Happily Even After

by Lena Matthews

  When the bell over the door went off, signaling Creigh’s arrival, A-mei looked up and smiled. “Hey, lady.”

  “Hey,” she called back. The mingling floral scents filled her nose as she passed by the artfully arranged bouquets and arrangements and made her way to the counter. The constant reminder of spring was one of the best things about being a florist.

  “How was your day off?” A-mei asked as Creigh neared.

  “I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain,” she teased as she walked behind the counter and set her purse underneath the register.

  “That doesn’t sound good.” Concern filled A-mei’s dark brown almond-shaped eyes. “Weekend from hell?”

  “You could say that. I told the kids and Dean about the baby.”

  “Oh.” A-mei set the paperback novel she’d been reading spine-up on the counter. “How did that go?”

  “Bad, then surprisingly good.” Creigh smiled ruefully. “Then bad again.”

  Sighing, A-mei hopped off the stool and pulled her short jean skirt down. The action didn’t help much. A-mei had killer legs and an affinity for showing them off. Actually, there wasn’t much of her body that wasn’t killer or didn’t have an outfit that complemented it. Her cousin was a clotheshorse who enjoyed all things pretty and feminine. “Tell me what happened.”

  Creigh wasted no time in bringing her cousin up to date on everything that had occurred on Friday and Sunday.

  “So let me get this straight. He offered to cook dinner so you could rest?”

  “Yes.”

  A-mei slapped her hand down on the table. “That bastard. I hate it when a guy offers to do something nice for me, especially after I break up with him. How dare he?”

  When A-mei said it like that, Creigh felt a little stupid. Apparently she’d told the story wrong, or else her cousin would be squarely on her side. “Okay, you’re missing the point here.”

  “Which would be…” A-mei let her words trail off.

  “He’s doing it again.”

  “What exactly would it be?”

  “Bulldozing his way over me.”

  A-mei stared at her blankly. “By offering to cook you dinner?”

  “It would start at dinner; then maybe next week he’d come over to cut the front lawn or change a tire or put together a crib. I know Dean. This would snowball back into me being too dependent on him. You know how it was before.”

  “And I know what it was like after. I have to tell you, I think after is worse than before. You’re miserable. You miss him, and despite the time apart, you still love him.”

  A-mei was absolutely right. Creigh was still in love with Dean. That’s why she had to push him away. Yes, his bulldozing was a bit annoying, but it was more touching than anything else. As usual, when the chips were down, Dean came to the rescue on his white steed to save the day.

  Because of the type of man Dean was, Creigh knew he would automatically do what he thought was the right thing, which in this case she could already see what that meant. Step in and do the job the baby’s father wouldn’t. Although she would love to have his strong shoulder to lean on again, she knew it wasn’t fair to him. She cared too much about him to do that to him. “What do you want me to say?” she asked after a few seconds. “That I messed up? That I should have never asked for the divorce?”

  “If it’s the truth.”

  “I am n—”

  The bell over the door went off again, which caused both women to immediately quiet and face the door. Creigh pasted a fake smile on her face, but that quickly melted into a sincere one when she recognized the face of her former brother-in-law and part-time employee, Sergio.

  The tall, good-looking young man walked to the front of the counter with a smile on his handsome face. “Ladies,” he said, placing his motorcycle helmet on the counter. “How’s it going?”

  “Good,” A-mei said, her voice filling with pleasure.

  It was a sentiment Creigh understood. Out of all of Dean’s siblings, Sergio was her favorite. He’d been such a good kid, following behind them wherever they went. There were great spaces of time when Creigh forgot he was Dean’s brother and not her own. Her familial concern turned into maternal concern when his parents passed. Even now, she couldn’t help but want to cuddle him and treat him like the ten-year-old boy he once was. “Sergio. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in school?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Just here to pick up my check, Mom. Bedsides, it’s not prison. We are allowed time off for good behavior.”

  “Smart-ass.” She popped open the register and picked up the drawer. She shuffled through the checks to get to the white envelope bearing his name. After picking it up and placing the drawer back on top, she closed the register and handed the check over to Sergio. “Don’t spend it all in one place.”

  “He’s not a kid, Creigh, and it’s not an allowance,” A-mei said in a dry tone. “I’m sure the candy stores are safe.”

  Creigh shot her cousin a curious stare, not that the other woman noticed. She was too busy staring at Sergio. “I know he’s not a kid,” Creigh said.

  It would be hard not to recognize that. Sergio might be younger than they were, but as handsome and muscular as he was, she would have to be a nostalgic fool to think he was a child.

  “What are you doing for the rest of the day?” A-mei asked out of the blue.

  “Bank, back to school, candy store,” he said, tossing a quick wink Creigh’s way. “Then home to study.”

  “Sounds…fun,” A-mei said sarcastically.

  He grinned. “Tell me about it.”

  “Are you studying for a big test tonight?” A-mei asked, her voice casual and unassuming.

  “No, just hitting the books in general.”

  “Oh, then are you in the mood to make a little extra money? We have a delivery coming this evening, and I can use the extra help.”

  Creigh frowned and looked at her cousin. “You didn’t tell me we had a delivery. I can stay and help.”

  “I didn’t tell you for a reason. I don’t want your help. The bags of fertilizer are heavy and filled with stuff you don’t need to be breathing in.”

  “And you don’t want to be lifting in your condition.”

  A-mei and Creigh turned in unison to look Sergio. “What condition?” Creigh asked, startled.

  “Mum…” Sergio’s gaze instantly dropped to her stomach before rising to meet her gaze once more. “No condition.” He backpedaled unsuccessfully.

  “You know.”

  “Know what?” He tried for innocence and fell flat.

  “He knows.” A-mei laughed.

  Creigh narrowed her gaze. “How do you know?”

  “Can we just pretend like none of this happened?”

  “Nope.” Oh no, he wasn’t getting off that easily. “We can’t.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” he protested. “I’m sure if he knew it was a secret, he wouldn’t have said anything.”

  Creigh’s jaw tightened. “Right. What else did he say?”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. You are not putting me in the middle of this.”

  “Too late, buddy. You’re all ready in the mid—” Before she could continue, her cell phone rang. Taking it out of her sweater pocket, she glanced down at the number. When she recognized the phone number for Harlow’s school, she held up her index finger and said, “Hold that thought. I’m not done with you.”

  Walking a few feet away, she answered her cell. “Hello.”

  “Mom.” Harlow’s voice sounded frantic and choppy, as if she was close to tears.

  “What’s wrong?” Every muscle in Creigh’s body stiffened in preparation for bad news.

  “My science report is due today, and I can’t find it anywhere. I put it my backpack; I know I did, but I can’t find it anywhere.”

  Creigh let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and said a little silent prayer of thanks before speaking. “When was the last time you worked on it?”

&
nbsp; “I worked on it at Dad’s, but I cleaned up my folder last night at home, and I know it was in there.”

  “Are you absolutely sure?”

  Her daughter hesitated. “No. Can you check for me? It’s very important. It’s worth forty percent of my grade. Mr. Lorne said if I turn it in by the end of the day, he’ll still give me full credit. Please, Mommy.”

  Oh now she was Mommy. “I’ll go look. Call me after your next class.”

  “I will. Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said drily. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Oh, Mom. Can you call Dad and ask him to check his house too?”

  “Har—”

  A loud ringing in the background blared over the line. “That was the bell. I have to go. Thanks a million.”

  Before Creigh could respond, her daughter disconnected, leaving Creigh cursing under her breath. One day. One day without drama was all she asked for.

  “Everything okay?” A-mei asked from behind her.

  “Just peachy.” Creigh took a deep calming breath before turning back. “Think you can hold the fort down for a bit longer? I have to go on recon duty.”

  “Of course.”

  “Wonderful. I owe you one. And you.” Creigh focused her attention on Sergio. “Don’t think you’re getting off so easy. You and I are going to have a conversation.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  Neither could she.

  ———

  The ringing doorbell stirred Dean from a light slumber. Blinking, he glanced around his living room, trying to gather his bearings. Smacking his lips, he sat up and ran his hand through his hair, shaking off the lingering fog from his head.

  God, he was tired.

  The doorbell rang again, this time followed by a heavy pounding. Irritated at the commotion, he rose from the couch and made his way over to the entrance, intent on giving whoever was on the other side a piece of his mind. Unlocking the door, he swung it open, words on the ready. They quickly died in his throat when he realized it was Creigh on the other side.

  “What’s going on?” Dean opened the door so she could pass, still a bit groggy from the nap.

  “I should be asking you.” Creigh brushed past him and into the living room. Her expression was far from that of someone who was pleased. This time Dean knew he was in the clear. All he’d been doing was lying on the couch like putty. “I’ve been trying to call you for the last forty minutes. I was beginning to think something was wrong with you.” Creigh turned on him and held out her hand. Her index finger and her thumb were just inches apart. “I was this close to calling your brother and the cops. And in that order.”

  Dean cringed as he closed the door and made his way over to the couch, giving her the recliner because he knew it was much easier for her to get up out of it. Sitting down, he cast a quick guilty glance at the house phone, which was lying on the floor, half under the table. He’d taken it off the hook in his bid for peace and quiet. He hadn’t even bothered turning his cell on, and now he was paying for it, rightfully so. Anything could have happened to the kids, might have still, for all he knew.

  Manning up, he took the responsibility and the blame. “Sorry, that was irresponsible of me. I was taking a sick day, and those fools at the plant kept calling me. I got tired of it and turned the phones off.”

  The angry look on her face quickly morphed into one of concern. “Are you okay?”

  The instant melt touched him. She cared, even though he knew she didn’t want to. “I was having a little vision problem.”

  “Oh no.” Creigh leaned in closer to him and peered intently into his eyes, as if her supermom powers could see right through his corneas and to the issue at hand. “What’s wrong?”

  “I couldn’t see myself going to work today.”

  “Oh.” She let out a relieved sigh. “I was worried there for a moment.”

  Dean quirked a brow. “Oh really?”

  “Well, you know.” She glanced away as if embarrassed by her obvious concern and pushed a strand of her silky dark brunette hair behind her ear. She was looking exceptionally lovely today. The pretty orange peasant shirt she wore complemented her dark brown skin and brought to mind, for some random reason, the sun setting on the Caribbean. It also billowed a little in the front, in what he could only surmise was an attempt to keep the pregnancy under wraps for a bit longer. Either way, she looked beautiful, and it would be very un-Italian of him to see a beautiful woman and not compliment her. He might even get kicked out of NIAF for it.

  “I like that shirt on you.” He reached out and fingered the soft material. “And I like that you care enough to worry.”

  “Some habits are harder to break than others.”

  He toyed with the material, loving the feel of it, loving even more that it was the only thing standing between him and Creigh’s milky brown skin. “I’ve been saying that for a while.”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you faked sickness just to win the argument to see if you’d get a reaction from me.”

  She pulled her shirt free of him, but not in a mean-spirited or irritable manner. If Dean didn’t know better, he would say that his little wildcat was feeling a bit shy.

  “You came to my house, cara.” He added his pet name for her softly, smiling on the inside when she blushed. Creigh had always loved it when he spoke Italian to her, especially when he did it when they were in bed.

  “Your house.” She shook her head as if to clear her thoughts and stood up. “I forgot I’m here for a reason.”

  “Pity the reason’s not me.”

  Creigh started at his comment but then forged on. “Harlow can’t find her science report.”

  Dean frowned. “The one that was due today?”

  His knowledge appeared to floor Creigh. “You knew about that?”

  Dean might have fallen down on the job as a husband, but he was most proud of his interaction and his participation with his children. With them, he was never second-rate. “Didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I just…” She waved her hand as if shooing the conversation away. “Never mind. Have you seen it? I’ve looked everywhere at home, and I can’t find it.”

  “I haven’t seen anything, but of course I wasn’t looking for a report either.” He waved his hand around his living room, which was still showing signs of the kids’ last visit. “Why don’t you check down here, and I’ll go search her room. It’s bound to turn up somewhere.”

  “Okay.”

  Dean took the stairs two at time in an attempt to find the paper in a hurry. Harlow took her schoolwork a little more seriously than he would prefer. He worried she would get an ulcer if she wasn’t careful. The worst part was, it was all pressure she put on herself to be the best. He and Creigh were really going to have to work on a way to get that under control. And soon. After searching not only Harlow’s, but Hamilton’s and his own room as well, Dean made his way back downstairs to deliver the bad news to Creigh. To his surprise, though, Creigh wasn’t in the living room where he’d left her. He softly called out her name as he turned the hall and headed into the kitchen. When he neared the doorway, he spotted her shuffling through papers on the small round table in the corner.

  “No luck.”

  “Me either.” Her voice was wooden, her shoulders stiff, her demeanor completely different than it was just minutes ago.

  Great. What did he do now? “What’s wrong?”

  “What happened to the wall?” She spoke without looking up at the spot in question, her gaze still focused on the pile in front of her.

  Dean groaned and rubbed his hand over his eyes. Just what he needed, more proof of his incompetence. He was batting a thousand today. “The wall ran into my fist.”

  “Funny, I didn’t notice that Friday.”

  “Yeah,” he admitted. “Probably happened after you left.” Like two minutes after.

  “Probably?”

  He hadn’t imagined he could possibly feel wo
rse than he did when he let loose and put his hand through the wall. Man, was he wrong. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “You assaulted your home. I would disagree.”

  “Creigh.” He sighed. “I…” Dean tried to think of something to say that could explain his testosterone-laden actions, but nothing came to mind. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Uh-huh.” She sounded less than convinced.

  Dean let out a frustrated breath. “Will you look at me?” he asked, tired of staring at the top of her head.

  She glanced up, and he realized why she hadn’t before. Her big brown eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.

  To his dismay, a few wayward drops escaped, breaking his heart as they trailed down her face. “Cara.” He walked over to her side but stopped short of touching her. They were on such fragile ground as it was, two steps forward, two giant leaps back, and he was getting damn tired of the moving around. “Don’t upset yourself.”

  She swiped angrily at her cheek. “Stupid pregnancy hormones. Just ignore me. It’s nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing.” His arms itched to wrap around her.

  “Yes, it is. I feel so stupid.”

  “I assure you not half as stupid as I felt trying to explain to Hamilton why I punched the wall. He was so impressed with my show of strength he begged me not to fix it right away.” Dean walked over to the wall and pointed to a small smudge beneath the hole he made. “See this? He tried to copy me. Didn’t quite make it, which strangely made my excellent example of fatherhood even more impressive to him.”

  “That sounds like him.” She laughed softly. After wiping her face dry, she took a deep breath; then she shot him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Okay, hormonal break over. Back to work.” Creigh started to shuffle through the papers on the table once more as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. “If you want, you can just wait in the other room. I’ll be done in a second and out of your hair.”

  Irritated, Dean watched her pull away. Creigh was distancing herself from him just the way she had a year ago, right before she’d asked for the divorce. He hadn’t understood what it meant then, but he damn sure knew what it meant now, and he wasn’t going to sit idly by this time and watch it happen. “You sure you don’t have that the other way around?”