Forgetting Yesterday (18 page)

Yet, he could make time for a fishing weekend.

Go figure.

Was he a complete absentee father? It sure seemed that way.
My stomach rolled over once again. The more I thought about it, the more stressed out and sick to my stomach I became.

I sighed. “I really thought that we had a connection. I told him about Jason. I told him
everything
! I thought we were building an open, honest relationship. How could’ve I been so stupid?” I shook my head and let out a bitter laugh. Stupid when it came to men seemed to be my forte. “Never mind. I can’t believe I even asked that. I am the
worst
judge of male character!”

“No, you’re not,” Claire said firmly. “I told you that he was a nice guy. I thought he was a great guy. If he fooled you, he fooled me too.”

Her words only made me feel minimally better. Being wrong about Jason had been bad enough. But being wrong about Alex
hurt
. It hurt way more than it should have.

“Ugh!”
she growled. “I can’t believe the nerve of Morgan! I’ll bet she had that little spiel planned all along! It just worked out perfectly for her that she happened to be with Kara at the time.”

I was no longer listening to her as she continued to fume on my behalf. My mind was tangled up in a conversation with Alex. He’d said that it was crazy how you could know someone for such a long time, only to find out that you really didn’t know them at all.

How ironic.

And yet, maybe telling.

Because when it came down to it, I’d only known him for a few months.

I realized that I’d probably been fooling myself to think that I knew anything about him.
Because clearly, after today, I realized that I didn’t know Alex Carmichael at all.

“Would you like potato salad?” Dottie asked.

I shook my head. “No, thank you.”

“I’m good,” Claire said.

“More for me,” Dottie said with a wink. She scooped herself another small serving.

I forced a smile onto my face. We were in the backroom of
The Petal Pusher, working on a rare Sunday. Well, kind of working. Mostly, we were just brainstorming ideas that had been gathered from the craft fair yesterday. The store itself was closed. We’d cleared a space on the work table to make room for the three of us.

The lunch had been
my idea, set up before the unfortunate run in with Morgan and Kara. I needed to talk to Claire. It was a conversation I thought Dottie, who was a longstanding employee, should be a part of.

They had
both been pleased, thinking I’d suggested it just for the heck of it. When, in truth, I had something disheartening to tell them.

Dottie had offered to run to the deli to pick lunch up for us. It was a sweet gesture but today, between the news about Kara, and the news I had to share, I had no appetite. I’d pulled my croissant to pieces, trying to eat but failing.

I could feel Claire sneaking glances my way. I imagined she assumed my mood was entirely due to being unable to reach Alex. I wished that were all. The last few days, my life seemed to be swirling in a downward spiral.

“Why so glum?” Dottie demanded.

I slide my plate away and licked my lips nervously. “I have something to tell the two of you.”

Claire’s spine stiffened and she instantly looked concerned. “What is it?”

I thought it was best to just say it.

“I won’t be working here much longer,” I said quietly. I tried for my smile again but was pretty sure I didn’t succeed.

My friend let out a little huff. “Is this because of Alex? Are you planning on leaving town?”

“No,” I said. “Well, yes. Maybe.” She looked at me, her head cocked to the side in confusion. I couldn’t blame her.
“I mean, no, this has nothing to do with Alex. Yes, I might be leaving town. Or maybe not.”

“What’s this about?” Claire asked before I had a chance to finish.

I tapped my fingers on the table, not wanting to say it but not really having a choice. “I finally got around to taking a look at the books for the past year. I think that even with added revenue from a website, which in itself is iffy, the shop doesn’t make enough in the wintertime to pay three full-time employees.”

Claire’s expression crumpled.

“It’s fine,” I assured her. “We knew this was probably a temporary thing. It’s not a big deal. When I first came to town, it was my intention to look for a job. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you giving me a chance here. I feel like I’ve gained some experience. You’ve really helped me in a pinch. You just really helped me to get back on my feet. But now, in a month or so, when business typically starts slowing down again, I’ll just look for something else,” I said, hoping my tone sounded more optimistic than I felt.

“Are you going to look for something in Grafton?” Claire demanded. “I just got you back in my life. I really hate the thought of
you disappearing from it again.”

“I will definitely look for something in the area,” I assured her. “And if I can’t find anything, I promise we’ll never lose touch again. I learned my lesson. And I’m not in that place in my life anymore.”

She didn’t say anything, simply pushed her plate away and let out a little frustrated sigh.

“Oh, you two,” Dottie scolded. She wore a frown. “Things are never as bad as they seem.
Life has a funny little way of making sure that everything works out in the end. Claire, you’ll have no trouble keeping Zoey on. And Zoey, you don’t need to worry about a thing.”

I sat forward in my chair, ready to protest. Perhaps she needed the financial aspect clarified.
When the slower season hit, even with the projected online sales, my income would be doable. But only the income I was currently making. I wasn’t opposed to my paltry paycheck for the time being, because I truly did want to help Claire out, but now her books were current. The website was ready to launch and the busy summer season was coming to an end.

I felt as if I’d done my part.

And now, sadly, it was time to move on.

I didn’t have a chance to explain any of this because Dottie
cut me off with a wave of her hand.

“You’ll be able to stay
,” she said firmly, “because I’m resigning.”

“You’re what?” Claire and I cried in unison.

“You both heard me just fine,” she retorted. “I’m resigning.”

I shook my head. “No. I can’t let you do that.”

Claire’s gaze flickered to me, then back to Dottie. She looked conflicted when her guilty gaze landed on me again. “Zoey’s right, Dottie. We would never ask you to do that. You’ve been with me from the start. We would never ask you to go. I don’t want to hear you talk that way.”

She chuckled.
“Oh, sweetheart, I only work here because it’s something to keep me busy. Most of my friends retired years ago. Maybe I should have too. As much as I love this job, it’s more of a hobby to me than anything.”

“It’s
more
than a hobby,” Claire argued. “You’ve been invaluable to me.”

Dottie nodded her agreement. “In the beginning, I suppose I was. I wanted to make sure you got off to a good start. I had a rapport with the returning customers. I wanted to make sure they treated you right,” she said with a wink. “But things are coming along nicely. You don’t need me anymore. And as for me, I can keep myself busy just about anywhere. Our church has started up a quilting group. I think I’d like to join. And you,” she said as she pointed a finger my way, “you’re good for this one here. I’ve never seen her office so
neat and tidy. And I know that’s just the start of it. You two work well together. You both bring different talents to the business.” She crossed her hands in front of her chest. “So I think it’s time I resign. Freeing up my income will ensure that you have enough to see that Zoey gets a decent paycheck,” she said to Claire.

“Do you even want me full
time?” I asked hesitantly. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m bulldozing my way in. I mean the agreement was that I’d get your books under control and get the website set up.”

“And you have,” she said with a nod. “I’d much rather have someone doing my books that I trust than have a stranger come in here. If you’re interested, I’d be thrilled to have you stay.”

“Then I guess I’m staying,” I said simply.

*******

Not even the news of Dottie’s resignation could lift my foul mood completely. I was continuously telling myself I needed to snap out of my funk. Alex would get home.

And then he would explain.

He would give me a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why he never told me he was a father. I was sure he’d have a completely reasonable explanation for why it didn’t seem like he spent any time with his child. Between his work schedule, the time he spent with me, and the fishing trips once a month…I just didn’t see how he could possibly be devoting any time to his kid.

The thought twisted my stomach up into a tight knot.

He didn’t strike me as a deadbeat dad.

But then again, my past actions only proved that I tended to be a truly horrible judge of character.

For just a moment when Dottie had first told us she was resigning, I’d felt a moment of panic. I hadn’t realized until right then that maybe I wanted an excuse to leave town. An excuse to run away. Again.

I cringed as I pulled a glass out of the kitchen cupboard. Running away from my problems had clearly become a despicable habit of mine.

I pulled the pitcher of water from the fridge, took a long sip, and tried to clear my head of all the thoughts that had me so tangled up.

Maybe Dottie was right. Maybe things weren’t as bad as they seemed. Maybe life did have a way of working out in the end.

I had left her and Claire at the shop to wrap up a few things. I was glad to have a few minutes to myself.

I finis
hed off my water, set my glass on the counter, and jumped when the chiming of the doorbell pealed through the house. My hand shook as I pulled it back to my side. My heart slammed painfully.

As I hurried toward the entry way, I realized it could be Sean.

But I really hoped it was Alex.

It would be just like him to surprise me by stopping by instead of calling.

My emotions were a swirling mess. I was excited to see him, but scared to death to be confronting him about something so huge.

What he had to say could change absolutely everything.

I steeled myself, hand on the doorknob, as I drew in a breath.

We’d talk it out.

Everything would be fine.

Even as I gave myself the mental pep talk, I knew I wasn’t sure I believed it. Deceiving someone was not fine. I wasn’t sure there was any possible way he could explain this to me in a way that was forgivable.

The guy staring back at me sent my heart cascading to the floor. I let out a little shriek—more out of surprise than fear—and tried to slam the door shut.

Jason stuck his foot in the door before I was able to get it shut all the way.

“Zoey,” he said quietly. “Don’t do this, please. I just want to talk.” He pushed the door open with his shoulder. I didn’t offer much resistance. My knees had gone weak and my entire body prickled with anxiety.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded. I crossed my arm over my chest and raised my chin defiantly.

“I told you, I just want to talk to you,” he said as he eased his way into the entryway.

He looked the same as he always had. Blond hair perfectly combed, not a strand disobeying. Face cleanly shaven. Khaki pants neatly creased and his short sleeved button down without a single wrinkle.

He narrowed his blue eyes at me as I assessed him.

For some reason, I thought if I ever saw him again, he’d look different to me
—as if I was seeing him more clearly. He didn’t look different. He looked like the same old Jason. The one I’d loved and hated. Respected and feared. Needed…and ran away from.

“You
just want to talk?” I repeated. I shook my head, unable to conceal my doubt.

After all of these months, the timing couldn’t be worse. I mean, the timing would never
be good but I really didn’t need this now.

“
I hate that you look at me that way,” he said. His expression was so contrite, I almost believed him. Almost. “I hate that you’re afraid of me.”

I stood up straighter. I didn’t want him to think I was afraid of him. Somehow, that felt like I was giving him power over me that I didn’t want him to have.

“Look,” he said with a sigh as he noticed my renitence, “I truly only came here to talk. Actually, I want to apologize for the way I treated you. No one deserves that.”

I felt my eyebrows shoot up.

Those were words I never thought I’d hear him say.

Apparently he took my shocked silence as an invitation to go on.

“After you left, I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened. About what I did. I’ve always had a temper but I thought I could control it. My dad was the same way but he
never
controlled it. He was a mean, ornery old bastard. I spent my life being terrified of him. When he died, part of me was actually relieved that I wouldn’t have to face him anymore,” he said in a strained tone. He shook his head, looking remorseful. “My whole life, I swore I wouldn’t be like him.”

I swallowed a painful lump that had lodged in my throat. It may ha
ve been fear. It may have been sympathy. Probably, it was a combination of the two.

Jason rarely talked about his dad. He had opened up to me one night, in the midst of Mom’s illness, and told me that his dad had died in a drunk driving accident.

He’d been driving; he’d spun out of control, rolled his car and died on impact. Fortunately, no one else had been hurt. After that night, Jason had never mentioned him again. I’d thought it was because it was too painful to talk about.

Apparently, it was.

But not in the way that I had imagined.

“I didn’t know that about your dad,” I said, feeling myself softening toward him despite myself.

“I know. I never talked to anyone about him. Not really. I always figured he was dead and gone. Why bring it up? But keeping it bottled up inside wasn’t the right answer either.”

“I’m glad you realize that,” I said.

“I know what I did was wrong. I know I needed help. So I got help. I’ve been going to anger management classes. I miss you Zoey.” His tone was pleading. His words chipped away at my heart. “Come back with me. Come back with me so we can fix this.”

“How did you
find me?” I demanded, ignoring his plea. I couldn’t let myself get tangled up with him again. Not emotionally or otherwise.