Lakeside Reunion (13 page)

Stephen guided her to the couch where he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her against his chest. The soft cotton of his T-shirt hugged her cheek.

Lindsey told him about the quilt and the fall.

“Just because your mom has Max now doesn't mean she's replacing you or your dad. He will always have a place in her heart, but she needs to move on with her life.”

“I want her to be happy. I do.”

“But?”

“I'm being selfish. Everyone's getting what they want but me.”

“Do you really believe that? What do you want, Linds?”

“I want to turn back time. I want my dad back. If I knew
that was the last hug I was going to give him, I would have clung tighter. I want my heart to stop being used for a punching bag. I want Mom to keep the house. It holds so many memories.”

“Don't you think your mom deserves a fresh start?”

“Like I said, I'm being selfish, but it was such a shock, you know? I can't imagine what it would be like to lose a spouse. I can't imagine what my mother has gone through these past five years. Or you.”

“Each of us handles grief in our own way. This hasn't been an easy year for me, but with God's help, I've been making it through the tough times. Tyler and I take it one day at a time. Some days are better than others, I will admit, but we are adjusting slowly.”

“Your family is very generous and supportive, too.”

“I don't know what I would do without Mom and Dad and Nate and Melissa. They're always willing to lend a hand. Sometimes I feel like I take up too much of their time.” He shifted, removing his arm from around Lindsey. She missed the warmth.

He turned sideways and faced her, laying his hands over hers and intertwining their fingers. Her heart raced. Stephen touched his forehead to hers. “I've been thinking about our talk the other day. While I was married to Bethany, I had no intention of seeking you out. I took a vow and closed the door to that part of my life. But now, with you back here, I can't help but wonder if God has other ideas. I'm thankful for His mercy. And second chances. Five years hasn't changed how I feel. I still love you, Lindsey.”

For years, she had longed to hear those words. But now, as much as she wanted to say them in return, she couldn't. Too much had happened between them. She couldn't risk her heart to have him reject her again. She didn't know if she could recover a second time.

Lindsey pulled her hands out of his and slid across the couch cushion away from him. “Stephen, don't do this, please.”

He stood and rubbed the back of his neck. “Do what?”

“You know what.” She grabbed one of the couch pillows and hugged it to her chest.

“Tell me you don't feel anything between us and I'll leave you alone. Tell me this spark is all in my imagination.”

She looked up at him. “It's your imagination.”

“Liar.”

Lindsey pulled her gaze away from his insightful eyes. “Don't be ridiculous.”

“If you didn't feel anything, why did you come back here tonight?”

“I needed a friend.”

“You could have gone to Melissa's if you wanted a friend. But you came to me. Because you felt the same thing I did. So what are you going to do now? Leave Shelby Lake and pretend this doesn't exist between us?”

“I need to go back Maple Valley. I have a business to run.”

“What if you don't go back? What if Tyler and I need you?”

He was right, but she was too much of a coward to take a chance. The place she ended up going for comfort was the one place she should have been trying to escape—Stephen's arms.

 

He needed his head examined. If she wanted to go, he needed to let her. He was crazy to think that maybe, just maybe they had something going.

Stephen pushed the screwdriver too hard. The bit slipped off the end of the screw head, gouging the wood. He slammed the tool on his workbench and gripped the edge of the table.

When he asked her last night to consider staying, she
didn't answer. No “I'll think about it.” Not even a “Maybe.” She left. So much for putting his feelings out there. He tossed and turned all night, mentally kicking himself for rushing things. Maybe he should have given her more time.

He was a joke. Why would she want him anyway? He broke her heart once. She probably expected him to do it again. And now he had a kid—a kid with the woman he married after breaking Lindsey's heart. Yeah, he was a real prize. No wonder she left.

He stomped over to the stack of wood piled against the back wall of the garage. He needed a clean sheet of plywood to cut for the top of the toy box.

“Knock knock.”

He jerked and smacked his head on the shelf above the wood. Biting back a word not fit for human ears, he straightened and brushed the wood dust from his jeans.

Lindsey stood in the open doorway. Midmorning sunshine haloed her hair, making it glisten like liquid gold. “I knocked on the front door, but no one answered. Then I saw this one open. Can I come in?”

Stephen shrugged, eyeing her black pants, white blouse and red leather jacket. “Watch where you lean. It's dusty.”

“Dad's workshop used to be the same way.” She wandered over to his workbench. She drew her finger through a small pile of sawdust. “I'm not interrupting anything, am I?”

“No.” Stephen grabbed a dust broom and swept the sawdust off the table into the dustpan.

She folded her hands on the table. “You look busy.”

“Not really.” He uncapped his half-empty Mountain Dew and took a swig, avoiding her eyes.

“Are you okay?”

What was she doing here? He braced his hands on his hips, finally looking at her. “I'm fine.”

“What are you making?”

“A toy box.”

Lindsey ran her hand down the side of the box. “You do nice work, Stephen.”

“Your dad taught me everything I know. He deserves all the credit.”

“People can teach, but it's up to the student to apply the lessons. That cradle…wow, it was one of the most beautiful pieces of furniture I've seen.” Her smile set his heart on fire.

He shrugged. “Mel seemed to like it.”

“You have a gift. Why are you shrugging it off?”

“Maybe because I know the truth.” He wanted her to get to the point of her visit and then leave him alone to wallow in his misery.

“Maybe what you're seeing isn't truth.”

Stephen turned his back to search through the stack of already-cut sheets.

“What are you looking for?”

“A piece of plywood.”

“Isn't that plywood there? Next to your rolling tool chest?”

“Yes, but those pieces have knotholes or wormholes. I need something without flaws.” He found a piece small enough for the top of the toy box and carried it to the workbench.

“Flaws add character to the wood, giving it depth, a history.” Lindsey folded her arms over her chest and leaned against his worktable.

“Without those knotholes, the wood may have been used for a different purpose. Something bigger and better. Some people focus only on the flaws.” He measured the wood to ensure he had the correct size.

“Then they're not seeing the whole picture.”

He shrugged. “People see what they want to see.”

“Even with a knot, Melissa's focus will be on the overall beauty—the gift as it was intended.”

“Well, aren't you the wise one this morning? My sister deserves more than a flawed gift.”

“Are we still discussing wood?”

“Lindsey, why are you here?” Stephen palmed the table and glared at her.

“I wanted to thank you for being so nice last night.” She stared at her hands and ran her thumb over her polished nails.

“You said thanks last night.” Inside, he winced at the jerky tone of his voice. Was he trying to run her off?

Her expression crumbled as she pushed away from the table and dusted off her clothes. “Okay, then. I'd better go.”

He circled the bench and hooked his hand around her elbow. “Lindsey. Wait. I'm sorry. I've been acting like a jerk.”

“Why?”

He raked a hand through his hair, scattering sawdust. Should he tell her the truth? Why not? He'd already laid his heart on the line last night. “If I stay mad at you, maybe your leaving won't rip a crater in my heart.”

“Stephen, I can't stay. You know that. Too many memories. There's too much hurt between us. Besides, I have the inn.” She tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket.

“You could always open an inn in Shelby Lake. With the amount of tourists that come through here, you'd be packed.”

Lindsey held up a hand. “Don't make this any harder than it needs to be, please.”

“The annual Shelby Lake Police Officers' Gala is coming up this weekend. Go with me.” The words rushed out of his mouth before his brain could stop him. Was he crazy? She wouldn't want to hang out with people who reminded her of her dad. No way.

“I don't know. It's hard, you know. Being around all those people who will want to talk about Dad.”

“Your dad was a great guy, Linds. You should want to talk about him. Keep his memory alive.”

“It hurts.”

“Yeah, it does. Slowly, over time, the pain becomes less and less. You don't want to hide your memories in a box for fear of feeling pain.”

“One condition.”

“Name it.”

“We go as friends. No pressure for anything more.”

W
as this how Daniel felt facing the lions? Too bad Lindsey didn't have Daniel's courage. Bells jangled against the glass as she opened the door to Cuppa Josie's and stepped inside. Pushing her sunglasses up on her head, she took a couple of seconds for her eyes to adjust to the low lighting before scanning the room for Mom and Max.

They sat across from each other at a square table tucked in the corner of the room. Max toyed with a spoon while Mom opened and closed the clasp on her watch. Neither spoke.

When Mom told her over breakfast this morning that she had called off the wedding and wasn't selling the house, Lindsey didn't believe her. Not at first. But when her tears punctuated the news, Lindsey knew she had to do something to fix the mess she created.

She should have been happy. After all, wasn't that what she wanted? The family home safe and secure. Her mom all to herself. Then why couldn't she stop thinking about the trail of tears down Mom's face? And that horrible feeling knowing she was the reason for her mother's change of heart.

Time to grow up, Linds.

After leaving Stephen's, she'd called Max, asking him to pick up Mom and meet her at Cuppa Josie's. Max's cool tone
let Lindsey know just how thrilled he was with the idea, but he agreed.

She crossed the room to their table, set her purse on one of the empty chairs and dropped her tote bag on the floor. “Thanks for meeting me. I'm going to order some tea. Mom, want some? Max, can I get you anything?”

They shook their heads and didn't say anything.

Okay, then. Maybe tea wasn't a great idea right now. She had a lot of work to do to fix the mess she made the other night. Pulling out a chair, she sat, opened her purse and fanned the brochures on the table.

Her mother folded her hands on the table and nodded at the brochures. “What are those?”

Lindsey pasted a smile on her face and picked up a brochure with a smiling family standing in front of a house on the glossy cover. Would
she
ever have that? “Your future, beginning with information from Seaver Realty. You have an appointment at four to talk with them about putting the house on the market.” She pushed it across the table to Mom.

Mom touched her hand. “Honey, you don't have to do this.”

“Yes, Mom, I do. I stopped by the bakery and left a deposit, telling Marie-Anne to send me the rest of the bill. All you two have to do is pick out the cake of your choice. I stopped by the florist and put down a deposit.” She reached into her tote bag and pulled out a couple of bridal magazines. “Now, I wasn't sure if you wanted a gown from the bridal shop, or if you'd prefer Aunt Claire to make it. Regardless, I picked up these magazines. I figured we could have a girls' night soon and go through them for ideas.”

Reaching into the tote bag, Lindsey pulled out the wedding ring quilt, her fingers digging into the material. She sighed and held it out to her mother. “Grandma washed the quilt. She was able to remove the tea stain. I'm so sorry about the way I acted last night. Peace offering?”

Mom took the quilt. The multicolored patterned squares faded with age and many washings still held together. She traced the tight stitching, then hugged it to her chest. “Lindsey, why are you doing this? All of this?”

Lindsey threaded her fingers through her mother's. “You have beautiful hands, Mom. They deserve a little bling. From a guy who can make you happy again. I had no right to complicate that. What you and Dad had was wonderful. Nowadays, a strong marriage is becoming a rare thing. But you and Dad made it. Especially with a job like his. Someday I hope to have that same kind of marriage.” Lindsey reached for Max's hand and squeezed lightly. “But what you and Max have is wonderful, too. Max, I appreciate you not trying to replace my dad. You two deserve your second chances.”

Max returned the squeeze. “I appreciate that, Lindsey, but I don't think it's fair to accept your apology unless you accept ours. Your mom wanted to wait, but I was so excited—the second those words flew out of my mouth, I realized we had shocked you. I'm sorry for blurting it out like that. We hid our relationship from you, not giving you much of a chance to get to know me or my family. Your reaction was understandable. I'm sorry. Please forgive me.”

“Honey, Max is right. I handled all of this badly from the beginning. I should have respected you as an adult and told you about him from the very beginning. I was afraid, you see.” Mom's eyes filled with tears. She cupped Lindsey's cheek. “You were always your daddy's little girl. I didn't know how you'd react.”

“Mom deserves the best, Max, and I believe you will treat her right. No more secrets, from either of you. And please don't run off and do something crazy like eloping. Mom, give me a little time to get used to the idea you've fallen in love with someone else.”

“No problem, honey. Listen, this quilt has always been
my favorite because, well, my mother made it for your dad and me as a wedding gift. I have beautiful memories of your father, but I believe it's time for new memories to be made. I want you to have the quilt, honey. Maybe it will bring you the same comfort it brought me through the years.”

Lindsey's nose prickled. She choked back tears. “Mom, but the quilt…are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thanks. I'll treasure it.” Lindsey buried her face in the cotton fabric and inhaled the scent of fabric softener. Would she ever find someone to share her life? To have the kind of marriage like her parents did? Stephen's face flashed through her thoughts, spiraling her back to the night he kissed her. The only way to find out was to risk her heart. But was she ready to take a chance?

 

Somewhere between the blurred edges of sleep and awakening, Lindsey stirred, hearing her mother's voice. “Lindsey, telephone.”

Lindsey peered through one half-opened eyelid until her mother's shadowy form focused. She stifled a yawn and reached for the phone. “Hello.”

“Miss Lindsey, this is Ty. Tyler Chase. Would you like to, um, go pick out a puppy with me and my dad?”

She flung off the afghan and pushed herself to a sitting position on the corner of the couch. She shivered as she crossed her legs Indian-style. “Ty, that's sweet of you to ask. Are you sure? I don't want to intrude.”

“What does intrude mean?”

“Are you sure I won't be in the way?”

“Uh-uh. Please say yes.”

“Thanks, I'd love to.”

“Okay, here's my dad.”

“Lindsey?”

“I'm here.”

“Sorry to bother you. Ty and I were riding bikes in the park and came across some Pets on Parade show put on by the animal shelter. Ty begged. I gave in. The rest, as they say, is history.”

“Where should I meet you?”

“I can pick you up. It's on the way. I'll be there in ten.”

Lindsey hurried upstairs. Because sleep had been a stranger last night, the couch beckoned when she returned from Cuppa Josie's. A glance in the mirror showed a textured imprint on her cheek—one that matched the couch pillows. Not much she could do about that except splash some water on her face and hope it faded before Stephen arrived. She ran a brush through her hair and crossed the hall to her room.

She changed out of her yoga pants and T-shirt into a pair of butter-soft worn jeans, an ivory cable-knit turtleneck and slipped into a scarlet down vest. She pulled on her new black boots. Heading down the stairs, she heard a vehicle pull into the driveway.

“Mom, Stephen's here. I'll be back soon.” She grabbed her denim jacket and headed out the door.

Stephen met her halfway to the door. He waved and gave her that half grin that sent her heart spiraling down to her toes. His navy V-neck sweater worn over a white T-shirt darkened his eyes like sapphires. He jogged backward to the passenger door and opened it, bowing low and making a sweeping motion as if she were a queen entering the royal carriage. She laughed and stepped inside. He shut the door and rounded the front of his SUV.

“Thanks.” She smiled at Stephen once he slid behind the wheel. She twisted in her seat. “Hey, Ty. Are you excited?”

Hair hanging in his eyes, he nodded and grinned. He poked his front tooth. “Look, I have a loose tooth.”

“Wow, look at that. First one?” He nodded again, then turned back to his handheld game.

As Stephen backed out her mother's drive, Jeremy Camp's “Take You Back” blared from the radio. Even though the song was about worship, as Lindsey listened—really listened—to the words, she realized he could have been singing about her relationship with Stephen.

Could she take Stephen back? Too crazy to even think about. No way possible. She lived and worked two hours away. Stephen deserved more than a long-distance relationship. Ty was settled in school here, and with Stephen's job with the police department, asking them to move to Maple Valley was out of the question. Things were better left as they were, weren't they?

Within minutes, Stephen parallel parked his SUV along the river. Cars lined both sides of the street near the park.

They jogged across the street. Yips and barks bounced off the tree limbs and settled over them like falling leaves. Ty ran ahead as Lindsey and Stephen ambled across the mottled grass where different breeds of dogs greeted them with wagging tails and wriggling bodies. Cats lifted their heads as people paused in front of their kennels, but otherwise they couldn't be bothered.

Tyler dropped to his knees in front of the small fenced-in area where three chocolate-colored puppies tumbled over each other. They ran over to Ty and barked at him.

“Can I pet one, Dad?”

Stephen knelt beside him. “Let's make sure we have permission first.”

A lady with silver-frosted hair who wore jeans and a denim shirt embroidered with animals came over to them. She tucked her hands between her knees as she leaned over to talk to Ty. “Have you had a pet before?”

“A goldfish once, but it died. Dad flushed it. Besides, fish don't count. You can't pick them up and play with them.”

“No, that would be a bad idea. If your parents don't mind, you're welcome to step inside and play with the puppies, but they are frisky.” She placed her hand on the play-yard gate.

“Can I, Dad?” Tyler stared at Stephen with such a hopeful expression that only an ogre could deny the kid.

Stephen slung an arm around his son's shoulders. “Remember our talk on the way over?”

Ty nodded, his hair flopping across his forehead. “Let them sniff my hand first and get used to my scent. Be gentle.”

Stephen tousled Tyler's curls and stood. He stepped next to Lindsey to watch Ty. One of the puppies bounded over to Tyler's feet and tugged on his shoelaces with its little teeth. Within minutes, he rolled in the grass with the three puppies jumping on him, trying to lick his face. His giggles rivaled the finest symphonies.

The denim-shirt lady stood by the fence, watching Tyler with the puppies. She turned to Lindsey and Stephen. “He looks like he's enjoying himself.”

Lindsey leaned into Stephen. The softness of his sweater caressed her cheek. “You know there's no going back now.”

“I wouldn't have it any other way.” He threaded his fingers through hers and squeezed before kissing the top of her head.

She looked down at their hands and wanted to correct him—let him know she was referring to Tyler and the puppies. Stephen's fingers, strong and calloused, marred with nicks, gave her a feeling of security.

An elderly couple sat on a nearby bench throwing bread-crumbs to the birds. Lindsey recognized them as Mom's neighbors. They had been married for almost sixty years. And still holding hands. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine she and Stephen doing the same thing in the future.

The dogs stretched on their hind legs, clawing at their metal kennels, begging her with their eyes.

Freedom.

To run. To play. To discover beyond the cage.

All of those emotions she had kept locked away for years rattled against her heart like the puppies pawing the sides of their kennels.

She wanted that same kind of freedom.

 

Stephen dropped into his desk chair with its cracked vinyl. He ran his hands over his face and leaned his head against the back of the chair, the metal frame cooling the back of his neck. He shoved a stack of papers away from the corner of his desk with the heel of his shoe and rested both feet, crossed at the ankles, on the corner of his desk. He laced his fingers behind his neck and stared at the stained ceiling tiles in the squad room. The phone rang on Reba's dispatch desk. Another day, another round of issues.

A shaft of morning sunlight splintered through the sagging blinds, spearing his desk with warm rays. Eyes burning from lack of sleep, Stephen squinted against the light and turned his head away. A yawn escaped before he could smother it. He hated working the graveyard shift, but with the department's rotating schedules, he had no choice.

He prayed Toby—the chocolate Lab Ty picked out—would sleep through the night tonight. When Stephen put Ty to bed and tried to catch a two-hour nap before duty, the puppy's whimpering kept Ty awake, constantly asking Stephen if the puppy was okay. Stephen assured him Toby was fine—just missing his mama and siblings. Stephen managed to doze off, only to awaken and find Ty curled up on a blanket next to Toby's kennel.

Instead of taking Ty to his parents' as he usually did when he worked graveyards, Dad spent the night. Maybe he could
con Dad into taking Toby so Stephen could get some shut-eye, especially after last night.

Kendall entered the squad room and dropped his keys on the metal desk butted against Stephen's. “Rough night?”

Stephen dropped his feet with a thud and sat up in his chair. He rested his elbows on his desk, raking his fingers through his hair. “Kirk Green beat up his wife again. His mother called 911, but the wife refused to press charges. Said she tripped over his work boots and hit her face on the kitchen counter. She was angrier with her mother-in-law than her husband. What kind of jerk gets his kicks from hurting women? And with their young daughter there.”