“This works for me,” he whispered. He glanced down at her heaving chest before he returned his gaze to her questioning expression. “Your smile, I mean. You should do it more often.”
They remained still and stared at each other.
Aaron checked the clock, then dashed off the bed. “We’re missing SpongeBob!” The other two boys darted out of the room, their sneak attack complete and now forgotten.
Rachel cleared her throat. “I’m late. I need to take a shower.”
John hesitated, unable to will his body to move from hers. “Yeah,” was all he could manage to say before he lifted himself off the bed.
“Since you made me even later, would you mind fixing their breakfast while I shower? Please?” She headed toward the bathroom, then turned to await his answer.
“No problem. And the coffee will be done in a few minutes.” With a nod toward the bathroom and a smirk he didn’t try to hide, he added, “I’ll bring you in a cup when it’s done.”
She gave him a get-real look. “In your dreams, big guy.” He chuckled as she went to her dresser to grab some clothing. Hands on her hips, she turned back toward him. “You think you’re cute, don’t you?”
“I am cute.”
“Not that cute.” She bumped a drawer closed with her hip, then dashed to her closet. She turned around and glanced at his chest. She read aloud, “To Save Time, Let’s Just Assume I Know Everything.” He chuckled when she gave him an eye roll. “Where on earth do you get these T-shirts?”
He stepped toward her. “I collect them.” Leaning forward, he lowered his voice. Her body responded with a visible shiver. She pushed past him en route to the shower.
“Want me to give you an example?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“Okay, tell me one.”
“My favorite saying is, ‘It only seems kinky the first time.’”
She burst out laughing, then closed the bathroom door.
Chapter Five
Rachel tore out of the grocery store parking lot, her hands clenched on the steering wheel, Carol’s voice an echo in her ears. We’re at the hospital. The boys are okay, but we want to stay with John until he’s released. Released? Why was he there in the first place? Exact details of what happened were still a mystery to her. The thought of him injured tore at her insides while one disturbing scenario replaced another. Hurt enough to need emergency medical attention, he must be battered, bloody. She should have asked for a few details before she slammed down the phone to grab her purse.
Surprised she had already reached the hospital, she swerved into the first parking space outside the emergency room entrance. She jogged to the automatic doors and squeezed through them before they completely opened. Her eyes darted among the people scattered throughout the waiting room before she turned to the information counter. She gave her name to the employee behind the desk and found out that John had been taken to exam room 3. With trembling hands, she gripped her purse in anticipation and headed toward the long hallway.
She stopped outside the door. She tried to gain strength to go farther, unsure of what horror awaited. Perspiration snaked its way down her temple. With a deep breath, she moved into the room.
Carol and the twins sat in mismatched plastic chairs while Zak stood close to the bed. John sat on a gurney, dressed in his own clothes, his legs dangling over the edge.
She hesitated, torn by conflicting emotions. No blood. No moans of agony. No horrible tubes or wires or machines keeping him alive. He was caught up in an animated conversation with her son, delivering what sounded like the punch line to a joke. If he was okay, what brought him here in the first place?
“John,” she cried out with relief. “You’re okay.” Five sets of eyes swerved to where she stood in the doorway, then five mouths spoke at once.
“I wanted to explain a little when I called, dear, but you hung up so fast I didn’t have a chance,” Carol interjected before everyone started talking at once.
“Mom, this bed’s on wheels, and he let me push him around the room.”
“Do you have any change, Mom? There’s a snack machine right down the hall. Carol told us we could buy a snack.”
And then John. “You didn’t have to come, Rachel. I’m okay.”
“Stop, please!” When the comments stopped bombarding her ears she spoke again. “Okay, one at a time.”
All five voices picked up a second time, and her head reeled with an overload of information. After the mouths stopped moving, she decided, as a test to see if silence greeted her, to lower her hands.
“Honey, I’m sorry if I scared you with my call, but I insisted he be checked out.”
Oh, well, that statement was crystal clear. Get checked out? Checked out for what?
Rachel focused on John for some explanation. He turned his head in her direction and she gasped. The left side of his face was swollen and an angry shade of red, and a tiny white bandage had been placed above his eye.
“Oh my God. You look awful.”
“Thanks. Now I feel a lot better.” He attempted a smile but grimaced instead.
She rushed to his side and extended her hand to his injury as if touching it would be proof of what her eyes detected.
He jerked his head back as he lifted a hand to deflect her inspection. “No, it’s okay. I’m fine.” He moved out of her reach. “Just don’t touch it,” he said.
“Mom, you should’ve seen the fight,” Aaron explained.
“Yea,” chimed in Andrew. “The other guy didn’t have a chance.” The twins proceeded to reenact the scene. They pretended to punch each other in the face and upper body.
Fight. He’d gotten into a fight. In front of her children.
Horrified, she stepped between them to stop their horseplay. She glanced at Carol, then turned her head to glare at John. The twinkle in his good eye and his attempted sly smile made her want to injure the good side of his face. Fury rippled along her spine until numbness settled in.
“I think I’ll wait for you out in the car.” Carol barely had the words out before she slid out of the room.
“I didn’t…” John began.
She put her hands in the air as if to block his words. She reached into her wallet, withdrew an assortment of change, and handed some to each child. “Go find the snack machine.” She clenched her teeth. “Don’t go any farther. I want to look out this door and be able to see you.” She ushered them into the hallway and turned toward what promised to be an explosive situation.
She discharged her words like ammunition exiting a firearm with him as her target. “How dare you get in a fight in front of my children? I’ve taught them that fighting is never an answer to anything. For them to witness your loss of control and see you treat another human being so horribly makes me sick to my stomach. How could you?” Her accusation echoed off the pale green walls.
He opened his mouth.
“No!” Rachel shouted before he said a word. “I don’t want to hear any excuses. There’s only one reason for fighting like some animal. Were my boys in danger? Were you protecting my children from harm?”
“No, but…”
A middle-aged nurse entered the room, discharge papers in hand. “We’re turning you loose. Know what that means? You get to walk out of here just like you bolted out of town ten years ago.” She pointed to the bottom of a pink form. “Sign here.” She handed him a copy of the paperwork. “If the swelling gets worse or the pain increases, either give us a call or come back in.” After what sounded like a forced laugh, she said, “Oh, right. You know about coming back when you need something, right?”
“He’s going to build a great activity center for the kids here.” Why was Rachel defending him? Oh, yeah, that was the deal they’d made. Make him look good in the eyes of the town.
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” The nurse grabbed her clipboard and hustled out of the room.
John opened his mouth to begin the discussion again, but Rachel con
tinued first. “You don’t accidentally get into a fistfight with someone.”
“Rachel…”
“Not interested in the details.” Her breath burned in her throat. “What you did is inexcusable.” As if on cue, the boys entered the room.
Rachel’s voice bordered on a whisper. “You’re fired.”
Three faces mirrored their shock, a testimony that regardless of her soft-spoken words, they’d heard their mother’s remark.
John pushed himself off the gurney, a shadow of hurt reflected in his eyes. He walked a few steps, then stopped in front of her and shook his head. “Unbelievable. You’ve blown this whole thing out of proportion.”
“I don’t think so.” She threw out her words like stones. “You burst into my life after all these years, and I lose control.”
He paused a moment as if to let her words sink in. His hands rested on his hips. “Is that what this is all about?” he asked. “Your attraction to me? I thought you wanted to discuss the fight?” Their eyes held for a moment.
She gulped hard, then bit back tears that threatened to escape. “Please don’t come back to my house.”
“Rach, we need to talk about this—”
“No, there’s nothing more to say.”
“I’ve always noticed that about you.” In answer to her raised eyebrow, he added, “You never want to discuss your feelings. Why is that?”
When she gave him no response, he rubbed the whiskers on his chin, then headed toward the door. His shoulder grazed hers when he moved. Unable to keep her eyes from him, she noticed the firm set of his jaw as he walked away. He stood in the doorway, turned around, and opened his mouth as if to speak. Instead, he gave her a harsh look. He shook his head, turned, and left.
The cries and protests of her children grew louder.
She held her hand up to ward off any more arguments. “Stop, all of you! This is my decision. It’s over.” He was gone, and the feeling of emptiness was impossible to ignore.
Zak brushed tears off his face that left a streak of dirt in their place.
She tried to swallow the lump that lingered in her throat. “I know you guys are disappointed, but I’ll find a replacement.” What an impossible task. Find a replacement for John? Rachel mentally grimaced. None existed.
She slung her purse over her shoulder, its heaviness a boulder weighing her down. She glanced around the room to make sure they left nothing behind.
“He didn’t start the fight, Mom,” Andrew said.
“But he fought. He tried to solve a problem with violence.”
“He didn’t start the fight, and he never threw a punch.”
Andrew’s words hit like a physical blow. Since when had she ever judged someone so quickly without giving him the opportunity to defend himself? She sent a questioning gaze at the other two, who simply nodded.
“Mr. Adams approached us. He was teasing Mac about babysitting us. He said some nasty things about you, Mom, and that’s when Mac asked him to stop. That guy swung first.”
An old acquaintance of her ex-husband’s, Michael Adams, had vied for her attention whenever their paths had crossed over the past several years, and he seemed unable to accept her refusal to date him. Every woman in the area considered him sleazy, herself included. After her many refusals, his innuendoes became disturbing. What’s wrong, baby, not into men anymore? If anyone can change your mind, I can. Thankfully, the boys had never been with her when she’d run into him and had been spared his comments.
The image of John’s handsome face, red and swollen, forced its way into her head.
“Mac never threw a punch. He only grabbed that guy, then pushed him away. Sheriff Regan made Mr. Adams leave the park.”
“But you guys said you saw the whole thing. You even mimicked Mac’s punching movements.”
Aaron had a sheepish expression on his face. “Sorry. I guess we got a little carried away.”
A soft knock sounded on the doorjamb. The sheriff, Matt Regan, poked his head in the doorway. “Everything okay here?”
She’d known Matt since grade school, so she felt perfectly comfortable slumping down into a pale green plastic chair and admitting defeat in front of him. “John defended me, and how did I respond? I fired him.”
“Didn’t he tell you what happened?”
“I jumped to conclusions and didn’t give him a chance.” Rubbing her head seemed like a good idea except her hands reeked of that hospital disinfectant smell, and her nose took offense. “I’ve got to go see him. I need to apologize.”
Matt placed her hand on her shoulder and gave a soft squeeze. “How about I take the kids home with me? They can have dinner with us. You can stop and get them on your way home.”
“What do I do once I’m there?”
“I guess it depends on what you want.”
What did she want? She wanted the last hour to disappear. Go back in time to right before her phone rang at work. Go back in time to when her life was happy, easy.
When the hell had that been?
She thanked Matt and forced a smile for the boys. “I’ll be home soon. Be good.” She blew them a kiss as he guided them out the door.
Go to John’s. Good God, what would that be like? What would she say? What would he say?
…
Rachel sat in her car right outside the bungalow that John had rented for the summer. He sat on the porch, bare feet propped against the railing, chair tilted back to rest on its two hind legs. He took a swig out of a longneck beer bottle, watching her watch him. His expression was blank, hiding his emotions. Was he surprised to see her? Mad? Curious?
She left the safety of her car, plodded up the stone walkway, and stood in front of the porch. She breathed in thick, hot air and ducked her head, trying to find the right words. She stared at the ground beneath her feet. A small crack had spread across the concrete, and her eyes followed its course until she saw a spot of green. How could a tiny weed survive between the cracks? Why did she think of herself as that weed?
She hugged one arm around her waist while the other played with the gold hoop that hung from her ear. She worked the earring back and forth, gained the courage to meet his eyes. She heard the hum of the air-conditioning unit on the side of his house and the rhythmic croaking of tree frogs. Her pulse beat hard and rhythmic in her throat.
She nodded her head in the direction of his beer. “Do you have another one of those?” she asked as casually as she could manage.
His sky-blue eyes looked at her intently, then he pushed his feet off the railing. The thud of the chair’s front legs as they hit the porch floor ricocheted like a gunshot in the stagnant air of the early evening. In silence, he traveled to the screen door. With a yank of the handle, he disappeared into the house. Would he bring her a beer? Or had he dismissed her?
She remained motionless until he reappeared. The bottle seemed miniature in his huge hand. He removed the cap and offered the drink, and she mentally gave him points for being a gentleman.
“Thanks,” she murmured. She sat on the top stoop. He walked to the opposite side of the small porch and chose the swing that hung from the rafters. She held her breath as she waited to see if the wooden structure would hold such a massive man. The chains squeaked as he lowered himself, but it accepted his full weight.
After a long swallow of the beer, she placed the side of the brown bottle along her face and tried to remember the last time she had drunk any alcohol. Too long to remember. There seemed to be a lot of things she hadn’t done in a long time. She closed her eyes and let the condensation cool her skin before the wetness evaporated.
She opened her eyes and caught his scrutiny as if he was cataloging each movement. Without breaking eye contact with him, she sipped her beer, then leaned back against the railing.
“I came here to apologize but somehow…the right words…” She swallowed hard. Why was it so difficult to face him?
Once again, she focused on John. Her reward was the serenity of his beautiful
eyes. His carefully blank expression had morphed into a slight smile, and it encouraged her to continue her apology.
“I’m so sorry for the way I treated you at the hospital. I was wrong. I should’ve given you a chance to explain. After you left, I found out what happened.” She brushed her hair off her forehead. “I was frustrated from work. I’ve been worried about the boys. I…well, I’m sorry. Having a bad day is no excuse for what I did.” She hunched her shoulders. “I love them so much, but sometimes being a single mom is just hard. Can you forgive me?”
“I’ll think about it.” The promise of a dimple started on his cheek. Was he teasing her? “Come here.” He motioned to the seat next to him on the swing. “Tell me about your day.”
While he placed his beer bottle on a table next to him, she slid onto the narrow seat. He pushed a foot against the worn floorboards and set the swing in motion. As their bodies swayed back and forth, she settled into the green-and-white striped cushion and let him control their movement, thankful for the hint of breeze that played across her skin. His presence soothed her, and she tucked a leg underneath her while the other dangled, the toe of her shoe scuffing across the wood floor.
The confinement of the swing caused their legs to touch—her knee against his thigh—and something she hadn’t felt in a long while skipped through her body.
He maneuvered his arm behind her, then let it rest along the back of the seat. The movement created an electrified cocoon that wrapped around her, and she longed for the protectiveness of his arms. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t allow these kinds of feelings, but maybe, after the day she’d had, she’d indulge for just a moment.
Chapter Six
Fixated on Rachel’s fingers, John watched as one delicate hand held the neck of the bottle while the other played with the foil label. The tempo of her rhythm increased with each swipe of her thumb until he was sure she would wear the logo right off the bottle. She told him about her long day at work, and her jealousy the day before because her boys had done so well without her. And then she just stopped, allowing the two of them to sit in a companionable silence, rocking back and forth on the swing.
Just for Appearances Page 5