Chapter Fifteen
Haley sat at her computer, scrolling through the pictures Kathy had taken of her, trying to choose a few for her online dating profile. It had been eight days since Sam had fled the scene, and today her insides felt less wobbly. She wasn’t quite ready to activate her account yet, but at least she could complete the profile. All that remained were the pictures to upload and completing her method of payment. Gah. Would dating other men purge Sam from her system?
Her phone chimed, notifying her she had a text message. Probably Kathy, checking to see how her profile was coming along. She picked it up and looked at the screen. Sam. Her heart tripped.
Hey, could I drop by sometime this coming week. If you’re willing, I’d like to talk.
She dropped her phone, shot up from the chair and strode to the kitchen. Willing? Did she want to talk to him? Haley paced and wrapped her arms around herself. What did they have to talk about? He probably thought he owed her an explanation, which he did, but was she ready to hear what he had to say?
Wait. She could pretend she hadn’t read the message for a while, at least until her pulse returned to normal. His stupid plastic bowl still sat in a corner of her kitchen counter with Josey’s ceramic dish nestled inside. She’d meant to get hold of Josey, tell her she’d leave both in her breezeway so one of them could pick them up whenever—meaning at a time when she wasn’t home.
Hadn’t she learned anything this year? She didn’t want to wait for months before finding closure. Despite the fact that he’d flat out told her he didn’t do relationships, she’d fallen for him, and he’d given every indication that he cared back. What had happened that night? He’d looked so freaked out, standing there with his things clutched to his naked chest.
If she did agree to talk, it didn’t mean she had to admit she’d fallen for him, and honestly, she did want to . . . what? Scold him for being the promiscuous commitment-phobe he’d always been? Lesson learned: No matter how many times you kiss a frog, it’s still going to be an amphibian—not a prince. Who Sam chose to be and what he chose to do were not her business anymore. She’d talk to him, but on her terms.
Her heart in her throat, she forced herself back to her office and picked up her phone. She wouldn’t let him know how much he’d hurt her. Staring at the screen with her insides scrambling for cover, she texted back.
If you want/need to talk, sure. How’s this coming Thursday around six? You and your sister left your bowls here. You can pick them up then.
If she stared at her screen any harder, the glass might shatter. She inhaled through her nose and slowly exhaled through her mouth, trying to steady her nerves. Finally, he texted back.
That will work. See you Thursday, six p.m.
Haley dropped into her chair. Her hands were shaking, and her legs wouldn’t hold her up any longer. This was Sunday. She had until Thursday to pull herself together. Four days. Did hair stylists keep openings for emergencies the way dentists did? She’d go shopping today. All the winter stuff was on clearance. Hopefully she could find a nice sweater or blouse and a new and perfect pair of jeans or leggings. She wanted to look her absolute best, which also meant a stop at Sephora for new makeup.
Don’t show the cracks; don’t let him see the dents he put in your heart. She hit Kathy’s speed dial number and pressed her phone to her ear.
“Hey, Haley. What’re you up to?” Kathy answered in a cheerful voice.
“You’ll never guess who just texted me.”
“Channing Tatum.”
“I wish.” Haley huffed. “Sam Haney. He wants to talk.”
“Oh no. Tell me you turned him down.”
“Why would I turn him down?” Haley frowned.
“You don’t want to see him, Haley. Not after—”
“You’re right. I don’t want to see him; I want him to see me.” Not entirely true; she ached to see him again, but she’d keep that to herself. “I’m going shopping today. I want to look great when he comes over.” The night he’d come for his drill, he’d said she looked positively edible. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her then, and she wanted that reaction one more time. “This is about me, Kathy. I want him to see I’m not falling apart. I want him to know his abrupt exit from my life has had no lasting effect.”
“Hmm, which means it did have a lasting effect. You succumbed to his charm, and he broke your heart.”
“I’ll admit I did fall a little bit in love with Sam, but this is my chance for closure, and then I can let it go. I’m not going to fester for a year, wondering why things ended with Sam. I did that with Michael, and it’s a waste of time. Do you want to come shopping with me?”
“Oh, gosh. I’d love to, but this is one of Blake’s off-duty days, and we have plans. I’m meeting his parents for the first time. What about Felicia?”
“She’s in Iowa visiting her grandparents. It’s their fiftieth wedding anniversary this weekend, remember? She’s not coming home until Tuesday.”
“Right. I forgot.”
“It’s OK. This is going to be a power shopping trip anyway. I’m probably better off going by myself.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Have fun with Blake and his parents.” Haley was truly happy things were going so well for Kathy and Blake, but that didn’t prevent a flash of envy from flaring to life. Her turn would come. She’d make it happen. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“All right. Go fire up that credit card, and buy something smoking hot. Nothing is as sweet as making a man who dumped you drool.”
“That’s exactly what I’m going for.” Haley ended the call and saved her dating profile before putting her computer to sleep. Lots to do today, and it was already close to eleven. She hurried to her bathroom for a quick shower, plans for her shopping trip occupying her thoughts.
Four hours later, she pulled into to her garage, her trunk filled with bags of the sweet deals she’d found. The hard part would be choosing what to wear, the black skinny jeans or the burgundy denim. She also had two new sweaters and a tailored white blouse for work, plus a black-and-white Sephora bag holding mascara, a new shade of blush and her favorite eyeliner.
She could manage pretending to be happy and unaffected by Sam’s rejection while graciously listening to what he had to say. Taking the high ground, being willing to forgive and forget, would certainly be easier if she could make him drool.
Haley unloaded her purchases and hit the button closing her garage door. One more item remained on her list, and even if it meant taking a few vacation hours, she intended to get in for a brand-new haircut and style, something short to frame her face. Nothing says fresh start like a new hairstyle. She walked into her house with a lighter step. Drool, handyman, drool.
Once she’d cut off all the tags on her purchases and started a load of laundry, she completed her online dating profile and chose the six-month option. Her finger hovered above the Enter key for several seconds. Nervousness and self-doubt swirled through her. What if nobody responded? Worse, what if only creepy guys flirted with her? She swallowed and hit the Return key. Ready or not, she was going to do this. She needed to get her life moving forward again.
A flutter rippled through her stomach. Sam would be at her house in twenty minutes. What did he want to say to her? At least Kathy and Felicia’s positive reactions to her haircut today had buoyed her confidence. Haley washed her face and applied fresh makeup, taking extra special care with her eyes.
Deciding what to wear had taken up at least half her time getting ready. The cream-colored tunic-style sweater she’d chosen had threads of copper, black and pewter woven through the yarn, and the black skinny jeans were casual enough that it didn’t appear as if she’d gone to all that much trouble to look good . . . but she had, and she did. If only her nerves would calm down, she might be able to have a rational conversation with Sam.
She stepped back and studied herself in the mirror, turning her head this way and that to make sure every hair of her short bob with the angled sweep of layered bangs, was in place. The new cut set off her eyes and cheekbones, and she really liked how easy it was to style.
A knock on her door sent her pulse racing. She wiped her hands on a towel and forced herself to walk, not dash, to her living room. Plastering a smile on her face, she opened the door. Seeing Sam in his all-too-familiar Carhartt work jacket and signature faded flannel shirt beneath, she almost burst into tears. She’d been wrong. She couldn’t do this. Her plastered smile faltered.
His gaze roamed over her from head to toe and then back again. “You cut your hair.”
Her hand came up to touch her bangs, and she nodded.
“It’s nice, but I liked the way it was before.” Sam’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and his blue eyes darkened. “I liked the way you’d flip it over your shoulder, and how you’d sometimes put it up in a ponytail.”
Her brow rose. “You came here to talk to me about my hair?”
“Uh, no. Sorry.” Sam wiped his boots on the rubber mat in front of the door. “Can I come in?”
“Sure.” She stood back, still gripping the edge of the door for support. “Can I get you something? Water, coffee?” A new outlook on involvement? Her heart wrenched. Sam had been perfect all the way up to the moment he’d made his mad, naked dash out of her bedroom.
“No. I’m fine, thanks.” He slipped out of his coat and draped it over the back of the couch.
“Have a seat,” she said, moving to the overstuffed chair in the corner. If she sat any closer to him, the meltdown she was struggling to conquer would defeat her. “So, you wanted to talk. Go ahead.”
“I . . .” He cleared his throat. “I want to apologize for the way I left . . . things.”
“By things, are you referring to the way you ran out of my house at two in the morning after having sex with me, or things in general?” The hurt and anger finally overrode her nerves, lending her an odd sort of calm.
“Ahh . . . both.” His Adam’s apple bobbed again, and his face turned red. “I . . .” He blew out an audible breath. “Look, ever since my parents died, I’ve had panic attacks. My chest hurts, and I can’t breathe. It’s like having a heart attack, only it’s not. When it happens, I get claustrophobic. I can’t think. I just have to get out. That night, after we made love—”
“Had sex, you mean.” She lifted her chin.
He stared at her intently for a second before averting his gaze. “I had a panic attack, and I ran. I’m sorry, Haley.”
She’d seen the panic in his eyes that night. Come to think of it, he hadn’t really been all there when he’d left. He hadn’t even been coherent. She frowned. “What were you thinking about before the panic attack?”
“Us.”
Us? In his mind there had been an us? Wait, did he come here to talk her into giving him another chance? Damn this annoying spark of hope. She squelched the sucker. Devastating disappointment was not something she cared to set herself up for again. Still . . . it had to take a lot of courage to face her and admit to a panic attack. “What about us?”
“You know, what if we went down this path or that path, stuff like that.”
“Relationship stuff.”
He nodded, his expression bleak.
He’d lost his parents, and she’d wondered if his aversion to getting close had been a defense mechanism. The sudden flash of insight penetrated the hurt and anger. “Oh, Sam. This is about those unresolved issues we talked about, isn’t it? Look, I understand how a childhood trauma like losing your parents can lead to irrational fears, but don’t let it control your life. Don’t cut yourself off from having feelings for—”
“I never said I didn’t have feelings for you, Haley,” he said, his voice hoarse. “My heart functions just like everybody else’s.” His eyes met hers, and he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his thighs. He scrubbed his face with his hands for a second. “Yeah, I’m sure it has something to do with losing my parents. The problem is, I feel too much, and the thought of facing more loss isn’t something I want to put myself through. That’s why I don’t do relationships.” He lifted his head, his gaze intense again.
All her desire to come away from this the victor fell away, and she looked, really looked at Sam. His face was leaner, pale, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He did care about her, but he wasn’t here to ask for a second chance. Her heart broke all over again. “So, let me get this straight. You would rather throw us away, because somehow, suffering now is preferable to suffering later. Is that it?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders, and a wave of frustration tinged with empathy swept through her. “What makes you think you’d be the one to lose me, Sam? Maybe I’d be the one to lose you.”
He made a muffled snorting noise and shook his head.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Absolutely.” He sat back up and took a deep breath, as if bracing himself. “That’s why I’m here, so we can talk this through. I don’t want there to be any hard feelings between us. It’s just that . . .”
“You don’t do relationships.”
He nodded again. God, her heart and her head hurt, not just for herself, but for him. To be so trapped by fear and panic must be awful for him. She couldn’t imagine cutting herself off from the possibility of love and a family of her own. Haley ran her damp palms along her jeans. “So, say we had chosen to be together and you did lose me. What would that be like for you?”
He shot her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
“Well, like . . . would you have trouble sleeping?” The dark circles looked like bruises beneath his eyes.
“I suppose.”
Yep. He was definitely thinner, his face more angular and way less boyish. “And you might lose your appetite, have trouble eating?”
“What’s your point, Haley?”
“It seems to me . . .” She paused, searching for the words that might penetrate his irrational thought processes. “It’s obvious you’ve lost weight, and looking at you now, I can see you haven’t been sleeping well. Am I right?”
“I guess. So?”
“So . . .” She threw up her hands. “What’s the difference, Sam? You’re putting us both through this misery, and it’s needless. We could be together.” Her eyes filled, and she forced herself to calm down. Now was not the time to cry. “But we’re not, because you’ve decided—without giving me a say, by the way—that it’s better to be in pain now rather than later.” She shook her head.
“That makes no sense. Sooner, later . . . again, what’s the difference? Hurt happens, but so do love and happiness. Don’t you see? You’re not . . .” Her voice hitched. “You haven’t prevented anything. All you’ve done is cut yourself off from a huge part of what life has to offer. Just think of the memories we could’ve made together.”
She was grasping at straws here, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “Memories sustain us when loss happens. They’re like . . . well, they’re like flotation devices that keep us afloat through the tough times.”
Was anything getting through to him? She couldn’t tell. He sat like a statue in her living room, like one big tragic work of male performance art. “I saw you with the kids you coach and with your cousins. You’d make a great dad, and I have no doubt you’d enjoy the role. You have so much to offer. You’re sweet, considerate, compassionate, affectionate—”
“Great in bed,” he added, still averting his gaze.
She rolled her eyes. “The point is, things don’t have to be like this. I’m sad. I have feelings too, and you’ve hurt them.”
“I’m sorry, Haley. I never set out to cause you any grief. For what it’s worth, you’re the closest I’ve ever come to serious involvement, but I just can’t do the relationship thing.” He scrubbed his face with both hands again. “I choke up, panic, and I’d rather . . . It’s better for all involved if I don’t have to experience that on a daily basis.”
“Have you thought about, you know, maybe talking to a professional about this?”
“No. It wouldn’t do any good, and it won’t change my mind. My grandparents put me, Josey and Wyatt through therapy after our parents died. If it didn’t help then, it’s not going to make a difference now.” He stood up. “I’d better get going. It wasn’t you, Haley. You’re amazing, and never doubt it—I have very strong feelings for you. This is my issue.”
“Yes.” Anger and defeat exhausted her last hope. “It is your issue. Obviously, I can’t talk you into or out of anything, so I’ll stop trying. It’s your life, your decision.” She wanted to scream, cry and argue with him until he realized what an idiot he was being, but it wouldn’t do any good. He was stuck, and it wasn’t up to her to unstick him.
“I wish you all the best. No hard feelings.” She followed him to the door, catching a whiff of his unique scent as he put on his jacket. “Say hello to Josey and Wyatt for me.”
“I will. Thanks for being—”
“Understanding?” She searched for some spark in his eyes, any shred of evidence that he’d heard what she’d said. But they held only a flat kind of resignation. The shutters were drawn tight. “I’m not understanding. I just know when I’m wasting my breath.”
He nodded, kissed her forehead and left. The tears didn’t start until after she shut and locked her door. That’s when it hit her. This was the last time she’d ever see her handyman, and she still loved him every bit as much today as she had two weeks ago. “Big stubborn idiot.”
Sniffling, tears running down her cheeks, she headed for her fridge. A bottle of chardonnay left over from the open house called to her, and she wasn’t about to ignore the summons. Having Sam in her house tonight, listening to him explain why they couldn’t be together was like losing him all over again. A glass of wine, maybe two, mindless TV and bed—that was her plan for the rest of this disastrous evening.
Thank God tomorrow was Friday, and she only had to get through one more day at work before she had the weekend to mourn in the privacy of her own home. Maybe she’d meet an emotionally available someone online to chat with—anything to take her mind off Sam Haney, the most stubborn, wrong-thinking, commitment-phobic handyman in the Twin Cities.
She reached into her new cabinet for a wineglass. Sam’s stupid plastic bowl tucked into the corner beneath caught her eye. Dammit. One more link when all she wanted was for this to be over so the healing could begin.
Sighing, she poured herself a glass of wine, filling it to the rim. Tomorrow she’d call Haney & Sons and leave a message for Josey. Until then, she didn’t want to look at the bowl. Wasn’t it bad enough she’d live with reminders of Sam in her house every day?
Haley grabbed Sam and Josey’s bowls and stomped to the breezeway. She placed them on the stacked plastic chairs she stored there over the winter. Done. Josey would pick them up, and that would be the end of the Sam Haney chapter of her life.
Still a weepy mess, she returned for her glass of wine and grabbed a few paper towels as well. A comfy spot on her couch, a nice cozy throw over her lap, and she settled in for her own personal pity party. She picked up the remote control and searched for something on TV. One night of feeling sorry for herself was all she’d allow, and then she’d start a new chapter, hopefully one that didn’t lead to more heartache.
Sam pulled his van into his spot at Haney & Sons and cut the engine. He sat for a minute and stared through the windshield. Seeing Haley last night had done him in. His arms and legs still had the consistency of overcooked spaghetti noodles. His weakened state might have something to do with a lack of sleep and a lack of protein, but both of those problems were Haley related. So, yeah, his plug had been pulled, and he’d been drained of every last ounce of energy.
If he kept this up, he’d be a boneless blob soon. Wyatt could turn him into one of his cartoon characters. Blob Man. What would his evil superpower be? Breaking hearts? I have feelings too, and you’ve hurt them. Haley’s words refused to leave him in peace. They’d kept him up all night, left fresh score marks on his heart and a load of guilt squatting in his gut.
He’d better eat something, or he wouldn’t be able to work. Maybe someone brought pastries this morning. He climbed out and headed for the kitchen and his assignments for the day. Now that the custom house had been completed, he’d been put back on the handyman roster. So far he’d been lucky, and his clients had been elderly couples with simple maintenance jobs they wanted done.
Was Grandpa Joe giving him those kinds of assignments on purpose? Gramps still liked to do things the old-fashioned way, handing out jobs in person. It would be so much easier if they switched to tablets. An e-mail with an address first thing in the morning, and he wouldn’t have to see anybody. After all, that’s how they coordinated their contracted workers, but then the contract workers already owned tablets. Convincing Grandpa Joe to buy technology for Haney & Sons would take a miracle.
“Hi, S-Sam.” Jerry smiled as he hung his coat on the coat tree in the corner.
“Hey, Jerry. How’s it hanging?” Nope, not even a stale doughnut on the table. He’d have to do a drive-through on his way to his first job, grab a breakfast sandwich and eat it on the way.
“It’s h-hanging. Want to see a movie with me t-tonight, Sam?”
“Absolutely, let’s hang out. I’d like that.”
“I miss h-hockey.”
“Me too. Hopefully, we’ll do better in the tournament next year. In the meantime, we have hockey camp to look forward to.” He took a seat at the table. “I’ll come get you at your house around five thirty. Choose a movie sometime today.”
“Brrr, I hate winter.” Josey stomped through the door, shivering and rubbing her arms. “Good morning, Jerry, Sam. Where is everybody?”
“D-dad and Grandpa are checking phone messages,” Jerry told her. “Wyatt is in the bathroom.”
“Thanks for the Wyatt update,” Josey said with a snort. “You OK, Sam? You don’t look so good.” She tugged off her mittens and came at him with a hand outstretched, like she intended to feel his forehead.
He leaned out of her reach. “Yeah, I’m fine, just fighting something, I guess.” Heat crept up his neck. He was fighting something all right, but it had nothing to do with germs. “A cold maybe, and it’s wearing me out.”
Hurt happens, but so do love and happiness. He shook his head, attempting to dislodge Haley’s voice from his mind. That last bit should be in one of those positive affirmation books, or better yet, made into a bumper sticker. Add a stick figure family at the end, tweak to read Shit happens, but so do love and happiness, and it would be perfect.
Grandpa Joe walked into the kitchen, a clipboard and a few yellow message sheets in his hand. Wyatt strolled in behind him. “Here are today’s jobs,” Gramps said, putting the clipboard on the table. “And a few leads for estimates.” He handed out the messages to each of them. Josey read one of hers, raised her head and scowled at Sam.
“What?” Had she gotten a lead from one of his pre-radio-show clients, and it included a coded phrase or something?
“Nothing.” She moved to the clipboard and paged through the sheets until she found hers. She tugged it out from under the clip and left.
Sam studied his. Simple. Leaky faucets, clogged drains, install a new ceiling fan, nothing too challenging. Scanning his jobs, he mentally arranged them in order to minimize mileage and bring him the closest to his apartment at the end of the day. He’d change, and head to his uncle Dan’s house for Jerry.
Regretting the lack of doughnuts, he headed out the door in search of the nearest Mickey D’s before giving his first client a call. He was driving to his first job when his phone rang with Josey’s ringtone. He hit the Speaker button on his phone. “What do you need, Jo?”
“Hello to you too. I don’t need anything. I called to see if we could meet at The Bulldog after work.”
“Not tonight. I promised I’d take Jerry to see a movie.”
“How about lunch at Keys then? We could meet around one.”
“I could do that. Which one? Lexington or Raymond Avenue?”
“Lexington. Text me if we need to change the time. See you.”
She ended the call before he could respond. Even for Josey that had been abrupt. Something must be bugging her. He pulled up to the curb in front of his job. He’d be installing a ceiling fan in the family room of a two-story home. A daycare sign in the yard caught his eye, and the tension he hadn’t known he carried, eased. The homeowner would be occupied. Grandpa Joe was obviously filtering the jobs he assigned to him.
“Thank you, Gramps.” He wasn’t in the mood to fend off advances. Would he ever be in the mood again? Maybe not now, but dammit, he’d been happy before Loaded Question aired. At least, he’d thought he’d been. Could he be happy again if he went back to the strings-free, recreational safe-sex lifestyle? Worth thinking about, anyway.
He worked his way through the morning, finishing his third job in plenty of time to reach Keys Café. By the time he pulled into the lot of the strip mall, Josey’s and Wyatt’s vans were already there. Josey hadn’t mentioned Wyatt, but no big deal. Sam parked and climbed out of his van, already mentally going through the menu to see if anything sparked his appetite.
The scent of baked goods and burgers frying on the grill enveloped him. He caught sight of Wyatt and Jo sitting in a booth toward the rear of the café, and made his way toward them. Josey slid out of the seat, gesturing for him to sit on the inside. OK, that was different, but maybe she had somewhere to go soon. “Hey, how’s the day going for you two?” he asked, sliding into the booth and picking up a menu.
Josey sat back down. “Fine, Sam. How about you?”
Both of them were eyeing him intently. “What?”
“This is an intervention,” Wyatt informed him. “We’re concerned about you. You’ve lost weight, you have dark circles under your eyes, and we haven’t seen you smile since Haley’s open house.”
“You look like shit,” Josey added with a nod.
“Come on.” Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m not doing drugs or abusing alcohol, if that’s what’s worrying you two mother hens.”
“Not that kind of intervention,” Josey said, sliding one of Grandpa Joe’s yellow messages toward him. “What happened?”
Frowning, Sam snatched up the scrap of paper and scanned it. Haley’s name, the date the call came in and the time were all filled out in Grandpa Joe’s familiar scrawl.
Haley Cooper called and said you and Sam left your bowls at her house.
They’re in the breezeway. She wants you to pick them up ASAP.
“Oh.” All the air left his lungs. He could insist it was none of their business, but they’d peck at him until he caved. No wonder Josey had sat on the outside. She’d blocked his escape. Their server appeared then, giving Sam time to avoid the topic. “I’ll have the grilled cheese, tomato and bacon sandwich with chips and a cup of tomato soup,” he said, stacking his menu on top of Wyatt’s and Jo’s. “And a Coke.”
While his keepers ordered, he contemplated how much he had to share to satisfy them. The minimum. The two turned back to him the second the server walked away. Best to get this over with. “Things ended with Haley before they went too far,” Sam told them.
“How far is too far in your world, Sam?” Wyatt asked. “You stayed at Haley’s the night of her open house. Was it to explain your aversion to emotional intimacy and end things there, or did you wait until after you’d slept with her?”
Sam’s jaw clenched. “That’s none of your business.”
“I’ve got to say this, because I’m your brother and I love you. The way you treat women really bothers me. It’s wrong. You have some serious issues.” Wyatt’s jaw muscles ticked away. “You said you weren’t going to cross the line with Haley. You said you wouldn’t hurt her.”
“Hey, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m the one with the circles under my eyes and no appetite,” he snapped. “Haley looks great. Got her hair cut short and everything. She didn’t appear to be suffering last Thursday night when I went to see her.”
“She dumped you?” Jo reached out and patted his arm. “Oh, God. We had it all wrong. I’m sorry, Sam. We could see how into her you were, and we hoped—”
“No.” He squirmed, unable to look either of them in the eye. “I had a panic attack the night of her party, well, early the morning after, actually. I had to get out of there, and I left in a big fat hurry without telling her what was going on. I went back to apologize and to explain. We left it there with no hard feelings.” His chest tightened. “I never meant to hurt her, and yeah, she got to me, but . . .” He shook his head. “I can’t do the relationship thing.” His brother and sister shared a long look.
“Sam, do you remember how it was with Mom and Dad, how they were with each other?” Josey asked.
He nodded.
“Me too,” Wyatt said, his tone wistful. “Even when they disagreed about something, it was crystal clear they loved each other.”
“Exactly.” Josey sighed. “I remember our house being filled with happiness. They made each other laugh, and they were always hugging and kissing—each other and us. I want that again, which is why I keep looking for Mr. Right. How can you not want what we had as kids?”
“Haley was great, Sam. We liked her a lot,” Wyatt added. “With her, you could’ve had what our parents had. It was obvious you two were falling for each other. Don’t you want a family for yourself? I know I do.”
Sam’s eyes burned, and he kept his gaze fixed on the table.
“Do you think if Mom or Dad were here right now, either one of them would say they regretted the love they’d shared, even though it meant one of them would suffer losing the other first?” Jo asked. “What do you think they’d say about the way you keep that heart of yours locked away? It’s like you’re betraying what they taught us through their example.”
“I’m not betraying anything. You don’t know what it’s like for me,” he rasped out. “The panic attacks . . .”
Wyatt tugged at his sweatshirt’s hoodie on his head. “Right. No possibility of understanding here,” he said with a grunt.
“Look, I appreciate what you two are trying to do here, but it’s over. Haley would never take me back now anyway.”
“You don’t know that.” Josey shot him an exasperated look. “Do you love her?”
“I’m afraid so.” And it wasn’t the kind of love that would fade with time either. His was the kind of love that robbed him of sleep, stole his breath and gave him no peace.
“Then do something about your panic attacks and go beg her for a second chance.” Wyatt scowled at him. “What you’re going through right now, the loss of appetite and sleeplessness, listen to your body, because it’s telling you turning away from Haley was the wrong thing to do. There are antianxiety meds for the panic attacks. Get a prescription already, talk to a shrink and get a life.”
“I will if you will.” Sam scowled back.
“If that’s what it’ll take, then make the appointment. We’ll go see a shrink together.”
“Thank God I’m well adjusted.” Josey cracked a smile.
Wyatt laughed, and Sam couldn’t help but grin. “You know what Haley calls memories? She says they’re flotation devices, there to help keep us afloat through the tough times.”
“Smart woman,” Wyatt said. “Not to mention she’s really pretty, and then there’s the way she handles a sledgehammer.”
Sam chuckled. “There is that.” And so much more. “I’ll think about it, and as lame as this intervention has been, I do appreciate your concern.”
“Plus our support. Don’t forget we’re here to help.” Wyatt smirked. “If you want, we can all go to Haley’s house together. Jo and I will stand right behind you while you beg her to take you back.”
“Humph.” Their food came, and Sam forced himself to eat, while memories from his childhood bobbed around in his head. Happy memories of his mother and father and how secure he’d felt back then. He tried to imagine himself as a father, a husband. Haley had told him he’d make a great dad. We could be together. You haven’t prevented anything, Sam, all you’ve done is cut yourself off . . .
What would his parents have to say about that? It was true; he had cut himself off. He’d made that choice long before he met Haley, and it had served him well. He’d been satisfied with his life, and now he was a wreck. What a mess.
He didn’t know what to do, but he had a feeling he’d be up all night thinking again. If by chance he did manage to sleep, he was certain his dreams would be filled with Haley dressed in a superhero outfit, her sledgehammer at the ready and her face flushed with passion. God, he missed her.