No Substitute

by Susan Diane Johnson

  “I think the girls are planning something again.”

  “You mean with Baxter?”

  She heard the anger in Quentin’s tone. “Bradley,” she corrected softly. “His name is Bradley.”

  “I know what his name is,” Quentin snapped. “I prefer Baxter.”

  Amy knew Quentin was just doing what he felt he must. A father bear protecting his girl cub.

  “I’ve seen these growing looks between them all week long, and I’ve been concerned. I’m certain they’re up to something again.”

  “Why didn’t you let me know this sooner?”

  She shut her eyes against the anger in his tone. She deserved it. He was right. She should have said something sooner.

  “I— I wasn’t totally sure. I thought maybe they were just working on their assignments.”

  “You and their assignments. If you hadn’t assigned them to work together in the first place, none of this would be happening.”

  “Quentin, I’ve explained this to you before. I had no idea before I paired them up. Once I knew, I couldn’t very well separate them.”

  “You could have, you just didn’t want the hassle.”

  “That’s not true. I’d do anything for my students if I thought it was the right thing. You may not remember this, but if you tell a girl she can’t see a certain boy, what will happen?”

  That Quentin was silent spoke volumes to Amy. She knew he was remembering when they were teenagers.

  “Amy?” His voice softened. Amy sensed he had a difficult time reining in his temper and his fatherly emotions. “Will you help me?”

  “Of course I will, Quentin. But what can we do? We don’t know for certain they even have anything planned. It’s just my suspicion.”

  “Since she’s already headed over to Ashley’s for the night, why don’t we do a little stake out?”

  “A stake out? You mean of Ashley’s house? Like spy on them again? Follow them?” Great. She had a hard enough time spying on Shayna at school. Now he wanted her to do it on a larger scale.

  “I was convinced it was just friend stuff.” Worry showed in fine lines around Quentin’s eyes.

  “Friend stuff? What do you mean?”

  “After Shayna and I talked about the drive-in escapade, she assured me Ashley’s mom knew all about it, and it was simply guys and girls getting together. Just friend stuff. That’s why I didn’t worry any more about it.”

  “Oh.” And here she’d been seeing signs all week, thinking he could handle it since he was aware of it. He was right. She should have let him know sooner. She really was responsible. And because of that, she had no choice but to agree. “OK, Quentin, I’ll go with you to keep an eye on the girls. But, I don’t like spying on people one bit. I hope this is the last time.”

  ****

  Apprehension battled with joy in Amy’s heart. More time with Quentin might be just what her heart wanted, but she knew it wasn’t wise. She’d never get out of this town with her heart intact.

  Sitting in the truck for over an hour, listening to an oldies station with Quentin brought back memories Amy knew weren’t good for her.

  Quentin must have been lost in memories, too, because he’d barely said two words since they’d pulled up in front of Ashley’s house.

  There’d been no sign of activity other than the flutter of curtains now and again, and Amy wondered out loud if perhaps she’d been wrong about Shayna and Bradley planning something.

  “No, I’m sure you were right, but for some reason they changed their minds.” His relief was clearly visible on his face.

  Amy felt it, too. “I’m glad,” she said.

  “Me, too.”

  “But, Quentin, you know they’ll probably plan something again.”

  He blew out a heavy breath, and Amy could almost see the thoughts swirling in his head. Her heart went out to him.

  No parent wanted to think of their teenage girl out sneaking around with boys. But Quentin was having a terrible time with it. More terrible, she suspected, than most. She doubted it would be any different if the boy was a straight A student with perfect manners.

  Quentin was having difficulty just thinking of his daughter growing up.

  She wanted to reach out and touch his hand, to comfort him, to reassure him. But a sudden sense of shyness overtook her and she held back.

  “It’s probably safe for us to leave now.”

  Amy nodded, disappointed when Quentin started the truck. Too bad the night couldn’t last forever. There was nothing she had ever wanted more than to simply be with Quentin. Now she was. And though she’d previously asked God to give her just one more glimpse of him and that would be enough, suddenly it wasn’t.

  As they neared the restaurant where her car was still parked, Amy recalled the awkward way their evening had begun. She had yet to apologize. She’d been about to when the issue with Shayna and Ashley had come up. Now, though, she simply must offer her apology.

  “Quentin, I’m sorry.”

  “For?” Quentin stared straight ahead, watching the road.

  “You know what for.”

  Quentin remained silent. He knew exactly what for, but he was going to make her say it. Nothing like adding to the humiliation.

  “My crack to Miki about men.”

  “Why did you say it then?”

  “Because it’s true.”

  Quentin flinched as though she’d hit him.

  “I’m sorry, Quentin, but it is. Every man I’ve ever loved or cared about has thrown my heart down and stomped on it. My father, Stevie Michaels, Jared, you.” OK, throwing Jared in there wasn’t really fair since he’d had every right to find someone who would cherish him.

  “Stevie Michaels?” Quentin clenched his jaw.

  “He was the boy I had my first crush on. It was back in grade school. I thought I loved him. I used to pray to God every night asking to marry him when I grew up.”

  She smiled at the silly childhood notion.

  “He broke your heart?

  Amy nodded.

  “What did he do, the little punk?”

  Could it be that maybe, just maybe, Quentin did care about her? The thought warmed her insides.

  “He took a note I’d written him, and read it to the entire fifth and sixth grades and their families. We were at an assembly and kids were doing skits. Instead of a skit, Stevie read my note—complete with a high-pitched girlie voice. ‘Dear Stevie, I like you. Do you like me? Yes or no? Love, Amy Welsh.’ Everyone in the entire building laughed at me, and I wanted to die on the spot. Naturally, I didn’t. I was teased mercilessly for weeks after that.”

  “I hope he grew up to marry an army drill sergeant who never cuts him any slack.”

  “You know, you almost described my dad. Except he was navy, not army.”

  “And they don’t have drill sergeants in the navy.”

  “No, but my dad was close enough. He would have fit in the army just fine.” She contemplated her next words carefully. “And then there was you, Quentin. Not only did you stomp on my heart, you shattered it.”

  Quentin shifted uncomfortably and looked in the rearview mirror before turning into the parking lot. After he parked, he took one hand off the wheel, reached across the seat and fumbled for Amy’s hand.

  “I’m sorry, Amy.” The same warm tenderness she felt as his hand gently clasped hers was evident in the soft tone of his voice.

  “You made it so I could never love anyone again.” She felt seventeen again, felt the old hurt like a fist in the stomach. “Why, Quentin? Why did you leave me to sit in the dark for hours waiting for you to show up?”

  He was quiet for an uncomfortably long minute before he looked at her with a steady blue gaze.

  “So, didn’t you love Jared?”

  Amy fell back against the seat. That was it then. She wouldn’t be getting any answers today—as usual. Quentin really excelled at avoidance where she was concerned.

  “I cared about him, but I didn’t lov
e him.”

  “Then how could he have broken your heart?”

  “Well, he—” How could she explain without revealing how she’d actually been the one to do the heart-breaking?

  “Were you engaged to him?”

  “No.” Amy hesitated, still searching for the right words.

  “Then what?”

  “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but I did care about Jared. Not love. At least not that kind of love. Brotherly love. But by the time I realized it, he’d already asked me to marry him.”

  “And you said yes.”

  “No, I—” She sighed heavily. How much of her heart should she lay bare? “I told him there was something holding me back from committing, and I had to put it behind me first.”

  “Something...meaning me?”

  She swallowed hard. Her cheeks burned. She looked at the door handle and considered opening it. A gentle touch on her shoulder stopped her. Before she realized it, Quentin’s strong arms were wrapped around her and her face rested against his chest. She could hear the thumping of his heart, feel the rise and fall of his breathing.

  “I’m so sorry, Amy. I wish you could know how sorry I am.”

  She couldn’t say it was OK, because it wasn’t. And she didn’t want to sound bitter. So she said nothing.

  “I’m the reason you came back, aren’t I? And I’m the reason you didn’t accept Jared’s proposal.”

  “You know you are,” Amy whispered into his chest, mortified to realize her tears were dampening his shirt. She pulled away and wiped her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Amy.”

  “I don’t want your apologies, Quentin. I just want to know why.”

  “Amy, I— I can’t.”

  She swallowed hard and nodded, then got out of the truck.

  As she shut the door, she heard him whisper in a pain-filled voice, “If I told you why, you’d never forgive me.”

  12

  Why had she agreed to keep the duck?

  Amy paced the floor for the sixteenth time, the lump in her stomach growing with each footstep.

  If Quentin and Shayna’s duck lived with her, that would mean they’d come over to visit. How often would they be here? Weekly? Daily? And even if they didn’t, the feathery creature would be a daily reminder of Quentin.

  Why had she agreed to keep him?

  It was only temporary. She had to remember that. She wouldn’t be in Goose Bay much longer. When school let out for the year, she would move on. But even that didn’t matter. Any further ties with Quentin Macmillan would be destructive to her heart. And Rufus was tied directly to Quentin.

  She was an idiot. She had to call and tell him to forget it. He’d have to find some other duck-sitter.

  Tires crunched the gravel in the driveway, followed by the slamming of one vehicle door after by another.

  They were here.

  Too late to back out now.

  No, it wasn’t. She’d just do it face to face.

  She flung the door open, and her heart jumped.

  Quentin was in the yard, walking backwards. A huge smile lit his face as he coaxed a duck toward the fenced backyard with a piece of lettuce. The duck was precious with his dark green head and grayish brown body. Simply adorable. If she didn’t take him, Shayna and Quentin would lose a pet they so obviously adored. Worse, Rufus might end up being euthanized by the city.

  Shayna stood next to the truck watching her father, her smile almost as wide as his, a contrasting mixture of exuberant child and maturing young woman, each warring for a foothold in both her body and soul.

  Amy felt her heart catch in what could only be described as a maternal tug.

  At that very moment, she wanted to take Shayna in her arms and be the mother Shayna no longer had—to tell her it was OK to be herself and enjoy the simple things of life. She didn’t have to grow up as fast as her peers dictated.

  “What do you think, Miss Welsh?”

  Amy smiled. “I hope I can make him happy.”

  “You will.” Shayna nodded, full of enthusiasm. “It’s easy. Just feed him in the morning and put him in the pen at night so the raccoons don’t get him. Oh and make sure he has fresh water, too.”

  Raccoons? Amy felt even less sure than she had earlier. “Wait a minute. I don’t have a pen.”

  “You will, soon.” Finished playing with the duck for the moment, Quentin walked over to where they stood.

  “I will?”

  “Dad’s going to build one.” Shayna grabbed Quentin’s arm and leaned against him.

  Quentin positively beamed. These two had such an obviously wonderful relationship. They must have been quite the happy family. Quentin, Karen, and Shayna. A terrible twinge of jealousy gnawed at Amy’s insides. She felt unsettled, distressed, an envious outsider looking in.

  What would it have been like if Shayna was her daughter and Quentin her husband? Would Shayna be as happy and well-adjusted with Amy for a mother? Would Amy and Quentin still be married? She’d heard more than half of all teen marriages ended in divorce.

  No. Amy was quite sure she and Quentin would have made a marriage work. He’d made one work with Karen, after all.

  Why are you dwelling on the past, Amy? Don’t waste your time that way.

  Amy blinked. Where had that thought come from? No matter how badly she wanted to listen to the words the Lord whispered in her heart, Amy knew one thing. It was easier said than done.

  Father, God, I don’t want to dwell on the past. Please help me put it behind me so I can get on with my life. And Lord, please help me figure out exactly what it is I want and where it fits in Your will.

  If it is with Quentin, Lord—and I’m so afraid that’s what I really want—please don’t let him hurt me again.

  “Amy? Are you OK?”

  Amy looked up, startled at the sound of Quentin’s voice. She saw concern line the corners of his eyes and her heart tripped.

  She sighed deeply, and then smiled at him. “Sorry, Quentin, I was just lost in thought. So, we’re going to build a duck pen?”

  He slapped the side of the truck and for the first time, Amy noticed a roll of chicken wire, a neat stack of two-by-fours, and a plastic swimming pool.

  “I’m going to build it. You’ve done enough by taking him in. Actually,” he lowered his voice so Shayna couldn’t hear. “I’d like it very much if you hung out with me while I work.”

  Again, her heart tripped.

  “OK, but will you at least let me haul some of the wood?”

  “No can do.” Quentin shook his head, reaching for Amy’s hands. He caressed them with his, his eyes never leaving hers. “We don’t want any slivers marring up these pretty hands of yours.”

  Amy felt the blush burn her cheeks and noticed Shayna watching them with interest. She needed a distraction.

  “Why the swimming pool?”

  “For Rufus to swim in. Don’t change the subject.”

  Gently, she extracted her hands from his. “How about if I bring you and Shayna some iced tea? I’ll be right back.”

  Clearly, the attraction between them wasn’t about to disappear. Amy had to work on trust issues with Quentin, but she felt her heart filling with a sense of hope. Was it really possible for them to bury the past?

  Lord, is being with Quentin Your plan for me? If it is, I trust You to work it all out.

  Absently she reached for the pearl necklace hidden beneath her t-shirt, aching for her hopes to become reality.

  ****

  “Here you go.” Amy placed a glass of iced tea on top of Quentin’s toolbox.

  He stared at her, swallowing hard. Even dressed in blue jeans and a lime green t-shirt, she was every inch a lady, and he ached to take her in his arms. Everything about this seemed so right—working in the yard, Amy bringing him something to drink with that wide kissable smile on her face. Just...being with her.

  He reached for the tea and took a huge gulp, unable to keep his eyes off her. “Thanks.”

&nbs
p; “You’re welcome.” Amy held up another glass. “I brought one for Shayna, too. Where’d she go?”

  “She went around to the side of the house with the duck. They’re exploring the yard. This is a great place, Amy. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”

  “I’m glad to do it, Quentin. Shayna’s a wonderful girl. I’d hate to see her lose her pet.”

  Quentin put his tea down and scooped his tape measure off the grass. “She is wonderful, but I’m worried about her.”

  “The Bradley thing again?” There was an edge to her tone that wasn’t there a few minutes ago, unsettling Quentin.

  “Partly.” He hurried to explain. “She’s growing up so fast. One minute she talks about Bradley and makeup and clothes, and the next she’s out in the yard with the duck. But mostly she talks on the phone with her girlfriends and just doesn’t have as much time for me as she used to.”

  “He cares for her, you know?” Amy’s eyes were soft with concern, her voice gentle. She placed her arm on his.

  Quentin set his lips in a grim line and stepped away from Amy, knowing he was acting childish. He knew Bradley cared for Shayna. He just didn’t want to admit it. Nor did he want to think about what his daughter felt in return.

  She was too young, and much too good for the likes of him.

  Oh, who was he kidding? No matter who the boy was, he’d undoubtedly feel the same way he felt right now. Like a father terrified of his daughter stepping too close to an adult world.

  He looked back at Amy. She watched him, almost as if she held her breath. She watched him like she cared.

  When she reached out and touched his hand, her bittersweet smile of understanding zinged his heart. She made him feel so good. She did wonderful things for his senses. He wanted her in his life. He would do whatever it took to keep her there.

  Even if it means giving Bradley Baxter a chance?

  The thought tripped him up for only a second. Yes, Lord, his heart answered. With Your help, I will.

  What about telling Amy why you hurt her? Give her the answers she needs so you both can heal.

  Drawing in a heavy breath, Quentin looked into Amy’s compassion-filled eyes. His stomach plummeted. Would she look this concerned for his emotions after he told her the truth?