I Don't Regret You

by Larson, Jodie

  I think I would have rather been in trouble. Thinking back on the hundreds of dollars we now need for Mike’s truck, what choice do I have?

  “Yes, I can come in. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

  He smiles and pats me on the shoulder. “Good. I knew I could count on you.”

  It’s a phrase I hear all too often. I just don’t know how to say no.

  At the end of the workday, I shut everything down and say goodbye to Brenda. Glancing at my watch, I realize I have exactly fifteen minutes to get the kids from basketball and play rehearsal, leaving me only two hours to prepare dinner, get them started on any homework, and have Cassie back to school in time for her play. Only I forgot to pull something from the freezer last night to place in the crockpot this morning. Dammit. Now what?

  Jacob and Cassie pile into the car, both talking loudly at the same time, telling me about their days. From what I understood, Jacob got a starting position on the team, which is a big deal. Cassie aced her spelling test and got another gold star next to her name. If she gets one more perfect score, she gets a special prize out of the treasure chest. She’s really hoping for the ice cream party with Mrs. Castille.

  As we drive down Main Street, and they continue bickering in the back seat, I’ve finally had enough. “Okay, who wants to go to Lakeside Grill for dinner?” If I’m not making dinner, at least I can control their choices instead of fast food. We’re guaranteed to get something healthy this way.

  “Yes!” they scream in unison. Problem solved.

  The building sits on a busy corner, right in the heart of downtown; one of the few businesses to have its own parking lot rather than letting the cars line the street. It’s not surprising that Lakeside Grill was featured in a national magazine a few years ago, labeling it the “hidden gem of Northern Wisconsin”. The article was a huge boost to our economy, making Stockton a must-stop city when traveling near the lake. Summertime is hectic, increasing our population to more than we can accommodate. Our busy season stays until the last leaf has fallen. After that, our businesses rely on the locals to pick up the slack.

  It’s fairly quiet, just the regulars and a few tourists who’ve stuck around. The outside of the building is simple, plain, only a large cream sign touting the name. Inside, it’s magnificent. Dark furniture, probably twenty tables in all occupy the dining room with a grand chandelier taking center stage. The bar area continues the same dark shade but brightened by the ornate pendulum lights above the high-back chairs and the six tables along the wall and fireplace. Fancier than any place in town, yet it still holds that down-home feeling. How Henry managed to make it work is beyond me.

  At least they have the best meatloaf outside of my grandmother’s.

  The waitress seats us right away. We place our order and play I Spy to keep ourselves entertained. Cassie keeps picking the same green painting on the wall, which only frustrates Jacob.

  “Can’t you make her pick something else?”

  I tilt my head and smile. “Just play along. It won’t hurt you.”

  Jacob rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

  Cassie giggles. “I’ll pick something else. Promise.”

  After another few rounds and Jacob grumbling, our food arrives, bringing the most mouth-watering smell outside my own kitchen. It’s a rare luxury, one I’m affording for tonight due to special circumstances. Even with the impending bills, the kids still deserve some ounce of normalcy. Cassie inhales her mac and cheese while Jacob barely breathes as he eats his cheeseburger. It’s in these few precious moments of silence that I realize how lucky I am to have them in my life. Even though they get along like oil and water, I know that’ll pass. They’re siblings. It’s supposed to be that way in the beginning.

  Something catches my eye and I turn my head to see Henry Monroe step out of the kitchen area to speak with one of the servers. Always the hands-on owner, he refuses to hire anyone else to run his kitchen. Not that I can blame him. His creations have earned him the reputation he has and are what draws people here day in and day out. Even if you follow a recipe, it’ll never be the same as the original chef’s. I’ve tried replicating my grandmother’s Swedish meatballs for years and still haven’t figured it out.

  Henry turns and it’s almost as if the world slows just a fraction of a second. Like a time delay during a football game, making sure nothing bad is said that can be picked up by the microphones. Although he’s not my usual type I can’t help but stare at his handsome face. Tall, blonde, athletic…in the past those were the guys who drew my attention. Henry’s slightly taller-than-average with messy brown hair, and if you’re lucky to get close enough, piercing blue eyes. Not an athletic build, but obviously takes care of himself. He reminds me of the quiet guys from high school. Kind of standoffish, but observant. Watching everyone but not being part of the group. I’ve never heard his name mentioned for bowling league or seen him at softball during the summer. Then again, running a successful restaurant takes away leisurely activities like that. Just shows that I don’t know much about him.

  Oh shit. I’ve been staring at him too long because he starts walking my way. A genuine grin is plastered across his handsome face. Jacob and Cassie are too absorbed in their conversation to notice my change in breathing or the heat I can feel crawling up my neck and face. He sidles up beside me and rests a hand on the back of my chair.

  “Jocelyn, nice to see you.” He looks me up and down with a smile before turning his attention to my dinner companions. “Hey Cassie, Jacob. How’s dinner?”

  “Great.”

  “Awesome.”

  I’m surprised they came up for air to answer him. Henry’s not fazed as he takes the empty chair next to me. “And how about your food?”

  I swallow hard and wipe my mouth with my napkin. “Better than I can make at home.” That earns me another smile.

  “Somehow I doubt it.”

  “Don’t. My meatloaf wasn’t featured in Hometown Cooking last year.”

  He laughs, the sound light and yet masculine. “Will I ever live that down?”

  I shake my head. “Nope. Seeing as your restaurant is carrying the downtown business, I’m pretty sure it’s going to be brought up repeatedly.”

  Henry leans forward. “There are days I wish I never had that magazine walk in here. I’d rather go back to the small family joint this used to be. When there wasn’t a line out the door and I could take a break from the kitchen to talk with the patrons when it’s slow. Kind of like right now. Just think of me not being able to sneak out to talk to you.”

  My blush deepens, only making him laugh. “Such a liar.”

  He shakes his head. “Not really. I saw you come in through the window. I’m just sorry it took me this long to make it out here.” He points to our plates. “You’re practically done eating.”

  “But it was yummy,” Cassie says. “Your mac and cheese is better than Mom’s. All she ever makes us is the stuff from the box.”

  Henry scrunches his face. “What? That’s not real mac and cheese. You need to tell your mom to make the real stuff.” He gives me a wink.

  “That’s not going to happen.” My phone beeps in my purse. An alert pops up, reminding me that Cassie needs to be at the school within the next ten minutes. “That’s my cue. Time to finish up because we need to go.”

  “Cassie in the play tonight?” he asks. I nod. “Yeah, Lauren’s in it too. I’m supposed to leave here before it starts. I promised her I wouldn’t miss it.”

  I nod, waving down our waitress for the bill. “I take it Wendy is bringing her there?”

  On a sigh, he stands. “Yeah. She has the kids this week.”

  The bill slides in front of me and before I can grab it, Henry picks it up and pockets it. “I’ve got this one.”

  “No, give me the bill. You’re not buying our dinner.”

  He just smiles and shakes his head. “I can do anything I want. It’s my business. And I say this meal is on me.” The smile on his face fades. “Where’
s Mike tonight?”

  A lump forms in my throat, along with a hard pit in my stomach. “It’s league night. He’s out with the guys.”

  Henry’s brows draw together. “But he’ll miss the play. Does he know it’s only for tonight?”

  I glance over at the kids, who are standing in front of the pie display, drooling. “He knows.”

  A knowing glance passes over him and he takes a step back. “I see. Well, I don’t want to keep you. Maybe I’ll see you down there?”

  I toss a ten on the table for the waitress. “It’s a good chance. See you down there.”

  Henry waves goodbye as I herd the kids out the door, each thanking him loudly before stepping outside into the chilly October air. I wave back and feel the pit in my stomach go away the instant I sit in the car. For whatever reason, when I see him, it reminds me of what it feels like to be noticed, or wanted. An ounce of kindness goes a long way.

  I glance at the clock again and drive as fast as I can towards the school. When we’re two blocks away, the car gurgles and sputters before coming to a complete stop. It takes all my strength to get it to the side of the road so I don’t hold up traffic. I slam my hands against the steering wheel and scream.

  “Shit!”

  The small crowd cheers as the cast comes back out to take another bow. Cassie looks so beautiful in her butterfly costume. I remember the day she came bounding home, proudly declaring that she was handpicked to be butterfly number one. It was the part she wanted because it had the prettiest costume, according to her. The smile lit up her face and I wouldn’t have cared if she played the smallest role in the cast. Anything that makes her smile is all I want.

  “Mommy! Did you see me?” Cassie runs and hugs me once they’re dismissed from the stage. I wrap my arms around her wings and squeeze her tight.

  “I did. You were the best butterfly up there. I wouldn’t be surprised if Hollywood calls tomorrow looking for you.”

  Jacob rolls his eyes. “She was a butterfly. Not exactly winning the Oscar this year.”

  “She was perfect.” I shake my head at him and smile back at Cassie. “You were perfect. Like I knew you’d be.” Her face beams and I couldn’t be prouder.

  “Jimmy missed a line, but I whispered it to him.” Confidence becomes her. She’s been a little reserved lately, guessing it could be the fact that Mike and I haven’t been getting along. It’s starting to take its toll on the kids.

  “Such a great friend. Good thing you didn’t miss it.” Movement catches my eye and I turn my head to see Henry standing down the row, speaking animatedly with Lauren, who’s dressed as a flower.

  “Mom, which line was your favorite?” I barely hear her question as I stare at them, amazed at the level of attention he’s giving his daughter. Henry and Wendy have been divorced for a few years and he still makes time to attend every school function. He’s more dedicated than some dads who see their children every day.

  “Mom? Which line did you like?” She pulls at my shirt and I shake my head, looking down at her.

  “The one that talks about coming out of the cocoon and being born again. Something about a fresh start?”

  Cassie smiles widely. “That’s my favorite too.”

  When I look up again, Henry’s looking my way, a lazy grin spreading across his face. The lump in my throat comes back when our eyes lock. Something about his charisma, the way he’s always a gentleman to everyone, pulls at something deep down inside me. Yet as he winks and runs a hand over the scruff of his jaw, I can’t help but let my long hidden feelings of attraction get the best of me, causing my heart to skip a beat.

  I glance between Jacob and Cassie, who are now arguing about something they heard in school today. “Who’s ready to head home?”

  They both run to the gym door as I trail behind. I don’t look back, even though I can feel eyes on my back noticing my departure. But we have a two block walk back to the car and I’m sure the temperature has dropped since we came here almost two hours ago.

  “Come on, please?” The engine refuses to turn over, making a clicking noise instead of roaring to life. I know enough to not step on the gas. I don’t need to add a flooded engine to whatever is wrong with it.

  “Mom, are we stuck here?” Jacob asks.

  I pop the hood and open the door. “I hope not,” I say, rather unconvincingly. I wish I had paid more attention to my dad when he was working on cars to know what I’m looking for. Taking my cell out, I turn on the flashlight app and try to make sense of what’s in front of me. Wires and black tubing run everywhere. How in the hell am I supposed to know what’s wrong? I want to cry. More so, I want to yell at Mike for not taking my car in for service when I first noticed something was wrong. Instead he spent his day off sitting on his ass in front of the TV. And I’m mad at myself for not handling it like I knew I should have.

  My fault, once again.

  A pair of headlights throws my shadow across the raised hood as I continue to touch cables, making sure they’re all attached. When I hear a car door slam, I turn around and see a figure walking toward me. It’s too dark to make out the face. My heart kicks up a notch as the person gets closer. I reach for the mace in my purse, only to remember it’s sitting in the car. With my kids. Shit. I say a quick prayer, hoping whoever it is just goes away. Or takes me and leaves my kids alone.

  “Car trouble?”

  I sigh in relief and fall back against the car, my heart returning to a normal rhythm.

  “Uh huh.”

  Henry stands beside me and bends down to get a closer look. He reaches out for my phone and I hand it to him. He shines it on several areas, pulling at a few cables and tubes.

  “What happened?”

  I swallow hard and tuck some hair behind my ears. “I was driving and it just stopped. The steering wheel felt almost locked when I tried to pull it over to the side of the road, if that helps.”

  He nods and closes the hood. “Maybe an alternator issue. Or you ran out of gas.”

  “But my gas gauge said I still had a quarter tank.”

  “Well, I don’t see anything wrong right now, but it’s night and there’s only so much a flashlight will show. Best to have a mechanic look at it tomorrow.” Henry waves to the kids, who are now plastered to the windshield. Nosy little things. “Mike coming to pick you up?”

  I cringe. “He’s, um.”

  “That’s right. League night.” Henry scowls. Cold wind whips by, sending a chill running through me. It’s a ten-minute drive back to the house, which means it’ll probably be at least a half hour walk. And the kids won’t take that well, especially since they still have their backpacks and school work from earlier in the car.

  “Yeah.” I pull my coat tighter around my chest.

  Henry shoves his hands in his pockets. “Let me drive you and the kids home. It’s late and too cold for you to be out on the streets.”

  I want to argue, tell him that we can take care of ourselves. But then I look back at the kids and my heart sinks. If it was just me, I’d walk. Only it’s not just me. They don’t deserve to suffer.

  My gaze meets his and I bite my lower lip. “You sure you don’t mind?”

  He shakes his head. “Not at all.”

  “First, you buy us dinner then you rescue us on the side of the road. You should add being a saint to your resume.”

  His laugh warms me as he inches closer. “I’m far from a saint. But I can’t let you freeze on the side of the road.” He nods toward the kids. “Round them up and meet me at the car. Don’t forget to lock yours up. No need to tempt people to steal stuff.”

  Not that there’s anything to steal. “I will.”

  Henry walks back to his car while I open the door. The kids scramble back and try to act normal.

  “What’d Mr. Monroe say?” Jacob asks.

  I grab my purse and point to their backpacks. “He’s going to take us home since I can’t start the car. Make sure you take everything with you.”

  After
securing my broken-down car, Cassie and Jacob crawl into the back seat while I sit next to Henry in the front. A round of thank you’s are said as we pull away from the curb, heading down the road.

  Nothing is spoken for the first couple minutes. Cassie’s the first to break. “How are we going to get to school tomorrow?”

  School. Damn it. Work. Double damn it. Activities. Grocery store… How am I going to get to any of those places?

  “I…” A tear chokes me and I try to cover it with a cough.

  “I don’t want to step on any toes, but if you need a ride, I can stop by and bring you and the kids to school and work tomorrow.” Henry’s kindness knows no bounds. Is there anything higher than a saint? If there is, he’d be it.

  “Mike usually leaves before us. I don’t want to inconvenience you. We’re not exactly on your way. Besides, I’m sure you have better things to do than drive us around.”

  Henry looks my way before returning his sight to the road. “It’s no trouble. Really.” He reaches over and places a hand on my arm. If he can feel the shiver that wracked my body, he hides it well. The connection is minor and short, but the comfort he gives means the world to me. “Anything you need, you know I’m here for you, Jocelyn.”

  Calm down. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Thank you.”

  We pull into my driveway. The house is dark, no sign of life inside. Mike’s still out, but I knew that. I don’t expect to see him for at least another three hours, maybe more. The kids say their thanks in unison as they climb out of the car. I grab my purse and pull the keys out. They jingle in my hands, not to remind me they’re there, but because I can’t stop shaking.

  Henry covers my hand with his and the tremors stop. “You okay?”

  “Sure,” I squeak. “Everything’s fine.”

  It seems to appease him because he removes his hand, making mine cold again. I open the car door and lean down to give him a smile. “Thank you for the ride tonight and helping us tomorrow morning.”