Addie Gets Her Man (A Chair At The Hawkins Table Book 6)

by Angel Smits

  Why hadn’t she seen it? She took a step. And then another. Those eyes. She blinked hers to keep them clear. That chin. They were so familiar.

  “How—” She could barely think, much less compose sentences.

  “At computer camp last summer.” Ryan glanced sideways, warily, at his father. “One of the guys who’d been there before. He showed me how to hack into places.”

  “Like sealed court records?” she whispered.

  He simply nodded.

  “After Mom died—” Ryan looked at her then “—I wanted to find you.”

  “What’s going on?” Marcus yelled, though she saw the realization in his eyes.

  Marcus stared at the paper. She didn’t need to see it. She’d seen it too many times—every time she opened the blue box on her bedroom closet.

  “You knew about this?” He shook the page at her again.

  “I—” She shook her head. What was he asking? Of course she knew about her child. “Yes.”

  No one else here knew about—this. Mom had been the only one she’d ever confided in. Addie thought her secret had died with Mom.

  Anger contorted Marcus’s handsome features. “I don’t know what you’re up to.” His voice was deep and menacing. “But Ryan is my son. You have no rights to him. You gave them up.”

  “Dad!” The confusion and hurt in Ryan’s voice cut through her. She’d hurt him enough. Dear God. This was—she turned and took a step toward him—her son.

  All this time she’d remembered the baby, mourned the infant. She’d never thought of him as growing up. That would have made it unbearable. Would have driven her slowly crazy.

  “Don’t even think about it.” Marcus stepped forward, between her and Ryan, his broad frame blocking the boy from her view. “Ryan, get your things. We’re leaving.”

  “But Dad—”

  “No buts. Now!” His voice echoed through the house.

  Ryan stood there a long minute, then turned, and the sound of his slow steps on the stairs told her he’d left.

  She didn’t move. She couldn’t. Her body was frozen in place. She looked at Marcus and, like a kaleidoscope, every last detail of tonight spun around her. She loved him. Her heart hurt for him, for Ryan, for herself. For all of them.

  His eyes filled with anger and so much more. Pain. Betrayal. Fear. He’d never believe her now if she told him how she felt. Anything she’d say now would seem like a desperate excuse to get to Ryan. And while she wanted that desperately, she wanted—needed—Marcus, too. A sharp ache hit her deep in the chest. “Marcus, please—”

  “I don’t want or need to hear it. I’ve had enough of lies and secrets. Save it, Addie.”

  His anger was justified, she knew that. But it also hit a nerve she didn’t know she had. He wasn’t the only one surprised here. “No, I’m not going to save it.” She stepped closer to him, her own anger loosening the pain’s grip. “You don’t get to be the only one angry here.”

  “Don’t I?” He threw his hands in the air, then stepped closer, menacingly close. “What was last night all about, then?” His eyes sparked with pain and anger. “All that sharing? Where was this little secret in all that?”

  Memories washed over her like sandpaper, rough and painful. “Last night was about common ground. About you and I connecting. You lost Carolyn. I lost Cal. Shared grief.”

  He had the grace not to say anything. Maybe he was actually listening and considering her words.

  She took a deep breath, trying to contain her own hurt and anger and think straight. “Your having a son isn’t a part of common ground. I don’t have that.”

  “Apparently, you do.” She saw the anger, but she also saw the pain in his eyes.

  His mother’s warnings rang in her mind. Donna had said Skylar men were lousy at relationships. She’d warned her they always walked away.

  No, she’d been wrong.

  She’d been—Addie mentally cursed—too right.

  Marcus came out of the house then, taking Ryan to the Jeep—and away.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ADDIE HUDDLED ON the porch swing. She didn’t know how long she’d been there. No one had come near her all morning, and she’d noticed only a few things around her. The creak of the swing’s ancient chain. The whisper of the breeze. The movement of the sun.

  Finally, the screen door squawked open. She didn’t look up. She barely moved, except to breathe. The familiar, confident footsteps told her it was Wyatt. Her heart sank. What must he think of her? She curled her arms even tighter around her knees and leaned her head against the swing back.

  The silence hurt to listen to. “What...what do you want?” she whispered.

  Her big brother cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”

  God, she loved him. Looking over at him, not lifting her head, she said, “I don’t know.”

  The silence returned. Wyatt pulled one of the old wooden chairs closer to the swing and sat. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Finally, he asked the question that hurt. “How come you never told us?”

  Addie closed her eyes, fighting the burn. “Mom knew.” Right now, her heart hurt, missing her mother, missing the hug that Mom would have gladly given her. “We talked endlessly about what to do.” She remembered the barrage of tears her mother had mopped up. About Cal’s death. About his never knowing. About her decisions to give the baby up for adoption.

  “Until today, he—He was just a baby in my mind.” She knew she wasn’t answering his questions. She didn’t know why she hadn’t told her family.

  “I’m glad Mom knew. That you weren’t alone.”

  He was being too nice. Afraid she’d lose it? She looked at her brother again, and then the hurt and anger inside her exploded. “No. I—Don’t you see?” She swung her legs off the edge of the wooden seat and sat up. “I was selfish. I was ashamed for not being responsible like Dad told me to be,” she yelled.

  Tears streamed from her eyes, and she noticed only enough to shove them away with the back of her hand. “Until today, it never crossed my mind that I’d given up Elizabeth and Dutch’s grandchild. I never thought of them. Or Mom. All I thought of was me.” She practically spat out the last word.

  “Dad never meant for you to sacrifice for anyone, especially us.” Wyatt wasn’t angry, though there was a note of confusion in his voice that she managed to notice.

  “Dad told me I was the oldest. I had to be responsible. He didn’t ask much. But what he did ask, I failed him.”

  “No, you didn’t.” Wyatt’s anger finally surfaced and brightened his eyes.

  She welcomed it. She was spoiling for a fight, a release to her pain. “Denying it won’t make it less true. I failed.” She shot to her feet.

  “Addie, stop it!” Wyatt barked out the words, startling her. “You are not a failure, and you made a choice. It was the right choice for you. My God, you were what? Eighteen? Nineteen? You were still a kid.”

  “Yeah. A kid who thought she was so grown up.”

  “Real or not, is this why you’ve always put others’ needs before yours? Why you don’t take care of yourself, but mother the rest of to death?”

  She simply stared at him. He and the others were all she had. And they didn’t want her—need her. Shocked by what he said, she stepped back, the swing hitting the back of her knees. She plopped down with a thud that the wooden roof protested. “I—I don’t...”

  “Yes, you do.” Mandy came through the screen door with Tara, DJ and Jason trailing hot on her heels.

  “It’s why we keep telling you to go find your own life. To stop worrying about all of us. We want you to be as happy as you’ve helped us to be.” Tara walked over and did what Addie had wished Mom could do. She slipped her arms around Addie’s trembling shoulders.

  Their words were meant to soothe and calm her pain. But how could
they understand? Her life, as they kept referring to it, was gone. Over. Forever. Cal was dead. She’d tossed Ryan away almost callously, and Marcus—she ached with the sob that got stuck in her throat.

  Images of last night returned, with the impact of a jackhammer, to taunt her. The firelight on his features. The way his lips moved into just that right position to kiss when she’d yanked the flaming marshmallow from the fire to blow on it. The way his arms held her on the dance floor. Of the taste of that singed marshmallow in his kiss. “Oh, God,” she whispered, her hand instinctively reaching up to touch her lips.

  She didn’t dare tell them that she’d fallen in love with Marcus. It was too new for her, and maybe the feeling would go away if she didn’t ever say it out loud. She didn’t need their pity or the platitudes they’d spout to try to ease her broken heart.

  Looking through her damp gaze, she saw the contentment they’d all found. The love they felt was strong around each one of them, for their lives and the families they were building.

  She didn’t want a pity seat at any of their tables.

  “She’s doing it again,” DJ said to Wyatt, like he was that little kid tattling on her.

  “I know.” Wyatt sighed. “Addie. Stop worrying about us.” He tried to make it sound like an order, but failed miserably.

  Didn’t they understand? They were all she had left to worry about. There wasn’t anyone else now.

  * * *

  ADDIE NORMALLY FOUND solace in baking. Over the past two weeks since school let out, since the barbecue at the ranch, since Marcus and Ryan left, she’d filled half her freezer with cookies. She’d be good for months.

  Still, she couldn’t shake the sense of loss and emptiness that followed her. The cookies everyone loved, though, didn’t hold the normal comfort.

  Standing at the counter, the familiar ingredients scattered around her, she didn’t move. She just stared. Now what?

  The battered recipe card had faded to yellow. and, to be honest, she made the recipe from memory anyhow. Leaning forward, she looked at the words. Stains, worn paper and torn edges obliterated half of them.

  Carefully, she touched the card. Peanut butter chocolate chip cookies were a staple in her family, a bridge to the past. But what about the future? She shook her head, banishing that train of thought.

  With a sigh, she gathered all the items and put them back. She did not need to make any more cookies. What she needed to do was get on with life.

  Just then, the doorbell rang. Her heart skipped a beat. After a deep breath, she reminded herself it wasn’t going to be Marcus. She ignored the wave of sadness as she opened the door.

  Ryan stood there.

  “Hi,” she said softly. She hadn’t seen him since the last day of school.

  “Hi.” He gripped the strap of his backpack hard and scuffed a foot against the walk. “How...how are you?”

  “I’m okay. You?”

  He shrugged. “You’re really my mom,” he whispered, though it wasn’t a question.

  “I am.” She waited for him, drinking in the sight of him,

  Silence filled with the sound of the breeze and the late afternoon. She’d wait for him to ask the questions she saw in his eyes.

  “Why did you give me away?”

  She’d spent fourteen years dreading that question. She’d come up with at least a million answers to it. Now that she was faced with the inquiry, all those answers vanished.

  “I know I owe you an answer,” she whispered and pulled the door farther open. “Come in, and I’ll try to answer. It’s not easy,” she admitted.

  Her palms were suddenly damp, and she tried to calm her heart. She could totally screw this up.

  “That’s okay.” He wasn’t angry, which was one of the responses she’d always expected. But he wasn’t happy, either. She led the way to the kitchen. “Are you makin’ cookies?”

  “I decided not to.” Addie smiled. “Want some to take home? I’ve got plenty.” She opened the freezer and pulled out a plastic bag full. She knew she was stalling.

  “Does your dad know you’re here?” She realized she should have asked that earlier.

  “No.” Ryan didn’t meet her eyes. “He’s—”

  “He’s what?” she prodded, wanting to hear about Marcus more than she dared admit.

  “He’s grumpy.” Ryan shrugged. “He won’t like me being here.”

  That wasn’t what she’d expected to hear, and her heart sank. She missed him. Missed both of them. She knew it, and she’d stopped denying it.

  “Call him.” When Ryan glared mutinously at her, she glared right back. “I’m not arguing. I’m happy to talk to you. But I won’t do it behind his back.”

  Ryan frowned but pulled his phone out. He thumbed the screen on and she heard it ring. She waited, slowly using the dishcloth to wipe down the counters as something to distract herself.

  “Hey, Ryan.” Marcus’s voice filled the kitchen, and Addie’s breath hitched. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking it inside. Savoring.

  “Dad,” Ryan said. “I’m over at Addie’s house. She—” He looked over at her. “She said I had to call you and let you know I’m here.”

  The silence was stunned. Finally, he spoke. “You should have asked first.”

  “You’d have said no.”

  “Maybe. But you should have still asked.” The anger was strong in Marcus’s voice. She wanted to ease his pain, but her own anger responded.

  “We’re only going to talk.” She spoke loud enough for Marcus to hear. Ryan responded by hitting the speaker button on his phone.

  “I just want to ask some questions.”

  “You can always ask me,” Marcus offered.

  “You don’t know the answers.” Ryan was growing angry himself.

  “Okay, that’ll do,” Addie cut in. “He’ll be home in a few minutes,” she promised, not wanting to be the one to send Ryan away.

  “That’s acceptable.”

  He was so distant, so stiff. She missed the man who’d been so sweet and wonderful, whom she’d talked with, laughed with, enjoyed so much with.

  “Bye, Dad.” Ryan didn’t wait for his father to respond before pocketing the phone. Addie took her time rinsing out the dishcloth and stretching it over the faucet to dry.

  “He’s not very happy,” Ryan whispered. “But I needed to come see you.”

  “I’m glad you came over.” She tried to smile.

  “Will you tell me? About you? About my—about my father?”

  Addie took a deep breath before stepping closer. She froze for an instant, looking at the boy she’d helped create. “Wait here,” she whispered. Hurrying upstairs, before she could change her mind, she headed to her room. To the closet.

  The box. It was exactly where she’d left it. Clutching it tight, she went back downstairs.

  She forced herself to slow down and consider Ryan, who was leaning against her counter. She owed him an explanation. “Cal Ferguson was your father.” She purposefully didn’t use dad, the term he used for Marcus. It wasn’t appropriate, or fair to Marcus, who really was Ryan’s dad.

  Cal had never even known about Ryan, so he’d never had a relationship with him. “He died before I even knew I was pregnant with you.” She’d never get over the hurt of his not knowing. Still clutching the box, she stopped beside him.

  “I thought about keeping you. I really tried to figure out how I could do it.” Her voice cracked as she remembered the agony of making the biggest decision of her life—at all of eighteen years of age. Sounds of shuffling steps made her look up, and she found Ryan had moved closer, just inches away.

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I finally realized I couldn’t do a good job for you.” Her fingers itched to reach out and touch him. She didn’t dare. She’d promised Marcus she’d send him home soon.
“I was too broken. I hurt too much. I was too young—eighteen, only four years older than you are now.”

  She set the pretty blue box on the counter between them. “I’ve kept so many memories in here,” she said softly. Every item in the box was whole in her mind. “Maybe this will help.” She pushed it toward him.

  Ryan nodded, a frown still on his face, though, as he stared at the box. Time stretched out while she waited, holding her breath. Finally, he opened the lid and stared at the contents. He didn’t do anything more than look.

  “So that lady, Elizabeth, is my grandma?” he whispered.

  Addie nodded, wishing Elizabeth were better. “She’s had a rough time. When Cal died, I think she lost a little bit of her mind.

  “Elizabeth’s heart broke when Cal died.” Addie cleared her throat and spoke a bit louder. “She didn’t mean to hurt you. She just misses him so much.” And Addie understood all too well.

  “So... I have another grandpa?”

  That’s when Addie lost it. Her shoulders shook as she fought the sob that burned up from her heart. Dutch. The man who’d been like a second father to her would be thrilled. He’d love Ryan. He’d—

  Ryan’s phone went off just then.

  Disappointment washed over Ryan’s face. “Bet that’s Dad.”

  “You’re probably right.” She took a deep breath, fighting to control the disappointment that threatened to overwhelm her. “Come on.” She forced herself to shift into principal gear. “I promised you’d head home.” With her hand on Ryan’s shoulder, she nudged him toward the front door.

  “What about...this?” He put his hand on the box.

  “It’s yours now.” The decision felt right. “I don’t think your dad’s ready for it yet.”

  Ryan nodded and headed toward the door. “Yeah.” His voice was full of reluctance. “I can come back?”

  “Any time.”

  Silently, Ryan stepped outside and headed down the walk. She watched him leave.

  And then she saw him. Marcus. Standing across the street, his phone in his hand. Her heart and breath caught.