Taylor Lynne: The Women of Merryton - Book Two (14 page)

I eyed him and the ice
cream warily and debated with myself.

He laughed and pushed the
spoon farther until it almost reached my closed mouth.

“Come on, Momma,” Ashley
jumped into the fray.

“You know you want to,”
he said.

“Peer pressure doesn’t—”
I didn’t get to finish my sentence because as soon as I opened my mouth, he
shoved the spoon in. I was so caught off guard I sputtered and almost choked. I
grabbed a napkin so nothing came flying out of my mouth. Meanwhile, the table
erupted in laughter.

“How old are you?” I
asked as soon as I had swallowed.

Everyone was still
laughing at me, Easton the loudest.

“You know you enjoyed it.”
He grinned.

I rolled my eyes at him.
It was good, but that was never going to be mentioned.

As we left, I grabbed
onto Easton’s arm and held him back. He seemed taken aback by the touch, but pleased
by the look in his eye. I had seen it before. “Hey,” I whispered as the girls
walked out and away from us. “Will you call me tonight after Emmy goes to bed?”

He placed his own hand
over mine on his toned bicep.

I probably should have
removed my hand before he had the chance, but I found I kind of liked touching
him. I also found my heart rate was up a little and my hormones were way out of
whack.

He looked down at me as
he firmly held on to my hand. “So is this going to be an every night occurrence?”

“No,” I said flustered.
He was messing with my senses. “I need to talk to you about Emmy,” I said ever
so quietly.

His eyes immediately
registered concern.

“It’s nothing to worry about,”
I said in response. I removed my hand from his grip. I needed some air and
space. I pushed myself out the door in a rush and breathed in the cool Colorado
air. I was finally starting to acclimate a little to the cool nights. In fact,
I found them refreshing. The girls were both waiting for us. Ashley had a gleam
in her eye as she looked at her dad and me. I wondered what that was about.

He didn’t call until
eleven o’clock. “Taylor.”

I was already comfortably
in bed. Not sleeping, but content to rest. I sat up all the way. “Did Emmy just
go to bed?” I was expecting a call much earlier.

“Sometimes she has a hard
time falling asleep.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.

“She has nightmares
sometimes; she’s afraid to fall asleep.”

Poor Emmy. She seemed to
be haunted, day and night.

“That breaks my heart. I
wish I could help her.”

“You have been.”

“Me?”

“Are you kidding me, Taylor?
This is the happiest Emmy’s ever been. She loves having you and Ashley around.”

“The feeling is mutual,”
I admitted.

He paused for a second.
“Thanks for being so good to her despite who her mother is.”

“Honestly, I pretend Emmy
came into being like a Cabbage Patch Kid.”

He chuckled a bit. “If
we’re being honest, I wish that were true.” He cleared his throat. “So … what
did you want to speak to me about that was so mysterious? Or did you just want
me to call?”

“I see you’re as full of
yourself as ever.”

“I remember once upon a
time you found it charming.”

“That was half a lifetime
ago.”

“We’re not that old.”

“I hate to inform you,
but I was twenty-one when we met and now I’m forty-two.”

“I still don’t believe
it. You look too good for forty-two.”

He totally caught me off
guard. “Uh … Thanks.”

“I’m being sincere.”

“I’m sure you are, it’s …
you know, awkward.”

“Well, maybe you should
tell me how good looking I still am and it won’t be awkward anymore.”

I laughed. “I would, but
I fear your head may explode.”

“Ouch.”

“I know that didn’t
damage your ego.”

“No, I really mean ouch.
I’m finding moving is difficult.”

“Yeah, sorry. Are you okay?
Getting hit by that ball looked painful.”

“You have no idea. That
jerk is lucky I couldn’t move right away.”

“I think everyone wanted to
make him pay.”

“I heard you looked
worried about me.”

“Don’t believe everything
you hear.” I’d had enough of the playful banter. “I had an interesting
conversation with Emmy today.”

“I guess we’ll have to
get back to the part where you almost ran down to the field to check on me.” He
laughed to himself.

“Okay, comedian, don’t
quit your day job.”

“All right, let’s talk
about Emmy, but don’t forget you used to think I was funny.”

Not really. He used to
think he was funny and I loved him enough to pretend really well. I let it
slide; there was no sense in bursting his bubble now. “This is a little
uncomfortable for me, for obvious reasons, but Emmy has some serious
self-esteem issues, and some of those stem from kids making fun of her.”

“Kids make fun of her?
She’s never said anything to me about it.”

“Well, I think she’s
embarrassed to talk to you because you’re a guy.”

“But I’m her dad, and
basically her mom.”

As curious as I was about
that last part, I didn’t hone in on it. I needed to at least keep some distance
here. That brochure was false advertising at its best. “This isn’t an indictment
against you. It’s just there are some things girls are more comfortable talking
to women about.”

“Did she start her
period?” I had never heard him so panicked.

“Calm down, Dad, she
didn’t start her period. That would be a little tough to hide.”

I heard him let out a
huge sigh of relief. I laughed at him some.

“If it’s not her period,
then what?”

“For starters, she’s
self-conscious about her looks; she wants her hair to be done every day.”

“Uh …” he stuttered.

“Don’t worry, Ashley and
I can cover that one. We’ll do a hair-styling boot camp this summer.”

“Thanks,” he said
gratefully.

“You’re welcome, but
you’re going to need to decide whether she’s old enough to shave her legs.”

“What? She’s nine.”

“Yeah, well, some kids
have made fun of her because of it, and she’s embarrassed.”

I could picture him
rubbing his neck while I silently waited for his reply.

“What do you think?” he
asked after a long pause.

“Easton, this is your
call.”

“Please, Taylor? How old
was Ashley when you let her start shaving her legs?”

“I let her start the
first year of middle school, so she was eleven. But Emmy and Ashley are very different,”
I threw in there for good measure.

He sighed and I could
almost hear the wheels turning in his brain.

“I think you should let
her,” I lobbed out into the silence. I knew it wasn’t my place, but I figured
it wasn’t going to harm her. Yes, she was young, but she needed to feel good
about herself.

“I don’t know the first
thing about shaving legs.”

“Are you asking for my
help … again?”

“You really are the
best.”

“Yeah, yeah. Goodnight.”

“See you tomorrow.”

I sank down into my bed
and tried to shut off my swirling thoughts and emotions. What was I getting
into by entangling myself with my ex-husband and his daughter?

Sunday was the regular
routine. Emmy and Easton came over before church. I helped Emmy with her hair
while Easton and Ashley talked. The only difference was that I let Emmy do her own
hair while I supervised. She was little clumsy with the brush, but she was
getting it. It’s harder work than people think, using a brush and a blow dryer
at the same time. Good thing we had all summer to teach her.

We drove separately
again, but still shared a pew. Little Miss must have had the world’s smallest
bladder. Emmy and Ashley headed for the bathroom as soon as we got there. We
have three at my house. Really? So it left me awkwardly sitting next to Easton.
I felt like we were the daily special in the display case.

Raphe walked in and we
made eye contact. He immediately turned fire engine red and averted his eyes. I
think he begged his mom not to sit across from us.

All of this did not go
unnoticed by Easton. “So,” Easton bent down low and whispered in my ear. Oh
yeah, that wasn’t going to cause the rumors to fly. And unfortunately I liked
the feel of his breath against my skin, particularly my neck. “I noticed Raphe
didn’t come to the game last night. What happened?”

I turned to him and was
met with bright, not tired eyes. I was intoxicated by his cinnamon breath. I
needed to quit going to church. “I forgot to tell you,” I whispered quietly.
“They’re going to be just friends.”

His eyes danced with
relief. “Why?”

“Apparently his kisses
are slimy and that was a deal breaker for our daughter.” I smiled.

Easton chuckled soft and
low. “I hope you told her kissing is slimy until you’re at least twenty-five.”

I thought back to our conversation
Friday night about kissing and the man in front of me that gave perfect, non-slimy
kisses. “Too bad for us, she knows we married young.”

He leaned closer, if that
was possible. “So, you’re saying my kisses weren’t a turn-off.”

My hormones went into
hyperdrive. I had forgotten how alluring he could be. He wasn’t supposed to be.
We were divorced, and in church, for goodness sake. And did I mention how old I
was? Forty-two year-olds shouldn’t get butterflies in the pit of their stomachs,
and they shouldn’t want to lean a little more in and rest their lips on their
ex-husband’s. I raised an eyebrow but couldn’t speak, and he grinned broadly. I
turned, faced forward, and took a deep breath in. I had a feeling I was heading
up to the little room after the Pastor preached.

I didn’t make it up to
the little room; I had a better excuse not to attend Sunday school. My phone
vibrated as soon as the service ended. I thought I had turned it off. I didn’t
recognize the number, but I was desperate to be anywhere Easton wasn’t, so I
excused myself and walked toward the exit and answered it.

On my way out, I noticed
all the grinning faces. Many were from the women’s group. Easton and I were all
the rage on the Merryton grapevine.

“Hello,” I practically
whispered as I made my way to the foyer and then outside.

“Taylor.”

I recognized the nervous
voice of my ex-sister-in-law almost immediately. “Nicole.”

“I know it’s been a
while.”

I felt my eyes sting with
tears as I walked toward the little park near the church. “Too long. How are
you?” I asked.

If I wasn’t mistaken, I
could hear her choke up on the other end. “We are well.”

“I’m so happy to hear
that.”

“How are you and Ashley?”

“Adjusting, but good.”

“We have all the
Christmas cards and pictures you’ve sent of Ashley over the years. She’s
beautiful,” she responded in a rush.

“Thank you,” I replied. The
conversation felt a little forced, which was sad. Nicole and I used to talk
regularly before the divorce. Back then, we couldn’t talk fast enough or long
enough.

“Taylor?”

“Yes.”

“I’m so sorry,” she broke
down.

“What for?”

“I feel terrible that I
didn’t keep in touch, or at least contact Ashley. Every year you always
remembered our boys’ birthdays and sent them a card and we were so … well …
wrong about you and what really happened. I don’t know what to say other than
I’m sorry and I missed you.”

I wiped my eyes to clear
out the moisture that seemed to be there more often lately. “You don’t need to
be sorry. I left and—”

“I should have called,”
she interrupted.

“Your loyalties were with
Easton, as they should have been.”

“We shouldn’t have taken
sides, especially considering.”

“Considering what?”

She paused for a long few
seconds. “As we got to know Kathryn I could tell something was off. Caden and I
began to wonder if maybe she had fooled Easton. We believed him when he denied
the affair, but after a while we started to wonder. And then there was a big
blow up several years ago and it was like poof, Easton was out of our lives.”

I knew the feeling,
though I was partially to blame for that.

“We were so surprised,”
she continued, “when Easton called on Father’s Day. He said you had encouraged
him to. We were more than surprised to hear you were living near each other
again.”

“No one more than me,
believe me.”

She laughed. “I imagine
it must be difficult.”

“That’s a word for it,” I
responded.

“Oh, Taylor, it’s so good
to talk to you. I know we can’t go back, but I hope we don’t lose touch again.
We have so much to catch up on. Our Joey is practically engaged.”

“Really?” Joey was their
oldest son. He would be twenty-five now.

“His girlfriend, Harley,
is a darling girl.”

“I’m sure she is.”

“Maybe you could all come
for the wedding once a date is set. We would love to see all of you.”

I paused. I didn’t ever
plan on vacationing with Easton. We weren’t a family. “I’m sure Ashley would
love to come with Easton and Emmy when the time comes.”

“Please think about it.”

“I will.”

From there we caught up
briefly. I was happy to hear that their younger son, Trent, was accepted to
Northwestern and would start winter term. I missed my nephews and Easton’s
family.

Once the call ended, I
stayed on the park bench to soak in what had happened. I felt like my life
lately was a string of never ending surprises. At least this one had been
pleasant. I was glad to know Easton and Caden were communicating now. I
wondered how I was going to remain apathetic through the next couple of years—I
was already doing a terrible job of it. Easton was infusing himself into my
life more than I ever expected. Too bad he was fourteen years too late.

I took my time walking
back to church. The parishioners were already filing out. Easton and the girls
were among them. They all looked my way at the same time.

I met them at our cars, which
were parked next to each other.

“You keep disappearing
during Sunday school,” Easton started.

“Nicole called,” I blurted
out.

He didn’t seem surprised.
“She called and asked for your number. I hope you don’t mind that I gave it to
her.”

“Not at all.”

“Thanks again, you know,
for encouraging me to call Caden.”