Chapter Nine
Everly
“Why does he always do this to me?” I wail, wiping my eyes with the tissue Sandra’s just handed me.
“Do what?” she says, giving me a piercing look… one that gets right inside me.
“Make me feel inadequate.”
“Did he do that, or did you? What did he actually say?”
I glance up at Lyla, who’s fixing some pancakes while listening to our conversation.
“He asked where River was, and what I do with her while I’m working.”
“Okay,” Sandra says, giving me an encouraging nod of her head.
“I explained about the setup, and then he offered to help.” I remember his words, and how he hesitated, unsure of what might need doing, or what might be most useful. With hindsight, I ought to have noticed that, and made suggestions, rather than jumping down his throat like I did.
“What did you say?” Sandra asks, and I pause, wishing I’d behaved differently now.
“I told him he couldn’t come back here and act like a father.” She frowns, and Lyla puts down the spoon she’s holding, turning to face me. “I know,” I say, holding up my hand. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Why did you?” Lyla asks.
“Because it felt like he was questioning me over the way I care for River.”
“Was he?” Sandra says.
“He was asking questions.”
“That’s not quite the same thing, though, is it?”
“Maybe not, but it doesn’t excuse what he said next.”
“Which was?”
“He told me he wasn’t acting, and that he could have been a real father before now, if I’d told him about River.”
Sandra pulls a face… one with a pained expression on it, and Lyla shakes her head, picking up the spoon again to get on with her work.
“Hmm… I can see why that would upset you,” Sandra says.
“Even though it’s true?” I surprise myself, and she stares at me, showing she feels the same way.
“Is it?”
“Yes. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying he was blameless. He left me, and if he hadn’t done that, I’d never have been in that situation in the first place…”
“But?” she says, prompting me.
“But I could have called him. I should have called him, and if I had, he could have been here, and we could have been a family.”
My voice cracks and yet more tears fall down my cheeks.
“Is that what’s bothering you the most?” Sandra asks, putting her arm around me. “Is it the fact that you’ve missed out on so much, and now he’s back, you’re being reminded of what might have been?”
“I don’t know. I think I’m too mad at him to work it out.”
“Why are you mad at him, though? Is it for leaving? For criticizing you? Or is it because you’re still worried he’s only interested in River, and not you?”
“That would make me the most selfish mother in the world,” I say, feeling uncomfortable at being so exposed.
“No. It would make you human. We all want to be loved, Everly.”
“I thought I was,” I mumble, crying again.
“You were… probably more than anyone I’ve ever known.”
“Then why did he leave me?”
“I don’t know. You’d have to ask him that. And before you consign your love to the past, remember when he came back here, he didn’t even know River existed. Which means he came back for you. No-one else. Just you.”
Her words echo around my head, as the computer screen pings, announcing another order, and she steps away, unable to leave Lyla to cope alone any longer. I know I should go back out and help Owen, but I can’t be sure if Seth is still there, and I’m not ready to face him. Not yet.
Besides, I need to think, and I wander over to River’s crib, smiling down at her, and wondering if this is as much my fault as Seth’s.
Okay… so I’m not the one who left, but I could have trusted him, and trusted in our love, and called him when I found out I was pregnant. Even if Seth had his suspicions… even if he should have – and could have – come back to find out for himself, he also had every right to expect me to tell him. We both know that. But I didn’t did I? I stayed quiet and left him in the dark. My fears might still feel rational in a small part of my mind, but did I really have the right to keep his child a secret from him, just because I was scared he’d come back for her, and not me? I had visions of him and Helen Rogers in my head at the time, and felt completely justified in my decision, but was it right to let my insecurities get in the way of allowing Seth to be a father?
I don’t know. But now he’s back, that justification feels less solid. It’s like I’m on shifting sands, and every time I see him, they move in a different direction, pulling me one way, and then another. I need some security… the kind of security he used to give me.
Before he left.
It always comes back to that, and I think we need to talk about why he went before I can feel safe with him again.
The thought of feeling safe, of being held in his arms, and knowing he’ll never hurt me feels so alien, and yet I yearn for it. I yearn for him…
There’s no denying it.
“Are you okay?” I jump at the sound of Owen’s voice, right beside me, and turn to look at him. His eyes give away his concern, although I nod my head to reassure him.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Do you need me to help?” I ask, wiping my eyes with the tissue I’m still holding, even though it’s soaking wet.
“In a minute. I just came back here to tell you Seth’s gone.”
“He’s gone?” Even I can hear the panic in my voice, and I notice the corners of Owen’s lips twitch upward into a slight smile.
“Yeah. He asked me to say he’s sorry. He’s gone back to his hotel room to think things through.”
That initial panic multiplies by about a million times. “I don’t like the sound of that. Is… Is he coming back?”
Owen’s smile fills out. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”
“Have a little faith, will you? He said he’ll be back later, and that I had to tell you he loves you.”
Relief washes through me, and I sigh it out. I might still be a little mad at him, but it feels like we’re navigating a minefield at the moment, and we need to get through it together. It’s the only way if we’re gonna have a chance… for all our sakes, not just mine and River’s, but Seth’s too.
“We should get back out there,” I say, nodding toward the swing door. “Although I think I might need to clean myself up first.”
“Probably,” he says, nodding his head, and disappears through to the front of the shop. River stirs slightly, but doesn’t wake up, and I take a few moments to dash to the restroom and make myself look vaguely presentable.
“Can I say something?” Owen says, coming over to me.
We’ve slowed to our usual mid-morning dribble of customers, and I glance up at him, taking a welcome break from cleaning down the barista machine.
“Of course.”
“It’s about Seth.”
It’s as though he expects me to change my mind once I know the subject matter, but I’m not going to. If anything, I’m even more intrigued, and I put down the cloth I’ve been using to polish the chrome, and fold my arms across my chest, before realizing how defensive that probably looks, and putting them in my pockets instead.
“What about him?” I say, remembering to talk.
“I think he’s okay.” He moves a little closer, lowering his voice. “He may have got things wrong in the past, but he’s sorry, and he’s trying to make it right… so you might wanna think about cutting him some slack.”
I wish I’d stuck with the defensive pose now. Standing like this, I feel a little exposed, bordering on vulnerable. I don’t want Owen to know that, though. I’ve never revealed the real me to anyone other than Seth, and I’m not going to start now. So, rather than changing my posture, I just tip my head at him. “I’m trying,” I say. “But it’s hard when we get so little time to talk.”
“I felt like that when I first met Tomas. It was tough learning to trust after everything that had happened with Colin, but Tomas convinced me I had to make the time if I wanted to be happy again. It’s the same with you. You need to prioritize… show Seth he’s worth it.”
I can’t help recalling the fight Seth and I had on the day he left, and how he told me I never spared any time for him, wondering if that was how I made him feel back then… like he wasn’t worth it.
I turn my head away, remembering the scene upstairs, and how he told me he was sick of coming second. I blamed him for asking too much, but was he? Was he really?
I shake my head, feeling the full scrutiny of Owen’s gaze, and let my eyes settle on table six.
“I need to clear those cups,” I say, bustling away before he can say anything else.
The table needs a wipe, too, and once I’ve done that and taken the cups to the kitchen, I return to the barista machine, only to find Owen waiting for me.
“Are you like this with him, too?” he asks.
“Like what?”
“Always finding excuses not to talk.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are,” he says. “Those cups could have waited.”
“Maybe they could.”
“But you didn’t wanna talk?” I shrug my shoulders and he shakes his head. “Don’t push him away, Everly. He may have screwed up, but we all make mistakes. Seth knows he did, but remember, he came back. Not only that, but he’s still here, even though he said he had to go back to Concord today. That has to mean something.”
“Does it?”
“Yes. It means he wants this. He wants you. Don’t forget that.”
I let out a sigh and nod my head, and rather than push me any further, he goes into the kitchen and leaves me alone for a while.
I lean back against the countertop, wondering if he’s right. Have I been pushing Seth away? I know I did on Saturday, when he first came back. But that was justified… at least in my mind. I was scared he’d find out about River, and needed to think through how to tell him about her. What about yesterday, though? We went for a walk, didn’t we? Okay, so I put a time limit on it, using River as an excuse… again. And looking back, I don’t know why I did that. After all, we both know there are things we need to talk about, which we haven’t even touched on yet. Was it that I was scared of what I might hear, or was it that I was frightened of letting him get too close, knowing he was leaving again? He hasn’t left, of course, but I wasn’t to know he’d change his plans, was I? So, was that it? Was I protecting myself from the only man who’s ever made me feel safe?
It’s bizarre.
But that’s exactly what it feels like.
I think that was the busiest lunchtime we’ve had so far this year. It probably wasn’t helped by River waking up at just after one-thirty, which meant poor Owen has had to manage by himself for a while, until I can safely settle her in her crib and leave her under the watchful gaze of Sandra and Lyla, both of whom are still rushed off their feet. Harriet should have been here, but she called in sick, and Teresa couldn’t cover. It’s not been ideal for anyone.
Going through into the coffee shop, I let out a sigh at the chaos that’s ensued in my absence, giving Owen an apologetic smile, which he returns, before I set about clearing some tables. Piled high with plates and cups, I go back out to the kitchen, where Lyla groans at me, although she keeps it quiet so as not to disturb River.
“Thanks for that,” she says, glancing at the dirty dishes.
“Anytime.”
I’m about to return to my duties when Owen comes bursting through the swing door, his eyes settling on me.
“You’re needed,” he says.
“I am?”
“Yeah.”
I square my shoulders, wondering what can have happened, and follow him out through the door, my breath catching in my throat when I see Seth standing over by the counter. His hair is slightly damp at the ends, suggesting he’s just taken a shower. Not only that, but he’s changed out of the t-shirt he was wearing this morning, and beneath his leather jacket, he’s wearing a button-down white shirt, which fits to his muscular chest like a second skin.
Owen ignores us both, and wanders over toward table five, which needs clearing, while Seth steps closer, looking down into my eyes.
“Hello,” he says.
“Hello. You’ve just missed River. She was awake until about ten minutes ago, but she’s gone back to sleep now.”
He tips his head to the right. “That’s okay. I came to see you… although I guess it would be nice to meet her properly sometime, when her eyes are open. I don’t even know what color they are yet.”
“They’re blue, although I’ve been told they might not stay that way.”
He smiles, moving closer still. “Given that your eyes are blue, and so are mine, I think it’s a fairly safe bet our daughter will take after us.”
“Fairly,” I murmur, captivated by his deep sapphire eyes and the sadness behind them.
“I’m sorry about this morning,” he says. “I didn’t mean to criticize.”
“I didn’t mean to over-react.”
He smiles, his surprise quite obvious, and he leans in a little. “Can we talk?”
I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve asked each other that, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that we make the most of this opportunity.
“I think we should.”
He glances around. “Do you need me to wait until it’s quietened down a bit?”
“Owen should be able to cope. We can sit at table ten.”
It’s free, and it’s one of the ones I cleared just now. “Lead the way,” he says, making it clear he doesn’t know which table I’m talking about, and I step forward, heading toward the back of the coffee shop. He follows close behind, pulling out the chair on the left for me to sit before taking a seat opposite me.
I didn’t get around to wiping down the table and I pull out a cloth from my apron pocket, flicking it over the crumb-laden surface, just as Seth grabs my wrist.
“Leave it,” he says, taking the cloth and dumping it to one side, as he turns my hand over, clasping it in his. “We’re here to talk.”
I realize I’m deflecting again, and I sit up straight, looking into his eyes, just as Owen appears beside us, bearing two steaming cups of coffee.
“We didn’t ask for those,” I say, looking up at him.
“No, but I always find it useful to have something to do with my hands.” He smiles down at me, and then at Seth. “Although you seem to be managing okay all by yourselves.”
Seth smiles, and I feel myself blush as Owen puts down the cups and turns away.
“I never thought I’d say this, but I like him,” Seth says, surprising me.
“Don’t fall off your chair, but he likes you, too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
I’m not about to reveal the content of my conversation with Owen. Aside from it being embarrassing, I feel as though Seth and I have more important things to talk about.
“Can I assume he gave you my message?” he asks.
“Yes.” I take a sip of hot coffee, putting the cup down again, and then say, “Did going back to your hotel help?”
“Not as much as I’d hoped. I fell asleep.” I have to smile, and he shakes his head. “Not the moment I walked in the door, you understand?”
“Oh? What did you do the moment you walked in the door?”
“I beat myself up for a while… metaphorically, because I knew I’d fucked up. Again.” I suck in a breath, but before I can say anything to absolve him of his guilt – or at least some of it – he says, “Then I paced the floor, trying to work out why we keep getting it wrong.”
“Did you come to any conclusions?” I ask, because I’d like to hear them if he did.
He shakes his head. “No. I just made myself dizzy.”
I have to smile, and he smiles back. “Oh, dear.”
“That was when I realized I should probably eat something, so I ordered up some breakfast, which was nowhere near as good as the French toast I’d been expecting to eat here, but was okay… and after that I lay on the bed.”
“And fell asleep?”
“Yeah. I was more tired than I thought. I was certainly too tired to think anymore, so I guess my body decided sleep was the best option.”
“And did it help?”
“In a way. When I woke up, you were the first thing on my mind.” He shrugs his shoulders. “That’s not remotely unusual, but I think it made me realize I was done with just thinking about you, and dreaming about you, and fantasizing about you. I want to be with you, Everly.”
“I feel like there’s still so much we haven’t said.”
“There is,” he says, staring at me, letting out a sigh, and I wonder if he’s going to say that’s because I’ve made excuses not to talk… if he’s going to blame me. For a moment, he doesn’t say another word, and I feel slightly nervous, until he sits forward and whispers, “What do you want, Everly? I know what I want, and I think I’ve made that pretty clear, but I’m not so sure about you. I get that I have responsibilities to you, and to River, but what I don’t understand is what you want from me?”
“I don’t need your money,” I say, blurting out the first thing that comes into my head. I feel cornered, and I guess it shows, as he sits back, shaking his head, and I wish I’d taken my time before answering him.
“Did I say anything about money?” he replies calmly. “I mean, obviously, I’ll pay for whatever you need, but that’s not what I’m talking about here. All I need to know is, do you want me, and if you do, how? Do you want me as a man? Or just as a father to our daughter?”
“If that was what I wanted, I could have contacted you before now,” I say, feeling as though I’m stating the obvious. If all I wanted was a father to our daughter, I would have called him, regardless of my fear that he’d be coming back for her and not for me. Surely he realizes that.
“I know,” he says. “But you didn’t contact me, did you?”
“Are we gonna do this again?” I pull my hand from his and lean back. “Are you gonna throw that at me every time we talk?”
“No. I wasn’t throwing anything at you this time. I’m just stating the fact. You didn’t contact me… and you had your reasons. I understand that. But it makes me wonder if you want me at all, which is why I’m asking the question, Everly. I need to know where I stand.”
He’s got me confused, as well as scared, and I shake my head. “You can’t come in here and expect me to answer a question like that.”
He sighs again, shaking his head this time, and I wonder what he’s going to say… except he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he reaches across the table, taking my hand in his again, before he stands and pulls me to my feet.
“What are you doing?” I say, surprised by this sudden turn of events, but he doesn’t reply and drags me toward the swing door, holding it open as he propels me through.
River’s asleep in her crib, and Seth stops for a moment, glancing down at her. She’s lying on her back, her eyes closed, her lips pouting, and has both arms above her head, which is fairly normal for her. She looks adorable, and Seth lets out a breath, turning to face me and giving my hand a squeeze, although he still doesn’t utter a sound and just pulls me further into the kitchen.
“Sandra,” he says by way of greeting and then turns his head. “Lyla.”
“Hello,” Sandra replies, looking from him to me, while Lyla just gawps from her place by the sink.
“We’ll be out back,” Seth says, dragging me over to the door, which he opens, letting me pass through ahead of him, before he closes it behind us.
We’re in the narrow alley that leads to the track behind the property, and he pulls me almost to the end, and then pushes me up against the wall.
“I’m not having this conversation in front of half the town,” he growls. “Especially when we both know the other half will get to hear about it before we’ve finished drinking our coffee.” I’m still trying to catch my breath, and I stare up at him, unable to speak. “You keep telling me what I can’t do,” he says. “You’ve been doing it since I got back here on Saturday. I can’t say this. I can’t ask that. So, tell me, Everly… what can I do?”