by Kinney Scott
“Mom! Seriously - does Dad know?” Amanda asked, surprised. Her father never allowed anyone behind the wheel of his classic ‘84 truck.
“Your Father won’t mind,” Sandy lied and laughed.
“Won’t mind what?” Bill came in, wearing a crisp black western shirt, dark wranglers, and black square-toed boots. Sandy looked at her husband from head to toe; the man continued to stun her.
Bill slid his hand to his wife’s hip, looked into her eyes and waited for her answer, “I uh, told Neil he could drive us in tonight. You’ll still be in the truck.”
“But not behind the wheel,” he growled with a smile. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the keys. “Looks like you’re the designated driver son.”
“Damn, hadn’t thought of that,” Neil laughed, snagging the single key dangling from a loop with a leather Chevy logo attached.
A sharp knock hit the front door. Amanda shot over to let Dillon and Justin inside.
“Hi, guys,” Amanda caught each in a friendly hug, not having seen them since leaving abruptly not long after the fiasco at Halloween.
“Wow, we were born in the wrong era,” Dillon said looking over the curvy silhouettes of both stunning women.
“You both look terrific,” he added looking directly at Linnea with undisguised heat.
“Thank you,” she smiled as her cheeks flushed. While they saw each other nearly every day, Dillon looked different, flirtatious and a little tempting.
Justin spotted Neil in the hall, “Hey, I haven’t seen you in a long time, Neil. How’s it going?” They’d graduated in the same class but had never been friends.
Neil gave Justin a quick nod, “doing good.”
“Great,” Justin smiled, and returned the nod, remembering Neil’s quiet nature.
“We’re ready when you are,” Amanda said heading toward the door.
Justin turned, held the door open and followed his friends out into the biting cold.
Linnea shivered when the stark contrast hit her bare legs, and felt Dillon move to shelter her from the brisk breeze.
Justin held open the passenger side of the two-door Camaro as Amanda shimmied in. Her snug skirt rode up revealing the top of the sexiest stockings he’d ever seen. He didn’t care if she’d chosen the lace-edged garter to match the theme of the party, and not for his benefit, that glimpse would star in his fantasies for weeks.
Dillon inched closer to Linnea, waiting for Amanda to settle before guiding his date to the shotgun seat. He stripped from his coat and swung it over her shoulders, giving her an extra layer of protection from the cold.
“Thanks, Dillon,” she smiled, “should I go back inside and grab a warmer coat?”
“That’s okay, we’ll be moving along soon,” he pulled the jacket around her but didn’t release his grip. As he pulled her to him, Linnea felt a pang of guilt. He sensed her hesitation and backed away, giving her a bit more space.
After Justin climbed in Dillon held the door open for Linnea. She settled, still wrapped in his jacket, as he circled to the driver’s side. His vintage muscle car roared to life. He pulled away as Amanda’s family climbed into the black Chevy truck. Both vehicles would join the herd of shined and polished cars gathering at the Fairgrounds north of town to make their way in mass to Mosquito Creek Brewing.
EIGHTEEN
Linnea felt strange sitting with the guests rather than working behind the bar. At least she’d be close if Annie needed help running her first event. Towering over the party the Christmas tree cast a romantic glow. As the taproom filled with guests, the holiday atmosphere increased.
Dillon found their table. Fortunately, Linnea took a seat facing away from the man staring at her from across the room. Rick’s eyes tracked her movements at least when he wasn’t glaring at Dillon. Servers left bottles of red and white wine at the tables and offered a selection of beer from the brewery.
As soon as the mingling crowds began to settle the fire chief walked up to the mic. He led off with the impressive numbers for the food drive, thanked everyone for their generous support, and moved on to honor the person the town voted to recognize this year for their contribution to the community.
New to Ashwood, Linnea enjoyed the traditions of her adopted home. She listened to the chief recite personally written accounts about this honored individual. At first, she couldn’t identify the recipient, but as the list of accolades grew - Linnea knew Rick was about to take the stage.
She turned in her seat searching the room. Near the front, she spotted Laura first, with Ricky squirming in her arms. Laura beamed with pride as her son stood, walked to the stage, and shook the chief's hand. Rick felt Linnea’s eyes like a touch, the only gaze that mattered.
After only a few days alone he couldn’t ignore the depth of his mistake, he realized it was wrong to watch her, even worship her from afar. Soon, she would belong to another man. A man who wouldn’t be stupid enough to send her away.
Linnea sensed Rick’s discomfort behind his strained smile and in the tight set of his jaw. He served this community because it was his nature to meet a need. And she loved that about him. Damn, she might never stop loving the man staring back at her from the stage.
Dillon edged closer to Linnea, pulling her toward his lanky frame. A challenge passed between Dillon and Rick. The visual contest, noticed by Linnea, had her squirming under Dillon’s arm. Her movement only encouraged the man to pull her closer still. Once Rick took his seat, Linnea sighed, relieved when Rick left her line of sight.
“These decorations are amazing,” Amanda said attempting to brighten the conversation.
“I can’t take all the credit,” Linnea began, “the centerpieces were brought in, and Annie did all the white lights on the bare branches.”
“Where did you get that mammoth tree?” Justin asked.
“Wade’s responsible for that,” Dillon laughed. “We were all surprised.
“What have you been doing in Hood River,” Justin heard rumors but wanted the details directly from Amanda.
She grew excited talking about the incredible dream job she’d stumbled into. A photographer in Hood River needed an extra set of hands for a snowboarding shoot on Mount Hood. That chance acquaintance led to a second project on the Columbia featuring kiteboarders. Amanda seemed to have a knack for catching not only the action but also the personality of the athlete. Justin couldn’t believe his date for the night was involved in something so daring. Amanda, the youngest Michaels, suddenly seemed seriously badass.
The buffet line shortened enough for the two couples to make a move. Linnea didn’t know if she’d be able to eat but put a few things on her plate. Dillon noticed her scooting her food around, unable to eat more than a few bites.
While Justin worked on his heaping plate of food, Amanda stood. “I’m going to drag Neil out to dance and see if we can get this party humming,” she said with a hopeful grin as a few people took to the center of the room.
Dillon was about to ask Linnea to dance when Laura passed by with Ricky in her arms. The baby wouldn’t last much longer, and a few of Laura’s friends longed to meet him.
“Hello, Linnea,” Laura said warmly, missing this girl and secretly hoping her son could find a way to repair the damage. Linnea stood as the baby held out a hand to grasp her pinkie.
“He looks wonderful,” Linnea said, longing to hold the little guy in her arms. She missed his baby smell, his chubby cuddles, and his playful laugh.
“I’m so thankful for him…Rick’s doing a wonderful job.”
“I knew he would,” she nodded.
Beginning to fuss, the baby had that particular odor, “I think he needs a diaper change.”
“Oh, I’m sorry our restrooms aren’t set up for that. Follow me to my office. I’ve got a couch in there.” Linnea turned to Dillon and told him she’d only be a few minutes.
“Thank you so much,” Laura said moving away from the tables and dance floor. Rick wondered if something was wrong as his mothe
r and Linnea took Ricky out of the taproom.
His mother caught his look and patted Ricky’s bottom. He nodded wanting to follow but kept his seat, deliberating how long he needed to wait out the agony at the event. He glanced at his phone to check the time. At least he could use the baby as an excuse to leave early.
It was then he spotted a text from Maggie. Strange. The moment he read her words, he began moving quickly. He passed through the dance floor, startling a few couples swaying gracefully to the music. Brushing by Amanda and Neil, he rushed to the office door.
“Something’s wrong,” Amanda said as Rick skirted past tables and chairs. Neil nodded and they followed him out, remembering the year he dated Grace and how close he’d become to the Palmer family.
Rick burst through the office door startling his mother, Linnea, and the baby. “Mom we need to leave,” he said digging into the baby’s bag to find his warm winter coat. Neil and Amanda appeared in the door behind Rick.
“Neil, hello,” Laura said, surprised to see the grown version of the boy her daughter used to date.
“Mom, please…” Rick insisted trying to get her moving.
Linnea finally forced words out, “What’s wrong Rick?” she asked.
“I need to get to Portland,” he said, worry splashed across his face.
His mother’s expression shifted, “It’s Grace isn’t it.”
He nodded, “I got a text from Maggie. She’s volunteering tonight at the shelter. Grace showed up, and she’s asking about Ricky. I need to go.”
Laura gave Rick the baby, “I’m going with you. I haven’t seen my daughter in over a year.”
“Mom, we can’t take Ricky with us! We don’t know how Grace will react,” he insisted.
“I’ll watch him,” Linnea offered quietly, needing to help in any way Rick would accept.
Rick shook his head, “I can’t ask you to do that.”
“I’m doing this for Ricky, not for you,” she insisted with an edge to her tone.
Dillon appeared in the doorway, towering over Amanda. His tall lean body reaching nearly to the top of the doorframe, “What do you need Linnea?” Dillon asked.
Linnea turned, “Dillon, would you drive the baby and I over to Rick’s house? I apologize that our night needs to end so abruptly.”
“Sure, anything you need, Linnea,” he nodded, placing himself by her side.
Rick nearly growled aloud, “Fine, I’ll put Ricky’s seat in your car. It will save time if Mom and I don’t have to run home before driving to Portland. Thank you, Linnea,” he added trying to ignore the man by her side.
“Your welcome,” she nodded as she took Ricky from his arms. The baby clenched her soft sweater with his tiny fist, and she planted a kiss in his silky hair.
As they moved toward the door, Neil finally spoke. He glanced at Amanda using her presence to allow him to speak with a steady cadence.
The words almost trapped in his throat as he spoke carefully, “Mrs. Palmer, would it be too much to ask? I’d like to go and see Grace.”
Laura saw the raw emotion in his eyes, he still cared about her daughter or the person her daughter used to be, “Of course, Neil,” she said.
Rick protested with a shake of his head, “Mom.”
“Rick, it’s okay,” his mother insisted.
He gave in, his body shrinking under the strain. Countless questions flooded his mind. What could he do if Grace tried to take his boy away? After only a few weeks, Ricky was part of him.
“Let’s go,” he said leading the way out the door.
Amanda returned to her date with Justin thankful Kent hadn’t made an appearance at the party. Fighting the compulsion, she just couldn’t text Kent. Sure, he would want to help Rick, but she couldn’t face him, not even with a text.
Watching Dillon drive away with Linnea and Ricky in his car conjured up a new ache. Rick knew Linnea’s life would continue without him. But, the sight of her in another man’s car created a visual reminder of that desolate future.
NINETEEN
Searching for the light switch just inside Rick’s door, Linnea held Ricky on her hip while Dillon stood holding the backpack-style diaper bag. Dillon had hoped she would get over her recent break-up soon, but seeing her in the man’s home confirmed his fears. Linnea loved Rick and may for a long time to come. But, he’d been in love in the past and knew she’d eventually move on.
“What can I do?” he asked as she stood, struggling to get her bearings.
“Could you put another log in the woodstove?” she asked. “I’ll get Ricky ready for bed.”
He nodded and began with the small task. As she warmed a bottle, he found the baby’s room and located footed pajamas in the dresser. “Does he take a bath every night?” he asked.
“Usually, yes. Have you spent much time with babies?” she wondered aloud when he asked that logical question plenty of men wouldn’t begin to know.
“Yeah, my sister has three. They live in Yakima. I watch her kids from time to time.”
“How did we never meet in Yakima?” she asked, wondering how long Dillon had known her brother Wade.
“I was a year ahead of Wade in school, we did meet, but you were a kid,” he shrugged, revealing his age at thirty-one.
“Ah, so when you graduated I was in fifth grade,” she laughed.
“Wow, when you say that I feel ancient, and - kind of creepy,” he laughed, his eyes dancing.
Linnea relaxed, enjoying Dillon’s company as he followed her through the baby’s routine. After Ricky’s bath, she rocked and fed Ricky his bottle, his little hands rested on hers as he drank. By the time he drew in the last slurp, his eyes began to droop with his long lashes resting dark against his pale cheeks. He barely stirred as she patted his back drawing a tiny burp from his tummy.
Linnea lay the baby down in his room and glanced in Rick’s bedroom as she passed by. Their private escape now mocked her with the memories of Rick satisfying her in ways she never dreamed possible. She moved quickly past, locking away the thoughts in the vaults of her recollections.
Dillon sat waiting in the living room. He led her to his side on the couch. When she hesitated he said, “Linnea, I see you need more time to get over Rick. But, I’m willing to wait. When you’re ready will you give us a chance?”
She nodded, “For now can we be friends?”
“Absolutely, so long as you know I hope for so much more.”
With that assurance, she took the hand he offered and sat close to him. He put an arm around her and pulled her to his side. She pretended not to notice when Dillon stroked the tendrils of her hair resting on the back of the couch.
***
Laura climbed into the back seat of Rick’s SUV before Neil could say anything to stop her. He would have preferred taking the literal backseat in the conversation. Fortunately, Rick didn’t seem to be in a talkative mood as the ride progressed in near silence.
“When you saw her last year, Rick, how did Grace seem?” his mother asked as they neared the outskirts of Portland.
“Healthy, but nervous I guess. She didn’t say much to Kent and me at the time.”
Hearing Kent’s name brought a slight grimace to Neil’s face. He’d hated the arrogant guy from second grade through graduation. Kent’s teasing stopped when they were about twelve, around the time Kent became distracted by every girl in school.
Watching him work his way through the entire female population gave Neil a new reason to despise him. Kent’s recent dismal treatment of Amanda confirmed a deep-seated disgust. How Rick and Kent remained friends all these years confused the hell out of Neil.
Rick found a spot in a paid lot a block from the church. He texted Maggie and she confirmed that Grace was still in the rec-room of the shelter. He called Candace, the shelter director, and let her know he wanted to see his sister tonight.
Within minutes he spotted Candace hurrying toward him, “Rick why are you here?” she asked alarmed.
“I heard Grac
e was here, asking about Ricky. Can we go inside? This is my Mom, Laura, and one of Grace’s friends from high school, Neil.”
“I’m afraid I can’t let you come inside. It’s after public admission hours and I’d have to ask Grace if she wanted to see you first. She has the right to be here, but, unfortunately, you do not.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. She’s our family!” Rick said with barely controlled anger.
Laura grasped her son’s arm, “Please Rick. We understand. Could we wait out here? Please, ask Grace if she’d like to see us. If she doesn’t come out, we will leave.” Laura begged, hoping to find a compromise.
Candace nodded, “Okay, I can do that. I’m sorry. I know you mean well, but if I let you in we will lose the trust of so many who rely on us to protect them.”
“We understand,” Neil added and Candace disappeared inside the gothic church.
Rick paced the sidewalk. As they waited, a misty rain began to fall. The temperature remained above freezing, but not by much. Unprepared for standing in the cold, Laura began to shiver. Rick took off his coat, wrapped it around his mother and stood in the rain in his button-up dress shirt, slacks, and dress shoes. The clothes purchased specifically for the banquet felt thin and foreign against the elements.
“I don’t think she’s coming outside,” Laura said her teeth chattering.
Neil paced closer to the shelter entrance as the door opened. A fragile girl stepped outside and paused while her eyes adjusted to the dark. Illuminated by the light above the door, Grace looked ethereal.
Closing the door behind her, Grace shook her head trying to understand what she saw. Rick, she expected, maybe with Kent because he’d come to the shelter with her brother in the past. But not Neil. Her high school sweetheart stepped out of her past and into the stark reality of who she’d become.
Huddled against the cold and rain a woman wrapped in a coat several sizes too large ran toward her. Grace cowered back against the stone building until she recognized her mother.
“It’s okay Grace, it’s just me, Mom.”