by Donna Alward
Laurel chuckled. She’d heard her mom use that saying before. “Ha, ha.”
“I brought leftovers. Have something to eat. Tell me what’s going on.”
She didn’t want to, but she also knew that if she didn’t, her mom would fuss and worry and start hovering. Besides, maybe she needed an objective ear. Moms always took their kids’ sides, right? But she’d kept her family deliberately distanced from the situation. Maybe her mom might have a clearer perspective.
“Let me wash up, then. Come on inside.”
She dumped the thinned carrots in the compost bin on the way by and took off her shoes at the door. She washed her hands, but no matter how hard she tried, she never quite managed to get all the dirt from beneath her fingernails. Giving up, she turned off the tap and dried her hands. By the time she made it to the kitchen, the microwave was running and there was a glass of iced water on the table along with a knife and fork.
“What was for dinner tonight?” she asked, reaching for the water.
“Stuffed pork chops and twice-baked potatoes.”
“Damn.” She smiled. Two of her favorite dishes and she’d missed out. “Did you make the green beans, too?” Whenever her mom made the pork chops, she did green beans with little bits of bacon and red pepper. Delicious.
“Of course.” The microwave beeped and Laurel went to get her plate. “Thanks, Mom. I really am sorry I forgot.”
“You’re a big girl. I’m a mom. I live for family dinners, but maybe I shouldn’t expect it all the time. You have your own life to live.” She sat down across from Laurel. “I just like having you back in town again.”
Laurel scooped up a bit of potato. “This is so good.”
“Do you like being back home, sweetie? Really? Be honest.”
It said something that Laurel had to stop and think about it. “Yeah, I do,” she admitted. “I was good at accounting, but I love running the garden center. It’s fun. It’s long hours but it’s fun. My staff is awesome. It’s more than numbers in columns. It’s beauty, and smiles on people’s faces, and nice smells. It’s hard to be gloomy around flowers and fresh air.”
“I’m glad. It suits you in a way that office never did.”
Laurel paused cutting into her chop. “You never said.”
“You’re an adult, making your own decisions. If that was what you wanted … besides, what would you have said if I’d voiced my opinion?”
Laurel popped the morsel into her mouth. “I would have denied it,” she admitted, then continued chewing and swallowing.
“Right. Now, about Dan…”
The food turned a little tasteless at the change in conversation.
“Dan’s off living his life. Good for him.” The last thing she expected was for her mom to chuckle. “What’s so funny?”
“You sound annoyed. It’s about time.” When Laurel merely stared, she continued. “You were so understanding when Dan came out, and that’s to your credit. He’s not a bad guy. And I know it had to be horribly hard for him. But I can’t help feeling that he’s taken advantage of your good nature. Maybe I was just angry on your behalf, but when it was all about Dan I kept thinking, ‘What about Laurel?’ What about what you wanted? Are you ready to fight for that now?”
“Not you, too,” Laurel grumbled, and she cut through the potato skin rather savagely.
“Oh?” Her mom’s eyebrows went up. “Who else has been sharing the same wisdom?”
Laurel didn’t answer, just huffed out a frustrated breath and continued eating to avoid answering.
“Let me guess. Aiden Gallagher.”
Laurel looked up. That was all.
“Oh, I’m glad. I always liked Aiden. I heard you guys were seeing each other. Though I kind of hoped you’d be the one to tell me.”
“We’re not anymore, so don’t get too excited.”
“How come?”
“Because he wants me to deal with my unresolved issues.” She put every ounce of sarcasm she could muster into those last two words.
“And are you? Or are you just torturing tiny carrots, hoping it’ll go away?”
Damn.
She put down her knife and fork; her appetite was diminishing anyway. “It’s not the best strategy, is it?”
Her question was met with a shake of a head.
“Oh, Mom. I’m such an idiot. All my life I’ve hated hurting another person, especially deliberately. I’ve always kind of regretted the day I poured the milkshake over Aiden’s head. Even though he deserved it. It just wasn’t like me to do something like that.”
Her mom laughed. “It’s a good thing it was out of character. I had to convince the principal not to suspend you.”
“He lied to me, mom. Aiden lied. And it hurt. Then I got married and my husband lied to me, too. Does everyone lie? Or is it just me?”
“Sweetie, Aiden was a kid who buckled to peer pressure. And Dan … I can’t imagine what it was like for him. It doesn’t excuse them, not by a long shot. But it’s not you. I promise.”
“Are you sure? Because sometimes I think I wear a sign on my back that says ‘bleeding heart’ on it. I didn’t want to make things worse for Dan so I bottled it all up. I don’t want to be that person who is bitter and craps all over their ex, but I’m … I’m…”
“Angry?”
“Yes.”
“Disillusioned?”
“Maybe some of that, too. I wanted babies, Mom.” She came right out and said it, and it was a huge relief. She’d wanted a family so much. “We’d talked about it but the time was never right for Dan. He wanted us to have a few years working. A chance to pay off all our student debt. Then I thought we were good and it was the down payment on the house. Waiting, waiting. For the perfect moment, he said. So when he said we had to talk, I was so excited. I was ready to flush my birth control down the toilet and I started planning a nursery in my head.”
She looked up. Her mom had big tears in her eyes. “See? Now you’re crying. I didn’t want for any of this to happen.”
“Tears are a part of life, Laurel. Go on. Get it out.”
“He told me the truth and I was just … numb. It wasn’t babies. It was divorce, and his coming out, and that he’d been having an affair.… It all just jumbled together and turned into one big mushroom cloud of … broken dreams. Oh hell, what a cliché.”
“You feel cheated. And not only from the affair, but…”
“But from the life I wanted and thought I was going to have.”
Silence fell over the kitchen. Laurel knew her mom was being wise by staying quiet, because pieces started to fall into place. “He stole my dreams. My future.”
“And you’re mad because now he’s living it and you’re not.”
“And I hate myself for it,” she admitted. “Because it’s not nice. And I’m always nice, you see?”
Her mother got up from the table and returned with a plastic dish. Inside was a helping of brownie pudding. The chocolate sauce was still warm. “You could use this.”
Laurel laughed. “Thank you, Mom. For letting me vent.”
“Did you say these things to Aiden?”
She shook her head and reached for the spoon. “Not all of it. I was too mad at him for seeing things a little too clearly. I pushed him away because he stood up for me when I was too weak to stand up for myself. I should have thanked him. And now…” She felt her cheeks heat. “Now I have too much pride to admit I was wrong.”
“Now that sounds like the Laurel I know. For a while I thought that sweet side was outweighing the stubborn independence I admire. And Aiden Gallagher is a nice guy, no question, but he needs someone to keep him on his toes.”
“Mom!”
“All men do.” They shared a wicked smile. “So what are you going to do now?”
“Eat brownie pudding. Wallow.”
“And then?”
She thought about it. What did she want to do? Take control of her life back? How?
“I don’t know where to start.”
“And get let down again?”
“Maybe. But maybe not. I’d hate to see you become a bitter old maid, dear. And being a coward isn’t the same as revenge. The best revenge is living well.”
“I don’t want revenge!” The whole idea left a bad taste in her mouth. “Revenge isn’t my style. Not since…”
Not since Aiden had taken that milkshake cup and thrown it across the cafeteria. She knew now that what she’d wanted was for him to talk back. To argue. To commit some grand gesture in some seventeen-year-old, impossibly dramatic sort of way. In some small way she’d wanted him to prove her wrong. But he hadn’t. He’d been furious and he’d left her standing there, feeling like an ass. That victory had been horribly hollow and all this time her pride had been telling her it was justified while her head and heart told her it was just … stupid.
“I don’t want revenge. I just want to be happy.”
“Then be happy. Stop letting what happened control your decisions. I’m not saying you need to run back to Aiden and leap into a serious relationship if you’re not ready. But find a way to make a first step toward what you want.”
It was damned good advice. She looked over at her mom and felt a wave of love. “I don’t think I’ve ever given you enough credit,” she whispered. “I love you, Mom.”
“I try to be there when it counts. You’ve always done such a good job of standing on your own two feet. This time I just thought you needed a little nudge.”
Laurel pushed over the dish of pudding and they ate out of it together for a while. Laurel was still sorting out all her thoughts. What first step could she make? If she really wanted to start over, where did she begin? And it wasn’t the greenhouse. It had to be something more personal than that.
Just like that, it hit her. “I’ve got it.” She sat back in her chair and smiled, impressed at the brilliance of it. “I’m going to go to the chamber of commerce and tell them I’ll do the photo.”
“What photo?”
“You know the one that they’ve used for years? Of Aiden and me at Aunt Suzy’s wedding?”
“Sure.”
“They want to do a remake, of us now that we’re older. Update the photo with the same models. I refused, because I was still mad at Aiden. And I couldn’t stand the thought of putting on a wedding dress. It made me sick to my stomach. But I think I can do it now. If nothing else, I’ll prove to myself that I can put on a wedding gown without feeling like I’m gonna throw up.”
“It’s a small commitment. A baby step, I guess.” Her mom didn’t sound convinced.
“No, it’s perfect! Aiden called me on it right at the beginning. I made all sorts of excuses except for the real one—that I hadn’t dealt with my divorce yet. Maybe, if I can do this, I can really start over, you know?”
“If it makes you this excited, it’s probably the right thing. I say go for it.”
“I’ll call Oaklee first thing in the morning. She’ll be thrilled. I don’t think she’s ever had to take no for an answer before.”
Once the decision was made, Laurel felt about ten pounds lighter. She tidied up the kitchen, had a less-heavy chat with her mom over a cup of tea, and vacuumed through the house before heading to bed.
After she called Oaklee, she’d have to tell Aiden. That would be a tougher conversation, but for right now, she felt she could take on the world.
CHAPTER 17
Aiden took a sip of his coffee and wandered down Main Street. He was on duty later, but he hadn’t been able to sleep. He’d got up and had a shower around seven, then made breakfast, and actually tidied up the apartment. Wouldn’t Rory be surprised at that? Of course, he’d made sure to put things away in slightly wrong spots just to get on his brother’s nerves. He wasn’t that far gone with his broken heart.
And then the phone had rung and it had been Oaklee, asking if he was still available for the photo shoot. Apparently Laurel had changed her mind. He’d agreed because he couldn’t back out now, could he? What was Laurel trying to prove by agreeing now? Because she hadn’t so much as sent a text since he’d walked out of her house. He was fairly certain that he’d never understand women.
Now it was nearly ten, he was drinking coffee and wandering around aimlessly, wondering if he should stop by the Ladybug to ask or just wait it out. He wasn’t generally a patient sort of guy, but there was nothing “usual” about the situation with Laurel. He’d gotten in over his head, and now he was paying for it.
His phone buzzed again against his hip. He reached for it and stared at the number. It was Laurel, calling from work. Maybe she wanted to tell him the news herself.
He stared at it long enough that it went to voicemail. Damn.
And then it buzzed again.
He frowned and hit the button to answer. “Hello?”
“Oh, thank God. It’s Laurel. Are you working? Have you seen George this morning?”
His brain switched gears. “No. I’m in town, off duty, but I haven’t seen him at all. Why?”
“He was supposed to be to work at eight, but he never showed up. I didn’t worry too much until nine, but it’s very unlike him. I called the shelter and they said he left at seven-twenty, the usual time. I’m really worried, Aiden.”
“I can tell. I can take a look around.”
“Can I come with you? I’m going to go crazy sitting here.”
“I’ll be there in five.”
“Thanks, Aiden.” She didn’t even say goodbye; just hung up the phone.
Aiden frowned as he turned around and headed back to his truck. George could be unreliable, sure, but things had been different the last few weeks. Plus, George really liked Laurel, and despite his issues, Aiden didn’t think he’d leave Laurel high and dry. Something felt off.
A few minutes later he was at the Ladybug and Laurel was at the gate, purse over her shoulder, ready to go. He didn’t even have time to get out of the truck; she hopped in the passenger side and reached for her seatbelt. “Let’s drive the route from here to the shelter,” she suggested. “Then go from there.”
All the focus was on the current problem. He was okay with that. There’d be time for them to talk later. He drove them down the main drag toward town center, going a good ten miles an hour below the speed limit so they could get a look at the sidewalks and curbs along the way. Neither of them saw anything. Going through the business district was the same, and on the other side, where the lots got bigger and more residential, there was no sign of George, either. The shelter was just west of the main road, off in a cul-de-sac by an auto repair shop and a window and door warehouse.
“Let me go in and check to see if he came back,” she said. He hated seeing the strain on her face. She was so worried. She cared. Not just about George but about people. She always had. It was one of the things he’d always liked about her.
“I’ll wait.”
She hurried out of the truck and into the waiting area of the combined shelter and food bank. Moments later she came back out, shaking her head. “No sign of him,” she said, and slumped into the seat. “What now? Call the station?”
“He’s a vagrant and it’s only been a couple of hours. They’d keep their eyes open, but not go looking.” He hated what he was about to say, but knew it had to be said. “George has a history of just up and going sometimes. He’ll take off to Montpelier or somewhere. He’ll hitchhike and we won’t see him here for weeks or months. I’m sorry, Laurel. I thought maybe that wouldn’t happen once you’d hired him.”
And typical Laurel, she shook her head. “I don’t think so. He wouldn’t do that. If you could see the change in him … he would have told me. I know it.”
“You always think the best of people. Maybe that’s why you keep getting disappointed.”
She turned to him, her jaw set in a stubborn line and her eyes flash
ing. “It’s not a quality I’m ashamed of. And someday, maybe someone will live up to those expectations.”
Ouch. Now if that didn’t hit him square in the pride. He was about to say that he hadn’t walked but had been pushed away, when he thought he saw movement in the trees, only fifty yards or so from the drive.
“Laurel.” He spoke firmly and she instantly quieted.
He undid his seatbelt and pinned her with what he hoped was a don’t-argue-with-me stare. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
He got out of the truck and jogged toward the trees. There it was again, a little bit of movement, the flash of a red shirt.
Train tracks ran through this part of the property, not used anymore, with weeds growing up between the rails and ties. Aiden stepped over them and into the underbrush. “George? Is that you?”
All he got in response was a groan.
Aiden’s pulse quickened as a familiar kind of adrenaline shot into his system. “George? Hang tight. I’m coming. Stay still.”
He shoved through the brush and tall weeds and found George, trying to stand. “Jesus, buddy. Hold on.”
There was blood all over. It streaked his face, over a split just above his eye and beneath his nose, which sat at an odd angle. His skin was pale and Aiden could see he was struggling to breathe. “Hold still,” he ordered. “Can you sit down? I’m going to call for help. You’re hurt.”
“Work.” The word came out more like “wok,” followed by a harsh gasp. “Back … kid.”
“Don’t try to talk,” Aiden commanded. “Stay right here. I’ll be right back.” He’d left his phone in the cup holder of his truck, and he jogged back as quickly as he could so he could call for help.
Laurel had her door open as he approached. “Hand me my phone,” he said, slightly breathless. “It’s him. He needs an ambulance.”
Laurel grabbed his phone and shoved it into his hand. He hadn’t even punched in the numbers when she was dashing across the train tracks.
He joined her only moments later. She had George resting, propped up against a tree. “Don’t try to talk now,” she said gently. “You’re going to be okay. Help’s on the way.”