Small-Town Dad

by Jean C. Gordon

  “Don’t talk about her like that.”

  “Back off. I was complimenting you.”

  “You weren’t complimenting the lady.”

  The corner of Tyler’s mouth twisted and his eyes narrowed as if he didn’t understand.

  “Hey, Dad! Glad I caught you.” Autumn waved as she stepped out of a classroom across the hall.

  Tyler’s eyes widened. “That’s your daughter?”

  “Yeah.” He’d better not be getting any ideas about Autumn.

  “Uh, I didn’t know you were that old. I thought you were my brother’s age, like twenty-six or seven. Sorry if I offended.”

  Neal would have laughed if he weren’t still steamed about the assumptions Tyler had made about Anne and him. She probably wouldn’t like him stepping in on her behalf, but gossip about her and a student wouldn’t be good. Better he quash the buzz before it got back to Anne.

  “See you around.”

  “Right, and watch what you’re saying about people.” Neal used his best imitation of his National Guard commander.

  Tyler was gone before Autumn had crossed the hall to Neal.

  “What was that?” she asked.

  “You don’t want to know. What’s up?”

  “Professor Murray stopped me on my way out of my Irish literature class. She’s been trying to get ahold of you. She said she’s sent you several emails.”

  “I don’t check my school account that often. It’s a pain to have to log into the computer, rather than being able to check the messages on my phone.”

  “You’re not having trouble with her class, are you?”

  He was. But he wasn’t about to tell Autumn that. “English never was my strongest subject.” But he’d never done as poorly as he seemed to be doing in his composition class. He’d gotten a C on his how-to paper on installing a light fixture. The instructor had said to write about something they knew. Then, when she’d graded his paper, she’d said it was too technical, that an average person wouldn’t be able to follow it. Neal had wanted to challenge her, but had let it drop. And Tyler whooping about how he’d gotten an A with his how-to-pick-up-women paper hadn’t helped.

  “She probably wants you to come in so she can go over your paper with you.”

  He hadn’t said anything about his paper.

  “I had her last year.”

  “And if I remember correctly, you got an A.”

  “Yeah, I aced the class, but Jule had trouble with her first couple of papers.”

  “I didn’t say I was having trouble.”

  Autumn quirked an eyebrow. “Well, if you do, maybe I can give you a hand.”

  “Sure thing.” The last thing he needed was his daughter tutoring him. “I’ve got to get going.” He raised his binder. “Anne’s waiting for these solar readings I took yesterday.”

  Amusement lit Autumm’s eyes. “You couldn’t have emailed them?”

  “Don’t get smart with me.” His chuckle took the edge off his words. She was smart, as smart or smarter than he’d been at her age. Maybe smarter book-wise than he was now. He was beginning to think he was too old to be beginning a college career.

  He shook off the cloud of uncertainty that was fogging his brain. “Will we be seeing you and Jack for dinner on Sunday?”

  “Me, yes. I don’t know about Jack.”

  “Is he on call?”

  “Maybe.”

  Something was off with Autumn and Jack, but Neal wasn’t going to push. He wouldn’t want her pressing him about Anne.

  “See you Sunday.”

  Autumn waved her fingers at him and breezed off to join a group of students congregating outside the classroom down the hall where his English class was held.

  His less-than-stellar start lodged front and center in his mind. Once he dropped off the solar assessment readings to Anne, he’d better stop by Professor Murray’s office and see if she was in today.

  He strode the few steps to the side corridor where Anne had her office. The door was half-open. He paused and studied her profile—the line of her patrician nose, wide mouth, determined chin—charmed that he could still see traces of the geeky teenager he’d befriended in high school. She nibbled a pretzel stick and clicked the computer mouse.

  Neal tapped on the door and she spun around in the chair.

  “Hi. I was reading an email from Gary. He’s jazzed about going solar with the birthing center project.”

  He resisted the smile that tugged at his lips. If Anne’s students could hear her with her professional defenses down, they wouldn’t see her as such a stick.

  She waved the pretzel at him. “Come in, sit down.” She placed the pretzel on a napkin on her desk. “I was finishing my lunch.”

  Her desk phone rang as he eased into the chair across the desk from her.

  “Excuse me.” She picked up the receiver. “Dr. Howard. Three-thirty? I should be free. Let me check Outlook.” Anne cradled the phone against her shoulder and checked her calendar on the computer. “Yes, that’s fine.”

  She hung up the phone and returned her attention to Neal. “You completed the readings?” Her voice had lost its earlier excitement and taken on a more impersonal tone.

  “Right here.” He flipped open the cover of his clipboard. “Along with some diagrams I drew.” He pulled several sheets from the clip and passed them across the table.

  She leafed through the report he’d filled out. “Excellent. These are good.” She tapped her finger on one of his designs. “You’ve done some drafting?”

  “I have a CAD program I play around with,” he said, glad he’d decided to toss the designs in.

  She stacked the sheets in a neat pile. “I’ll get these right out to Gary and have him send you his more developed designs directly.”

  Anne’s innocuous words deflated Neal’s pumped-up ego. He’d thought his designs were good, that she thought they were, too. But what did he expect? Gary was an engineer. Of course he’d spec out the designs.

  “What we want you to do next is scope out some solar contractors.”

  Neal leaned forward in his seat. “Okay.”

  She picked up a folder on her desk and handed it to him. “Here’s a list of vendors we’ve used on other projects and our general requirements. Gary...we thought you might have some local contacts.”

  His pulse ticked up. He didn’t know anyone personally, but if there were any companies from here to Albany, he’d find them. “When would you like my recommendations?”

  “We have time. The middle of next month would be fine.”

  “No problem.” He paused, weighing whether to tell her about his interest in being a part of the solar collector installation. Some solar companies had their own electricians and others used subcontractors. The phone interrupted his musing.

  “Excuse me, again.” Anne’s lips curved in a broad smile. “Margaret.” Her voice rose in question and her face blanched.

  She clutched the phone as if it were a lifeline. “No!”

  With her free hand, Anne swiped at the tears that began streaming down her face. Neal rose and walked around the desk touching her shoulder as she slumped in her chair.

  * * *

  His touch reminded her that she wasn’t alone. She steeled her muscles and regained her equilibrium, but let him keep his hand on her shoulder.

  She cleared her throat. “Yes. No. I’ll drive. Tomorrow at one. It’s okay. I have GPS. I’m so sorry.” Anne removed the phone from her ear and stared at the wall.

  “Reenie.” She sobbed and laid her head on arms on the desk.

  Neal rubbed her back. She should sit up and pull herself together. She had that meeting at three-thirty. But she couldn’t stop the tears, and Neal’s touch was so comforting.

  “Anne.”
His voice was soft and close, his breath brushing her ear.

  She lifted her head and turned toward the sound. He squatted next to her chair.

  “Sorry.” She sniffed and, avoiding eye contact, opened a desk drawer and pulled out a tissue.

  “What happened?”

  She shook her head. She’d finally stopped the tears. Telling him would only start them again.

  “What can I do?”

  The edge to his voice drew her back to him. Maybe sharing would help. She breathed in and out twice. “My friend Reenie and her husband were in a car accident.” She spoke quickly to get the words out before the tears began again. “They...they didn’t make it.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  She shuddered, but her eyes stayed dry. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and eased her from the chair. She let him guide her to the small couch on the other side of her office and sit beside her.

  “Margaret, Reenie’s mother, didn’t have my cell phone number or new house number.” Her voice sounded far away, disembodied. “Margaret couldn’t remember the name of the college. My mother is on a cruise with her new husband. She couldn’t reach her, either. The funeral was Monday. I missed it.”

  “That’s rough, really rough.”

  “I have to meet with their attorney tomorrow afternoon, in Sudbury.”

  Neal squeezed her shoulder. “That’s near Boston.”

  She closed her eyes, wanting to blank it all out, and nodded.

  “Do you have someone to go with you?”

  Anne ran through the friends she’d made in Paradox and at the college. Jamie was the only one she felt close enough to to ask. And she wouldn’t. It would put Jamie out too much. She’d have to arrange for someone to watch her kids. Ian. Reenie and Rob’s baby. Had he been in the accident, too? Margaret hadn’t said anything about him. Anne’s chest tightened.

  She cleared her throat. “I’ll be fine. Sudbury is only about four hours away.”

  “I could go with you.”

  Warmth waved over her. But Neal coming with her wasn’t a good idea. She’d broken down in front of him during the thunderstorm, let him see her vulnerable again today. Her late husband, Michael, had drilled her that the only way to succeed in a man’s world was never to let people see her vulnerabilities. And, as far as she could tell, he’d been right. She’d come so far from the nondescript bookworm she’d been in high school and college.

  “I won’t take no for an answer.”

  She bristled. Now Neal sounded like Michael. Would he hold her breakdown today and during the storm against her? And there was no telling how well she’d be able to hold things together once she got to Sudbury. Neal rubbed her upper arm, and she relaxed. He wasn’t Michael. He wasn’t anything like Michael.

  She relented. “All right.”

  Neal removed his arm from her shoulder and took her hands. “Would you like to pray?”

  Anne jerked her head up and met his strong, clear gaze. “Yes. Yes, I would.” She closed her eyes and bowed her head and let Neal’s words of prayer wash over her, lightening her heavy heart.

  After the prayer he released her hands. “I’ll call Pastor Joel and put you and Reenie’s family on the Community Church prayer list.”

  His church prayer list. That was so public. “I’m not a member,” she stammered.

  “I’ll say it’s a friend of mine.”

  Friend. Yes, they were friends, like they’d been in high school. Tears pricked her eyes.

  He lifted her chin with his finger. “I won’t do it. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “No, no you didn’t. It’s...it’s just the sort of thing Reenie would do, pray with me, put me on a prayer list.” Things a true friend would do. “Thanks. For everything.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She glanced down at her watch to break eye contact before her unshed tears became real tears. “My meeting. I’ve got to get going.”

  “I’m sure they’ll understand your missing it.”

  “No, I have responsibilities.”

  * * *

  Responsibilities that were more important than grieving for her friend? Women were so hard to figure, and Anne even more so. She so often thought like a man. It threw him when she didn’t. And today she seemed to be seesawing back and forth. She seemed devastated by her friend’s death. But she was still all business.

  Anne rose and moved to the desk. “I’ll have to make arrangements for someone to cover my classes tomorrow or cancel them.”

  He hadn’t given a thought to his classes. But it was only one day. How much could he miss? He pushed off the couch and crossed the room to her.

  She picked up the solar report and put it back on the desk. “And get these out to Gary. I can do that after the meeting.” She seemed to be talking more to herself than to him.

  “You’ll be okay tonight?”

  Her eyes widened as if she’d just noticed he was still there. “Fine.”

  “I could stop by.”

  She fluttered her hands above the report. “You don’t have to. I have a class at six, and papers I can grade when I get home.”

  Either Anne required her students to write a lot of papers or that was her signal for him to get lost. The sheen in her eyes as she looked up at him cut to the quick. This had nothing to do with him. She was coping the only way she seemed to know how, by making herself busy. He ran his hand over his cropped hair. If only he knew some way to make things easier for her.

  “I’ll pick you up about eight-thirty tomorrow morning.”

  “I’ll be ready. Should I bring anything?” He was stalling. She might think she was fine, but her stop-and-start motions said otherwise.

  “Maybe an overnight bag.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose and curved her hair behind one ear. “Margaret wasn’t entirely clear what the meeting was about. It all must have been so awful for her, alone in that big house. She’s not well. If the meeting lasts long, we...I may not want to drive back tomorrow night. She may need me to stay.” Anne’s voice cracked. “I’m asking too much of you. You don’t need to come.”

  He wasn’t about to let her push him away again. “Like I said, I’ll be ready at eight-thirty.”

  “Thanks.” She breathed out. “For being a friend.”

  “No problem.” He leaned against the desk and righted himself when it moved, or he thought it moved. He glanced at Anne. Her expression was inscrutable. “I’d better get going.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Thanks again.”

  “You’re sure you’ll be okay tonight?”

  She frowned.

  He’d done it again. Pushed when he should have backed off.

  “I’ll be fine. Jamie’s right next door if I need someone.”

  “Good.”

  Neal left Anne’s office before he could come up with another reason to stay. Jamie was a good friend. She’d take care of Anne—if Anne called her. He reheard the crack in Anne’s voice as she told him she was asking too much of him. Didn’t the woman know it was okay to let friends help? He kicked a wad of paper across the hall floor, looked around and crossed over to pick it up. He crumpled it in his fist.

  Anne had said they were friends. He popped into an open classroom and tossed the paper in a wastebasket at the front of the room. Score one for Hazard. He slipped out of the classroom. Friends was good. More than friends might be better. Neal stopped short. For the first time in a long time, he just might be ready to try a relationship with a woman that went beyond simple friendship.

  Chapter Nine

  Anne wiped the smeared mascara from beneath her eyes and applied under-eye concealer. It did little to cover the evidence of her sleepless night. What did it matter anyway? Except she didn’t want Neal to know she’d alternatel
y cried herself to sleep and kept herself awake. She finished her makeup and decided it was as good as it was going to get. The weather was supposed to be sunny. She could hide behind her sunglasses. She grabbed them from her dresser and her overnight bag from the bed and loaded it into her car. Ten minutes later, she was at the turn to the Hazards’ campground.

  Her heartbeat quickened exponentially the closer she got to their log home. Four hours alone in the car with Neal. She could do it, hold herself together without exposing any more personal information. They could talk about the birthing center project, solar energy, Neal’s classes, Neal’s business, his daughter, Autumn. She ticked off safe subjects.

  She stepped from the car and took in the cloudless blue sky over the towering pines that obscured Paradox Lake. The tranquility left her breathless and calmed her still racing heart.

  Lord, with Your help, I can make it through today. Her words were as much an affirmation as a prayer. But she didn’t think He would mind.

  She marched up the shale walk to the front door and knocked.

  Mary answered the door with a broad smile. “Annie. Come in. I couldn’t imagine who would be at our front door so early in the morning.”

  Anne lost some of her bravado. Neal hadn’t told his parents about coming with her? Or had he changed his mind? It wasn’t like she couldn’t make the drive alone. But despite her qualms, she was looking forward to Neal’s company.

  “Everyone uses the side door through the garage. But you wouldn’t know that.” Mary waved her through the living room. “Neal’s in the kitchen. I’m so sorry to hear about your friend.”

  “Thank you.” Anne didn’t need to say more, even though Mary’s open expression invited her to.

  Neal met them at the doorway between the kitchen and living room. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” Filling the doorway, he looked dark and attractive, radiating strength and security. The opposite of how she was feeling and, though she hated to admit it, just what she needed today.

  “Do you have time for a cup of coffee?” Mary asked.

  Anne remembered the homey atmosphere of the barbeque at Emily and Drew’s and imagined breakfast at the Hazards’ would be equally warm. A family warmth that she’d found equally inviting and excluding. “No, thank you. We should be going.”