Finding The Way Back To Love (Lakeside Porches 3) (28 page)

“We play together,” Peter agreed.

Johnson puffed out his chest and jabbed a finger in Peter’s direction. “Well, maybe I don’t want to play on a team with him.”

Peter stiffened. Sam glanced left and right, bounced the ball once, then held it still.

Peter shifted on his feet. “Let me make it easy for you and the team,” he said, his voice quiet. “I quit.”

Tony reached out, but Peter brushed past him into the locker room, where he threw on his jacket, grabbed his clothes in one hand and his duffle in the other, and exited into the hallway.

Tony and Sam intercepted him at the double doors to the parking lot. “I need you on the team, Shaughnessy,” Tony said, his voice tight.

“Well, thanks, but the team doesn’t want me on the team.”

Sam gave him a warning. “Peter, if you leave now, you’re screwing me, Tony, Werner, the Sneaks, and the league. You sure that’s what you want to do, partner?”

“I screwed up. I’m done trying to fix it. The team’s better off without me.”

“Peter!” Tony yelled, but their star player pushed through the door and disappeared into the dark.

Back in his parking space behind 14 Lakeside Terrace, Peter turned off the engine and placed his hands on the steering wheel. One glance at the crucifix dangling from the rear view mirror told him he’d made his biggest mistake yet as a newcomer to Tompkins Falls. Tony was right. He’d screwed them all, just because that punk-drunk Johnson had gotten to him.

He dragged his things into the apartment, stuffed the duffle into the closet, and headed to the shower. Clean and dressed, his next priority was to square things with Bree. Maybe they could talk over a good meal. They had time to hash things out before he had to leave for work. “Bree,” he called, “want to go out for supper?”

His voice echoed. He spied a note on the counter. “Heading back to Syracuse,” he read aloud.

He walked to Bree’s bedroom. He wanted her here. But there was no duffle bag, no iPod, no hoodie on the bed. Just the furniture from his old room and the bed from Gwen’s attic, neatly made.

Bree had left the blinds open to the view of the lake.

Peter stood at the window, his gaze on Gwen’s house, with its cheerful lights burning.

He closed the blinds.

The next morning, in the half-light after his shift, Peter laced up his running shoes, pulled on a weatherproof anorak and set out on the willow path. The lakeshore was deserted—not even a duck looking for a handout. He’d short-changed his warm-up, so it was not a surprise when a cramp stopped him after a mile and a half.

He bent over and kneaded his calf, then limped until the cramp eased. With his hands in the kangaroo pocket of the anorak, he walked the remaining distance. Although he searched his memory going back to high school, he couldn’t think of a time he had felt so lonely.
And it’s my own fault
.

He’d driven Bree away. He’d quit the team over a stupid comment by a stupid teammate. And before all that, he’d completely dismissed Gwen from his life, without even trying to understand why she’d kept her alcoholism from him.

At the time, her deception had felt as underhanded and treacherous as Cynthia’s betrayal. He had warred with himself ever since, trying to convince himself he’d overreacted. But even now, he was sure in his heart that he had no business being married to a drunk who would neglect his children and make his life hell. Didn’t that describe any drunk, including Gwen?

He knew Gwen was reckless sometimes—living by herself in that isolated spot, canoeing alone, going out on the lake without checking the weather forecast. But she wasn’t drinking, he was pretty sure of that. Bottom line, he couldn’t rely on her as a wife and mother, could he?

Too risky.

He should be looking for someone who had no problem with alcohol. Someone who wanted a family and a solid marriage. Someone . . . someone like Gwen, only sober.

Too confusing.

A noise drew his attention. He half hoped it was Gwen on her bike, but the sound came from the parking lot, a car door closing.

Joel Cushman stood beside a shiny sedan and did a few stretches before walking onto the willow path. He took a few steps toward Peter and stopped.

“Morning, Joel,” Peter greeted him.

Joel held up his hand in a friendly greeting. “Not the best weather for a morning run,” he commented. He had his collar up, but, like Peter, his head was bare to the elements.

“I often run after my shift. What brings you here?”

Joel stuffed his hands in his pockets and waited for Peter to reach him. “Walk with you a minute?” Joel asked.

“Sure.” Peter shrugged and moved to one side of the path. Joel fell into step next to him, and Peter adjusted to Joel’s pace.

“I just talked with Tony after the Early Risers meeting,” Joel told him. “He’s really upset about you quitting the team. He and Sam are both concerned about you. I am, too, after that shouting match you had with Bree yesterday afternoon.”

Peter flinched but made no comment.

“I took a chance you might be running this morning.”

“And as you can see I’m walking instead,” Peter said with a hollow laugh. “I was in too much of a hurry to do a proper warm-up, got a cramp before I made it to the end.”

Joel snorted. “Anytime I get impulsive like that, it bites me. It didn’t used to matter, but when I turned thirty, shortcuts that used to work didn’t work anymore.”

“Tell me about your accident,” Peter said. “I heard you were in a coma for a while.”

“Yeah, it was bad. Tony and I took a drive in his truck one afternoon, when the weather was supposed to be above freezing all day. I wanted to check out Cady’s Point with Manda’s business plan in mind. Tony is a good friend who’s also a good sounding board for things like that. On our way home, we had just turned onto the highway when our truck hit black ice. We spun around a couple of times before sliding off the road. Came to rest in a stand of pines. The point of impact was where I sat. Fractured my skull, reinjured my right leg, and assorted other damage. If not for Tony, I’d be dead.”

“What did he do?”

“Got on the phone and didn’t quit until the rescue squad got me out of there and a helicopter took me to Rochester to the trauma center. I couldn’t ask for a better friend.”

“Were you married to Manda then?”

“Not yet. I was about to propose to her. It happened a couple weeks before Christmas. Manda was coming up on nine months sober then; she wouldn’t mind my telling you that. Normally, someone that new in sobriety doesn’t get too involved romantically, but the two of us knew we were soul mates and I didn’t want to wait any longer to ask her to marry me.”

“Your injury must have been a rough time for her.”

“It was. But the program—AA, I mean—rallied around her. People found her a place to stay near the hospital, made sure she ate meals and had someone to talk to. She found meetings at the hospital and went every day. Gwen drove up every day the first week and every weekend after that, took Manda to stay with her on the lake when Manda needed a break. Manda never felt like drinking, but it was hell not knowing if I’d recover.” He paused for a breath.

“My Uncle Justin was my only living relative, and he was unreachable in the beginning, so Manda was carrying the whole responsibility.” He added with a smile, “By some fluke, the hospital thought she was already my fiancée. Otherwise she would have been turned away, like everyone else, and not allowed to see me. No one takes credit for that misinformation, but I have my suspicions.”

“You think Tony did it?”

“He’ll never admit it. Manda and I are just grateful for it, even though it placed a heavy burden on Manda.” He stopped walking and turned to face Peter. “The program helped her through it. We got engaged while I was still in the hospital. Then I did six months of grueling physical therapy with her at my side. And it paid off. We were married in the rose garden at the Manse last summer, and I was able to stand through the ceremony.”

“Happy ending, but I’m sorry you had to go through all that, both of you.”

“Life happens. You just deal with it.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I need to turn back now. I’m glad I caught you.”

“Geez, you’re soaked.”

“All for a good cause,” he said and walked slowly back the way they’d come.

Peter watched him for a minute, noticed how he favored his right leg.
Manda got through all that and didn’t drink?
He couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“Are you mad at me?” Manda squinted at Gwen. They walked along the lakeshore with their hands in their pockets. A chilly wind blew from the southwest and hurled waves across the granite breakwater at the entrance to the marina.

“No, sweetie, just puzzled about why you didn’t ever talk to me about Bree being at meetings.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not looking for an apology, honest. I just feel very bad that you didn’t think I could be helpful to you or to Bree.” She waited, hoping Manda would come forward with her thoughts.

When the silence stretched on, Gwen screwed up her courage and said, “Lately quite a few of my friends have kept things from me and discussed my life behind my back. They say they’ve been concerned, but until Peter and I broke up, no one spoke to me directly. Well, except Deirdre. And Joel, come to think of it.”

“When did he do that?”

“At the chief’s dinner.”

“Oh yeah, you two talked while the rest of us danced.”

“Were you concerned that long ago?”

“Hell, yes. Peter made those bizarre statements about forbidding Bree to drink. I didn’t see that working out well.”

I wish my vision had been that clear
. Gwen pulled her collar closer around her neck and struggled to fasten an awkward, little button. “Tell me why?”

“Obviously, you and Peter lived on two different planets where alcoholism was concerned. Recovery is central to your life. But his dad’s untreated alcoholism warped his childhood.”

Gwen met her gaze and gave a sheepish smile. “It was that clear, huh?” She kicked a stone out of her way. It skipped across the soggy brown grass and rolled down the slope toward the water.

“Think you’ll get back together?”

“No.” Gwen laughed dryly. “Like you said, it didn’t end well the first time.”

“I am so, so relieved to hear you say that. But I know you want to find the right man and start a family.”

“Think I’m capable of finding the right man?” Gwen asked.

“Of course, if you want to. I’m not sure you really want to.” Gwen raised her eyebrows in surprise, and Manda said, “Remember when I first got sober I was off men for life? It was hard for Joel to break through.”

“I remember. And, to be honest, in my heart, I really believed Peter was the one, and I still love him.” She kicked at another stone on the path, but it did not budge out of her way. “Ouch. I really, really need to move on. I don’t know where to look next.”

“Joel probably knows someone,” Manda ventured.

“Joel probably knows better than me the kind of man I should be dating.”

“Are you being sarcastic?” Manda asked.

“I am serious. I think it’s time I let my friends help me find out what’s best for me.”

“And find out who’s right for you.”

Indian Summer played a visit to the Finger Lakes the following week. Temperatures rose into the low seventies, and abundant sunshine made it feel like eighty. Gwen’s phone rang at two o’clock on Tuesday. She listened with a straight face and offered sympathy when her remaining client canceled.

Yippee!
Free to play outdoors, and she knew exactly whom she wanted to play with. She pressed Gianessa’s number on her new phone and crossed her fingers.

“Hey, Gwen.” Gianessa laughed. “Why aren’t you out in the sunshine?”

“That’s where I’m headed. Are you and the twins free? Want to stroll in the park?”

“We are free and loving the sunshine on our new little deck. Come on over. We have heaters set up, but they’re not even turned on.”

“I’m on my way. Need anything? Sunscreen? Toys? Iced tea?”

“I could kill for an iced Americano from Lynnie’s.”

“Coming up.”

“And one of her caramel brownies.”

Gwen chuckled. “Just one?”

“Just one. The twins have their bottles, and Justin is being a martyr, fasting from chocolate until Christmas.” She laughed from her belly. “I have no idea why. He’s lean and fit and healthy as a horse.” She added in a cooing voice, “Babies, Auntie Gwen is coming to play with us.”

Gwen thought she heard a rattle in the background.
Nonsense. They’re too young for rattles
. Still, her heart leapt. “I can’t wait to see Jack and Jill and how they’ve grown.”

“Better hurry,” Gianessa said, “they could grow another inch before you get here.” She broke the connection.

Lynnie had recovered from the lunchtime rush when Gwen breezed through the door of the Chestnut Lake Café.

“What can I get for you, Gwen?”

“How about half of a turkey panini with provolone and tomato and spinach?”

“Mustard and mayo?”

“Just mustard. And I’ll need one large iced Americano, one large unsweetened iced tea, and two of your magnificent caramel brownies.”

Lynnie narrowed her eyes. “I can’t even guess who you’re meeting.”

“I’m hanging out on Justin and Gianessa’s new deck with the babies.”

Lynnie’s face softened. “Aw.”

“Yeah.” Gwen’s voice continued the glissando of Lynnie’s sigh. “It’s what life is all about.”

Lynnie pointed. “It’s good practice for your own little ones.”

Gwen caught her breath, and her cheeks grew warm.
Can I handle motherhood? I can’t even handle a relationship.

Lynnie hummed as she assembled the panini. While it grilled in the press, she started the espresso, filled a to-go glass with iced tea, and selected the two most decadent brownies from the pastry case. Finally, she filled a tall to-go glass with ice and poured in the thick, fragrant espresso, added cold spring water and gave it a shake. “Chips?”