Chapter 7 Oh, That White Hat
SEVEN
OH, THAT WHITE HAT
CINDY
All the official obligations were over: the funeral, the shower, figuring out a plan for Dad’s house and all his things. Now I could relax and enjoy a final evening with my sisters before Marcie left the next day back to Boston.
Daphne and Gabby stayed home, still in high school and not old enough for drinking yet. But Marcie, Megan, and I hit the Rusty Bucket for wings and a beer. Well, a beer for me anyway.
As I gulped down a few sips, Marcie’s tongue dashed out, wetting her lips.
“Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a cold beer right now. Cin, at least let me put that mug up to my forehead, will you?”
After another sip, I handed it over. “Note to self, if I ever get preggo, make sure I do it in the winter. You two look miserable.”
“Yes. Smart plan, although I don’t think we’ve seen a spring this hot in ages. My first two babes were winter babies, you know. This one—Holy Mother of . . . ” Meg sighed and patted her round belly.
“Speaking of pregnant, I thought you never wanted kids, Cin? You and James—” Marcie dared bring up a sore subject, but quickly caught herself. I changed topics.
“What’s with this heat wave, anyway?” I asked, fanning myself with the beer coaster. The bar temperature was tolerable until I realized Ryan was leaning at the bar, staring at me. I burned up, like I had a fever.
The fact he wore a sleeveless plaid shirt didn’t phase me—although why must he always be showing off his guns? Maybe they didn’t make shirts anymore with sleeves big enough to fit his biceps.
Seeing his ass in Wrangler jeans didn’t bother me, either. Although he certainly possessed a fine specimen of a male ass, just like he did in football pants our senior year.
Gah, it’d made me jealous when my friends would comment about Ryan’s ass. They’d ask if he and I were an item, and of course, I’d said no. Any of them could have dated him, and some certainly tried. Even Trudy.
He’d always pushed them away. Hardly dated anyone while we were in high school, and I found out why on our prom night.
“It’s always been you, Cynthia. I love you,” he’d said.
I’d bold-faced laughed at him. “Ryan, I’ll never love you. You’re my friend, that’s all.”
In my ears, I’d heard his heart break right there in front of me as if it were glass shattering on a tiled floor. I hadn’t meant to be so cruel, I simply couldn’t break the vow I’d made to Mom to get as far away from small town life as possible.
Loving him would have only made it harder to leave. By that point of our senior year, he’d made it clear he wasn’t going to college, and wasn’t taking any of the football scholarships they had offered him.
I’d called him a fool. But he made his choice. His life was here, mine wasn’t. End of story.
So why did his damn white cowboy hat knock me off kilter tonight, seeing him at the bar? I knew that hat, affectionately termed Our Party Hat, in our younger days. We shared that hat at concerts, rodeos, and keg parties in the fields.
It looked better on me back then, but now? He won the prize for the sexiest man in a hat at the bar, in this town—crap, in the entire world.
His eyes hadn’t left mine, and I forgot all about breathing, until Marcie slapped my arm.
“Jeez, breathe, Cin. What’s got you all hot and bothered—oh.” Her knowing eyes shifted between me and Ryan as he arrived beside our table.
“Hey ladies.” He tipped his hat. He Tipped. His. Hat. When the hell did Ryan learn to smolder-smile with the left corner of his mouth while tipping his hat with his right hand?
“Well, hi there. Look at you, cutie pie. Out to find a lady to snuggle up to tonight?” Meg winked at him. She always was the boldly flirty one between us, and apparently marriage, two babies, and one on the way didn’t stop her.
My brows shot up. “Uh, I thought you and Trudy . . .”
“You thought wrong. Look, can we talk?” His voice projected growly, and he held out his big, rough hand. All I could do was stare at it and wonder if hand size related to the size of his—Marcie gave my shoulder a shove.
“Of course Cindy wants to talk. Go on, girl.”
No, what I wanted was to get a grip on this situation, and to stop getting all hot and bothered every time my high school crush showed up. I ignored his hand and headed out the door, hearing every stomp of his boots on the floor behind me.
What are you doing? Tempting fate, that’s what. Any amount of time with Ryan alone could only end up badly. Then all the reasons I broke things off with James flooded back, helping me project those feelings onto Ryan. I crossed my arms in the middle of the parking lot.
“Let me get this straight. You’re with Trudy. Yet you’re here at the bar looking for someone to cuddle with tonight?”
“No. Those were Megan’s stupid words, not mine. I came here for a cold beer after a hot day working on air conditioners.” His face reddened.
“So you’re here when you could be home with your precious baby and your-your girlfriend, er wife, or whatever Trudy is?” I hadn’t even thought to look for rings on their fingers earlier at the shower. I checked now, and he didn’t wear one, but neither had James . . . and that didn’t mean shit.
“She is not my wife—so help me God, I don’t know why I feel the need to explain this to you.”
“Then don’t save your breath.” I brushed past him, but he caught my arm, bringing my backside to his front.
“Yes, Trudy and I had a one-night stand that produced our little girl. I wouldn’t change that for the world.” His hot breath scampered across my neck in a rush, while his hand encircling my arm sent more waves of currents through me. By the time he released me, my panties were soaked.
I spun around but stopped, not even remembering what I was going to say in view of him removing his hat, running a hand through his thick, dark hair, and putting the hat back on.
“Look. After I found out she was pregnant, I stopped seeing anybody, because my daughter means everything to me. But for Trudy, I didn’t realize I meant more to her. She asked me to marry her last year.”
I snorted. “Oh Ryan, your story just keeps getting better and better.”
“Why? You got something against a modern woman asking a guy to marry her?”
“No.” I shifted awkwardly on my feet.
He sighed and put his hands on his hips. “I waited for you, Cynthia. Hoping one day you might find your way back here and to me. But when Trudy asked, I realized for our daughter’s sake, I couldn’t wait for you anymore.”
“So you’re engaged?” My eyes burned in a situation so familiar to me.
But no, this wasn’t about my ex, James. Or me.
This was about that little girl called Rose.
“You know what? Don’t answer that. You’re right, your daughter is the most important thing here, and she should have her parents together and caring for her, like a happy family. ”
He called after me, but I ran back into the bar and locked myself in the bathroom. I hugged myself against the wall of the stall, sneering at all my regrets.
Between James in New York City, and Ryan in Glendale Falls, I lost my way. As if the road ahead had disappeared, no map was in sight. For the first time in my life, I didn’t know if I should turn left or right? Brake hard or slam the gas pedal down all the way?
The only thing for certain, with three months ahead of me in Glendale Falls, I’d better find some answers.