Taking Charge (26 page)

“It’s so beautiful,” Robyn said, running her fingers
over the panther’s jewels.

“I know you don’t want to tell anyone yet, but let me
put it on, just for now,” Cole said, taking the ring and holding
her hand.

He slid it onto the ring finger of Robyn’s left hand
and held it in his.

“Is it too tight? The guy in the store said we could
get it sized,” Cole said.

“It’s perfect Cole. Come on, get out,” Robyn ordered,
squeezing his hand and then pulling the handle of the car door.

“I was going to put her in the garage,” Cole said,
unmoving.

“Get out, Ryan, get up here with me,” Robyn called,
approaching Leonora’s hood.

Cole watched as Robyn stepped up onto the hood and
hauled herself up onto the roof of the vehicle.

“Hey! Are you crazy?” he yelled, hurrying out from
behind the wheel.

She laid along the length of the roof, her arms
folded behind her head, looking up at the sky. She took a deep
breath and held it in, soaking up the still of the night.

“What are you doing?” Cole asked when he got out of
the car.

“Are you coming or are you going to make me pull your
ass up here?”

He heaved himself up onto the hood and followed her
path up to the roof of the Mustang, sliding himself alongside her
and maneuvering until he was lying on his back.

“What are we looking at?” he asked in barely more
than a whisper.

“I had a pony once. She was named Mitzy. She had an
aversion to anything that was good for her and barely moved above a
trot. But when we rode out, I was Reba McEntire in my jeans and my
Stetson, singing at the top of my voice and not caring who heard or
how bad it was. I loved that horse, she gave me somewhere to escape
to when Mom and Dad’s fighting got to be too much,” Robyn said.

Her eyes were still on the sky and the memory from
long ago was jabbing at her. She felt Cole take a deep breath
beside her and she let the words come out.

“She died. Got colic and it was too bad to do
anything,” Robyn stated.

Cole found her hand and squeezed it in his as she
continued.

“I cried for a week, all day and all night. Nothing
anyone said could make it better. Until Old Man Harrison came
round. He bought a new halter, a whole bag of Hershey’s Kisses, and
he told me to get my lazy ass out of bed. He got me riding his new
pony, said he needed someone to break her in, and then we ate the
chocolate. By the time we’d eaten all the chocolate and named the
pony, it was dark and he’d looked up at the sky and told me to pick
out the brightest one. I can tell you, for an eight year old kid,
that took a long time, but I finally settled on it. He said,
That’s Mitzy and she’ll be there, every time you look up
. He
was a crazy old man,” Robyn said, swallowing a lump in her
throat.

“So, where is she? Show me,” Cole said, looking
skywards again.

“She’s right there, and that one, to the left, that’s
the star I picked for Old Man Harrison the night Sarah told me he’d
died,” Robyn admitted, pointing to a bright star.

Cole gave her hand another reassuring squeeze,
teasing the engagement ring against her little finger.

“I thought we could choose one for your dad,” Robyn
stated, looking to Cole.

She saw the tears form in his eyes and he looked away
from her, up to the inky blanket above, filled with twinkling stars
that all looked as bright as each other.

“My dad loved horses. Do you think we can put him
next to Mitzy?” Cole asked.

“Sure. Look, she’s nuzzling his hand right now.”

“Sarah, this is the fourth voicemail I’ve left for
you. Where are you? What’s going on? Please call me,” Robyn shouted
into her phone.

Today she was meeting Cole’s mother and she’d been
panicking about it all morning. On top of that, Sarah was being
completely unresponsive to her calls and Nancy and Milo were
fighting. She knew it was because Nancy was anxious about Eddie’s
operation, and Robyn had given her the task of making lunch for
Mrs. Ryan to keep her mind off of it. Leaving them unattended at
the roadhouse would go one of two ways. She’d either go back to
find them bonding over the pool table or Milo would be locked up in
the cellar. At the moment, it was the least of her concerns.

She carefully took the chicken stew out of Leonora
and hurried up the path to the front door. Immediately she noticed
someone sitting on the doorstep. It was Mickey. He was dressed in
overalls and he looked disheveled, like he hadn’t slept or
showered. He had a bottle of lager in his hand.

“Mickey. What are you doing here?” Robyn asked,
stopping in front of him.

“Is Sarah here? I rang the bell, I knocked on the
door, and I went round back, but there was no sign. I tried to call
you, but it kept going to voicemail,” Mickey stuttered, standing
up.

“She isn’t here. I’ve been trying to call her. What’s
happened? You look terrible,” Robyn remarked.

“She left me,” Mickey stated, tears welling up in his
eyes.

“What? But, I thought Cole told you what to do. You
were supposed to propose to her,” Robyn exclaimed, putting her key
in the door and pushing it open.

“I was going to, but when I got home, she was packing
her stuff.”

“Well, why didn’t you stop her? You should have taken
her clothes back out of the case, put them back in the closet, and
got down on one knee,” Robyn said, entering the alarm code to stop
the beeping.

“She wouldn’t even talk to me. She was crying, and I
asked her what was wrong and she just said nothing. Not one word,”
Mickey explained as tears spilled from his eyes.

“And she just left? Didn’t she even tell you where
she was going? When did this happen?” Robyn wanted to know.

She took the container of soup out of the bag and
placed it on the side.

“Last night.”

“Last night! And she isn’t at work? Have you called
everyone we know?”

“I called her work. I called Diane from her work. I
called Brad and Henrik this morning. I didn’t call anyone last
night because I thought she’d be here with you, and I wanted to
give her some space,” Mickey tried to explain.

“Okay, right, well, we’re just going to have to wait
until she surfaces,” Robyn said, looking out of the window and
noticing Cole’s car pull into the drive.

“But where is she? Do you think she’s left town?”
Mickey asked.

“No, she won’t have done that,” Robyn said,
distracted.

She watched as Cole got out of the car and went to
open the passenger door.

“I just want a chance to say the right thing. I love
her, Robyn, and yeah, maybe I am scared of getting married. But if
I’d known how much she really wanted to do it then…” Mickey began,
wiping his nose with the sleeve of his overalls.

“Look, Mickey, I’ll call Pam. I’ll call everyone else
I can think of, and if I find her, I will let you know. You have to
go now. Cole’s brought home an important client and I have to
prepare soup,” Robyn said quickly, watching as a small, dark-haired
lady got out of the car.

“You promise you’ll call me?” Mickey asked, clutching
his beer bottle to his chest like it was a life preserver.

“Yes, I promise. Now give me that and get back to
work. If you’re going to give Sarah this wedding, you’re going to
need every penny you can get,” Robyn said, snatching the bottle
from him and dropping it into the recycling bin.

“You don’t think it’s too late? You think she’ll give
me another chance?” Mickey asked as Robyn hastily shooed him to the
door.

“Let’s hope so,” Robyn said, smiling at Cole as he
approached with his mother.

“Hey, Cole. Afternoon, ma’am,” Mickey greeted in a
lackluster voice as he walked past them.

“Mom, this is Mickey. Is everything okay, man?” Cole
asked.

“Yeah, great. Sarah’s left me and now she’s missing.
I’d better go…Brad said he’d check the local hotels,” Mickey said,
waving a hand as he headed back up the drive.

Robyn smiled at Cole’s mother as they approached the
door. She was petite and pretty with an almost Asian look to her
features. She had olive-colored skin and was wearing a turquoise
blue dress that skirted her ankles.

“Mom, this is Robyn. Robyn, this is Martha, my mom,”
Cole introduced.

“It’s so nice to meet you. Cole talks about you all
the time. How was your flight? Did they give you the Bombay mix or
the pretzels? I prefer the pretzels, they don’t stick in your teeth
or repeat on you so much,” Robyn babbled as she smiled at
Martha.

“Unfortunately, we had the Bombay mix, but I didn’t
actually eat any,” Martha informed her with a smile of
amusement.

“Robyn eats more than me, Mom,” Cole informed her as
he led the way into the house.

“He’s exaggerating. We went out for dinner last night
and Cole didn’t manage to finish his dessert. He’s sore about
that,” Robyn told her.

“I stopped before I felt sick, the way I’ve been
raised. And it was the right thing to do.”

“Martha, would you like coffee or something cold?
We’ve got apple juice,” Robyn offered.

“Have we?” Cole asked.

“Yes, we have…in the healthy section of the
refrigerator.”

“Do we have a healthy section?”

“We do now.”

“A coffee would be good,” Martha accepted, her
attention darting between them.

“Great! Well, I’ll make some coffee and Cole can show
you around the house. Excuse the mess, I only managed to vacuum
once this morning. Usually, when I’m not managing my roadhouse, I
do it twice a day, every day,” Robyn informed happily.

Cole let out a snort of laughter.

“Cole, could you take up the freshly laundered sheets
and pop them in the closet,” Robyn said, and she swung round, a
pile of linen in her hands.

“I think I’ve walked into the wrong house,” Cole
remarked.

“He’s making a joke. Usually wash day is tomorrow,
but my father’s having an operation and I want to be at the
hospital,” Robyn said quickly.

“I see,” Martha replied, smiling at Robyn kindly.

“She’s trying to make a good impression,” Cole
whispered to his mom.

“I can see that,” Martha replied.

“So, how is work going here?” Martha asked Cole.

He had given her the grand tour of the house and now
they were sitting at the dining table enjoying Nancy’s homemade
chicken stew and cornbread.

“Good. It’s a good team. They’re very dedicated and
enthusiastic,” Cole said.

“More enthusiastic than your team in Chicago?” Martha
asked.

“I don’t know, things are different here, slower
paced. It’s the Michigan way, isn’t that right, Robyn?” Cole said,
grinning at her.

“That’s right,” Robyn answered brightly.

“Have you made any more progress with your theory?”
Martha asked him.

“I thought we were going to have a breakthrough the
other day. Things looked good, the science said it should work, but
it didn’t,” Cole told her.

“Why not?” Martha asked.

“I haven’t figured that one out yet. But I will,”
Cole assured her.

“I don’t really know what he does all day, but it
sounds very important,” Robyn said, taking some more bread.

“Doesn’t she know?” Martha asked, looking at Cole in
horror.

“Mom, it isn’t important,” Cole said
dismissively.

“Cole! How can you say that?” Martha exclaimed.

“Because my life here isn’t just about the job,
that’s why. There is more to me than work, Mom.”

“Robyn, Cole is the closest anyone’s been to creating
a revolutionary cancer drug. He’s a formula away—a formula,” Martha
said firmly.

“It’s more than a formula, Mom. It’s a long process
and there are a number of factors to take into consideration,” Cole
told her.

“I didn’t realize. I should have realized,” Robyn
said, swallowing a feeling of stupidity. Why didn’t she know that?
She should have known that.

“No, you shouldn’t have realized,” Cole insisted.

“What he’s going to achieve is nothing short of
miraculous,” Martha continued.

“Mom, don’t do this. You always do this and it’s
embarrassing,” Cole said, laying his napkin down on the table and
toying with his water glass.

“You should be proud of what you do.”

“I am proud of what I do, but it isn’t
everything.”

“Did you know Cole’s my best player on the ice hockey
team?” Robyn asked.

“I hardly think ice hockey’s as relevant to the world
as finding a cure for cancer,” Martha mocked.

“Here in Portage, we take ice hockey very seriously.
My Uncle Bob always says hockey isn’t life and death—it’s far more
important than that. I’ve never really known whether he’s serious
or not,” she replied with a smile

“What a ridiculous statement to make. I can’t believe
you don’t discuss your work with your girlfriend. Is she your
girlfriend? Because you haven’t really said,” Martha said, wiping
her mouth with the napkin and looking at Cole.

“Why don’t I get dessert,” Robyn offered, standing
up.

“Mom, Robyn and I are getting married,” Cole told her
bluntly.

Robyn sat back down and stared at her half-eaten bowl
of chicken stew. Her ring was in the pocket of her jeans and she
slipped her fingers inside to touch it.

“Getting married,” Martha repeated, pursing her lips
and putting down her soup spoon.

“Yes, next week. The twenty-second. Can you come?”
Cole asked her.

“Cole, is this some sort of joke?”

“No. I know we haven’t known each other very long,
but we know it’s what we want. When we met, we just gelled and…”
Cole started.

“Gelled,” Martha said as if the very word was too
ugly for her mouth.

“We connected…like you and Dad did when you first
met. Remember when you first met each other, under the cherry
blossom, both holding a copy of To Kill a Mocking Bird. You’ve told
me that story so many times. You said you knew right then that
there would be no one else. He was your Mr. Right and you were
right for him. That’s how I feel about Robyn,” Cole said.