by Kris Jayne
Shame engulfed Nick. It had been what he wanted, but it wasn't all that he wanted. He loved Vivienne. He did. Was it a passionate love? Maybe not, but he'd wanted to share his whole life with her. Somehow she thought all he wanted was her family connections.
"I want success, but I want a real family, with real commitment. I'm not getting married so that I can date other people. Look, Viv, we don't have to give anyone details about why we're not getting married. We can say it didn't work out. It's not anyone's business."
"You don't get it, Nick. My parents won't let this go without a reason. You don't know how they are."
"I have some idea," Nick said, firmly setting his jaw.
"You think you have an idea. They want me married. They're already wondering why it's taken me this long. Single in my thirties? My mother thinks that's ridiculous."
"Jonah's not married."
"Oh, you heard what he said, and he's right. He gets to do whatever he wants, going through woman after woman and never settling down. At some point, my parents will press him, but he's got time. I don't. If I'm going to break off our engagement, I'm going to have to give my parents something. That might not be so pleasant for you if my dad thinks it's your fault."
Nick leaned over the counter and glared. "Are you threatening me?"
Vivienne paled. "No. I'm just saying he's going to blame someone. It could be you. He'd pull his business or worse."
"That's not a reason to get married," Nick said, repeating the refrain to himself over and over. He couldn't get ensnared in the Morans' dysfunction.
Suddenly, amidst the turmoil, relief unfurled in his chest. He'd dodged a bullet. His family would be disappointed, but they'd support him. If he told them that Vivienne was gay, they wouldn't care. He'd like to tell her she should be honest, but he knew her parents.
Vivienne wasn't just a lesbian. She was a lesbian daughter to extremely conservative, evangelical Christian parents. Her father had led a local effort to keep the city from extending spousal benefits to same-sex couples. Her brother was hoping to run for office as a staunch Republican. While some parents—even very religious ones—might at least try to accept their child's being gay, Vivienne's parents likely wouldn't go along without a fight.
"We don't have to tell them anything you don't want to. People break up all the time. We can say that we've realized we want different things. I'll handle my family, and you can handle yours. Tell them that I work too much. That's true enough, right?"
"That's not a vice. That's a virtue," Vivienne murmured. A faint wrinkle nearly formed on her forehead.
"Okay, look, Vivienne, for now, why don't we do nothing? Take a deep breath. You don't have to tell your parents tomorrow. Take a week or so to figure out what you want to say," Nick reasoned. That would give him time to figure out a way to secure Vivienne's father's support without having to join the man's family. Plus, they still had to figure out who's threatening her.
"You'll think about my proposal?" Vivienne asked.
Nick sighed. "No. The marriage is off, but we'll figure something out."
"Can we at least spend time together and show my parents that we're talking? I got an earful the other day over why I'm not working things out with you. We can show them that we gave it a shot. That might make it easier to end things."
Her grasping made Nick ill. How much of a show could he put on? Then, he looked at his ex-fiancée's face and crumbled. Maybe she was right. It might make it easier for her parents to let it go if they looked like they were trying to fix things for a few weeks.
"A week. Maybe two, Vivienne. That's all. I don't see why you need to make up a story that will only be harder to walk back later."
"But, if maybe we can set a wedding date, that will really buy us time," she offered, meekly tilting her head.
Nick grimaced.
"No. Instead of putting energy into faking wedding plans, we need to figure out who this is that's trying to ruin your life for money."
Other than me, he thought. Not that he'd wanted to ruin her life. He had no way of knowing that they were as off-kilter as they were. However, on some level, he had used Vivienne and her family connections. They'd used each other.
Nick sighed and put those thoughts out of his head. He could make this right and leave Vivienne, knowing he'd done what he could for her. Then, he'd walk away.
Vivienne pouted briefly. "Fine. Whatever. I'm just glad you're doing this. Really. Thanks."
She rolled over on the couch and embraced him. Nick held the woman he'd planned to marry. Her silky straight hair slipped between his fingers. Her chest rose and fell against his. He already missed her, or who he'd thought she was. What had been real? His love? Her devotion? Their mutual respect? Nick squeezed her tighter.
They used to call themselves partners in crime. Now that moniker seemed more on target than Nick could have believed.
Chapter Twelve
The streetlights still illuminated the buckled sidewalk in front of his mother's ranch-style house when Nick pulled up Saturday morning.
His sister called him late Friday, asking him to check on her. A hip replacement left her with a slight limp, and at times, her arthritis made it difficult for her to get around. At only sixty-six years old, his mother could be in better health, but it could be worse. Nick reminded himself of this when he considered the troubles she'd faced in the past couple of years.
Using the glow of his cellphone, Nick located his mom's house key and let himself into the small brick house. His mother replaced the old carpet and tile with new hardwood floors and painted the walls a creamy beige as part of a remodel five years ago.
The house looked completely different than it had in the 1980s and '90s, but the faint smell of ocean-scented room deodorizer plus a hint of vanilla candles and freshly baked biscuits told him he was home. He walked toward the clatter of dishes in the kitchen.
"Nick? I made breakfast."
His mother had her salt and pepper hair twisted into a high bun on her head. Her housecoat and apron looked like they'd been tossed in flour. She braced herself with one hand on the edge of the counter and leaned over to pull a pan out of the oven.
"Let me get that." Nick reached the oven in two long strides.
"I got it. Grab the butter and jam out of the fridge," Maggie Halden instructed and plopped the round baking pan on the stove to cool. Nick did as he was told and put the biscuit toppings on the butcher-block table.
"Mmm. You made cheese eggs."
"Come here and give me a hug and then sit."
Nick wrapped his arms around her tighter than he had a few months ago. Her faded blue robe hung on her frame, swinging loosely around her legs. Nick sat carefully in the old wooden chair, which shifted under his weight. He made a note to get her a gift card for her favorite furniture store so she could continue her slow redecoration.
"Did you drive all the way over here just to check on me? Your sister worries too much."
"I worry, too, you know."
"I'm fine. I'm more worried about you. I can't imagine what Vivienne is thinking. It's outrageous. And with all their supposed high-born manners. Have you heard anything else from her since you had dinner with her parents?"
"She and I got together last night."
"Lord, do I want to hear this?"
Nick laughed and slathered strawberry jam on his buttered biscuit. "Nothing like that, trust me. We talked about our plans."
"You set a date?"
"No. More like we agreed there wouldn't be a date."
His mother reflexively took his hands in hers.
"Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry. I know you had all kinds of plans for the future, doing business with her dad and what not."
Nick sighed. "I did want to marry her. Not just her family."
"I know that, honey. You had a lot of investment in your relationship," Maggie said and squeezed his hand. "It's official, then?"
"Yes. The wedding is off, but we're not publicizing that yet, so pl
ease don't say anything to anyone. Vivienne hasn't told her parents yet. You know how they can be."
Maggie rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I most certainly do. I'm terribly sad for you, Son, but I must admit I'm not weeping over never having to see those people again."
Nick smiled. His mother never pulled punches.
"Are you sure you're okay with all of this? It's a big step to decide to get married and a really big step to call it off…and to do it so shabbily. She barely spoke to you and then poof."
"I'm great actually. Things are fine. Don't worry," Nick insisted. "We had a good talk. Don't be mad at her. We'll stay friends."
Maggie raised her eyebrows. "Isn't that going to be hard? You were in love with her."
Nick shrugged. "I'm fine." Maggie scanned Nick's face.
"Weren't you in love with her?"
"I don't know. I thought I was. I do love her. Maybe not like I should have."
"Then she must be heartbroken in her own way."
"She is, but she'll be fine too. It wasn't meant to be. We're both glad to know that now and to be honest with each other." Finally, he thought.
His mother narrowed her eyes, shaking her head again. "There's something you're not telling me. Something's missing."
"What do you mean?"
"Don't piss on my leg and tell me it's raining, Nick. You know exactly what I mean."
"That's all I can say for now, Mom. Please, can we let this go?" Nick pleaded.
"If that's what you want, but you can tell me anything. I won't judge."
That might not be true, Nick thought, but she'd be supportive.
"I love you, Mom, but it's not my story to tell. Not now, anyway. Let's talk about something else. Are you and your bridge friends still going on that trip to Hot Springs?"
She fiddled with her eggs.
"They're still going."
"Aren't you going with them?"
"I decided I'd better stay closer to home."
"Why? You were excited." His momentary confusion gave way to realization as she avoided eye contact. His mother only had one topic that she didn't discuss. Money.
"I can help you out with money for the trip. How much do you need?"
"It's not the trip. I got another bill from the hospital. The insurance company denied some of the charges again."
Nick smashed his fist on his knee. "How much?"
"Twelve thousand."
If he weren't sitting across from his mother, he'd have cursed. Nick didn't understand how months later, the hospital can drop another bill on your doorstep.
"I'm handling it. I talked to them, and I'm doing a monthly payment plan."
"What are your payments?"
His mother waved him off.
"Nick, I don't want you involved in all this. I have the money, and I'm working it out."
"You shouldn't have to do that on your own. After all the money you've given me, not the least of which is what you sent me when I was in law school, I can pay you back, Mom. You should be enjoying yourself not worrying about these bills."
"I'm not worried about it," she said.
"Let me help. You know I can."
"You had to pay back all those school loans."
"That's done, though, Mom. Plus, I'm working, and when I make partner, I'll be making more money." Nick's bright green eyes bored into his mother’s pale blue ones. "Let me help."
"If you want to help me with Hot Springs, I'd appreciate it. But, the medical bills are mine. I'll pay them. You need to get yourself established and prepare for your future. If you have anything extra, put it away for the girls or your own kids. You'll get married someday and start a family."
Nick slumped in his chair. Until he achieved his ultimate goals, his mother would always think he needed more help than she did.
"There's no reason for you to struggle," he argued in one more attempt to move her.
"I'm not struggling, honey. I'm taking care of my responsibilities. That's more important than a vacation. If I need your help, I'll let you know."
Nick huffed.
"I will. Scouts' honor."
"How are you paying this back on your fixed income?" His mother had let her manager Sandra buy her out of the cleaning business, and she'd retired after her second hip surgery. Now, she lived off her savings and whatever she'd occasionally accept from her children. She couldn't even draw on her Social Security for another year.
"Sandra let me come back and work in the office three days a week. It works perfectly. I know the systems and scheduling, and I know the books."
"How long have you been doing that?" Nick's voice raised.
"About a month."
"Does Amy know?"
"No. I didn't want to bother the two of you. She has the kids to worry about."
"You're supposed to be watching your stress." Maggie's doctor had warned her about her blood pressure.
"That's why I'm working. I don't have to stress about money."
"I'm not getting anywhere with you."
"There's nowhere to go, Nick. Let it go."
He couldn't do it. He thought of how his mother had worked herself into heart palpitations and an ulcer when he was in high school. She'd blamed it on a spicy, fatty diet, but Nick knew stress was to blame. She'd worked and worked. That's not how he wanted his mother to spend her golden years. Unfortunately, he inherited his stubborn streak from her.
She patted his hand. "You put too much pressure on yourself. You don't have anything to prove to me."
No, but that didn't mean he didn't have something to prove.
Chapter Thirteen
"This is getting to be a pattern, isn't it?" Micky asked after clinking glasses of mimosas at Sunday brunch with Taryn, Alexa, and Pete's girlfriend, Clarissa. Clarissa had been a late addition, but Micky enjoyed her company and wanted to get to know her better.
"What is?" Taryn asked.
"Needing the company of girlfriends to help me get over some lying cheat of a man," Micky explained, taking a swig of her breakfast cocktail.
The cooling weather in early fall drew most diners to the patio, and the women had the luck to snag a spot at the hot new breakfast spot overlooking Klyde Warren Park, just north of downtown Dallas.
"It's not as bad as last time. You found out before you got attached," Alexa pointed out.
"How did you find out he still has a fiancée?" Clarissa asked.
"He told me. Kind of. He's not even sure if he's still engaged. She disappeared on him and won't talk to him about why."
"So he says. You think he would tell you that she stopped speaking to him because he cheated and lied?" Taryn snorted.
"Probably not. It doesn't matter. I don't even know why I'm so upset by it. I hardly know him."
"Sometimes that doesn't matter. You meet someone and bam!" Alexa said with wild gesticulation.
"That's how it was when I met your brother. I was working a corporate party, and one of our servers came back and said some guy wanted to meet the chef. We walked back to the party, and as soon as I hit the door, we locked eyes and I knew," Clarissa said, blushing.
Micky smiled. Clarissa and her brother were cute together. She couldn't be happier for him. "That's what I want. Even if it's not instantaneous, I want it to be simpler than a wife, a family, an almost-maybe-fiancée. Come to me unencumbered."
"Of course. If that's what you want, then that's the standard you should set," Taryn agreed. "Time to move on."
"I know," Micky admitted.
"Oh, my God, you really like him!" Taryn exclaimed.
Micky threw her head into her hands. "What's wrong with me?"
"You've been into him since the moment you met, but you've also known he could have a girlfriend since that same night. You looked like you were going to choke when Lila told you he was engaged to her friend's daughter. You're drawn to him for some reason. What is it?" Clarissa asked.
"When I'm not freaking out on him about other women, he's…charming. I can te
ll by the way he talks about his family that he has this good side. And he's smart. Well-traveled. I don't know. There's just something about him, but none of that matters."
"How did you leave it with him?" Alexa broke apart a streuseled blueberry muffin, leaving half in the bread basket.
Micky dropped her eyes to the table.
"What?" Taryn asked. "There's something else."
Micky groaned. "Well, when I laid into him about flirting with me while he was engaged to someone else, he didn't take kindly to my character attack. He let me know that he knew how to control himself and that he wouldn't ever do anything inappropriate."
"And?" Taryn prodded again.
"He pretty much said that he'd wanted to drag me off to a hotel room, but he knew better. And he wouldn't start something he couldn't finish," Micky recounted. Her face grew hot as she remembered the intensity in his eyes and his voice. Taryn's jaw dropped. Alexa laughed.
"He is something else. Maybe you can wait this out and see what he has to offer?" Alexa questioned."
"Admittedly, the thought crossed my mind, but I can't. I know I should run the other direction and I will."
"If you like him, there's no reason to punish yourself for meeting him while he was ending another relationship. Tell him to get back to you when he's in the clear," Alexa suggested.
Taryn looked dubious and shook her head. Micky's good friend and coworker walked the straight and narrow. Things were black and white to her. On one hand, Alexa was right. Nick had answered all of her questions. He'd never lied as far as she could tell.
However, if Micky met him under these circumstances, how could she be sure that he wasn't the type of guy to jump at anything that wandered by in a skirt? Micky grabbed the other half of a blueberry muffin and popped a piece of it in her mouth.
"In the end, it's not complicated. If you like him as much as you seem to, then why not give him a shot—if and only if he's clear that he's broken things off with his ex," Clarissa said.