Once Burned

by Suzie O'Connell

  “Tamlyn found a new partner for the salon who wants to buy me out.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  “I’ll be able to pay you back… except I don’t want to be bought out. I love running the salon.”

  “Again, what does this have to do with me?”

  “I need your advice, even though I’m sure you’ll tell me to sell my part of the salon so you can get your money back.”

  “I am inclined to think both you and the salon would be better off if you sell, yes, but not because I want my money back. The fact of the matter is that you’re not a businesswoman. I’m not trying to be mean, Mel, but you’ve never been great with money, and you can barely balance a checkbook, so why did you figure you could keep records for a business?”

  Silence met his observations.

  “On the other hand, you’re a great stylist, and as I recall, you only wanted to partner up with Tam so you didn’t have to pay such ridiculous station rent. Do you actually love running the salon… or do you love that doing so makes being a stylist a little cheaper?”

  Mel didn’t respond immediately, and hearing her sigh, he braced himself for what he had no doubt was coming.

  “I miss you,” she murmured. “I miss being able to ask you about things like this. And Dylan misses you, too.”

  “I’m sorry, Mel. I am, but that isn’t my problem anymore. I wish you the best, but I can’t be your safety net. Have you located Dylan’s father yet?”

  “Yes, I have. And he wants nothing to do with us.”

  Henry wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he asked anyhow. “Who is it?”

  Again, she hesitated, and he suspected it was someone he knew.

  “Doug is Dylan’s father.”

  Briefly, a pang of betrayal stabbed him, but it was gone in a moment. He gave himself a minute to absorb the information, and in that time, the flash of bitterness disappeared. Of all the people she could have gotten pregnant by, at least it was someone she cared for and who cared for her and Dylan. Relief surged. Doug was a good man.

  “You have proof?”

  “A paternity test confirmed it.” Mel let out a sob and quickly choked it back. “He wants nothing to do with us.”

  That didn’t sound at all like the friend Henry knew, but he wouldn’t have thought Doug would jump into bed with Mel so soon after she and Henry had broken up. Of course, the news that he was a daddy was still probably sinking in, and Henry imagined his friend was angry that Mel hadn’t bothered to consider he might be Dylan’s father, instead choosing to assume Henry was. Unintentional perhaps, but that was a stinging insult to Doug.

  “I strongly suggest you find a way to convince him otherwise,” Henry said, “and soon because being a single parent is only going to get more difficult as Dylan grows.”

  “I’m finding that out.”

  The thought of her adorable son needing something and not getting it gnawed at him, and before he could begin to consider the consequences, he said, “Listen, Mel. If you find yourself in a bind—and I mean a real bind—I’ll help. But don’t call me unless you have no other choice. I don’t want Dylan to go without something he needs, but neither do I want you to lean on me. It’s time you learn to stand on your own feet. And the first step you need to take is talking to Doug. No excuses like I know you’re tempted to make. Just do it.”

  “Thank you, Henry. I promise I will pay you back… even if I decide not to sell my half of the salon to this woman Tam wants to bring in.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to go fix myself dinner. Take care, Mel.”

  “You, too.”

  After ending the call, Henry hunched over the counter with his forehead pillowed on his folded harms. What in the hell had he just done? He knew better than to leave the door open to Mel even that fraction of an inch.

  Jerking upright, he took the cordless into his bedroom and sprawled on his bed, staring up at the ceiling for what felt like an eternity as his generosity warred with his self-preservation. Why did his every dealing with Mel leave him torn like this? The only time he was torn about Lindsay came when he tried to keep their temporary bargain temporary while everything in him wanted to further explore the intoxicating chemistry—physical and emotional—between them.

  He glanced at the picture sitting beneath the lamp on his nightstand. Skye had printed it out for him, a shot she’d taken of him and Lindsay dancing at Vince and Evie’s wedding reception. Even then, barely twenty-four-hours after they’d met, the connection between them was obvious. The smiles on both their faces and the way they had eyes only for each other, oblivious to everything and everyone around them….

  At least Mel hadn’t asked him to come back. He wasn’t in the least tempted, but that didn’t mean he had the energy to explain to her why he couldn’t even thought his reasons were very simple. He didn’t and hadn’t ever loved Mel, and even if he had, his hope for a relationship with Lindsay—just the hope of starting something with her—eclipsed it.

  He pinched his eyes closed and massaged the bridge of his nose as a million thoughts and emotions danced through is head in a dizzying tango. What a day. Suddenly bone-tired in a way that had nothing to do with the day’s physical labor, he dozed off with his dinner still sitting uncooked in the microwave. Soon after, the ringing of his phone snapped him out of a pleasant dream about Lindsay, and he glanced at the cordless handset’s small screen to see her number displayed. Smiling, he answered.

  Chapter Ten

  “I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE you said that to Skye,” Lindsay said to her son as they climbed the crumbling steps to the house they shared with Chelsea and Spencer. “At least she waited until she was divorced before she moved on to a new man, which is a lot more than Darren did. That was so incredibly rude, what you said, that I can’t believe it came out of my son’s mouth.”

  “How many times do I have to say I’m sorry? I didn’t mean to be rude. It just sorta popped out.”

  “Funny how things like that just sorta pop out of your mouth after you talk to your father. I guess that means you’re over hating him.”

  “Well, he is my dad,” Noah snapped. “And you can’t take that away from him.”

  “Yep. There he is,” Lindsay muttered. With fury snapping through her, she whirled on Noah and pointed a shaking finger at him. “Let me tell you something, Noah. I don’t want to take that away from him. I never did. I have always wanted him to be a parent and to do what every parent should—to take care of his child instead of fighting over every dime and every visit. But enough of this. I’m not going to fight with you about it.”

  The front door was unlocked, so Lindsay pushed it open and gestured for Noah to enter ahead of her. Chelsea and her boyfriend were making out on the couch but jerked apart as soon as Lindsay stepped inside and shut the door. Chelsea smiled sheepishly. After pausing to regard the couple with brows lifted and a faint sneer of disgust, Noah strode toward the room he shared with Spencer.

  “Sorry,” Chelsea’s boyfriend mumbled.

  Lindsay shrugged. “For what? God knows he sees enough of that on TV and… everywhere.”

  “Um, Lindsay?” Chelsea said. “We have some big—”

  A commotion in the boys’ bedroom drew Lindsay’s attention, and she jogged down the short hall. She popped her head in the doorway to see her son and Spencer wrestling on the floor, and it was immediately clear that they weren’t playing. Red-faced and crying, Noah struggled to overpower his enemy while Spencer thrashed violently to free himself. Lindsay barreled into the room with Chelsea right behind her, wrapped her arm around her son’s waist, and hoisted him off the ground, nearly losing her grip on him when he pushed off the side of his bed with his foot. When had her little boy grown so strong?

  “Noah Ulrich! Enough!”

  “He stole my crystals, Mom! The ones you and your friend Henry found and brought home for me.”

  “I didn’t steal anything, you stupid brat!” Spen
cer spat.

  He’d been face down, and when he rolled onto his back with his mother’s assistance, Lindsay saw his bloodied nose and swore under her breath. Chelsea called for her boyfriend and asked him to bring her a paper towel.

  “Yes, you did!” Noah yelled. “They were in my mom’s room when we left for dinner. I made sure to put them back there because I didn’t want you to take them. Because you always take my things and wreck them!”

  “Spencer?” Chelsea asked. “Is that true?”

  Silence. The older boy glared at Noah, and his lack of response was all the confirmation Lindsay needed. The crystals in question were scattered across the carpet, glinting evidence of Spencer’s deed. Noah finally stopped fighting Lindsay, and she let him go so he could pick up his treasures. After a moment, she stooped to help him, using the task to help her rein in her immediate instinct to defend her son. Chelsea’s boyfriend brought the paper towels, and Chelsea took her son into the bathroom to get him cleaned up.

  After they’d gathered all the crystals they could find—some were certainly lost elsewhere in the room and wouldn’t be found unless everything was moved out—Lindsay sat down on Noah’s bed and asked him to sit with her.

  “I know you and Spencer don’t get along and that he’s always taking your things and breaking them, but do you really think hitting him was the right way to deal with it?”

  “Well, nothing else works.”

  “Noah.”

  He gave her a hooded look, and the wounded pride in his eyes threatened to demolish her shaky composure. She held her ground, and after almost two full minutes of the silent staring contest, he gave in. His boyishly narrow shoulders slumped and his head drooped in defeat.

  “I’m sorry, Mom.”

  “I’m sorry, too, bud.” She wrapped both arms around him and hugged him, relieved when he leaned into her. “I know it’s hard. You want to sleep in my room tonight?”

  “Please.”

  “And I’ll make sure I hide your crystals in the top of my closet, okay? I have to say, though, that I’m a bit surprised they’re so special to you that you’d get into a fight over them. I mean, they’re just rocks.”

  He shrugged. “Every time I see them, I remember how happy you were when you told me about finding them with your friend Henry. I liked how you smiled like you couldn’t help it.”

  That was not the response she’d expected, and the sentiment behind it made her heart ache with longing and pride. “How’d I get so lucky to have such a wonderful son?”

  “I dunno.” He sighed heavily. “I really am sorry for fighting with Spencer. He just makes me so mad.”

  “I know, baby.”

  “Will I ever get to meet Henry?”

  Lindsay rested her cheek on top of his head and hugged him tighter for a moment. “I don’t know, but I hope so.” She leaned away from him and brushed his hair back from his forehead before inspecting his face. He was going to need a haircut soon. “Back to you and fighting. Are you all right? You don’t look hurt.”

  “I’m fine. I didn’t give him a chance to hit me.”

  “I’m glad you’re okay, but please don’t ever do that again. Fighting never solves anything and in fact just makes things even worse. Get your PJs out and head up to my room while I go talk to Chelsea, all right?”

  Noah nodded, and Lindsay stepped out of the room. Chelsea and Spencer had already left the bathroom, and she found them sitting with Chelsea’s boyfriend on the couch. Wearily, Lindsay sat in the desk chair and faced them. Now that he was cleaned up, Spencer didn’t look so bad. His pride was bruised, she noted, but as he’d just been outmatched by a boy a year younger and ten pounds lighter than him, it wasn’t too hard to figure out why. She heard Noah leave his room and close the door of hers behind him and sighed with relief. A moment later, Chelsea quietly told Spencer to return to his room.

  “Anyhow…” the other woman began. “Before the boys got into a fight, I was about to tell you that Rob and I have some big news.”

  Of course we’re not going to talk about the fact that our sons just got into a brawl, Lindsay thought with an inward sneer. Which is exactly why Spencer keeps stealing and ruining Noah’s belongings. What’s to convince him to stop?

  “What kind of news?” she heard herself ask. She sounded just as tired as she felt.

  Chelsea lifted her left hand and beamed. It took Lindsay a moment to notice the almost obnoxiously large diamond solitaire glittering on her roommate’s finger and even longer to recognize what it meant.

  “You’re engaged?”

  With a squeal, Chelsea replied, “Yes! Todd proposed at dinner tonight, and I said yes. Obviously.”

  “Congratulations,” Lindsay said flatly. She probably sounded like she didn’t care—not too far from the truth right at that moment—so she sat up a little straighter and attempted a convincingly enthusiastic smile. “Really. I mean that. I’m happy for you both, but I’m tired, so forgive me if I don’t sound like it.”

  “There’s something else,” Todd said, clearing his throat nervously. “I’ve asked Chelsea and Spencer to move in with me.”

  Panic seized Lindsay. Move in…? That meant she and Noah would have to find a new place to rent or a roommate because there was no way she’d be able to afford this place on her own. “When?”

  “This week.”

  “This… week?”

  “That’s right,” Chelsea answered gleefully. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

  “Yeah… wonderful.” Lindsay rose slowly to her feet. “Congrats again. Excuse me.”

  Without pausing to wonder why, she grabbed the cordless phone and headed to her bedroom. She sought sanctuary—a place where she could cry without an audience—but with Noah sitting cross-legged on her bed counting his crystals to see how many were missing, she wasn’t going to find it. He glanced up at her, and she pasted her well-practiced fake smile on her face and asked him if he’d be all right by himself while she stepped out onto the back deck. He nodded and returned to his task without noticing anything unusual about her demeanor.

  Still clutching the phone, Lindsay slipped out the back door. The weather gods were smiling on her tonight because the skies were clear, something that didn’t happen often in the middle of October. She sank onto one of the cheap folding chairs she’d splurged on at the start of summer and rested her head against the back of it. What were she and Noah going to do? A few days didn’t give her enough time to find a new roommate and it sure as hell didn’t give her enough time to find a new house. She might be able to pay Chelsea’s portion of the rent for next month, but she certainly wouldn’t be able to scrape together the money to pay all the utilities, too, because she hadn’t yet paid back the money to her savings account that she’d spent on her trip to Montana.

  Montana….

  It was with a groan half of guilt and half of longing that the name entered her mind, and she lifted her gaze to the darkening sky. In the twilight, a couple stars twinkled, but she knew there wouldn’t be nearly as many when the dim glow of dying day faded into black night as there would be in the sky over Northstar, and right now, she dearly missed those stars. She missed a lot more about Montana, and though she and Henry agreed she wouldn’t call him tonight because of her dinner with Skye, she found herself dialing his number, needing the peace the mere sound of his voice never failed to bring her.

  “Thought you weren’t going to call tonight,” he mumbled sleepily.

  “I woke you up again,” she said, immediately regretting her selfish need. “But it’s not that late.”

  “It’s been a long day, and I dozed off because, apparently, I’m getting old and soft, too.”

  “Say it isn’t so.”

  “It is. Spent the day cutting firewood with Nick, and I am beat. Kinda sad that my older brother can outwork me these days.”

  “If he weren’t just a couple years older, I might agree with you. I should let you go so you can rest up.”

  “No, you shouldn
’t. I’m glad you called. I’m glad because I love talking to you, but I’m also glad because I talked to Mel a little bit ago, and I wanted to hear your voice.”

  At once, her worries slipped away as curiosity needled her. “You talked to Mel? Who called whom, and what about?”

  “She called me. What, you don’t actually think I’d be crazy enough to call her?”

  “No, I’m just checking. What did she want?”

  “For one, her friend Tam has someone she wants to bring into the salon… someone who can and wants to buy Mel out of it.”

  “Which means you’d get the money you loaned her back, right?”

  “If she decides to sell, yes. But it doesn’t sound like she wants to. I of course told her she should. That’s not the most interesting piece of news she had, though. It turns out that my old friend and coworker Doug is Dylan’s father.”

  “Wait. Didn’t she go out with him before she and you got together? They were together for a pretty long time, weren’t they?”

  “Yeah, almost four years. I thought they’d get married, but then they ended up breaking up.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t really know.”

  “That’s good news, though, isn’t it, that Doug is Dylan’s father? I assume, since he’s a friend of yours, that you approve of him, which means you won’t have to feel so guilty for leaving him now.”

  “Yes and no. It seems Doug doesn’t want anything to do with either Mel or Dylan, and I’m pretty sure I know why.”

  “He’s pissed at her for assuming you were Dylan’s father.”

  “That’s my guess.”

  He sighed, and even seven hundred miles away, she could picture him frowning and wondered what else he’d said to Mel. Acquainted with his generous nature, she had a pretty good idea. “You didn’t offer to help Mel, did you?”

  He laughed. “Am I that transparent?”

  “Only to me because we constructed our friendship on a foundation of almost embarrassingly intimate honesty. You have a heart of gold, Henry, and that isn’t to be faulted, but you do remember why you decided to leave her in the first place, don’t you?”