by Cindy Kirk
“Ah, the memories.”
“Now I know where to give the credit for those fine meals you made me.”
“They did turn out well. Most of them, anyway.” Some of her favorite memories of the months they’d dated centered around Friday-night dinners.
After shopping for ingredients, they’d prepare a meal together. Well, actually, she’d cooked and he’d helped by doing whatever she told him to do.
Over the dish-of-the-week and a glass of wine, they’d shared what had gone on in their lives during the week. For dessert, they’d made love.
When they’d split, Lindsay missed the conversations as much as the physical closeness. Only recently had it hit her they’d barely scratched the surface of what made each other tick. Had they kept things superficial, knowing they wouldn’t stick?
Owen glanced at the rest of the displays. “When do they have to be completed?”
“October twentieth. They’ll be on display the week before homecoming.”
“Homecoming is late this year,” Owen murmured.
“We scheduled it for when the Packers have a bye week in the hopes Krew can make it. We decided to start the Harvest Festival a week earlier than normal to match homecoming. Not exactly tradition, but it will work out.” Lindsay fingered the tassel of the National Honor Society’s scarecrow. “If we’d known he’d rupture his spleen in September and be off on medical leave, we would have scheduled it sooner.”
“Once homecoming is over, it’ll be the holidays.” Owen’s brows pulled together. “Then it will be a new year.”
A sense of dread gripped Lindsay. Something was obviously on Owen’s mind. If she was reading him correctly, whatever was bothering him didn’t have a thing to do with homecoming.
“I need to ask you something.”
Her heart flip-flopped. She managed a careless wave. “Ask away.”
“When are we going to let people know about the baby?” Owen cleared his throat. “And, you know, tell them we’re back together?”
Back together.
Lindsay bent over and inspected a scarecrow holding a brand of camera popular during their high school years. When she straightened, she was in full control of her emotions.
“We’re not back together.” She kept her tone matter-of-fact. “As far as any public announcements, I’d like to keep this pregnancy between us for a while longer.”
Startled surprise crossed his face. “Why wait?”
“Right now, I don’t have time to deal with my mother and her extreme disappointment.” As that was all she planned to say on the matter, Lindsay spun on her heel and headed toward the gymnasium door.
Owen quickly caught up to her, slipping past her to hold open the heavy door.
They continued down the hall, their footfalls the only sounds as they strode down the deserted corridor.
“I bet Anita would find it easier to accept the news about the baby if you told her we were getting married.”
“Possibly.” When he raised a brow, she amended, “Probably. But we aren’t, and I can handle my mom.”
“Getting married makes sen—”
“Stop. Will you just stop?” Her voice came out sharper than she’d intended, but she’d had enough. “I’ve given you my decision. The answer is no. I won’t marry you.”
Owen lifted both hands, palms out. “Just hear me out. Two minutes. Give me two minutes.”
Making a great show of looking at her watch, Lindsay pursed her lips and gave a go-ahead nod.
“I married the first time for love. I was head over heels for Tessa. She seemed to feel the same about me. Within a few years, our marriage fell apart.” Owen paced the width of the hall. “I now believe it isn’t a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that sinks most marriages. I see friendship being the key. It’s the spark that makes marriages last.”
“I happen to agree with you.”
“You do?” Hope filled his hazel eyes. “So you’ll—”
“I believe couples who marry should be friends. Hopefully, best friends. But while friendship alone may be enough for some women…” Lindsay shook her head. “It’s not enough for me. I want love, as well.”
Owen’s gaze searched her face, and Lindsay willed him to see she meant every word. This wasn’t some game she was playing.
After a moment, he rubbed the bridge of his nose as if fighting a headache. “Okay. If that’s how you feel, we need to discuss joint custody.”
Lindsay inhaled sharply, one hand rising to her throat. “A baby’s place is with her mother.”
“A baby’s place is also with her father.” Owen emphasized the word. “I’ve cared for an infant, and owning an established business gives me flexibility.”
He wanted to take her baby.
Okay, so maybe that wasn’t fair. But Lindsay had assumed she’d have full custody. She twisted her fingers together. “Is this a threat, a way to try to get me to marry you?”
“Do you really think I’d stoop that low?” Hurt underscored Owen’s shocked tone. “I want to be a father to our child, Lin. I still believe the best way to do that is for us to marry. But if you aren’t interested in marrying me, sharing custody of our daughter seems a logical next step.”
While on the surface his request appeared reasonable, Lindsay wasn’t about to agree without more information. “I’ll look into it. Constantly moving back and forth from one house to another seems like it would be hard on a baby. But maybe I’m wrong.”
“I’ll be interested in hearing what you find out.” Owen reached out and touched her arm. “Thanks for being so open.”
Lindsay ignored the heat of his fingers against her skin and kept her tone even. “Married or not, we’re in this parenthood thing together.”
Their exchange was so civilized, so businesslike that Lindsay wanted to weep. When she’d dreamed of one day having a baby, she’d never imagined needing to have a custody talk with her child’s father.
Then again, having a baby with a man who didn’t love her had never been part of the dream.
Thirteen
The General Store in Good Hope had been owned by Eliza’s family for generations. The commercial Italianate building sat next to the Good Hope Market and contained everything from bug repellent and fishing lures to a full-service pharmacy.
When Eliza’s grandmother had died, instead of giving the business to her son—who had no interest in remaining in the community—she’d left it to her beloved granddaughter.
“This place is as close as we come to a Good Hope institution.” Lindsay stood at the counter with Eliza and gazed down the aisles. “It hasn’t changed much since I was a kid.”
Eliza’s fingers absently stroked the side of the ornate cash register that had sat on the same counter for generations. “When something isn’t broken, why fix it?”
Lindsay gestured with one hand to the shelves housing batteries, webbing for snow shoes and other assorted necessities. “Are you sure you want a floral shop messing with the ambience?”
Eliza snorted out a laugh, then sobered.
“Change is a part of life.” Eliza searched her face. “How are you holding up, Lin? This has to be difficult.”
Was Eliza talking about the pregnancy? About the fact that she was thrust back into interacting with the man who’d dumped her? Or the loss of her job and the start of a new business? Any and all applied to her current situation.
“It’s been a challenge.” Lindsay had read somewhere that when you said something aloud, your ears heard the comment and that reinforced the thought in your brain. “But I’m excited about the direction my life is taking.”
To add extra weight to the words and imprint the comments fully in her brain, she added a smile.
Though the skeptical look in Eliza’s eyes told Lindsay she wasn’t fully convinced, she slowly nodded. “You’re a strong woman. I have a feeling that one day you’ll look back and say getting pregnant and quitting your job were the best things that ever happened to you.
”
Old habits died hard, and Lindsay struggled not to argue, to assert she wasn’t strong at all. That inside she was still that nine-year-old scared-to-death swimmer in Green Bay, furiously dog-paddling as the waves pushed her farther from shore.
On that particular occasion, her father had rescued her. She remembered clinging to him, weeping when she realized she was safe in his arms. But he was gone now, and her mother, though a lovely woman in many ways, would be the type to stand on the shore and chide her for letting herself drift out so far.
Just like she’d felt in the waves that day, Lindsay felt battered. Too many changes. Too fast. She wished she still had a job at the Enchanted Florist. At least that would be familiar and—
“Kyle and Beck will move the units on Wednesday.”
Lindsay jerked her attention back to her friend.
“Kyle said he’ll put together a counter where you can take orders.” Eliza gestured carelessly toward the back of the store. “There isn’t room for another office, so you and I will share.”
When Lindsay opened her mouth to say that she didn’t need office space and was absolutely not going to crowd Eliza in the small—heck, tiny—office in the back, Eliza raised a hand, palm out. “If you’re worried we’ll be tripping over each other, don’t be. My husband does a lot of bidding from home, so I do most of my paperwork there. I enjoy spending time with Kyle.”
The sharp edges to Eliza’s face softened, the way they always did when her husband’s name found its way to her lips.
“You understand what it’s like to navigate change.”
Okay, so perhaps Lindsay could have smoothed the transition a bit, but she couldn’t take the extra seconds. If she had, Eliza might have brought up something else about the new business.
Right now, all the wonderful changes in her life were beginning to stress her out. Adding to that stress was Owen’s request for joint custody.
Eliza arched a brow. Even with a plain green bib apron pulled around her trim waist, her friend was a beautiful woman. She’d always been pretty, but since she’d met Kyle, happiness radiated from her like rays of the sun.
Lindsay had no doubt that if she’d told Eliza that, her friend would fix a steely gaze on her and Lindsay would dissolve into a puddle at her feet.
“What specific change in my life are we discussing?” Eliza prompted.
“When your dad sold the house out from under you last spring.” Lindsay couldn’t believe Eliza even had to ask. “When Kyle bought it and moved in.”
Eliza’s lips curved into a slow smile. “I was furious at my father. And at Kyle when he insisted on moving in. Then when his sister came to live with us…”
“Don’t forget Katherine,” Lindsay reminded her. “When she returned to Good Hope, Kyle invited her to live with you.”
“I was ready to explode.” Eliza gave a little laugh. “The routine I’d once embraced disappeared. I was forced to accept a new normal.”
She waited while Eliza rang up a customer and the bells over the door jingled his departure.
“You were comfortable with your routine.” Lindsay had always considered that was one of the many things she and Eliza had in common.
“Too comfortable. I’d gotten in a rut.”
Lindsay sighed. “I miss my rut.”
Eliza pinned her with steel-gray eyes. “What haven’t you told me?”
Hedging wasn’t an option. Eliza would get it out of her. Besides, sharing her troubles with friends always made her feel better. “Owen wants joint custody.”
Eliza waited. “And?”
“Isn’t that enough? He wants to take my baby from me.”
“She’s his baby, too.” Eliza reminded her, as if Lindsay needed reminding. “Owen loves kids. He was a stellar dad. Frankly, I’d be surprised if he didn’t ask for joint custody. Are you saying you want to keep the baby from him?”
“No, but—”
“Why won’t you give the guy a chance to step up and do the right thing?”
“You think I should marry him.” Disappointment added a heaviness to Lindsay’s words.
“That isn’t what I said.” Eliza searched her face. “I realize this is difficult for you.”
“The only reason Owen wants to marry me is because he feels obligated.” Lindsay cleared her throat. “Remember, he broke up with me.”
“I remember.”
The softly spoken acknowledgment had Lindsay’s heart lurching.. “At first, it was just friendship between us.”
“That was when you were still engaged to Dan.”
“It wasn’t until after I ended my engagement that things began to heat up. But Owen was grieving.”
“You held back.”
“I didn’t trust his feelings.” Lindsay shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. “He had just lost his daughter.”
Eliza nodded, her eyes never leaving Lindsay’s face.
“For years, I’d felt this sizzle whenever Owen was nearby. Nothing came of it.” Lindsay moistened her lips with her tongue. “Nothing probably would ever have come of it. Then I was in the right place at the right time.”
Lindsay thought back to the days after Mindy’s death and the months following. Their relationship had built slowly before exploding like fireworks over Green Bay in July.
Eliza inclined her head. “Are you saying it was simply the situation?”
“We never should have gotten sexually involved. It was too much, too fast.” Emotion welled up, and when she spoke, her voice was thick. “I believe Owen likes me, but in many ways we’re still strangers.”
Lindsay thought about how only recently they’d shared information about their backgrounds. “There was this strong sexual pull. I wanted so much to be close to him that I let myself believe that us sleeping together meant more than it probably did.”
When Eliza didn’t comment, Lindsay shrugged. “That’s pretty much where we stand.”
“Your relationship never had a fair chance.” Eliza’s expression turned pensive. “With Owen grieving, it wasn’t the time to build anything lasting.”
Despite tears stinging the backs of her eyes, Lindsay forced a light tone. “Now it’s too late.”
“It’s not too late.” Eliza never pulled punches, and she didn’t start now. “Give the guy a second chance. Give yourself that second chance, as well.”
“You think I can’t do this on my own.” Despite telling herself the only thing that mattered was what she believed, the thought stung.
Eliza laughed. “Oh, puh-leeze. You’re one of the strongest women I know. I absolutely think you can do this on your own. And you won’t be alone, because you’ll have all of us to help you.”
Lindsay swallowed hard.
“If you don’t want Owen, I’ll support you.” The look Eliza gave her was as steady as the clasp of the hand she rested on Lindsay’s shoulder. “All I’m saying is be sure of how you feel before making any final decisions.”
Before Lindsay could respond, the bells over the door sounded and several women walked into the store.
“Let’s continue this in the back.” Eliza made a come-on gesture, and Lindsay reluctantly followed her.
On the way, Eliza caught the attention of the pretty strawberry-blonde stocking shelves. “Jackie, I’ll be in my office.”
Jackie White straightened, resting a hand against the shelves to steady herself. She nodded. “I’ll watch the cash register.”
“How long has Jackie been working for you?” Lindsay asked, eager to change the subject.
“She started shortly after school started.” Eliza added in a matter-of-fact tone, “She’s a good employee.”
Coming from Eliza, it was high praise.
“She and Cory had a rough go of it.” Lindsay shook her head. “I remember when they were going to lose their house. Until a mysterious someone made that large donation to the Giving Tree that covered their back payments.”
“Neighbors helping neighbors.” Eliza’s
lips curved. “That’s what the Giving Tree is all about.”
“Was it you?” Lindsay asked, wondering why she hadn’t made the connection before.
Eliza gestured to a chair, then took a seat behind her desk. “Was what me?”
“Did you donate the money and designate it to go toward their past-due house payments?”
Eliza shook her head. “I wish I had, but it didn’t even occur to me. I was too self-centered.”
“You were not.” Lindsay rose instantly to her friend’s defense.
“I was.” Eliza made the comment without apology. “That’s what I meant about change. Sometimes difficult changes bring out the best in us.”
“You really think so?”
“I do. I’d become comfortable in my selfishness.” Eliza gave a little laugh. “I rarely empathized with someone else’s plight. I hate to say it, but I was like your mother in that regard. I still have the tendency, but Kyle keeps me grounded.”
Lindsay mentally picked her way through everything Eliza had said. “Do you think I’m selfish?”
She waited for the instant denial.
“It doesn’t matter what I think.” Eliza studied her through lowered lashes. “Do you think you’re self-centered?”
Didn’t Eliza realize that selfishness and self-centeredness were two different things? But Lindsay wasn’t about to argue semantics.
Was she self-centered? The impulse was to say no, but because it was Eliza who’d asked, Lindsay carefully considered her response. “I think it’s more the whole rut thing. Take my apartment. I don’t love it there. My neighbors are loud, and the landlord ignores needed repairs for months. But the rent is cheap and moving can be a hassle, so I’ve stayed.”
“And your job at the Enchanted Florist?”
“Same. I liked it, especially the design part, but I didn’t love it,” Lindsay admitted. “Shirley is a micromanager. Despite all the years I’d been there, she didn’t fully trust me to do my job.”
“You quit. That came from inner strength.”
Lindsay shrugged. “I suppose it did.”
“The baby will propel you out of your rut.” Eliza met her gaze. “A child causes you to look at everything differently. Even though Kyle’s sister, Lolo, isn’t my child, the time she spent with us opened my eyes. Things are never as black-and-white as they appear. When you’ve never walked in someone else’s shoes, it’s easy to be judgmental.”