by Lori Wilde
His head had lolled to one side, and his eyes were droopy.
Feeling very tired herself, she left the museum and began the walk back to the hotel. Once they were back in the luxurious suite, she fed and changed Lucas, looked without interest at the room-service menu, then ordered the closest thing to a grilled cheese sandwich she could find.
While Lucas slept, she finished the book she’d been reading, a study of various mental conditions, wondering again if she was doing the right thing or ruining her life forever.
Jake tried hard to listen to what Richard Stein and his colleagues were saying. “Six franchises to start with”—blah, blah, blah—“…not economically viable to have three different main dishes each night, so we were thinking about a blue plate special for each night of the week, repeated every week.” Yada, yada, yada.
He could hear the words; he was aware that although the plan made economic sense, he didn’t like it much, but his mind was on Abbie.
She’d thrown him a curve this morning, made him wonder what she really wanted to do. When she suggested she didn’t have to go back to school immediately, he should have leapt at the chance she was handing him on a velvet pillow—and handed back that same pillow with an engagement ring on it.
Still, he’d heard the uncertainty in her voice. She didn’t want to be, and he didn’t want her to be, one of those people who’d grown up in Falling Star and couldn’t imagine going beyond it. It was different for him. The small town was his resting place from the fights he’d had with the world outside Falling Star.
Maybe, just maybe, there was a way for each of them to…
“How does this sound so far?” Stein asked him.
“Like something that will take a lot of thought,” Jake said, knowing he wasn’t talking about franchising, but about Abbie.
After the meeting ended, he headed back to the hotel. He couldn’t wait to talk to her about the information he’d gleaned. He was so conflicted about what he wanted to do with Jake’s Place, he felt only Abbie could straighten him out.
Was he using her, or was it just that he depended on her? Too much, maybe. He and Lucas both did. But franchising was an important issue, wasn’t it? He’d kiss her, hug her, snuggle her against him, and after…well, after, maybe she could help him weigh the pros against the cons.
It occurred to him that he could return the favor, help her sort out the pros and cons of going back to school, like when and how to…
How to. Yes! He walked faster. There were ways for Abbie to go back to school and still be a part of his and Lucas’ life. Ideas hummed through his head. With every step as he crossed the lobby, his heart felt lighter. He’d tell her all about it, even before they talked about his day at Abernathy.
He stepped into the suite intending to do just that, but instead of finding Abbie alone, he found her holding Lucas.
“He’s teething,” she said, looking down affectionately at the fussy boy grinding his fists into his mouth. “We had some medicine delivered, and I was about to rub it on his gums.”
The conversation would have to wait until the right moment presented itself. Right now, he was worried about Lucas.
He took off his suit jacket, sat beside her, and took Lucas onto his lap. She squeezed a small amount of the medicine onto her fingertip and approached Lucas’ mouth with it.
He wailed, turned away from her, and buried his head under Jake’s arm. As Jake was about to offer Lucas’ mouth for medication, she said, “Look, Lucas, look at Abbie.”
Lucas quieted down and took a peek. Abbie rubbed her fingertip over her own gums. “Ooh, that feels so good,” she crooned. “It’s cool, and it tastes pretty good… you know, I think I’ll just rub in some more since you’re not interested.”
Lucas sat up and stared at her, pressing down hard on another one of those teething biscuits. “Yum, yum,” she said in a singsong voice. “I might have to use all of it, Lucas, because it’s so nice.”
It wasn’t long before Lucas reached out for the tube. Abbie said, “I guess I could let you have some, too, if you really want it. Open your mouth and close your eyes and you will get a big surprise.”
Of course Lucas didn’t understand the directions, but he let her take the cookie away from him and open his mouth just enough to rub the gel on his gums, ever so gently, ever so lightly. Talking to him softly, she massaged and massaged until Jake felt the baby begin to droop in his lap.
“He’s almost asleep,” she whispered, gazing at Lucas’ closed eyes, at Jake holding Lucas with such assurance, feeling her heart expand with love for both of them.
Jake nodded. “You did a great job. You made Lucas think that salve was the next best thing to ice cream. Now that’s good psychology. It’s what you were meant to do.”
“I hope so.” Or was she meant to be Jake’s wife, Lucas’ mother? Could she do both?
Her heart pounded loudly in her chest. “Jake,” she said, “I want to hear all about your day.” She paused. “And talk about some other things, too.”
“I’ll put this boy to bed,” Jake said abruptly, “and then we can talk.”
When he went back to the living room, Abbie was curled on the couch, looking so desirable that he was about to reach out for her, about to spill out all his thoughts about their future together, when she said in an all-too-practical tone, “What happened today?”
He guessed he’d have to start with the business side of the conversation. He sat beside her, wishing her curled-up legs weren’t keeping him from sitting closer. “They want to make some big changes, and I’m not sure I like them. It’s a catch-22. Jake’s Place is unique, but what makes it unique also makes it hard to franchise.”
Abbie nodded. “You’ve put your own stamp on the diner. Without you right there in the kitchen or talking to the customers, it won’t be the same. But it could still be good.”
He sighed and leaned back against the cushions. “They’re offering me so much money. I’d be rich.”
As he’d expected, Abbie didn’t seem impressed by that. “If that would make you happy, you should consider the offer.”
He closed his eyes. “Happy to have done something meaningful, but personally, I might be miserable. Abernathy would like me to move to New York and work for them to replicate our menu. Specials, yes, but more like cookie-cutter Texas fare. Everything we offer would be by formula—a hamburger would be six ounces of beef, an inch and a quarter thick, and so on. I’d like to have some influence on those decisions, but”—he leaned toward her—“I’m not moving to New York. Abbie—”
“Jake,” she interrupted him, no longer looking or sounding practical. “If you want to move to New York, you should. Because I’ve made a difficult decision. You’ll never know how difficult.” Her eyes filled with tears.
Jake drew back a little. It took all his self-control to keep his voice steady. “Go on.”
“The first thing I have to tell you is…is that I love you.”
“I love you, too. With all my heart. And I was thinking—”
“No, wait. Let me finish.” Her gaze pleaded with him to understand. “I realize love isn’t all passion and romance. It’s doing the best thing for the person you love.”
“Abbie, the best thing—”
“The best thing”—and her voice broke—“is for you to be free to become a real father to Lucas, to be free to make this deal with Abernathy without having me to think about. I’m getting out of your life, Jake, so we can both do what’s best for us.” A soft sob escaped her. “I don’t want it to be this way, but it has to. Please understand. I love Lucas, too, so very much, and I think he loves me. But he needs permanence in his life. That’s you, Jake, unencumbered and showering all your love on him.”
“Wait, we can make this work,” he said.
She took a deep breath. “I want to go to school, Jake. I want to get my degree and build a practice. You need to focus on your restaurant and your son.”
He knew she was right. If he tried t
o change her mind, she might give up her plans, and he couldn’t let that happen.
“I can move to wherever you go to school,” he offered, meaning it.
She shook her head. “That won’t work, and we both know it. If you and I both feel this way once I’ve finished what I have to do, maybe we can start all over again. But until then, we need to be realistic about what is best for both of us.”
He hated admitting that she was right. They both had things in life on which they needed to focus.
“I don’t want it to be this way, either, but I know you’re right.” He gazed into her eyes. “As soon as we get back to Falling Star, I’ll find a new nanny.”
She nodded, then slowly she stood and walked away—to the bedroom next to Lucas’ rather than the one they’d shared.
Jake stayed on the sofa, feeling as if his life had ended.
Abbie made a tour of Mrs. Langston’s house, looking for anything she might have forgotten, then went back to the living room where her mother waited to say goodbye.
“I’m proud of you, honey. I know it wasn’t an easy decision,” Elaine said. “But getting a doctorate in psychology is a good decision. An adult decision. You won’t regret it. And Texas Tech in Lubbock has a high-quality program.”
Abbie nodded absently. She was going to miss this house. A lot. Just like she was going to miss this town. And the people. And…
Jake and Lucas.
“In Lubbock you won’t be as distracted as if you stayed here,” Elaine went on, “surrounded by memories. Being away will ease the hurt a little.”
Abbie felt that nothing could ever dull the pain. “I just hope I can get into the doctoral program,” she said, feeling as dull as her voice. She closed her second suitcase and placed it near the doorway.
“I’m confident they’ll accept you.” Elaine’s voice was reassuring. “And you’re so lucky you can stay in Suzy’s apartment until you find your own place to settle into.”
Again, Abbie nodded. Yes, she was lucky. Lucky that her friend Suzy was spending the fall semester doing some special coursework in Dallas. Lucky that she would be able to talk to professors, department heads, and campus counselors to get an even better idea of what she was getting into.
She was just overflowing with luck these days.
“Of course, I’ll miss you, but you’ll be back soon for the benefit.” Her mother folded an afghan and laid it over the back of Abbie’s special wing chair.
The benefit. The details of the dinner were in perfect order, but could she bear to go to it? To see Jake so soon? “I’m not sure if I’ll come back, Mom. We’ll see.”
Her mother raised a cautionary hand. “You can’t miss it. I don’t know what exactly happened between you and Jake, but you still have to come to the benefit, Abbie. You have a responsibility to see it through to the end.”
Her mother’s expression was stern, and she was using the same voice she’d used when Abbie had been small and had tracked mud into the house.
But her mother didn’t understand. Right now, she couldn’t imagine being in a room with Jake without bursting into tears. A sobbing woman wouldn’t exactly help them raise money for the foster care center.
Just as she realized the bitterness in her thoughts, her mother said, “Lemonade.”
Abbie stared at her.
“Lemonade,” her mother said again. “You’ve been handed a bag of lemons, Abbie. You have a choice. You can either let them turn you sour and bitter or—”
“I can make lemonade,” Abbie said.
Her mother patted her cheek. “Yes, exactly. So go make lemonade.”
20
“We have to start sometime,” Jake told Lucas. He stood at the head of the stairs with Lucas on his hip, the diaper bag slung around his neck and the playpen dangling from his right hand.
He’d never fallen down the stairs, but if he ever did, it would be this morning. He couldn’t leave Lucas alone while he took the playpen down, so he’d have to do it the other way around.
“Would you mind bringing the playpen down from the head of the stairs?” he asked an intern on morning duty.
The intern glanced at Lucas, then looked nervously back at the soup he’d been stirring. “You have time before it burns,” Jake said, “but hurry.”
The intern darted away and darted right back with the playpen. Jake hauled it into his office and put Lucas in it with a stacking toy and the stuffed rabbit.
Just looking at the rabbit Abbie had bought for Lucas made him sad.
He got to work, keeping the door to his office open so he had a clear view of Lucas. Fifteen minutes of work, and Lucas began to whimper. He didn’t need a diaper change, Jake discovered. He didn’t want conversation, either, because Jake tried and got smacked on the hand with the rabbit.
He knew what was wrong. Lucas was bored. He didn’t want to spend his life playing in a playpen. By now, Abbie would have been on the floor with him upstairs, joining him in his games. Then she’d dress him for their first walk of the day.
Jake ached when he thought about Abbie, so he just wouldn’t think about her. “Hang on,” he told Lucas. “If I can just make a little more progress here, we’ll do something fun.”
Lucas scowled, but he busied himself with two plastic spoons Jake had given him.
With the benefit tomorrow night and somehow keeping Jake’s Place open, Jake was strapped for time. Since Abbie had left, he’d felt as if he were plodding through molasses. No, he wasn’t going to think about Abbie. He was going to think about—
His gaze moved in an arc when the plastic spoons flew past him and landed an amazing distance from the playpen. Lucas screwed up his face and started to cry. Jake picked him up. “Hey,” he said, “don’t tell me you don’t want to be in the restaurant business.”
He bounced Lucas up and down. He was afraid to take him close to the kitchen equipment, so he pointed. “See Barney?” he said. “See how much fun he’s having flipping those pancakes?”
Lucas buried his face in Jake’s shirt and howled. “Let me take him a minute,” Colleen said, putting down the breakfast order she was about to take out.
He handed Lucas over and took the order out himself. In the background, he could hear Lucas’ howls turning into screams, so he dashed back into the office. “Maybe he’s sick,” he said, but Lucas’ forehead was cool even though his face was hot and red from crying.
“He’s missing Abbie,” Colleen said pointedly and handed Lucas back to Jake.
She didn’t have to tell him. He felt like howling, too.
At nine o’clock, when everybody in the kitchen and half the customers had held Lucas for a while, he gave up.
“Lucas,” he said persuasively, “how about a walk?” Lucas stopped throwing the rabbit out of the playpen for Becky to put back in.
“Okay, let’s do it. Get as far with this as you can,” he told the intern who’d been prepping the dinner special. “I’ll be back in a while.”
The phone rang. Colleen answered it, and Jake was almost out the door when she rushed after him, the portable in her hand. “This sounds important.”
Impatiently, juggling Lucas on his hip, he took the phone. “Earl Ritter here,” the voice said.
“Mr. Ritter. Hey, could I call you back? I have an unhappy boy here—”
“In a minute,” Ritter said. “I’m at Thomas’ house going through his papers, as I was instructed to do, and found a letter to you. Perhaps he meant to include it with the will. I’ll send it to you.”
Just what he needed right now. A note from his father. What could the man do that he hadn’t already done?
He had to know, as soon as possible, get it over with. “Would you fax the letter to me?” Jake asked as Lucas began to squirm and yell at the same time.
“Of course. If you don’t mind my opening it.”
“Open it. Fax it. Here’s the number.”
He handed the phone back to Colleen, then took a long, long look at Lucas, his father’
s child, his half-brother. His son. He couldn’t wait for the fax, although he wanted to. He needed to get Lucas calmed down. He took the baby upstairs, changed him, dressed him for the outdoors and, motivated by Lucas’ obvious distress, began to hurry.
With Lucas in the stroller, he set off at a brisk pace. Peering down to see how the boy was doing, he saw that while he wasn’t crying, he didn’t look happy, either.
He was doing the best he could, Jake told himself. He was taking time away from his work to walk a fussy child; he was trying to entertain him, and he hadn’t lost his temper. He had a new burden on his shoulders—that note from Thomas—and still he was doing what it took to make Lucas happy. What more could anyone ask of him?
Plenty, he told himself a few minutes later when Lucas began whimpering again. Maybe the thing to do was to tell him what had happened and why he should be happy for Abbie. It would be a heck of a lot better than going on saying it to himself. He went across the street and into the town square, found a bench in a sun-dappled spot beneath some trees, then sat down and pulled the stroller close to him.
“Here’s the deal, Lucas. You love Abbie, and she loves you. She loves me, too. She told me she loves me, and heaven help me, I love her more than my own life. I want her, I need her.”
Lucas’ eyes had opened wide at the sound of Abbie’s name. “But she needs more out of life than being a nanny. She’s smart, Lucas, really smart. She needs a career. She needs the self-satisfaction of knowing she’s helping more people than just us. Unhappy people who will feel better after they talk to her.”
Just the way I do. And I need to talk to her now, need her with me when I read that letter.
Lucas’ face screwed up, and he looked as if he was about to cry again.
“I know, I know,” Jake said quickly. “You’re unhappy, too, and I admit it, kiddo, I’m not happy myself, but we can’t ask Abbie to come back and save us. She has her own work to do.”
Lucas frowned deeply, and Jake began to feel desperate. “We have to encourage her to do what is best for her,” he insisted. “Maybe someday she can come back, when she’s a full-fledged psychologist. Maybe she’ll decide to set up an office in town and live with us. Who knows? Whaddaya think about that, huh?”