Читать книгу Nora's Guy Next Door - Jo McNally - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

“I’M SORRY...YOU’RE WHAT?”

Nora brought a shaking hand to her forehead, wondering if she was losing her mind. She had to be hearing things. Or hallucinating. That was it—she was hallucinating. Maybe she’d bought the wrong kind of mushrooms at the store the other day. Hot Produce Guy had distracted her, and she’d bought hallucinogenic mushrooms. That would explain why she’d just imagined her daughter saying something that couldn’t possibly be true.

The Thanksgiving table was eerily silent. Amanda held her wineglass suspended in midair, not quite reaching her lips. Blake’s mouth kept opening and closing, with no sound coming out. Their twelve-year-old son, Zachary, muttered a quiet “Uh-oh.” But it was the youngest child, Maddie, who broke through the quiet, clapping her hands together.

“Annie Becca have baby!” Unable to pronounce Ts yet, all of Maddie’s aunties were annies at this point.

Becky sat directly across from Nora, eyes wide but steady. The only hint of emotion was the rapid tapping of her fingers on the edge of the table, like she was playing an invisible piano. Her light brown hair was pulled up into a high ponytail tied with a ribbon, making her look even younger than her eighteen years.

Eighteen!

“I’m sorry, Mama.” Becky’s hands fell to her lap. “I didn’t mean to blurt it out over dinner like that, but you kept insisting it was okay to drink wine with dinner and I can’t, and I had to tell you anyway, so it just came out. I’m sorry.”

Nora shook her head. The news simply wasn’t computing. Amanda reached for her, but Nora jerked away. If anyone touched her right now, she’d shatter. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at her pregnant teenage daughter.

“Rebecca Scarlett Bradford, did you just apologize for the bad timing of the announcement? Yet you’re not apologizing for being pregnant? At eighteen?” Every word grew louder and louder, which was a new experience for Nora. She prided herself on maintaining her composure at all times.

Her late husband’s shenanigans had tested that composure on a regular basis, but she’d rarely cracked. She rose to her feet in a flash of hot temper. She was definitely cracking now. In fact, she felt like she was about to burst into a thousand shards of fury.

“How could you be so careless? So stupid? Your life is just beginning, and now you’re telling me you’re pregnant? My God, Becky, I raised you to be smarter than that!” Her pulse was pounding in her ears. Rage? Panic? Was there a difference? “You have a scholarship at Vassar, for God’s sake! And you’re throwing it all away because you couldn’t keep your legs...”

“Nora!” Amanda’s voice was sharp. Her two children were at the table. Nora’s face burned. All she could do was glare at her daughter and wonder what the hell they were going to do. How was she going to fix this?

Blake cleared his throat as awkward silence returned. Nora was still standing, leaning over the table as if she wanted to leap across it and pummel her daughter. And, right now, the idea had a shocking amount of appeal.

“I think it’s safe to say dinner is officially over.” Blake gave his wife a pointed look. “Let’s take a little break before dessert, okay? The kids and I will go down to the resort, and you ladies can talk.” It was obvious he intended for Amanda to be the referee. Amanda. Her cousin who’d spent more time with Becky than she had over the past few months. Nora looked down, her own voice sounding like cracking ice.

“Did you know about this?”

Her cousin threw her hands up in defense. “No! I knew she had a boyfriend, but...”

A heart attack. That was what this was. Nora was having a heart attack and this was all a crazy dream. They’d take her to the hospital, and when she woke up, no one would be pregnant. No one would have a boyfriend they hadn’t mentioned to their mother. Because Becky told her mother everything.

“You told Amanda about having a boyfriend and not me?”

Becky shifted in her chair, then raised her chin defiantly. “If you knew I was seeing someone here, there’s no way you would’ve let me come to Gallant Lake so often...”

“He’s here? In Gallant Lake? How long has this...”

“Two years.”

Amanda sucked in a sharp breath, which somehow made Nora feel better. At least her cousin didn’t know everything. Nora knew Becky had made friends here, of course. She visited often, and they all went snowboarding and rock climbing together. Even when she was home in Atlanta, Becky was always texting or video chatting with someone in Gallant Lake. It just hadn’t occurred to Nora that there was a boyfriend in the picture. She was such an idiot.

Two years. Becky would have been sixteen. Nora settled down into her seat like a balloon slowly losing air. Sixteen. Someone had taken advantage of her innocent child and now she was pregnant. Okay. They could fix this. First, Nora would make sure this monster was prosecuted for...something. Anything. A stranger had come into her happy family and tried to destroy it, but Nora wouldn’t allow that to happen.

“How old was this...this man?”

“When we met? Eighteen.”

There was an odd bit of relief in that. At least it wasn’t some forty-year-old cyber-stalker who’d victimized her daughter. It was a horny teenage boy. Who, at eighteen, had still been old enough to know better and could still be held responsible.

“So this young man pressured you into having unprotected s...”

“Blake is right,” Amanda interrupted, standing quickly and reminding Nora once again there were children present at this train wreck of a holiday meal. “He and Zach can clear the table and go for a walk with Maddie. The three of us can take a minute to collect our thoughts, then we’ll sit in the solarium and figure this out over tea.”

Everyone stood, and Nora stared at her daughter, trying to understand how this had happened. Becky was an intelligent young woman with big plans. She was going to work to protect the environment and make a difference in the world. Was that a baby bump? How far along was she? Was it too late for options? Would Nora support that choice if Becky made it? Her pulse amped up another notch.

“There’s nothing to figure out, Amanda.” Becky looked at Nora for a long moment, then her hand moved across her belly. “I know you’re disappointed, Mom. This wasn’t part of your precious plans. Michael and I didn’t plan it, either, but we’re happy to be having a baby together. We love each other, and Michael asked me to marry him. I said yes.”

As that bombshell sent shock waves through the room so forceful that Nora physically felt their impact, her daughter walked away from the table.

* * *

NORA GLARED SO hard at the back of the bearded man holding her daughter’s hand that she was surprised she didn’t bore a hole right between his shoulders. His sweater sleeves were pushed up to expose a small tattoo of a key on his right forearm. It now rested right next to the padlock on Becky’s arm as they walked down the sidewalk in Gallant Lake.

Well. That explained that.

She wanted to hate this horrible young man who’d gotten her daughter pregnant and ruined all the plans Nora had for Becky’s future. This...this...Michael person had made a mess of everything. She narrowed her eyes on the back of his head.

He nudged against her daughter’s shoulder in what appeared to be some affectionate ritual between them, and Becky nudged back without looking at him. Nora wanted to hate him. But she couldn’t.

Michael Peyton had been mature and charming over brunch. He clearly worshipped the ground Becky walked on and was constantly attentive to her every need. They seemed to be truly in love with each other. Of course, it was young love, and who knew if it would last, but still, it seemed real for the moment. It was honestly the kind of love she’d dreamed Becky would find, but she’d wanted her to find it ten years from now. Without being pregnant. Her eyes narrowed again.

While Nora had been making plans to take a tour of England with her daughter, Becky had been making plans of her own. She was at the end of her first trimester, and she’d already made arrangements to leave Vassar. Michael was transferring to the law program at Albany, which was closer to Gallant Lake than Columbia was. Becky said she was looking at “other options” for school, but she vowed the baby wouldn’t stop her from getting her political science degree. Michael was already renting a two-bedroom bungalow in Gallant Lake, and they wanted to stay in this town, where they’d met and where they had friends.

There were some major gaps in their plan, such as the loss of scholarships and a source of steady income, but Nora had to admit they were approaching this in a fairly mature manner, so far. Nora had told Becky yesterday she could move north to help, but her daughter was adamant about not needing Nora there. She was just like her father that way—always so sure everything would turn out rosy. So quick to dismiss Nora’s concerns. When she tried to point out that having a baby was hard work and they would need help, Becky just laughed.

“It’s time to start living your own life, Mom, and stop running mine.”

Her daughter didn’t want her here. And that hurt.

Michael glanced over his shoulder at Nora, his blue eyes clouded with worry.

“Mrs. B., are you sure you want to do this?” It took her a moment to realize what he was referring to. “I have no idea how Dad will react to us just showing up...”

Nora smiled before she could catch herself. Darn it all, she kept forgetting she wanted to hate this kid! His mom lived in LA, but his father lived right here in town. The man hadn’t bothered showing up for brunch, leaving Michael so embarrassed she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“Of course I’m sure, Michael. In the South, there isn’t a problem in the world that can’t be fixed over blueberry cobbler and strong coffee.”

Becky turned with a laugh. “Don’t you mean a smile and a plan, Mom? Isn’t that how you solve everything?”

Nora nodded. “The plan is to make him smile over cobbler, then we’ll get him talking and win him over.”

Becky pulled up short, forcing Michael to stop with her. Nora bobbled the white box of cobbler in her arms to keep it upright. “Mom, what exactly are you winning him over to? Are you saying you’re on our side now?”

The smell of freshly ground coffee was a welcome distraction from answering that heavily loaded question. They were standing in front of Caffeine Cathy’s Coffee Café. The place didn’t exactly hold happy memories for her—she still hadn’t managed to get the coffee stain out of her jacket. But maybe they should pick up coffee here instead of expecting Michael’s father to provide it unannounced.

“Mom?”

Nora looked back to her daughter—her pregnant daughter with a plan—and the tall man at her side, arm now draped affectionately over her shoulders. The young man who loved her daughter. The father of her daughter’s child. There was a tightness in her chest that was something other than pain. It was a flood of emotion so strong she almost couldn’t breathe.

“Rebecca,” she said, ignoring the wince on her daughter’s face at the use of her full name, “there are no sides here. There’s just a baby. And two very young people who are obviously going to love that baby. I’m not a fan of you getting married...” She shook her head when Becky started to protest. “I really want you to wait before having a wedding. Your plans sound very nice and tidy, but life isn’t tidy. And you’re going to need family. For you, that’s me. For Michael, that’s his mom and dad. So let’s bring his dad some cobbler and coffee—” she tipped her head toward the coffee shop with a smile “—and see if we can help him accept his impending grandfatherhood.”

Michael placed a soft kiss on the top of Becky’s head, and Nora blinked, then stared out at the blue lake across the road, surrounded by russet-colored mountains. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and felt her daughter’s arms surround her.

“Thanks, Mom. I didn’t expect you to be so...cool about this.”

Nora laughed. “I wouldn’t go so far as saying I’m cool with it, but you’re my baby and I love you.” Michael headed into the coffee shop. Nora looked at the For Sale sign in the window and winked at Becky to lighten the moment.

“I could always buy a coffee shop in Gallant Lake so I could be closer to you.”

Becky started to laugh. “Oh, God, Mom, that would be a disaster! You don’t know anything about business, much less running the world’s ugliest coffee shop. Besides, I already told you it’s time to live your own life. I don’t need you running mine anymore.”

Nora couldn’t decide which emotion to go with. Pain that her daughter thought she was incapable of running a business or panic at the realization that she had no idea what living her own life might look like. She pulled her jacket more tightly around her as a cold breeze blew off the lake. She lifted her chin and gave Becky a bright smile to hide her roiling emotions.

“Maybe I’ve always wanted to run a place like this. Well, not looking like this, but an artsy little coffeehouse...”

“You’ve always wanted to own a coffee shop? For real?”

Nora had never in her life thought about owning a coffee shop. But she did enjoy sitting with a good book in the one near Peachtree Mall.

“Whatever, Mom.” Becky took the box of cobbler from Nora’s arms. “Buy a coffee shop somewhere. Toss away that stupid planner of yours and start living.”

Michael returned with coffee, and they headed next door to the plain brick building with a carved sign reading Peyton Custom Woodworking. A beautiful arts and crafts chair and side table sat in the window. On the table were two dark bowls made of polished burled wood. If Michael’s father had built this, then the man truly was an artist. A bell jingled above the door when they walked in.

Furniture and carved pieces were displayed in the front of the shop, creating a showroom of sorts, anchored by a large oriental rug. In back was a work area. Workbenches full of tiny drawers lined the walls, and in the center sat a half-finished cherry sideboard and an oak dining table with a pile of steel wool sitting in the middle of it. The whole place smelled of sawdust and varnish. Guitar music was coming out of speakers on the wall, bluesy and mellow.

The masculine presence in the room was so strong she could breathe it in and taste it. This was a man’s space, through and through. Exposed brick walls, light bulbs hanging from the ceiling with round metal shades above them. It was orderly, but raw somehow. As raw as the board lumber stacked high against the back wall.

She ran her hand across the silky-smooth top of the sideboard and heard footsteps approaching. A side door opened and a man walked in, wiping his hands on a rag. When he looked up, she took in a sharp breath and stepped back. It was Hot Produce Guy. The man who’d been so rude in the grocery store. The man she’d yelled at on the sidewalk...she cringed inwardly...the sidewalk right outside his business.

He froze, still holding the rag, but not moving a muscle. His icy blue eyes looked first to Michael, who was setting the coffee and pastries on a workbench, and he frowned. His frown deepened when he saw Becky nervously twisting her fingers together in front of her stomach. Then he turned to Nora and the frown faded into confusion.

“What are you doing here, Miss Fixer?”

The name hung in the air for a moment before Becky found her voice.

“Wait—you two know each other? How the hell does he know you, Mom?”

“Mom?” He set the rag down, shook his head and gave a humorless laugh. “Of course. You’re the mom of the little mom-to-be.” He took a long look at Becky, and there wasn’t an ounce of warmth in his gaze. He turned back to Nora. “So, was our chance meeting in the store Tuesday just as orchestrated as the rest of this farce? And I suppose you just happened to be parked right in front of my shop that afternoon?”

“I didn’t orchestrate anything.” His brow rose in obvious skepticism, and she bristled. “Listen, I’m just as surprised as you. It looks like we’re going to have to get to know each other, whether we want to or not.” She held out her hand, but he didn’t take it. She remembered his rage in the grocery store over his son doing something stupid, and understood it a lot better now. “The circumstances may not be the best, but we can still make the best of them...” Becky groaned behind her and Michael’s father shook his head in amusement. Or perhaps derision.

“There you go with the greeting-card platitudes again. Do you work for Hallmark or something?”

Becky snorted at that and Nora glared at her. Why didn’t people understand she was trying to bring everyone onto the same page here?

Michael stepped into the silence that followed. “Dad, this is Nora Bradford, and yes, she’s Becky’s mom. She lives in Atlanta but came here for the holiday. She’s related to...”

“The Randalls. Yeah, she made sure to mention that the other day.”

Nora took a sharp breath, but Michael kept talking.

“Nora, this is my father, Asher Peyton. This is his furniture studio. And, Dad, this is Becky. The girl I’m going to...”

Asher looked straight at Nora, ignoring his son. “Look, this little ambush of yours isn’t going to work. I know you’re trying to make nice, but you can forget it. I won’t let you and your daughter rope my son into a marriage with your little baby scam.”

With that, everyone started speaking, each more furious than the last.

“You think I masterminded some scheme that included my eighteen-year-old daughter getting pregnant?”

“You think my pregnancy is a scam?”

“Dad, if you don’t shut up, I swear to God, I’ll shut you up myself!”

Michael grabbed his father’s shirt in his fist and pushed him hard against the wall. The tools hanging there rattled, and a few tumbled off shelves. Becky burst into tears, covering her face with her hands.

Nora stomped her foot hard on the wooden floor. “That’s enough!”

She rarely used her angry voice, and people tended to be shocked into silence when such a big voice came from such a tiny woman.

“Michael, you let your father go this instant! And you.” Her finger pointed straight at Asher Peyton and her accent grew thick. “Sugar, you should follow your son’s advice and remain silent for the time being.” She didn’t take her eyes from him, and he didn’t move or speak as his son took a step back. She nodded in approval. “Bless your heart, Mr. Peyton, you might just have a brain somewhere in that hard head of yours, after all. Now, there will be no more shouting in front of my pregnant daughter, and there will definitely be no more violence, is that clear?” She arched a brow in Michael’s direction and the young man gulped.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Why don’t you take Becky somewhere where she can wash her face and calm down while your father and I have a chat?”

Becky chewed her lip, her face tear soaked, looking painfully like the teenager she was. She silently preceded Michael through the side exit. Michael sent a hard warning glance at his father before closing the door behind them.

Nora turned back to Asher, who was still against the wall, his gaze moving from her face to her pointing finger and back again. Storms raged behind those blue eyes. He was like a wounded animal looking for an escape. Her stance softened automatically and she lowered her hand, reminding herself that cornered animals were dangerous.

Asher’s brooding silence was a physical presence in the room. Was the man capable of violence? Did father and son often resort to physical blows? What kind of family was her daughter getting tangled up with? He glared at her for another long moment, then brushed past her, heading for the workbench. He opened a cupboard door and pulled out an almost empty bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He drained the bottle into the glasses and handed her one. Violent and a drinker? Perfect. But she took the glass, figuring she could use a little liquid courage.

“Your son seems like a fine young man, Asher. If you give her a chance, I think you’ll find my daughter is an equally fine young woman, incapable of whatever you suspect her of.” She had to find a way to bring him into this forced family dynamic, to make him see that these young people needed him.

He took a sip of liquor, and she did the same. “I understand your shock at our children’s predicament. I’m still in shock myself. Michael was so disappointed when you weren’t able to join us this morning...” Her voice faded as she looked from the drink in his hand to the dark circles under his eyes. The pieces started falling into place. That bottle had probably been full at some point last night and may have been part of the reason he didn’t make it to brunch this morning.

Okay, so this guy had some serious issues. But their kids needed them. She gave him her brightest smile, but his scowl just deepened. “So we decided to bring the brunch to you. There’s homemade blueberry cobbler in the box, and we picked up some coffee from next door. I thought we should get to know each other, since we have a mutual grandchild on the way.”

Blue eyes stared hard at her, as if trying to decipher her words.

“That’s not going to happen. Not today. Not any day. You’re trying to play me, and it won’t work. You’re trying to fix a problem that can’t be fixed.” He started to step away. Without thinking, she put her hand on his arm to stop him.

“I understand you’re angry, but we’re their parents, and those two kids need us. That baby needs us. And you’re the one who lives here in the same town.”

He spoke to her hand on his arm instead of looking her in the eye.

“This isn’t some damned Norman Rockwell painting, Nora. I’m not that guy. You may be the ride-in-and-save-everyone type, but don’t bother trying to save me, okay?” He looked her right in the eye. “I’m going to do everything in my power to stop this pregnancy, and if I can’t do that, I’ll make sure they don’t get married.”

“Stop the pregnancy?” Her stomach rolled and soured.

“Doctors can be called. Appointments made. Then both our children get on with their lives.”

A chill swept across her skin. He couldn’t be this calculating and cruel.

“They’re in love with each other. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Don’t give me your rosy fairy tales. They’re young and resilient. They’ll move on from this.”

Before she could answer, Michael and Becky came back into the shop. Becky’s face was red and blotchy from crying, but she’d regained her composure. Michael purposefully moved her well past his father, but his eyes fell to Nora’s hand, still on Asher’s arm. Apparently people didn’t touch him a lot. Small wonder. She yanked it away.

Asher looked at her with eyes devoid of any emotion, as if he’d pulled the shutters down from the inside. He glanced at his son and her daughter, and she saw the briefest glimmer of regret when he looked back and met her eyes.

“Look, you seem like a nice woman. Your daughter’s probably a nice girl. But I’ll have no part of this.”

“This?”

“Them.” He lifted his chin to where Becky stood in front of Michael, his arms wrapped protectively around her. “The baby. The wedding. All of it. None of it. I won’t be involved. Just...just leave me out of it, okay? I’m out.”

“Dad, please...”

Michael’s plea went unheard. Asher was through the side door and gone before anyone could react.