The "What If" Guy (21 page)

“Autumn.” He cleared his throat. “What are you doing here?”

A thick lump filled my throat. I tried to swallow it a few times before I croaked, “Painting.”

He offered me a weak smile. “This isn’t what you think.”

Hurt and anger stirred in my stomach like hot batter. “Oh, you can do better than that.”

He paled and opened his mouth. Before he could say a word, the sound of stilettos clicked down the stairs. Layla approached, complete with boobs up to her chin and a cat-like grin on her face.

“Henry, it’s so good to see you.” She turned in a circle. “Do you like my dress?”

Henry’s eyes darted between mine and Layla’s about three times before he uttered, “Sure.”

Layla rested her hand on his arm and lowered her eyelids. “I thought you would.”

Bile rose in my throat, and I backed away from them in silence. Layla didn’t turn to look at me, but Henry watched me over her shoulder. His eyebrows pulled together tightly and he frowned as Layla drew flirtatious circles on his chest, promising him all sorts of adult adventures.

Henry’s eyes filled with three things—guilt, guilt, and guilt.

Chapter Fifteen

The next day, Henry called me. Called, called, and called. I didn’t answer.

I avoided Layla by going to her house to paint only when she wasn’t home. I didn’t want to know if Henry had come home with her from their date. I didn’t want to know if they had a second date planned. If she saw me, she wouldn’t be able to contain herself. She’d spill all the spicy details, and I’d be forced to listen politely. Yet, I had to finish the mural in her house to get my hefty paycheck.

“April fool.”

I cringed at the sound of Doris’ voice. I felt like an April fool. I’d been avoiding questions from her and Helen for a week. They knew that Henry had gone out with Layla. Hell, everyone in town knew. Ramona Fisk had asked me about it, twice, while I was buying groceries the morning after. And if Ramona knew, everyone
knew.

“What?” I mumbled.

“I put a surprise next to your cash register,” she said.

I noticed a splotch of rubber puke. “Vomit?”

Doris giggled. Behind the pharmacy counter, Helen covered her mouth in glee.

“Don’t worry.” She came over and peeled it off of the glass countertop. “It’s pretend.”

“Got it.” I forced a smile.

“Henry came in looking for you yesterday, you know.” Helen looked at me over the top of her reading glasses.

My face blanched, and I turned away from them both. “That so?”

“Yeah, you’d already left, so I told him to go and knock on your door, but apparently he didn’t.”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

Doris dusted the counter. “You mad at him, dear?”

“Why would I be mad at him?” I shrugged and hid behind my hair.

“For going out with that Layla Deberaux,” Helen said.

I scowled. “I couldn’t care less who Henry goes out with.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Doris said. “I think you need to have a word with him.”

“Give him a piece of your mind,” Helen chimed in.

“Never let a man walk all over you,” Doris announced.

“I’m not.”

“No man should be allowed to have his cake and eat it, too,” Doris said. “You’re better off alone than with a two-timing man. Look at me. I don’t have a man, and I’m just fine.”

I looked at Doris and sighed. She lived alone with seven cats and often quoted Danielle Steel novels to punctuate her words of wisdom. She wasn’t exactly someone I wanted to emulate.

The phone rang.

Saved by the bell
. I picked up the receiver. “Fairfield Pharmacy, this is Autumn.”

“It’s Holly.”

“Hey.” I mouthed Holly’s name to Doris and Helen. “How’s it going?”

“I’m not feeling so well.” Her voice sounded shaky.

“I’m sorry, Holl. Want me to bring you some dinner tonight? I’ve got a stew in the Crock-Pot at home.”

“Um, no. Can you do me another favor though?”

“Sure.”

“Can you drive me to Spokane?”

“What’s the matter? Are you okay?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t felt the baby move in a while, and now I’m cramping.”

My stomach dropped. “Have you called Cody?”

“Yes. He’s at a livestock auction with his brother. I keep getting his voicemail. I can’t wait for him to answer. I think I should get to the hospital.”

“Of course. I’m on my way.”

I quickly apologized to Doris and Helen, tore out of the pharmacy, and sprinted up the hill. In the house, I left a quick note for my father, then grabbed my car keys.

As I drove to Holly’s house, I called Cody. No answer. Voicemail. I snapped the phone shut, then bit my fingernails. I whipped my old Volvo into Holly’s driveway, tires squealing. I left it running and dashed for her door.

“Let’s go.” I helped Holly into the passenger seat.

She cradled her belly and winced.

“Who’s watching the kids?” I asked.

“My neighbor, Gretta, is on her way.” Holly seemed dazed. “Tabitha is here until she arrives.”

“Okay,” I replied. “I left a message for Elliott to ride his bike over after he gets home. He can help, too.”

She nodded. “Good.”

We sped along the two-lane highway to Spokane. Daffodils bloomed alongside the fields and in the yards of farmhouses. I glanced at Holly, who seemed deep in thought and probably too preoccupied to notice the spring flowers.

“Everything’s going to be fine.” I hoped I was right.

She shook her head, tears filling her eyes. “All of my other babies were so active in the womb. They kicked and moved night and day. This one hasn’t moved since last night.”

I gripped the steering wheel. “Why didn’t you call the doctor first thing this morning?”

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing.” Her voice wavered. “Cody had so much to do today, between the farm, the auction, planting.”

“I’ll get you there as fast as—”

She held up her hand. “Another cramp.”

I pressed my lips together and wished I could drive faster. Damned speed limit. I was already going twelve miles over.

I swallowed the urge to cry. Holly’s baby was only seven months along—still too premature to deliver. I patted her knee. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

I called Cody three more times before we pulled into the hospital parking lot. Still no answer. I waved to an orderly who stood inside the glass doors of the hospital. He came out with a wheelchair for Holly.

The fast-paced drama of triage began. Holly was in pain, and the nurses needed to get her on a fetal monitor quickly. They rolled her to the labor and delivery ward, drew blood, and checked her cervix for dilation. I held her hand the whole time.

A nurse strapped a fetal monitor around Holly’s belly, and the sound of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room. I took a deep breath. Holly crumpled against my shoulder, sobbing. I stroked her hair away from her face as she wept. The nurses moved around us in silence.

An hour later, the on-call obstetrician sat at the end of Holly’s bed with a stern expression on his face. “Mrs. Judd, I’m giving you magnesium sulfate to stop your contractions. We’ll have to observe you overnight to make sure they stop and stay dormant, before we can release you. Your amniotic fluid is low, so we’re going to push the liquids while you’re here.”

“Thank you.” Holly sounded weak. She looked a mess—hair matted, makeup worn off or smeared beneath her eyes, along with purple circles. She probably needed to sleep for a week.

“I think you’ve been working yourself too hard,” the doctor said. “You’re very dehydrated and your white blood cell counts are higher than I would prefer. I recommend that you go on at least partial bed rest after today.”

Holly’s face paled. With five children at home, bed rest was almost impossible. Excusing myself, I left the room, stepped down the hallway, and called Cody for about the hundredth time.

“Hi, this is Cody Judd. Can’t get to the phone right now, so leave me a message.”

“Autumn.” I swung around. Cody crashed into me, his face ashen, eyes wet. “Where is she? I got your messages, what’s going on?”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “They’re both fine.”

“What room is she in? I need to see my wife.”

I patted his arm. “Room twelve-twenty-three.”

His sneakers squeaked as he charged down the hall and into Holly’s room. I followed, but stayed in the hallway. His voice sounded ragged as he comforted Holly. After a few moments, I peeked into the room. Cody had climbed onto the bed with Holly and curled his body around hers.

A stab of envy pierced my gut.

Cody rubbed slow circles on Holly’s belly and my eyes tingled with fresh tears. I wanted someone to love me and care for me. I’d been single for so long, it hadn’t even occurred to me how much I was missing.

An image of Henry and Layla on their date flashed in my mind.

Why had he gone out with her? He’d said he wasn’t interested in Layla, and yet, there he’d been. Taking her and her gravity-defying boobs on a date. I turned on my heel and stalked toward the exit, stopping only long enough to ask the nurse to tell Holly that I would return in the morning. I practically ran to my car.

I had to tell Henry what a mistake he was making. Layla wasn’t right for him. I
was right for him. I didn’t know where I would live after this journey with my father, but I lived in Fairfield now.

It started to rain about a mile outside Fairfield. Big, thick drops plopped on my windshield. A flash of lightening streaked across the sky. The weather mirrored my mood as I stopped the Volvo with a screech in front of Henry’s house. I fisted my hands at my sides and clomped through the storm up to his porch. I swiped at a strand of wet hair that hung across my face, then pounded on the front door.

No answer.

I glared at Henry’s truck, parked in the driveway, and rapped my fist on the door again. “Come out here and face me, you big chicken,” I said, peeking through the window.

Between claps of thunder, a rousing burst of laughter came from the open window of the firehouse next door. A volunteer fire brigade meeting was going on inside. I groaned. Leave it to Henry to be safely hidden in the firehouse when I was ready to blast him.

“Damn stupid Tuesday nights.” I trudged back toward my car, splashing in the mud.

I’d almost made it to my car when an image popped into my mind—Henry and Layla locked in an embrace, breathlessly tumbling onto her white bed, then rolling around like wild animals. My stomach tightened. My hands shook with anger.

Layla couldn’t have him. Henry was mine.

I opened the firehouse door and a burst of wind caught it, slamming it into the wall. I stepped inside. My wet hair stuck to my face in tangled strands, my coat hung off of my shoulders, and the legs of my jeans were splattered with mud. I was sure I looked like a maniac.

Howie Driscoll, the mayor of Fairfield, local dentist, and
fire chief, turned and gaped at me.

“I’m looking for Henry,” I blurted.

Henry stood, gazing at me with concern. “Everything okay?”

“Hey, Auto.” Smartie Guire called from the back.

Another of my father’s friends waved from across the room. “Say hi to your dad.”

I waved at them, embarrassed, and turned toward the door. “Out here,” I said to Henry, who followed me.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, once we’d stepped outside and the wind blew the door shut behind us.

Don’t lose your gumption now, Cole.
I jabbed his chest with my finger. “You’re what’s wrong.”

He rubbed the spot where I’d poked him. “Ow. What was that for?”

“You said you weren’t interested in dating Layla.” My voice became louder by the second.

His eyes widened. “That’s what you’re here about?”

“You’re damn right, that’s what I’m here about.” I poked his chest again.

“We’re in the middle of a meeting.”

“Don’t you start that crap with me. You’re all sitting around, listening to Howie tell fishing stories.”

“How did you know that?”

I glared at him. “My father was on the brigade for ten years.”

“Listen, can I come by your house after the meeting, and we can discuss this?”

“No.”

Henry dragged his hand down his face, wiping off raindrops. “I tried to call you to explain.”

“I didn’t want to talk to you.”

“But now you do?”

“Yes. No. I want you to listen to what I have to say.”

“Autumn—”

“Shut up.”

He put his hands up. “Fine.”

“How dare you lie to me. I knew you were interested in Layla. Why didn’t you just admit it?”

He opened his mouth to speak.

“I’m not finished.”

His lips clamped together in a tight line.

“Why would you kiss me, when you knew you were going to go out with her? Why would you let me think that you liked me? Do you have any idea what you’re getting into by dating Layla Deberaux? She’s like the town bicycle, Henry. Everyone’s had a ride. Is that really what you want?”

“Her father is in there.” He pointed over his shoulder at the firehouse.

“That’s not my problem.” I caught my breath. “Maybe I want you. I don’t care where I might live in six months or a year. Maybe I only care about now, and now, I want to be with you.”

Henry’s expression softened. “Autumn—”

“You have no idea how many times over the past thirteen years I’ve thought about you.” I raked my wet hair back from my face. “You have no idea how many times I’ve replayed the day I broke up with you. If I could undo what I did, I would. I loved you. Hell, I still do. I should have stayed with you. I should have given us a chance. We would be like Cody and Holly right now, married for twelve years, with a gaggle of kids and a messy house.

“When I realized that you lived here, I thought I might have been given a second chance. But every time we’re together, I get more and more confused. You want me, and then you don’t want me. Then I want you, but I pull away because I think it’s for the best. And then the next thing I know, you’re going out on a date with Layla and her skanky dress.”

He swiped a tear off of my cheek.

Indignation bubbled in my gut, and I jerked out of his reach. “I can’t compete with her or that dress or her boobs. Look at me.” I gestured to my body. “I’m just me, Henry. No surgery. How in the hell am I supposed to compete?”