I wasn’t sure I had ever heard her this talkative or excited.
Ashley was next. “Thanks, Dad, for everything today.”
He hugged her and kissed the top of her head.
That small act had my eyes stinging. I took a deep breath to ward off any unwanted tears. I was just … I don’t know what I was. Maybe relieved was a good word—relieved that Easton loved my Ashley too.
Easton turned his attention to me next. “Did I get you anything today?” he teased.
I handed him his platinum card that was begging for reprieve. “No.” I half-smiled.
“Well, I guess dinner will be my treat then.” He smiled back at me.
I didn’t even argue. It would have been a losing battle anyway.
We walked in to find that it wasn’t busy. We were seated right away by a young man that couldn’t keep his eyes off my daughter. I had a feeling her social calendar was going to be full and I was going to be at risk of a mild heart attack. I noticed Easton noticing, too. I smiled. By his reddened face, I could tell he was having a harder time with it than me.
Ashley, on the other hand, loved the attention. She squeezed my hand covertly while grinning slyly. She was too beautiful for my own good.
Easton and I somehow ended up seated next to one another at the small circular table. I was too tired to put up a fuss. I did my best to ignore that he was close enough to feel warmth radiating from him. I could also smell his warm, woodsy scent that used to drive me crazy. I tried ignoring it all, but was failing miserably. My hormones were betraying me. They were making me think that I liked him and missed him. I told myself it was a chemical reaction, nothing else.
The cozy café was sparsely populated, but most eyes were on us. Yes, we were causing quite the stir. I could hear the gossip now. I wondered how soon I would become the reason for the good doctor’s divorce. I knew I should be more like Easton and not care what others thought of me, but I did care. I already felt like a pariah. Daughter of the town’s biggest drunk, ex-wife of the handsome doctor, middle aged, single … You get the picture. All I needed was the Scarlet Letter. At least I wasn’t pregnant, I told myself.
After a few moments of perusing the menu, I was pleasantly surprised when Jessie came over.
“Taylor,” she called on her way over. She was dolled up and looked like she was in a hurry.
“Jessie, how are you?”
She approached and looked over the whole table. She, like everyone else, seemed to have a gleam in her eye when it came to us that night. “I wish I could stay and talk, but Blake’s waiting for me in his truck. We uh … well, we have plans.” She blushed some. “I’m just here to grab my cell phone. We need to catch up. We’ll have you all out to our house for a barbecue.”
“Perfect,” Easton chimed in.
It wasn’t perfect. We weren’t a package deal.
I didn’t get to lob my rebuttal because she hurried out to meet her husband. I could only guess what plans they had. I was happy for her. I knew she and Blake had struggled. It gave me some peace to know that some relationships made it.
Our server ended up being the young man that seated us. I had the feeling he took someone else’s job in serving our particular table. He seemed to only have eyes for my daughter. Easton must have noticed as well. He cleared his throat loudly. The punk averted his eyes immediately. Ashley blushed and looked into her menu.
I ordered a berry summer salad and a large lemon water. I had never been so thirsty. Easton ordered the same thing as me, and the girls each ordered a sandwich and a smoothie. The server-slash-stalker gave Ashley one more admiring glance and then left to place our order in the kitchen.
I looked around the café and admired it. It had been renovated since I last lived here. The café had a beautiful stone fireplace that sat squarely in the middle, with comfy chairs surrounding it. All the furniture was in shades of gray, with accents of warm colors like yellow and orange. To top it off, there were several beautiful black and white photos of the beautiful Colorado scenery hanging on the walls. I recognized several of the locations, like Maroon Bells and Rocky Mountain National Park. I think I had found my new favorite spot in town. I would have to tell Jessie I loved what she had done with the place.
The girls really needed to work on their bladder control because they left me alone with their dad … again.
He turned his attention toward me as soon as the girls left. “It sounds like you guys had a great day.”
“We did,” I said, with little emotion.
His tired eyes smiled at me. “I can’t say thank you enough. You have no idea how helpful you’ve been and the impact you’re having on Emmy.”
“Emmy’s a doll.”
He nodded his head to agree. He leaned in closer, to my discomfort, and changed the subject abruptly. “I saw your dad today. He mentioned how much he would like to see you.”
Why did he have to bring up Frank? I had almost been tolerating his company tonight.
I rubbed my forehead. “I’ll see him when I’m ready.” Which may be never.
Easton’s eyes narrowed in concern. “Time is running out.”
“Why do you care so much?” I whispered angrily.
He thought for a moment, as if he didn’t know how to respond. “I just think it would be good for both of you,” he stammered. He seemed very unsure of himself.
“And how would you know what’s good for me?”
He hung his head. “Taylor …”
The girls came back and I plastered a fake smile on my face for them. And although I directed my attention toward them, I could feel Easton staring at me. Why couldn’t he leave well enough alone? Why couldn’t be we be the kind of exes we had been for the last umpteen years? The kind that stayed uninvolved and out of each other’s way. I didn’t want his concern, help, or his touches. I didn’t want any reminders of the man I used to be in love with, the man I was still in love with. I hated him for not loving me, and for leaving me. Sure, I may have left the state, but only after he had checked out emotionally and physically.
Chapter Seven
I would have liked to say Friday night was our last dinner together for the weekend, or ever for that matter, but it was only the beginning of the “fun” I had waiting for me all weekend.
Saturday saw me shopping for Father’s Day dinner. Yep, you heard it right. Ashley and Emmy convinced me that I needed to help them make their father’s favorite dinner and dessert for the occasion. Apparently they were helpless. It was a meal I hadn’t made in ages. And it wasn’t because it was completely unhealthy, either. Easton grew up in Chicago and he loved Italian beef sandwiches. The couple of times we visited his brother there, I think he ate them for every meal. I figured out how to make them for him, and he had said he would love me forever for that one act. He lied. The lemon meringue pie was something his mother used to make. I never got the chance to meet her or his dad. They had died in a small airplane crash during Easton’s second year of college. He always used to talk about how much he missed them. He was lucky he’d had the ideal childhood growing up.
Regardless, I was still shopping, and might I add cooking and serving dinner at my house, for my cheating ex-husband. The only good thing to come out of it was that I got to be in the kitchen with my girl and my new girl. I loved making messes in the kitchen with Ashley, and I welcomed the sweet new edition, too.
With aprons on, we commenced making a homemade pie crust, lemon-filling, and meringue. I loved watching Emmy’s eyes as she beat the meringue and it became stiffer and stiffer. It’s amazing what egg whites, cream of tartar, and sugar can make. Emmy had never really baked before, so we made sure to teach her the fine art of licking the bowl, the spoon, and sampling. I also made sure to drive home the importance of cleaning up our messes. Ashley rolled her beautiful eyes at me. She had heard the speech a million times.
After our Father’s Day prep, Ashley took Emmy home. They were going to spend the rest of the day together with their dad.
I guess it was only right for me to share. I’d practically had them all week. I took the opportunity to hang up my new curtains. They were bold, horizontally striped cream and navy curtains, and they were the finishing touch to the quaint house I would call home for the next two long, grueling years.
As a reward for finishing up the house, I took a catnap on the couch in the living room. The room was graced with a large bay window that faced south. It let the glorious Colorado sunshine flood the space. I opened the window and let the breeze and sunshine flow in while I enjoyed an hour of peace before Ashley came home to get ready for her date with Raphe, the boy she had met at church the previous Sunday.
I helped curl her hair while she painted her toenails. We made a good team. She wore the red sundress she had picked out the day before. It went perfect with her dark hair and tanned skin. She looked way too grown up in my mind. I wasn’t sure I wanted to let her out the door. No one was ever going to be good enough for her.
During dinner, she was fidgety.
“Relax, darlin’. He’s only a boy after all.”
She grinned. “By the way,” she said offhandedly, “I invited dad over here to meet him before we leave.” She put her head down instantly and concentrated on her food.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Don’t you think you should have asked me first if that was acceptable?”
She sheepishly looked up. “You know what they say—sometimes it’s better to ask forgiveness.” She batted her lashes at me. “So, will you forgive me, Momma?”
I stared at her, dumbfounded.
“You know, I’m leaving for college soon and—”
“Nice try, young lady.”
“Come on, Momma, I’ve never had a dad before who could meet a boy at the door. Every girl needs a funny dad moment at the door.”
I remember wishing for the same things growing up—a real dad to meet my dates, make me feel special, and feel like his little girl. How could I deny Ashley the same opportunity now that it was available to her?
“What time will your dad be here?”
She smiled toothily. “In like fifteen minutes.” Without another word she hopped down from her stool and ran off to her room to finish getting ready.
With very mixed emotions, I surveyed the dinner mess and decided I should clean up before our company came over. Then I remembered that Easton would probably come in, smell the steak fajitas, and think, Perfect, Taylor can feed me again.
And no sooner had I thought it then it happened. He strode into my house looking way too good in his baseball pants and charmed himself into my kitchen. Why was I such a sucker for him? I blamed it on the cute nine-year-old he had in tow. She, I didn’t mind taking care of. But they had already eaten, so she wasn’t hungry. Easton on the other hand said, “I can’t resist your cooking, besides what you made is way better than what we had.”
As soon as Emmy scooted off to find Ashley, I glared at Easton. “Did you ask us to move back so you could use me for food and child care?”
He choked on his food and spluttered a bit. “Taylor! How could you think that?”
I looked at the fajita in his hand.
He looked down, too, and slowly placed it on his plate. His eyes came back up and looked directly into mine. “Will you please come and sit next to me?”
I walked over from the sink and pulled out the stool next to him a comfortable distance away. No sense in getting our pheromones into the mix. He apparently had no regard for my senses and scooted closer. He took my hands in his and held them firmly, like he was afraid I may move away, which was a good call on his part. I had missed his hands. I used to find comfort and strength in them. I looked down at our joined hands and they looked like they belonged together. His masculine hands matched my long, slender fingers well, but I tried not to think about it. I tried not to behave like a juvenile and pull away.
“Taylor,” he began, “the last several years have been difficult to say the least. I’ve made mistakes—life-changing mistakes. I’m trying to make things right with my daughters. And I get that it’s not fair of me to ask for your help, but I need it. I don’t need your food, although it’s been amazing.” He smiled at me. “But Emmy needs you, she needs all of us. And I need Ashley. And I think Ashley needs to see her parents get along with each other.”
“Maybe what you’re saying is all true, but like always, you expect me to give and give with no regard to how I feel.” I yanked my hands away, stood up, and glared down at his now frustrated expression. Why was I so angry? We had been divorced for ages. He didn’t say anything more, so I took that as my signal to finish cleaning up.
I heard him get up and leave as I began to rinse the dishes piled in the sink. I don’t know where he went, but as long as it was out of my presence, I didn’t really care at the moment. With every dish, I had to remind myself to breathe and not cry. I had shed more tears over that man than I cared to remember. He didn’t deserve any more.
I threw open the dishwasher harder than I should have. The door bounced a tad. I obviously had way too much stored up anger. It was anger that had been building for years. I needed a session of kickboxing, or a punching bag. For now, the poor dishwasher was getting it as I haphazardly threw in each dish I rinsed off. As I stewed and thought of all the things I wanted to say to him, I became careless. I reached into the sink without thinking about the very sharp knife I had used to cut the steak earlier. I caught the wrong end of it and sliced my palm. I bit my lip and grabbed on to the counter with my left hand trying to keep myself from crying out in pain. It didn’t help that the sink quickly filled with blood. I was afraid to lift my hand out and assess the damage, but the doorbell rang. The timing really stunk.
I pulled my hand out and grabbed a dishtowel—sure enough it had to be white. I couldn’t tell how bad I had been cut; the blood consumed my hand. I wrapped the wound and applied pressure as I made my way to the front door. Ashley was already en route, but Easton beat us all and opened the door. I tried to remain calm, like everything was normal, but the blood soaking towel told a different story.
Ashley caught a glimpse of the towel before she could even greet her date. “Oh my gosh, Momma! What’s wrong with your hand?”
All eyes became fixed on me.
“It’s nothing, love, I cut my hand when I was doing dishes. Don’t worry about me.”
Easton immediately came over and gently pulled up my hand that was now throbbing. Poor Emmy started to cry when she saw all the blood.
“It’s okay darlin’,” I tried to reassure her.
Ashley began to comfort her sister as her confused date looked on.
Easton carefully unwrapped the towel and hardly glanced at my sliced palm before he declared I was going to need stitches. Great, that’s just what I needed to hear. I was about ready to ask Ashley if she could postpone her date and drive me to the emergency room, but Easton beat me to the punch.
“Ashley you’re going to need to watch your sister while I take your mom over to my office and stitch up her hand.” He doled out instructions with this calm air of authority.
“No problem, Dad,” Ashley replied.
“I can go to the emergency room,” I protested. I didn’t need Easton taking care of my hand and I sure as heck didn’t need to be alone with him.
He didn’t listen to me. He turned back toward the girls. “Emmy, it’s all right honey. I’m going to take Taylor to my office and her hand will be as good as new.”
Poor little Emmy was looking pale.
Easton must have noticed, too. “Ashley, please take Emmy into the family room and bring me some more hand towels.”
In all the commotion, Raphe stood at the door looking like a deer in headlights.
“I’m sorry, Raphe. You can stay here with the girls if you would like, or you can come back later,” I offered.
He did as I suspected he would and chose option A.
Ashley returned in no time with the towels.
Easton t
ook them, gently wrapped my hand back up, and applied pressure. “Are you feeling okay?”
I nodded my head yes.
His eyes were full of concern, but I had a feeling it had more to do with the previous conversation than with my hand.
Easton turned his attention to Raphe. “Don’t do anything you or I will regret.”
Raphe’s eyes widened. “Yes sir.”
I had rarely seen Easton so serious. I was glad he could play the part of over-protective dad so well.
Ashley’s grin told me she liked it too. She kissed my cheek.
“I’m sorry for ruining your plans, love.”
She looked at Raphe and smiled. “We’ll do something fun here with Emmy.”
I loved my girl.
Easton held my hand on the way out to his truck. His very large truck that sat a little too high off the ground, at least in this instance. I wondered how I was going to gracefully get in with only my left hand, but I didn’t need to worry about it. What I needed to worry about was how my heart stopped when Easton, without any thought or warning, opened the door for me and picked me up.
“Um, I don’t think this is necessary.”
He ignored me and placed me carefully in the passenger seat. He took my left hand. “Hold your hand here and apply pressure.”
I did as he said. He shut the door and jogged around to his side. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths in and out. The pain wasn’t horrible, but my hand stung.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. You know, you can drop me off at the emergency room. You’re going to miss your game.”
“Do you really think that little of me?” His voice was dangerously low.
I opened my eyes and looked over to him. His knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel too hard and he had red-splotched skin. “Easton, I only meant I’m not your concern and I wouldn’t mind if—”
“What do you mean you’re not my concern?”
“You know what? Never mind.” I closed my eyes again and leaned my head back against the large leather seat.
Taylor Lynne: The Women of Merryton - Book Two Page 7