Chapter 7
The next morning, Sean found himself circling the parking lot at the high school gym. The place was packed with vehicles in all sizes and colors. If the fact that he couldn’t find an empty spot was any gauge, he’d have to brand Monica’s event a resounding success.
“Da Da Da.”
The squeals from the back seat drew Sean’s gaze to his rearview mirror.
Jace’s blue eyes met his in the reflection of the second mirror that hung from the seat’s headrest. The boy pulled at the restraints with one hand while the other waved a sippy cup like someone with a flag signaling the start of a race.
“Da Da Da.”
“Hang on, buddy, we’ll get out in a minute.”
Jace sent his sippy cup flying into the floorboard as his face crumpled in frustration.
Sean had just a second to imagine the carpet behind the passenger seat sticky with apple juice before brake lights five cars up the row flashed to life.
Someone was about to vacate a parking space.
He stopped to wait while frowning at Jace in the mirror.
“You better hope that lid stayed on, little man.” He tapped his fingers on the wheel while the huge black SUV backed out and drove away.
After sliding into the spot, Sean killed the engine and hurried around to the rear passenger side door.
The cup was retrieved with a sigh of relief.
It was, thankfully, empty with the lid still firmly attached.
Jace’s impatience quickly turned to giggles. He had the drill down pat. No motion plus Daddy at the door equaled impending freedom. The little boy stretched forward, hands grasping at the air.
Sean handed Jace his empty cup. “Just a second. Let me get the stroller out.” He closed the door, shaking his head when his son’s face screwed up in a mighty wail.
Sometimes he wished he could clone himself like he’d seen in an old Michael Keaton movie.
Instead, he was sentenced to the role of Mr. Mom, another Keaton classic.
He pulled the lightweight stroller out of the trunk and depressed the levers that released the wheels. Those were funny movies, but life wasn’t a movie. Grief was a part of the hand he’d been dealt, but if he said he wasn’t worried about what this single-parent gig would do to Jace, he’d be lying.
Sean hoped he wouldn’t ruin his son’s life too much. Given his upbringing and his time in the ministry, it didn’t surprise him when a verse from Proverbs popped into his head. ‘Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old, he will not depart from it.’
Are you living the example you want your son to follow?
Sean recognized the voice. He still believed in God even if he wasn’t speaking to Him right now. Deciding to think about that later, he focused on the task at hand.
Once he got Jace into the stroller, the backpack stored beneath, he headed for the front door.
He hadn’t planned to return to the school today.
Craft shows weren’t anywhere on his list of fun things to do with a baby.
But Thanksgiving was less than a week away.
Mom had been doing so much babysitting while he delivered food that he needed to do something extra nice for her.
He figured he could find a holiday centerpiece and support Monica at the same time.
Not that he was here to see Monica, but knowing that he probably would, quickened his step. Her ready smile and blue eyes exuded a warmth he was finding it harder and harder to resist.
He reached the door, pulled it open, and stepped out of the way. A couple of smiling women followed by two gloomy men exited the building.
One of the men lifted a large bag. “Do we need a fifth quilt?”
“We will once I pick out the paint for the bedroom.”
The other man shifted his packages and patted the first man’s back. “Another Saturday down the honey-do drain for you.”
The second woman thanked Sean before smiling over her shoulder. “Don’t be snide, dear. I bought paint last week.” She lifted an arrangement of white and purple roses. “Why do you think I wanted these?”
Sean watched the men walk away with slightly slumped shoulders. Their banter cast a shadow on his morning. He missed being part of a couple, chores, shopping, schlepping packages and all.
He pushed Jace inside. Bright colors and floral smells assaulted his senses as he walked down the first row of vendors.
The gym had been transformed into a wonderland, looking nothing like it had last night.
Shoppers were so packed in he had to move at the speed of the crowd.
The tables overflowed with everything imaginable—candles, jewelry, home-stitched items for every conceivable use.
One hawked plasticware, another sold makeup.
The tables held all sorts of lotions, potions, notions, flowers. ..
He was halfway down the second row when he realized he hadn’t been looking for centerpieces. He’d been looking for a cap of bright red hair.
Whoa. What was he doing?
He was Monica’s friend, nothing else. He’d helped her organize.
It was only natural that he wanted to see how the event was going.
Besides, he was on a mission. He took the time to look around.
He’d already passed two tables loaded with flowers, and he hadn’t even paused to browse.
He backtracked to the nearest one and smiled when he recognized Ember Abbott, the owner of Crafted with Love.
“Hey there, who’s minding the store?”
“We closed so we could be here for the show. It’s a chance to support the community and we get to meet some customers who might not find their way into the shop. Can I help you with something in particular?”
“Actually...” Before he could continue, he caught a glimpse of red hair in another aisle, going in the opposite direction. He stood on his toes to keep track of Monica but lost her in the crowd.
“Sean?”
Something red flashed in Sean’s peripheral vision. He turned in that direction, quickly disappointed that it wasn’t Monica. He slumped in disappointment.
“Are you OK?” Ember asked.
Sean collected himself, not at all certain what was happening this morning. He was on a mission, a flower mission. That was his story, and he was sticking to it.
Even as he bent over Ember’s selection of centerpieces, a quiet voice whispered up from his heart. You keep telling yourself that.
***
MONICA SAT BACK IN a folding metal chair, thankful for the opportunity to rest her feet after a crazy morning.
There’d been a few hiccups—a couple of outlets that wouldn’t work, someone with a broken display, and a child who had accidentally tipped over a tableful of pot holders and tea towels.
Considering all the breakables in the building, that could have been much worse.
But as it inched closer to ten a.m. the fair seemed to have found its groove.
She tipped the chair back, rested her head against the wall, and allowed her eyes to drift closed. Her late night and early morning were catching up with her.
As it often did lately, the second her mind was at rest, the enigma of Sean Conklin surfaced front and center. He was the handsomest man she’d met in a long time. Tall and broad-shouldered. More importantly, he had an innate kindness that left her wanting to get to know him better.
But behind that smile lived a sadness that reached all the way to his heart. She felt sorry for him. No one should lose a spouse that early in life.
Then there was the way Sean interacted with Jace.
He was gentle and funny and proud in seemingly equal measures.
The way he’d reacted to Jace’s first steps last night had been.
.. Well, she didn’t really have a word for it, but she’d wished she could share that moment on a deeper level than friendship.
She’d wanted to hug the stuffing out of him.
And speaking of friendship...was that what they were edging into? Bobbie seemed to think he felt more for Monica than he’d let on.
What if her friend was right? Was there any room in Sean’s mourning for something new? Did she want there to be?
She’d never been so conflicted in her life.
Monica didn’t have any answers. She only knew that his smile left her breathless and his slightest touch gave her goose bumps. All she could think of was kissing him right on the mouth to see if he felt and tasted as good as he looked.
“Monica?”
She opened her eyes at the sound of her name. Sean’s face hovered a few inches above hers.
Had she conjured him?
She lifted a hand, intending to lay it on his cheek. Surely, that would dispel the dream.
***
MONICA’S EYES OPENED slowly at Sean’s whispered word. He hadn’t wanted to surprise her. Her chair leaned precariously against the wall. If she jerked, she might fall.
Her unfocused gaze met his and held steady, her expression slightly confused.
“Sean.”
The word was so much more than his name on her lips. The sound was tremulous and vulnerable. It tightened his insides, and for a minute, his eyes shifted to the contours of her delicate lips. Longing filled him.
She shifted and raised a hand.
Her chair legs screeched on the floor, sliding forward... Out from under her.
Sean grabbed the sides of the chair and kept it upright.
They looked at each other, and the moment felt suspended in time. His feelings, which he didn’t want to admit existed, were met and matched by hers.
This wasn’t nothing. This was...something, and if he surrendered to it, it could be everything.
But a crash burst the bubble of intimacy. The chaos of the event sprang back to life around them.
And a sudden punch of loathing hit him square in the gut. Not for her, but for himself. What was wrong with him?
Sean’s heart was thumping like he was on mile twenty-five of a marathon.
Monica looked shocked to find him there, looking at him with startled eyes, her lips drawn tight. Her nails bit into Sean’s arms while he held the chair steady on either side.
“Whoa,” he said.
“What?” she asked at the same time.
They released each other and sat back, Monica in the chair, Sean on his heels.
A laugh bubbled from Monica’s lips. “I think you just saved my life.”
“Saved you from a bump on the head, anyway. What were you doing asleep in the corner? Aren’t you supposed to be running this show?”
Monica looked at her watch. “This says five after ten. I swear I wasn’t in that chair a full five minutes.”
“Five minutes or thirty, you were out.”
Monica made a step-back motion with her hand. “Let me up.”
As if to remind the adults of his presence Jace let loose a sudden burst of indignant tears.
Sean was still turning when Monica shot past him, focus on the stroller.
“You brought the little guy to see me. Don’t cry, baby, I’m here.
” She fiddled with the stroller’s safety straps and, once Jace was free, swept him into her arms. “You want some freedom, don’t you?
” She looked at Sean. “Has he slowed down?”
Sean didn’t need to be told what she meant.
“Not even a little. I thought I’d have to coax him to show Mom and Dad his new skills, but I carried him into the house and set him on the floor, and he was on his feet before I could even get them into the room.
I don’t think he even remembers what crawling was. ”
Monica lifted the baby over her head and twirled. “You’re such a smart guy.” She lowered him and nuzzled his neck. “I think I love you a whole bunch.” Her attention went back to Sean. “What are you guys doing here? You don’t seem like a craft show kind of guy.”
Sean brought Monica up to speed on his mission.
“Have you found anything?” she asked.
“Ember Abbott is holding an arrangement for me at her booth. I didn’t want to carry it around while I...” His words faded. He wasn’t about to admit to Monica that he’d been looking for her. He needed to clear that nonsense out of his head before it got him into trouble. “...finished shopping.”
“Ember does amazing work. If you want a little something for Jace, there’s a booth in the back corner with some nice wooden toys.
” Monica kissed the baby and handed him to Sean.
“I’ll show you if you want to walk with me.
I need to make another round.” She stood to the side while Sean buckled Jace back into the stroller.
“That’s a top-line model.” She was eyeing the stroller. “Do you and Jace run together?”
Sean clicked the buckle in place and stood.
“Almost every morning at home, but not since we came back to Garfield. Mom likes having Jace to herself in the mornings. Of course, she has him in the afternoon and most evenings too. I need to find some daycare, but every time I mention it, she gives me the look.”
“Ah, the Mom look. I know it well. You’ve only been home a week.” Monica motioned him forward, and he fell into step beside her.
“True. She’ll get tired of him eventually.”
“I wouldn’t count on that.”
They turned at the end of the aisle, and Monica pointed toward the corner. “There’s the booth I told you about. I’m glad you stopped by. Will I see you tomorrow at church?”
A no hovered on Sean’s lips. What came out was an enthusiastic, “Yes.”
“Good.” She took a step away but then spun back. “Why don’t the three of us run together some morning next week?”
“We’d like that.”
Her smile turned her eyes a darker shade of blue. “It’s a date then.” She blew a kiss to Jace and hurried on her way.
Sean was left to consider her words. A date.
It was a phrase he’d used himself. She probably didn’t mean anything by it.
Or did she?