Trinity Falls (6 page)

“Oh, yeah.” Quincy nodded.

Megan closed her eyes briefly. “Fine. I'll take care of it.”

Just as she'd dealt with other messes Ramona had made of her plans. She turned to stomp away, but a firm grasp held her in place.

Her cousin's sigh was suffering yet irritated. “I'll handle Stan.” Ramona released her. She adjusted her pointed hat and smoothed her dress.

It really was a great costume. She'd gotten into the spirit of the event, as she always did. The long-sleeved black dress had a neckline that was just short of daring, a figure-hugging bodice and a pencil-thin, ankle-length skirt. The pointed black hat balanced at a cocky angle on her head. Spiders danced at the end of her dangling silver earrings. Skeleton-shaped charms hung from her necklace.

Megan wasn't the only one who watched her cousin. Quincy's mesmerized gaze followed Ramona's every move.

Megan allowed herself to hope. “You'll take Stan home?”

“Later.” Ramona shook her head. “Keep him in the kitchen, drinking coffee. I'll take him home after I read to the kids.”

“
You'll
read to them?” Quincy's voice rose with surprise.

Ramona's dark gaze should have turned the university professor to ashes. “Contrary to your opinion, I can read.”

Megan's headache disappeared. Her facial muscles relaxed into a smile. “Thanks, Ramona. Let's get started.”

Before Ramona could have second thoughts, Megan grabbed her cousin's arm and dragged her to the front of the store. She delivered Ramona to the Halloween reading area, which she, Doreen and their student helpers had created.

After announcing story time, Megan gingerly made her way through the sea of children sprawled on the floor around Ramona. They listened, enraptured, as she started the first Halloween story. Megan had seated her cousin in an ornate red velvet throne that doubled as Santa's chair during the Christmas season. Today, two large human skulls were staked to the seat's high back, and two smaller ones were driven onto the chair's arms—all fake, of course.

“What a relief.” Megan sighed as she joined Ean, Darius and Quincy at the perimeter of the entertainment.

“I told you it would work out.” Ean tossed her a smile.

“I wasn't sure.” Megan felt his eyes on her. His attention made her self-conscious. She also felt powerful, sexy and aroused.

The children jumped after Ramona's dramatic pause in the story. It was a talent her cousin had perfected by tormenting a much younger Megan. Ramona adopted different voices for each character in the creepy tale.

“The witch saved Halloween.” Quincy's voice was thoughtful.

“Now there's a headline.” Darius unwrapped the piece of chocolate he'd taken from a candy bowl. The crystal bowl was in the shape of a fake, decaying hand. Megan's staff had placed several of them around the store.

Ean came to Ramona's defense. “Sometimes Ramona can surprise you with a generous act. She's not as aloof as she sometimes seems.”

Ean spoke with affection. The bubble of feminine power in which Megan had been basking popped. She fought the urge to withdraw into herself.

How could she have entertained even for one second the smallest kernel of hope that Ean Fever could ever give her a second look—especially with Ramona around?

CHAPTER 8

“What movie do you want to see tonight?” Ean drained his glass of water Thursday morning. He'd been home for almost a month. He rose from his seat at the kitchen table to add the glass to the dishwasher.

Sharing breakfast with his mother was like old times. The difference was his father should have been at the table, too. He should be the one getting ready for work.

Ean struggled free from the weight of grief. After his mother left for work, he'd go for his morning jog. Would he see Megan in the park again? He couldn't stop thinking of their near kiss three weeks ago—and how badly he wished she hadn't run from him.

“I thought I'd make us dinner tonight.” His mother's response interrupted his thoughts.

“You wouldn't rather go out? My treat.” Ean returned to the table to collect his mother's empty breakfast dishes.

“I'd assumed as much.” Doreen's smile was unsteady. “But I'd rather stay in for dinner. Just the two of us. And a friend.”

“Who?” Ean stacked her dishes in the dishwasher, then closed its door before facing his mother.

Doreen hesitated. “Leo. I want the two of you to get reacquainted.”

Ean leaned against the kitchen counter for support. “You mean you want me to accept him as your boyfriend.”

Doreen inclined her head. “At my age, the term ‘boyfriend' sounds odd, but you're essentially right.”

It did sound odd to say his mother had a boyfriend, but Ean would embrace that word, if only to avoid the images associated with alternative terms. “I'm not going to stand in the way of your dating Coach George, but there's no reason for
me
to spend time with him.”

“Yes, there is. I'm not going to divide my life into two halves just because you're uncomfortable with my relationship with Leo.”

Ean recognized the determination in Doreen's warm brown eyes. She'd been giving him that look all of his life—when he protested eating his vegetables, doing his homework or cleaning his room. Now she was giving him that steely regard because he didn't want to spend time with her boyfriend. How their relationship had changed.

He crossed his arms and tried to stand his ground. “I'm not asking you to. If you want to have dinner with him tonight, I'll make other plans.”

Doreen narrowed her eyes. “What if I want to have dinner with both of you?”

“We're not a family, Mom.” Ean regretted the flash of pain that crossed his mother's round face at his quietly spoken words.

“I'm not trying to replace your father. I just want . . . a friend.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “And I want you to accept that.”

Ean let his arms drop. “How can I do that?” His throat burned at the sadness in his mother's eyes, but he wasn't ready to accept her new relationship.

“Have dinner with us tonight.” Doreen spun on the heels of her white-pink-and-blue cross-training gym shoes. She strode from the kitchen.

His mother sounded impatient. What did she have to be upset about? He was the one stuck in some bizzaro version of his life. He'd thought his mother was a stay-at-home widow. Instead, she had a new man and a full-time job.

Even her appearance had changed. She'd cut her hair. Her wardrobe seemed filled with brighter colors and more modern styles. He hardly recognized her. Was Coach George the cause of all of these changes? Resentment knotted his stomach muscles.

Ean followed her. “I was worried about your being alone. With Dad gone, I thought you'd be at loose ends.”

Doreen looked as confused as Ean felt. “I wasn't.” She collected her purple shoulder bag from the dining room's corner table, then continued toward the coat closet in the front hallway.

“I came home to keep you company.”

She gave him a startled look over her shoulder. “I never asked you to.”

Ean crossed his arms over his chest. “I'm your son. You don't have to ask me.”

“But it's been almost a year.” She pulled her cream-colored wool coat from the closet. “Ean, you needed to come home for you, not for me. And that's fine. This is your home.”

Really? It doesn't feel that way anymore.
“I don't like it that you're working.” He sighed. “Or dating.”

Doreen shrugged into her coat. “I can tell. But I've earned the right to make my own decisions.”

“Am I supposed to stand aside even if I think you're making a mistake, several of them?”

Doreen settled the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “Over the years, I haven't agreed with all of your choices, either. I didn't think you should have accepted the job with the law firm in New York, but I knew it was what you wanted.”

“But I—”

“And it may surprise you to know that Ramona isn't my first choice for you or my second. Or my tenth. But I respected your right to make your own decision. Are you going to deny me the same respect?”

Ean dragged a hand over his hair. “My situation was different. Your grief over losing Dad could be affecting your decision making.”

There was concern in Doreen's eyes as she searched Ean's features. “Has your grief affected your decision making?”

“No.”

“Neither has mine.”

“But you were his wife.”

Doreen sighed. Her gaze dropped to the tiled floor. “And we were together for more than forty years. Still, I considered my options before I made my decisions. These aren't whims. They're choices. Mine.”

Ean had run out of arguments. He was at a loss. “All right, Mom. I'll respect that.”

Doreen stepped forward, cupped the right side of Ean's face with one hand and kissed his left cheek. “You don't have a choice. Have a nice day.” With those words, she left for work.

Ean stared at the closed front door. This homecoming wasn't going at all the way he'd imagined. Had he made a mistake coming back to Trinity Falls?

 

 

Megan looked up from her grandparents' headstones Thursday afternoon. In the distance, a couple of rows away, she saw a solitary mourner standing with his head bowed before a grave site. Ean.

He was so still. Megan hesitated. She didn't want to intrude on his private time, but she sensed his thoughts were troubled. She lowered her gaze to her grandparents' headstones again and silently said good-bye.

She wanted to leave. She actually started to leave. But her steps drew her closer to Ean. “Would you rather be alone?”

He looked up, startled. “I didn't hear you.”

Megan nodded over her shoulder toward the headstones that were imprinted on her heart. “Today would have been my grandparents' fiftieth wedding anniversary.”

Ean returned her smile. “I'm sure they're celebrating together.”

The warmth of his smile and the sincerity of his words stole her breath. Megan swallowed to dislodge the lump in her throat.

“I think so, too.” She was uncomfortable with the emotion he may have heard in her voice. “Is today a special occasion for your father?”

She read again his father's headstone:
Paul Fever, 1948 to 2013, Loving Husband and Father.

His expression grew somber. “I'm just paying my respects.”

It was more than that. Megan heard it in his taut tone. He sounded lost. She fisted her hands deeper into her navy blue winter coat to keep from touching him. That was Ramona's prerogative.

“Your father was well liked and well respected in the community.”

Ean returned his attention to his father's headstone. “Everything seems different with him gone.”

“Everything changed for me when my grandparents died, too.”

“I didn't expect my mother to change as well. I barely recognize her anymore.” He caught her gaze. “You hired her to run the bakery in your bookstore.”

Megan heard the accusation in his words. “Your parents had been high school sweethearts. Your father's death left your mother devastated.”

“You don't have to tell me how my mother felt. I knew she was grieving.” Ean's voice was rough. Was it grief, guilt, shame—all of the above?

“I'm certain Doreen put on a brave face for you. She's your mother. She wouldn't want you to worry about her. But those of us who saw her every day could tell she was hurting. She needed a distraction. I thought Books and Bakery could help.”

Ean rubbed his eyes. “Why didn't someone call me? I would have come home.”

“For how long? Your work schedule only allowed you a few days off at a time. Your mother needed more than that.”

Ean inhaled a sharp breath. Megan's words hit him like a sucker punch. “I'm home now.”

“And Doreen is very happy about that.”

Ean grunted. “Really? I think I may be cramping her style. I'm sure you know she's dating.”

“Coach George. You like him.”

“As my coach, not as my mother's boyfriend.”

“It's a good thing your mother doesn't need your approval.”

Ean flashed back to the words his mother had spoken that morning.

He scowled. Megan had given his mother a job. “Did you encourage her to start dating?”

“Your mother and Coach George?” Her full lips twitched as though she battled a smile. Unnecessary amusement danced in her chocolate eyes.

Ean didn't share her humor. “How well does she even know him?”

“They've known each other since you were in high school.”

He snorted. “Time doesn't determine how well you know a person.”

She had the nerve to laugh. “Then it's a good thing you've come home, since you're such a stellar judge of character.”

Ean didn't have a response. He wondered about the calm he found in Megan's company. Every time he tried to strike out, she found the words to defuse his pain and confusion. How was she able to do that?

He studied his father's headstone. “Did my mother tell you we argued this morning?”

“No. You just did.” Her words were rich with amusement.

“She wants the three of us to have dinner together tonight.” Ean shook his head. “Everything's changed. It's not the same here anymore.”

“The people may have changed, but the town hasn't. Neighbors still keep an eye on each other's kids and property. The town still goes to church Sunday mornings and takes long walks Sunday afternoons. And everybody thinks they know what's best for everyone else.” Megan cocked her head. “Maybe that's what's upsetting you. Doreen's dating without discussing it with you first.”

“That's not true.” Or was it?

“Your mother's happy, Ean. Isn't that all that matters?”

“Of course.”

She eyed him shrewdly. “What would it take to make you happy?”

He wished he knew. Then he had an epiphany. “Come to dinner tonight. That would make me happy.”

She stepped back. Confusion merged with the concern in her eyes. “You can't invite a guest to your mother's house for dinner without asking her first.”

Ean tried a persuasive smile. “If she says yes, will you come? She likes you.”

“And you'd like a shield for the evening.” Megan's voice was as dry as the desert. “I'm sure there's something else I have to do tonight.”

Ean cupped a hand over her left shoulder. When her slender muscles tensed, he let his hand drop. “Please, Megan. It's going to be awkward—for my mother and me. You being there will keep the tension at bay.”

Megan's soft laughter challenged him. “So it's not a shield you're after. It's a referee. That sounds like fun.” She turned to walk away.

Panic chilled him. Ean said good-bye to his father before falling into step beside her. He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his gray winter coat to keep from touching her again. “I only found out a week ago about them dating.”

“You and Coach are both important to her. That's why she wants you to reestablish a relationship.”

“I know, but I'm not ready for this.” Ean scrubbed both palms over his face. “Please come to dinner. I'm not asking for myself. I'm asking for my mother.”

Megan stopped in her tracks. Ean squared his shoulders and waited for her answer. A slight breeze ruffled the dark brown waves of her hair. His gaze followed the delicate line of her profile to her figure, which was masked in a thick navy coat. The memory of her dressed for Halloween as the goddess Isis superimposed itself in his mind. The soft material of her gown had hinted at her slender curves, instead of masking them.

Megan turned and stabbed a finger into his chest. “You'd better be on your best behavior.”

A relieved grin split his face. “I promise.”

Megan sighed again. “All right, then I'll come.”

“Great. It's a date.”

There was something incredibly sexy about her long, slow blink. “This isn't what you expected when you decided to come home, is it?”

Ean let his gaze slide toward a group of trees behind Megan's right shoulder. “I thought things would be the way I'd remembered them.”

He and Ramona would want the same things. His mother would give him her undivided attention. Quincy wouldn't hate his guts.

“It's been fourteen years since you've lived in Trinity Falls. You can't expect people to remain the same. It's human nature to change.”