by Maria Carter
"I guess I don't know why I wanted you to know," his deep voice rumbled.
It was Vanessa's turn to feel embarrassed. He wasn't completely off target. He wasn't off target at all. But now she'd made him feel like he was because she was scared. She had every right to be. But it wasn't his fault. She caught up to him in the crosswalk.
"No, I'm glad you told me. Thank you."
They were at Bommer's shop. Thank God. Eric gave her that dimple-garnished grin again and pulled his trucker cap lower on his forehead.
"I'll see you around, then," he said.
Vanessa nodded.
But he wouldn't. With any luck, she'd be on her way to Florida again by morning. Disappointment lingered, muddying the rEricef she should be feEricng.
Chapter Two
Eric gripped the steering wheel tightly and glanced in his rear view mirror. Vanessa looked back at him briefly before entering his brother's shop. Her short hair had moved again, making the bruise on her cheek painfully obvious. A protective urge streaked through his veins.
In just a few hours, he'd become sympathetic to her situation. No, that wasn't true. It had only taken a few seconds—long enough for him to see her injured face and the packed getaway car. In just a few hours, he'd become interested in who she was. And he wanted to know more.
He might have made that too obvious. After all, she was in the process of running from an abusive ex-boyfriend. It was very unlikely she'd want to explore any attraction that existed between her and a single dad from the sticks.
Eric pulled up in front of the middle school's gym doors. There she was—Julia, with her long blond hair and unaffected smile. Even at eleven, he could see the beginnings of a woman in her, and fresh anger rose within him at the idea of his daughter ever having to go through what Vanessa did.
Julia said goodbye to some friends, threw her backpack in the back seat, and climbed into the front.
"Hey, Dad," she greeted as she put on her seat belt.
"Did you have a good day?" He checked his mirrors and pulled away from the curb.
"Yes! Tracy's grandma gave her a Jonas Brother's poster for her birthday, but she hates them because she says they don't really sing good, they're just hot and that's the reason why they're so rich and famous, but that's the same thing her big sister says, so I think she's just trying to get her sister to think she's cool by liking the same stuff as her and saying all the same things she does, but I would never tell her that because then she might not talk to me anymore, but, anyway, I think the Jonas Brothers are cute and they sing good and she knows that so she gave the poster to me." She beamed at her father, and he grinned back.
"Do you have room for another poster?" he teased.
"Of course! It's not very big. It fit in my backpack. Well, rolled up it did. But, anyway, I guess I can take down the Justin Bieber poster if I need to. Leslie Ann says he's a poser, and I tend to agree with her."
"You tend to agree?"
"Yes, I do."
Eric rubbed a hand over his chin to hide a smile.
"Oh, and I got in trouble again in Math today because I was talking to Howie too much while Mrs. Truitt was going over Roman numerals. It's just so boring, though. When am I ever going to use Roman numerals?"
"They come in handy."
"When?"
"Um...when you're reading the Pope's name."
Julia gave her father that look—the dreaded you have no idea what you're talking about look. It had just recently replaced the I adore you, Daddy look, and Eric knew it was only going to get worse.
"Just stop talking to your friends in class and get good grades. Then you can study whatever you want in college. Major in English. No more math."
"Yeah, yeah. I know. So what did you do today?"
"I picked up some junk from Mr. McCormick up the highway. Helped someone who had a flat. Other than that, nothing new."
"Who had the flat?"
"Someone from New York. She was just passing through."
"Wow, New York? Gina got to go to New York last year. It sounds so glamorous."
Her eyes went dreamy and she stared out the window. They were almost home. They passed by the metal fence of his salvage yard and stopped at a yellow cape cod about a mile further. They lived on the outskirts of town. A thin line of trees acted as a sparse privacy fence, separating them from the other houses lining the street. A wooded park stretched out behind the properties.
Julia jumped out of the truck and grabbed her backpack. Eric followed her, searching for the house key on his crowded key ring. He opened the door, and his daughter skipped inside. She ran upstairs to toss her things in her messy, too purple room and then let Timberlake in from the backyard. Eric had let Julia name the golden retriever, but he refused to have a dog named Justin. Timberlake was their compromise.
"Hey, boy," she greeted happily.
Timberlake jumped up to give Julia several slobbery kisses. She giggled. Eric pressed a button on his answering machine. He had a message from a telemarketer and another from his mother-in-law. Former mother-in-law. He'd never been sure what to call her.
"Hello, kids. I just wanted to let you know I'm making lasagna tonight, if you want to come over. It'll be on the table at six. Hugs and kisses."
Eric turned to his daughter, who already looked excited. His TV dinners could only go so far.
"Do you want to go see Grandma?"
"Yes!"
"Will you still have time for homework?"
"Of course, Dad. I only have to read, like, two poems for English and do a worksheet for Math."
"Alrighty. Get changed and we'll walk over."
She ran up the stairs with Timberlake on her heels. Eric headed for the master bedroom on the first floor. He changed into a clean t-shirt and took a moment to glance around the room. It still felt empty. The queen-sized bed was poorly made and the floor was scattered with dirty clothes.
Angela never would have stood for it. He gazed at the wedding picture that still sat on his dresser, then tossed his hat on the bed, ran a hand through his hair, and walked out the door.
Vanessa threw the last of her belongings in the motel room. The city native in her just couldn't feel comfortable knowing her back seat was filled with bags in full view of anyone who walked by. All someone would have to do was break a window-and then she'd be stuck here even longer.
She sat on the bed and tapped her fingers on the nightstand. Bommer had said he'd get to her car tomorrow, as soon as the tires arrived. She began wondering if there was another mechanic she could use, one that might already have the tire in stock, but Eric had been so kind to her. She didn't want to take business away from his brother.
Besides, she'd wanted out of New York, and here she was.
Her phone vibrated. She was still waiting for her mother to call, but the ID told her it was Goe again. She pressed end and scrolled down her list of contacts until she reached her best friend.
"Hey, Vanessa, what's up?"
Tom's voice soothed her immediately. He was her shopping buddy, her voice of reason, the one who had been there for her from the day she got her first modEricng job to the day she met Goe to now.
He was the first person she'd called after Goe struck her. Tom had told her the difference between her and those sad, abused girls on TV was that she wouldn't wait around for it to happen again.
He knew she was leaving the apartment, but he didn't know about her impromptu road trip.
"Hey, not a lot. I'm in Virginia."
"Why?"
"My parents are at their vacation spot in Florida. I just wanted to get away for a while."
"Virginia is not Florida."
"Thanks, Sherlock. I got a flat and it's taking another day to fix, so I'm stuck here."
"Oh, no. You are not stuck. There are planes, taxis, and trains. Or I'll steal a car and come get you myself." He paused. "Seriously, do you need me?"
"Not yet. It's an okay place. Better than where I was. I've only been here f
or a few hours, but there's this guy—"
"Hold it right there, Van." She could picture him bringing a hand up to stop her. "You've been away from that scrotum of a man for less than twenty-four hours. There does not need to be a this guy."
Vanessa rolled her eyes and drew circles on the cheap but clean carpet with her toe.
"It's not like that," she said, managing to sound exasperated, as if the idea of her developing a crush on Eric was absurd. Even if it wasn't. Even if she already had. "He just helped me with my tire and took me out to a late lunch or early dinner or whatever it was. You would not bEriceve the food at this little diner—"
"Don't change the subject. He sounds like Hick Charming. Just remember you thought that castration-waiting-to-happen was Prince Charming."
"For God's sake, Tom, I'm only here for the night. I'm sure I won't see him again before I get to my parents. Which is what I'm calling about, thanks for asking."
"Fine, Van. What can I do for you?"
"Am I being stupid—?"
"Yes."
"Shut up. Look, Mom will call at some point tonight, and I can't just act like everything's fine. But I wanted to tell them what happened in person. How would you want to hear about it from your kid?"
"Okay, first of all, you're acting like you did something wrong and you're going to be in trouble. Stop that. Secondly—"
"They liked him. A lot. I'm basically ripping the perfect son-in-law out of their lives."
"He's not perfect if he smacks you around, is he? And, secondly," he continued, "let me pretend just for a moment that I would want to touch a child with a ten-foot pole and then try to look at things from your parents' perspective."
There was a short, dramatic pause while he pretended to consider this.
"Just tell them you broke up. No dirty details."
"But I don't want to be dishonest with them."
"Evasion is not dishonesty. Besides, you're only keeping his bastard-ation a secret until you can see them and hug and cry, etc, etc."
"Sound logic."
"Thank you. Just call if you need me, Van. I will be your shoulder, your rock, the one to give you strength when you need to resist Hick Charming's...charm."
"Goodbye, Tom."
She hung up on him, then scrolled through her contacts again and called her mother. She just needed to get this over with. Her mom picked up after a few rings.
"Hello, dear!" Her words were on the tail end of a giggle. Vanessa didn't want to think about what her mother and father were up to all alone in the condo.
"Hey, Mom."
"How is everything? You sound a little down. Did you have a bad audition?"
In the wake of everything that had happened, Vanessa had almost forgotten about the audition. The director had said she was too fat and sent her away without even seeing her dance. That was the reason she'd come home early, crying, to find Goe in their bed with another woman. That had been the catalyst. She'd yelled and sent the leggy redhead packing. Then he'd hit her.
"Oh, yes, it was awful. Are you and Dad having fun in Florida?"
"Tons. You and Goe really should come down sometime. The palm trees, the beaches, Disney World! It's a great break from the city."
Vanessa winced at her ex's name. "Um, about that...I am coming to visit. I'm on my way right now, actually."
"Really? Harmon! Vanessa's coming for a visit!"
"Should I put some clothes on?" Vanessa could hear her Dad's voice faintly in the background. She rubbed her temple—hard—more in an attempt to give herself a headache, a distraction, rather than get rid of one.
"I'm driving, Mom. I got stuck in Virginia with a flat, but with any luck I'll be there sometime tomorrow night or early the next day."
"Is Goe coming?"
There it was. Vanessa took a deep breath. She was surprised when she felt a prick in the bridge of her nose; the sensation traveled until it reached her eyes and formed tears. A drop of moisture slid down her bruised cheek, and her voice cracked.
"No, Mom."
Her mother's carefree voice turned to concern. "What happened, honey?"
"We broke up. It was bad. I'll tell you the details when I get there, but...I can't be with him."
"Honey, are you sure this isn't just a bump in the road? I swear he's a few months from proposing."
"I'm sure, Mom. Trust me. He's not the man I thought he was, and he's definitely not the man I want to marry."
There was a short pause. She knew her mother was disappointed without having to hear the tone of her voice.
"I'm sorry," Vanessa said. She knew what Tom had told her—it wasn't her fault—but the words slipped out, anyway. The situation was miserable. He'd taken her for a fool. She was embarrassed, and her parents had grown to love Goe, too.
"It's alright, dear. These things happen. You come on down and we can relax and talk about it. We'll have a girls' day. Your father's been wanting to play golf, anyway."
"I'd like that. Thanks, Mom. Give Dad my love. I'll call when I'm close."
"Goodbye, Vanessa. We love you."
"Love you, too."
Vanessa hung up but continued to stare at the phone. She sighed. She and Goe were split, she was moved out, and she'd told her parents. The worst was over.
Chapter Three
"Here, Eric. Take these with you."
Sharon placed a tub of leftovers in her son-in-law's hands and embraced him.
"Have a good night, son." Ben, his father-in-law, shook his hand.
"Thanks for having us. Say goodbye to Grandma and Grandpa, Julia."
"Bye, Grandma. Bye, Grandpa."
Julia threw her arms around the older woman's thin waist and the balding man's plump one in turn. Julia and Eric waved goodbye as they walked down the front steps and up the short gravel driveway. He checked his watch. It was seven o'clock. For a moment, Vanessa entered his thoughts. He wondered how she was doing, all alone at the motel in a strange town. But he needed to focus on his daughter, not on a stranger who was leaving as fast as she'd come.
"We can have ice cream when your homework's finished," he told Julia.
Her face lit up. He wondered how long that simple incentive would work.
"Did you get Moose Tracks?"
"Maybe." He grinned.
Julia clapped happily and skipped a few feet down the road. His wife's parents lived three houses down. Eric opened the door he hadn't bothered locking, and Timberlake bounded into him. He rubbed the dog's head, mussing the smooth fur and sending the animal into a state of pure canine bliss. Julia tossed food in his bowl and refilled his water, then sat at the kitchen table to do her homework.
Eric put the leftover lasagna and vegetables in the fridge. He appreciated his former mother-in-law looking after them, but it hurt. He missed Angela, and when he went over to their house he was all too aware of the loss. She had been the one piece of the puzzle connecting all of them—wife, mother, daughter—and now they had to figure out how to go on without her.
Julia had been six when her mother died. She kept a family picture from their last year together on her nightstand. Eric wondered how much she remembered about her, if Julia had any special mother-daughter moments she held dear, or if all she had left to cling to was the idea of her mother instilled by other people who had gotten to know her longer. He wasn't sure. They rarely talked about it.
Eric sighed and stared at the dishes in the sink. Work—any kind of work—kept his mind off the pain.
So had Vanessa.
He glanced at Julia. Her small lips were turned down in concentration as she worked through an Edgar Allan Poe poem. He picked up the cordless phone and went into the living room, turning on the TV to drown out the noise of his conversation. He found the number for the local motel in the phone book, and, after going through a receptionist, heard Vanessa's voice.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Vanessa, it's Eric. I just wanted to see how you were doing."
He did his best to sound casual but g
lanced anxiously in the other room. Julia seemed absorbed by her work. If this didn't go as planned, he wanted to keep it as private as possible.
"I'm good, Eric. All settled in. Thanks for calling."
She sounded relaxed, casual, like she was lying in bed. Eric had to shake the thought from his mind.
"No problem. My brother told me your car wouldn't be ready until tomorrow night. I was wondering if you might like to come out for breakfast in the morning. We could go to the diner again. I'd be bringing Julia."
"Sure, I'd love to. I'd love to meet Julia, too."
Her voice faltered ever-so-slightly on the last sentence. He knew she felt the attraction between them. It was the only reason his having a daughter would throw her for a loop. The simple truth was that they both had baggage, they were both working through a tough situation, and they were both being urged toward one another by a powerful force, whether that force was Fate or hormones.
"Great. How's eight?" he asked.
"See you then."
They hung up, and Eric stole another glance at the kitchen table. Julia had stayed oblivious throughout the call. Perfect. He went into the kitchen and replaced the phone.
"Julia," he began.
She raised her blue eyes to his.
"Do you remember that woman from New York I told you about?"
She nodded.
"She had to stay in town overnight, and I told her we'd like to take her out to breakfast tomorrow. Do you want to go to Tiff's?"
Her eyes lit up. "Of course! And then I can ask her all about New York. What's her name?"
"Vanessa," he said, liking the way her name sounded on his tongue a little too much.
Even if he knew for a fact this was a bad idea—pursuing a stranger, getting his hopes up, introducing his daughter—he wouldn't be able to stop himself. The train was moving, and there was nothing he was willing to do to stop it.