Luke handed each of them a business card. "Call anytime." He held onto the card when Aiden tried to take his. "When you feel yourself slipping, when you just need to talk, I answer the phone at all hours of the day and night. I mean it, man, call if you need to."
"Yeah, okay." Aiden took the card and shoved it in his back pocket. "I'll do that."
He wouldn't, though. Garrison could tell by the look in his son's eyes, a flash of honesty. Aiden was just going through the motions. Well, who could blame him? Garrison wouldn't want to come here, either.
Sam slid the business card into her purse. "You have openings?"
"Oh, right. I meant to say, we don't have any beds available right now, but we have one person graduating this week for sure—so we should have a bed available late this week or early next. But I'd need to get you on a waiting list."
"So we should decide soon," Garrison said.
"The sooner, the better."
Chapter 17
Samantha had done it. She'd gone to Dover, toured the rehab with them, and survived.
They were nearly back to the cabin when she got a text from Rae, her oldest and, finally again, closest friend. Sam read the text, then turned to Garrison. "Rae wants to know if you and Aiden want to come for a cookout tonight."
"That'd be fun." He glanced in the rearview mirror. "What do you think, son? You want to meet some of my friends?"
"Whatever."
"Wow, dude. Dial back the enthusiasm." He softened his words with a smile. Aiden didn't respond. "I guess that's a yes. What can we bring?"
Sam texted Rae and asked the question. "She said for you to bring nothing." Sam smiled to herself at her friend's hinted message—tell Garrison not to bring anything, unless he knows your caramel brownie recipe. Sam always kept the ingredients on hand, so she replied that she'd come with dessert.
Another text came in. She read it, then said, "Nate and Marisa will be there with Ana. And a few more people you haven't met. And it looks like Caro and Laurie are coming, too." Sam turned to face Aiden. "Caro's your age. Laurie's twenty-two, I think. You'll like them."
Aiden's smile was polite. Or maybe tolerant was the right word. "Great. Sounds like fun."
Sam turned back to face the front. She'd offered to sit in the back again, but Aiden had insisted. He seemed to be in the middle of some internal battle. Sam could practically hear the clanking of swords in his mind. She wondered what ideas were vying for power in there.
"Just so you know, nobody knows why you're here. I just told my friends"—she glanced at Aiden—"your dad's friends, too, that you're here for vacation."
"Great." Aiden glanced at the back of his father's head. His expression darkened. Anger? That's what it looked like. "Good to know."
"Not that you can't tell them. It just wasn't my place."
"Yeah, buddy," Garrison said. "That'd be up to you."
"Wouldn't want to embarrass you, though, Dad. Wouldn't want your friends to know your son's such a screw up."
Garrison blew out a long breath, sighed, and pulled the car over on the narrow road leading to the lake.
Sam faced forward, afraid she was about to overhear something they maybe didn't want her to hear. She considered getting out of the car while Garrison shifted into park and turned to face his son.
"You'll never be an embarrassment to me. You've made some bad choices, but you're not defined by your choices. You are more than an addict. I'm proud of you. I've always been proud of you. Nothing's going to change that."
His words filled her eyes with tears, her heart with tenderness for this man who would work so hard to ease his son's fears. Her throat ached with emotion, and it was all she could do to keep her hands in her lap, to not reach out to him, to comfort him the way he was comforting Aiden.
She didn't look to see Aiden's reaction, felt like she didn't belong, but she didn't want to be anywhere else in the world.
Aiden's voice was broken by emotion. "If you say so."
"I say so. If you want to tell people what's going on, then do it. If you don't, then don't. It's entirely up to you, and I'll support you whatever you decide."
"Okay."
Garrison settled back in his seat, looked at Sam out of the corner of his eye, and nearly smiled. He maneuvered back onto the road, and they continued silently until they turned into the driveway.
Chapter 18
Garrison stepped into the speedboat. "You sure you don't want to come?"
Sam untied the boat from the pier and tossed the ropes toward him. "I've got some work to do this afternoon. You two have fun, though. Sorry you can't ski."
"Why can't we?" Aiden asked.
"We need a third." Garrison turned to his son. "To be a spotter, in case something goes wrong."
Aiden glanced at Sam with a smirk. "That's stupid."
Garrison turned back to her. "Thanks for letting us use the boat."
Her smile was kind, her eyes, though...what was that look? "See you tonight."
Garrison watched her walk away until his son spoke beside him. "Dude, you're, like, whipped."
"I'm not your dude." Garrison maneuvered away from the pier. "What are you talking about?"
"You should see the look on your face when she's around. Could it be more obvious?"
Garrison kept his gaze forward as the boat motored toward open water, careful to avoid a couple of buoys. "We're just friends."
"You trying to convince me or yourself?"
Aiden's voice had gone from playful to serious pretty fast.
Garrison longed to hit the throttle, make the engine too loud to talk over, but he was still in the no-wake zone. He wasn't ready to talk to Aiden about this. Wasn't ready to face the truth himself. Coming to Nutfield had been a mistake. He should be focused on Aiden and Aiden alone, but there was Sam, kind and helpful and...what was that look he'd seen in her eyes?
He could feel Aiden's gaze on him.
"Not trying to convince either of us," Garrison said. "It's just true."
"You obviously like her."
Obviously? Was it obvious to Sam, too? Was Sam just helping him because she felt sorry for him?
"Dad?"
Right. His son was waiting for a response. "Okay, if you think I like her, how do you feel about that?"
"How do you feel about it?" Aiden asked. "After Mom."
Aiden knew too much about what had gone down between him and his ex. Charlene had done a heckuva job on Garrison's ability to trust. She'd racked up massive debt. She'd lied to him so often he'd quit believing anything she said. And then she'd left him.
In the beginning, Garrison and Charlene had been happy. They'd had a good marriage, a happy home. And then everything changed. The woman he loved had become someone else, someone ugly and selfish.
Garrison puttered past the final buoy and pushed on the throttle. The boat lurched forward, the engine purring too loudly to talk over.
Which left Garrison with nothing to do but think.
His feelings for Sam were obvious to Aiden. Were they obvious to Sam? If so, what would she do with that knowledge? Sam was nothing like his ex, but that didn't mean she didn't have faults. She wasn't perfect. He'd never met a soul who was. Yet, he'd trusted her with his heart, with everything. For months, he'd been baring his soul to her. Talking into his cell phone, he'd felt safe with her. She knew so much. She knew too much. About his feelings. About his fears and doubts.
Sheesh, how pathetic had he been, whining on the phone like some tween girl? Sam had seemed to like how he'd shared, but now, what did it mean for them?
Garrison couldn't have gotten through the tour of that rehab facility without Samantha.
He couldn't have gotten through any of this without her. Without Sam, he'd still be slogging on the internet, trying to figure out what to do next. She'd helped him with that, helped him with everything.
He'd promised himself after Charlene he would never allow himself to become dependent on a woman again. On anyone. Ever.
>
Yet here he was, dependent on Sam.
The thought hit him hard as he maneuvered the boat across the smooth water. He turned to his son and saw the wide smile. At least Aiden wasn't thinking about Sam any longer. He'd let the boy drive in a minute. Right now, he had to think.
He remembered the look she'd just given him at the pier. Yes, he could name it, though the thought of it made him ill. Pity.
She'd looked at him with pity.
He recognized it because he'd seen it before. He'd seen it in his ex-wife's eyes after he'd bared his soul to her. What had Charlene done with his honesty?
She'd stockpiled his hurts like weapons.
No chance Garrison would let that happen again. Not with Sam. Not with anybody.
Chapter 19
Samantha had considered joining Garrison and Aiden on the boat that afternoon but decided she'd better not. Poor Garrison had seemed so overwhelmed by it all. Who could blame him? And Aiden had put on a good front, but he had to be reeling from all they'd heard. They needed time alone together.
And she needed to get her head on straight.
Just because she'd been able to go to Dover without incident didn't mean anything. She'd been filled with anxiety every moment of the trip. Only when she'd stepped into the cocoon of her own home had the last of the fear drained away. But she knew it would be back.
She'd done it. For Garrison, she'd done it. After a long shower and a cup of tea, she was able to appreciate the small victory in that. She stepped onto the back porch of her condo and aimed her gaze at the sky. God was with her. He'd helped her get through the trip today.
Thank you.
The birds trilled in the trees and competed with the sounds of the family enjoying the playground across the way. Lots of families lived in this complex, so she had plenty of opportunity to observe, to yearn for what they had. She'd given up on ever having a child of her own. To do that, she'd have to have a husband, and she'd given up on that, too.
She'd cared for Garrison since she met him, had even allowed herself to dream of what it would be like if he lived here, if they could be together. But after witnessing him with Aiden these last few days, after seeing the unconditional love in the man's eyes when he looked at his son, she realized that her feelings went far beyond care. Her feelings for him were deeper than she'd felt for any man in a long time. Maybe ever.
She was falling hard.
The thought made her physically ill. She rushed to the bathroom. The tea came up and splashed in the toilet, joined in the bleach-scented water by her tears. She sat back on the cold tile, allowed the chill to seep into her warm skin and bring her back to reality.
What was she doing? Didn't she already know how this would end?
Shame fell on her. She allowed herself a moment to remember. Just a moment to keep her sane, keep her planted firmly on this floor. No dreaming, no hoping, no planning.
She'd made her choice a long time before. There was no going back. And no going forward. There was just this. This condo, this town, this life. And it was enough. She had friends, she owned her own business. When she felt the need to explore, she did it through the portal of the internet, used her fingers instead of her feet, and went anywhere she wanted. She didn't need anything more.
She didn't.
After she brushed her teeth, she met her eyes in the mirror. "There can never be anything with Garrison."
Her eyes seemed to say, "But maybe..."
But maybe there could.
Maybe going to Dover today was the first step to healing. Maybe she could learn to trust a man again. Maybe she would be stronger this time. Maybe it wouldn't end it heartbreak.
Maybe she shouldn't shut herself off.
Her heart couldn't help but hope. She feared she'd pay for that soon enough.
She baked a pan of caramel brownies, then worked the rest of the afternoon, one eye on the clock. At five-thirty, the anxiety hit. Should she even go? Maybe she should give Garrison and Aiden a break, let them enjoy the rest of their day without her, let Garrison catch up with his friends. Garrison had grown close to Nate and Marisa during their long ordeal last spring, and he and Brady had hit it off as well. They didn't need Sam there. Probably didn't want her.
And there she went again, allowing her fear to dictate her life. These were her closest friends in the world. If she didn't show up, they'd think something terrible had happened. When they learned the truth, that she'd blown them off, they'd be hurt she'd avoided them.
Before she could dwell on it any longer, she grabbed the brownies and pushed out her front door.
Ten minutes later, she pulled into the driveway at Rae's house. Well, Brady's, too, now that they were married, but she had a hard time thinking of this as his place. Rae had grown up in this old farmhouse. She, Sam, and Brady had spent endless summer days of childhood exploring the woods out back, picking wild blueberries, and climbing tall pines. Sam tried not to think of the years she and Rae hadn't been friends. Like most of Sam's traumas in her past, that too was all her fault. But Rae had forgiven her, and they were as close as ever.
Garrison's Camry was parked in the long driveway. Sam parked behind him, grabbed the brownies, and went inside. The house was quiet, but she could hear voices coming through the screen door that led to the backyard. No central air in this place, so all the windows were open to let in what little breeze there was. She set the brownies on the counter and stepped onto the back porch.
She saw Garrison first. His skin was darker after a day on the water, and his smile was wide when he joined her at the door. "So glad you made it."
His nearness was like a salve, soothing her anxious places. She was tempted to step even closer, to lean against him. She stepped away instead. "I'm not late, right?"
"Just a few minutes." Garrison's gaze was magnetic, and she couldn't look away.
There was so much she wanted to say to him, how well she thought he was handling things with Aiden, how strong he was, how kind.
Rae spotted her and stepped in for a hug. "Did you bring the brownies?"
"Would I let you down?"
"You never have," Rae said.
Sam let the generous lie slide.
Eric Nolan called out, "Hey, Sam."
She led Garrison to where Eric, one of the Nutfield police officers, stood beside Brady at the grill. She gave him a quick hug. "It's been a while."
"Since you quit working for the town," Eric said, his Texas accent as thick as ever, "I never see you."
"Like most citizens, I try to avoid the police."
"We only get to spend time with the ones who can't seem to stay out of trouble. Who signed me up for this job?"
"Don't lie," she said, "you love it."
"I do. But I missed you last week. Arrested a guy who had seven cell phones in his car. Stolen. Without you there to break into the phones, it's so much harder to get them back to their owners."
"All you have to do is call. I love doing that stuff."
Brady piped in. "As long as you use your hacking skills for good, not evil."
"No promises." Sam bumped Brady's arm with her shoulder—didn't help that she was a foot shorter than he was—and spoke to Eric. "How've you been?"
"Working like a dog."
Brady smirked as he flipped the burgers. "An old lazy dog, maybe."
Eric punched him, nearly caused one of the burgers to slide off the spatula.
"You drop it," Brady said, "you eat it."
"You'd have to make me, Chief."
Garrison joined her, and the men fell into a conversation about catching bad guys. Eric seemed interested in Garrison's career with the FBI, and within a minute, Garrison was sharing stories about some of his cases. Nobody asked him about his work as a forensic accountant. She wasn't sure Garrison was all that interested in it, either.
When the back door opened, five-year-old Ana burst out at top speed. She spied Sam, raced across the patio, and plowed into her.
Sam crouched down
to hug her. "How's my favorite girl?"
"Mama said you brought those brownies I like. Can I have one?"
"If you eat your dinner."
Her little mouth turned down at the corners, and she said something in Spanish that Sam didn't understand.
Marisa stepped behind her. "English, pajarita."
Sam sized up the child. "Not sure your mama will be able to call you little bird much longer. You're getting so big."
"Nate says I'll be bigger than Mama soon."
"Are you excited about school?"
"Sí, no puedo esperar."
"She can't wait," Marisa translated.
Sam kept her focus on Ana. "Maybe you can teach me Spanish. I'd love to learn."
"Spanish is easy," the child said. "It's English that's hard."
Considering the girl had spent her first five years in Mexico, her English was pretty perfect. Didn't hurt that her mother was American, and a teacher. Marisa would start her job at Nutfield Middle School in just a few weeks. She'd been hired as an aide to the Spanish teacher, but Sam knew she'd much rather teach art. Maybe when she finished her college degree, she'd be able to slide into that role.
Sam stood to greet Marisa, but the woman was hugging Garrison. They pulled apart and spoke to each other in quiet voices, then Garrison stepped back and focused on Ana.
"I've heard a lot about you, little one."
Ana pressed into her mother's side.
Marisa knelt beside her daughter. "When you were missing, Mr. Kopp helped us find you."
Her beautiful chocolate eyes widened. "You did?"
"I didn't do very much," Garrison said.
"He did," Marisa said.
Ana leaned tentatively away from her mother, stepped toward Garrison, and lifted her arms.
He looked at Marisa for permission. When she nodded, he scooped up the little girl and rested her on his hip.
"Gracias," she said.
"De nada."
She turned to her mother. "El habla español."
Marisa's eyebrows lifted as she addressed Garrison. "Are you fluent?"
Generous Lies Page 11