Taylor Lynne: The Women of Merryton - Book Two (6 page)

I put it in my purse. “I’m
only using it for Emmy’s clothes.”

He shook his head
at me. “No. I don’t want Ashley to think I love her less.”

My eyes flashed and I
clenched my purse.

He winced. “I know buying
her clothes won’t make up for the last however many years, but I have to start
somewhere. Please let me do this for Ashley.”

I ran my fingers through
my curled hair and tried to let go of my anger. “Okay.”

His smile returned. “You
really are terrific. Now where are those muffins?”

As we drove to Denver, I
tried not to think of the morning exchange I’d had with Easton. I especially
tried not to think about the way my body reacted to his touch. I was a grown
woman in my forties for crying out loud. I wasn’t some hormonally crazed teen,
but for a brief moment as the butterflies had erupted in my stomach and my body
had been all tingly from his touch, I’d sure felt like one. It was completely
absurd. I reminded myself that he cheated on me and pushed the feelings aside.

We wound our way down the
canyon to the sound of country music blaring on the radio. It wasn’t my
favorite, but we always compromised. I would listen to Ashley’s music for half
the time and then I got the pleasure of putting on my “old” music. My mom
raised me on Al Green, Marvin Gaye, Percy Sledge, and Otis Redding—the greats.
After all of these years, it was my go-to music. My daughter had never
appreciated it, but maybe someday. It eventually grew on her father. But I
wasn’t thinking about that.

Ashley and I kept trying
to engage Emmy in conversation as we made our way to the shopping complex. She
was such a quiet girl, but as we neared the city she seemed apprehensive. She
kept glancing out the window. She was wringing her small hands.

“Emmy, darlin’, are you
okay?”

“My mom lives in Denver,”
was all she said.

“Oh, I didn’t know that.
Did you want to see her today?” I prayed she would say no. I didn’t want to
ever see that woman again, if at all possible.

She shook her pretty
little head no. It dawned on me that her apprehension probably meant the
opposite—she was afraid she would see her mom. Why would that be? Easton never
elaborated, but he had made mention that he didn’t want Kathryn involved in
Emmy’s life.

I proceeded with caution.
“You know, Denver is a big place and in fact, we won’t really be in Denver, so
we won’t see your mom at all.” I wasn’t sure my hunch was completely right, so
I wanted to tread lightly just in case, but judging by the way Emmy visibly
relaxed, I was sure I’d hit the nail on the head. Ashley and I both looked at
each other with understanding glances. Something was definitely off. No little
girl should be afraid to see her mother. But unfortunately, I could relate. If
I thought we might see my father today, I would be behaving similarly.

I changed the subject
quickly, and with Ashley’s help, we got her talking about what she liked to do
for fun and about clothes. Two of Ashley’s favorite subjects, and admittedly
mine, too. Clothes were one of my many weaknesses.

We learned that Emmy loved
swimming, horseback riding, and camping. I wasn’t surprised. Easton loved to
camp, or at least he used to. Me, not so much. Ashley had been camping, but she
had been too young to remember it. Easton convinced me it would be fun to take
a one-year-old camping. I wouldn’t have categorized it as fun. It sounded like
Easton had taken Emmy camping plenty of times, just the two of them. I looked
at Ashley when Emmy mentioned it, and I could tell it bothered her a little.
Ashley was a forgiving person, but there was some resentment there and I
couldn’t blame her. It didn’t take her long to get a hold of her emotions as
she continued to engage her sister in conversation. She was an amazing girl and
I was the luckiest mom ever.

We made it to the shopping
complex just as the doors opened at ten, which was good. We had two new summer
wardrobes to buy and my curtains. As we walked in, I noticed how close Emmy
stayed to me. Every day this girl was wending her way into my heart. I had this
innate desire to want to take care of her. I put my arm around and held her to
me as we walked. I wanted her to feel safe and protected.

Ashley and I agreed we
should start in the kids’ section, because once Ashley got going with trying on
outfits we would be awhile. At our first department store, we found some
darling capris in fun colors like tangerine and aqua as well as some striped
shirts to match. They fit Emmy great and brought out her beautiful, creamy skin
tone. We also found the perfect sundress for Ashley. As we continued store by
store, we added bag upon bag filled with shorts, dresses, shoes, shirts, pants,
and under garments.

While shopping for
accessories, Ashley turned toward her little sister. “You should get your ears
pierced.” Ashley held up a lovely pair of amethyst earrings against Emmy’s ear.

I could tell Emmy wanted to
but was a little unsure about it.

“We’ll get matching
earrings,” Ashley continued to coax her sister. “We both have February
birthdays, so we can get matching birthstone earrings.”

I hadn’t realized Emmy
was also born in February.

Emmy’s face lit up. She
was convinced. We only needed to convince her dad, or rather, the girls did. I
was staying out of that conversation.

Easton was easily
persuaded by Ashley. She had a knack for it. I guess it was a good thing I had
the same last name as Emmy; I had to stretch the truth some on the paperwork
and say I was her guardian.

Emmy sat timidly on the
chair, waiting for the small pinch. By her look, you would have thought they
were going to torture her.

Ashley tried to keep some
levity by making funny faces at her. It kind of worked; at least Emmy cracked a
smile.

After the first ear, her
sweet brown eyes began to water, but she bravely let them do the second one. I
think by the end my eyes were watering, too. I was willing to buy her a puppy
or anything else she requested to make up for the pain I allowed to be
inflicted on her. In the end, she seemed pleased as she stared at her
reflection in the mirror and touched the tiny purple earrings. I found my heart
swelling as I watched her and stroked her hair. I wasn’t sure what to make of
it. For a tiny moment, I looked between the sisters, who looked like sisters,
and I wished … I wished for something I shouldn’t, something I couldn’t have.

After doing some major
damage to Easton’s credit card and Emmy’s ear (okay the piercing was minor) we
headed to the food court in search of sustenance. I wasn’t hopeful we would
find anything I would categorize as such, but the girls vetoed me. They
indulged in hamburgers, fries, and chocolate shakes. I found a halfway decent
grilled chicken salad.

After lunch the girls
threw me for a loop. “Momma, since we are here, can Emmy and I pick out some
Father’s Day gifts for Dad?”

It was my least favorite
holiday of the year. I tried to forget about it. The only years I enjoyed it were
the two when Ashley was a few months old and when she was one. I reflected back
on the little hand and feet impressions of Ashley I made for Easton. I missed
those tiny, kissable fingers and toes. I wondered if he kept them.

“So, Momma, would that be
okay?” Ashley asked, bringing me out of my thoughts about Easton.

“Yes, of course,” I said
without thinking. I reached into my purse, pulled out my wallet, and handed
them some cash. I couldn’t very well let them use their dad’s card to buy his
gifts, and I had no desire to shop for him either. “You girls take this and get
your dad something nice. While you’re doing that, I’ll shop for curtains. How
does that sound?”

They both shrugged their
shoulders and took the money. I could tell they didn’t like my plan, but
thankfully they were going along with it.

Ashley kissed me on the
cheek. “Thanks.”

I could tell he was
bummed when she took Emmy by the hand and left me staring after them.

Was it really a bad thing
for me not to want to shop for my ex-husband’s Father’s Day gift? It wasn’t
that I hadn’t ever before. The last several years I always made sure Ashley got
him something and sent it to him, but I had been looking forward to the day I
could send her to the store to do it herself. I mean, he wasn’t
my
dad.
I didn’t even like to think of my own dad on Father’s Day. In my book, the only
man worth caring about on that particular day was Harry, and I had already sent
his gift. He was more of a father to me than anyone. Even if he wasn’t thrilled
when I was born—he always told me that had nothing to do with me, and
everything to do with my no-good father who had stolen his baby girl away. Grams
said the moment he laid on eyes on me he was in love, but since he thought he
was too young to be a grandpa, he wanted to be called Harry.

As I perused through a
few stores in search of the perfect curtains, I had a nagging feeling of guilt.
I didn’t know why. Okay, I kind of did. I will say that though Easton was a
cheating spouse, for the past sixteen Mother’s Days, I’d received a bouquet of pink
roses. The number of roses in each arrangement equaled the years Easton had
been a dad. It had been a sweet gesture. Each card had read, “Thanks for making
me a dad.” It was so stupid, but I started tearing up just thinking about it.

There was only one thing
I could do. I pulled out my phone and dialed my daughter. “Ashley, love, where
are you guys?”

We picked out Easton’s
favorite cologne and a very handsome Italian leather case. And last but not
least, a fancy pen to write out prescriptions with. I was the best ex-wife
ever. More importantly, it made the girls happy.

By five o’clock, we were
beat and weighed down with bags. I was grateful that my SUV had plenty of room
in the back; we covered almost every inch of it.

Halfway through the drive
home, we looked back to find Emmy sound asleep. She looked so adorable curled
up into herself.

I had Ashley lay my
jacket over her so she didn’t chill in the air-conditioned car. “You are such a
mom, Momma.”

“I’ll take that as a
compliment.”

Ashley giggled softly at
my sarcasm, but it was short lived. “Has Dad told you why Emmy seems so afraid
of her mom?” she almost whispered.

I briefly glanced at
Ashley. “No. I don’t think he wants to talk about it,” I whispered back. And to
be honest, I didn’t really want to know. It was none of my business. Kathryn
was already my least favorite person. I didn’t need any more reasons to hate
her.

“Well, I’m just glad
you’re my momma.”

I squeezed her knee
gently. “You and me both, baby girl.” She was the greatest blessing in my life.

We pulled back into
Merryton around seven and met Easton at Jessie Belle’s Café. I only agreed to
it because the girls were becoming great little blackmailers, not to mention I
was starving and too tired to even think about cooking.

Easton met us at my car
with a big grin on his tired face. Though his smile said happy, I could tell it
had been a long day for him. His eyes said it all.

Emmy had woken up and was
the first out of the car to meet her dad. She showed off her pierced ears. “Dad,
you should see all the clothes we got. I got new dresses and swimsuits.”

I wasn’t sure I had ever heard
her this talkative or excited.

Ashley was next. “Thanks,
Dad, for everything today.”

He hugged her and kissed the
top of her head.

That small act had my
eyes stinging. I took a deep breath to ward off any unwanted tears. I was just …
I don’t know what I was. Maybe relieved was a good word—relieved that Easton
loved my Ashley too.

Easton turned his
attention to me next. “Did I get you anything today?” he teased.

I handed him his platinum
card that was begging for reprieve. “No.” I half-smiled.

“Well, I guess dinner
will be my treat then.” He smiled back at me.

I didn’t even argue. It
would have been a losing battle anyway.

We walked in to find that
it wasn’t busy. We were seated right away by a young man that couldn’t keep his
eyes off my daughter. I had a feeling her social calendar was going to be full
and I was going to be at risk of a mild heart attack. I noticed Easton noticing,
too. I smiled. By his reddened face, I could tell he was having a harder time
with it than me.

Ashley, on the other hand,
loved the attention. She squeezed my hand covertly while grinning slyly. She
was too beautiful for my own good.

Easton and I somehow
ended up seated next to one another at the small circular table. I was too
tired to put up a fuss. I did my best to ignore that he was close enough to feel
warmth radiating from him. I could also smell his warm, woodsy scent that used
to drive me crazy. I tried ignoring it all, but was failing miserably. My hormones
were betraying me. They were making me think that I liked him and missed him. I
told myself it was a chemical reaction, nothing else.

The cozy café was sparsely
populated, but most eyes were on us. Yes, we were causing quite the stir. I
could hear the gossip now. I wondered how soon I would become the reason for the
good doctor’s divorce. I knew I should be more like Easton and not care what
others thought of me, but I did care. I already felt like a pariah. Daughter of
the town’s biggest drunk, ex-wife of the handsome doctor, middle aged, single …
You get the picture. All I needed was the Scarlet Letter. At least I wasn’t
pregnant, I told myself.

After a few moments of
perusing the menu, I was pleasantly surprised when Jessie came over.

“Taylor,” she called on
her way over. She was dolled up and looked like she was in a hurry.