Love By Accident

by Michelle Beattie

  His eyes gleamed. "Deal."

  She watched him devour the confection until it was done. "Are you doing anything for Thanksgiving?" he asked.

  "Juliet wants a few hours off on Monday, so I said I'd work a double shift."

  Matt stared at her. "You aren't going to anyone's house for the holiday? You're working here all weekend?"

  "Yep." She re-filled his cup even though it was only half-empty. She wasn't comfortable with the way he was watching her. Yes, it was pathetic to work the whole weekend and not have any place to go, but him knowing she had nowhere and nothing better to do made her feel like a loser.

  "How about you?"

  "I'm heading to my parents' for the weekend."

  A loud Ukrainian holiday. She knew Matt's family and they used any occasion to assemble and serve copious amounts of food. She'd been to a few of their get-togethers and they were always loud and fun. Longing to be part of something so big and wonderful filled Lauren.

  "Too bad you're working, you could've--"

  The bell chimed over the door just in time. Otherwise she suspected Matt would've finished the thought with the idea of her going with him and there was no way in hell she'd ever do that. Matt had come back into her life and she'd been forced to face him. She'd accepted the verbal lashing she'd deserved and now they were working their way back to a friendship. She doubted his parents would be as willing to let the past go. Besides, they likely didn't want her anywhere near their son after what she'd done to him.

  Cougar Denton walked to the counter and took the stool next to Matt's. He plunked his red beret on the counter next to Matt's ranger hat.

  "Morning, Officer," then he extended a hand peppered with age spots. "I'm Jack Denton. Folks around here call me Cougar."

  "Cougar knows everyone and everything that happens around here. I keep telling him he should work for you guys. In fact," she added with a mischievous grin, "he has quite a few stories you'd be interested in."

  "Is that so?" Matt asked.

  Smiling to herself, Lauren poured Cougar a coffee and slid a double-iced cinnamon bun under his chin. With everyone settled, Lauren slipped into the office.

  Betty was working on the books.

  "Need my help out there?" she asked, punching in more numbers into her adding machine.

  "No, it's pretty quiet. Can I get you a coffee?"

  Betty ripped the tape out of the machine, compared numbers to what was on screen. Satisfied, she stapled the tape to a pile of receipts then spun her chair from the computer. "Sounds good."

  When she had the mug cradled in one hand, Betty studied Lauren. "Something's on your mind."

  Lauren shuffled her feet. "I was hoping to ease into it a little slower."

  "Ah," Betty nodded sagely. "You're about to hit me up for a raise."

  "How did you know?"

  "I've owned this café more than twenty years, you're not the first person to come in here blushing, asking to talk to me."

  Lauren blew out her bangs. "Oh."

  "Just because I know what you want doesn't mean you won't get it, Lauren. Did you have a number in mind?"

  "Sort of. My house needs some long-overdue fixing and I could use the money for the extra expenses."

  Ever since Matt had fixed her tap, Lauren had looked around her house, realized there were many other things needing fixing.

  "I've seen your house, Lauren, and it's needed repairs for many years before you bought it. I've wondered how you could live there."

  "I never really cared before but lately..." Lauren shrugged. "Lately I've realized how bad it really is."

  Betty grinned over her coffee cup. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the handsome new man that's been coming in here, would it?"

  There was no way to lie under such a direct gaze.

  "Maybe."

  "Well, it's about time!"

  "What?" Lauren gasped.

  Betty set down her mug. "Lauren, you know I like you, but from the moment you came looking for work, it was like watching a robot. You said the right things, did the right things, but there was no feeling behind any of it." Reaching over, she took Lauren's hand. "I stayed out of it, because I figured you had a reason, but I have to tell you, I am loving the spark in your eyes these last few days. It's good to finally meet you, Lauren."

  Betty's words left Lauren speechless. Had it been so obvious that something was wrong? She'd thought she'd hidden it well. Clearly, she'd only been fooling herself. She rolled the truth through her mind the way a wine taster would roll the drink over his tongue, and came to a conclusion that lifted her heart. She felt her old self stretching and waking within her and thought, it's good to be met.

  NINE

  From the din belting out when Matt opened his parents' back door, he knew the whole gang was already there and waiting inside. He'd barely walked in the door before his mother rushed him, wrapped him in a hug.

  "You're not eating enough," she said as she stepped back and looked him over. "I'll send you back with some food."

  She pulled him to the living room which had so many warm bodies in it they were nearly shoulder to shoulder. His father unfolded a metal chair and jammed it beside his La-Z-Boy.

  "Uncle Matt, Uncle Matt!" Six kids circled him before he could sit. The youngest, Emma, had him by the leg. He reached down and scooped her up, pressed a kiss to her black curls.

  "Hey guys, miss me?"

  A deafening chorus followed his question. Once it had died to a dull roar, his sister came over.

  "Hey little brother."

  "Hey Anna," he said, returning her hug.

  "You look good," his other sister Helen said.

  "No, he looks too thin," Baba answered.

  Giddo, his grandfather, hid his smile behind his pipe.

  "Hello Aunt Mary, Baba," he said and dragged the posse of kids across the room so he could kiss his aunt's, then his grandmother's cheek.

  "You eat all my food yet?" his grandmother asked.

  "I finished the last of the perogies yesterday, Baba," he said as he untangled the kids so he could sit down.

  She nodded, the creases in her face going along for the ride. "Good, I'll send you with more."

  The rest of the afternoon played out as it usually did. There was cribbage played, food eaten and kids fussed over. It was after eight before his sisters took their families and his aunt home and it was just him, his parents and grandparents. The house settled into blessed quietness.

  "I forgot how noisy it can be," Matt muttered, sprawled out on the couch.

  Giddo was downstairs. When his paternal grandparents hadn't wanted to look after a house and yard of their own, Matt's dad had invited them to move in. The walk-out basement had been converted into an apartment for the elderly couple.

  It was just the four of them left in the living room, although judging by the yawns coming from his father, the number would soon dwindle.

  "So the new job is working out?" his mother asked as she dug an unfinished cross-stitch from the bag next to her rocking chair.

  "So far so good."

  "Any nice girls?" she asked, always hopeful the last of her brood would settle down.

  "Oh, well, I haven't had time yet for stuff like that," he answered.

  He sensed the stare and met Baba's watery eyes. It was uncanny the way she looked at a person without saying a thing. It was like she saw right through to whatever it was you may be hiding. He started to sweat.

  "You found one," she said matter-of-fact. "What's her name?"

  His mother set down her needle work. "Did you really? Already?"

  "Uh, not exactly." Matt looked to his father for help but the man smiled and slouched back in his chair. Matt was on his own.

  "Well..." Baba prodded.

  "It's just an old...friend."

  "What's her name?" his mother persisted.

  Well damn, he thought, here we go. "Lauren."

  His father's smile vanished and so did his lazy slouch. "The Lau
ren?" he asked.

  Matt held his breath. "Yes."

  "Did you know she'd be in Jasper?" he asked pointedly. His father had never made any bones about his feelings toward her after the accident. Of course, since his dad had held Matt up as he'd learned to walk again and had shared in the tears of frustration when his son hit set-back after set-back, Matt figured he was entitled.

  "I did," he answered. He never lied to his family.

  His mother shoved her unfinished project back into the bag. "Did you talk to her?"

  He told them what he knew so far, which wasn't much. He explained why she left after the accident and how they were working on rebuilding the friendship.

  "She damn well better feel guilty," his father muttered. "After what she did to Gil, and almost did to you."

  "Antony," Baba warned. "Watch your mouth."

  "Sorry, Ma," he muttered.

  "I agree with you, Dad, but it's not like she deliberately caused the accident, that's why it's called an accident. She loved Gil, she'd have never hurt him intentionally."

  He thought of how fragile she looked compared to how she'd been, how much different she was. "She's suffered too, Dad. She's not the same person."

  His mother's eyes were direct and had him squirming in his seat. "You like her?"

  He inhaled deeply, puffed out his cheeks, and blew out the air. "Yeah." That was one thing that hadn't changed, no matter how much he'd tried. And for years, he'd tried damn hard. But seeing her again, talking to her, brought it back. Damned if he knew how to stop it.

  Or if he even wanted to.

  "Matthew, she's not the kind of girl you need in your life. You're rebuilding, starting again. She's already proved once the kind of friend she is, why on earth would you want to get involved with her again?"

  "Antony, go to bed. You too, Yvette. I want to talk to my grandson alone."

  His mom set her lips but didn't argue. She did, however, spear her son with a look which let him know she wasn't done with this. His father wasn't so subtle.

  "We'll talk tomorrow," he said and followed his wife down the hall.

  Matt waited until the door closed and his parents' muted voices began discussing their son's life. He was thirty two. Some things never changed.

  "You always liked her," Baba said simply.

  It wasn't a question, so he didn't answer.

  "Does she feel the same way?"

  Matt leaned back into the soft cushions. "I don't think so. At least, not in the same way. She's willing to be friends."

  "Is that all you want?"

  What did he want? Well, friendship, for sure. He'd missed the hell out of her. He pictured her in his mind, shiny blond ponytail and expressive grey eyes. A willowy body hidden beneath her too-big clothes. A smile that never failed to draw him in. A personality that had always meshed well with his.

  He knew what he wanted. What he'd always dreamed of. To get Lauren into his arms and into his bed. Who knew what would happen afterward?

  "I want her in my life."

  "For how long?"

  Matt cast a glance down the hall. He didn't blame his mom and dad for not liking Lauren, but it wasn't going to stop him from pursuing her. He'd waited for her long enough. Sighing, he met his baba's pale, sharp eyes.

  "For however long she'll have me," he answered.

  ***

  Soft morning light slipped its fingers through the window blinds. The walls of his childhood bedroom weren't the same denim blue they'd been. The ratty old comforter he'd loved and refused to give away had been replaced with a handmade quilt which consisted of a series of colorful interlocking rings. A queen-sized bed dominated the room along with a menagerie of mismatched antique pieces. One thing, however, hadn't changed. The sheets were freshly laundered and, despite the cool fall temperature, still managed to smell like a lazy summer day in the country.

  Stretching his limbs to all four corners of the bed, Matt sighed. There was a reason they said there was no place like home and he never forgot it. Home was peace. It was a sanctuary to turn to when life sucked and it was a heart that never turned you away.

  And, he thought when he heard solid footsteps in the kitchen, it was a constant. Just like the man whose steps Matt recognized.

  Throwing back the blankets, Matt dug out clean shorts, socks and jeans from his bag. After tossing a sweatshirt over his head, he padded down the hall and into the kitchen nook his dad had added to the house after Matt left for college.

  "Morning, Dad."

  "Morning."

  His father had opened the fridge and taken out a carton of orange juice. Rather than pouring any, he slipped the container back untouched.

  "Something wrong?"

  "Just thought of something better. You up for some real coffee?"

  Matt smiled. "Tim Hortons? You don't have to ask me twice. You drive, I buy?"

  "And miss a chance to ride in that fancy car of yours?"

  "Cool," Matt said, opening the hall closet and taking his coat off the hanger. "Then you'll buy."

  "I didn't say that, either."

  ***

  Matt swung the Corvette into one of the few remaining parking stalls of the nearest Tim Hortons. Pushing open the doors, Matt inhaled the yeasty smell of donuts coupled with fresh brewed coffee. Tables were at a premium and the lady running the Drive thru was speaking non-stop into her headset.

  Matt took their loaded tray to the table his dad had secured.

  "Black coffee for you, double-double for me," Matt said, referring to his cup with double the cream and sugar. He set the cup next to his apple fritter. With his fingers, his father cut into his cruller and popped a chunk into his mouth.

  Silence descended as they paid proper homage to their breakfasts by not stopping until the last crumb had been licked clean.

  Antony Skarpinsky pushed aside his empty plate, cupped his white porcelain mug, and leaned forward. Eyes blue as his own fixed onto him.

  "Tell me about Lauren."

  "So we're skipping the small talk portion of our morning?"

  "I won't lie to you, Matt. I hate that she's back in your life."

  Well, he couldn't say the words were a surprise, but they did tear at him, because he respected his father. Hell, he thought the world of him. And he hated that what he was about to say would hurt the man he'd tried hard never to disappoint.

  "I knew she was in Jasper, Dad. It's one of the reasons I took the transfer."

  Confusion and shock washed over his father's face. Taking a long swallow of the sweetened brew, Matt gathered his thoughts. He may never make his dad happy with his decision, but he hoped to at least help him understand.

  "Part of it was to get answers, but it wasn't the only reason. I missed her."

  "I hope you haven't forgotten the long hours of therapy, the endless trips to the physiotherapists." His voice hardened. "The doctors saying you might never walk again, because I haven't. I still have dreams." His eyes shone with pain. "My son, my only boy, lying so still in a hospital room, maybe to never walk again. It killed me to see you that way. And worse, we had to bury another we loved almost as much as our own son."

  Despite his dad being with him through every step of his rehabilitation, this was the first time Matt had heard those words, heard so much pain in his dad's voice. Obviously Matt had known the anguish the senior Skarpinsky had faced, but he'd done a great job of keeping it hidden.

  "I'm sorry. I am. And I do remember, Dad. I cherish my legs and my life every day, but there's more to it than walking. There's family, friends, love." He plowed his fingers through his curls. "I'm not saying I'll marry her, Dad, but I want more than a friendship with Lauren. But I want your support, too."

  "And if I can't give it to you?"

  "I'd like to think in time you'd come to understand and maybe even give her another chance."

  Once again silence dominated, only now there wasn't the excuse of donuts between them. Matt finished his coffee and toyed with his mug. It was like watch
ing the doctors walk into his room with a diagnosis and hesitating to say the words aloud. Was it good or bad? His apple fritter sat heavily in his gut.

  Finally his old man moved. He looked down into his own mug.

  "Are you splurging for a refill too? Or do I only get one freebie?"

  "Does that mean you're okay with this?"

  "Don't I get my coffee first?"

  "Nope," Matt grinned, leaning forward, feeling encouraged by the light in his father's eyes. "First you need to answer my question."

  His dad took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "Well, if you can move past it, I guess I'd better try. After all, it was you that was hurt."

  "It wasn't only me, it was you, Mom, Baba and Giddo. The rest of the family. But I really like her."

  "We don't have to have the sex talk again, do we?"

  Matt's grin covered his face. "I love you, Dad."

  "I love you, too, now go get me a refill. All this talking's made me thirsty."

  TEN

  She was sitting on the porch when the sleek Corvette purred to a stop on the opposite side of the street. Her stomach quivered. Was Juliet right? Did Matt have feelings for her? God, it felt like high school all over again. Had it been summer, she could have yanked a daisy out and played "he loves me, he loves me not" with the petals.

  The door opened. The interior light reflected off the shoulders of his leather jacket. A long jean-clad leg came first. Then, using the steering wheel as leverage, Matt unfurled from the car. The street light took over where the interior glow left off. Their eyes held. She saw the white of his teeth.

  If she'd have had a video camera she could have taped him exiting his car, sauntering across the street. He was a walking GQ ad.

  "Kinda cool to be on the porch, don't you think? Must be close to freezing." He sat beside her, the wood moaning with the extra pressure.

  "I've got a blanket." Though between first his appearance and now the heat of him next to her, she really didn't need it any more.

  He grinned. "I don't."

  "Then you should've brought your own."

  "Nice, McKinnon. You'd let me freeze my ass off?"

  Carm's words came back to her but he was sitting on his butt so she couldn't very well check it out.

  "Is that hot chocolate?"