A Weekend Getaway (20 page)

Her eyes blinked rapidly and a tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m
sorry.”

He swallowed and tried to absorb her apology. Sorry wasn’t
enough. After another mile, she still looked miserable and he fought the urge
to comfort her.

Squeezing the steering wheel, he considered his words
carefully. He had her apology and he knew she’d suffered over her choice. “I
like to think I would’ve done the right thing, but I’m not even sure what that
was. God knows I wasn’t exactly a saint back then.”

She turned toward him. “I’ve never told anyone so much. Thanks
for listening.” He heard her take a deep breath. “So, are you still going to
sue me?”

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

Before Parker could answer, Beth’s cell phone rang. Caller
i.d.
indicated that it was Drew. Had he called to make
amends? Glancing at Parker, she wondered what he had been about to say about
the lawsuit. She hesitated but finally answered the phone on the fifth ring.

“Where are you? You didn’t show up for work.” Drew sounded
concerned.

“I’m on my way to Texas.”

“Texas? Why?”

“I told you my daughter is willing to meet me. So I’m going
to see her.”

“Oh.” The sound of his exhale came over the line. “I was
worried about you.”

Her heart ached. “I didn’t think you cared.” Did she have
the strength to walk away from him for good? She loved snuggling up next to him
watching Star Trek re-runs. She loved the way he rubbed her shoulders when she
was tense. She loved the way his Victorian house felt like home.

“Emma’s coming over this weekend,” he said, filling the
awkward silence. “I’m feeling better so I’m going to watch her while Missy goes
job hunting.”

Leaving Emma would be the toughest part about breaking up
with Drew. She’d never dated a man with children. She even refused to do
matchmaking if someone had kids because it wasn’t fair to play with a child’s affections.
But Drew’s niece had dropped into their laps after they’d moved in together.
Fortunately Beth had instantly been drawn to her. “Say hi to Emma for me
please.”

“Is this really it? You’re leaving me because I’m mad you
lied?”

He hadn’t called to apologize. Her lungs deflated. “We don’t
want the same things.” If he did, he’d ask her to become Mrs. Drew Holmes.

“What we have works. Why risk it by getting married?”

Ouch. She stole a glance at Parker who fiddled with the
radio station, pretending not to listen. Bravery filled her. “Because
everything wonderful involves a risk. Because I deserve more.” Wow. Standing up
for herself, finally saying this out loud, made her feel strong. Talking on the
phone, as always, was so much easier than face-to-face. She held her chin high.
“Good-bye.”

After she hung up, she stared at the tiny phone in her palm.
Her hands trembled. Another year wasted. For sure she’d never have a baby now.

She kept her focus on the phone. “Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize. Remember what I said? Only apologize
for things that are your fault.” He turned down the country song on the radio.
“Are you alright?”

She nodded. “It’s just a lot of stuff happening all at once.
Breaking up with the man I’d hoped to marry, meeting the daughter I put up for
adoption, getting sued by you. . . .”

He took a deep breath but didn’t address her concerns.

They drove for a while without speaking. A check of her
watch against the GPS time estimate of arrival caused her muscles to tense. “I
hope we make it to Hannah’s art show.”

“Our little detour this morning slowed us down, but now that
the snow has stopped, I’ll speed up.”

Her body felt the effects of his foot pressing harder on the
accelerator. “Why do you think Hannah invited us?”

“I guess she wants to get to know us better.”

She swallowed the saliva pooling in her throat. “I tried to
tell Mrs. Taylor about your condition, but she cut me off. You said if you had
a kid, you’d tell her. Do you still feel that way?”

His knuckles turned white around the steering wheel. “I
don’t want her pity. I do want her to know there’s a chance she has it, so she can
decide whether she wants to get tested or not.”

She nodded. “You waited a while to find out, didn’t you?”

“Yes. I tried not to think about it, but it was always in
the back of my mind, you know?”

She did know. That’s how she felt about giving up her baby.

He took a deep breath. “A few months ago I noticed my
thoughts and emotions were getting muddled. Then the tremors started and I
knew. That’s when I went to the doctor.”

“I wonder if Hannah has it.” The horror of that thought made
Beth shiver. “Are you prepared to tell her about it this weekend?”

His eyes stayed focused on the highway. “That won’t come up
easily in conversation, will it? Hi, I’m dying and you might have a terminal
illness, too.”

Not knowing what to say, she studied his stoic face. She
propped her elbow up on the passenger door. “If it helps, I’ll be there with
you when you tell her.”

He didn’t respond.

A few minutes later “White Christmas” started playing on the
radio station and Beth’s spirits lifted. “I love this song.”

“Me, too. I bet they don’t have too many white Christmases
in Texas.” At this point, they’d left the wintry weather behind them. Parker
passed the pick-up with a gun rack in front of him. “It wouldn’t feel like
Christmas for me without snow.”

“I like snow then, but the rest of the year, it’s a pain in
the behind.”

He started singing the famous melody. She liked that he
wasn’t too macho to sing in front of her. She joined in.

When the song finished, he blushed. “I know I’m no Bing
Crosby. Ivy always reminds me of that.”

“You were fine. That’s the great thing about Christmas
carols. You just sing from your heart and don’t worry about how you sound.”
“Have a Holly Jolly Christmas” with banjos started playing. They hammed it up
with exaggerated Southern accents.

When the song ended, she smiled. “What was Christmas like
for you growing up?”

“My family is Belgian so we were visited by St.
Niklaas
, not Santa Claus.”

“Really?” Maybe that’s why Ivy had those pictures of Belgian
castles on her phone.

“And he visited us twice—once on December fourth to
find out who had been good or bad. Then on December sixth, we left out baskets
with carrots for his horse on the doorstep. If we were good, he’d give us candy
and toys.”

“What if you were bad?”

“Well, I always was good.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.
“But legend had it that he’d leave us sticks.”

“Interesting. So, you didn’t do anything on December
twenty-fifth?”

“Sure we did. But that was strictly about Jesus’s birth. The
whole month of December, though, we’d do good deeds for our neighbors. My dad
and I would shovel the driveway of the widow next door. My mom would send me
over there with a loaf of
cougnou
, which was this
yummy sweet bread.”

“That’s neat.” She liked the way the skin around Parker’s
eyes crinkled when he talked about his traditions. “How do you say ‘Merry
Christmas’ in Belgian?”

“It matters which part of Belgium you’re from.
Joyeux
Noel is for those from the French part and
Vrolijk
Kerstfeest
en
een
Gulekkig
Nieuwjaar
is the Dutch.”

“Wow. I’ll stick with
Joyeux
Noel.”

“To be fair, the Dutch greeting also includes happy new
year.”

“Which part of the country was your family from?”

“The south. My great-grandparents immigrated to the states
right after World War II. There was a whole Belgian community in Mishawaka
where I grew up.” He scratched his chin. “What about you?”

“My parents didn’t encourage me to believe the Santa Claus
myth, saying it detracted from the whole meaning of Christmas. That’s what’s
nice about your tradition because it separates the two events.”

“I like how my parents taught me to be more thankful for
family than the gifts I’d receive. The widow next door didn’t have any children
of her own to visit over the holidays. My parents always pointed that out with
a sad tone in their voice, like not having kids was a tragedy.”

Beth tried to swallow her regret. “It can be.”

“You’re telling me. Now that I’m staring death in the eye,
all of my success in business seems futile. Who cares? I never got to see my
children run down the stairs and check outside the door for St.
Niklaas’s
chocolates.” He shook his head. “Somehow I think
seeing the joy on their faces would mean more than all the money in the world.”

Beth squirmed in her seat. She shared this painful loss with
him and yet she could be blamed for it. Quiet filled the vehicle.

She was actually pleased when her cell phone rang a little
while later. Even if it was her boss. “Hello, Luke.”

“Beth, today we had another meeting to discuss your decanter
bottle idea.”

She shivered with excitement. “Did you tell them about the
different colors? I mean, why do vitamin bottles always have to be brown?”

“They’re not going to do it.”

“What? Why not?” She hated that she hadn’t been there to
fight for her idea. “All of my research showed it would appeal to the female
consumer, which is the majority of our business.”

“The problem is it’s too expensive. Changing the shape of
the bottle costs too much in manufacturing. Plus someone pointed out that the
bottles won’t fit into the boxes for shipping as compactly. You really
should’ve been here for the meeting today. You don’t sound sick.”

“It’s
something.
. . personal.”

“Personal. When you’re bucking for a promotion, trying to
get noticed, you shouldn’t be taking days off of work. I assume you’ll be back
Monday.”

She sighed. “If my flight isn’t cancelled.”

“Flight? Where the heck are you?”

She glanced out the window at the hills. “I’m not sure.
Kansas maybe.”

“You’d better be here on Monday or you can kiss any chances
of getting out of customer service good-bye.” He hung up the phone and she
imagined him slamming it then raking feverishly in his mini-sand garden.

Parker looked at her. “I hate to break this to you, but
we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

They both laughed. She’d needed that.

He glanced at her. “The truth is we never were in Kansas.
Geography isn’t your strong suit, is it?”

“I guess not.”

He returned his focus to the road. “So, you’re not riding
back with me?”

It almost sounded as if he wanted her company. “I wish I
could, but I need to get to work.”

He made an “hmmm” sound with his throat. More quiet miles
passed between them. Eventually, his eyes checked the dashboard. “I need to
stop for gas.” At the next exit, he pulled in to a station. After filling up,
he went inside to use the restroom.

She watched as a family of four in a station wagon left the
next pump. They had a cat sitting on top of suitcases, a dachshund staring out
the window and a boy and a girl laughing in the backseat. Long after they’d
left her view, she continued staring into the distance. Because she’d been an
only child, she’d always hoped to have at least two kids, to give them the gift
of a sibling.

Parker opened up his door and handed her a triangular shaped
candy bar. “You’re not going to believe what I found.” He sounded like a kid
who’d happened upon a silver dollar on the sidewalk.

She looked at the yellow package and read the letters. “
Toblerone
. Is this Belgian chocolate?” Her mouth salivated.
She’d never had Belgian chocolate.

“It’s the next best thing.” He smirked. “Swiss chocolate.” He’d
bought two candy bars and unwrapped the one still in his hand. “Sometimes St.
Nicklaas
would leave these in our baskets along with Godiva
chocolates.”

She knew she shouldn’t eat it. The morning’s waffle had
already blown her diet. Why not continue the gluttony? Especially since a treat
might help her deal with her nerves.

Peeling back the foil revealed a row of pyramids. One bite
of the honey and nougat ruined her from ever enjoying a Hershey bar again. It
was so good, she could write a poem about the chocolate melting on her tongue.

She’d denied herself for far too long.

# # #

“We’re not
gonna
make it.” As
darkness fell, Beth realized they couldn’t drive to Hannah’s house before the
show. She picked up her cell phone and dialed. “Mrs. Taylor, we’re running
late. If you give me the address of the art museum, we can meet you there.” The
woman sounded a little curt as she searched for the information. Beth hung up
and turned to Parker. “How do I program this into your GPS?”

He pushed some buttons on the console. “Damn it. If I hadn’t
hit that poor dog . . . .”

“Or if our flight hadn’t been cancelled because of the snow
storm. Don’t beat yourself up. We’re almost there. That’s all that matters.”

“Would you mind calling the vet’s office again?”

She’d called earlier, but the dog still remained in shock.
They hadn’t found his owners, either. Now she dialed again. “I’m calling about
the German shepherd that got hit by a car.”

A young man answered. “Dog’s name?”

“I don’t know. We brought him in this morning and he didn’t
have a tag.”

“Give me a minute. I just clean the cages. Most of the staff
has gone home, but I’ll try to find someone”

She patted her thigh as she waited. “Please someone be
there,” she whispered.

“Ma’am?” It was a young female voice and Beth pictured the
woman with the rosy cheeks they’d met earlier.

“Yes. How is he?”

“He has a broken leg, but otherwise he’s good. His name is
Skip and his owners have been located. They stopped by earlier and apparently
Skip perked right up when he heard his master’s voice.”

“Thank you so much. Thank the doctor again for us.” She
ended the call and turned to see Parker smiling. “Good news.”

Unfortunately, red taillights flashed in front of them.
Traffic slowed to a stop.

She craned her neck to see. “Uh-oh. Looks like a car
accident up ahead.”

An hour later they found the art museum and Parker parked in
a lot nearby. They burst out of the vehicle and ran toward the four-story gray
building. She pulled on the front door, but it was locked. They were so late!