Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Max couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun. After Lanie, Nate, and Rose returned from the hayride, they met the rest of the group at the picnic tables. Lanie and Nate each carried a pumpkin because Lanie had insisted they needed to carve at least two for Halloween. While she’d chosen a taller pumpkin with a more oval shape, Nate’s choice was short, squat, and fat. Or as Carissa said, “pleasantly plump.”
“We should pick up those pumpkin-carving kits at the store before we go,” Lanie said, setting her pumpkin on the table before sliding onto the bench and helping herself to some funnel cake.
Max raised an eyebrow. “You never said anything about carving some intricate design.”
Her lower lip pushed out in a pout, and he was reminded of when she was younger and could convince him to do anything she wanted. He could already feel himself caving. Clearly, not much had changed in the intervening years.
“But the triangle eyes and nose with a mostly toothless grin is overdone,” she whined.
“Are you kidding?” Steven asked, admiring the pumpkin Rose had gotten for the two of them. “It’s a classic.”
As his children continued to bicker over the best pumpkin design, Max whispered to Carissa, “Either way this goes, I’m betting I’ll be carving all of the pumpkins.”
Her eyes twinkled in amusement. “You could have said no.”
He sighed. “True.” But then he waved his hand. “I’ll do anything to see her happy, though.”
“Who knew you were such an old softy?” Carissa teased.
“Keep that to yourself,” he grumbled. “I’ve got a reputation to protect.”
“So, who’s up for the pie-eating contest?” Steven asked as he clambered over the picnic table bench.
Max patted his stomach. “I’m still full of the funnel cake, but you go on ahead.”
Rose and Lanie exchanged a look. “How about we cheer you on from the sidelines?”
“Aw, come on,” Steven said, his face falling. Then he turned to Nate. “What about you? Are you game?”
Though it was clear from his expression that trying to quickly eat a pie was just about the last thing Nate wanted to do, he gave a reluctant nod. “Sure, I’ll give it a go.”
“Awesome!” Steven pumped his fist in the air, which almost caused him to lose his balance. Nate, Lanie, and Rose followed him toward the tent where the contest was being held, leaving Carissa and Max alone.
“What would you like to do?” he asked her as he offered his arm.
“Let’s visit the petting zoo.”
He steered them in that direction. It was one of the more popular attractions, especially among the children. They bought some feed and took it to a couple of goats hanging out near the edge of the pen.
“I’ve always wanted a goat,” Carissa said with a happy sigh.
“That’s an unusual pet.”
Her eyes remained on the goats. “It is, but they’re more than pets. You can milk them, and they can be like miniature lawn mowers, if you think about it.”
Max laughed. “I suppose that’s true.” He cleared his throat. “Chuck didn’t want them?”
“He did, but we didn’t have the room or the time it would have taken to care for them.” She raised her face and met his gaze. “Our retirement plan was to buy some land for goats, a garden, and maybe even a horse.”
“Oh,” he said, unsure of what else to do. Internally, he cringed. It seemed like one of those moments where he should either say something comforting about her late husband or maybe even change the subject so she didn’t have to dwell on the loss. But he’d never been especially good at knowing what to say or do in such situations.
“Anyway, I doubt I could afford something like that on my own,” she continued, turning back to the goats.
He shifted uncomfortably. Was she hoping he would offer to help fulfill that dream? Wouldn’t that be awkward, since she’d planned to do it with another man? It felt too soon to be talking about the future in that way.
“Did you have a plan like that with Melody?” she asked when he didn’t say anything.
“Uh, not really. I looked forward to the day when the kids were grown and it would just be the two of us.” He shuffled his feet. “But she was hoping to travel more, and it’s not my thing.”
Standing, she brushed her hands on her pants. “Well, you’re retired now and soon to be an empty nester. Have you made any plans for after Lanie is married?”
He didn’t want to talk about how much he was dreading it. When Lanie had announced her engagement, he’d expected the planning to take at least a year. After all, Rose and Steven had taken two years to plan their wedding. Then, Lanie had initially planned to get married on her mother’s birthday, which hadn’t gone over well. When Rose had recommended December, a part of Max died. So little time left before she would be too busy for her old man.
“I haven’t given it much thought,” he finally admitted. Forcing a smile, he gestured to the goats. “But I’m not opposed to trying out life with goats.” Her face contorted, and he worried he’d said the wrong thing.
“We should probably get back to the others,” she said before she walked away.
Stifling a sigh, he trudged after her. Way to ruin an otherwise perfect day. Though he wasn’t sure exactly what he’d done wrong. Was it the combined future that scared her off or his attempt to co-opt a plan she’d had with her late husband? He supposed either could have caused her negative reaction.
He hurried to catch up with her. “I’m sorry if I came on too strong back there.”
“It’s okay. You were mostly joking.” Her eyes met his briefly before refocusing on the path before them. “It hit a little close to home because I haven’t given up on the dreams I had with Chuck, but I’m also not sure I’d want to share them with someone else.”
“I understand,” he said, and he did, even if it hurt. “Maybe we can come up with some new dreams of our own.”
A small smile lit up her face. “I’d like that.”
The next day, Max was in the kitchen, putting the breaded chicken in the fryer, when the doorbell rang. He hurried over to let Carissa in.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” he said with a smile as he took her coat. His heart stopped as he took in her outfit. Her blue sweaterdress seemed to hug every curve, and it matched the deep blue of her eyes. “You look beautiful.”
Her cheeks flushed pink as she stepped around him into the kitchen. “Can I help?”
“The potatoes should be cool enough to mix with the rest of the ingredients.” He gestured to the colander in the sink.
She shook out the colander to rid it of excess water before dumping the potatoes into a bowl. Then she mixed in the rest of the ingredients of the potato salad. They worked together in comfortable silence.
Max realized that was something he and Melody had rarely done. When the kids were young, Melody stayed home with them and cooked dinner around Max’s shift work as an electrical lineman. When she went back to work, he took over the cooking whenever he was home. Their schedules didn’t allow them many opportunities to cook together. An ache developed in his chest as he supposed that fact basically summed up their marriage. Like their schedules, they were never in sync.
“It’s been a long time since I cooked with someone,” Carissa said as if reading his mind.
“Oh?” He checked the chicken. “You and Chuck cooked together often?”
“Sort of. He did most of the cooking. I was relegated to side tasks like chopping or putting together a salad.” She smiled wistfully. “But I loved spending time with him in the kitchen. It was our way of realigning after being away from each other all day.”
The ache in Max’s chest grew. From the way Carissa talked, he could tell hers had been a happy marriage, and he envied her. Though he and Melody had parted on good terms, they’d managed to reconcile only right before they’d run out of time.
“But it also caused most of our fights,” Carissa continued, a hint of amusement in her voice.
“Fights?” Max turned toward her with a raised eyebrow.
“Oh yes. He was a much more by-the-book cook than I was. If a recipe called for a pinch of salt, he would ensure it had exactly one pinch.” She rolled her eyes. “It didn’t matter that such forms of measurement are less than accurate or that some recipes suggested adding salt to taste.”
“And I take it you were much less stringent in the kitchen?”
She laughed. “That’s putting it mildly. I saw a meme on social media recently that said something about adding spices to a dish until my ancestors tell me ‘That’s enough, child.’” Her smile widened. “That fits me perfectly.”
“I’ve never been much for recipes either, which has been my downfall. At least, if you ask Lanie.” He grimaced. “But I’ve forced myself to learn average cooking times, so I don’t burn things as much as I used to.”
“For which I’m sure your daughter is grateful.”
“I hope so,” he said.
The first batch of chicken was done, and Max carefully removed the pieces from the fryer. After placing them on a paper towel to soak up the excess grease, he added the next batch of chicken pieces to the oil. The pan popped and sizzled with each new addition.
While the chicken cooked, he grabbed two plates and silverware before setting the table. The kitchen had warmed considerably with the heat from the stove, and he pushed his sleeves up in an attempt to cool his skin.
“Would you like some wine?” he asked with trepidation. He was more of a beer guy and had no idea what sort of wine should be served with fried chicken, but Lanie had several bottles of red and white in the small wine cabinet she’d insisted on buying after moving in.
“Mm, wine makes me sleepy. I’ll stick with water.”
A wave of relief flowed over him as he took out two glasses and filled them with ice and water from the fridge. He set them on the table along with the bowl of potato salad.
“The chicken is almost ready,” he called. “If you want to grab a seat, I’ll bring the platter over.”
The sound of a chair leg scraping across the tile rang out behind him. After removing the last of the chicken pieces from the fryer, he set them on the paper towel then unplugged the fryer. Once he’d soaked up most of the grease, he transferred the chicken to a platter and carried it to the table.
They were quiet as they served themselves. Somehow, that afternoon felt different from their lunch the other day, more intimate since they were completely alone. Max snuck glances at her, marveling at the fact that a few months ago, they could barely stand to be in the same room. And yet, there they were, sharing a meal as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The thought made him smile.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” she asked, catching him staring.
“I was thinking of how much we used to hate each other.”
She barked a laugh. “Hate’s a bit of a strong word.” She lowered her gaze then looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “But I’m much happier with where we are now.”
“As am I.” He cleared his throat. “After we finish up here, I’ll show you what I’ve been working on in the garage, and maybe you can give me some advice on a wedding gift for Lanie.”
Carissa cocked her head. “Oh?”
“I wanted to give her the finished pieces I’ve been working on, but she’s moving into a furnished house with Nate. I’d prefer if my gift was both meaningful and useful.”
“I’d love to see what you’ve been working on, though I have no idea what assistance I can provide on a gift idea.” She smiled. “I usually pick something off the couple’s registry.”
“It needs to be special,” Max insisted.
She placed a hand on his arm. “I’m sure no matter what you decide to give her, it will be.”
Once they finished eating, Max cleared the table before putting the dishes in the sink. “I’ll take care of those in a bit,” he said as he grabbed her hand and pulled her from her seat. He was eager to gauge her reaction to the pieces he’d finished.
After flicking on the light in the garage, he removed the sheets one by one, glancing at Carissa as he did so. The nightstands were revealed first then a small chest of drawers. Finally, he revealed the table, which hadn’t needed much work.
“These are amazing,” Carissa said as she moved closer to the pieces.
“Thank you.” He dropped his gaze, feeling suddenly shy. Her approval meant more to him than he’d expected.
“What were you planning to give Lanie?”
Stepping around her, he pointed at the nightstands. “These might work in the master bedroom at Nate’s house, but he has a pair that match the bedframe and dresser.”
“They are striking, but I can understand your hesitation if Nate already has nightstands.” She cocked her head. “What about end tables in the living room?”
“Nate’s living room is rather small. I’m not sure they’ll fit.”
With a nod, she turned to the other pieces. “I suspect Nate already has a table as well. The chest of drawers is small enough to be placed on a surface like a dresser or nightstand.”
“It seems too small for a wedding gift.”
Her head shot up. “Not if you made it. I’m sure Lanie could store her jewelry in there or something similar.”
“I guess.” As much as he understood Carissa’s point, it wasn’t enough to show Lanie how much he loved her. He wanted his wedding gift to stand out.
Carissa moved beside him and put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something. You still have two months until the wedding.”
“That’s not a lot of time to come up with something from scratch.”
She smiled. “I have faith in you.”
Her words caused a flood of emotions to flow through him. Without thinking, Max slid his hand over her cheek and into her hair. Bending his head, he searched her eyes for a moment before tentatively brushing his lips against hers. He pulled back, afraid he’d gone too far. But before he could move away, she pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed him more fervently. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pressing her body against his.
Every inch of his body felt like it was on fire. His heart pounded as he slipped his other arm around her waist, drawing her closer.
A moment later, she took a ragged breath and stumbled back. The cool air that rushed in from her absence was like a bucket of cold water. As he came back to his senses, he struggled to think of what to say. She’d wanted to take things slowly. He’d promised Lanie they wouldn’t date. And yet, there he was, practically making out with her in the middle of his garage.
But he didn’t regret it for one moment. Things had changed between them over a month ago, and he’d resisted the urge to kiss her every time they were alone together. However, if he’d hoped that finally giving in to that urge would squelch the desire, he was sorely mistaken. If anything, that kiss made him want her more.
“Carissa, I?—”
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t say anything.”
“But—”
“School will be out soon. I-I’d better go before Lanie gets home.”
Though his lips still burned from the warmth of her kiss, his heart sank. He reached for her, but she shifted away from him. “Shouldn’t we talk about this?”
When she finally lifted her head to look at him, her expression seemed to change by the second. First, her eyes filled with longing, then her eyebrows pulled together in confusion. She brought her hand to her mouth.
“We shouldn’t have—I mean, I wanted to, but…” She shook her head. “I have to go.” Without waiting for a response, she rushed out of the room.
Max stood frozen in his garage. Part of him wanted to run after her, but he couldn’t seem to convince his legs to move. The warmth and joy he’d experienced just moments before when she was in his arms felt like a distant memory. In its place was a cold, miserable emptiness. He didn’t know what had happened, but he feared he’d screwed up in ways he couldn’t yet fathom.