Champagne and Lemon Drops: A Blueberry Springs Chick Lit Contemporary Romance

by Jean Oram

  "You would have duties together. Like dancing," her sister said quietly.

  "It's fine." Beth pushed past her sister. "He's a good dancer."

  "It's still over six months out..." Cynthia said, uncertainty lacing her words.

  "I can handle it, okay?" Maybe they'd even be back together by then. Maybe instead of irreversibly breaking Oz, she'd motivated him in some slow, undercurrent kind of way and he'd be asking her back within a week.

  Not likely, but a girl could hope.

  Mary Alice waited for Beth at the cash register with a grin. "Ready to check out, dear?"

  Beth piled her items on the counter and nodded.

  "Heard Oz hit the bottle," Mary Alice said, giving Beth a raised eyebrow. Beth's heart sank. "What's up with the two of you, anyway? Everyone thought you'd be back together by now. Is that city doc elbowing his way in where he doesn't belong?"

  "He's a friend," Beth said, slapping her money down on the counter.

  "I didn't realize you two were seeing other people." Mary Alice raised her brow again.

  Beth let out a frustrated grumble and bolted her lips shut. Nothing she'd say to Mary Alice right now would make things any better.

  "That boy's been on a two-day bender from what I heard," Mary Alice said to Beth. "Coincidental?"

  Beth turned on her heel and slammed her way out of the store, the door's bells jingling merrily. Tears pricked at her eyes. She would not let the town get the best of her. She would hold her head high. She would not let the guilt slowly kill her. Probably.

  Katie walked up and paused with her hand on the door to the store. "What's wrong?"

  She forced her voice to come out in an even tone. "You told me hanging out with other men would work."

  "Whoa!" Katie stepped back from the door, her eyes wide. "I didn't say hold hands with the town's most sought-after bachelor in the busiest place you could find."

  "I'm ruining him."

  "Says who?" Katie asked darkly.

  Beth tilted her head to the store.

  "Oh, for heaven's sake, Beth. You can't trust what that woman says."

  Beth turned from Katie's flashing eyes, reminded of how Oz's eyes had been filled with so much pain two nights ago. How she was the one to blame.

  Katie stepped closer. "What's up between you and Nash anyway?"

  In a hard voice, Beth said, "Nothing. We're friends."

  Katie let out an unconvinced harrumph.

  Beth fought the urge to downplay their friendship, but the truth was now, more than ever, she needed his friendship and the confidence he held in her. She enjoyed the time she spent with Nash as well as his doting attention. He made her feel special and alive again. Plus, he dared her to step out of her small town roots and try something new—even if it was only a drink or starting an outreach program. There was something exhilarating in being daring for a moment in time.

  This morning he'd shown up in her office with a fancy coffee concoction—super delicious—made with his new coffee machine. It even had whipped cream and chocolate shavings on top. Well, the whipped cream was nothing more than a melted puddle skimming the top of her mocha by the time she'd received it. She'd tried to turn it away, to distance herself from him, but she couldn't. Partly because sometimes, it felt as though he was the only one on her side. The only one who would support whatever decisions she made and act as the voice of reason when things got crazy in her head.

  Beth focused on Katie. "Look. I didn't mean to hurt Oz. Or intend for him to misinterpret things." Again.

  Cynthia slowly exited the store, her eyes flitting between them.

  Beth felt the weight of Katie's judgment. "Why didn't hanging out with Nash motivate Oz? Why didn't he... sling me over his shoulder and take me home?"

  "Maybe he needs time," Cynthia said thoughtfully. "Maybe he's confused." Her sister pulled her in for a half hug. "It'll all work out."

  She really wished her sister would stop saying that. She was happily planning a wedding, what did she know about things like this?

  "Where do I go from here?" Beth asked.

  "You wait," Katie said firmly.

  "For how long?" Beth said, annoyed that a whine tinged her voice. She'd felt rejected when Oz asked for a break, and now she could add unwanted to the list as someone he didn't seem to miss. Add that to another half-dozen, self-pity-inducing adjectives that tormented her late at night and she had a self-esteem that had taken up bungee-jumping.

  The air sucked out of Beth's lungs as a familiar-looking blue bicycle wobbled by on the opposite side of the street. Her old bike. With what looked like a half-consumed bottle of rum in the flowery basket.

  She watched silently as Oz wove his way down the street. The three of them turned to follow his progress. As Oz parked the bike at the end of the block, Katie asked quietly, "What is he doing?"

  Oz lumbered up the steps to town hall—all two of them—and spread his arms out at his sides. His chest expanded as he took in a deep breath. Then he bellowed for all the Monday evening foot traffic to hear, "Bethany Wilkinson is a good person."

  "What the fuck?" stuttered Katie.

  Beth turned and bolted up the street, humiliation dogging her steps. Oz continued his speech and Beth clasped her hands over her ears. The odd face she passed turned to her in pity and curiosity before turning back to Oz and his public proclamation.

  Cynthia caught up with Beth and wrenched a hand off Beth's ear. "Listen."

  Beth paused. The streets were quiet, other than a lone bird singing in the square half a block away. A diesel muttered its way toward them, oblivious to what precious words it might be drowning out.

  Benny came out of his restaurant and smiled at Beth, nodding towards Oz. "He's been doing it all afternoon, on the hour. First here, then over at the church, the library, and finally to the corner in front of the diner." He gazed thoughtfully in Oz's direction. "He spends the remaining forty-five minutes at home cradling that bottle. Wanda went over at four and watered it down some. Might be too late to make a difference though." He addressed the girls, "If you're driving, keep an eye out. He's a tad bit unsteady." Benny, hands clasped behind his back, returned to his restaurant. The stale, greasy smell of burgers and fries with a hint of bacon wafted into the street before the door closed behind him.

  Beth watched the closed door, wondering what she could do to fix Oz and stop him from humiliating them both. What cord could she pull to stop this awful merry-go-round before one of them fell off and got hurt?

  "Oz still loves you," Cynthia said, a slight smile tweaking her lips as she gave Beth's arm a hug. "He's defending you."

  Oz climbed back on her bike, the frame dipping towards the pavement before he managed to pull it upright at the last second, zigzagging raggedly until he built enough momentum to straighten out. She watched him until he was out of sight, then said softly, "If he cares enough to defend me, why can't he care enough to ask me back?"

  Chapter 7

  "Beth, honey?" Angelica peered through Beth's open office door. "Do you have a moment?"

  "Sure." Beth hesitated. Oz's mother had never, in all of Beth's years working here, stopped by. Not even a quick hello while dropping off baking to help speed a family member's recovery. But there she was in the doorway, her long skirt's sequins sparkling under the fluorescent lights. Beth started to stand, but stopped. She gestured to the chair by the door. "Come in."

  Angelica stepped in and cast a slow glance around the office. Her eyes lingered on a photo of Beth and Oz which was still staring out from its spot on top of her bookshelf.

  "Are these for me?" Beth asked, indicating the plate of brownies Angelica was holding. "Do you want coffee? I can grab some from the common room."

  "I'm fine," Angelica said, easing into the hard guest chair, looking uncomfortable in Beth's cramped space. She passed the plate to Beth.

  "Still no recipe taped to the bottom?" she asked, peeking at the plate's underside. "What's a girl gotta do?"

  Angelica cl
utched the straps of her purse, her face lined and tense.

  Beth slowly peeled back the plastic wrap. "Want one?" Beth asked, before sinking her teeth into a gooey chocolate heaven. "Oh my god, these are even better than usual!" Her eyes rolled back as she savored the flavor before bolting upright, her eyes opening wide. "This is Mandy's recipe!"

  Son of a bitch!

  Angelica shook her head, perched on the edge of her chair. "Just trying something new. You really think they taste like Mandy's?" She asked, her eyebrows arched hopefully.

  Beth nodded. "Are you going to try and to de-crown her at the fall bake off?"

  Angelica, looking pleased with herself ignored the question, and said, "You're looking well. Are you sleeping better?"

  "Dr. Leham prescribed sleeping pills."

  A line appeared between her brows. "You be careful with those things."

  "I only take them when I can't fall asleep." Which was fairly regularly since Oz had asked for a break. And seeing as they had just crept up to end of June and things weren't looking any better in her love life... it was becoming quite a few nights.

  "Dr. Leham seems like a nice fellow." Pause. "Katie says he's very... efficient. A real go-getter."

  Beth wiped brownie crumbs from her lips. She wasn't even going to entertain what this conversation might be code for. A week later, she was still hearing rumblings from Oz's bike and bottle adventure. "He's very caring. A good friend."

  Angelica frowned at her hands.

  Beth blurted, "We're not dating."

  Angelica looked up slowly and Beth felt her face heat. Mentally, she slapped herself. Could she act guiltier? Now Oz's mom was going to think the rumors were true.

  "Could I ask a favor?" Angelica asked quietly.

  "Of course." Beth tried to relax. Angelica was the first to give, the last to take—making the idea of her actually asking for something a bit of a nerve-wracking experience.

  "I'm not sure..." Angelica's grip tightened on her handbag.

  Oh, crap. It was about Oz. There was no way she'd be able to help Angelica if it had to do with him. Things still felt precarious between them and if she did anything more than leave him messages, which he resolutely refused to acknowledge, things would get worse. Much, much worse. Assuming that was possible.

  "Oz won't talk to me anymore," Angelica said, wringing her handbag's plastic straps. "If it was only for a day or two I could understand... but it's been too long. I'm afraid I'm not going to get him back. It's not like it used to be between us."

  They could start a freaking club.

  Angelica continued, "He's letting the business go. To see him let it slip through his fingers... Harvey is so upset I'm afraid he's going to have another episode. He so desperately wants Oz to settle down and succeed with the business. Why Oz would do this... I just don't understand."

  They could start a club for that, too.

  "I know you two are having a rough patch, but he seems so unhappy. So lost. Maybe you don't see it with how busy you are with your new job, but it's there."

  Beth held back a snort. Busy was almost funny. After three insane months of getting things in place for her drop-in outreach one person had shown up: Gran. She said Reggie would have come too, but his daughter had stopped by at the last minute. Nash told her this sort of thing always happens and building an effective outreach takes time. He was full of ideas on how to recover from the humiliation, from not making it a drop-in so people would value it more to advertising. Seriously. Advertising for it like nobody had a clue what she'd been up to for the past several months. But, he said it provided an air of legitimacy.

  "The light in his eyes is gone, and that worries me," Angelica said. "A mother can't sit by and watch that happen. He needs you."

  Beth blinked back tears. "I need him too," she whispered.

  "Maybe you could talk some sense into him. He's always listened to you."

  Beth bit back a laugh and said bitterly, "He won't return my calls or answer the door. He's probably assuming the worst right now. I don't think there's much hope, Angelica."

  Angelica leaned forward. "He still loves you."

  Beth flicked a crumb off her chair's armrest. Everyone kept saying that and it was starting to tick her off. The Oz who loved her had changed. Her hopes of him taking her back was waning to the point where she was left with a shred of flickering hope. One big puff and it was gone.

  "I've been researching a really nice rehabilitation center on Google. Maybe if you and I talked to him, he would go?"

  Beth almost stopped breathing. "Rehab?"

  Angelica smiled. "Yes! Exactly."

  "Uh... what?" Rehab was for druggies, alcoholics, and starlets who needed a break from their crazy realities. Not Oz, who was feeling lost and possibly angry. And would likely be even angrier if his mother pulled a stunt like trying to send him to rehab—unless, of course, she was missing something and he really actually needed that kind of help on top of finding himself. Oh God. This really wasn't going to end well.

  Angelica sat primly, her face bright. "I think we need to get together and talk to him. It's what's best."

  "Wait... like... an intervention?" What the hell? "Have you been watching Oprah reruns, Angelica?" She tried to say it kindly, but she knew how some shows could influence Angelica and make her see her own world in a way that simply wasn't accurate.

  "Yes! Exactly! An intervention." Angelica grinned at Beth. She pulled a folded sheet of paper from her purse. "Here are some tips I found online."

  Beth cautiously accepted the paper. How could she explain that an intervention could cause Oz to clam up like he'd chugged Crazy Glue? An intervention spelled trouble with a capital T. Beth slid the plate of Bribe Beth Brownies and info sheet onto the filing cabinet beside her desk and stated matter-of-factly, "I can't do this."

  "It will be a surprise."

  Beth carefully added, "This seems a tad... premature." Misguided. Ill-informed. Wrong.

  Whatever she needed to get him to come back to her, this wasn't it. "I don't think getting up in his grill is a good idea. We need to give him time to get over last week."

  Angelica stated kindly, "It will be a calm conversation about his reckless behavior and how he is damaging his relationships," she paused to let that point hit home, "and that we know he is hurting and that there is help. He's starting to hurt himself."

  Beth's pulse sped up. "What do you mean hurting himself?" she whispered.

  "He's in a self-destructive cycle. He believes he is protecting you, but his all-about-town rant and boozing isn't good for him and it isn't cute or harmless." She gave Beth a hard look that made her want to crawl under her desk for protection.

  "Action needs to be taken now." Angelica stood banging her fist in the air like she was shaking a maraca. "An intervention is the answer. It will open him up. Start the conversation. Ease his troubles."

  "He needs to do this on his own." Beth studied her hands. "As hard as it is for the rest of us."

  "We have to help."

  "I can't," Beth said in a quiet voice. "I can't do this to him." Beth shook her head, pushing back in her chair like Angelica was going to forcibly remove her and make her confront Oz.

  "How would it look if you weren't there?" Angelica asked softly. "It would look as though you don't care." She watched Beth, challenging her. In a low, even voice she said, "After that weekend, I think it is especially important that his fiancée be present."

  Beth gazed at Angelica—a small, quiet, but very determined mother bear. She thought of Oz and all the hurt piling up between them. If she stepped in what would happen? How would he react? Her voice shook as she said, "I don't think this is a good idea."

  "I'll arrange everything for tonight. All you have to do is show up and be present." Angelica placed a warm hand firmly over Beth's and gave her a long look that made Beth lower her eyes in shame. If that was what it was like to have a mother pissed off and disappointed in you, then she was kind of glad she'd been raise
d by her gran and sister for most of her teenage years.

  Angelica gave Beth one last look before opening the door. Softly she said, "Timing is everything, Beth."

  "But what about Katie and Will? They're out of town for Will's conference. They won't be home until tomorrow and they should be there." Plus, Katie would totally talk sense into her mother. She'd tell her exactly how this was a very bad idea and that Oz would most definitely take it the wrong way. And even if Katie did agree to go along with it, she would make sure things went right because nobody messed with Katie. Not even a big brother with a boatload of problems.

  Angelica shook her head. "Timing is everything." She stepped through the doorway and turned. "I'll pick you up at seven. By eight we'll have you back in Oz's arms like nothing ever happened."

  She closed the door behind her and Beth sat in the silence of her office, afraid to move, afraid to think what the consequences might be rather than what Angelica believed them to be.

  ***

  That evening, instead of relaxing in the theater's air conditioning watching a romantic comedy like she'd planned, Beth found herself standing in the day's lingering heat, banging on Oz's door. Something felt off and it was more than the group shifting nervously behind her and the small pack of onlookers tittering on the sidewalk. Something in the heavy summer air was warning her like a bird's screeching call of danger.

  Basically, she wanted to pee her pants. But being the one thrust to the front of the intervention's gang of eight—even though Angelica had promised her a nonspeaking role—she had to stand tall even though she knew her night was not going to end in Oz's arms like his mother had promised.

  She squared her shoulders and turned to the group. "He's not home. Let's go."

  "His truck is in the driveway," Oz's father pointed out.

  "Maybe he's taken your bike," Cynthia offered with a smirk.

  "That's quite enough," reprimanded Oz's mom.

  Beth's cheeks burned.

  "Try again," Angelica commanded.

  Beth turned to the scarred wood door and thumped on it, waiting for it to swing open. She traced her finger over the small 'B' Oz had carved into the door the night they'd signed the mortgage papers. He was going to carve their initials, but she'd stopped him, feeling self-conscious. It was a door, not a tree.