by Dawn McClure
She just wasn’t sure his goals aligned with her goals anymore.
She’d been away from her family for so long that she’d forgotten what having family around felt like. Sure, Liam had a big family, but they didn’t exactly possess the qualities her family did. She doubted they played cards and ate popcorn while laughing hysterically. No, they were a little more reserved than that. They were more likely to reserve seating at an elegant restaurant and catch up with each other while crystal clinked and waiters who wore suits scurried to make their dining experience unforgettable.
Mel doubted she’d fit in.
John, his large hand lying haphazardly on the top of the steering wheel, turned and pulled down the road that led to his house. They hadn’t spoken since they’d left the café. She figured she’d let him focus on the roads, some of which still had a few inches of snow on them, rather than ramble on about her fears and indecisions. A plow truck had passed them as they’d left town, but though the plows were out and getting an early start, not all the roads were cleared yet. Especially the back roads. They’d be cleared last. But since that plow had just gone by, she figured the tree had been removed from the road.
Riding next to John in his truck felt so…comfortable and awkward at the same time. Close this chapter? Could it ever be closed? They hadn’t exactly opened it back up last night, but they hadn’t closed it either. And that kiss…
His trimmed beard hadn’t tickled as much as she’d thought it would.
Stop thinking about it.
As they came down the road she got her first look at the house he’d purchased. It had been renovated since she’d seen it last. There was a fresh coat of dark blue paint on the exterior of the house, the color accentuated by the bright white trim and shutters, and the gorgeous assorted light-grey stone that covered the bottom half of the house. The stone also climbed up the south side of the house, hugging the corner, a delicate detail that made the house look absolutely beautiful. She remembered the house being a boring white with blue shutters, and the paint had been peeling in several places when the last owner had lived there.
She wondered how much of the work had been done by John. “Did you paint the house and do the stonework?”
“Yeah,” was all he said.
He’d also updated the garage doors, because even against the freshly fallen snow they were a brilliant white, and they had those black hinge accent pieces that she loved. She smiled. She had the exact same hinges on her kitchen cabinets back in California. Smaller, of course, but the same. All her friends from California frowned on them, saying they didn’t like them because the hinges were too ‘country’.
“You’ve been busy,” she said, admiring the new shutters he must have installed. They were three-board shutters. Very rustic-country. He’d probably made them himself. They were easy enough to make.
There was a large, brick-red barn with white trim that stood to the side of the house, looking like a barn straight out of a child’s picture book. His livestock dotted the hills just behind the house. John would most likely check on them later, because of the storm, but they were standing together. Huddled. Sharing warmth.
This was how she’d envisioned her future when she’d been in high school. The dreams of a post-pubescent girl who’d already found her prince charming. The two-story house—right down to the color and stonework she and John had admired once on a drive through the country—was what she had pictured. The barn even had a wood fence for a corral, where she’d have kept her horses.
They were missing a few dogs that would have come running up to the truck, snow or no snow. Missing a few rings on their fingers. But other than that, this was essentially her teenage dream laid out before her.
She almost lost it right there. Here she was, this picture-perfect vision of the dreams she’d once had, the exact man she’d wanted to share it beside her, and yet she was so far removed from the reality of it, she suddenly wanted to cry. “I want to keep in touch. I don’t want you to hate me,” she blurted out.
For once she didn’t want to take her words back, even though she felt stupid for saying them. She felt like she was losing him all over again.
He took her hand with his free one. “I don’t hate you,” he said, squeezing her hand. “This is hard. You’re leaving soon, and I guess I’m just pretending you’re already gone so it won’t hurt so bad when you do leave. I just wish things were different.”
She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall. Last night she could have sworn things could be different. Unfortunately, reality had come crashing back with the start of the new day. Christmas morning.
The reminder of the day brought her up short. Damn. She’d have to come up with something to put on the blog. Something fantastic and uplifting. Something that highlighted a close family who loved and laughed. Believe. Dream. Inspire.
Whatever she came up with had to top last night’s festival and a proposal that never happened.
She’d never felt so damned depressed before, and she had to create an article that would inspire people. Right. Stupid ass Folger’s commercials. They were as sappy and fictional as a Hallmark Christmas movie, and people ate that crap up this time of year. Those sappy moments played by actors wasn’t real life. This was real life. Where you wanted to uproot your city job to the snowy plains so you could marry your old boyfriend and have his children while near your family, but instead you have to go back to the big city that supposedly holds all your dreams and back to the man who was ready and willing to walk down the aisle with you as his bride.
Mel, take a metaphorical breath.
Three short weeks ago her life had been just damned fine. Then that damn proposal text had thrown everything up in the air, and she’d had to juggle all the important aspects of her life to see which things she wanted to keep.
She hadn’t anticipated wanting to come back home to South Dakota. Had never thought about the possibility until she’d actually come home.
Home.
Close chapters. What a dumb thing to suggest!
She opened her eyes, ready to face reality and decisions. A beat-up blue car parked in his driveway came into focus, snow covering the top of it. But that wasn’t what surprised her. It was the four-letter word John snapped under his breath. She hadn’t heard him use that language since he broke his wrist playing football with her brothers, and even then he’d apologized for it. He didn’t apologize for it now.
“Is something wrong?” She looked at John. He released her hand, his intense gaze locked on that eyesore of a car, looking as though someone had punched him square in the gut. Obviously something was wrong, but he didn’t answer her, only lost more and more of the color to his cheeks the closer they got to his house. “John?”
Out of the corner of her eye she caught something move.
The back door of his house had flung open, and Mel turned just in time to see a boy come bursting out of John’s house. The kid had on red pajama bottoms tucked into black snow boots that were too big for him and a black winter jacket, which was gaping open, as though he’d just thrown it on and hadn’t taken the time to zip it up. He wasn’t wearing a hat, and the closer he got to John’s truck, that mop of black hair started to look damned familiar. Without a word John opened the driver’s side door, his look of astonishment replaced by a huge smile. The kid slammed into him, arms circling John as though they had a thousand times.
What the actual hell?
Her mind had hit a figurative wall. But she knew one thing for certain—that must be Ben. But everyone told her Ben was gone.
Before she could put two and two together, a thin blonde woman appeared in the door Ben had just charged out of. Mel could only sit in the cab of the truck and watch the scene play out. The woman didn’t run to John like the kid had, but she’d just walked out of John’s house like she lived there. Either that or she was a squatter.
Mel figured the former was the case, considering the warm welcome John was giving
Ben. But everyone had said they were gone. Clearly that wasn’t the case at all. The reality of the situation snapped into place when her mind caught up with the series of events that had just happened. John being surprised by the car. The kid running out and greeting John like he hadn’t seen him in months. The woman, who was now shyly standing next to John and looking up at him with hope in her eyes.
Mel could hardly breathe.
John’s little family had returned to Pine Grove, and strangely enough, the scene reminded her of a damned Folger’s commercial. Only these weren’t actors, and all the smiles and hugs were real.
The vision of what once had been her dream had become a nightmare.
_______
Sitting on John’s couch next to Ben, Mel was numb, quiet and contemplative. Not exactly what Christmas mornings were for.
Watching the commercial-worthy family interact nearly put Mel in a coma. This certainly wasn’t the best part of waking up. They were far from being a conventional family, and yet the connection she’d seen between John and Ben in the pictures saved on his phone was clearly evident. Her brothers were right. He doted on the kid. It was more than love. John wanted to provide for Ben. Wanted to give him a roof over his head and make sure he was safe, warm and cared for. He was acting like a father—a good one.
But the cracks started to show almost immediately. John and Jessica certainly hadn’t seemed like a couple who had missed one another. Jessica was curious as to who Mel was, but Mel didn’t feel any jealousy coming from her at all. In fact, Jessica had smiled at her more than once.
The woman needed a place to stay. She didn’t want to rock the boat—even if the boat had another woman in it. It was obvious that she didn’t care about John, and John knew it.
John had put on a good face for Ben, but he wasn’t happy that Jessica was back to staying with him.
Ten minutes ago John had jumped back into the truck before they’d all gone into the house, and had launched into a rapid-release explanation as to why Jessica and Ben were there—as though he’d had to explain anything to her, which she’d assured him wasn’t the case. But he’d said he felt the need to explain, and so he did. During his explanation, Jessica had ushered Ben back in the house, all the while casting glances over her shoulder in Mel’s direction.
Mel had taken John’s explanation as to why they were at his house as she was meant to take it: John wasn’t happy with the situation, but he didn’t have much choice. And now that Mel was inside his house, and the unhappy couple had left her in the living room with Ben so the two could have a little chat, she understood why John had no choice in this matter.
Ben, who was as adorable as he was quiet, looked more like a five or six-year-old than an eight-year-old. It very well could be that he was naturally that small, but Mel figured it had more to do with a case of early-childhood malnourishment than genetics. He also needed a haircut. Needed a bath.
He needed a home.
It didn’t take a genius to realize what was going on here, and John was a saint for doing it. Much like the Grinch, her heart grew three times its size at the realization of what John was doing for this boy. But though John was a saint, this left little to no room for Mel. The reality that had crashed down on her during the drive here had taken its finally hit in the form of this small family. There was no going back now. If she came back to Pine Grove, she wasn’t going to involve herself with this threesome. It didn’t seem right.
She cleared her throat, thinking she should put Ben at ease. “So. Are you excited to see what Santa brought you for Christmas?”
Too late, she realized after she’d uttered the sentence that there was a high probability that he wouldn’t receive anything for Christmas today. But John would no doubt fix that. He’d just have to wait until the shops were open again, which would be tomorrow.
Ben, his brown eyes guarded, said simply and matter-of-factly, “I don’t believe in Santa. My mom got me a new video game, but I can’t play it. Not until John hooks everything back up to the TV.” He pointed to a small, brown box that sat next to the TV stand. “I know how to do it, but mom told me to wait.”
That response was a little…sad. Almost adult in its delivery. Kids his age were supposed to be excited on Christmas morning. They should tear through wrapping, their little fingers in constant motion. A huge grin splitting their faces. “I’m sure he’ll hook it up just as soon as he’s done speaking with your mother.” Mel wouldn’t leave the house until he did. “Um…are you excited to be back in Pine Grove?”
The little boy looked her dead in the eye. “I’m never leaving again. She can leave. I’m not.”
She. Not mom. Not mother. She. Didn’t take a psychologist to see that he’d separated himself from his mother in that sentence by using the noun that he had. Mel had no doubt that he’d fight Jessica tooth and nail to stay in Pine Grove. She had to wonder if John would fight alongside him.
Something told her this time he would.
His declaration brought tears to her eyes. It was as though she were speaking to a sixteen-year-old and not a little boy. A sixteen-year-old who had been hurt. She only nodded her head, not knowing what to say. As if she’d been in a terrible accident, her life flashed before her eyes as she sat on the edge of John’s leather couch. Growing up with her brothers. Her father leaving. Her mother’s determination. John. That first-love feeling she’d had with him until he’d left for college. California. Liam.
She didn’t have the problems Ben had, but she understood him on a level others couldn’t. He craved stability, and he viewed Pine Grove, this house and John as stable. He didn’t want to leave. She couldn’t blame him. She’d craved the same at his age. Ben had his mother, the same as Mel had. And while her mother had provided a loving and stable environment, the loss of her father had left an impression.
She had a feeling his mother didn’t provide that for him.
Her mother was her hero, hands down. She’d taken a really bad situation—four children under the age of ten and no job—and had managed to create her dream while under pressure to feed and clothe what must have seemed like an army to her. She’d wanted to open a coffee shop, so she had. She’d wanted all her kids to go through college, and they had. But she sure hadn’t brought another man around the house. Mel figured her mom thought that could have ended badly, so she’d kept out of the dating circuit. Focused on her children. Her independence and taught Mel that quality by showing her what a strong a woman looked like.
Still, Mel had always felt as though there were something missing from her life. It was likely from those early years of not knowing when her mother would be coming home from work. From having to eat Ramen for days at a time when her mother’s paycheck had run out. From having only one parent when most others had two. She’d never take away what her mother had done for her kids, but no matter how hard her mother had tried, she couldn’t replace that father figure. Actually, she’d refused to.
It dawned on her why she liked Liam so much and why she was willing to marry a man she wasn’t entirely head-over-heels for. He was stable, if nothing else. His family was traditional, which meant they more than frowned on divorce. They absolutely abhorred it. You fixed what was broken, you didn’t throw it in the trash. She may not exactly fit in with them, and there were things about that family she thought was backwards, but they’d never abandoned one another.
And he was driven, intelligent, smart…she’d be an idiot not to marry him.
She didn’t want the kind of life she’d grown up with for her own children. And she did want children—preferably before she turned thirty. Stability was better than someone showing up for your T-ball games. Stability was better than butterflies. Stability was Liam’s middle name.
She looked at Ben and his guarded expression. He probably didn’t know what would happen or where he would be living from one week to the next. Knowing John the way she did, he’d put up with Jessica living here to give Ben that stability. Maybe not for long, but lo
ng enough that this little family of two could get back on their feet. He would do what was right, and not what benefited him.
Essentially, if all adults could be more like John, this world would be a much better place.
“So I know the power’s out, and until then you can’t play your game.” Surprisingly the house wasn’t all that cold for the heat to have been out all night. That spoke volumes about the quality of the insulation. “But I’m sure John will have the generator running soon. How about we hook up that game of yours so you can show me how to play?” she asked, hoping to put a smile on Ben’s face.
It worked. He finally grinned like a kid should grin on Christmas morning and shot up from the couch to dive into the box.
She wished something as simple as a video game could do the same for her.
_______
“I wasn’t getting cell coverage and I was trying to stay on the slippery roads. Do you know how many cars and trucks we passed that were in the ditch? How was I supposed to know you wouldn’t be here?”
Which only served to piss him off more. “You shouldn’t have taken him out in the storm.”
“I couldn’t afford to stay at a hotel.” She ran her fingers through her long, curly blonde hair. “Who is she anyway?”
John rubbed his temples and tried to blot out the sight of Jessica’s desperate face. He was torn between the joy of seeing Ben again, annoyance at seeing Jessica, and angry at the timing of it all. To Mel’s credit, she seemed to be taking this all in stride. He might have read a little shock on her face, but once again, she’d been no more shocked to see Ben come running out of the house than he had.
Yes, she was taking this in stride, and she was doing a hell of a better job at it than he was. “She’s an old friend.” He didn’t need to explain to Jessica just who Mel was. They didn’t need to dance around the truth of the situation. Jessica’s coming back had nothing to do with her wanting to be with him again. It had everything to do with needing a place to stay. He wasn’t going to allow her to stay if they had to play that game again. They had to be honest about the situation.