Flirting With Fire (Hometown Heroes) (16 page)

“Were trying?”
my father asked.

I gave them both
a sheepish grin, and pulled a pair of shiny, new keys out of my jeans pocket.
“Yeah, I kinda stink at telling people ‘no’, sometimes.”

“Yes, you do,”
my mother said with a smirk. “But in this case, congratulations! So, where is
this new apartment?”

I turned in my
seat and looked up at the apartment building beside the stadium. “I’m not
exactly sure which one it is, but it’s on the third floor and is supposed to
have a great view of the field. It’s mine until December. Longer, if I renew.”

“That’s
terrific, sweetheart,” my father said. “I’m sure you’ll save a pretty penny on
gas money.”

Because I
won’t be driving back and forth from Autumn Lake.
Guilt riddled me for the
hundredth time today. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Oh, no you
don’t.”

My gaze met my
mother’s. “No I don’t, what?”

“You’re
second-guessing your decision already.” Her eyes narrowed. “And I’m telling
you, stop it. For once in your life you need to get out there and do something
spontaneous.”

I stared at my
mother in disbelief.

“I’m serious,
darling. You’re so busy walking on eggshells around Sarah that you wouldn’t
know a good idea if it hit you right between the eyes.” She reached out and put
her hand on mine. “But this is exactly what you need. Six months is long enough
to get a taste of downtown living. And if you decide it’s not for you, then you
walk away.”

“But what about
my old apartm—”

“Well, hello
there, stranger.”

Oh, no. Not that
voice. Not now, while I was sitting here with my over-observant, desperate for
grandchildren, mother.

CHAPTER
14

Slowly, I turned
in my seat. There stood Torrunn, wearing a gray FWFD t-shirt and black slacks.
And looking absolutely scrumptious, as usual. My blood ran cold.

“Hey, Torrunn.
W-what are you doing here?”

“Didn’t I tell
you? I volunteer out here a few times a month. Pass out stickers to the kids,
help if an emergency arises. You know, the usual stuff.”

“Honey,” my
mother said, peeling her eyes away from him to shoot an imploring look at me.
“Don’t be rude. Introduce me to your friend.”

Your friend.
I fought the urge to crawl under my seat and hide.

“Uh, sorry.
Torrunn MacKay? John and Deborah Williams.” I waved a hand back and forth
between them. “Mom and Dad? Torrunn.”

My father gave
him a courteous nod. My mother gave him a modest smile and batted her eyes.
Batted
her
eyes.

“How do you do?”

“Why, Liz,” he
said, a debonair smile on his face. “You never told me you were the daughter of
a supermodel.”

My mother
blushed and giggled. I was doomed. Knew she’d never let this encounter drop.
Torrunn shifted his gaze to my father.

“Great game tonight.”

“The first we’ve
caught this season,” my father replied.

“They, uh, live
in Indy,” I added, feeling a sudden need to defend that fact. And to emphasize
the fact that I no longer lived under their roof. Torrunn shot me an amused
smirk. My father, however, wasn’t done talking baseball.

“They still have
that stellar second baseman?”

Torrunn nodded.
“His RBI is actually up from last year.”

“Good. Let’s
hope he doesn’t get called up before the season’s over, then.”

A family of
four, three rows down from us, called out and waved at Torrunn.

“Excuse me, but duty
calls.” He fanned out a few silver stickers and gave me a wink.

“By all means,”
my mother laughed. “So nice to meet you, Mr. MacKay.”

“Mr. and Mrs.
Williams. Liz.” He headed off, and my father went back to watching the game. My
mother and I, however, had our gazes still fixed on Torrunn’s retreating figure.

“Oh, he’s a
keeper. Is he single?”

I watched him
go, still trying to decipher that wink. “Doesn’t matter—he’s a client.”

“That’s too bad.
You two would make beautiful babies.”

* * * *

I didn’t sleep
worth a darn that night. Between fretting over the whole housing decision, and
trying to block the mental images about baby-making with Torrunn, I was an
absolute wreck. When my alarm finally went off at six, I hit snooze with so
much pent up frustration I nearly broke my alarm clock.

As I stood in
the shower, praying the hot water would wash away my anxieties, a small amount
of clarity finally came to mind: my mother was right. I couldn’t ask for a better
opportunity to test out city living than taking over Dawn’s lease for six
months. Or to put some space between Sarah, Mitch and me.

That part,
though, still riddled me with guilt. The three of us had been through
everything together. I’d always imagined them both being in my wedding someday,
and our kids growing up together just like we had. But whether I wanted it to
happen or not, a change had begun to take place in me. And if all I did was
spend the next year—or five, or more—ignoring it, I could only imagine our
relationships would continue to sour. With that thought in mind, I made the
decision to stay the course.

All that was
left to do now was pull the proverbial trigger on telling Sarah and Mitch. As
luck would have it, Sarah called me as I headed into work, and invited me out
to dinner the following night. A neutral location, out in the open where she
wasn’t likely to make a scene? I couldn’t have planned it any better.

So after work on
Friday I swung by home and ran inside to freshen up. Standing in my cramped
single bathroom, all I could think about was how eager I was to move into
something newer. Bigger. Better. Oh, and also how nervous as hell I was to face
my friends.

Before I could wimp
out, I forced myself to head back out the door and over to Four Corners Cafe.
My stomach was in knots by the time I pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot,
a light sheen of sweat on my brow. I could do this, I told my reflection in the
rearview mirror. Nothing they could say was going to change my mind.

My mind agreed.
My stomach? Not so much. I walked into the restaurant, took one look at Sarah,
and made a beeline for the bathroom. Five minutes later, I finally managed to
make it to Sarah’s table, though I was a few shades greener and about three
pounds lighter.

“Oh my gosh, Liz!
Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

“Never been
better,” I said with a wink, and slid slowly into the booth across from her.
“So, what’s new?”

She set her menu
down, and a smile stretched across her face. “I’m pregnant.”

“No kidding,” I
said with a laugh, ignoring the usual pang of jealousy.

“With twins.”

* * * *

I couldn’t do
it. I could not bring myself to break the news to Sarah tonight, not after the
bombshell she dropped on me. Lord, she was going to need so much help.

Twins! The
timing of my move couldn’t have been worse.

Mitch, who was
working, had stopped over whenever he could to check on us. He was thrilled to
learn the news as well—more babies for Uncle Mitch to spoil. But when he
glanced over to see my reaction, I could tell from the dent in his brow he knew
something was wrong.

Damn him for
knowing me so well.

I headed home
around nine, feeling like a rag doll that’d been run through a washing machine.
My body was sore from the tension, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts. How could I
possibly leave town now? To keep from heaving a second time, I went out to my
front patio to get some fresh air.

If I’d been in
the right mindset, I might have actually enjoyed the perfect spring night with
its sky full of diamond-like stars, a cool, clean breeze, and the first sound
of crickets. But all that was lost on me. My mind was too big a mess, guilt
weighing heavy at the thought of how my move was about to turn Sarah’s already
complicated life upside down.

Sarah’s life
,
I could nearly hear my mother say.
Not yours
.

A pair of
headlights broke my concentration as a pickup truck parked in the space next to
my Prix. Its engine died, the lights dimmed, and a familiar profile stepped
out.

“Hey.”    Mitch
made his way toward me, a look of concern visible on his face from the faint
glow of my living room lights.

“Hey,” I
answered back, too emotionally drained to try and sound falsely chipper.    He lowered
himself onto the cushioned chair beside mine on the porch and let out a long
exhale. “Rough day?”

“Nah, just a
long one.”

I don’t know how
he did it, busting his butt day in and day out to keep the cafe in the black.
But his hard work and dedication had certainly paid off. Four Corners hadn’t
seen such steady business since, well, since ever.

“What—d’ya close
up early tonight?”

“Huh?” His brows
furrowed. “Oh. No, I opened today. Glenn is closing.”

“Good. The boss
deserves a night off now and then.”

“That’s right.”
He smiled, then turned his face to the starlit sky. “So, you gonna tell me what’s
been bothering you all night?”

I sighed. “Has
it been that obvious?”

“Only to those
of us not pregnant with twins.”

“Super.”

“You want to
talk about it?”

“I don’t know.” I
glanced over at him, and found that he’d relaxed further in his seat and let
his eyelids droop shut. “You’re probably not gonna like what I have to say.”

“Why don’t you
let me be the judge of that?” he said, his lips quirking up into a crooked
grin. His eyes remained shut, though, and his long, lean body relaxed.

“You remember me
telling you about the gal I’m subbing for at work?”

“Uh, huh.”

“Well, with the
baby coming, she and Xavier went out and bought a house together.”

“They gonna do
the right thing and get married someday, too?”

I grinned.
“Yeah, but not until after the baby comes. She said something about not wanting
to look like Moby Dick coming down the aisle.”

Mitch chuckled,
the sound familiar and comforting. I tugged at a string on my chair cushion,
debating whether or not to come clean with the whole story. It was so rare to
have a quiet conversation anymore between Sarah’s exuberant kids and Mitch’s
bustling café. I hated to ruin it.

“So they bought
a house.”

Guess I didn’t
have a choice but to proceed. “Um, yeah, they did. Only, Dawn had signed a
year’s lease at the new apartments next to Glenview Field.”

“Oh, Liz. You
didn’t.”

“I did.”

I watched the
tension return to his body, though his eyes remained closed. At that moment,
something inside me snapped. I was tired of trying to please everyone else.
Tired of being stuck in ‘damned if I do, damned if I don’t’ land. I sprang out
of my chair and began pacing what space was available on the slab of concrete
that had served as my outdoor refuge for far too long.

“I had to do it,
Mitch. This place, this
town
—it’s sucking the life out of me. And every
time I work up the nerve to leave, something comes along and snags another hook
into me, tying me here, holding me back. Like tonight, when Sarah told me she’s
having twins.”

“Maybe it’s a
sign.”

I snorted.
“Yeah, a sign of weakness on my part.”

“So everyone who
chooses to live in Autumn Lake is weak?”

“No.” I stopped,
turned to face him. His eyes were open now, dark. “Not everyone. I mean look at
you—your business is thriving! And Sarah? She’s got the dream life—loving
husband, perfect house, beautiful kids. But me? I’ve got nothing!”

I turned away
from him then, to hide the tears welling up in my eyes.
Just another sign of
weakness,
I thought, and tried like mad to blink them back before they
spilled down my cheeks.

Mitch’s chair
scratched against the floor, and soon a pair of warm hands rested gently on my
shoulders. “You have more than you realize.”

I shook my head,
not wanting to hear some patronizing lecture about how good I really had it. My
life wasn’t abysmal by any means, I knew that. But I’d definitely had my share
of disappointments. Where was my knight in shining armor? My white picket fence
and gaggle of beautiful children?

“Come here,” Mitch
said, spinning me carefully around and pulling me into his chest.

The tears I’d
fought to restrain tumbled down my cheeks and onto his shirt. A shirt laden
with the smell of French fries and hamburgers, tonight’s Hometown Special. I
clung to him as if my life depended up on it. But it would be short-lived, I
knew. Mitch wouldn’t be leaving Autumn Lake with me—he belonged here in Autumn Lake. His customers counted on him, respected him. He’d opted to make the café his
wife, and never once complained about that decision.

“This is
important to you, isn’t it,” he said, resting his chin on the top of my head.
“Striking out on your own?”

I sniffled and
nodded.

“Then it’s
something you need to do.”

“You really
think so?” I asked, pulling back to read his face.

“Yes, I do. And
if it doesn’t work out, you walk away in a few months, right?”

“Right.”

Mitch shrugged,
then brushed a thumb across my wet cheek. “Well, there you go. Just…promise
you’ll be careful, okay? Stay away from fire-breathing dumpsters.”

I coughed out a
half sob, half laugh. “I promise.”

We stood there
for another moment, toe to toe in comfortable silence. I smoothed his shirt,
wiping at the damp patches left by my tears. “But what am I going to tell
Sarah?”

“Let me handle
that.”

My jaw dropped
open. “Really? It won’t be pretty, you know.”

“I know. But
we’re relatives, so she can’t stay mad at me forever.”

I laughed. “No,
but she can still hate me.”