Robynn Carr

by The Hero

  “No,” he said. “I’m sure.”

  She pulled away a bit and looked at him. “You know, I’d make the same promise about Austin, but Cooper and Sarah might object. He’s set, should something happen to you.”

  “It’s all right, Devon. You’re right to ask—you have to watch out for her. Yes, is the answer. Of course I’ll take care of Mercy. Don’t worry about it again.”

  But that night, after the movie, rather than trying to wheedle her into staying longer, he carried Mercy to her car and, for the first time, didn’t follow her home. “I shouldn’t leave Austin alone. And you have your phone. If you’re worried about anything or have a problem, call me. I’ll lock the front door and run down the block to help you.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said. “I’m sorry, Spencer. I think I upset you. I asked too much of you. It’s not your obligation.”

  He kissed her lightly on the lips and said, “Don’t be silly. You have to think about things like that. We’ll talk more about this later.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  But she could feel the instant distance between them. And when she called him the next morning he said, “I might be coming down with something. I have a headache and I’m all plugged up. I’m going to take Austin out to Cooper’s and get some rest.”

  “Okay. Feel better. I’ll be here all day.”

  * * *

  Spencer didn’t sleep. His mind was spinning all night and by morning he had a blistering headache. And all this because Devon had asked him to be Mercy’s guardian should something happen to her while they were a couple? It was a logical request. And Mercy was cute as could be; well-behaved and smart. In fact, if he and Bridget had had a second child, he would have loved a daughter like Mercy.

  But they hadn’t. Instead Bridget had left him widowed.

  He walked with Austin to the beach, got him set up with his fishing pole at the end of the dock, grabbed a cup of coffee and went to the deck to keep an eye on him, make sure he didn’t try diving off the dock. He sat on the deck and just watched the sea. And thought about things.

  Less than two weeks after arriving in Thunder Point, three months after burying his wife, Spencer had been called to Missouri because his father had passed. It was far from unexpected. His parents had been in the same nursing home, his father suffering from the effects of a massive stroke that should’ve killed him but left him completely incapacitated instead. His mother, suffering from advanced Alzheimer’s and several heart attacks, survived him, but not for long. The last time he took Austin to visit his parents, over a year ago, his mother didn’t recognize either one of them.

  But he took his mother in a wheelchair to his father’s burial. There were a few people there from the nursing home, but all their friends and family were gone. And his mother had been on another planet the whole time, gazing off at nothing, making weird little movements with hands that were crippled with arthritis. She had absolutely no idea what was going on.

  The nursing supervisor from the nursing home said, “Spencer, you’ve had a very hard year. Let me be completely honest—your mother isn’t going to be with us much longer. In fact, some of us were surprised that your father predeceased her. All the arrangements have been made for her—you made sure of that quite a while ago. Say goodbye to her now. It will be a matter of weeks at the very most. Just take care of your young son. It’s time to get on with your life.”

  The call had come a few weeks later. Spencer silently grieved, but he didn’t mention it to anyone except Austin, to whom he said, “Grandma passed away peacefully. She’s with Grandpa now and I believe they’re dancing. When I was a boy, I remember, they loved to dance.”

  And Austin who was sometimes a thirty-year-old in a ten-year-old body, asked, “Did she have a happy life?”

  And he nodded with a smile. “Until the past few years, after Grandpa had a stroke and Grandma’s Alzheimer’s got the better of her, they were very happy. They laughed a lot. They had fun. They were thrilled when you were born and visited a lot when you were small. But then...”

  “I know. Then she went around the bend. And Grandpa stroked out.”

  Exactly correct, Spencer thought. His father had been eighty-six, his mother seventy-nine when they passed. Not bad, considering Bridget hadn’t even made it to forty.

  After talking about it with Austin, Spencer mentioned it to Cooper, in case Austin ever brought it up with him. And he had said to Cooper at the time, “Let’s not get all emotional about it—I expected it a year ago. I’m relieved. Another chapter of suffering closed.”

  Cooper, who many consider a little hard-edged, said, “But, man, buddy, you’ve had a real load this year. I’m sorry. Really sorry.”

  He hadn’t thought about it much after that. He was relieved.

  He hadn’t cried about it. He wasn’t the crying type anyway. He’d let it all go and embraced his new life, his new town, his team—God, what a team! And there had been that woman, Devon. Despite all adversity, what a fighter she was! She was so alive and, man, had he needed all that life. Especially in the ashes of his buried grief.

  And then she’d said, “If something should happen to me...”

  Devon thought it was the request that he be responsible for Mercy that had thrown him, but that wasn’t even close. The minute Devon had said that, something roared to life inside him—probably all that grief he hadn’t let see the light of day. And like an arrow through the heart he thought, I can’t do it again! I can’t bury one more person I love! I don’t have any more in me! Jesus, if he were a country-and-western song all he’d need is a broken-down pickup and a dead dog and he’d get an award.

  Cooper came outside a couple of times, sat with him a minute, talked about his new house a little, though it was still just cement and dirt. Cooper asked him what was wrong and needing him to go away, he said, “Could be flu. It’s been running through the school. I’m achy and my head is pounding.”

  He sat there, licking his wounds and feeling sorry for himself for at least a couple of hours when he saw her walking across the beach. She held something in her hands and she was almost to the base of the stairs before he could see it was a covered pot that she held. She stood at the bottom of the stairs, looked up at him, then began the climb. When she got to the top she sat down, put the pot in the middle of the table and asked, “How are you feeling?”

  “Plugged up,” he said. It wasn’t a complete lie, since he was starting to understand that he was emotionally plugged up. Devon had scared him and he had freaked out.

  “Have you taken anything?”

  “Advil,” he lied. “I probably need a decongestant. What’s that?”

  “I made you chicken soup. By now I’m sure it’s not hot, but Rawley will be glad to warm it up for you. Spencer, I’m sorry.”

  He took a deep breath. He leaned forward. “No, I’m sorry. Your question—it took me by surprise, but the real surprise was in my head. And I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I want to say two things, two important things. First, whether we’re a couple or not, I will take responsibility for Mercy. I will be sure she’s safe and cared for and loved, no matter what. I promise. I give you my word, and my word is good. And the second thing—when you asked me that, it really hit me just how serious our relationship is and how fast it became serious. Devon, I love you, I can’t help it. But I just buried my wife last spring. I buried my parents last summer. I need a few days to think about things, to be sure I’m not just desperate for some stability, for an answer to some of the aches and pains the past couple of years have given me. I don’t want to rush into anything. I don’t want to rush you. I just want to think about this. For a split second, I felt ambushed.”

  She flinched as if she’d been slapped. “But I tried to discourage you!”

  “You did. I didn’t realize I might be moving too fast. My feelings haven’t changed. Give me a little time.”

  She tapped the pot. “This isn’t going to cure what you’ve got.”
r />   “I know.”

  “Here’s what I’m going to do,” she said. “I’m going home. Don’t call me unless you think you know what you want. Because I’m doing this exactly one time.” Then she stood, ran down the stairs and across the beach.

  He watched her go and asked himself if he was just some kind of fool or a man being smart. It was reasonable, wasn’t it? They’d met in June. It was September. A few months. When she was out of sight, he sighed and turned his head.

  Cooper stood in the doorway from the bar. His arms were crossed over his chest and his heavy eyebrows were furrowed. “What the fuck was that?” he asked.

  “If you’re going to eavesdrop, at least pay attention,” Spencer said.

  “I was paying attention! You brought your grumpy self out here, claiming to have the start of the flu, but what you were having was idiocy. You’ve been sniffing after that pretty little thing for months! Did you really just cut her loose and tell her you needed space?”

  “Cooper, I’m warning you—stay out of this. We’ll sort it out in a couple of days....”

  “When men say they need to think, that they need space, women know what they mean. When I was a teenager or idiot guy in my twenties, I thought I was getting one over on them, but they always knew—it was an excuse because I couldn’t make a commitment. You’re such a jackass.”

  “Fuck you! I’m committed all over the place! I was with Bridget every day while she was dying! I’ll be Austin’s father till he’s old and gray even though he’s got your DNA! I took care of my parents the best I could! I’m a teacher, a coach, a friend! I don’t take this shit lightly!”

  “Was one more commitment, the one that actually feels the best, just too much for little you?” Cooper asked. “Because she’s already got a heap of worries and struggles and I think you probably just broke the hell out of her heart.”

  “I’ll fix that up,” he said sulkily. “But right now I think I’m getting the flu!”

  “Flu of the brain, that’s what. If you don’t run after her right now and beg for another chance, you’re not getting any sympathy from me when you’re too late.”

  “I don’t need your sympathy. I also don’t need your advice. It’s not like you’re that slick with women!”

  “Listen, Spencer,” he said, pulling out a chair and sitting at the table with him. “I understand you might be a little gun-shy—what you went through with Bridget, that would be rough. But Devon’s a good kid and she’s been through a lot, too. Maybe you’d be better off working on holding each other up than taking a break to think things over.”

  “Cut it,” he said, drawing a finger across his throat.

  “All right, then, if that’s the way you want it, do it your way. Just trying to share the wealth of my experience. You could be alone a long time. Just trying to be useful, bud.”

  “You wanna be useful? How about a beer? And some silence.”

  “Whatever,” Cooper said, going into the bar. But he didn’t bring back a beer.

  * * *

  When Devon got home, Mercy was still napping. Mrs. Bledsoe was sitting on Devon’s couch, reading one of her novels. She slowly stood as Devon came in the house. “How is he feeling?”

  “He’s feeling like the ass he is,” Devon said.

  “Oh, dear,” Mrs. Bledsoe said. “You’ve been crying.”

  “Wasted tears,” she said. “It’s probably my fault. I probably pushed him into a serious relationship. I didn’t mean to, but I think I did. Because he asked me to give him some time to think about this. About us.”

  “Oh,” she said, smiling. “Don’t worry too much about that, lovey. Men have an enduring reputation for things like that.”

  “Asking for think time?”

  “No. For being stupid.” She shook her head sadly. “I don’t know what it is. Men do things like that regularly. Take these silly time-outs. Like it erases all the important things on their minds. Haven’t you noticed?”

  Well, no, she hadn’t. Because when had she had a man? There had been a couple of boyfriends when she was young and then there was Jacob, who didn’t count at all because he was not a steady guy: he was a benevolent despot. Spencer was nearly her first. The first guy to love and want her exclusively.

  “I had a husband, a son, a grandson and I eat up these romance novels. Everyone knows men can’t stand to be confronted with their feelings. They’d rather wrestle alligators.”

  “Maybe I should read more of those,” Devon said.

  “I have a few recommendations and a ton of books if you ever want to borrow a few.”

  “Maybe I will,” Devon said. “I think I’m going to have a little free time all of a sudden.”

  Seventeen

  Ashley cornered her mother in the kitchen. “Can I talk to you and Mac tonight? For a couple of minutes? Just you two?”

  “Of course. Is anything wrong?”

  “Not at all. I have something to run by you. It’s not really for the whole family.”

  “You’ve got me on pins now,” Gina said.

  “Is Mac here tonight? He’s not working?” When Gina shook her head, Ashley said, “See you here right after dinner? When the kids have scattered?”

  “Perfect.”

  Before the dishes were even done, Mac and Gina sat expectantly at the kitchen table. Eve had gone to their room to talk to Landon on the phone while the younger kids were in the basement with the piano, computer and TV. Ashley looked at her mom and new stepdad and laughed. “I really didn’t mean to alarm you. I wanted to talk to you about Eric.”

  “What is it, honey?” Gina asked.

  “I went shopping with him, you know. And we had lunch. And he was telling me that someone has been after him to sell his body shop. At first he just said it wasn’t for sale, but then he started thinking about it and wondered if just maybe he shouldn’t do it. I guess the offer is pretty good, but I don’t have any idea what that means. But...he said he’s been looking around at other things, other opportunities, if he did decide to sell. He said it’s almost an offer he can’t refuse. I told him I hoped it didn’t mean he was moving even farther away and he said there was a potential thing in Thunder Point, but he was worried about it—he asked me if Thunder Point was big enough for the two of us. Everyone would take one look at us and know—he’s my father.”

  “Oh, jeez,” Gina said. “How do you feel about that?”

  “I’m okay with it,” she said with a shrug. “I’ve introduced him as my biological father to people we’ve met. It doesn’t bother me a bit. In fact, I’m kind of proud that he wanted to meet me once he found out about me. But then the conversation went to you guys. He doesn’t want to put it to you directly—he doesn’t want to blindside you. He said it might make you two uncomfortable. You know, dredging up the past, which was kind of a scandalous past for you. Mom, I know you didn’t have it easy when you were this teenage mother with the missing boyfriend. Then, he reminded me, add to that the fact he went to prison. Holy crap, huh? I mean, that isn’t a big deal for me—I didn’t go to prison! And he’s pretty embarrassed about it, but he said he’s never tried to hide it. He said it wouldn’t work to try to hide it—it would always be found out eventually, so he admits it and that’s all there is to it.” She shrugged. “He turned his life around. It’s a good thing.”

  All Gina said was, “Thunder Point?”

  “Yeah. Well, here’s what he said. He said if he approached you with the possibility—and it’s still just a possibility, he hasn’t accepted the offer on his body shop or anything—but he said you’re the kind of person that would tell him to just do the thing that worked best for him. You’d just be nice about it. That’s why he asked me to tell you and Mac about this, give you time to talk about it, give him an answer that really fits what you feel and not just the nice answer. Because he promises no matter what he does next, he’ll see me now and then, just like he does now. He doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable if he lives nearby. So, could you guys t
alk it over? Really talk it over? Decide how you really feel about the idea? And then I’ll tell him. Okay?”

  “You mean to say he’d turn down a good move to this town if it made me uncomfortable?”

  “Mom, I know he’s sorry about the past, about the loser he used to be. He said you’re in a new marriage now and wants to make sure you don’t feel, you know, embarrassed by him.”

  Gina looked at Mac. “That’s kind of sweet.”

  Mac frowned. “It’s kind of sweet as long as he doesn’t have feelings for you.”

  Ashley laughed. “Do you think he’d dare? Actually I think he has feelings for me. And while we were driving home, he admitted he’s scared to death of Grandma.”

  “He probably should be,” Gina said.

  “So, don’t answer the question. Talk about it. Be sure. Because you could be stuck with the answer.”

  “And, Ash? This would make you happy?”

  “I’d be okay. But, Mom, I’m almost out of here. Another year or two, I’m on my way to college and then—whatever comes next. I don’t know if I’ll live in Thunder Point the rest of my life. I know I’ll visit a lot if you’re here, but where Eric lives isn’t that big a deal. We’ll stay in touch. This has a lot more to do with you and Mac.”

  * * *

  Devon was on the quiet side at the clinic. And to make matters worse, it wasn’t very busy—just young mothers with small children who weren’t in school and one woman who stayed home from work with a terrible sore throat and fever. Scott fixed her right up with a strong antibiotic and did a throat culture for possible strep.

  And of course he noticed Devon’s mood, though she tried to act bright and happy. “I sense trouble in paradise,” he said.

  “Maybe I’m coming down with the flu,” she said, borrowing Spencer’s excuse.

  “That’s okay, Devon. You don’t have to talk about what it really is.”

  And she said, “Thanks. I can’t at the moment.”

  She was being completely honest. She couldn’t talk about it without tears threatening. She was trying so hard not to hope and pray he’d call to say he’d been a fool who overreacted. She wanted to be as over him as he apparently was over her. She was failing in her mission, but suspected Spencer was succeeding in his—she didn’t see him. At all.