Making It Right

by Kathy Altman

  “God bless you,” Gil murmured.

  “Thank you.”

  He stared at the keys in his hand, making no motion to fire up the pickup. “What are you feeling?”

  “Overwhelmed. Scared. Excited.” She shot him a sideways glance. “Guilty. You?” When he didn’t say anything, she swallowed hard. “I wanted to want it to be negative. My life’s a mess. Bringing a baby into it would not be doing anyone any favors. But I wanted that negative even more for your sake than mine.”

  He sorted through his keys. “You’re glad you’re pregnant.”

  “As backward as it is, I found myself rooting for a positive result. I’m going to have somebody on my team now. Somebody who will love me unconditionally.”

  “Until they grow up to be a teenager.”

  “Or until they find out I’m a convicted felon. Whichever comes first.”

  He slid the key into the ignition. “I don’t think unconditional love works that way.” He let his hand fall to his thigh. “I’m not disappointed, either.”

  Her stomach flipped in a long, slow cartwheel. “What?”

  “I expected to be. But being responsible for another human being puts a lot of things into perspective. I know it won’t be easy, working out how exactly you and I are going to handle this. But we’ll figure it out. Maybe setting our dreams aside to raise a kid will help us off-load some of that regret we talked about.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “You are staying, aren’t you? Castle Creek’s a friendly place. People care about each other here. They look out for each other.”

  “You sound like a real estate agent.”

  He cast a sideways glance as he started the truck. “I know there’s a lot you want to accomplish here. I’d hate to think you’d let anything—or anyone—chase you out of town.”

  “You’re saying my father won’t take this well. I think you’re right. But who can blame him?” She put on her sunglasses. “I came here to pay what I owe him, and hopefully get him to consider forgiving me. So far I haven’t proven much except I’m open to having sex with strangers.”

  “You’re trying to make it easier for me.” He pulled onto the road. “You want me to dislike you. Or at least make everything about the fact that you’re a felon.”

  “It would make things easier for me, too.”

  “That ship has sailed, don’t you think?”

  Right. Because they’d called a truce.

  She toyed with a button on her sweater. “Now that we know for sure, do you mind if we go by Eugenia’s house before opening the store? I realize it’s early to tell anyone, but knowing she won’t mind if I stay put will take so much of the stress out of planning.”

  “She’s not at the store?”

  “She told me last night that she’d be opening late today. I guess she didn’t want me to worry.”

  “She thinks a lot of you.”

  For whatever reason, she did seem to. What she’d think of this latest development, though, Kerry had no idea. Her throat thickened at the thought of losing Eugenia’s regard.

  “Have you eaten?”

  She blinked at the subject change. “I was too nervous.”

  “There’s a couple of granola bars in the glove compartment. Help yourself.”

  She selected a peanut-butter-flavored bar and savored the first bite. “Thank you. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.” She chewed and swallowed her second bite. “I have to say, you’re taking all of this remarkably well.”

  He shot her a grim smile. “Inside, I’m already halfway through my second fifth of Jack.”

  “January,” she said under her breath. Was that a good month to give birth? She gave Gil a considering glance. “You have any experience in this sort of thing?”

  “If you mean have I ever been pregnant, the answer’s no.”

  “Ha.” The commercial part of the town transitioned to vineyards and roadside produce stands, and the sharp, nostalgic smell of fresh-cut grass sweetened the air. “What I meant was—”

  “I know what you meant.” Gil glanced in the mirror and shifted lanes to pass a hay-laden tractor. “When I was a kid, our cat had two litters of kittens. Does that count?”

  “Of course it does,” Kerry said wryly. “That counts double. Thank you. I feel so much better now. Dr. Dolittle to the rescue.”

  He reached over and squeezed her knee. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine, and to make sure of that I’ll be right there with you, every step of the way.”

  “You will?”

  “Someone has to scratch behind your ears and sing ‘Soft Kitty’ to you.”

  “‘Soft Kitty’?”

  He lifted an incredulous eyebrow. “Sheldon’s lullaby? From The Big Bang Theory?”

  Oh, for God’s sake. “Tell me something. Is there any geek box you haven’t checked?”

  “Not that I know of,” he said contentedly.

  “This baby is in big trouble,” she muttered. But when Gil started whistling an unfamiliar tune, one she assumed was this “Soft Kitty” lullaby, she had to turn her head away so he wouldn’t see the gratitude that dampened her cheeks.

  * * *

  EUGENIA SHIFTED THE picnic basket to her left hand and pulled her front door closed. A small bird erupted from the dried peony wreath on the door and Eugenia shrieked. Hand to chest, she watched the bird—a chickadee, maybe?—dart over to one of the apple trees bordering her property.

  Uh-oh. She stood on her toes and carefully checked out the wreath, but saw no sign of a nest. With regret, she unlocked the door, removed the decoration she’d hung just last week and set it on the table in the foyer. Allowing a family of birds to nest on her front porch would not bode well for the babies. Christopher Robin, her serial killer cat, would not let them survive.

  As a lazy drift of air ruffled her bangs and cheered her with the scent of lake water and pine, she took a quick inventory. Basket, purse, keys, sunglasses, outgoing letter for the mailbox. She had it all.

  Except for courage. She’d left that behind on the kitchen table, in a not-quite-full bottle of Jameson. Indulging in a cup of Irish coffee had seemed the perfect way to prepare for the meeting ahead, but considering the condition of her stomach, she wished she’d skipped the whipped cream.

  Eugenia put her sunglasses back on, slid the envelope into the pocket of her gray linen pants and tugged at the hem of her thin sweater. She was reaching for the handle of the picnic basket when a vehicle appeared at the foot of her driveway.

  Her belly tumbled sideways and she vowed then and there to give up dairy.

  Harris Briggs.

  Six burly feet of lumberjacky deliciousness stepped out of an aged pickup truck, and Eugenia mentally chastised herself for every single time she’d ever rolled her eyes over the word swoon.

  He ambled up to the bottom of the steps, took off his shades and gave her a nod. “Eugenia.”

  “Harris.” She poked her hands into her pants pockets so she could dry her palms. Paper crinkled as she ended up wiping sweat on her letter. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “I can see that.” His face settled into its normal scowl as he eyed the basket at her feet. “Let me guess. Cold chicken, chardonnay and fruit tarts you’ll pretend you made yourself. No blanket, though, since that Vincent character you’re datin’ wouldn’t be caught dead sittin’ on the ground.”

  “‘That Vincent character,’ as you so charmingly call him, has a first name. It’s Sutton. And there is a blanket in there—”

  “Bet you five dollars you won’t be usin’ it.”

  “You’re right. We won’t.”

  Harris grunted, but the sound didn’t carry a lot of triumph.

  Somehow Eugenia resisted the urge to bounce down the stairs and kiss him o
n his hairless, clueless head. She crossed her arms. “Sutton and I won’t be using the blanket,” she said, “because he and I aren’t dating anymore.”

  “What?”

  Eugenia waited patiently while Harris processed that.

  Three. Two. One.

  His face cleared, and he blustered a moment to hide a smile. Then his scowl returned as he started slowly up the stairs. “So, who’s the picnic for?”

  “Before we get into all that...” Eugenia picked up the basket, backtracked to the wrought iron table in the corner of her porch and set the basket in the center. She brushed off a lavender-colored cushion and sat, gesturing at the chair opposite. “Why don’t you have a seat and tell me why you’re here?”

  “Don’t want to make you late.”

  “It’s fine.” Actually, she was early. She’d grown tired of trying to make time go faster by fluttering around the house.

  With a hesitant nod, he joined her at the table. He pulled out a chair and cast a dubious glance at it before gingerly lowering his bulk. When the chair held, his shoulders eased downward. The basket partially obstructed his view across the table so he gave it a shove.

  “I went by the shop,” he said. “Not often you close on a weekday.”

  “Everyone deserves a break now and then,” she said briskly, and hated herself for sounding defensive. Hated herself even more for the thrill that zigzagged through her because he’d come looking for her.

  “I agree.” He gave the basket the side-eye. “And sometimes breaks can last too long.”

  “What are you going on about, old man?”

  “I’m not going on about anything.” His voice was gruff. “Kerry told me she’s livin’ in your apartment.”

  “And you came to tell me that under no circumstances should I allow her to stay there.”

  “No, I came to thank you for looking out for her.”

  Slowly Eugenia sank against the back of her chair. “What?”

  “You offered her a place to live and helped her find a job. I want you to know I appreciate that.”

  “You’re welcome. It’s what you should have done.”

  His cheeks went ruddy. Still he held her gaze. “You’re right, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

  “I’d ask why, but I’m not the one you need to explain yourself to.”

  “I plan to. She invited me to breakfast. I’ll take her up on it sometime soon and we’ll clear the air.”

  “Well, it’s about time.” Waving away a curious bee, Eugenia sat forward. “You should have gone to see her when she was in custody, Harris. At the very least, when she was in home detention. She’s your daughter.”

  “I didn’t want to see her like that.”

  “I’m betting you didn’t bother to explain that to her.”

  His brow furrowed. “I told myself, and her, too, that I resented having to be vetted to see my own daughter. She saw right through that, of course. I took the easy way out and I finally got to thinkin’ that’s why I’ve been so hard on her—because I’m disgusted with myself.”

  Eugenia reached across the table and clasped his hand. Reveled in the sturdy warmth of his grip. Yearned to tug him to his feet and lead him to her bed, where they could remind each other of the companionship and the tenderness and the damned fine orgasms they’d been missing for months.

  But even if Harris stepped up, they still had problems to work through. And the last time they thought they’d worked through them, they’d learned the hard way that they’d only gone around them. Then circled back to pick them up, like a group of dusty, road-weary hitchhikers.

  “Your daughter needs to hear this,” she said gently. “Tell you what.” She patted the basket. “Why don’t you take this to Kerry at Snoozy’s? Share an early lunch before the regulars descend? Save her from eating that god-awful chili?”

  “That where you were goin’? To see Kerry?”

  “No, I was coming to see you.” When he brightened, she held up her free hand, even as her heart shuddered with regret. “Now don’t go mixin’ your pickles with your peppers,” she teased lightly, borrowing one of his favorite expressions. “You might not like what I have to say. I need to make sure you understand that I intend to do everything I can to persuade Kerry to stay here in Castle Creek. Right now, you two have the option of reconciling. What if—” Her gaze dropped to his chest and her fingers tensed around his. The strong, massive chest that protected an ailing heart. She swallowed. “What if something happens and you two never made peace?”

  “Now, don’t go gettin’ your dress over your head. She and I, we will get this figured out.” He shifted in his chair. “Although things got a little complicated the other night.”

  Oh, dear Lord. Eugenia reclaimed her hand and sat back. “Tell me.”

  After Harris related what had happened at Snoozy’s, with Liz and Kerry having words and Liz leaving in tears, Eugenia shook her head. “Something’s going on with that girl. Maybe Liz is feeling overwhelmed. New husband, new baby, new boss?” She hiked her chin at him. “I’ve heard he’s a real hard-ass.”

  “Jackass, you mean. That seems to be your pet name for me these days.”

  Eugenia felt the flush begin at her ankles. “I prefer the one I had before.”

  His nostrils flared. “Me, too.”

  The chickadee came back, wings flapping a gentle beat as it fluttered around the front door in search of its peony perch. After leaving a disappointed deposit on Eugenia’s welcome mat, it darted off again. Harris and Eugenia sat in silence for several moments, breathing in the faint scent of lilac, breathing out sorrow.

  Harris ended the quiet. “Anyways, Liz told me this morning Kerry contacted her. Asked if they could meet for coffee. Sounds like to me she wants to work things out.”

  “Sounds like to me you’re feeling better about the situation.”

  “With Kerry?”

  “Yes,” she said softly. “The situation with your daughter.”

  “I’m feelin’...” He scratched the top of his head. “Confused.”

  “It’s a start. And the fact that you came over today to thank me? I’m impressed.”

  “You shouldn’t be.” His gaze dropped to the porch floor and he shrugged his thick shoulders. “I meant what I said, but bein’ here has just as much to do with us. I’m findin’ it harder and harder to stay away.”

  It was thrilling to hear. At the same time, she’d heard it before.

  When she didn’t respond, he lifted his gaze and lowered his brows. “What? You’re impressed, but you’re not happy?”

  She crossed her legs, heard the rustle of the envelope in her pocket and pulled it out. She smoothed it over her knee. “I’m sad, but not about seeing you. Nothing with us is easy anymore. It won’t ever be easy. We’ve rejected each other so many times that getting one of us to take a chance again is as likely as Parker naming her baby boy after you.”

  Harris bristled. “Parker likes my name just fine. She uses it all the time. You’re the one who likes to get creative with it.”

  Eugenia snickered. “Does she know your middle name is Marion?”

  “Does she know your middle name?”

  Eugenia narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Share this picnic with me—” he tapped a knuckle against the basket “—and I’ll take it to my grave.” When she sucked in a breath, he grimaced. “Sorry, Genie. Poor choice of words.”

  She managed a smile. “Make it up to me by letting me have the extra fruit tart.”

  “Like I was ever going to get it anyways.” He scratched his chin. “Genie?”

  “Yes, Harris?”

  “If there’s a chance I can fix things with Kerry, that means there’s a chance I can fix things with you. If you’re willin’ to try.”<
br />
  The rush of hope in her chest kicked the breath from her lungs and left her dizzy. She’d waited a long time to hear those words. How sweet it would be to let loose their love again, with all their ghosts laid to rest.

  With most of their ghosts laid to rest.

  “Harris, I—”

  The rumble of another engine interrupted her. Another pickup, this one bigger and newer, started up her driveway.

  “By the time we eat, my belly will be kissin’ my spine,” Harris grumbled.

  Eugenia stood and shaded her eyes. “Who is it?”

  “Gil Cooper.” Harris twisted around farther in his chair. “He has Kerry with him.” Grunting, he pushed to his feet. “Why isn’t he at the hardware store?”

  “And why isn’t she at Snoozy’s?” Eugenia dropped the envelope on the table and hurried down the porch steps. Kerry made it out of the truck before Gil did, and uneasiness pricked at Eugenia’s spine as she noted the strain behind the young woman’s smile.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “IS EVERYTHING ALL RIGHT?” Eugenia asked.

  “Yes.” Kerry didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands. “I wanted to discuss something with you, but I can see this is a bad time.”

  Harris thudded down the steps behind them. He and Gil reached the women at the same time but Harris didn’t so much as look at his daughter. “Gil Cooper,” he blustered. “Why are you here?”

  “I’m playing taxi,” Gil responded easily.

  “Well, I’m playing hooky.” Eugenia tugged at Harris’s shirt with a wordless appeal to back off. “We’re about to go on a picnic, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have time for you two. Would you like to come up and sit on the porch? I have some lovely raspberry tea in the refrigerator.”

  “Thanks, Eugenia, but we can’t stay long.” Kerry cast a nervous glance at Gil. “I’m glad you’re both here. I have something to tell you.”

  Gil stepped forward and cupped Kerry’s elbow. “We have something to tell you.”

  It was all Eugenia could do not to squeal with glee and launch into a celebratory dance. But one glance at Harris’s face and she settled for a mental yee-haw and a couple of toe bounces. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to keep Kerry in Castle Creek, after all.