Romance in the Rain

by Anthology

  Sam shifted on his feet, his tall frame straightening with almost imperceptible movement. “Holding on to unhealthy anger is worse than obsessing.”

  Another platitude. She ground her teeth with frustration. “You don’t have to hold onto it. Express it like a normal person. Nobody’s perfect all the time.”

  “Do you hear yourself? From the very beginning, you’ve had this warped sense of who you think I am. I’m not perfect, and I’ve been honest with you about how I feel. The truth is you don’t trust my answers.” He shook his head, his jaw set in a grim line. “And if you can’t trust me enough to believe what I tell you, then you might as well leave now.”

  “Realtor, hello to the house,” a chirpy voice said, the sharp click of heels on the cement path heralding the approaching agent.

  “Fine,” Ivy said, raw emotion clogging her throat. She had tried to get through to him, but it was obvious he was either incapable of sharing his feelings, or didn’t care for her enough to try.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting,” the perky realtor said, a cheerful grin on her cheery lips.

  “Your timing is impeccable. I was just leaving,” Ivy said, skirting the woman and rushing up the path.

  “Ivy—,” Sam called.

  She increased her pace. She needed to get as far away as possible from the house before the inevitable breakdown. Hopping into the van, she made it down the long driveway to the mailbox before the tears blinded her. She put the van into Park and, still sobbing, searched for some napkins in the glove box. Her heart was breaking, but as much as she wanted to place the entire blame on him, she was equally culpable.

  He was right about one thing, she didn’t like his answers. Not because she didn’t trust him, but because she didn’t trust her own judgment. Kevin’s betrayal had shattered her self-esteem and his legacy tainted her relationship with Sam.

  A silver SUV drove by, and Ivy caught a glimpse of the realtor in the driver seat before she turned onto the road. Eyes gritty from crying, Ivy watched the taillights recede, her fingers worrying the jade amulet. Sam was alone in the house again, close but a world away. “I wish I could put Kevin behind me and make a life with Sam.”

  From the very beginning, she’d been searching for a reason to place him at a distance. He’d managed to work his way into her heart regardless.

  A knock on the window made her jump. Napkin clenched in her hand, she gaped at Sam standing on the passenger side.

  “Open the door,” he said.

  She complied before wiping the black streaks of mascara hurriedly off her cheeks as he climbed in.

  “Why did you run off like that?” he asked, frowning as he maneuvered his stiff leg inside.

  “You told me to leave,” she reminded.

  “I didn’t mean it,” he snapped, rubbing his knee. “You really have a low opinion of me if you think I’d give up on us so easily. Now can we please talk about this at the house? I need to ice my knee.”

  Hope rose within Ivy’s heart as she turned the ignition. The radio blared to life. “—the government has reportedly seized over a hundred million dollars in bogus offshore accounts set up by John Craddock—”

  “Holly crap,” Ivy said, pulling up to the house and cutting the engine. “That’s good news, right?”

  He climbed out of the car, scowling. “I suppose.”

  “What? You should be happy,” she said, following him inside.

  Grabbing the ice pack from the freezer, he led her outside to the patio. “Money comes and goes, trust can only be lost once. I’ve never lied to you nor have I ever given you any reason not to trust me, so why do you insist on trying to push me away?” he asked, hurt and resentment lacing his words.

  She held his forceful gaze and admitted in a rush, “Because I love you and I’m afraid of being hurt again. I haven’t lied to you, but I haven’t been completely truthful either. The general manager who stole from me was my ex-boyfriend. He had a gambling addiction and to supplement his income, he was skimming funds off the restaurant. Every time I tried to talk to him, he told me what I wanted to hear, not the truth. So when you don’t share your feelings with me, especially with so much going on—”

  “You think I’m trying to placate you, but you couldn’t be further from the truth. This might be hard to believe, but that chair is the singular material item I’ve ever been attached to,” he said, motioning for her to sit.

  Ivy settled into the chair. “It’s beautiful.”

  He sat on the edge of the folding chair and looked at her. The rage that had chiseled his face into harsh lines moments before disappeared. Although he didn’t smile, she watched his features soften and heard the unmistakable affection when he spoke. “It’s a family heirloom. My Grandpa Joe used to rock me in that chair. He was a World War II hero. The stories Grandpa Caldwell shared were amazing and he passed his indomitable spirit to my mom who has never let life’s little speed bumps stop her. My mother is an incurable optimist, but my father was a different story.”

  Ivy watched the lightness shift and sadness take its place. “My parents never married, but they lived together until I was five. If Mom was sunshine, my father was a tornado, a dark cloud with the occasional burst of erratic motion destroying everything in his wake. He was bipolar and sometimes he’d stay in bed for days at a time. Other times he barely slept, drinking and self-medicating. After a while, it became too much for my mom and she kicked him out. He died of an overdose when I was twelve.”

  “How terrible. It must’ve been very difficult for you.”

  “It was tragic, but you have to understand, I hadn’t seen him in years. He wasn’t exactly the paternal type. By then, my mom was already married to my stepdad who adopted me.”

  He stood and helped her out of the chair. He tilted her chin with his finger, his thumb brushing against her lips. “I thank the fates every day that I didn’t turn out like my father. He was so busy obsessing over what he didn’t have, he couldn’t see what he did have. I choose to do the opposite, not to spite my father as you might think, but because I want to embrace life. I might have lost possessions, but they’re not important. The only thing important to me is my family, that chair, and you. I love you.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you too. I don’t want you to be anybody but your own perfect self, only more verbal.”

  “I’m not perfect. I’m your classic overachiever who works hard to get what he wants,” he said, easily lifting her off her feet. “And I want you.”

  She started to nibble at his ear when the rain began to fall. “We should go inside. Do you still have a bed?”

  “No, but there’s a convenient counter in the kitchen,” he laughed, kissing her deeply, passionately as he walked them into the house. Placing her on the granite, he started to remove his shirt, but her necklace caught on the button. He lifted the delicate chain to detangle it. “Is this new?”

  “No, it’s the same one the vendor gave me at the mark—” she broke off, her eyes glued to the amulet. It was no longer jade green, but a snowy white, so pale it was almost translucent. The vendor’s words came back to her. The first step to finding true love is acceptance. Take the necklace. Wear it with hope in your heart, and when you find the perfect man, everything will become clear.

  About the Author

  To Sherri Shaw, the only thing better than reading a good book is writing one. She penned her first novel at seventeen and although she inevitably graduated to a keyboard, she is still creating stories full of adventure, romance, and humor. In addition to writing, she designs her own book covers.

  www.SherriAnnShaw.com

  Aftershocks

  By

  Kristine Cayne

  Chapter 1

  Seattle, Washington State, July 2014

  Resentment burned in Erica Caldwell’s chest as she knelt and wiped a tear off her daughter’s cheek. Chloe’s big blue eyes rimmed with long black lashes—the mirror image of her father’s—pleaded with Erica to
make everything better.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. I know you were looking forward to staying with Daddy tonight. But he had to… work.”

  She almost choked on those last words. Jamie kept letting Chloe down, the same way he’d always let her down. The man couldn’t ever do anything as planned or on time. He was always cancelling, postponing, or forgetting. Just like he’d forgotten to sign their divorce papers. Again.

  “But Daddy said we’d watch The Little Mermaid and eat ice cream sundaes in the living room,” Chloe whined.

  Pulling her daughter close, Erica smoothed her hand through Chloe’s brown curls. “We can watch the movie together.” Work was piling up and she’d been counting on the free evening to catch up. But Chloe came first. She always would.

  A smile lit Chloe’s face and she clapped her small hands. “And can we eat ice cream sundaes in the living room, too?”

  Erica couldn’t help cringing at the thought, but seeing the hopeful look on her daughter’s tear-stained face, she caved. “Just this once.”

  “I love you, Mommy,” Chloe said, flinging herself at her mother.

  Erica’s heart melted as her daughter’s warm pudgy arms circled her neck. There was nothing in the world like a child’s hug. “I love you too, sweetie.” Straightening, she helped Chloe snap up her pink Hello Kitty raincoat, then slipped the small matching backpack over her shoulders.

  After popping open her umbrella, they headed out of the daycare, hand in hand. “We have to run over to the courthouse before we go home. I forgot some important papers on my desk.” When Erica stepped off the curb to cross the street, her sneaker landed in a puddle, splashing the hem of her pants. Good thing she’d taken a moment to change out of her heels before racing over to pick Chloe up. Her new Vera Wang pumps would have been ruined.

  Back on the sidewalk, Chloe pulled her hand free to hop up the steps and into the courthouse lobby. After waving to Mr. Simmons, the security guard, she placed her backpack on the conveyer belt. Chloe had once told Erica he reminded her of a skinny Santa, and given his round face and ever-shiny bald head, Erica had to admit her daughter had a point.

  “Now, don’t you be working too late tonight, Miss Caldwell,” he teased Chloe as he motioned for her to walk through the metal detector.

  Chloe laughed as she skipped through it. “Oh we won’t, Mr. Simmons. Mommy said I could have an ice cream sundae for dinner.”

  Simmons turned an arched brow on Erica. Heat rushed to her cheeks. “That’s not what I said,” she muttered, hurrying after her daughter and away from Simmons. By tomorrow lunchtime, every employee in the courthouse would think she was the worst mom in the county. The way Simmons could go on, he’d probably have child services coming to interview her about her parenting skills. And it was all Jamie’s fault.

  Ushering Chloe into the elevator, she jabbed the fourth floor button. When the doors didn’t close fast enough, she punched it again. Chloe stared at her, a puzzled expression on her pretty face. An expression that looked exactly like the one Jamie frequently gave her. A headache began pounding at her temples. And that was Jamie’s fault too. Sure, it was irrational, but she didn’t care. Right now, she needed to vent. Fumbling in her purse, she pulled out her cell phone and as soon as the elevator doors opened on her floor, she pressed the call button.

  Chloe started skipping down the hall. Since the building was empty except for a few stragglers, Erica didn’t bother telling her to stop. “Don’t go too far, sweetheart. Stay where I can see you.”

  As if he’d been waiting, Jamie answered immediately. “Rickie, is everything okay?”

  The nickname arced through her like an electric shock. “Stop calling me that! You know I hate it.”

  “You used to like it.”

  “Well, now I don’t,” she shot back.

  Hearing his weary sigh, she bit her lip to keep from apologizing. She didn’t need to try to please him anymore.

  “Did you get to the daycare before it closed?” he asked.

  Considering he’d barely given her four minutes’ notice that he couldn’t pick up their daughter, it was a darn good thing the daycare was just across the street from the courthouse. She’d had to race through the halls and jaywalk across the street and still she’d arrived just as the clock struck six. The daycare charged ten dollars for every minute past closing, and the charge doubled every five minutes. He might have money to burn, but she certainly didn’t.

  She gritted her teeth and took advantage of the fact that her daughter was out of hearing range. “Chloe’s upset.”

  “I’ll make it up to her.”

  “Don’t bother.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Jamie, life with you is a roller coaster. She’s only four years old and already you’re making promises you don’t keep. It’s too confusing for Chloe.” And for her. Half the time she didn’t know whether to hate him or love him, so as much as the failure of their marriage rankled her, she’d settled on leaving him.

  “I’m sorry, Rickie. I just couldn’t make it tonight.”

  “Uh-huh. And why is that? You traded shifts with Hollywood, and there’s no big hockey, football, baseball, or basketball game on tonight.” She paused and when he didn’t comment, she knew. The bastard had a date. He hadn’t even waited for their divorce to be final before going back to his old ways.

  Pain stabbed her chest and she had to lean against the wall to catch her breath. After all this time, he shouldn’t have the power to hurt her like this anymore. She wasn’t like her mother—she could survive without a man. After her father had died, Erica had been shunted from one relative to another, while her mother floundered, unable to care for herself, much less her young daughter. Orphaned at seventeen, Erica had had to dig herself out of the hole her mother had made of both their lives.

  Until Jamie’s humanitarian mission to Indonesia, Erica had thought she’d been achieving her goal of self-sufficiency. But the emptiness she’d felt after he’d left, the loss that had filled her, said differently. Just like her mother, Erica had allowed herself to become reliant on a man. But no more. She’d used the time he was gone to make changes, to grow and strengthen herself. And good thing too, given how they’d ended up. Not only had she survived without Jamie since their separation, she’d built a happy and secure life for herself and her daughter.

  After all that, hadn’t she earned her get-out-of-jail free card?

  “Which fire bunny is it? I bet it’s Belinda. That witch was always trying to get into your bunker pants even when we were still together,” Erica spat into the phone.

  She shouldn’t care. It really didn’t matter who he was dating anymore. But no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, she did care. She did want to know. When he didn’t respond, she pushed like a sick masochist desperate for pain. “Well?”

  “I’m having dinner with Dani.”

  Oh God. “You’re going on a date with a member of your team?” The earth seemed to shift under her feet. “How long has this been going on?”

  “Rickie—”

  “Forget it.” She cut him off. Some things she was better off not knowing. Their relationship was over, and she really didn’t want to hear that he’d been cheating on her. She needed a clean break from him—the sooner the better. “Just sign the damn papers.”

  Silence filled the line.

  Pushing off the wall, she looked around. While she’d been caught up in the conversation with Jamie, she’d let Chloe wander off. Her office lay just around the corner, thirty yards away. Chloe loved the whiteboard. She’d probably raced ahead to draw a nice picture for her. Hurrying down the hall, she covered the mouthpiece and called, “Chloe? Sweetie?”

  “I can’t sign them,” Jamie said, his voice thick with something she couldn’t identify.

  Was he having second thoughts? When a spark of hope made her traitorous heart flutter, she swore silently. Jamie was bad for her. They were bad for each other. “Why not?”


  “I lost them.”

  “I thought you’d only forgotten to sign them. How could you lose them again?” She’d already had to go through the trouble of getting new certified copies and delivering them to him once. “Enough with the games, Jamie. You don’t want me and I don’t want you. Find the papers and sign them.”

  The floor shifted again, rippling before her eyes, and this time, she knew it wasn’t just due to her emotional state.

  Earthquake.

  She had to find Chloe. Now.

  Swaying, she staggered around the corner and shouted for her daughter. “Chloe!”

  No answer.

  “Where are you, Chloe? Answer me! This isn’t funny.”

  All she heard was the groaning of the old building. No one was in the hall, so Chloe had to be in her office. Hopefully, she’d remembered Jamie’s earthquake training: drop, cover, and hold on. Erica propelled herself into her office. The room was empty. Her lungs seized and her stomach bottomed out. Where was her daughter?

  Jamie Caldwell shot to his feet as a wave seemed to warp the floor of the firehouse kitchen. With one hand, he braced the big pot of spaghetti sauce simmering on the stove. His other hand gripped the phone. “Rickie! Erica! What’s going on?”

  No answer. No sound. Nothing.

  He checked the screen. Great. The call had dropped. The tremor ended and he blew in relief, glad it was just a small shake-up. Before enrolling Chloe in the daycare across the street from the courthouse, he’d made sure it was up to the most recent earthquake codes. Erica and Chloe were safe there. He couldn’t say as much for the old courthouse where Erica worked. Following the big Nisqually quake, the building had been seismically retrofitted, but two years ago, they’d discovered weak spots in several of the carbon-fiber wraps used to reinforce support columns throughout the courthouse.