Please Be My Valentine

by Jennifer Wenn

  “It’s not your fault…”

  He laughed tiredly. “No, I blame Kelly completely. That child was put on this earth to make my life a living hell and have me begging for more.”

  “She told me she lied about what you had said.”

  “She did? Well, that was well done of her. Now, if she only had kept her pretty little mouth closed from the beginning, it would have been so much nicer, but I guess I’ll have to be grateful for any bread crumbs she offers.”

  They shared a little smile, sprung from a joint experience with an unpredictable Kelly. His eyes turned warmer, and she felt her whole body respond to him. As if he could sense her slightly changed attitude, he leaned forward, grabbing her glove-clad hand in his.

  “Leonore, come back with me. Be my Valentine…”

  “I-I…” she stuttered, wanting nothing more than to shout, “Hell, yeah!” and throw herself into his waiting arms. But she was too afraid. Too scared of what he could do to her. How he could make her feel. Just hours ago, she had been hurt in a way no one ever had been able to hurt her, and she just didn’t know if she dared to open another little hole in her defenses.

  But what did she have to lose? Her heart? She had already lost it to him, in one single day. Did she really want to spend the rest of her life in miserable loneliness when she had this gorgeous man wanting her to be with him? He might only ask for her company for one night, but she knew that if she said yes, she did it for life.

  How hard could it be to shout, “Hell, yeah”?

  Just as she opened her mouth to answer him, a knock was heard on the window beside her, and when she turned around, she looked right into Paul’s mildly irritated face.

  Chapter Six

  “I must say it was quite rude of you to leave me waiting outside for such a long time. I must have waited for over an hour, for sure.”

  “Uh-hum,” Leonore answered, watching from the bay window of her living room as Ben’s truck disappeared down the road. Out of experience she knew Paul didn’t expect more response from her, not until he demanded it by a direct question. And then it mostly was up to her to agree with whatever opinion he had, or take his side in whatever matter he was discussing.

  She was never invited to have an opinion for herself. She was, after all, just a mere woman, and as such not really qualified to boast about having any sort of intelligence.

  “Who was that oddly dressed man?”

  Looking at Paul over her shoulder, her childish mind immediately wondered who was the oddly dressed man, Ben or Paul? Ben in his jeans and T-shirt with a warm parka, or Paul in his upper-class suit, with an old-fashioned tie stuck under his chin.

  “Benjamin Emerson, the man I told you about who looked after Granny when I lived in Boston.”

  “Ah,” Paul said with an overbearing smirk. “The farmer.”

  What an asshole, she thought, looking at her former fiancé. There he stood, unannounced, in her living room, insulting her absence and her friend. She hadn’t even known he was arriving. How on earth did he expect her to be there for him if he didn’t have the decency to at least call her first?

  But then again, this was Paul. Of course he didn’t expect her to have a life of her own. And to be completely truthful, if Ben hadn’t arrived at the library yesterday, whisking her away, she would have been at home, ready to eagerly greet Paul as he unexpectedly arrived on her doorstep.

  “I am starving. Are you going to serve me luncheon or not?”

  Dazed, she walked out into the kitchen, feeling both annoyed and angry with Paul, which was something completely new. She had never, ever had a temper with him. Not even when she had found herself moved out of their apartment into the hall outside. Quietly she had collected the stuff he’d generously shared with her, and she’d carried it all down to her car without a word of complaint.

  She had not faced Paul again after that, until he and his lawyer had tried to have her sign Granny’s house over to Paul. Not that she’d had any chance to make a scene then, either. Instead she’d stood there, just as quietly, listening to Paul’s lawyer explain to her why Paul’s immense suffering during their relationship could only be forgotten by her giving away the only thing she had left, other than those two bags of clothes.

  Thank God she’d had such a hard time contacting an estate agent to sell Granny’s house. If Paul had not been in such a rush to go to the Hamptons for a gathering at the dean’s weekend house, he might have succeeded with forcing her to sell it. But at that moment she had been too emotionally numb, too devastated to act, and in the end Paul left, after checking his wristwatch fifteen times a minute, calling her a selfish bitch over his shoulder.

  As she let her hand caress the wooden bench, she felt a wave of gratitude for still having the house in her life, as it was all she had. Or…thinking about it, she also had her job in the library. It wasn’t the most glamorous of jobs, and it contained no career ladders at all.

  But it was a job. And it was her job. And even though it meant feeling as if she were fighting windmills when trying to persuade Mrs. Colfax to do something as radical as moving the newspaper shelf an inch closer to the entrance, it was…her job.

  And then she had Ben, and a new beginning to the rest of her life.

  Thinking about it, she realized she had quite a full life. The house and job she was sure about; Ben not so much. But with a little work from her side, she would probably be able to call him hers in due time.

  “This is one very tiny house. I don’t understand how you can live here. This house is so small it is claustrophobic. And what is the thing with all these hearts everywhere? Your grandmother must have been one ridiculously silly woman.”

  “It’s Valentine’s Day today.”

  “I know. Lucky for you that I arrived, otherwise you would have sat here, all alone, staring at all these stupid hearts.”

  Looking up from the salad she was cutting, Leonore frowned at her former fiancé. She guessed she was one slow woman, but it had just dawned on her that Paul was there. In her house. In Barnesville. By himself.

  Why?

  What had brought this man, who in the most selfish way had ended their relationship and rendered her more or less broke, to come and visit her on Valentine’s Day? She knew he hadn’t come for her. Paul wasn’t that emotional. She had already served her purpose in his life by paying his way to his master’s degree.

  No, something was wrong, and whatever it was, she was sure it would make her day. She almost wished Ben were there to share the moment with her, but he didn’t know the backstory yet, so he wouldn’t understand.

  Paul ate the salad as he ate everything, with utter disdain. His back was straight, and he held his elbows close to the sides of his torso, so his hands landed perfectly at each side of his plate. Carefully he cut small, small pieces of everything, which he then gathered on his fork and placed into his mouth. With small, almost nibbling movements of his teeth, he chewed his way through the meal, reminding her of a squirrel chewing nuts.

  How could she ever have fancied herself in love with this man?

  “This salad is too salty. Next time, please don’t add any salt when you season the chicken; it will hurt my kidneys.”

  Raising her brows, Leonore leaned back in her chair. “Next time? Are you planning on coming by again anytime soon?”

  Pursing his mouth with satisfaction, Paul placed the knife and fork beside the plate, wiping his now smirking—no, smiling—mouth. “Well, as you have opened the subject…I have decided that ending our relationship was a bad thing, and I am letting you come back into my life.”

  What?

  Ignoring her astonishment, he continued, while meticulously folding his napkin. “I have come to realize that I have missed certain parts of our life together since we parted. You might not be the most attractive of women, but I have come to understand that homeliness is not always a bad thing. An unattractive woman will not flirt with other men; instead she will gratefully take care of the man in he
r life.”

  “But, Paul—”

  Holding up his hand, he interrupted her most effectively. Too used to becoming silent when told to, she immediately cut herself off.

  “It hurts me, deeply, that I have to let you back into my life again,” he continued his lecture. “I thought I was ready to go to the next stage in life, but apparently I wasn’t, and therefore I have to take you back. Because of you I have lost both the apartment and my job. If you hadn’t been working twenty-four-seven, you would have had time to explain to me how much my lifestyle costs per month, because with you gone I found myself suddenly lacking funds.”

  “You lost all the money?” Leonore was aghast. And a bit amused. And, oh, so maliciously delighted over his fall from grace. “But what about all your friends, all your high connections? They must have rushed to your side to aid you, didn’t they?”

  “Some friends they are.” Paul snorted, against character. “As soon as they learned I had not spent enough time at my job to make enough profit for me to keep my employment, and that the apartment had been repossessed by the bank, they all turned their backs to me. To me! They have even blocked my phone number. I am so upset over this slight. When you have me back on my feet again, I will go after them and make them pay. No one turns their backs on me.”

  What?

  Leonore couldn’t help but feel a bit faint. “Paul, I don’t understand. What does your situation have to do with me? You ended our relationship, remember, and therefore I am no longer a part of your life.”

  “Leonore, my dear, stupid woman.” Paul sighed, his face filled with another overbearing smile. “I am of course letting you come back into our relationship. You, even though lacking any academic background, managed to give me a satisfying life before, so I think you can do it again. We will start with selling this house, and anything else we can get money for, like your car. Then I’ll decide what town we will move to, now that so many Bostonians have defriended me. I am thinking of New York or Washington, of course. No other town is to be considered. They are all wannabes.”

  With a small shudder at the mere thought of moving somewhere else, like Miami or, heaven forbid, Los Angeles, he leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other, clearly waiting for her to respond to his madness. Because that was exactly what it was. Madness.

  What had happened to the young man she’d first met and fallen in love with? The funny, ambitious young man, who had his sights set for them to have a good life together? Somewhere in time he had let go of the “we” and continued with me-myself-and-I without informing her about it.

  It wasn’t all his bad, though. If she hadn’t been so stupid and nearsighted, she might have realized what was going on and stopped it in time, forced him to make a choice from the beginning, his career or theirs. But she hadn’t. Instead she had blindfolded herself until the real Leonore was gone, and all that was left was a shell of the woman she had been.

  She felt her nostrils flare as she took a deep breath, forcing her spine back in place. Paul’s fingers tapped the table impatiently, and his rudeness effectively removed her last awkwardness toward him.

  The answer to the question roaming through her mind was adamant. Did she want him? No. Not for a billion dollars.

  “Paul…I have a new life now, here in Barnesville.”

  “This is not a life, Leonore. This is you settling for the worst. You can have it all, like you once had. Why give that up for…this?”

  “It’s my home.”

  “It’s just a house, a means to an end.”

  “Paul…” Leonore sighed, frustrated. “I will not sell this house.”

  “Of course you will. You will sell it for us and for our future.” With an arched eyebrow, he gave her a smirk which she thought was meant to be lovingly assuring. “You will sell it for our children.”

  A big, warm ball suddenly appeared in her belly. A huge, needy ball for something she hadn’t considered for a long time.

  A child of her own…

  Paul must have sensed her emotional response, as he leaned forward and patted her hand lightly. “Wouldn’t you want our children to have the best life? Don’t you want to give our children the means to have the lives they deserve? To grow up in the right neighborhood, go to the right school, and rub elbows with the right friends?”

  “I-I…” Lenore didn’t know how to continue. This sudden change in Paul, to want to start the family she’d once mentioned in the beginning of their relationship but which he had decided would be too much of a bother, was unsettling. It made her warm up to him again, even against her better judgment.

  To have a child would mean everything to her. Someone to love unlimitedly, who loved her back as unselfishly as only children could. She tried to see a picture of her and Paul with a couple of dirty, happy children, but she couldn’t. Instead she saw the old, sad version of herself in a perfect dress, with her hair in a perfect bun, standing solemnly beside a haughty Paul, while their children lived at boarding schools, rubbing their elbows with the right old-money friends.

  Was that life worth giving herself up for again?

  From out of nowhere, a picture of her and Ben popped into her mind’s eye, and she couldn’t stop a small smile. Heavy with child, she held on to their youngest, who wanted to rush back into the puddle from where she had just saved him, while Ben laughingly chased the older ones, trying get hold of them so they could all stand together for the three seconds it took for the photographer to immortalize them.

  She would sell the house for that. Any day. Any life.

  She stood and went to the door leading out into the small foyer. “I think it is time for you to leave,” she said matter-of-factly, catching Paul off guard.

  “W-what?” he stuttered, surprised.

  “I want you to leave.”

  Hesitatingly, he stood up slowly, a small, nervous chuckle leaving him. “Leonore, this is not funny. You know I don’t appreciate inappropriate jokes.”

  “It’s not a joke. I want you to leave. Now.”

  “Are you out of your mind? Don’t you realize you are throwing away my future?”

  She wanted to laugh out loud, he was so hilariously childish and selfish, but she didn’t. This was Granny’s house, and if there was one thing the older lady always had found unnecessary, it was rudeness, no matter how well deserved.

  “Perhaps it is time for you to take care of your own future instead of waiting for others to do it for you. You are a good, intelligent man, Paul, and you can do things for yourself.”

  He didn’t look intelligent, though. With his mouth wide open, he stared at her in horror, as if she were a body taken over by an evil alien.

  “You…you…you…” he stuttered, sounding as if he were drowning in shock. “You can’t leave me like this. How am I supposed to manage now? Without you, I’m nothing. Nothing!”

  Well, color me happy, Leonore thought, astonished. There it finally came—the truth. And this time she acknowledged it. Because it was the truth. Paul was nothing without her. It was she who had made it all happen, every last degree he’d had hanging on his office wall. It had all been her doing. She had worked him through it all, lectured him, helped him, cross-examined him, and made him pass class after class.

  Without her, it had taken him just a couple of months to lose it all. His job. His home. His dignity.

  “Well, don’t you come begging to me when I’m at the top,” he snarled while collecting his outerwear. “Stay here in Nowhere, Connecticut, and you will soon find yourself withering without me. You are dust without me.”

  “I was dust with you,” she said slowly, more to herself than to him. “You made me feel worthless, and look at you now, admitting that it was me who had all the worth between the two of us. Why would I ever want to go back to that and become nothing again?”

  He didn’t say anything. He simply froze in front of her, as her words wedged their way into his mind. An embarrassing red shade climbed up from his throat, discolor
ing his face as he dragged his cloak closer to his chin and walked out through the door. And, finally, out of her life.

  Chapter Seven

  “I need your help.”

  Candice Lee looked up from the diner menu she had been cleaning, a surprised smile on her lips, which were painted in the same lush shade as her wavy mahogany hair exhibited. “Well, Hell must have frozen over in the storm, because my disbelieving eyes tell me it is the formidable Leonore Brody, who can ‘manage quite fine by herself, thank you,’ standing in front of me.”

  Leonore had been prepared to apologize for the harsh way she had snubbed Candy when she’d first returned to Barnesville and the waitress had reached out, offering her help. The numb and devastated Leonore had not been ready to open up to anyone and had declined the friendliness with an icy “no thanks,” discarding the other woman’s attempt quite rudely.

  Now, as she met Candy’s narrowed eyes, she knew merely apologizing might be too little. She would probably need to crawl a bit, too, going down into the dirt, to get the help needed.

  But Candy surprised her with an easy laugh and a whack on Leonore’s shoulder. “Well, I am glad to see you. Have you settled in all right, honey? Must be a bit weird living in Mrs. Brody’s old house without her in it. I know you grew up there, but all the same… Coffee?”

  Slightly dizzy from Candy’s quick acceptance, Leonore nodded and sat down on one of the high chairs at the counter, watching Candy pour her a cup. Rosa’s Diner was filled to capacity, not one booth unoccupied.

  “Everyone has been in here today, sharing their stories of yesterday’s storm. Rosa was planning to close the diner today, too, but people kept knocking on the door, so in the end she gave up and opened for business. Lucky for me I hadn’t had time to make other plans yet; otherwise she and Burt would have had to manage it all by themselves.”