When You Least Expect

by Lydia Rowan

  Still…

  It had been nice. Matt had been nice. And he’d been very gracious about her having to leave before she’d fixed the car. Maybe she could think of a way to thank him.

  Chapter Two

  The next morning, Matt was surprised to see a visitor sitting on his front steps, but he probably shouldn’t have been.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, BB?” Matt said as he sat next to Blakely Bishop the way he had so many times before. She shifted to look at him, her face serious. One look at her expression and Matt knew that his hope that she’d somehow forgotten what today marked was futile.

  “I thought you’d forgotten. I certainly try to,” he said.

  “You can’t forget, and I won’t either.”

  She put a hand on his knee and then looked at him with such sympathy and hurt, he wanted to turn away. That look, the sympathy in it, was as much a memento of what he’d lost as anything else, and he was suddenly exhausted and looking forward to today less than he had been before, and he hadn’t been looking forward to it at all.

  “Have you been?” she asked.

  “No. Car’s in the shop, so I thought I might skip this year.”

  In truth, though unexpected, not having his car had proven a plus. There was no one he would call to accompany him on this task, and he told himself that without transportation there was no way he could go.

  “Well, good thing I’m here,” she said, giving him a pat on the leg that was half-patronizing, half-consoling and one that drew a reluctant smile. Then she stood, looking down at him expectantly.

  Quintessentially Blake, and annoying as hell. He didn’t need or want her pity or her pushiness, but she wouldn’t budge and he didn’t want to sit on his stoop all day. So Matt exhaled, then stood and followed her toward her car, wanting to resist, yet feeling compelled.

  Every year he’d been home he’d done this, but the few moments that led up to the drive never got any easier. He opened the door and noticed the small bouquet on Blakely’s seat. She got in and then waited patiently, looking over at him. Lips pressed in a thin line, Matt grabbed the flowers, got in, and waited.

  “This sucks, but I know you’ll regret it if you don’t go,” Blakely said as she pulled off.

  “So you think you still know me?” Matt said, gripping the flowers so tight he thought the stems might snap.

  He instantly regretted the words. Blakely was home, had been trying really hard to make up for the time they’d lost, and she didn’t deserve to be lashed out at.

  “Yes,” she said, not giving any indication that his snide words had fazed her in the least. And to some extent it made sense. They’d been apart for years, but that core of friendship was still there. He knew and based on her actions, Blakely did as well.

  They drove in stony silence.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” she asked when, after what felt like an eternity, they reached their destination.

  He shook his head. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  “Take all the time you need, Matt,” she said.

  He nodded and then got out of the car. She’d been gone for almost three decades, and he still hadn’t fully recovered, so whether he stayed for two minutes or two hours wouldn’t make a difference. That was part of the reason he told himself he wasn’t coming this year. His mother was gone, long, long gone, and this ritual only served to remind him of what she’d missed, of what he’d missed, of the hole that her absence had created in his entire life, of how her loss had changed everything completely. Not something he really ever wanted to think about, but something that couldn’t be avoided, especially not today.

  When he reached the graveside, he brushed a couple of leaves off the grave marker, let his fingers linger over her name. Helene. There had been years where hearing it, thinking of it, had almost brought him to tears, but this year, something was different. For the first time in a while, pain was not his first thought. Instead, he imagined he heard her voice as she laughed about how all the kids had teased her for having an old-lady name.

  “What do you think, Matty?” she’d ask.

  He’d always just laugh, knowing that she was commiserating with him about his rather formal name, so he had no room to judge. Now, he lifted his mouth at the thought. He couldn’t help but wonder how different things would be now if she’d made it, but he quickly changed his mind’s direction. They would’ve been different, but there was no use in dwelling on it. She was never coming back and neither was the family that had died with her in spirit if not in body.

  “Mathias,” his father said, the word broken over the tremor of tears that made his father’s voice waver.

  A glance back revealed the tears that ran down the other man’s face, the heartbreak that had shrouded him for three decades. He straightened and reached out to grip his father’s shoulder. The touch only seemed to intensify the tears, and soon his father was openly weeping.

  Matt was torn. He hated this, but he’d seen it too many times for it to have an effect, something he could admit but that made him ashamed. It felt like a betrayal, like he hadn’t loved her as much as he should have.

  “Call me later, Dad,” Matt said.

  His father nodded, and with one final squeeze of the man’s shoulder, Matt walked away.

  “Drive,” he said before he had both feet inside the car. Reminding him why she’d been his best friend for years, Blakely complied.

  He was stunned into silence, but that silence exploded into pure, brain-melting rage by the time they exited the cemetery.

  “He looked pretty broken up,” she said.

  “Doesn’t he always?” Matt replied.

  Blake looked at him skeptically and then turned her eyes back to the road.

  “What?” he said, pinning her with a stare.

  “I thought you two had made peace.”

  “We have, but he can be exhausting, and never more so than on this day.”

  “It was hard on him,” she said.

  Anger flared again, but Matt swallowed it down. “It was hard on both of us, something he never seemed to realize.”

  “Have you tried to talk to him?”

  “About that? No. What’s past is past, and I don’t think rehashing it will do anything.”

  “Wait a second… You love to rehash. It’s like your purpose for being,” she said.

  Matt chuckled, but the sound soon faded.

  “Even I have my limits. I can’t make him move on, and I won’t suffer with him anymore. When and if he chooses to move on, I’ll support him, but doing it is on him.”

  It sounded harsh, probably was harsh, but Matt meant it. He’d grown up in the shadow of his father’s grief, and he refused to go there again.

  ••••

  “You want to come over for dinner? Cody’s home,” Blakely said a few minutes later as she dropped him off.

  He shook his head. “I’d be bad company.”

  Blakely nodded. “If you change your mind, you know where to find us,” she said.

  He watched her retreating vehicle, thinking about what she’d said. Maybe he needed to do more, try harder. He knew his mom wouldn’t have wanted things to be this way, but even after all these years, he had no clue how to reach his father. And, he could admit, he resented the man. He’d been a little boy who needed his father, and while his dad may have loved him, he’d never been able to look past his own grief and actually raise him. On some level, Matt had always known it wasn’t his dad’s fault, and his own need to help others with similar issues had pushed him into psychology. But even with that knowledge, Matt still sometimes struggled to move past it all, and on days like today, he barely even tried.

  That true but saddening thought in mind, Matt stared up at his house.

  It was beautiful.

  Through hard work, which mostly amounted to picking the right contractor and paying out the nose for repairs, the place had been restored to its former glory. Where before there had been
rot, there was now whitewashed wooden siding that practically glowed when the light hit it right. The cracked stone steps that had had weeds growing in them had been replaced and were now perfect, just as they’d been when he was a child. Before she’d left.

  A part of him wondered why he’d done this, moved back into the house that he’d grown to hate and then invested a rather large amount of his hard-earned money into restoring it. But today was a reminder, and this time a positive one. When he looked at it like this, he could almost see himself as a little boy running up the stairs, Blake tagging behind him. Could almost hear his mom’s voice, see the affection on her face when she greeted him.

  It was silly, he knew. She’d died when he was eight, and he halfway believed all the memories he had were figments of his imagination, dreams or wishes he’d convinced himself were reality. But then again, when he’d first moved back here, walked past the house, empty, desolate, in disrepair and as neglected as he’d been growing up, it had cut him to the core.

  Maybe that was the answer, he thought as he headed up the stairs. He couldn’t have left it as it was, but maybe repairing the house made him feel closer to his mother, was a reminder to himself, and to her, wherever she was, he hadn’t forgotten her, that he wouldn’t let the grief that had lived in those walls and the sadness that had been apparent with one look at the house for so many years be the last testament to her.

  “Matt?”

  He whirled at the sound, surprised that he’d been so caught up in his own thoughts he hadn’t heard anyone approach. And to his further surprise, his heart gave a little lurch when he saw Ariel Mallick turn into his driveway.

  She got out of his car and then walked around to the passenger door to let Dani out.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but we had a few minutes and I wanted to get this back to you,” she said when she’d gotten the girl out of the car.

  Though she was sexy, the tight jeans and tank she wore showing off her figure, her expression made her seem nervous, almost shy, quite the departure from their last meeting. Matt wondered what accounted for the change but the more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn’t like it. He felt the furrow in his brow deepen with the thought, and at the sight of Ariel’s wary eyes, he tried to smooth his expression.

  “Hey, Dr. Matt!” Dani called, seemingly oblivious to the moment passing between him and Ariel.

  “Hey, Dani,” he said, unable to stop the smile at her enthusiastic greeting, and as he spoke, he walked toward them. “How are you today, pretty girl?” he asked when he reached them, his eyes drifting to Ariel as he spoke.

  “Good! We went to the park today, and then we came over here,” Dani said.

  “That was very nice of you,” he said, smiling down at the girl and then returning his gaze to her mother. “Thank you, Ariel, but there was no need to go to the trouble.”

  “No trouble at all,” she said, seeming a little more settled than she had moments ago.

  “Well, how much do I owe you?”

  “No charge,” she said, waving her hand. “I patched the tire, so it’s fine. And the pull you were feeling was a branch that had gotten wedged over the axle. I got it out, so it should be working perfectly now.”

  “You’ve exceeded my mechanical knowledge, but you promised I was in good hands, so that all sounds good. I appreciate it,” he replied, his voice dropping a bit.

  “No problem. It seemed neighborly,” she said, her smile now bright.

  He nodded, and then they stood staring at each other awkwardly, Dani running in little circles while still clinging to her mother’s hand.

  “Well—”

  “Would—”

  They both laughed out loud at the simultaneous conversation and then with a smile that made her positively luminescent, Ariel continued. “We don’t want to keep you. Have a nice day.”

  “Mommy,” Dani whispered and then she glanced up at Matt, to which they both again laughed.

  “I’ll give you ladies some privacy,” he said and then quickly jogged up the steps to wait on the porch.

  Matt kept his gaze averted but could barely keep from laughing as he listened to the conversation.

  “I gotta go,” Dani said in a whisper so loud they probably heard it in Charlotte.

  Ariel, much better at lowering her voice, murmured something to her daughter.

  “I can try, but I really gotta go,” Dani said, voice urgent.

  Ariel whispered something else and then called out, “Matt, I’m sorry to intrude, but may we use your bathroom?”

  He turned then, again struck by Ariel’s beautiful smile and how adorably bashful Dani looked.

  “Of course,” he said, tilting his head toward the front door. “Right this way.”

  They ambled up the porch, and Matt showed them to the guest bathroom, one that he’d added during his remodel. Ariel thanked him again and then Matt headed toward the kitchen to wait. It had only been a few minutes, but that time with Ariel and Dani had totally distracted him, taken away thoughts of the past, of pain, and left only the easy excitement of being around Ariel and her daughter and talking about car repair.

  A wondrous thing, but one that left him confused. This simple little visit, less than two minutes of chatter shouldn’t have had the power to affect him so deeply, especially not today, but it had, and as he waited for them to return, he searched his mind for an answer, one that did not seem to be forthcoming. He helped people sort through their thoughts and emotions daily, but figuring out his own was proving elusive.

  “What do you say?” Ariel whispered as she and Dani approached the kitchen, her soft voice breaking into his thoughts.

  “Thank you, Dr. Matt!” the little girl called, voice ringing loud in a house that had been quiet, almost tomblike for more years than Matt cared to recall. It had sounded right though, that childish voice in the house—had given it a brief spark of life that had been missing for far too long.

  “Do you ladies have plans?” Matt asked, surprising himself as he spoke.

  “Nothing exciting,” Ariel said. The words were nonchalant, but Matt thought he saw an ember of excitement in her eyes.

  “Would you like to stay over for an early dinner?” he asked, trying to maintain his own cool but feeling hopeful and excited.

  “We wouldn’t want to be a bother,” Ariel said. She moved a few steps closer but her voice didn’t change, and Matt couldn’t tell if she was genuinely not interested or just being polite. Ordinarily, he’d have left it at that, but for some reason, he felt the urge to clarify.

  “No bother. Not at all.”

  He watched Ariel, trying to divine some idea of what she was thinking.

  “We’d love to,” she said, the ember in her eyes sparking as bright as the smile now covering her face.

  Matt felt twin surges of excitement and relief.

  “Great! Dani, do you want to be my helper?”

  Chapter Three

  “Thanks for inviting us to dinner, Matt. Sorry about the surprise visit, but we had a great time. Didn’t we, Dani?”

  The girl gave her mother an excited thumbs-up and then ran around the backyard, as she had been since she’d been excused from the table.

  “Energetic, huh?” he said, tilting his head toward Dani.

  “You have no idea. She has a new backyard to explore, which only fuels that fire. But I can see why,” Ariel said as she scanned the backyard.

  Matt watched and for a moment he wished it was him that she was looking at with such naked appreciation.

  “It’s beautiful. I mean just gorgeous.”

  “Thanks. My mom’s pride and joy.”

  Ariel’s brows knitted in confusion and she turned to him. “Your mother lives here?”

  “In spirit only. She passed away when I was eight,” he said.

  “I’m sorry,” Ariel said, casting her eyes down, a pained expression on her face.

  Matt was such an ass. He knew about Ariel’s loss and that losing a spouse
, especially at her age, was entirely different than losing a parent, especially since so much time had passed.

  “It was a long time ago, so don’t apologize. In fact, I should be the one apologizing.”

  Her expression slackened and some of the ease that had been growing between them returned. “So we’re both sorry, huh?” she said, the corner of her lips turned up.

  “Looks that way,” he said, now smiling as well.

  There was a flicker in her eyes, and she looked wistful. Matt could pretty well guess what she was thinking about.

  “Every person in this town loved Daniel Mallick,” Matt said, not taking his eyes off her.

  And they had. Preacher’s son, football star, all-around great guy, and taken far too soon in a tragic helicopter crash.

  “So I’ve learned. Did you know him?” she asked.

  “Well, everybody knows everybody here, but he was a little behind me in school, so we weren’t friends or anything. I think Verna knew him, though.”

  Ariel nodded. “She did, even showed me her yearbook.”

  Matt chuckled. “What did you have to pay her for that?”

  She smiled faintly. “It was easier than I’d thought it would be, but then again, most everyone in town still goes out of their way. It’s part of the reason I stayed,” she said.

  “And the other part?” he asked, letting curiosity get the better of him.

  She tilted slightly to look out to Dani, who was digging in a soft patch of dirt with a small gardening shovel. “I guess I just wanted her to be as close to him as she could, you know? Like maybe if she was in his town with his people, she might have at least some idea of who he was.” Then she smiled, her face brightening. “Not to mention the fact, Matilda would drag the reverend to west Zanzibar if necessary to be close to Dani.”

  “I’ll bet. And it’s kind of you to consider them, especially since Matilda can be…”

  “Merciless? Relentless? Hell on wheels?” she supplied.

  “Challenging,” Matt settled on.

  Ariel laughed out loud and then took a sip of water. “Well said, Dr. Matt. I spend too much time at the shop to practice putting things as delicately as that, but you got the point. And besides,” she said, going slightly wistful again, “I don’t do it for Matilda. I do it to honor Daniel’s memory and for Dani. She’s more important than anything else, and I can put up with Matilda’s bluster for my baby girl.”