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Authors: Sharla Lovelace

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary, #General, #Romance

Stay With Me (20 page)

BOOK: Stay With Me
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“I will,” she said, eyes sparkling. She didn’t need me there anymore. “See you over there. Thanks for coming with me.”

“No problem,” I said, lying out of my ass.

I wasn’t needed, and that was good. No fanfare, no hugging, no more thank-yous, no up-close-and-personal looks. It wasn’t even mid-morning and already I felt like I’d run a marathon. In combat boots. In the sand.

As I reached the bottom of the steps, my cell rang. When I saw the name, I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hey, you,” I said.

“Hey, yourself,” Duncan said. His smooth, drama-free, history-free voice soothed my raw nerves, making all the little edges lay back down. “You okay? You sound stressed.”

I took my first deep breath of the last hour. “Yeah, it’s just been a day already.” I chuckled. “Headed to work.”

“Me too,” he said. “In the sense that I’m already here and just haven’t done anything yet.”

I smiled. “We should play hooky today.”

“Oh, I wish,” Duncan said. “I’ve got a full schedule and a surgery consult at three.”

“Such popularity,” I said.

“But I’m all free tonight,” he said. “Feel like going out?”

Yes. A date. Exactly what I needed. My still shaking hands agreed. Damn, this was crazy.

“Absolutely,” I said. “What’s the dress code this time?”

He laughed and the sound warmed me from the inside out. “Well, I heard about the new giant aquarium in Katyville,” he said.

The giant aquarium. Wow, be still my heart. But then again, he was a veterinarian. There had to be a bit of a nerd factor.

“Um, sure,” I said. “Will you feed me afterward? Watching all that seafood swim around will probably make me hungry.”

“Of course,” he said, sounding amused. “Maybe the Grille? It’s Friday, there might be a band.”

“Sounds good,” I said.

“So I’ll be wearing a tux,” he said.

“Well, duh, what else would you wear to go see stingrays?” I said.

He laughed again. “See you at—six?”

“Six works,” I said, giving him my address.

Guess I’d just thrown out that intimacy card, too. Well, I was pretty sure he wasn’t a serial killer, since he’d had the perfect opportunity and decided to make out in front of a couple of farm animals instead.

I made my way through the barn, not really seeing anything, till I could land in my office. I skipped my desk chair and went straight to the couch, curling my legs under me.

It was quiet, thank God. Dad was upstairs, I could hear his TV, but I didn’t speak up yet. I needed a few minutes to get my nerves back together.

Ian cried. I hugged my arms around myself and closed my eyes as that image filled my brain. In all the years I’d been attached to Ian’s hip, I’d never seen him cry.

And all it took was my daughter. I felt the burn in my gut again as that thought washed over me. I’d always known he loved Abby, but he’d never fully adopted the parent role. He did when it was the two of them, but when I was present he always deferred to me. And always went home. He was Uncle Ian.

The raw emotion that I saw hit him upon seeing her again—a grown woman—had knocked the wind clean out of me. He hadn’t had a chance to hide it, and neither did I. Weren’t we just a pair.

“Oh, God, a pair of what?” I muttered, covering my face.

I got up, repaired my eyes a little in an old porcelain shaving mirror that hung on my wall, and dropped into my chair. Where I saw a Post-it note in my dad’s scrawl, reminding me that Emery Slade, the lady from Antique Nation, would be there at noon.

“Glorious.”

My cell buzzed with a text.
LOOKING FORWARD TO TONIGHT, BEAUTIFUL.
From Duncan.

My skin tingled a little. We were going to look at fish, and I couldn’t say that was a whoo-hoo kind of moment, but something in the tone of his text made me hear his voice saying the words. Calling me beautiful, making me feel special.
You’re a beautiful mess.
Yes, keep thinking about that.

I spied another Post-it and hit a button on my desk phone, springing it to life.

A couple of rings, and then, “Water and Sewer?”

Was she asking me? The perky female voice on the other end lilted the words at the end like it was a question.

“Terrence Hebert, please,” I said, deliberately
not
making it a question.

“Sure,” the woman said. “Can I tell him who’s calling?”

I sighed, suddenly feeling too worn-out for this conversation. If I told her my name, the odds were pretty much assured that he would not be there, or he’d be busy, or would have suddenly remembered a meeting or that he forgot to pack his kid a lunch.

It was summer, school was out, and how many meetings could you really have in Water and Sewer?

I opened my mouth, and out fell, “Emery Slade.”

“One moment.”

Why the hell not.

Chapter Thirteen

 

 

“Hello, how can I help you?” came Terrence’s oh-so-helpful professional tone over the line.

I shook my head. “Yes, I’m curious about garbage pickup in town,” I said. “I work at the bank on Jackson Avenue, just behind the stores on Main? And the stench from their Dumpsters has gotten horrible lately.”

There was a tiny pause. “Okay, ma’am, let me make a note of that.”

“Isn’t there some sort of ordinance or something that requires regular pickups?” I asked. “Our customers are complaining about the flies.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, and I could hear the greasy smile. “I assure you, they are all picked up regularly. Perhaps one of them had an event, and—”

“Well, perhaps you could send an extra crew through there to take care of it,” I said. “My boss is about to start making other phone calls if it isn’t resolved right away.”

Another pause, where I imagined Terrence to be grinding his teeth. “I’ll see what I can do, ma’am,” he said. “And Ms. Slade, how did you get my name to ask for me directly?”

“Looked it up online, of course,” I said. “Thank you.”

I hung up and bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing. Let’s see if Ms. Emery Slade was of any use after all.

I caught movement in the mirror just outside my office, a flash of blonde, just before Abby graced my door.

“Hey, Mama,” she said, plopping herself on my couch. She hugged herself, a happy smile lighting up her blue eyes.

“Have a good visit?” I asked, focusing on keeping a neutral expression.

“The best,” she said. “I’m so glad I got to see him again.”

Ping, ping, snap.
The sounds of my heart strings.

“I’m glad, too.”

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Sure, why?” I asked.

She gave me a snarky look. “Because you weren’t before.”

“Oh.” I waved a hand to show nonchalance. “That was just the emotion of the moment, baby.”

“He said I’m one of only two women who ever made him cry,” Abby said.

Fist in the gut.
“He always loved you, boo,” I said. “No question of that.”

“I asked him who the other one was,” she said, her face taking on that
I’m the parent now
expression.

“Wasn’t that nosy of you?”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Want to know what he said?”

Invisible bands twisted around my chest. “Not particularly.”

“He said, ‘She just left.’”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Hmm. Well, I never saw it.”

“You did love him, didn’t you?”

A nervous laugh took the rest of my breath, and I rested my elbows on my desk.

“It was complicated,” I said simply.

Which was only partially true. It was complicated
now
. Then, it had been as easy and natural as breathing.

“And the veterinarian?” she asked, mercifully changing the subject.

“Is taking me out tonight,” I said with a smile.

“Oooh, where to?”

I left the smile on my face, hoping it looked hopeful. “The new aquarium in Katyville.” Abby pulled a face and I pointed. “Yeah, that was kinda my reaction too.”

“Maybe he’ll surprise you,” she said.

“Let’s go with that,” I said, both of us snickering.

“Do I hear an Abbidibug?” came my dad’s voice from above.

“I’m coming, Poppy!” Abby yelled, getting to her feet.

“Nah, I’m coming down,” he said. “I need to stretch a little anyway.”

We met him at the foot of the stairs, which ran right smack into the horse stall, where Abby climbed up to sit on the rail. That was her spot, where she used to spend hours pretending our barn was still a functional barn, petting imaginary horses and feeding her stuffed animals.

“Hey, Poppy,” she said, spreading her arms wide.

Even grown, she was still small, still able to hug at face level while sitting up on a railing. She’d gotten the petite gene from her dad, not me. Not that I was a thundering Amazon, but I was just normal-sized. I made sure the guys I went out with were taller, like Duncan.
And Ian—I was eye level with his mouth.

Stop.

Anyway, Abby’s dad had been slim and artistically petite for a man. It wasn’t his body that had sucked me in. It had been his soulful dreamy blue eyes under beautiful dark hair. Abby had his eyes, too.

“Hey there, Abbidibug,” Dad said, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing till she giggled and poked him in the side. “Careful now,” he said with a wink. “Old bones and all that.”

“Yeah, you’re old, like I’m fat,” she said.

“I was thinking you were looking a little pudgy,” he said, pinching her cheek.

“Ha ha,” she said, swatting at his hand. “You’re all dressed up today, even for you.”

He was. His slacks and polo shirt had been replaced with suit pants and a blue dress shirt. Completely logical to work in a dusty old barn.

“Well, we have company today,” he said, darting a glance at me and my attire. “Your mom tell you?”

“No, I haven’t had a chance,” I said.

“We went visiting,” Abby said.


You
went visiting,” I corrected. Lord, don’t throw me under that bus.

“Oh, whatever, you went for half of it,” she said, then looked back at Dad. “I wanted to go see Uncle Ian.”

I could feel the weight of his disapproval swinging through the air like a wrecking ball.

“Uncle—” he began, chewing on the name before he checked himself for her. “You realize Ian McMasters isn’t actually your uncle, right?”

Abby laughed. “Yes, Poppy, I’m aware of that. That’s just what I used to call him.”

Dad nodded and turned into the store. “Yeah, and asked for him for a year after the fool took off,” he muttered under his breath. Then he held up his hands as he turned back around and leaned an elbow on the horse stall. “Not my business.”

I wondered again if he knew more than he was letting on, but he certainly didn’t act like it.

“Just visiting, Dad,” I said. “We’re all adults now.”

“So, who is this company that’s coming?” Abby asked.

“Emery Slade,” I said. “Oh, by the way, Dad, she was instrumental in getting the trash picked up again, hopefully.”

He gave me a blank look. “Say what?”

“Seems she works at the bank and called about the smell.”

“Huh?” Abby said, looking confused.

I shook my head and laughed. “Nothing. Poppy wants to sell the business to Antique Nation and save me from a lifetime of brutal work that I love so I can go sell dresses at the mall.”

“Here we go,” Dad muttered, rubbing his eyes.

“What the heck?” Abby said, jumping down. “You want to sell the business to the bank?”

Dad closed his eyes and sighed. “No, bug, it has nothing to do with the bank. Antique Nation does auctions, they have a TV show—”

“You’d be on TV?” Abby said, her eyes sparkling at the thought.

“No,
they’d
be on TV,” I said. “We wouldn’t be here anymore.”

“Yes, you could,” Dad said.

“As a picker,” I conceded. “Maybe. On their schedule.”

“You always liked picking,” he said.

“And I still do, on my own time for my own business,” I said.

“You can’t sell, Poppy,” Abby said. “What will I have one day? What will my kids have?”

We both stared at her. “Since when have you ever been interested?” I said.

She’d played there as a child and been with me on many picks, but never really worked it herself.

“Since maybe I like thinking I have something waiting in the future,” she said.

BOOK: Stay With Me
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