Rachel Laine (The Women of Merryton Book 3) (22 page)

Arizona
was just the ticket. Drew was happy to be with his grandparents and my dad
filled Drew’s need for male companionship. And I needed my mom.

Sunday,
the day after we arrived, Drew had my dad out on the golf course, which left my
mom and me to do our annual Christmas baking. We made everything from sweet
breads to peanut butter fudge.

“Drew
talks about Andrew a lot,” my mom commented while she was chopping the nuts for
the fudge.

“You
have no idea.”

“Are
you okay with that?”

“It’s
getting easier for me. Andrew is really good with him, and for him.”

Without
looking up from her task at hand. “And how is he for you?”

I
set down the mixer I was about to use. “Mom.”

She
looked up at me from across the kitchen island.

“Would
you be disappointed in me if I told you I had more than friendly feelings for
him?”

She
thought for a moment, which made my heart pump wildly. I wasn’t sure if I had
ever really disappointed my parents, and I was afraid I just had in a huge way.
Her gaze was fixed on me, but I couldn’t read her dark, steady eyes.

“Mom?”
I begged like a child for her to make me feel better.

“I’m
not disappointed, but maybe a little upset.”

“With
me?”

“No,
honey. I just wonder why he didn’t care for Sydney the way he obviously cares
for you. I saw the way he looked at you. There was tenderness. Where was that
with Sydney?”

I
moved toward my mother and took her soft, aged hands in mine. “Mom, he was
tender with Sydney. He protected her from a man that could have hurt her.”

My
mother’s eyes widened, but I didn’t go into any detail, at least not about that
particular point.

“He
tried to give her advice, but we all know how well Sydney listened to anyone’s
opinion but her own. And Mom, she threatened him with false accusations when
she told him she was pregnant.”

My
mom did not look surprised at all.

“He’s
sorry he didn’t believe her, but can you blame him? And who’s to say if he did,
if things would have turned out any different. The only difference would be
that he would have raised Drew, not me. We both know Sydney wasn’t going to
change. Not even for her baby.”

My
mom’s eyes filled with tears. I felt some of my own, too.

“I
love Sydney. I miss her every day, but she was out of control and needed help. We
all tried our best to help her, but she didn’t want it, because it would have
required her to change.”

“We
turned her away,” my mother cried.

“Oh,
mom. You and dad did your best for both of us. We had no idea what condition
she was in.”

“But
she was our daughter.”

I
knew how much that had haunted my parents, but they had really tried with
Sydney. They gave her every advantage they could, and then some. “She probably
would have left anyway.”

Mom
seemed to take some comfort in that. She gripped my hand tightly. “So, tell me
about you and Andrew.”

“I
don’t know. It seems so crazy. We are complete opposites. The man has dated
super models and goes to exclusive parties, and you should see his second home.
But every day he finds time to see how I am. He likes to hear me prattle on
about PTA meetings and premium deductibles. And every time we talk, he tells me
how amazing and beautiful I am. The weird part is that when he says it, I
believe him, and I believe that he really feels that way.”

Mom
smiled, I think in resignation. “You
are
beautiful and amazing. And
maybe Andrew is good for you. You were so young to shoulder such a heavy
responsibility. And I know you don’t see it that way, but you have always been
older than your years. It’s about time you added some excitement to your life.
It’s about time you let someone in.”

“I
worry that Andrew’s life is too exciting. I don’t know if I belong in his world,
and what if he doesn’t fit into mine?”

“Honey,
when two people come together, it is no longer about his world or her world, it
becomes about the life they create together. And if you both want to be
together, you will work hard at creating a world that works for both of you.”

I
nodded in agreement, though the thought scared me.

“Don’t
be afraid, honey.” It was like she could read my mind. “You need to let go. You
have always been cautious, and that’s a good quality, but when it comes to
matters of the heart, you have to open up.”

“So
you’re saying you think it’s okay if Andrew and I see each other?”

She
sighed loudly. “Honestly, he wouldn’t be my first choice, but I see a
difference in you I like. From the sounds of it, he’s good for you and he makes
you happy; that’s all that matters to me.”

“He
does make me happy, but he drives me nuts.”

“That’s
what I say about your dad all the time.”

I
hugged her hard. “Thanks, Mom. And who knows, this may not go anywhere. We
aren’t even dating yet.”

“I
think the boat has already left that dock.” She released me and went back to
chopping the nuts.

My
mom’s wise words bounced around in my head. I supposed she was right. Other
than not physically seeing each other, we talked like we were a couple.

When
my dad and Drew returned from the golf course, we made plates of goodies for my
parents’ neighbors and delivered them. We had been doing that since I could
remember, but here in Tucson, we could wear shorts. In Merryton, when we walked
around our neighborhood this time of year, we had to dress like we were walking
across the tundra. I could get used to the snowbird life my parents were now
leading. But someone had to run the insurance agency.

As
Christmas neared, the energy level inched higher and higher. Drew was beside
himself with anticipation. It didn’t help that on Monday—two days before the
big day—a decent-sized box showed up for Drew. Inside the box were several professionally
wrapped presents in bright reds and greens, all from Andrew. I didn’t want to
think about how much he had to pay to have those gift-wrapped and overnighted.

I
could barely get Drew to fall asleep that night. “I can’t wait to see what
Andrew got me,” he kept saying over and over. Santa had taken a back seat.

“Two
more sleeps and you will find out.”

“I
told grandpa about him, and how cool he was. Grandpa said he could come over
sometime.”

I
raised my eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah.
He said he wanted to get to know him. Grandpa likes baseball.”

I
ruffled his hair. “Yes, he does.”

“Grandpa
said he’ll be back to watch me when I play. I told him Andrew was going to come,
too.”

I
tried to imagine what it was going to be like to have all of us there at the
ballpark. Andrew was going to draw way too much attention, for sure. But would
he and my parents get along? Was Cheyenne going to hate me? Which reminded me,
I needed to check on Taylor. She had sent me pictures of her blonde-haired,
beautiful baby girl that weighed almost nine pounds. I couldn’t believe she was
hiding a nine-pound baby. Her delivery was a little rough, though. They ended
up having to do a C-section, but all ended well. Mother and baby were healthy,
albeit a little sore. Taylor was not happy about having to stay down, but when
we talked briefly, I could hear how in love she was with her new addition.

Anyway,
back to Andrew and Merryton. My curiosity was getting the better of me. “What
did grandpa say when you told him that?”

“He
said, ‘That would be nice.’”

That
was my dad’s way of saying it wasn’t his preference, but at least he was
trying. I’m sure my mom had told him of our discussion. My dad kept looking at
me and shaking his head.

I
kissed my little man goodnight and tucked him in, along with Jake. I walked out
to see I was the last one up. The Christmas tree was the only source of light.
I always loved that sight. There was a magic that was all its own. I looked at
all the presents that surrounded the tree and smiled to myself. Andrew was invading
our lives.

I
sat on the couch in the family room and watched the white lights twinkle on the
tree. I wished Andrew was there with us. In my reverie, my phone buzzed.

“I
was just thinking about you,” I said quietly into my phone.

“What
a coincidence. I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Andrew replied.

“Even
with all of your interviews?”

“You’re
always on my mind.”

“Are
you done for the night?”

“Yes.
I’m heading up to my mom’s right now.”

“Early?”

“I
figured, why wait?”

“You
sound tired.”

“I
am.”

“Hey,
your package for Drew came today. He’s bouncing off of the walls, he’s so
excited about it.”

“I’m
happy it got there. Please take some pictures for me when he opens them. I hate
that I’m missing it.”

“I’ll
be sure to.”

“Just
so you know, I didn’t forget about you, but I wanted to give you your gift in
person.”

“So,
it will be an Easter present?”

He
groaned. “No. I have to see you before then. I’ll figure out a way.”

“Snap
a picture of it and send it to me,” I suggested.

“No
way. This is too good for that. I want to be with you to see your reaction.”

“We
could Skype.”

“No.
I want the living, breathing version of you in my arms.”

I
smiled at the thought. “I could be accommodating.”

“Really?
How accommodating could you be?”

“I
guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

“Don’t
take this the wrong way, but you have the whole innocent-sexy thing down and it
drives me wild.”

“How
would I take that the wrong way?”

“I
don’t want you to think I’m after you for the wrong reasons.”

I
smiled to myself. “So you think I’m sexy?”

“I
may have to jump in a snowbank when I get to my mom’s.”

“You
could go with a cold shower.”

“I’ve
tried that. It doesn’t work very well with you.”

I
laughed as soft as I could. “What are you going to do when we really start
dating?”

“I’m
going to be very careful with you and treat you like you deserve.”

“I’ll
try and tone down my sexiness.” I wasn’t sure how to do that since I never saw
myself that way.

“Please
don’t.”

“Since
you asked so nicely,” I teased.

“Snowbank
it is.”

I
laughed louder this time. I hoped I didn’t disturb anyone.

“I
love your laugh. I’m not waiting until March to see you.”

“If
you figure out a way, let me know.”

“You’ll
be the first to know.”

I
got off the phone feeling like I might need a cool shower myself. Andrew Turner
was working his way into my heart.

Our
Christmas Eve tradition was to open one gift the morning of. I usually let Drew
open something that would keep him entertained. In all the years before, I was
the one who chose which gift he would open, but this year, he begged to open
something from Andrew. There were plenty from him to choose from, so I
relented.

Drew
sat in front of the tree and thoughtfully picked up and felt each package from
Andrew as he tried to choose which present to open. My parents and I watched
him. I had my camera phone ready to go when the big reveal happened. I wanted
Andrew to see his reaction.

In
between watching Drew, I observed my dad. I couldn’t tell if he was grumpy
because Drew was picking a gift from Andrew, or because it was 7:30 in the
morning and he hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. It may have been some of both. I
tried not to let it dampen my spirits. Maybe someday he would come to like
Andrew, when he got the chance to know him. Maybe.

Drew
narrowed it down to two gifts, the largest package and the smallest one. I was
surprised the smallest one was even in the running. At Drew’s age, he still
believed the bigger the better. He shook them both and again, to my
astonishment, he went with the little one.

“Okay.
Are you ready?” I asked him.

He
looked at me like he was born ready and smiled. He tore into the present with a
vengeance.

I
snapped several pictures in a row until I realized what he had uncovered. In my
shock, and maybe some annoyance, I dropped my phone.

“A
pocketknife. YES! I knew it!”

My
parents looked at me with wary gazes and widened eyes.

I
smiled at them to be reassuring, but only because I didn’t want them to think
less of Andrew than they already did. On the inside, I was cursing him. He
should have asked me first. “Dad, maybe you could help Drew?”

My
dad jumped into action and sat next to Drew as he admired his weapon—I mean,
pocketknife. What was he even going to do with it?

My
dad took the knife from him and looked it over. “This is a fine pocketknife. I
think I have some wood in the garage. You can practice whittling on that.”

“What’s
whittling?” Drew asked. That was a good question, one I wanted an answer to as
well.

“You
can use your knife to carve shapes into wood.”

“Awesome!”
Drew exclaimed.

It
was so not awesome, and Andrew was getting a piece of my mind. I texted him the
pictures along with the caption, “You should have asked me.”

Within
thirty seconds my phone rang. I picked up. “Can you hold on a moment?” I asked
Andrew. I looked at my son. “You can go out to the garage with grandpa after
you’ve eaten and gotten dressed.”

He
didn’t even balk at me. He ran straight to the room he was staying in to get
dressed. I was happy to see my dad still held the knife. I didn’t want Drew
alone with the thing until we could talk about it. I excused myself from my
parents and walked out on the patio. I was still in my pajamas, but my parents
lived in a retirement community, so it wasn’t a big deal to see people in their
night clothes outside in the morning. I settled in on one of the patio chairs
and took a deep breath before I gave Andrew a piece of my mind.

“All
right, I’m back. How could you?”

He
laughed as he always did. “I’m sorry, I was going to tell you today. I didn’t
realize you opened gifts on Christmas Eve.”

“I
only let him open one, and it was like it called to him.”

“So
he likes it?”

“What
do you think?”

“You’re
upset.”

“I’m
nervous. I don’t know the first thing about pocketknives and I don’t want him
to hurt himself.”

“I’ll
talk to him and show him how to use it.”

“You’re
not here.”

We
both sat in silence for a moment as I waited for him to respond. “You’re
right,” he finally replied. “Can I call you later?”

“Sure.”

He
was off the phone in an instant. I stared blankly at my phone, not sure what
had just happened. I walked in to see Drew at the kitchen table, dressed and
ready to go.

“Do
you want some pancakes and bacon this morning?” I asked him.

“Can
I have cereal? I want to use my knife with grandpa.”

My
dad walked over from the kitchen, with the paper and his coffee in hand, to
join his grandson at the table. “Son,” he called Drew as he always had, “let’s
not be too hasty to turn down your mom’s pancakes. The wood will still be out
there when we’re done.”

“Fine,”
Drew said, resigned.

“Pancakes
and bacon it is.” I kissed the top of my dad’s head.

He
patted my hand on his shoulder.

“Can
I call Andrew to tell him thank you?” Drew asked.

“Of
course, but let’s wait until later.” I wasn’t sure why Andrew had to get off
the phone in such a hurry.

Drew
admired the outside of his pocketknife. “Okay.”

My
eyes felt glued to him the whole time I was making breakfast. The small gift
had me on edge. I was grateful to my dad, who sat there with my son and told
him stories about how his own grandpa would whittle whistles for him when he
was a boy.

“Really?”
Drew asked. “Could we do that?”

“We
can try,” my dad replied.

At
least that would keep Drew busy for the day. My only hope was that we didn’t
have any accidents or emergency room visits in our near future.

As
the day wore on, Andrew still hadn’t called me back. I thought we were going to
talk for hours. I had been looking forward to it. I called him around two in
the afternoon and all he said was, “I miss you, but I can’t talk right now.”

Okay?

Instead,
I made frequent trips out to the back porch where my dad and son were trying to
make whistles. Earlier in the day they had gone on a walk to find the right
kind of tree, from which they cut off a few limbs they needed to accomplish the
task. I tried my best not to wince—or flat out take the knife out of his hand—as
I watched my son cut through the bark under the careful supervision of my dad.

Drew
was in boy heaven. I didn’t get the attraction of it. When I was his age, I
loved playing with nail polish and an Easy-Bake Oven. Never once did I want a
knife or a bow and arrow or a gun. Which were all things I worried were in my
future, especially with Andrew present. I knew Andrew owned guns and that he was
looking forward to taking Drew to the shooting range. I wasn’t sure if there
was an anxiety medication available that would make that all right for me, but
I knew with Andrew in the picture, I needed to start getting used to the idea.

Speaking
of Andrew, all I got from him all day were sporadic short little texts to tell
me he was busy. Busy doing what? Probably campaign stuff. You would think they
could take a break for Christmas. Didn’t any of them have families?

My
mom and I spent a good portion of the day in the kitchen. We always had prime
rib on Christmas Eve and we made homemade cinnamon rolls for Christmas morning.
It was a longstanding Whitney family tradition.

My
mom was rolling out her prized dough. “Drew is really taken with Andrew.”

“I
would say
idolizes
would be more accurate.”

“You
know that’s not a bad thing,” Mom responded.

“I
know.”

“Children
need fathers as much as they need mothers.”

I
thought about my own father. He and my mother played very different but vital
roles in my life. “Andrew has been good for Drew. He has empowered him. I just
want him to stay my little boy is all.”

“Does
he love him?” she asked.

“They
love each other. They haven’t said it yet, but Andrew has told me on many
occasions how much he loves Drew. And I can see in Drew’s eyes the affection he
holds for Andrew.”

“Your
father and I will do our best to accept him.”

I
smiled over at my mother. “I really appreciate that, but you have a couple of
months at least before he makes his appearance into our world.”

“That’s
probably good. Your dad could use all the time he can get.”

We
both laughed. My dad was a great guy, but set in his ways and a little
hot-headed. As his daughter, I could usually talk him into anything, but I
wasn’t sure how much power I held when it came to Andrew.

Around
dinner time, I received a text from Andrew.
I promise I’m not ignoring you
or Drew. Just be patient with me. It will be worth it.

Okay,
is
all I texted back. He was behaving peculiarly. And Drew had hit the peak of
excitement. Santa was coming and he could hardly contain himself, or the
whistle he had made with my dad. I was going to need Advil by the end of the
night.

“I
can’t wait for tomorrow,” he repeated over and over as we made sugar cookies
for Santa, or grandpa, however you wanted to look at it. “I hope Santa got my
letter. You mailed it, right?”

“I
put extra stamps on to get it there faster.”

He
looked relieved. He grinned and showed off his new front teeth.

The
cookies were made with way too many sprinkles, á la Drew, but he was happy, so
that’s what mattered. Once Drew was in his pajamas and his teeth were brushed,
we set out a plate of the overly decorated cookies and a glass of milk. I
snuggled up with my favorite little man on the couch and read to him, ’
Twas
the Night Before Christmas.
Then my dad told him the story of baby Jesus.

Drew
was still buzzing by the time we made it to bed. I lay on his bed with him and
read
Harry Potter
until we were both sleepy, but I couldn’t fall asleep.
I had stockings to fill and my dad was putting Drew’s new bike together in the
garage. Santa had to come through. I lay there a moment longer after Drew dozed
off. It was ten, and way past his bed time. I wondered why I hadn’t heard from
Andrew. I worried if this was a bad sign. Maybe I had been too optimistic about
our relationship.

I
had to make myself get up. I was tired, but I wouldn’t disappoint Drew. I got
myself ready for bed first. I was happy to be able to wear silk shorts and a
cotton tee to bed. I really could get used to the warm weather in the winter. I
threw my hair up and washed my face before heading out to check on my dad. He
was just about done with Drew’s new yellow and black Mongoose BMX bike.

I
stood at the garage door and watched my dad. My mom had long been asleep. “I’m
going to fill the stockings.”

“I’m
almost done here and then I’ll bring it in and place it near the tree.”

“Thank
you, Dad. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

He
looked up from tightening the front wheel. “You’re my girl.”

My
mom was right. Children needed good fathers. I hoped Andrew didn’t disappoint.

I
went about filling the stockings, even my own. I was treating myself to
specialty lotions and an expensive perfume, along with sea salt dark chocolate
caramels. Santa was good to me this year. I was almost done when my phone
vibrated on the coffee table. I snatched it and answered before it woke anyone
up.

Andrew
didn’t even let me say hello. “I’m here.”

“What
do you mean you’re here?”

“I
mean I’m in Tucson sitting in your parents’ driveway.”

I
sat stunned for a moment. “Is this a joke?”

“Come
outside and see.”

I
felt girlish and flushed, and maybe a lot like Drew waiting for Santa. I rushed
out the front door and met Andrew on the walkway leading up to the concrete
porch. I couldn’t believe he was here. He looked exhausted, but pleased with
himself. He wasted no time taking me into his arms. I sank into him and he
pulled me as close as he could. A feeling of belonging and desire overcame me.
My senses took him in, from the way he smelled—woodsy and masculine—to how good
his hard body felt against mine. How soft and warm his lips felt against my
neck.

“You’re
here,” I whispered.

He
kissed his way up my neck and face. “I couldn’t go another day without seeing you,
or my son,” he spoke against my ear.

“Why
didn’t you tell us you were coming?”

“I
just decided this morning.”

I
pulled back and looked into his tired but happy eyes. I ran my hand across his
unshaven cheek. I had to say the stubble looked good on him. “You decided on a
whim to drive thirteen hours to see us?”

His
hands crept up and engulfed my face as he tenderly held my cheeks. His tired
eyes were alive and full of yearning. He leaned in closer. I could feel his hot
breath against my skin. His lips played above mine, teasing them. “This was no
whim.”

His
passionate tones released a rush of emotion. I had never wanted anyone more in
my life.