by Lynn Collins
It was the longest shot of his life, but he had to try.
He found the number in his cell. Pushing buttons, he walked to the truck as he waited. “Hey, I need a favor. A few, actually.”
Lizzie had just finished sliding a pan of apple cinnamon muffins into the oven when she heard a knock on the front door. Glancing at the clock she realized it was too soon for the mail. At least it wouldn’t be another certified letter explaining the check had been a mistake and James wanted the money back. Not that she had much of it left after the shopping trip with Serena yesterday. Today she needed to finish getting the cabins ready for the first call for rental. A call she hoped would come sooner than later.
Throwing the dish towel over her shoulder, she went to answer the door. JR beat her to it.
“I’ll get it.”
Lizzie followed, surprised to see Martha when JR swung the door open.
He slipped outside and hugged the tall, gray haired woman. “Gramma Martha! Did you come to get me for the day?”
A pang of pain crossed Lizzie’s mind; this was not the first time she’d missed her mother lately. JR had lots of grandmothers now, but she didn’t have one mom. She pushed away bittersweet sentiment and smiled at her soon to be stepmother. “JR, let the woman breathe. Martha, come on in. I’ve got fresh coffee and muffins in the oven.”
“Mmmm, I can smell them baking. Something with cinnamon?” Martha put her hand on JR’s head and followed him into the cabin.
“Apple cinnamon. I’m trying out some recipes in hopes we get some cabin rentals soon.” Lizzie led the way into the kitchen. “JR, why don’t you get your blocks and build something to show Martha while she and I talk in the kitchen?”
A frown crossed JR’s face. “Do you like boats? I’m making a boat.”
“I love boats.” Martha patted him on the head and mouthed ‘thank you’ at Lizzie.
When Lizzie had poured them both coffee and offered Martha cream and sugar, which she declined, the two women faced each other across the table.
“You’re probably wondering why I’m here,” Martha started.
Lizzie smiled. “You’re marrying my father, Martha, I expect to see you a lot.”
Martha’s body sagged in relief. Whatever she’d thought Lizzie’s reaction was going to be, apparently accepting hadn’t been one of the choices.
“I want you to know your father and I have been very respectful of your mother’s memory. I mean until the wedding we aren’t sharing a bed. He’s staying in my guest room for now.” Martha sipped her coffee.
Lizzie choked on hers. “You don’t have to explain. Really.” The thought of her dad and Martha doing it had never crossed her mind. Now she couldn’t get the image out. Changing the subject as quickly as she could, she said, “I’m happy you’re joining our family. When are you tying the knot?”
“We want to go to Vegas next month. I’ve already arranged for someone to take care of the fish.” Martha was passionate about her fish. She’d been running a tilapia farm on her property for years. Lizzie’s dad had been talking about the advantages of fish farming for the last year.
I should have seen this coming then.
“Get me a date and I’ll figure out a way to be there. Maybe JR, too.” Lizzie smiled at her. Pleasantly plump, even Martha’s body type was totally different from her mom’s rail thin body. Also, Martha wore her hair long, usually pulled back into a ponytail, with wisps of gray showing through the natural brown. Her mother had never missed a salon appointment, religiously scheduling them six weeks apart to keep her blonde hair from showing signs of the passing years. Martha and her mother were polar opposites and yet, Lizzie knew, Martha was the type of person her dad needed.
“Your dad and I will pay for the flight and the room. All you’ll need is a dress and gambling money.” Martha grinned. “We’ll even babysit when you want to go down to the casino floor. Maybe you’ll get lucky?”
Luck. She needed luck. But not the type Martha talked about. Lizzie pulled out her planning calendar and the two women marked off the days for the wedding. As they discussed dress options, Lizzie’s phone rang. Excitement growing, she listened to the caller then she turned her planner open again.
“Let me check what’s available. You want all five cabins for this weekend and next?” Lizzie marked off availability for the cabins as she grinned at Martha. “That will work. Can I get the number in your party so I can plan breakfasts?” She frowned as she listened. “You don’t want any food or supplies? You realize I can’t change the rental rate even though you’re not requesting meals?” Again, she focused on the caller, shrugging when Martha giving her a thumbs up to celebrate her first new rental.
After she’d finished getting a credit card to reserve the reservation and explained her cancellation policy, she hung up the phone and grinned at Martha.
“I’ve got bookings for two weeks that, without my having to provide food, should pay for the upgrades I made to the cabins and leave JR and I enough in the bank to live without help for a month or two.” She tapped her pen on the calendar. “I guess I am getting lucky after all.”
Martha’s face lit up. “I’m happy for you. Your dad has been worried about leaving you before things took off.”
“Tell him he can quit worrying.”
Martha stood and rinsed her cup. “I’ve got to go. We’re planning on setting up a second farm.”
Lizzie bit her tongue. The farm her father had talked about. And she’d worried about him drinking too much or getting senile. Maybe she was the one who’d been distracted the last few months, not him.
When Martha drove off after ten hugs from JR, Lizzie went back the kitchen table and wrote down a list of tasks to complete before the arrival of her first guests. Then setting that list aside, she pulled out a new notebook. On each of the first three pages she wrote Goal Number One, then Two then Three in big block letters. This was a planning tool she’d read about in one of her women’s magazines. Set three goals, and do something toward each goal every day for one hundred days. Then evaluate the results and set three more. But what were her first three goals? Lizzie thought for a minute then wrote.
Goal Number One: become financially self-sufficient. She’d taken the classes in finance and life planning when they were offered in the small town’s community center. She was luckier than most. She had resources. She had the cabins. They were booked already for two weeks and she hadn’t even updated the website.
The next goal was harder because it was emotional. But she might as well deal with it now than later. Goal Number Two: learn how to co-parent with James without wanting to rip off his head or his clothes. If she could manage this one, he’d get this silly idea about taking custody of JR away from her out of his head. He couldn’t even deal with a week of JR by himself. Panic seeped into her bones.
Calm down. Just handle what you can today.
She glanced at the letter from the lawyer and picked up the phone. She made arrangements with the clinic to take JR in for the requested DNA testing tomorrow. That way Friday all she’d have to do was worry about her customers.
She left the strategy part of her “co-parenting with James” goal page blank. She’d have to come back to fill it out when she had a clue about how to make this goal a reality.
The third goal was easy. All she had to do was open the urn where she’d hidden her dreams so long ago. Goal Number Three: make plans and apply to go back to school in the fall. She listed five strategies for making that happen. Apply for financial aid. Ask Martha and Dad to watch JR while she had class. What with JR going to school full days, she’d have her weekdays free for online classes, study, and keeping the cabins up for renters. She opened her laptop, found the desired website, and requested the necessary material be mailed to her.
Glancing at the clock, she realized it was almost lunchtime. One more page in her notebook and she’d be set for the day. On the fourth page, she wrote Day One. Below the title, she listed all the things she’
d already done toward her goals and the things she wanted to do tomorrow.
One hundred days. By the time she started a new notebook, she and JR could both be in school, JR would have a relationship with his dad, and she’d be renting out cabins to hunters who wanted a place to relax and drink a few beers after a long day in the woods. These goals were reachable. She could do this. All she needed was hard work, and a little luck.
With a smile, she put a pot of water on for JR’s favorite macaroni and cheese and started chopping vegetables for a salad. It felt good to be moving forward after five years of standing still.
It felt good to take the direction of her life into her own hands. No judge would be able to look at her and deny her custody. She’d create a future for herself that didn’t rely on James or any man.
13
“When’s Daddy coming home?” JR asked. Twenty minutes into the two-hour ride to the clinic and he’d gotten bored. Things hadn’t changed now that their destination was close at hand.
“I’m not sure, honey.” Lizzie glanced at him in the rear-view mirror. “We haven’t worked out all the details. Your dad has a busy job. I’m sure he’ll try to come visit as soon as he can.”
“But what if he comes and we’re gone?” JR’s lips quivered. “Why do we have to go to town today?”
“He’s not coming today. Your Uncle Jesse has a rodeo in South Dakota this weekend. We talked about this.” Lizzie sighed. JR didn’t understand why James had left without saying goodbye. And Lizzie couldn’t explain what she wasn’t sure she understood herself. How do you tell a kid his dad was afraid of commitment? They had been better off without James knowing. All last weekend did was reopen old hurts for all three of them.
“I want to see my daddy.” JR looked out the window again. He was done talking.
Not for the first time Lizzie realized how much JR resembled his father. The way he set his mouth when he was mad. His way of ending conversations. Lizzie focused on the road, a small grin on her face. His father’s son.
The clinic appeared and she pulled in and parked. Inside, the lab tech was ready for them.
“I don’t want a shot,” JR declared when he’d been boosted onto the examination table. He folded his arms in front of his chest and kicked his feet.
“You’re not getting a shot. It’s kind of like when the dentist counted your teeth. Remember that?” Lizzie rubbed his back.
“You said we were getting ice cream.” He frowned at her with an accusing glance.
“We’ll get ice cream next. All they are going to do is put a stick in your mouth and then it’s done.” Lizzie sat down behind JR. “And I’ll go first.”
“You’re getting tested too?” JR leaned against her.
Lizzie felt him relaxing now that the threat of a shot was over. “Yep. I get the test, and then I’m getting a double decker chocolate and vanilla cone. What do you want?”
JR thought a moment. “I think strawberry. But they might have a new flavor. Will you read me all the flavors?”
Lizzie smiled. Getting ice cream was never a quick process with JR. Lizzie wanted vanilla or chocolate. JR wanted to know all his choices before he made a decision. He’d listen to the list, then ask her to repeat three or four of the flavors then he chose something else entirely.
“Of course.” Lizzie thought maybe she should say something about why they were getting tested. Before she could think of a way to say his dad wanted proof JR was his son without causing pain, the technician came into the room. Lizzie prayed the guy would keep his mouth shut.
She didn’t have to worry. The technician checked her driver’s license to verify her name against the testing order.
“And what’s your name?” The question seemed conversational, but Lizzie knew it too was part of the verification process.
“JR. JR Hudson.” JR sat up straight, bracing himself for the test.
“And can you tell me how old you are, JR?”
“Five. Almost six.”
The tech grinned. “You look six.” He patted JR on the leg then went to the cabinet to get the testing kit. “Who’s first?”
In less than five minutes, they were done and, in the car, heading to the strip mall down the road and the closest ice cream shop. Their testing samples would be matched up with James’s and sent off to a lab. Proof they were a family—or at the very least that JR was related to both of them. Proof that only James seemed to need.
Pulling into the drive later in the evening, Lizzie felt energized. She and JR had walked around the Boise campus and taken a tour of the library. Even though she’d attend class online, it had felt good to see what she would be part of. Now with a catalog of available programs and a schedule for fall classes stuffed in her oversized purse, Lizzie was anxious to sit down and start planning.
“Do you have to read all those books?” JR’s question surprised her. She’d thought he’d been asleep.
“In the library? No, honey. I’ll have to read a few though. It depends on the classes I take.” Lizzie walked around and opened his car door. “Let’s have tomato soup for dinner.”
“Okay.” JR stopped in his tracks as a thought occurred to him. “You’ll still have time to read to me though, right?”
Lizzie leaned down and gave JR a big hug. “Of course, we’ll read together. There are a lot of stories still out there. You’ll have homework though, too. We can study together. The two amigos.”
“Maybe when Daddy comes back, we can be the three musketeers and have sword fights.” JR took off for the porch. “Hey, there’s a package.”
Lizzie frowned. She wasn’t expecting anything. She unlocked the door and picked up the box. It felt light. Walking into the kitchen, she grabbed a can of soup. Mixing the contents with milk, she set the pan on the stove to heat. She got out two bowls and the last of the bread she’d baked last week. Tomorrow would be busy. Between putting the last touches on the cabins for the rentals and welcoming her guests, she’d have to figure out where to fit in baking and laundry.
She grabbed a knife and slit open the box. She gasped. A dress packed in tissue paper lay inside. Holding it gently with both hands, she pulled it out of the box. White, with satin and lace, a handkerchief hem and a sweetheart neckline. Not an everyday sundress. She glanced into the empty box. No note. No card.
The mailing label showed the package had been shipped from Cooper’s Country Store. Lizzie searched her memory trying to figure out why the store name was familiar. Was that the sponsor James had introduced her to on Saturday?
Barb had to have sent the dress. She’d been appalled when Lizzie said she didn’t have a dress in her closet. Now she’d have two, Barb’s loaner sundress and this one for church.
The dress was beautiful. She glanced at the clock then dialed Barb’s number, but only got voice mail. “Call me,” she told the machine. She wouldn’t leave an impersonal thank you message on a machine. She hung the dress up in the laundry room and put the box away. Talking to Barb would be a welcome addition to tomorrows to do list.
Right now, however, it was dinnertime, followed by bath and bed for JR. She glanced out the kitchen window where the power washed cabins gleamed in the moonlight. James had saved her weeks of work.
Her thoughts went back to the weekend and the ease with which they’d worked together. Having him home, no matter how briefly, had made things feel like he’d never left. Now he planned on taking JR away from her? Hell would freeze over first.
She shook her head. No use looking back. Her life was ahead of her. Not tied up in the past with James.
“JR, dinner.” She poured the soup into the two bowls, setting them on the table. Real life. Not the fantasy family life she’d let herself imagine last weekend. And real life wasn’t that bad. After JR was tucked in bed, she’d start imagining her future through the pages of the university catalogue.
Images of James clouded her mind. Getting up to make one more cup of tea, she sighed. James had left again. And there was no way sh
e would be his stopover when he made it back into town. Commitment. That’s what she needed.
Cash wanted to commit to you.
Filling up the teakettle, she realized she needed one other thing besides commitment: love. A life with Cash would have been fine, but she wanted more than fine. She turned on the stove and went back to scanning the books. Lizzie Hudson would never settle again.
14
Friday morning, Lizzie checked the list she’d made the previous night when she’d been unable to sleep. The windows in the each of the cabins were open, letting in the sweet mountain air. She had walked through each one, spot-checking to make sure the hot water from the natural springs flowed freely into the Jacuzzi tubs, the resort’s trademark.
Years ago, they’d had bathtubs out on the deck where the guests could lounge in the mineral water and watch the river flow by the mountain. Then her mother had insisted on upgrading the cabins, moving the bathtubs off the decks, moving the hot springs experience into the remodeled bath. A room that included a skylight placed over the tub allowed the soaker to watch the moon and stars. It was nice, but Lizzie had always preferred the bathtubs on the deck overlooking the river. Maybe she could bring them back.
Eventually.
In the kitchen, blueberry muffins baked in the oven and she’d already finished two loaves of wheat bread to go with their dinners this week. Laundry was started. She slipped into a chair, taking a few minutes to study the college course catalogue again. She’d decided an accounting degree would be more practical than the journalism degree she’d wanted years ago. Besides, she was already writing copy for her Hudson’s Hot Springs website, the flyers and brochures that she planned to put in the main lobby. That would bring the world to her instead of her having to go out to it and she’d discovered she relished the idea.