by Jade Kerrion
Alone.
Noelle swallowed hard through the pang in her chest.
As if sensing her pain, Connor’s grip around her shoulders tightened. “Will you come back to visit?”
She shrugged. It was easier than replying when she didn’t know the answer.
“Could we come out to visit you?”
Noelle pulled away from him to look into his eyes. “You’d come out to L.A.?”
“I realize neither of us is ready to uproot the lives we’ve built in different towns, but I’d like to keep seeing you. Perhaps we could try a long-distance relationship.”
“Even though it’s not what the children need?”
Connor frowned. “I’m not looking for a live-in babysitter. I fumbled through a year of single parenthood; I can make it on my own. Yeah, it’s not ideal; it’s far from perfect, but whatever relationship I enter into would be for me as much as for them. I’m willing to wait for the right person, because the best thing I can do for my children is to love their mother.”
Tears stung her eyes. How could someone who loved his children that much, who showed every promise of loving her that much, not be the right person?
He leaned in to touch his forehead against hers. “Will you stay the night?” he asked.
The quiet pain she heard in his voice resonated in her heart. Tangled in the pain was the promise of love. Noelle’s voice quivered in spite of her attempts to steady it. “Yes,” she murmured as his breath whispered against her lips.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The sun was a sliver in the sky when Noelle turned the key in the lock and entered her house like a teenager sneaking back after curfew.
“Hey, look, it’s the stranger.” Holly’s voice greeted her from the kitchen table.
Noelle laughed. “Is that coffee you have brewing?”
Holly nodded. “Grab a cup. Haven’t seen much of you in the past few days, not that Daddy and I are complaining.”
“Oh?”
“We figure Connor has a better chance of getting you to come home than either of us.”
Noelle huffed as she filled a cup of coffee and joined Holly at the table. Her fingers tapped a nervous rhythm against the wood. “He wants a long-distance relationship.”
“He wants a long-distance relationship, or he’s settling for a long-distance relationship?”
Noelle sighed. “I realize he can’t uproot his family and his business to move to L.A., but I don’t think he felt comfortable enough asking me to move back for him.”
“He’s not pushy that way.”
“Not nearly pushy enough, or you wouldn’t have been able to talk him out of taking me to the prom twelve years ago.”
Holly bit her lip and looked away.
“Why did you do that?”
Holly sighed. “I’m not sure exactly.”
“Don’t say you did it to protect me. We both know that there’s no one I would have been safer with than with Connor.”
“Millie loved him.”
“Millie had all of one date with him. Her claim on him was no stronger than mine.”
“You were thirteen.”
Noelle scowled. “So?”
Holly’s sigh was tremulous. The way she blinked quickly, repeatedly, screamed of guilt.
Noelle inhaled deeply. Holly had not acted out of spite, and the event was too far in the past to harbor any irrational anger over it. “Do you want to see the gift he’d brought over?”
“Sure.”
Noelle reached into her pocket and slid the rabbit-carved jewelry box across the table.
Holly turned the box over in her hands. “It’s beautiful. It’s the rabbit incident, right, the one in high school?”
“You remember it?”
“The high school nerd in an all out slug-it-out with the quarterback? Yeah, everyone remembers it. Best part was that fight was too close to call. I don’t think Josh ever lived it down. Everyone calls it the rabbit incident, but I think everyone realizes it was over you.”
“Except me, apparently. I thought it was over the rabbit.”
Holly laughed. “If not for you, Connor would have reported it to a teacher. He’s too level-headed to fight over a rabbit.”
Noelle drew a deep breath. “He wants more children.”
Her sister was silent for a beat. “Did you…?”
Noelle shook her head. “I didn’t know what to say.”
“You need to tell him.”
“I know.” Noelle’s breath shuddered. “I didn’t know how. I mean it’s not like he asked me directly. It came out in a peripheral sort of conversation. Heck, we’re not even in a relationship.”
“Aren’t you?”
Noelle pressed her lips together. “I did look up some apartments for rent in Havre de Grace. There’s a nice little place called On the Green, about two blocks from the pet store.”
“Yeah, I know it. You’re welcome to move back home, you know.”
“I know, but I think I’d like my own place, for starters.”
“You sign the lease yet?”
“No, but the building manager agreed to hold the place for me for a week. It’ll take me at least that long to sort out my business in L.A.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t tell Connor.”
Noelle shook her head. “I need to get away from him and do some real thinking on my own.”
“It’s the children thing, isn’t it?”
She huffed. It was impossible hiding anything from her sister. “Yeah, it is. I don’t want him to think I want his children just because I can’t have any of my own.”
“I’m pretty sure Connor’s not that shortsighted or shallow.”
“And I also don’t know how to tell him he’d be stuck with just two kids if he marries me, but I’d have to tell him before I make any final decision on moving back to Havre de Grace. Just in case.”
“In case he decides that the only thing he really wants from you is a working womb?”
Noelle rolled her eyes at her sister’s sarcasm. Her hesitation sounded ridiculous, but she had been badly burned once. “It’s partly why I’ve stayed away for so long. There’s no way to keep something like this a secret from the rest of the town indefinitely, and I’m not in the mood to be made to feel like less of a woman because I can’t have children.”
“Noelle!”
She shook her head. Tears stung her eyes.
Holly frowned. “Someone…” Her eyes narrowed. “Tell me who so I can rip his testicles out.”
“Someone out in L.A., actually.” Noelle sniffed. “It shouldn’t have meant anything.”
“But it did.”
She nodded. Her fingers traced the wood grain on the table. “He’d already bought the ring.”
“Oh, Noelle.” Holly’s voice ached with sympathy. “He was slime.”
“No, he wasn’t. He wanted the entire package, and I wasn’t the entire package.”
“What happened?”
“He’s married now. Has a son, and another kid on the way.”
Holly scowled.
“It’s a good thing he knew what he wanted. Better not to propose at all than to have to negotiate a divorce.”
Her sister rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe how rational you are about this whole situation.”
“Irrationality doesn’t get me anything.” Noelle sighed. “Connor’s such a wonderful father; he sounded pretty set on three or more kids. I can’t make any long-term plans until we sort this out, but I can work from anywhere, and moving back to Havre de Grace to give ‘long-term’ a chance…I think I can do that.”
“Fair enough.” Holly glanced at her watch. “I have to leave for school. You have a ride to the airport later today?”
Noelle nodded and pushed to her feet. “I should get packing. Would it be okay if I left some of my stuff here? It doesn’t make sense to cart it all back to L.A. only to turn around and bring it all back.”
“Absolutely.” Holly grinned. “It’s go
ing to be wonderful having you back. Oh, and can you make sure Dad takes his pills before he goes in to the pet store today?”
“Sure.”
After Holly left, Noelle went up to the bedroom that had been hers as a child. She had been away for eight years, but her house still felt like home amid the trappings of her childhood. Would Mommy move back too if I returned to Havre de Grace? Surely there had to be at least one nursing home in the little town. How would Daddy take it?
He would probably welcome it; their divorce notwithstanding, Daddy had never stopped loving Mommy.
Noelle showered and sorted through her clothes, deciding what to leave behind. Her bags were packed well in advance of her expected ride to the airport. Frowning, she tugged out her cell phone and glanced at the time, before stepping across the hallway on the second floor and tapping on the closed door of her father’s bedroom. “Daddy, it’s time to get up.”
She didn’t get a response.
“Daddy?” She knocked louder.
She pressed down on the handle and slowly pushed open the door. Her father was asleep on the bed, his legs tangled in the covers. “Daddy.” She walked up to him and shook him gently.
Noelle yanked her hand back. His shoulder was stiff, his body cold. “No…” She stumbled back. Her fingers fumbled on her smartphone. “Connor…” she gasped the moment he picked up the phone.
“Noelle?” His voice steadied her through the chilling, skittering panic.
“Daddy…” Her breaths came in sharp heaves. “I think he’s…I think he’s dead.”
“I’m on my way.”
The cold wall against her back blocked her retreat from the room. Her eyes wide, Noelle slid down to slump on the floor. She was still sitting on the floor when Connor strode into the room. He glanced at her but went straight to the bed and leaned over Alan Langford’s body.
Moments later, he turned around, his dark eyes pained and sorrowful. He crouched beside Noelle and drew her into his arms. Her shoulders shook, the trembling of her body braced against the strength of his body as she wept out her grief and guilt.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The heavy pressure of unshed tears pressing against her chest, Noelle knelt to place a single flower on top of the mound of dirt covering her father’s casket. The rain was icy, just short of freezing, and the skies were gray. Droplets of water ran down the sides of her black hood, and her shoes squished in the mud as she walked back to Holly’s car.
Her head felt heavy with thoughts—mostly unformed, all unfinished. The fog of grief was so thick—
Anger sliced right through it.
Connor stood at the entrance of the cemetery, carrying Hope in one arm. His other hand rested on Grace’s shoulder.
Where had he been when she’d needed him? Other than the first day when he’d stayed to coordinate with the EMTs who arrived to take her father’s body away, she had not seen him in days. He had called frequently, but the conversations were usually cut short by some pressing matter Noelle had to deal with—decisions and preparations for the wake and the funeral, a neighbor at the door, or a call from the lawyer’s office.
Where had he been, and why had he kept his children away? Didn’t he know that hugging Grace would have helped her? Didn’t he know that cuddling Hope would have consoled her?
Of course he did. His children had helped him survive the loss of Millie.
He simply hadn’t loved Noelle enough to share his children with her to help her survive her loss.
She stopped in front of him. “What are you doing here? The funeral ended an hour ago.”
“I’m sorry; it was the soonest I could get away.”
“People make time for things that matter.”
He inclined his head, accepting the rebuke in silence. His hand tightened on Grace’s shoulder.
The little girl looked up at Noelle. “I’m sorry about your father.” She said the words in a tune-like lilt that told Noelle it was practiced and recited under protest. Her lips clammed shut, and the glare she gave her father was mutinous. Even so, she huddled close to him, probably for protection from the rain.
Hope cooed and reached out to Noelle.
Noelle stared at the toddler, her heart shattering beneath the weight of guilt and regret. Connor was obviously neither as ready for a new relationship as he had seemed, nor wanted her as much as he had appeared.
Swallowing hard against the lump of tears in her throat, Noelle shouldered past Connor and his daughters. She drove away, the rain on the windscreen obscuring her view as much as the tears in her eyes.
~*~
“Why did she leave?” Grace asked, her voice filled with the bewildered pain of a rejected child.
Connor’s fist clenched. Because I couldn’t get away. Because I couldn’t juggle work and parenting well enough to be there for someone who means everything to me.
Noelle was right, of course. People made time for the things that mattered.
And he hadn’t.
Jason had been out all week, and the clinic filled to overflowing with patients suffering from a particularly nasty flu season. As for Grace—Connor frowned as he stared down at his daughter. Something was wrong. She was clingy and moody, fluctuating between the flush of anger and a quiet cocoon of deep depression. She was too young for Prozac, and probably too young to be suicidal, but he did not dare leave her alone. She had woken multiple times each night, screaming for him.
He had scarcely slept all week.
Phone calls to Noelle had been the best he could manage. A few days earlier, when he had a half-hour break for lunch, he had visited Noelle, but she had not been at home.
“Why did she leave?” Grace repeated.
Connor shook his head. “She’s angry with me.”
Grace’s eyes narrowed. Her lips pursed into a frown. “Why?”
“Because when her father died, Noelle probably needed me to be there for her. I wasn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I was busy. The clinic. The babysitters—”
“I hate the babysitter. I don’t want a babysitter.”
Connor pressed his fingers against his persistent headache. “I know.” Grace had been vehemently set against all the babysitters he had tried to bring in that week to free up an hour for him to see Noelle. The last thing Noelle needed on top of her grief was the chaos of rowdy children—especially Grace, who was so brutally frank, even tactless, on the topic of death—but in the end, the only way he had been able to see Noelle at all was to bring both Grace and Hope along.
And look how that worked out.
He gently turned Grace around to usher her back to the car.
“I like Noelle,” Grace said.
“I know.”
“I don’t like it when you’re busy.”
“Damn it, Grace. There are things I have to do. Whether or not you like it isn’t going to stop me from doing it, like working to provide a roof over your head, and putting a healthy dinner on the table, and insisting that you brush your teeth before bedtime.”
Her lower lip quivered. “I hate bedtime.”
He lost his tenuous grip on his temper. “And that’s the other thing about life. Sometimes, the things we hate are the things we need to do anyway, like eat dinner and sleep.”
“I hate—”
“That’s enough!”
The roar of his voice blasted a look of utter shock on Grace’s face. A moment later, tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.
Guilt speared through him. “Damn it.” He ground his teeth and strode away, leaving Grace to follow in her own time. He tucked Hope into her car seat and glanced over his shoulder; Grace was several feet away, dragging her feet. At that rate, it would be a half hour before she reached the car.
His anger simmering over, he walked back to her, grabbed her off her feet, and carried her, kicking and screaming, back to the car. He buckled her into her booster seat and shut the door. Grace’s flustered, tear-streaked face stared
up at him, breaking his heart. His hands curled into fists that he pressed against the cold, wet window. Damn it all to hell.
The surge of frustration, of pain, slammed his fist into the side of the car.
His curse and the sound of flesh smashing against steel rattled the car. Both Hope and Grace jerked, startled by the auditory slap of violence, and began crying. Connor stared down at his knuckles. Physical pain shot through his entire arm. His fingers were not broken, but they would be bruised black and blue by tomorrow.
Better me than them, he thought with grim satisfaction. His head was no clearer, his heart no less aching, when he got into the car and drove his broken family home for an unwanted dinner and bedtime.
~*~
Noelle pushed the scarcely tasted bowl of chicken soup aside. The freezer was once again overflowing with trays of lasagna and containers of soup. The kindness and generosity of the people of Havre de Grace was the sole balm against the screaming pain of losing her father.
“Do you want anything else?” Holly asked, standing up to clear the table.
Noelle shook her head.
“What about you, Mom?” Holly glanced at the white-haired woman who shared the table with them.
“No, thank you.”
Noelle’s cell phone rang. A flicker of hope and anticipation surged through her until she glanced at the number and realized it was not Connor. She accepted the call. “Hello, Rick.”
“Hi, Noelle. I got your message. It sounded urgent, or I might have waited until morning. Is everything all right?”
“I wanted to talk to you about listing Daddy’s pet store for sale.”
Rick Riordan, formerly of Havre de Grace, was a business broker who ran a successful business in Maryland and Washington, D.C., matching up sellers and buyers. He was silent for several moments. “Are you sure you want to make a decision so quickly?”
“Absolutely. I never wanted the pet store, but Daddy left it to me entirely. The sooner it’s sold, the faster we can all move on with our lives.”
“I do know several people who are interested in owning small-town businesses. The fact that it’s in Havre de Grace will be a huge selling point. Do you have the financial records—revenue, operating costs—for the past three years?”