by Anna Sugden
Except this wasn’t her home, and home wasn’t her home, and Wes’s wasn’t her home. She was metaphorically homeless and heartbroken.
Mia returned with a bottle of wine.
“Aw, you’re the best.”
Mia settled herself next to Cara on the porch stair. “I learned from you.” She handed off the wine.
Cara tried to find some kind of good feeling in that. “Unfortunately, I don’t think Wes will be coming after me with declarations of love like Dell did for you.” She took a big gulp. Maybe Mia’d let her drink the whole thing.
“You never know. You’ve been happy. I guess I don’t know much about him, but I’ve never seen you all relationshippy.”
Cara shook her head. No, he was too...whatever. Together they’d both changed, made each other better, but maybe they’d come to the end of that. They’d each done what they could, but it wasn’t enough for more.
“I wanted him to let me all the way in. And he won’t. Or can’t. Or something. He wouldn’t even introduce me to his mom.”
“What?”
“That’s wrong, right? I’m not being too hard on him? I mean, if it was love or whatever, he’d let me in. Tell me what’s going on. Want to be a part of my life. He’d want that, right? He’d try.”
“I think so.”
Cara took another drink and then handed the bottle to Mia. They sat in silence for a while, passing the wine bottle back and forth. The sun was beginning to set, the air getting slightly cooler as the minutes ticked on.
“The thing is, I do love the idiot. Is it gross and unfeminist to say he helped me change for the better?”
“No. Look, lots of people come into our lives. Friends, boyfriends, sisters.” Mia slung an arm around her shoulder. “And, the good ones help us change for the better. Or make us better or make us want to be better. That’s not wrong. I mean, you helped him change, too, right?”
“I think so. Parts, anyway. But not all the parts I needed.”
Mia squeezed. “Well, there you have it. Just because he helped you find some change in your life doesn’t mean you have to stay with him. Not if he can’t give you what you need from a relationship.”
“You, oh wise one, who have had one relationship.”
“I am getting married in two weeks. I am an insufferably happy expert.”
Cara leaned her head on Mia’s shoulder. “I don’t want it to be over.”
“I know. But you deserve someone who’ll give you the relationship you need. The relationship you want. If it’s not Wes, it’ll be somebody else.”
Which only made the lump in her throat get harder to swallow around. Impossible, really. “Sam wants to do a full-time supplier contract for the pies,” she blurted, hoping to avoid another round of sobbing. Today had not been a total bust. There were good things to celebrate.
Mia squealed. “Cara! That’s amazing. Amazing. Look at you, little sister. You are kicking ass and taking names. I am so, so proud of you.”
“Why do I feel like shit?”
“Adulthood kind of sucks?”
“I’ll drink to that.” She took a long swig, wishing she could drink faster, dull the pain faster. But it kept aching in her chest like some kind of deep, festering wound. “Thanks. For this.”
“That’s what sisters are for.”
“I’ve been keeping my distance a bit since the whole Dell thing happened.”
Mia looked at her hands. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. But you always said I was big-sistering you and—”
“It’s not your fault. Really. I’ve been so happy to see you happy. I guess I felt left out. Then I finally got happy, and we’ve both been busy. Now I’m unhappy and back at your doorstep.”
“My doorstep is always, always open. Happy, unhappy and everything in between.”
Cara nodded. “Mine is, too.”
“Good.”
It did feel good. It felt good to have someone who was there through thick and thin. And Cara would always be there for Mia, too.
As for Wes. “You think I did the right thing?”
“I know you did. And if you want, we can go egg his truck. Just don’t get me thrown in jail for my wedding.”
Cara snorted. She watched a bird glide through the air and land on a tree. “I love you.” Some love could be enough. The love of a sister, anyway.
“I love you, too.” Mia wrapped her other arm around Cara so it was a full-on hug. “And it’ll be okay. It really will.”
“Yeah. It will.” Broken hearts mended all the time, right?
* * *
WES LAY IN BED, staring at his ceiling. The migraine that had been assaulting him for the past two days had been nasty, but he usually worked through that kind of pain.
With Mom staying with him—indefinitely, she said—he lay in bed and let work pile up. Let the phone calls and emails pile up. He supposed Mom was handling it, and if not?
He hadn’t worked up the energy to care.
Phantom’s snout nudged his side, but he ignored him. Just wallowed. In the pain—both his head and the unfamiliar constricting pain in his chest that even an idiot like him knew had nothing to do with his body’s limitations and everything to do with missing Cara.
“Knock, knock.” Mom swept in, cell phone in one hand, plate of food in the other.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Oh, well, that works out then, because this isn’t for you until you make a phone call.” She plopped the phone onto his bed, then pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and dropped that next to the phone.
He looked at the paper, saw the name of the hospital and immediately slumped back down. “Not interested in that, either.”
“Too bad.”
He looked at his mother in shock. Even when he’d been a kid, she’d never been very firm. “What are you doing?”
“I’m pushing. You gave me permission to, remember?”
“No, I—”
“Too late. What’s said is said.” She pushed the phone at him. “Make the appointment. Or your mommy will do it for you.”
Wes could only stare.
“Make the call, Wesley Stone. You have five minutes.”
She looked around the room, then placed the plate on his dresser before going to the other side of the bed where Phantom lay. She began scratching the dog’s head.
He wanted to argue, but what would be the point? Mom had gotten it into her head she needed to be a hard-ass? Fine. After all, he could always cancel the appointment. Unless she knocked him out and dropped him off at the hospital, she couldn’t make him get the surgery.
So, he made the call. Got a slot next month and called it a day.
“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” She shoved the plate at him. “Eat. You’ve barely eaten for two days, and while I understand heartache does that to a person, you need to eat. Your migraine medication said so.”
“I didn’t take any.”
She popped up and disappeared before returning with a pill and a glass of water. “Take it.”
“Mom. This is...”
“What I should have been doing all along.”
He rubbed at his chest because it ached even harder. He didn’t know what to do with her taking care of him. Didn’t know how to combat something he’d... God, he’d wanted this, and as much as he wanted to blame her for moving to California while he was deployed and not coming back when he was discharged, it was his own fault.
He hadn’t wanted to try to fit in to her new family, so he’d purposefully kept himself apart. Pushed her away. He’d always known she wouldn’t push back, even though he’d wanted her to, somewhere deep down.
He was a mess.
But he took the pill and ate the sandwich she’d made him. “You don’t have to watch me eat.”
“We need to talk.”
“About what?”
“That young lady who burst in here the other day.” Mom eased onto the edge of his bed. “She seems nice.”
“The five minu
tes you saw her were not nice.”
“No, but she clearly loves you, which is nice.”
Why didn’t she stab him in the chest while she was at it? “Well, it’s over. So...”
“Do you want it to be over?”
“Can’t you pick one thing to poke at me about? I scheduled the damn surgery. Leave me alone.”
“No, sir, you wanted me to push. I’m pushing. I’m making up for years upon years of not pushing. How can you make it up to her? Flowers? Groveling?”
“Impossible.”
“Nonsense. Nonsense. She loves you. You obviously love her, or you wouldn’t be moping about, ignoring work, ignoring that terrible sheep in your barn. I fed him, and I swear the thing stared at me with soulless demon eyes. And I love all creatures.”
“Mom.”
“She’s quite lovely and good for you. I’d noticed you’d seemed lighter lately, but I thought you’d made friends. I didn’t know you’d fallen in love.”
“Had. Over. Forget it.”
“It doesn’t have to be, if you’d analyze where things went wrong and figure out—”
“No! It’s over. It’s over. There’s no analyzing. No figuring. I don’t want her to...”
“To?”
He pushed the plate off his lap and the blankets off his legs and got out of the bed because he couldn’t sit there under Mom’s steady gaze as if this was somehow normal. As if it was okay she’d dropped into his life with all her pushing.
Even if he had said that’s what he wanted, that didn’t mean she could do it.
“Cara doesn’t need to get all wrapped up in my legion of issues, okay? I want to pretend they’re not there, and she won’t let me, so it’s over. Over.” That was that. She didn’t like the way he needed to live. What other options were there? Changing even more? He’d already changed so much. “Is it so wrong to not want to deal with certain things? To avoid them? That’s not wrong. It’s healthy.”
“Oh, sweetie, that’s ridiculous.”
He rested his forehead against the wall with a thunk. “Why are you here?”
“Because I wanted things to change. Because I was tired of what we are. I will always feel like I failed you, but—”
“I don’t want you to feel that way.”
“I know. But how would I know that if I hadn’t come and argued with you and found that out?” Her hand rested on his shoulder. “You have no idea how glad I am I came. How glad I am that we had this talk. That you lost your temper. It opened up this space where we can change.”
“I am tired of change.”
“Well, I’m sorry life doesn’t work that way. Even if you’ve gone through enough change to last a lifetime, even if you’ve had enough hurt and pain to last a lifetime, sometimes it keeps coming at you. And I understand. I do. Sometimes life is so hard, pretending is the only thing that gets us through.”
She dropped her hand. “Those years of struggling. Trying to provide for us. I had to pretend everything was okay, or I wouldn’t have been able to get up in the morning. I’m sorry if I set a bad example.”
“Stop blaming yourself. You’re the only one who does.”
“Oh, Wes.” Her voice wavered, but she took a loud, deep breath. “I will work on that. I really will.”
“Great. Now can I—”
“We’ve come through so much and are on the other side now. Let’s make something of it. You love this business. You love this place. You love that girl. Fight for them, honey. Fight for happiness, and, more, believe in it. You deserve it.” She patted his shoulder. “Now I am going to go answer some messages and emails for you while you finish your sandwich. Then you’re going to get up and do some work.”
With that, she left him. Alone. Half-eaten sandwich sitting on his bed, migraine slicing through his skull as he rested against the wall, heart aching as if it was a frigging bone that could break.
You deserve it.
Fight for them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“YOU LOOK SO HANDSOME!”
Wes winced. “I feel like an idiot. This is stupid. Terrible idea. Why am I doing this?”
“Because you love that girl, and you want her in your life.”
“But it’s her sister’s wedding. I shouldn’t distract her from that. She’s the maid of honor. She—”
“It’s a symbol, remember? You are the one who came up with the idea.” Mom straightened his tie, and it was like a creepy version of prom. For a thirty-one-year-old man and his mother fixing his tie.
“I should drop you off at the airport. I should—”
“Oh, stop with your excuses. I have a rental car, and I know I’ve outstayed my welcome. Besides, you’ll want an empty house tonight.”
“Unless she says no,” Wes muttered, but Mom nudged him toward the door.
“How could she resist you? She probably won’t even recognize you.”
Wes ran a hand over his clean-shaven jaw. He’d done it yesterday, and it still felt so weird and uncomfortable and naked. Which was pretty in keeping with how he’d felt since he’d hatched this idiotic plan.
He stared at the door. Why was he doing this stupid, stupid thing? Well, the answer to that was pretty straightforward. Cara.
He wanted her back. He’d reached the point where he’d do anything, anything to get that. Show up uninvited at her sister’s wedding. Talk to her family. Ask her to be there for his surgery. He’d do anything. Anything.
Even if it all made him feel ill. “You sure you’re okay getting to the airport on your—”
“I love you, sweetie. Now go get ’em. And call me tomorrow.” She walked up behind him and gave him a push.
But Wes stood there and took a deep breath. If he was brave enough to face Cara at her sister’s wedding, he had to be brave enough to do this. He turned back to Mom. “Thank you would never be enough. I don’t mean for this visit. I mean forever.”
She held her hands to her heart, then cleared her throat and managed a wobbly smile. “You have no idea how much that means to me, baby.”
He walked stiffly over to her, feeling awkward, but he pushed through it. That was going to be the norm today. Force through awkward. He enveloped her in a hug. “I love you. I’ll miss you.”
She sniffled into his shoulder. “I’ll miss you, too.” She pulled away and patted his face. “Now go get your girl, and we’ll visit again soon. Whether you want to or not.”
He nodded and walked for the door. Phantom followed him out to the porch and whined when he gave the stay command. Wes bent down, trying to keep from getting too much dog hair on his suit.
“I’m okay, boy. Hopefully I’ll be a lot more okay when I get back.” He didn’t want to think about if she said no or told him to go to hell. So, he wouldn’t. Because he’d keep fighting, keep working to prove to her he wanted it all. That they deserved it all.
He got in his truck and drove into town, then through it toward the Pruitt farm. He ran a hand over his short hair a few times, frustrated that it wasn’t long enough to scratch his fingers through.
There were hay bales and signs with arrows to the Pruitt-Wainwright wedding, and Wes followed them, wishing he could turn around and bolt.
But Cara was at the end of this particular obstacle, and for some reason, the possibility of her made everything necessary. Even with the sickness churning in his gut, he couldn’t imagine running away.
He pulled his truck next to a line of cars and trucks on the side of a big red barn. It looked freshly painted; ribbons, lights and all kinds of decorations in white and green decorated the lawn and barn opening.
What do you think you’re doing, man?
No damn clue, but he got out of the truck and walked, if a little stiffly, toward the bright white dress in the throng of people. He scanned the crowd for Cara.
Mia and Dell were talking and laughing with people, and Wes hung in the background, keeping a lookout for Cara.
When the group around Mia and Dell moved to enter
the barn, Wes stepped forward, wincing before he even spoke. “Um, Mia, Dell.”
They both looked at him, a little blankly at first. Then Mia’s head cocked. “Wes?”
“Yeah, hi. I’m sorry. I know Cara probably took me off the guest list.”
“Well, yeah.”
“I just—” he took a deep breath and straightened his suit coat “—I need to talk to her. I don’t want to interrupt anything, weddingwise. So, could I borrow her for about five or ten minutes now, or would it be better to wait until later?” He was going to fix this.
“Well, now is fine for me, but it’s up to her if she wants to talk to you,” Mia said, arms crossed.
“O-okay.”
“She’s inside by the photo booth.”
“Great.”
“She says no, you disappear. Got it?”
Wes kind of grimaced an attempt at a smile at Dell. “Sure. Yeah.” Maybe.
He wiped sweaty palms on his thighs and stepped into the barn. There were lights hanging from rafters, more white and green. Hay bales tied with ribbons. Music and laughter and people.
He was going to be sick, he was pretty sure. But he still scanned the barn for the photo booth and Cara. He stopped midstride for a second when he did see her. Her dress was the same color green as the decorations. Her shoulders were bare, her hair was all curly and down, and he forgot about feeling sick or nervous. Because he wanted to make things right. And he would. He’d do anything to make it right.
She was taking an older couple into the photo booth when he finally got to her. She was giving them instructions on how to use it, so he stood there like an idiot. Waiting.
When she was done, she turned to him all smiles. “Did you want to get in li—” She stopped when her eyes met his, her smile melting into openmouthed shock. “Oh, my God, your beard is gone.”
* * *
CARA REACHED OUT to touch his face and the long white scar along his jaw before she remembered. Oh, yeah, they were broken up. What the hell was he doing here looking all gorgeous with the short hair and the no beard and the suit, and, good God, who was he?
“What are you—”
“Um, I asked Mia first. If it was all right.”