Marrying the Wrong Man (13 page)

“What is it?” Morgan raised a brow.

“Go see.”

It really didn’t matter what it was, a job possibility was all Morgan needed to feel hopeful again. With any luck, she could get out of here and get on with her plan to build a life Charlotte could be proud of.

On her way to the kitchen, she stopped at the phone and peered at the notepad. Johnson Berger. She didn’t recognize the name. She would have to go through her records of the jobs she’d applied to.

“Did you see it?” Aunt Phyllis asked.

“Yeah, but I’m not sure which job this is.”

“I wasn’t talking about that.” She pointed across the room. “I was talking about
that
.”

In the dim light from above the stove, she saw a plate piled high with heart-shaped sugar cookies. The tops of the pink-iced cookies distorted against the plastic wrap, but still she could see the letters “P,” “M,” “C,” and “D”.

“We decorated one for me, one for you, one for Charlotte, and one for Charlie,” Aunt Phyllis said. “But baby girl refused to make a ‘C’ for Charlie, because, ‘He Daddy.’ How ‘bout that?”

Morgan raised fingers to her lips and sighed. “How sweet.” That was going to make Charlie’s day.

“Definitely sweet, but messy, too.
Woo wee!
That child is like a tornado.” Aunt Phyllis chuckled. “But I love her, like I love you.” She wrapped an arm around Morgan’s shoulders and pulled her into a hug.

God, it felt good to hear those words and to have someone to come home to at the end of a long night. The tears tingled in her eyes again.

“We’re blessed,” Aunt Phyllis said. “Very blessed.”

Those words played in Morgan’s head as she readied for bed, watching her baby girl sleeping in the double bed Aunt Phyllis had pushed against the wall the day they’d arrived. That day, Morgan hadn’t
felt
blessed, and she hadn’t thought Aunt Phyllis
looked
blessed living a life like this.

“But how could I not be blessed, when I have you?” Morgan snuggled up against Charlotte.

To think she ever thought adoption was the only answer. How cold and empty would life be without her baby girl?

She’d be like Aunt Phyllis—before they’d come to town.

The sadness returned. Whoever Johnson Berger was, he had a potential job for her. In Denver. She didn’t know anyone in Denver, and Colorado was a long way from Pennsylvania. Wasn’t that what she wanted?

She didn’t know anymore.

Morgan reached out to stroke her daughter’s hair. “As long as I have you, I’ll be fine.” But she wondered if Aunt Phyllis and Charlie thought the same thing when they looked at Charlotte.

The next day, Morgan and Charlotte enjoyed a couple plain sugar cookies while they sat on the front porch glider. The special, frosted ones were waiting to be eaten if and when Charlie showed up.

Morgan glanced at her watch. With the time difference, it was still too early to call Denver, but it was almost time to feed the chickens that were gathering at Charlotte’s feet in search of crumbs.

The chickens scattered when a shiny car rustled the gravel drive.

Mark.
She frowned, but covered it with another bite. She would rather see Charlie.

“Hey,” she said as he emerged from the car.

“Hey.” He smiled brightly at Charlotte. “Hey, kiddo.”

Charlotte tried to stand, and the glider shuddered. Morgan reached behind her and swung the little one up on her hip before she took a tumble. “This is a surprise.”

“Ladies’ bible study. Once again, I have a couple hours to kill.”

With me
. Which seemed more and more curious after Charlie pointed it out. How did Mark kill time before she’d come to town?

“We were about to officially feed the chickens.” Morgan brushed cookie crumbs off Charlotte’s shirt. “You’re welcome to join us.”

Mark agreed, but he looked like he might be having second thoughts as he picked a careful path through the high grass in the backyard. “You had a dramatic evening last night.”

She hid a shocked expression behind Charlotte’s head. He had no idea how dramatic. Her face heated on thoughts of Charlie. “You think? I thought it was pretty routine.”

“Well, somebody or something was always pulling you away from our table and leaving us with Corbin. Not that I minded.”

Was he being possessive? She hoped not. She needed a friend more than she needed an admirer.

After slipping into the shed and grabbing a bucket of feed, she settled Charlotte onto the rusted tractor. “We’re friends, right?”

He nodded as he leaned against a rickety wood fence, but the minute a chicken skirted his feet, he straightened. “Of course we are.”

“Nothing more, right?”

He laughed, but the laugh caught in his throat as he sidestepped more chickens. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, because Charlie thought I was after you or you were after me. I’m just making sure neither one of us was or is after the other.”

Mark looked at Charlotte, who was cackling as she made it rain chicken feed. “No offense, but you’re not my type.”

“Twenty-five pounds, a good haircut, and a Chanel suit ago I was everyone’s type.” She redirected Charlotte’s hand to keep the feed away from Mark.

“I think you look great. I just think guys look better.”

Her brows lifted. Mark was gay? She’d been minutes away from marrying into the Mitchell family, and she’d never had a clue. She wondered if any of them had. “Seriously?”

He nodded. “You know, maybe I should wait on the porch?” He backed away from the tractor, lifting and shaking his feet to scare chickens as he went.

Typical Mitchell. She laughed.

Once the chickens were fed and Charlotte was cleaned and busy with Aunt Phyllis inside, Morgan walked Mark to his car.

“So, you’re gay,” she said. “Is this common knowledge, and I’m just slow, or is it a secret?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s common knowledge, but it’s not exactly a secret either. My mother knows. A few years after high school, I said, ‘I’m gay.’ And she said, ‘I know.’” He laughed. “But we never really talked about it again.”

Huh.
Morgan didn’t know what to think about Margaret’s reaction. “Does she accept and support you?”

He shrugged. “In her own way, yes. Honestly, I think she’s just happy I won’t be dragged away from her by some woman like Justin and Will have been. She’s got this thing about being alone.”

“What happens when you find someone?”

“I don’t know. In an ideal world, he’d like being around her as much as I do. That’s probably a tall order. I guess I’m going to find out soon. Corbin and I are going to the movies and dinner in Rileyville on Sunday.”

Morgan’s jaw dropped. Corbin was gay, too? Quirky, yes, but gay? “So that’s who’s bringing you into the bistro.”

“Guilty. It’s not easy for a semi-closeted gay man to find someone in a small town. And when he does, he doesn’t want to lose him.”

She grinned. “And
that’s
why you’re so concerned about the possibility of the bistro closing.” He nodded, and she laughed. “Well, I think you two will make a great couple. Honest to God, I can’t think of two guys I like more.” Not including Charlie of course.

He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Thank you.”

Later, as she watched him drive away, satisfaction bubbled in her chest. He wasn’t after her. Her laughter carried on the breeze. Better yet, she had a friend, a good friend, who trusted her with something pretty big.

It’d been a long time since anyone trusted her like that.

“Morgan, Mr. Berger is on the phone for you.”

She shot a puzzled look at Aunt Phyllis. Why was he calling again so soon? She hadn’t even had a chance to return his last call.

With a smile on her face, she headed toward the house. Who knew? By the end of the day she could have a good friend
and
a new job.

Her smile faded. Too bad she’d have to lose one to claim the other.

• • •

Charlie stood inside Alice’s old bedroom, surveying the gritty subfloor. Ripping out that matted shag carpet had been a ball-busting feat, but now he could picture something else in here: a bedroom for Charlotte.

He imagined pale yellow walls and a soft blue ceiling. With clouds. He’d buy a crib. Did she still sleep in a crib? He roughed a palm over his mouth. He’d buy new bedding for Alice’s old twin bed, too. That way Charlotte could grow into the space.

Maybe he’d even sleep in here once or twice—just to hear her breathing.

Idiot. She doesn’t live with you.
He shook his head. Maybe not, but he was going to make a place in his life for her just the same. He’d never felt like his father wanted him. He was going to make damn sure Charlotte never doubted how much he loved her.

“My goodness! It sure is easy to erase someone’s memory.”

Alice.
She was always so melodramatic. “I couldn’t erase you if I tried … and I’ve tried.”

She stood in the doorway with her hands braced on the jamb. Gaudy bracelets dangled from both wrists. “Ha! Well, I should get veto power over whatever you have planned for my new room. A man cave with a big screen and a recliner chair is not a reasonable way to pay me homage.”

Charlie’s gut jumped. Alice would like anything that had to do with Morgan even less. “It’s not your house anymore, remember?” He pushed by her and headed down the hall toward the living room.

“Ohhhkaaaay. What did I say wrong? You’re kind of pissy.”

She’d be pissy too if she were trying to convince herself something major that happened last night didn’t happen. “I’m not pissy. I’m just busy. I need to finish this renovation so I can stop choking on sawdust.”

“Charlie, look at me.” Alice grabbed onto his wrist and tugged.

When he turned, she stared at him with the same worried eyes she’d leveled on him when he’d been drinking.
Damn it!
He couldn’t be spared the speculation even when he was painfully sober.

“I’m fine, Alice.”

“Is this about Morgan?”

His hand fisted as he broke from her grip. “No, this is about Charlotte.” Regret set in the minute he closed his mouth.

“What about Charlotte? Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. Everything is fine. I’m just … I want to turn your old room into a nursery.”

Alice’s eyes bulged. “Why? She doesn’t live with you. She’s not going to live with you.” She shook her head until her crazy curls scattered. “Do not tell me you’re moving them in here.”

God, he wished. He could see Morgan holding a sleeping Charlotte in the living room. He could even see her making macaroni and cheese on his three-thousand-dollar range. His pulse hammered. “You need to calm the hell down.” He walked into the kitchen and yanked a bottle of soda from the fridge.

“Gladly, just tell me they aren’t going to live here, and nothing is going on with you and Morgan.”

He wrenched the cap free, and let the soda barrel down his throat until it landed hard in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t have to tell Alice anything.

Closing the fridge, he walked away from her again. “I have work to do. You can leave unless you plan on picking up a hammer.”

“Oh my God!” She raced past him, blocking the entrance to the hallway. “They’re moving in here. You’re falling for her again.”

He spun on her. “They are
not
moving in here. I just want my daughter to have a place to stay if she needs it. I want her to feel wanted.” He growled. “I’m trying to be a good dad—something we never had. You of all people should be happy about it.”

Her shoulders sagged. “You’re right. I want you to be a good dad. I just don’t want you to get hurt again.” She patted his chest. “Love your little girl, but protect your heart, Charlie. No matter what. Morgan is a runner. She’s not going to stay in Harmony Falls, and who can blame her, right? Not us. We know how hard it is to be the outcast.”

Hell, he was still trying to overcome that. “I get it, Alice. Now, will you please move?”

She stepped aside, and he walked down the hall only to stop when she called out to him.

Just once he’d like to have the last word. “What?”

“She’s a Parrish, too, remember. She might be down and out now, but she won’t always be. And even if she could get past all the gossip around here, I can’t imagine her ever being happy living a simple life like this.”

His jaw clenched. “With a simple man, like me.”

“Charlie, that’s not what … ”

“That’s exactly what you meant.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You say you want me sober, but you sure as hell are aggravating me enough to make me want a drink.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s true. And you know what else is? You haven’t asked to see your niece once since she’s been here. I think that sucks. You of all people would get a kick out of seeing her. She looks like you.”

Alice smirked. “Really?”

He nodded. “Really.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to see her.”

“You just don’t want to see Morgan.”

“That makes me sound terrible.” She sighed.

“So don’t be terrible. Go see your niece, and cut her mother some slack.”

Charlie wasn’t holding his breath. It would take an act of God to get those two in the same room together again.

Morgan awoke to the sound of someone getting sick in the bathroom down the hall. Charlotte was sleeping soundly beside her. For a change, it wasn’t her with the virus.

Bonus
. Except, Morgan had to work tonight. A sick Aunt Phyllis couldn’t take care of a little girl.

Pushing the covers away and tip-toeing from the bedroom, Morgan checked on Aunt Phyllis and then helped her back to bed.

“Don’t bother with me.” The clearly miserable woman tried to shoo her away. “I’ve been taking care of myself for fifty years.”

Morgan wrinkled her face. That sounded like such a horrible way to live. “Well, then, you’re long overdue for a break.” She pulled the covers to Aunt Phyllis’s chin. “I’ll check on you in a little bit.”

A few hours later, Charlotte was up, fed, and bathed, and Morgan needed to call Charlie. Her heart jumped at the thought of asking for the night off from work. Probably a residual reflex from all the times she’d called off in Connecticut. Whatever it was, she was going to have to get past it. This was only a trial run, anyway.