by Maria Carter
Her phone buzzed on the side table, interrupting her thoughts. She grabbed it and excused herself, going to the kitchen to take the call.
"Hey, Tom."
"Hey, Van. How's it going?"
"Okay. I talked to Mom. They're leaving in three days, so when I'm done here I'll just head back up to New York."
"Don't sound so excited."
Vanessa bit her lip and lied through her teeth. Well, it wasn't lying, by Tom's definition. It was evasion. She knew it was ridiculous to be so stuck on a man, on a town, after just a few days. And she knew Tom would never let her live it down.
"Of course I'm not excited. I don't want to be in a hundred mile radius of wherever Goe is."
"Or you don't want to leave the guy you're 'not' sleeping with."
"I'm not sleeping with him."
"Sure. I ran into him tonight."
"Who?"
"Sir Ass-alot. I went to that Sturge-Weber event with Norreen. He was there."
"Who was he with?" she snorted.
"I didn't catch her name."
"Oh. I was kidding."
Vanessa tried to ignore the pang of rejection. He was an asshole, and she wanted nothing to do with him. But was she so easy to forget?
"Look, did you ever take that picture?"
"What picture?"
"The picture of that bruise he gave you."
"No."
"Well, do it. Even if you're not ready to deal with it yet, you need to press charges. I don't think he's mending his ways anytime soon. And Norreen and I both want to see him burn. Metaphorically, of course. Well, literally, but that's less likely. Just do it, okay?"
"Sure. So was the play any good?"
"I give it three stars. But I give the alcohol four."
"Nice. I kind of miss that stuff."
"Only kind of? You've been gone for three days. You should be passed out on the floor, dying for a glass of good champagne, Louis Vuitton, and transportation back to this beautiful city."
"First of all, I've only owned one pair of Louis Vuittons in my life, courtesy of my fabulous Fashion Week runway walk, and, second, I'll be back in a week. At the latest. I'm enjoying my time away from the drama while I can."
"As long as you enjoy the time and not the man."
"I'll enjoy whatever aspects of this impromptu vacation I want."
"That's very non-committal of you."
"Thank you."
"I'll talk to you later, Van. Take the picture."
"Bye, Tom."
She ended the call. It couldn't hurt to do as he said. Later, especially if Goe hurt someone else, she might regret not taking it. She raised the phone in front of her face and took the selfie. She checked the image and saved it. Now she had proof, and she could go back to trying to forget.
A movement by the doorway caught her eye. Eric was leaning against the frame, his blond hair tousled and his blue eyes on her.
"Who's Tom?" he asked curiously.
"Are you jealous?" she teased, keeping her voice low.
"Maybe a little." That grin broke onto his face, Ericciting one of her own.
She approached him, hands in her back pockets, wanting to kiss him but knowing she couldn't. "He's my best friend."
His eyes widened in surprise. "A guy?"
"What? You think I'm too prissy to hang with the guys?"
"Something like that."
"Well, you might be right." He looked confused, and she laughed. "He's gay."
"Ah."
"Ah?"
"Ah." He shrugged, clearly unwilling to give his opinion on the subject.
"Dad," a young voice came from behind Eric, and he turned, startled.
"Hey, Julia. What's up?"
"I want some popcorn."
"Sure thing."
What Julia clearly wanted was her father's attention. Vanessa took that as her cue to go back in the darkened living room. She wouldn't come between Eric and his daughter, but she stole one more glance at his jean-clad ass before settling in to watch Patrick Swayze beat some bad guys to a pulp.
Vanessa had just finished brushing her teeth and was changing into boxers and a tank top when a quiet knock sounded on the door of the bedroom. She expected to find Eric on the other side, but soft snoring from the living room told her he was already asleep, and the pretty adolescent in front of her told her Julia was not.
"Don't you have school tomorrow?" Vanessa asked.
"I can't sleep. I have a question."
"Just one?"
Vanessa let her in, sitting cross-legged on the bed and patting the comforter beside her, inviting Julia to sit with her. The girl closed the door quietly behind her and climbed onto the bed. She looked around the room. Vanessa waited. She had a feEricng Julia didn't come in here very often. Her blue eyes found the picture of her mother and father on their wedding day, and she got up to take it off the dresser. She looked from the picture to Vanessa and back again. Then she got back on the bed.
Vanessa knew how to respond to talkative Julia. She had no idea how to respond to quiet, anxious Julia. So she waited for the girl to speak first. If Vanessa began driving a wedge between Eric and his daughter, she would have to go. And she didn't want to. She wanted to play this right.
Julia finally looked up from the picture in her lap and focused on Vanessa. "Do you have a boyfriend?"
"No."
The girl's eyes flitted back to the picture. "Do you like my dad?"
Vanessa smiled in what she hoped was an understanding way, knowing that this was hard for Julia but also knowing she deserved honesty. "I do."
"I think my dad likes you, too," she muttered, picking at the bed cover.
Her pouty expression could be expected from any preteen, but Vanessa knew the girl's troubles ran deeper than typical moodiness. Julia had to be confused by her father's behavior and upset by Vanessa's intrusion into the two-person home life she was used to. Sure, she'd only stolen Eric away from the girl for one morning, but what was next? How far would it go?
Vanessa hesitantly reached out to cover Julia' hand with her own. She didn't pull away but gave her a sour look.
"Your father might like me, but he loves you."
"What if he starts loving you, too?"
Vanessa shrugged and moved a bit closer, so she could look at the picture, too. This was uncomfortable, an interaction she'd never planned on having, a perfectly avoidable interaction if she'd just let Eric go. But for whatever reason, she couldn't.
"Well," Vanessa began, trying to find the right words, "even if he loved me, it would be a completely different love from the one he shares with you. I haven't known either of you for very long, but if there's one thing I'm sure of, it's that your dad's heart is big enough for everyone."
"Will he love you different from Mom?"
Vanessa's heart ached for Julia. It was such an innocent question.
"I think so. But I'll be leaving in a few days, anyway. I don't think you have anything to worry about."
"I think I do."
"Then I don't think he'd love me unless you did, too."
Julia looked up at her, seeming to consider the New Yorker's theory. "I want my dad to be happy. It's not normal to have just a dad, even if your mom's dead. I just don't...I don't..."
"You don't want to lose him."
She nodded, her eyes welling up with tears. Vanessa wasn't so old she couldn't remember the emotional turmoil that came with being a young girl, let alone a young girl with a dead mother and a very attractive, available father. She wasn't sure what to do, how to comfort her without intruding. But to Vanessa's surprise, Julia launched herself into her arms. Vanessa felt hot tears on her shoulder. She rubbed Jule's back soothingly, trying to remember what her own mother had done in these situations.
"That would never happen. I wouldn't let it, and I know your father wouldn't."
There was no reply, so she just rocked Julia back and forth until she pulled away and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands.
"What do you guys usually do on Monday nights?" Vanessa asked.
"I have cheerleading practice. We might go visit Grandma or go for a walk or something."
"What if I take you and your dad out to dinner?"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. What's your favorite restaurant?"
"Tiff's."
Vanessa hid a smile. She should have guessed that was coming. "Is there anywhere else? Someplace you don't get to go to very often?"
Julia thought for a moment. "Olive Garden."
"Perfect."
Julia looked at her, small lips pursed in thought. Vanessa braced herself for another inquisition.
"Did you ever get to dance with anyone famous?" Julia asked. "I watch So You Think You Can Dance? sometimes, and I always kind of wonder what they do after the best dancer wins. I mean, if you're a singer you go make albums and do concerts, but if you're a dancer is it just ballet or what?"
Vanessa smiled, warmth and rEricef filling her heart. "There's backup dancing, Broadway, music videos, commercials...A classmate of mine ended up on a cruise line. It's hard to get noticed as a dancer, I think, but I love it. I have to have dancing as a part of my life somehow or I'll never really be happy."
"That's how I feel about cheerleading. I'd like to be a professional cheerleader someday."
"Then you should. But cheering as a career is even harder than dancing. NFL cheerleaders don't make enough to live on. But you could always start doing gymnastics or dance on the side. It would help with your cheering and give you other options."
"My friend Emily does dance. Maybe I could go with her. They're learning jazz right now, but I always thought that was just a kind of music and not a kind of dance. I don't really like the music, though. Dad listens to country, and I like some of that, and I like the Jonas Brothers, of course."
"It couldn't hurt to ask your dad," Vanessa agreed before Julia could go into her full spiel. "But you were supposed to be asleep an hour ago, so why don't you go to bed and ask him tomorrow?"
"Okay. Goodnight, Vanessa."
"Goodnight, Julia."
Vanessa fell back on the bed when the door closed. She had some experience with kids, thanks to her time tutoring young dancers, but this was a complicated and exhausting situation. She was glad it had ended well. And she was looking forward to taking them to dinner. It would give her a chance to show Eric just how thankful she was for everything he'd done.
And now that Julia seemed open to the idea of having Vanessa around for a few more days, she'd have more time to strengthen her impromptu bond with Eric. She was even beginning to feel attached to Julia. It should be impossible to feel such a connection after so short a time, but she was intent on focusing more on enjoying her time here, with him, than self-analyzing.
She snuggled into her pillow and fell asleep smiling.
Chapter Seven
Vanessa awoke to the sound of her phone buzzing. She rolled over and looked at Eric's bedside clock. 8:00 am.
"Hello?" she answered.
"Hey, did I wake you?" Bommer asked, too cheerfully.
"Mmhm."
"I just wanted to let you know I took a look at your car. It's mostly body work, and I have to send it over to the next town for that."
"But it's nothing serious?"
"Nope. Your insurance guys called. They'll come to take a look in a few hours. Eric and I can handle it."
"That's great. Thanks."
"No prob."
Vanessa hung up and rolled over. The big bed was so comfortable, but she needed to get up. She hadn't exercised the day before, and with no classes to teach or take, it was even more important to stay limber. The house was dark and silent. She grabbed a workout DVD from one of her bags and turned on a few lights.
As she flipped the switch in the kitchen, she saw a note on the counter: Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. Coffee's in the pot. Call me or Sharon if you need anything. Their numbers were written at the bottom along with P.S. Looking forward to tonight. Vanessa smiled. Julia must have spilled the beans.
Vanessa put on a headband and turned on the TV so she could do Tae Bo. After half an hour of punches and roundhouse kicks, a knock sounded on the door. She was in her pajamas, sweaty, and completely unprepared for social interaction. She considered ignoring it. No one would be coming to see her. But she wiped her sweaty forehead on her shirt, fixed her hair as best she could, and peeked out the window.
It was Sharon. Vanessa opened the the door.
"Hey, there," Sharon greeted. "I thought you might be hungry. I came by to cook breakfast."
"You didn't have to do that." Vanessa stepped aside to let her in. "Thank you so much."
The older woman waved a dismissive hand at her. "It's no trouble. I'm a golf widow on Mondays."
Sharon began digging through cupboards for pots and pans.
"Just let me grab a quick shower," Vanessa said. "I'll be right back."
"Take your time!" Sharon called after her.
Vanessa went to Eric's bedroom and started the shower, feEricng just a bit awkward. Eric had once shared this room with Sharon's daughter, after all. She washed sweat and grime from her body, did her hair, and changed into jean shorts and a draped t-shirt. She took a moment to look in the mirror.
Everyone accepted her so quickly; she knew they didn't see her as an intruder. But being so close to the life and people Angela had known made her feel like an outsider. Or a temporary replacement. But she could only be herself—in Angela's house, in Angela's bed, with Angela's family.
A shiver ran down Vanessa's spine. She wished she knew why spending time with the dead woman's mother bothered her more than kissing her husband.
She exited the bedroom to find Sharon at the stove, humming a happy tune. Vanessa searched for plates and silverware and set the tiny kitchen table for two.
"You've all been so nice," she said, trying her hand at small talk.
Sharon shrugged and smiled. "You're the most interesting thing that's happened to us in a while."
Vanessa poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down, deciding the best thing for her to do was just stay out of the other woman's way. She took a long sip and watched Sharon plate the poached eggs and pancakes. Sharon poured a cup of coffee for herself, added cream and sugar, and took a seat in front of Vanessa.
"I miss this," she said.
Vanessa knew what Sharon meant, but she asked anyway. "What's that?"
"Having someone to come over and talk to in the mornings, when Ben's off doing whatever he does. Whenever Angela was on leave, we'd get together a few mornings during the week ."
Sharon's smile was sad. Vanessa looked down at her coffee. She wasn't sure what to say.
"I wish I'd gotten to meet her."
"Me, too, dear." Sharon reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "I think you're good for him, you know."
"Eric?"
"Yes. I know you don't plan on staying long, and I know you only ended up here by accident. But I really do bEriceve everything happens for a reason."
Vanessa raised her eyes briefly to Sharon's. She didn't want to ask the question on the tip of her tongue, but the older woman seemed to know.
"Even Angela. There's a certain circle of life involved in war. She died so others could live."
"I don't think I could be so accepting."
"It took me a few years. Even now, it's hard, but it's something I know. Deep down. Sometimes very deep down."
Vanessa took a bite and chewed thoughtfully, considering Sharon's words. Maybe she had a point. Her mother used to say she hadn't gotten a call-back because God or Fate was making room for something bigger. Maybe she and Goe ended so badly to make sure she got here. To make sure she got to Hickman and Eric.
That was a dangerous way of thinking.
"I don't mean to overwhelm you with my past and my opinions. I just want you to know I'm happy you're here. Eric hasn't let a woman into Julia' life, or his, really, since Angela. For w
hatever reason, he's different with you. Happier. Even if you leave tomorrow, I think you'll have made an impact."
"I think he's made more of an impact on me," Vanessa admitted, once again hiding behind her cup of coffee. "I wasn't in a good place when I got that flat. But he makes all of that seem less important somehow."
"I think you do the same for him."
Vanessa tapped her fingernails against the side of her mug. "I've only known him for three days."
Sharon laughed.
"First impressions barely take a minute. I know I like you, and I've barely spent an hour with you. After three days, we could be best friends. It's called a kindred spirit. Ben and I were that way."
A smile touched her lips, and her eyes got a faraway look, filled with loving memory. Vanessa found herself feEricng envious.
"I thought he was just dreamy," Sharon continued. "I knew I had to talk to him, get to know him. And when he laid his eyes on me, I knew he felt the same connection." She focused on Vanessa again. "And that's all it really takes. Two people who get to know each other, and, after they do, want more. Something like that doesn't take very long."
"Love at first sight?" Vanessa guessed.
"Exactly."
"Well, I don't know about all that. It's hard to bEriceve that if you're so wrong about someone after a year, you can be right about someone after a few days."
"Hard. Not impossible. But, anyway, that's for you to figure out. Why don't you tell me a bit about New York? I've never been there."
Vanessa smiled, happy to have the serious conversation over with and talk about her beloved city—probably because everything Sharon said hit just a little too close to home.
Eric hauled a truckload of old sheet metal, bikes, and rusted scraps through the gate of his salvage yard. Martin, a burly, bearded worker, came out of a storage shed to help him tear the bikes apart.
"It's just about lunchtime," Martin said. "We were thinkin' of grabbin' pizza. You want in?"
It was pretty much a given that Eric would stay at the yard well over ten hours—working, eating with the guys, and working some more—until he had to pick Julia up from practice. But today he hesitated. Today, there was somewhere else he'd rather be.
"No, I'm heading home for lunch."
Martin tried to hide a grin, but Eric saw it.