m right across the hall,” he said before closing the door on his daughter.
Ford drove straight from the airport to the construction site. He didn’t want to go home to an empty house now that Annabelle was on a plane back to California. The few days into the new year that they had spent together had been better than the last days of the previous year, and Ford had hope he could rebuild his relationship with his daughter, even from the opposite coast.
Not that he wasn’t looking into other options, of course. If the opportunity presented itself, he wasn’t about to turn down a business opportunity that took him away from Greenport. Especially if it brought him closer to Annabelle.
Kristen had made him realize that the reason his relationship with Annabelle was strained wasn’t because of the physical distance between them, but the emotional one. Trying to act the responsible parent and steering Annabelle away from the frivolous lifestyle her mother advocated had turned him into a grumpy and bossy father. No wonder Annabelle preferred sunny California when Ford’s mood could darken even the clearest Massachusetts sky.
Kristen. He hadn’t spoken to her since the night she slammed the door in his face, but he knew he couldn’t put it off forever. He needed to apologize, but he didn’t know how to go from here. The problem remained – they lived very different lives. Even if Annabelle accepted Kristen as a part of their family unit – and he was pretty sure she would – Kristen was still his polar opposite. She went out and enjoyed life wherever she could while he shut himself away, hiding out in familiar surroundings.
Despite all that, though, he couldn’t deny that his feelings for her weren’t going anywhere. He’d fallen in love with her. If he hadn’t figured it out before, it became pretty evident when they spent the weekend together in New York. He’d seen her bond with Annabelle; effortlessly fit herself into both of their lives. Not because she’d tried to, but because she simply couldn’t help herself.
The construction site came into view and Ford steeled himself for his first meeting with Kristen since their confrontation.
Kristen looked up from her papers when she heard a truck pull up outside the trailer. Realizing it was Ford, she quickly tucked the document she’d been reading back into its envelope and slipped it in between her other papers.
The door opened and his frame filled the doorway.
“Hey.”
His voice was raspy and calm, but the cold coming in through the open door made Kristen shiver. She instinctively rubbed her arms.
“Good morning.”
“I just dropped Annabelle off at the airport,” he said and stepped inside, pulling the door to the trailer shut behind him.
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“I’m the one who should be sorry, Kristen,” Ford said and walked over to the table, pulling up a chair. “I’m sorry I blew up at you.”
“You were worried about Annabelle. Don’t worry, I get it.” Kristen straightened her pile of papers in an attempt to distract herself. “I may not have any experience whatsoever when it comes to parenting, but I understand that, at le
ast.”
“Kristen,” Ford said and took her hands in his, “you have better instincts than you think. You were right – about a lot of things.”
Kristen felt her whole body heat up – Ford’s warmth seeping into her skin from where they touched – and forced herself to meet his eyes. They were sincere as they looked back at her.
“I have something else to apologize for, too,” he said calmly and Kristen felt the warmth drain as quickly as it had arrived. “I told Annabelle about us. Well, about me – how I feel about you.”
Kristen swallowed, a million thoughts running through her head at once. Which question to ask first? ‘How did she react’ or ‘how do you feel about me’? Clearly, her indecision showed, because Ford went right ahead and answered her unspoken question.
“I’m in love with you, Kristen.”
Kristen blinked. Then she blinked again. Then her mouth did an impression of a gold fish and she blinked some more.
“You can’t be serious,” she blurted. In all the movies she’d seen and all the books she’d read… in no way were those the words that came out of the heroine’s mouth when the hero proclaimed his affections. Well, maybe she’d been watching the wrong kind of movies – the ones where all the obstacles miraculously disappeared as soon as the ‘three little words’ were spoken. In real life, it didn’t work that way. At least not in hers.
“No, of course I’m joking,” Ford said drily, “I just forgot to put the laugh track on. Why on earth would I possibly fall in love with a woman so far out of my league that we’re playing different sports?”
“We’ve known each other for – what, four months? People just don’t fall in love in four months,” Kristen argued.
“I’d be willing to wager people fall in love all the time – and in a much shorter time span, at that.”
“So is this the part where I’m supposed to say I feel the same way?”
“No. I know you have doubts – not just about us, but about relationships in general. All I’m asking for is a chance to prove you wrong. Come stay with me until this project is done. You were willing to move back in just a few days ago…”
“That was then.”
“And this is now. Clean slate. What do you say?”
“How did Annabelle react?”
“She was a little shocked, I think. Mostly at the thought a cool California girl such as yourself could ever settle for a surly old man like myself.”
“You’re not old,” Kristen rolled her eyes. She wasn’t going to comment on the surly.
“She likes you, Kristen. If for no other reason than making me a ‘funner’ dad.”
“That’s not a word.”
“See? Beautiful and smart. What’s not to love?” he teased and Kristen couldn’t hold back a smile.
“What happened to you?” Kristen said, amused. “Where’s the surly Ford Hamm I’ve gotten to know and respect?”
“I really don’t know… will you let me know if you see him around? I’d like to tell him to cheer up a bit.”
“I’ll make sure to tell him,” Kristen smiled. “So. Are you here to work or to wax poetic?”
Ford held up his hardhat in response. “I’ll see you later.”
Kristen remained at the table, staring at the door as it closed behind him. What on earth had just happened? Had she driven off the cliff on her way to work and ended up in the Twilight Zone without realizing it? Had Ford really just stepped into the trailer and announced that he was in love with her?
Kristen felt like her head was spinning, and there was a distinct pressure on her temples. She rubbed them to ease the pressure, but it didn’t do any good. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was supposed to come to Greenport, do her job and leave with glowing recommendations and a new sense of accomplishment. She wasn’t supposed to spend every waking moment either worrying about how she was screwing up her first major assignment or thinking about Ford.
She still couldn’t believe what he’d said. She absolutely refused to analyze how she felt about it, because that would only lead into dangerous territory. No matter what Ford thought, there was a greater distance between them than just miles.
Kristen sighed heavily and retrieved the envelope she’d hid before Ford came in, opening it back up and studying the contents. Right, Kristen, you’re completely indifferent to Ford Hamm, she rolled her eyes at her blatant denial.
SIXTEEN
Kristen stood outside Ford’s door, her bags in a pile behind her. It was cold, and she knew that she either had to actually knock on the door or get back in her rental car and check back into the B&B she’d vacated less than an hour ago. Her breath was making clouds in the air around her and her nose was probably turning read from the blistering cold. She’d gotten this far, it was too late to back out now. One deep, painful breath and then her knuckles met the wooden door.
She resisted the urge to do a little dance to warm herself up while she waited for Ford to answer the door, feeling ridiculous enough already.
When he finally opened the door and warm inside air rushed towards her, she was prepared to fall at his feet and beg to be let in to sit by the fire. There was no need for measures that extreme, though, as Ford quickly pulled her – and her luggage – inside, shutting the harsh winter out.
“Well, this is a surprise,” he said, stepping back to look her over.
“I’m sorry. I should have called. I was just… I guess I was hoping the invitation still stood.”
“It does. Are you hungry?”
“That’s it? You’re not gonna ask me what made me change my mind, or what this means?”
Ford shrugged. “I figure you’ll tell me when you’re ready. Coffee?”
“Thanks.”
“You want me to put your bags in your room?” Ford gestured to her suitcases and Kristen felt a twinge of disappointment. He was assuming she wanted to move back in for practical reasons. Well, maybe that was just as well.
“Thanks, that’d be great,” she smiled while she unwound her scarf and unbuttoned her jacket. Ford didn’t linger to ask any more questions, he simply picked up her bags and headed for the upstairs.
Ford glanced over at Kristen, who was eating a sandwich next to him on the couch, a fire roaring in the background and a movie playing on the television set. He didn’t know why she’d decided to move back in, or what she wanted in terms of their relationship. He was sick and tired of wondering about it, too.
Over the past week, they’d worked without much interaction, and then, all of a sudden, she was on his doorstep, her suitcases packed. He didn’t understand it, but he wasn’t going to push, either. If he’d learned anything from dealing with Annabelle, it was that letting people have their space would turn out a whole lot better than trying to make their decisions for them.
That didn’t mean it was easy, sitting next to Kristen on his couch and not making a move to test the waters.
Kristen could see Ford glancing at her out of the corner of her eye. When had they turned into hormonal teenagers? She found herself tongue-tied and awkward – a far cry from the respected business woman she’d like to imagine herself to be. Was it the couch – bringing back memories of heavy make-out sessions?
In any case, she felt the tension increase with every passing hour. Her bags were upstairs – in Annabelle’s room. He hadn’t even intimated that she would be welcome to stay in his room, as they had talked about before. He hadn’t tried to touch her or kiss her since she stepped inside his house. Had he changed his mind now that he’d had some time to think? The anxiety kept on building inside until Kristen couldn’t take it any longer.
“I’m exhausted,” she said and rose from her seat on the couch. “Do you mind if I head to bed early?”
“No, of course not. Go ahead.” He may have been looking at her before, when he thought she wasn’t watching, but he wasn’t now. Apparently, the female hygiene product commercial that was currently playing was fascinating stuff.
“Okay. N
ight, then,” Kristen said, suddenly in no hurry to leave the room. Ford, however, didn’t pay her any attention. With a sigh, she headed upstairs to her lovely cot.
Sleeping should be an Olympic sport, Kristen concluded after failing miserably at it for two hours straight. She may be mentally and physically exhausted, but she sure wasn’t able to sleep it off. Instead, she lay awake listening to the house and, eventually, Ford, as he got ready for bed and headed into his own room.
She wondered if he, too, would lie awake thinking about what might have been. If only… if only love ever worked out in the long run. If only they didn’t live on opposite coasts. If only…
With a loud sigh of frustration, bordering that of a dog’s trying to get its owner’s attention and some food along with it, Kristen threw off the covers and slipped her feet into slippers. She’d taken a risk by checking out of her B&B and showing up unannounced on Ford’s doorstep, and she was about to take an even bigger one.
She didn’t bother with a robe – it was still packed up, anyway – and walked out of her room in just her camisole and silky pajama pants. The house was chilled – out of reach of the easy warmth of the fireplace downstairs – and Kristen felt her skin contract and break out in bumps all over. She hugged herself, rubbing her arms, and inched open the door to the master bedroom.
It was dark, but the moon peeking out from behind clouds shone some light on the sleeping shape in the bed. It was warmer in here than it was in the hallway, probably attributed to the heater mounted on the wall under his window. Kristen carefully shut the door behind her, keeping her eyes on Ford’s rising and falling chest throughout. He appeared to be sleeping, and she wondered if she’d made a horrible mistake. What if he hadn’t given her a moment’s thought since she went to bed and he was going to wake up screaming if he found her in his room in the middle of the night, watching him like some kind of Peeping Tom.
She was still debating her next course of action when Ford, with his eyes still closed, lifted the covers, indicating there was plenty of room in the bed. Kristen sighed and stomped on over, getting into the bed.