by Noelle Adams
“So what happened?”
Micah obviously didn’t know. She’d told her parents, but she’d asked them not to share the details, so no one else in Willow Park knew why the engagement had been broken.
It made her feel stupid and embarrassed, but there didn’t seem to be any good reason not to tell Micah the truth. “We didn’t have the same views on…on the role of women. In marriage. And out of it, really.”
He looked surprised and glanced at her. “What were his views?”
She sighed. “He didn’t want me to work outside the home. He thought I was responsible for all the housework. He wanted me to homeschool our kids. I’m actually not opposed to that, but I think it should be a decision both of us make, given our circumstances at the time. He didn’t want us to use any sort of birth control.” She shuddered, thinking of some of their arguments. “It’s not like there’s anything intrinsically wrong with those views. I know a lot of great people have them. But I didn’t have them. And he thought I should just change my views to match his. It wasn’t even a discussion. It was series of instructions I was supposed to follow. I couldn’t live like that.”
“Of course, you couldn’t.” Micah was scowling. “He sounds like an ass.” He glanced back hurriedly at Cara, who was still asleep. “You didn’t know any of that about him when you were dating?”
“I knew he was more conservative than me, but I assumed we’d work through the differences. Compromise.” She gave a huff of laughter. “I was stupid. I’ve been stupid a lot.”
“What are you talking about?” His scowl got even deeper. “It was obviously his fault.”
“No.” Before Micah could object, she hurried on, “I mean, he was not everything he should have been in our relationship, but I was the one who ignored all the signs I’d had from the beginning that the relationship wasn’t going to work. I always do that. I put on these blinders because I want a relationship to work, and I end up making bad decisions and then getting crushed because I misinterpret what’s really going on in a man’s head. And heart.”
She hadn’t really meant to say all that, and she twisted her hands in her lap anxiously when Micah didn’t respond right away.
Finally, he murmured, “You’re trusting. That’s a good thing.”
“It’s not when you trust the wrong man.”
He shook his head. “The man should live up to your trust.”
She cleared her throat, trying desperately to keep her fourth rule and not read anything into that comment that wasn’t actually said. “Anyway, sometimes it’s not about trust. Sometimes it’s about investing in a relationship that doesn’t actually exist, one I just make up in my head, based on reading things into it that aren’t there. That’s kind of what happened with Jeff. We dated in college, and I don’t know if he was ever really serious about it. But he kept asking me out, and in my mind it had to be serious, so I kept acting like it was. Then, when it was almost time to graduate, I cornered him because he hadn’t said anything about the future. I really think he was expecting for the relationship to just end naturally when we left college, but I kept asking about it so he said marriage was in our future. So then we were engaged, but I’m not sure he ever actually wanted it.”
“That definitely sounds like his fault and not yours. If he wanted to break up, then he should have just done it.”
“Yeah. I agree. But I was an idiot for investing in the relationship when he never did anything to pursue it himself. But I did. All through college and grad school. We lived in different cities for grad school, so it really was a relationship entirely in my head. Finally, I think he found another woman who came on stronger than I did, so he could be even more passive. He dumped me for her. I was such a little idiot.”
“Don’t call yourself that. He was your fiancé. You were allowed to trust him.” He stared at the road, shaking his head. “I had no idea that’s what happened with your engagements.”
Alice was sure people had talked about it in Willow Park, but she wouldn’t have assumed Micah would have given it a second thought. “What did you think happened?”
“I don’t know. People said you weren’t the one who ended them, but I didn’t believe that. I couldn’t imagine two different men would have been engaged to you and then just chosen to...” He trailed off.
Alice swallowed hard, forcing herself not to read too much into that comment.
“Anyway,” she made herself say, “the good thing is they ended before we actually got married.”
“Were you—” He broke off the question and rephrased. “It had to be hard, to have engagements end that way.”
“Yeah. It was.”
“Do you miss them? Either one?”
She thought about that. “Not as much as I would have expected,” she admitted at last. “It sounds terrible, but mostly I’m glad to be rid of them.”
She’d been looking at the mountain scenery out her window, but she glanced over to see if Micah thought she was a cold bitch for not missing her lost fiancés.
To her surprise, she caught what looked like a little smile on his face.
She had no idea what would explain that, and her rules wouldn’t let her speculate.
***
They arrived at the campus early, so they got coffee at a nearby fast food and sat in the SUV waiting until it was time for Alice to head to the office where she was supposed to make an appearance. The interview would last at least a couple of hours, since it involved several different meetings and conversations, so Micah and Cara were going to a building supply place in Asheville that he said stocked antique fixtures he couldn’t find anywhere else. He told her to call and let him know if she was done earlier or later than expected.
The interview went well. She had good answers to all the questions, and the people she met were all kind, intelligent, and interesting. The time flew, and she was surprised when she realized it was noon when she walked out of the building.
She was pulling out her phone to call Micah when she saw him on a blanket on one of the wide green lawns nearby. Cara was in her carrier, clapping her hands at the two female college students who’d stopped by to ooh and ah over the baby.
Or maybe over Micah.
Alice headed over and knelt down to the grass beside him, hiking up her skirt slightly in the process.
“How did it go?” Micah asked, waving half-heartedly at the girls who left as soon as Alice arrived.
“It was fine. Good, I think. What are you all doing?”
“We were trying to have a picnic.” Micah gestured at the bowl of infant cereal he’d evidently tried to feed Cara, but most of which was flung over the blanket.
Alice chuckled and adjusted her position so she was closer to the baby.
“Do you want to try?” he asked, handing her the spoon.
She took it immediately and spooned out a little cereal, guiding it toward Cara’s mouth. The baby smacked her lips around it and got a little into her mouth.
Micah frowned. “She eats it a lot better from you.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
He took the spoon from her hand again and tried to feed Cara a bite. The baby flapped her arms and knocked the spoon, flinging the cereal so far it landed on the grass past the blanket.
“See. I told you.”
Alice couldn’t help but laugh at Micah’s aggrieved expression and Cara’s flailing enthusiasm. “I’m sure it’s not personal. I’ve been feeding her a lot. Try it again.”
He gave an exaggerated sigh and spooned out more cereal. “So the interview was okay? How did you feel about it?”
“Everything went smoothly. Everyone seemed nice. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.”
“Did you get a sense of whether you’d—” His question was interrupted when Cara grabbed the spoon from his hand, waving it around with complete disregard to the food it had been holding.
It wasn’t holding the food anymore. The cereal landed with a splat on Micah’s chin.
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Alice burst into laughter at his expression.
He gave her a narrow-eyed glare. “Don’t encourage her.”
“Sorry.” Alice tried to restrain her giggles, but was mostly unsuccessful. “Cara, be a good girl and eat for your daddy.”
Cara babbled out a response that was made up mostly of repeated “ga” and “ah” sounds.
“That’s right,” Alice said, as if she’d understood the words. “Your daddy is doing the best he can, given the circumstances, so you should show him a little pity.”
Cara’s eyes were now following the spoon which Micah had retrieved and was guiding toward her little mouth. She flung out her arm, but he was watching for it this time, and he maneuvered the spoon around it. She deigned to take the spoonful, spitting out only half of it.
“Very good,” Micah murmured, his voice warm and his eyes fixed on his daughter. “That was kind of a bite.”
“It was a good bite,” Alice argued. “Don’t raise the bar too high for her.”
Cara took a few more bites, which seemed to please Micah inordinately. Then she grabbed the spoon again and, because Micah was leaning toward her, she flapped it toward his face.
“Ouch,” Micah said gently, taking the spoon out of her hand. “We don’t use the spoon to wallop daddy on the nose.”
Alice felt a sudden wave of emotion—warm, tender, completely unfamiliar because the feeling had nothing to do with her at all.
She wondered if there was any way Micah would be able to let Cara go, now that he’d learned to love her.
***
A few hours later, Micah pulled the SUV into the driveway of his house.
Cara was sound asleep in her seat, and Alice had drifted into a light doze herself for the last hour.
She was startled and disoriented when she realized they’d arrive home. Then she felt a little embarrassed for falling asleep. “Oh, sorry,” she said, straightening up quickly and smoothing back the thick curls that had slipped out of the knot.
“What are you sorry for?”
“For falling asleep. Not very good company.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to entertain me.” He hadn’t yet gotten out of the car. He was just looking at her with that same quiet expression she saw so often.
“Oh. Okay.” Feeling awkward and uncertain, Alice busied herself with slipping on her shoes and grabbing her purse and Cara’s bag.
Micah got out and leaned into the back seat to unlatch the baby seat from the base.
Alice walked around to stand next to him. “I can come in and get Cara fed and changed.”
Micah set the carrier on the ground and took the baby bag from Alice’s hand. “You’re tired. I can do it. You should just relax for the rest of the day. You don’t have to work.”
“Oh. Okay.” She lowered her eyes, not saying anything because it felt strange to admit that feeding and changing Cara didn’t really feel like work to her.
“So how do you feel about things?” Micah asked, his voice sounding a little strange—stretched or something.
Her eyes shot up, suddenly terrified he’d seen through her. “About…Cara?”
He gave a huff of dry amusement and looked off to the side for a moment. “No. About the interview, I meant. Do you think you’d like to work at that college?”
“I don’t know. I guess. The people seemed nice.”
“And the job?”
She didn’t know why he sounded so diffident, but it was making her feel rather flustered. “It sounds like the kind of job I’m looking for. But they might not hire me, you know.”
“But they might.”
“Yeah. I suppose.” She swallowed hard, wanting to look down and hide her expression but compelled to keep gazing up at Micah’s handsome, hesitant face.
“Why do you sound like you don’t think they will? Didn’t the interview go okay?”
“Yeah. Of course. But things haven’t exactly been falling in my lap lately, so I’ve gotten so I don’t expect good things to happen.”
His odd hesitance transformed into a frown. “Why wouldn’t good things happen for you?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I know theoretically they could. But it just feels like…” She felt too vulnerable admitting such a thing, so she trailed off and looked down at the ground again.
He lifted her chin with one hand so she was meeting his eyes. “It feels like what?”
“I don’t know. It sounds silly, I’m sure, but it just sometimes feels like the world is taunting me with…with…” She thought for a moment for an appropriate analogy. “…with a big basket of beautiful flowers, making me think they could be mine. But then, when I reach out for them, all I get is a broken dandelion.”
Micah was frowning again. “Why would you think that? Because you lost your job and those fiancés proved themselves to be ass—” He broke off, glancing down guiltily at Cara. “Jerks.”
“Not just that. It’s just…everything.” She couldn’t really explain, not without admitting too much. You could hardly to admit to the man in question that the big basket of flowers you really wanted was him and his daughter.
“I’m sure there will be flowers for you, Alice.” His voice had changed, gotten soft, almost rough.
She felt shaky and emotional, and she was afraid to look at his face. For some reason, she instead focused on his broad shoulders, the way his shirt stretched over the lines of his chest and abdomen.
Suddenly, she wanted to touch him. So powerfully the feeling swept through her. She couldn’t remember ever feeling that way before.
Then she realized she was touching him. She’d reached without realizing it and put a hand lightly on his chest.
“All kinds of flowers,” he went on, thicker than before. He raised a hand to cover the one she rested on his chest. “And much better ones than dandelions. You deserve so much more than that.”
She couldn’t resist the urge to look up then, and her breath hitched when she saw his expression. He looked like he meant what he said. Like there was rich feeling almost tangible in his expression.
She drifted toward him unconsciously, wanting to be close to him in every way, wanting to feel his body, his lips, his heart, in a way she’d never wanted to feel a man before.
Even more than she’d ever wanted to feel the boy she’d known in summer camp.
Then Cara made a funny little sound as she started to wake up, and Micah released a strange shuddering breath. He lowered her hand from his chest and pulled his own hand away.
“I better get her in,” he said, his tone still strangely thick but very different now. He’d turned away from her as he leaned to pick the baby up.
“Yeah,” she said to his back. “Thanks for driving me.”
“No problem. Have a good night.”
And then he was walking into the house, carrying the carrier and the baby bag, leaving Alice alone with a lot of lingering feelings—some physical and some emotional—and nothing at all to do with them.
She gave a silent, bitter laugh as she walked up the stairs to her apartment. What else would she have expected?
Another broken dandelion.
Six
The dinner at Daniel and Jessica’s had been rescheduled from last Friday to the next Friday because Daniel had to do a funeral the previous week.
Alice arrived at their lovely old house at exactly six o’clock, which was when Jessica had told her to come. She’d gone to her parents’ house from work to get the salad bowl she needed and had just made the salad there so she wouldn’t be late.
She knocked, wrapping one arm around her salad bowl to hold it steady.
“It’s open,” Daniel called out from inside. “Come on in.”
She opened the door and was greeted by a big, pure white, long-haired dog.
“Well, hello,” she said to the dog, who wagged its tail happily and then sat down, obviously expecting to be petted.
Alice obliged, laughing when the dog panted enthusiastically and
then jumped up and turned a couple of circles.
“It’s okay, honey,” she heard from what must be the kitchen. She recognized Daniel’s voice. “No one is going to care.”
“It’s not okay. It’s terrible. I can’t ask anyone to eat it!” That was Jessica, and she sounded very upset about something.
“It tastes fine. It really does.”
“But the consistency—” Jessica broke off as Alice stepped hesitantly into the kitchen. “Come in,” Jessica said. “Sorry. I was just having a minor food catastrophe.”
“Oh.” Alice looked at the food in question—a loaf of bread that had just been sliced. “It looks good. Did you make it yourself?”
“Yes!” Jessica wailed, wiping her hands on her pants. “That’s why it’s a disaster.”
Daniel was leaning against the counter, laughing uninhibitedly.
Jessica swatted at him. “Stop laughing at my trauma and go take the salad from Alice.”
He grinned and winked at Alice as he took the salad bowl, as instructed. “Ooh,” he said, looking down in the bowl. “Are those strawberries”
“Yeah. I tried to dress the salad up some.”
“Thank you so much for making it.” Jessica cut a little chunk of the bread and handed it to her. “You’re a lifesaver. Now try this and tell me if it’s edible.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Alice said, popping the piece in her mouth. When the taste was good, she nodded and mumbled, “Mm hmm.”
“Just wait,” Jessica warned, while Daniel laughed some more.
Alice chewed. And chewed. And chewed. And chewed. And finally managed to swallow. At Jessica’s mournful look, she said, “It tastes good. It’s just a little…chewy.”
“Nice try,” Daniel said, elbowing her in a friendly way. “But she’s not going to believe you.”
“I’ve already called Micah and told him to pick up a loaf on his way over. So we won’t be breadless.” Jessica leaned over to peek in the oven. “Hopefully the roast turns out all right.”
“Well, if it’s as chewy as the first one you made, at least it will match the bread.” Daniel sidestepped out of the way when Jessica tried to swat him with a hot pad. He was grinning as he grabbed the hot pad and then grabbed Jessica in a quick hug.