California Dreaming: Four Contemporary Romances (7 page)

Why don’t you stay here and go out with John? It’s hard to find a nice man, particularly at your age. A husband would make your life so much easier.

Yeah, right.

That was her mother’s drum song. A woman needed a man to be complete. It didn’t matter how good or bad the man was, it only mattered that he married you. She’d given up arguing with her mother years ago. In spite of all the horrible things her father had done, her mother had hung onto her beliefs that a man was an answer to all of life’s problems. Of course,
she
hadn’t remarried after her father’s suicide, but she never stopped pushing her daughter toward the altar.

Annie wasn’t following that path.
Her father and her ex were all the proof she needed that men couldn’t be trusted.

Still, something about John felt different. She pictured his strongly etched face, blue eyes, and easy smile. His guileless eyes had never left her face instead of darting everywhere like Fred’s did when she was talking with him. Maybe she could trust him. It would be nice to have someone else to lean on once in a while.

She thrust her trowel into the moist dirt, trying to free stubborn roots as she tugged while she imagined strong masculine arms wrapped around her. Suddenly, the weed gave way and she fell flat on her butt, dirt from the roots showering her body.

She laughed out loud. That’s what she got for fantasizing about a man. She flung the weed into the pile. Better keep her mind on reality.

But her mind didn’t want to stay in the real world. She replayed their conversation at the restaurant while she tackled a new patch of weeds, sobered as she remembered the sorrow in his eyes when he talked about his wife. What would it be like to have someone you love die of cancer? She wished she could do something to erase the pain she saw.
Impossible.
She’d never been able to ease her mother’s pain … and no one had ever been able to fill the empty hole that had been inside of Annie as long as she could remember.

Whenever her father came home in one of his moods, she’d huddle in her room, door locked, chair under the knob while the storm of her parents’ marriage raged in the kitchen. In the morning, after the front door slammed behind her father, she would pick up broken dishes, brew the coffee, and fetch ice and bandages for her mother’s bruises.

Aching inside, she’d never let anyone see her feelings and never told anyone about her father’s rages. Friends didn’t come over. She couldn’t let them see how she lived. Her mother cried a lot and Annie learned to take care of herself.

Enough memories.

She stood, brushed herself off and admired her handiwork. Pansy petals fluttered in the soft breeze and daffodils patrolled her walkway. Smiling, she put her tools back in the tote and headed inside.

David would be home from soccer practice soon and he’d be ravenous. Maybe if she fed him his favorite dinner, he’d change his mind about moving.
Fat chance.
He’d been giving her one word answers since he returned from Chris’s the night before.

She was heating up homemade chili when she heard the door slam.

“Hi,” she called out.

David grunted and stomped downstairs. A few seconds later, she heard the shower start. She had dinner on the table by the time he appeared. “Chili, your favorite.”

“Good.” He sat down and waited for her to sit before he started eating.

“How was soccer?”

He chewed and swallowed. “Okay,” he mumbled and immediately stuffed another spoonful of food into his mouth.

Annie took a tiny bite of her own meal. “Any new tournaments coming up?”

He shook his head and continued eating.

She was running out of questions. “When’s your next practice?”

“Tuesday,” he said between mouthfuls.

She gave up.

“I’m going over Larry’s,” he said when he finished. He dropped his fork in the dishwasher and slid his plate into the rack.

“Be back — ”

“Mom, I’m almost sixteen. I got it. Be back at ten. Yeah, my homework’s done. I can take care of myself.” A few minutes later the front door slammed again.

She should have made an issue of his attitude but didn’t want an argument. Maybe he’d work out his anger with his friends.

He was barely out the door when the phone rang. She eyed it suspiciously, in no mood to talk to Fred. On the fourth ring, she picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Is this Annie?” a male voice asked.

“Yes. Who is this?” She really should get caller ID.

“John Johnson, the bookstore owner.”

A thrill went through her body and she smiled. “I remember who you are, but I don’t remember ordering any books.”

He chuckled. “This isn’t about the store. I was riding my horse today and I wondered if you rode.”

“A long time ago — when I was twelve or thirteen — but not since.”

“Would you like to try it again?”

She thought back to her few years of riding, the freedom and power of controlling a thousand-pound animal with her hands and a few bits of leather. “I think about it once in a while, but lessons are expensive.”

“I have a deal for you. The Wiggins, who own the barn where my horse is stabled, have a mare they need exercised. Come with me some day and I’ll show you a few pointers. It’s like riding a bike. You’ll pick it up again in no time.”

“That would be nice, John, but … ”

“I know, you’re moving. If you like riding, it will give you something to do after you move. I hear they have horses even in New Jersey.”

“I believe you’re right. But I think they’re thoroughbreds and I don’t see horse racing in my future.” She laughed at the image.

“I think you’d make a perfect jockey — especially in those bright colored silks.” He paused a moment, as if he’d realized he might be crossing a line. “Seriously, I’d really like some companionship on my rides. No strings attached. Can you find a few hours?”

Her heart screamed,
Yes!
But she said, “Let me think about it.”

“Fair enough. I’ll check in during the week. Have a good evening.”

She thought about his offer while she cleaned up the kitchen, imagining them riding into the sunset like Roy Rogers and Dale Evans singing “Happy Trails.” She laughed out loud at the crazy image. She’d loved Roy and Dale when she was ten years old, but it was a fantasy. No one could have a life that romantic.

Could they?

After she finished the dishes, she called Elizabeth. Her friend answered on the first ring.

“David’s mad at me,” Annie announced.

“Did you really expect him to jump up and down for joy when you told him you’re taking him away from his friends?”

Annie suddenly realized that she’d expected him to do just that. “I suppose I was unrealistic. He was so easy when he was younger. Everything was a big adventure. Now I suppose waking up in the morning and finding out how your body changed during the night is the big adventure.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Give him time. It’s a lot to adjust to. How are you doing? Seen any more of the bookstore owner?”

“He called me about an hour ago.”

“Wow. He’s interested. What did he say?”

Annie told her about the invitation.

“You’re going, of course,” Elizabeth said.

“It’s not fair to encourage him. Not when I’m going away. And … the truth is … I’m scared.”

“Why?”

“You’ve got to admit, the men in my life haven’t been very nice. And … I’m never sure what they want — are they going to be like my dad who made my mother stay home and serve his every need?”

“Most men don’t expect that these days.”

She chuckled. “No, they expect more. I think we women messed up when we said we could do it all. Men believed us!”

Elizabeth laughed. “You’ve got that right. But you’ve got a lot going for you. You’re pretty and smart. A good mother … ”

“Stop it,” Annie said lightly. Her friend was the best — always boosting her spirits. “I don’t feel like a good mother at the moment.” She told Elizabeth what had happened during dinner. “He’s barely talking to me and he’s borderline rude. What am I going to do?”

“Wait. There’s not much more you can do right now. You’re a fierce mama bear when it comes to your son. Right now he needs to go climb his own tree. He’ll come down when he’s ready.”

“I hope you’re right. How are things with Bobby?”

“The same. He wants to get married and I don’t. He tried to have a serious discussion about it at George’s last night.”

Annie laughed. “George’s? That restaurant is so loud you can barely discuss the weather, much less getting married!”

“He tried, but he gave up.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Wait. He’ll get tired of asking and we can go on like we were before.”

“Are you sure that’s what he’ll do?”

“Totally. We love each other. That’s all that matters. We don’t need a formal ceremony to seal the deal.”

Annie was thoughtful when she hung up the phone. She hoped Elizabeth was right.

David returned by curfew, and even spent a few minutes chatting with her about soccer practice. She felt herself relax. Maybe Elizabeth was right about that, too. He just needed to be on his own for a little while.

John stared at his reflection in the mirror and brushed back his hair. Maybe it was time to get a haircut. The cuffs on his denim shirt were getting frayed, too. Mentally, John went through his closet. His other shirts weren’t much better. He was going to need a serious upgrade to go courting. He smiled at the old-fashioned phrase his mother had been fond of using.

He shook off his memories, popped a slice of sourdough bread in the toaster and grabbed a cup of black coffee. Would Annie agree to a ride? If she did, would he feel the same easy companionship that he had with Jessica?
I hope so.

The toast popped and he slathered it with butter and jam. Standing at the counter, he ate his breakfast and remembered rides with Jessica along the banks of the Bitterroot River. It had been one of their favorite outings before she’d gotten sick five years ago. They often rode in silence to encourage birds and small animals that lived near the water to show themselves. Losing her had left a hole in his life.

I miss you, Jessica, but it’s time to fill that hole.

Glancing at his watch, John put the empty plate in the sink, poured the rest of his coffee in his travel mug, and went out the back door to his truck, ignoring the overgrown lawn on his way. He needed to find somewhere of his own to live — or buy a goat. He’d call a realtor today.

“Hi, boss,” Sunshine called out from behind the register when he walked into the store fifteen minutes later. “Glad to see you finally made it.”

“Staff meeting in a half hour,” he snapped and strode to the stairs leading up to his office. He didn’t want to have a long conversation with his store manager. She was too good at figuring out what he was thinking.

A stack of mail sat on his desk. He recognized his handwriting on the top envelope and tossed it in a corner with annoyance — probably another rejection of his novel. He’d been really hopeful this time — the agent had taken a long time to get back to him.

John concentrated on his paperwork, thrusting all thoughts of novels, women, and goats from his head until he heard the clomp of Sunshine’s boots on the stairs.

“I thought you’d want the next week’s schedule before the meeting. Jamie has exams next week and she’s asked for time off. We’ll need to find someone to cover.”

He pawed through his papers and picked up the phone. “Thanks.” He stared at the receiver, not remembering why he’d picked it up.

Sunshine perched on a stool and tossed her gray braid over her shoulder. “So, are you going to ask her out?”

He flicked a glance at her that should have telegraphed,
It’s none of your damn business.

She didn’t get the message. “Well?”

He sighed. “I already have.”

“And?”

“She’ll get back to me.”

“Give me a break. That’s polite-woman speak for ‘no.’ You need to call her again.”

“Not everyone is as pushy as you are.” He looked at his watch. “Why don’t you get everyone together for the meeting?”

“Yes, boss.” She paused. “But I still think you should call her again.”

He looked at the phone that was still in his hand. Maybe he should.

• • •

During the commute to work that morning, Annie spotted signs of spring around her. The towering redwoods sported new growth while Scotch broom announced the change of seasons with bright yellow flowers. Lexington Reservoir glinted with the morning sun as scull boats glided effortlessly across its waters.

She divested herself of her computer bag and raincoat when she reached her office. Time to tackle Number 3 on her list — find out the job details from Randy.

His office door was closed. She took a deep breath and rapped.

“Come in.”

She opened the door and gazed at the paper-strewn mess. Sitting down wasn’t an option. “Can you tell me about the job in New Jersey?”

Randy looked up from his computer. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses. I’d really hate for the company to lose you.” He dug through his papers. “It’s a project management job for a new release — make sure the software is compliant with Common Criteria — you know, government stuff.” He handed her the paper and went back to his screen.

She scanned the job posting.

He clicked a few keys and looked up. “Sorry, Annie, I really need to get this presentation out. Anything else?”

“Do you know the reporting manager?” She looked back down at the papers. “Jim Borzetti? Have you heard anything about him? Will the company pay for relocation?”

Randy gestured at the paper in her hand. “That’s all I know about the job. Contact the manager who posted the job and ask him. I’ll be happy to give you a good reference. He might want to see you for an interview. Those East Coast managers are big on ‘face time.’ Can you handle that?”

“I suppose.” Damn! She hadn’t been on an interview in years. What if she flubbed it?

He rubbed his temples. “I know change is tough. Until the economy turns around, it’s going to be like this for a while. Be glad you have a shot at a job.” He turned back to his screen.