Chapter Three

“I can’t believe you invited him to lunch.” I peeled the carrot I held with a vengeance over the kitchen sink.

Daddy laughed and Momma kept stirring the lemon sauce for her blueberry Bundt cake.

Daddy kissed my cheek. “Don’t get yourself worked up. I don’t need you upsetting my grandson.”

“We don’t know it’s a boy.” I was certain it was a girl, because a girl would look like me and not the sperm donor.

“I’d bet money. We need someone to carry on the Dixon name.”

“You’re trying to change the subject.”

“Honey, he was our neighbor.” Momma was always first to back up her husband.

“So? That was a long time ago.”

She turned from the stove and smiled at me. “So were some other things.” She was beautiful and right, but still. She brushed back her red hair like she was still flirting with Daddy.

He took the cue and kissed her.

Why couldn’t I have love like that? I went back to peeling the carrots for the salad. “Maybe I should go into town. I could go look at the red bungalow near the pier.” I knew I probably shouldn’t. It was a lot more than I wanted to pay, but the pictures online looked divine. It had shiplap walls just like I adored and this rustic but modern feel to it. I was already half in love with it. And it was off the beach, but on the other side of the bay.

“Nonsense. That would be rude.” Momma chastened me.

Do you know what’s rude? Telling someone you love them in one breath and then walking away from them in the next. “I don’t think he would mind.”

“You were such good friends. I think it would mean a lot if you stayed.” She laid on the guilt.

I wanted to say “were” was the operative word. As in past tense. Last time I saw him—before yesterday—he left me standing on the beach crying. But Momma was right, that was a long time ago. Even if sometimes it didn’t feel like that. Maybe it was the sting of first love or perhaps the loss of a friend, a friend I always thought would be there. Either way, I could still feel the pain of it. I didn’t dwell on it. I obviously moved on and chose another man who would leave me. Declan probably thought it was me that left him. I was only taking my parents’ good advice to learn more about myself and to date more before I made such a huge commitment at eighteen. I wasn’t trying to end us; I wanted to save us, if that made sense.

I sighed. “You win. Do you want me to set the table?”

She handed Daddy her spoon and made her way to me. She put her arm around my shoulder. “You’re a good girl.”

“Momma, I’m almost thirty.”

She leaned her head against mine. “You will learn soon that your baby is always your baby. I love you. Now go set the table.”

I smiled. “Inside or out?”

“It’s such a beautiful day, let’s eat on the veranda.” She always put a little flair in when she pronounced veranda. She loved this three-story shingled-style home for the verandas on each level.

I loved it too, and the people in it. I needed them now more than ever. But I really needed to get my own place. And decide what to do with my life. I thought about opening my own financial planning firm. I didn’t know if Indigo Bay would be the best place for that. I would probably have to look at the Charleston area. Did that mean I should buy a house in Charleston? I could rent, but I hated throwing money away.

My parents were all for me staying until after the baby was born. Decisions, decisions.

I took a moment to breathe in the sea air before I set the patio table for four. I still couldn’t believe Declan was coming over. I looked over to my right at his old home. It stood about a thousand feet away. It was a darling two-story home in all white. I spent a lot of time over there and he over here. My parents always liked him. He was polite and would always offer to help Momma with anything from taking out the trash to filling the dishwasher. Momma used to say that someday he would make some lucky girl a good husband. She said it might even be me, but time would tell. She wanted us to take our time.

I stretched my lower back. I did that a lot lately. This baby seemed to camp out back there. I set the table, making sure to fold the linen napkins in the goblets like Momma liked. I walked through the sliding glass door in time to hear the doorbell ring. I took a deep breath and looked down at my linen shorts and navy chiffon blouse that showed off my baby bump that seemed to grow a little more each day. I didn’t mind. It reminded me there were good things—the best things—to look forward to.

Daddy went to answer the door while I helped Momma put the finishing touches on the baked chicken and spring vegetables we were serving for lunch. It smelled fantastic. And Momma was all about the presentation, so it looked as good as it smelled. Even the water would be poured from a crystal pitcher. Her hostess skills she had passed down helped me as the wife of an executive. I could throw a good party if I had to. Thoughts for another time. I had to focus on the man walking in holding two bouquets of flowers.

His smile said he knew he was charming.

Momma fell for it hook, line, and sinker. She ran to him and hugged him, crushing the mixed bouquet and the violet tulips, my favorite, between them. “Declan, look at you.” She barely reached the middle of his chest. She was shorter than me. “You’re all grown up and looking so handsome.”

He smiled at me before addressing Momma. “You don’t look a day over thirty, Mrs. Dixon.” Yep, he was a salesman, and a good one.

“Hey there, young fella, get your own girl.” Daddy winked at me.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Instead I turned to grab the platter full of food to take outside.

Declan rushed to my side with hands still full of flowers. “Let me get that.”

“I’ve got it, thanks.”

His blue eyes shined. And those lashes of his. He looked nice, too, in a short-sleeved button-up and shorts. He held out the violet tulips. “These are for you.”

I wasn’t sure what to do. I looked down at my full hands. I guess I could have set the platter down, but my brain wasn’t functioning properly.

“Why don’t we swap?” Declan suggested.

“How about,” Daddy swooped in, “I take the food and you put those flowers in some water?”

How could I say no?

“Mrs. Dixon, these are for you.” Declan handed Momma the pastel bouquet.

Momma kissed his cheek. “Always said you were a good catch. Melanie, darling, will you put these in a vase too and bring them out? We’ll set them on the table.”

I nodded and took her flowers. Declan still held mine.

“I’ll help Mel.” Declan announced.

My parents rushed out laughing as they went. I was beginning to think they were trying to set me up. Hello. I was recently divorced and pregnant. This was not a good time. And Declan . . . well, he had walked away.

“No need. I’ll be out soon. You can lay those on the island.” I turned from Declan to search for two vases.

“You used to say thank you when I brought you flowers.”

I stopped and took a breath. He was right, and no matter our past I should at least use my manners. I turned and he was closer than before. His cologne hit me. Wow, he smelled good, warm and sensual. I had to step back. “Thank you.” I peered into his eyes, which wasn’t the best idea. Those baby blues were as beautiful and intoxicating as they used to be. I felt sixteen again, which was ridiculous. I was a pregnant mother-to-be. I stepped back even more.

He handed me the tulips. A smile played in his eyes. “I hope these are still your favorite.”

I hesitated to take them. “You really shouldn’t have.”

He pushed them forward some more. “Why? We’re old friends.”

I turned from him without taking the flowers. “That’s stretching the truth.”

“Maybe we’re not old.” Levity marked his words.

“Or friends.” I opened the cupboard that held some of Momma’s vases.

“Ouch. I’m pretty sure you wrote ‘best friends forever’ in my yearbook.”

I stood on my tiptoes to get the glass vase for Momma’s flowers, carefully pulling it out and setting it on the granite countertop. I was pretty sure he wrote some things in mine too—things that he didn’t mean. Like, I love you and something about me having the best body. He should see the tiny stretch marks I had going on. “Things change.”

“Not everything.” He handed me the flowers.

I took them and laid them next to Momma’s bouquet. “Thank you. Why don’t you join my parents? It’s going to take me a few minutes to properly care for these.”

“Perfect.” He leaned against the counter and faced me. “We can catch up.”

I sighed and pulled open a drawer near me looking for the kitchen scissors to trim the stems of the flowers.

“Looks like I’ll be doing the talking.” He edged closer.

I may have grinned.

“A smile. I can work that.”

I didn’t respond. I started trimming the stems. I knew better than to fall for his allure.

“You’ll be happy to know I graduated from college. I have a great credit score. Still showering and brushing my teeth every day. I do admit sometimes I forget to floss, but I always do extra the next day. Never been arrested except for that one time in Mexico.”

My head whipped toward him.

His smile said he knew he got to me. “I thought that might catch your attention.”

I shook my head at him.

He scooted closer. “I’ve never been arrested. How about you?”

“What do you think?” I turned back to the flowers.

“I think you look great.”

“I think you’re obligated to say that.”

“Obligated or not, it’s true.”

I inadvertently looked down at my midsection.

“Pregnancy suits you.”

I looked up at him, he was somehow closer. “Why are you here?”

“Your dad invited me for lunch.” He grinned.

“Why are you really here?”

He tugged on one of my curls. “I told you yesterday, I want to talk to you.”

I focused back on the flowers and started to fill the vase.

“I know we didn’t leave things on a good note.” That was an understatement on his part.

I haphazardly began placing the flowers in the vase. I wanted to say, well whose fault was that, but like I said, I couldn’t look back. I did it all too often without trying. “We were kids.” I shoved the rest of the flowers in the vase and picked it up. I didn’t need to be alone with him. He made me feel things—good and bad—that I didn’t want to.

He touched my arm. “It didn’t feel like that to me.”

I remembered feeling grown up too. How wrong I was. I had and still have so much to learn, it seemed. I looked down at his hand on my arm. His touch felt so familiar, like a piece of me that had come home. “My parents are waiting.”

He dropped his hand, but determination lingered in his eyes. “Let’s not keep them.”