Unraveled (22 page)

When she finished talking to Shannon, Lauren fully intended to visit with Granny. But her therapy left her exhausted and Shannon urged her to come back later. Lauren couldn’t decide if Granny truly needed a nap or Shannon wanted her to go and talk to Blake.

She left the hospital and sat in the van, the keys in the ignition, her head propped on the steering wheel. What next? Thank goodness she had that interview in Portland. At least she could go back, maybe find a smaller apartment and try to put the pieces of her life back together.

You’re not finished here.

The voice whispered from somewhere deep within.

That’s ridiculous. Last night had proven quite the opposite. Weary and confused, Lauren eventually lifted her head, started the engine and drove out of the parking lot.

Although she planned on going home, at the last second she turned the van in the opposite direction and drove down to the waterfront. Staring out at the deep green waters of the cove on a beautiful summer day always soothed her. Even as a young girl, when she was disappointed or angry or frustrated, she would ride her bike down to the harbor and sit for hours. There was a vacant parking spot next to her favorite bench so she pulled in and turned off the engine.

Climbing out of the van, she couldn’t resist a glance across the street at Blake’s shop. Her breath caught when she recognized his truck parked out front. Maybe she should go over, take him some coffee and tell him the whole story.
Forget it. He doesn’t want to talk to you.
She turned her back on the shop and sank down on the bench with a heavy sigh. What a nightmare.

“Lauren? Lauren Carter? Is that you?” A very pregnant woman waddled toward her, the light breeze tousling her adorable blond pixie haircut.

“Christi?” Jason Cavanaugh’s wife stopped in front of the bench, chest heaving with exertion. Lauren stood and gave her an awkward hug, trying to avoid the baby bump.

“I thought that was you. Jason told me you were back in town.” Christi’s eyes flitted toward Blake’s shop and back to Lauren. “What are you doing down here?”

“Um, just needed a little fresh air. That’s all. How about you?” Lauren studied her friend’s curious expression.
Does she know?

“Oh, I brought Jason some lunch. He’s working on the boat today. Want to grab some coffee? I’m totally craving a latte.”

Lauren hesitated. If she went into the Copper Kettle for coffee there was an excellent chance she’d run into Blake. On the other hand, they were bound to run into each other at some point.

“Okay.” Lauren followed Christi across the street. “Congratulations, by the way. I had no idea you were expecting.”
“Thanks. Two weeks to go. Although she seems pretty comfortable in there.”

Lauren almost mentioned her own pregnancy going to forty-two weeks, but stopped herself before it was too late.
No.
Her stomach plummeted. She fumbled for a compliment about Christi’s appearance instead.

Megan eyed them from her post behind the espresso machine as they entered the coffee shop. “Can I help you?”

Lauren rattled off her order and tried to ignore Megan’s subsequent eye roll.

Christi giggled. “Just a decaf vanilla latte for me. Thanks, Megan.”

While they waited, Christi brought Lauren up to date on the last nine years of her life. Lauren dodged almost all personal questions by circling back to the baby. Christi was more than happy to oblige, spilling all the details about their plans for the baby’s room and their short list of potential names.

Megan looked up from her cell phone and cleared her throat. “Could you take my brother his coffee?”

Lauren swiveled toward the young girl. “I’m sorry. What?”

“Blake. He wants coffee. I’m not supposed to leave the shop. Can you take it to him?”

Lauren swallowed hard and glanced at Christi. Maybe she could deliver it. But if Lauren refused, that left her wide open to questions.

Christi smiled. “Go ahead. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment, anyway.”

Dang it.
She nodded slowly, unable to speak.

“Good to see you.” Christi patted her arm. “Maybe we can get together with Shannon and have lunch sometime.”

“Sure, I’d like that.” Lauren pasted on a smile.
Not that you’ll still be speaking to me
. She knew her secrets were safe with Shannon, but scandalous news like this would spread like wildfire. Jane would make sure of that. It was only a matter of time.

“Here. Thanks.” Megan slid the coffee into a cardboard sleeve and passed it to Lauren.

Heart pounding, Lauren grabbed the coffee and slipped out the door. Every step toward the shop next door felt like her shoes were filled with concrete. It was just coffee. They didn’t actually have to talk to each other. She could hand it to him and leave.

The bell on the door jingled as she stepped in. Blake stood behind the counter, eyes on his computer and the phone pinned between his shoulder and his ear. His eyes met hers and he clenched his jaw. She took another sip of her own coffee and pretended she belonged there.

“Let me call you back, okay? Thanks.” Blake hung up and stared at her. His piercing gaze cut straight to her heart. Dark circles ringed his eyes and a day’s worth of stubble clung to his angular jaw.

Say something
. She lifted the coffee cup. “Megan sent this over.”

“Thanks.”

The silence unnerved her. It was a long walk to the counter but she made it. Sliding the cup toward him, she wracked her brain for something to say. He pressed his lips into a thin line and looked down at the counter.

“Busy today?” She cringed at her lame attempt at small talk.

“Don’t.” His head shot up and anger flashed in his eyes.

“What?”

“Don’t pretend like everything’s okay.”

“I’m not pretending. I brought—” Her knees quaked and her cheeks burned.
This was a mistake
.

“How could you?” His voice broke and he dropped his chin to his chest, hands braced against the counter.

She stumbled back. “Blake, please. Let me explain.”

He snorted and shook his head in disgust. “You gave away my child, Lauren. My
son
. Yes, please. Explain it to me.”

His words knifed at her heart, severing any hope that he might forgive her. Not that she deserved it. She pressed her palm to her lips to stifle a sob. Turning away, she hurried toward the door, tears blurring her vision.
That’s right. Run. Just like you always do.
She should’ve never come here. What a fool she was for thinking he would listen to her.

Blake watched Lauren run out of the shop, hair streaming behind her as she jogged toward the minivan.

Go after her.

No. Don’t even think about it.

She had him in pieces. All over again. One minute he longed to pull her close and mourn together for the child they’d created but released to someone else. The next, he wanted to grab her and ask a million questions. Did she hold him when he was born? What did he smell like? Was she alone when she delivered or was the rich doctor already in the picture? Most of all—and this is the one that nearly killed him—could his son ever find him?

Blake’s knees grew weak and he sank into the chair in front of the computer. The thought of his own flesh and blood out there in the world, without him, was almost more than he could bear. Rubbing a hand across his scruffy chin, he tapped the computer to wake it from its hibernation and glanced over the reservations for the day. They were slammed. A party of fifteen had booked a white water rafting trip for the afternoon. That meant all hands on deck, so to speak. There wasn’t time to wallow. Somehow he had to put on his game face and get the job done.

The front door opened again and Jeremy came in, his face ashen. “Hey.”

Blake swallowed hard and managed a wave. “Hey.”

Crossing the shop, Jeremy came around the counter and stopped in front of Blake. “A fist bump hardly seems appropriate in this situation, but I wanted to tell you that Mom shared, uh, what happened.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, man.”

Blake held out his fist anyway. Jeremy bumped it, a half smile tipping up one side of his mouth. “Thanks. I’m sorry, too.”

Jeremy hoisted himself up on the counter. “I heard you stopped by Mack’s last night. Why didn’t you call me?”

“What were you going to do? Talk me out of taking a drink? Don’t worry. Lefty pretty much had that covered.” Even if Lefty hadn’t refused to serve him, probably half the bar would’ve run him out of there. One of the perks of living in a small town. Laughter escaped his lips.

Jeremy’s brows knitted together. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing funny about it. Ironic, really. Nobody in that bar was going to let a drop of whiskey touch my lips. But my girlfriend managed to leave town pregnant, gave our baby up for adoption, and no one said a word?”

Jeremy winced. “I don’t think you’re supposed to say ‘gave up.’” He quoted the air for extra emphasis.

“Oh, excuse me if I’m not quite up on the current lingo.” He picked his rafting helmet up off the desk and chucked it across the room. It crashed into the wall and landed upside down, spinning like a top. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

Jeremy held up both hands. “Take it easy, man. This is new turf for all of us. I’m just trying to help. Saying ‘gave up’ just sounds so … cruel. Like you didn’t want him. I doubt that’s the case.”

He winced. Even though he gave his younger brother a hard time for his free-spirited ways, Jeremy’s words were spot on. He drew in a ragged breath, puffed his cheeks and blew the air out slowly. “I just wish I’d known. You know? Maybe things would’ve been different.”

After Lefty talked some sense into him last night, Blake left the bar and drove straight to his parents’ house. Then he crawled into his old bed and sobbed until he had nothing left. His mom came home from her night shift at the hospital and woke him up for breakfast.

He’d shared the big news while she fixed her signature scrambled eggs, bacon, and coffee. Emphasis on the coffee. Blake didn’t have the heart to turn down a meal when he knew she’d worked all night, but he could barely choke down more than a few bites. While he moved his food around on his plate, those were the words she’d repeated over and over.
If only we’d known
.

“Do you think Dad knows anything yet?” Blake leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

“I don’t know. Dad’s working almost around the clock on the new bridge project. I think he probably left before Mom got home.”

“I’ve got to find a way to tell him myself.” Blake glanced at his watch. He could drive by the construction site on his way out to the river, but that wasn’t exactly the time or the place to break that kind of news to Dad.

“Well, judging by the looks of the kitchen, Mom’s got a lot on her mind. That place was absolutely spotless when I stopped by.”

Blake couldn’t help but smile. Mom always cleaned like a woman possessed when she was upset. Needless to say, she didn’t handle the baby bombshell well at all. In fact, Lauren better hope they didn’t cross paths anytime soon. Mom was devastated. Their families were such fixtures in each other’s lives for so long. This kind of betrayal was difficult to absorb. For everybody.

“Come on. Ride with me. We’ve got a big afternoon ahead and they’re calling for a storm tonight.” Blake grabbed his keys and followed Jeremy out of the shop, locking the door behind him. He’d have to catch up with Dad some other time, not to mention sharing the news with Megan. His chest tightened.
Here, baby sister, this is what you don’t do
. Maybe he’d grab some steaks when they came off the river, fix a nice quiet dinner and spend some time with his family. Lord knows, he needed them now.

"M-m-Mom made c-c-cookies. Would you l-l-like some?” Seth held out a chocolate chip cookie on a napkin.

Lauren sat in an Adirondack chair at the edge of the yard, knees tucked up under her chin. She’d been there all afternoon, a one-woman pity party. Her mouth was dry, throat raw.
Leave me alone
. Mom and Dad—if she could even call them that— had been walking on eggshells since the recent revelation that they weren’t actually her parents.

She wiped her nose on her sleeve. “No, thanks. You can have it, Seth.”

“C-c-can’t. Hot d-d-date. Might r-r-ruin my ap-p-puh-tite.”

Lauren glanced up at Seth. He’d shaved his beard and his freshly-washed curls glistened in the late afternoon sunlight. His khaki pants were ironed and he wore a new denim shirt, tucked in and everything. She thought she detected the slightest hint of cologne. Her mouth dropped open. “Who are you and what have you done with the real Seth Carter?”

“Funny. I c-c-can clean up when I w-w-want to.”

“Who’s the lucky girl?”

A faint blush colored his cheeks. “Molly.”

“Good for you, Seth. She was always such a sweet girl.”

“Still is.”

Lauren smiled. “You have fun tonight.”

“Thanks. M-m-mom says d-d-don’t stay out here all n-n-night. M-m-mosquitoes. And a s-s-s-storm’s comin’.”

Lauren nodded. “Thanks. I know.”

Seth set the cookie and the napkin on the arm of her chair, patted her shoulder and walked away.

Lauren sighed and tipped her head back against the top of the chair. Mom was right. She couldn’t stay in this chair much longer. The mosquitoes would eat her alive. She popped the cookie in her mouth, grabbed the napkin and headed for the house.

Guests were arriving as she got to the front door, an adorable older couple from Maine. While Mom helped them figure out how to get back to town for dinner, Lauren stowed their luggage in their room. When she came back into the kitchen, Dad was sitting at the table, his radio and a cup of coffee in front of him. He motioned for her to join him.

Swallowing hard, she perched on the edge of the chair across from him. “Hi, Dad.”

“Hi, sweetheart. How are you?”

“I’ve been better.” She smoothed the napkin out on the table and avoided his gaze.

“I’m sure you have. Look at me.”

Lauren dragged her eyes up to meet his.

“Your mother and I, we are so sorry we never told you the truth.”

“I know.”

The front door closed and Mom came into the kitchen a minute later, sliding into the chair beside Dad. His radio crackled as another trooper called into the dispatcher. He turned down the volume.

“And the news about … your baby—” He bit his lip and looked away. Mom rested her head on his shoulder.

Lauren’s chest tightened and she felt another wave of tears cresting behind her weary eyes.

Dad cleared his throat. “What I’m trying to say is that we love you. We’ve always loved you and nothing will ever change that.”

Lauren nodded, swiping at the lone tear that trickled down her cheek. “I know.”

“Sweetheart, talk to us. We know you must have so much on your mind. This isn’t a burden you need to carry alone anymore,” Mom said.

“That’s the thing. I’ve lived like this for so long, I don’t know how not to. And I tried to talk to Blake this morning and he pretty much wants nothing to do with me. Everything is such a mess.”

“We’re all going to have to dig deep on this one, sweetheart. This is a lot for us to handle all at once,” Mom said.

“You think?” Irritation laced her voice. Mom flinched. Lauren instantly regretted her sarcasm. “I’m sorry. I should—”

“You don’t have to apologize. Your world’s been turned upside down. We get that,” Dad said.

“And I get that you’re probably wondering what in the world I was thinking. The orphan girl gives away your grandson. Doesn’t seem right, does it?”
Take it easy
. But the anger and hurt bubbled up within and she couldn’t tamp it down.

“We didn’t—” Mom’s face flushed.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing you,” she whispered, folding the napkin in half, then in fourths. “I was so ridiculously self-absorbed and the social worker said all the right things. A plan, the gift of a loving family, blah, blah, blah.” But she’d given little thought to the emptiness she’d carry with her once her baby—Blake’s baby—belonged to someone else.

Sirens wailed in the distance and Dad reached for the volume on his radio. He twisted the knob and a woman’s voice came through the speaker. “Unit three, what’s your ETA?”

“This is Unit three, en route to Crooked Creek put-in. ETA … about four minutes.”

The hair on the back of Lauren’s neck stood on end. She glanced at Dad. “Crooked Creek? Isn’t that where Blake and Jeremy launch their trips?”

He silenced her with a sober glance, leaning closer to the radio.

“Unit three, I’m dispatching the swift water rescue team now. Reports of at least one victim trapped downstream.”

“Copy that.”

Lauren’s blood ran cold. Swift water rescue. What if it’s Blake? “Dad, we have to go.”

A muscle in Dad’s jaw tightened. “Sweetie, it could be anybody out there. Kids messing around, a fisherman who waded out too far … there’s no way to know who’s involved.”

She jumped up, her chair clattering to the floor. The storm had moved in and raindrops pelted the kitchen windows. Low lying fog swirled through the trees, obstructing her view of the water. “Who would be out in this?”

“I don’t think the storm was supposed to roll in this quickly,” Mom said. “If you think you’re headed out, let me fix you some coffee.”

“I’m a trooper, Deb, not an EMT. The last thing they need is a bunch of gawkers, interfering with their rescue.”

Lauren turned back toward the table, rubbing her arms vigorously to ward off the ominous feeling that seeped to her core. “I’m worried it’s Blake. And Jeremy. Can’t we just go see?”

Before Dad could respond, a male voice came through the radio again. “Dispatch, this is unit three. Confirming six victims in the water, four alert and responding to bystanders. Two adult male victims downstream, possible head trauma. Can I get an ETA on swift water rescue team?”

“Head trauma?” She gripped the rail on the back of the closest chair, her chest tightening. “Dad, please. If you won’t go to the creek can we at least go to the hospital?”