Man of the Month (Willowdale Romance Novel) (20 page)

Brad forced a smile. “Maybe next time. I was wondering if my brother’s in.” He couldn’t wait until he got home to talk to him. Times like this, he really missed his mother. Undoubtedly, she’d have some good advice. That’s what mothers did, right? She’d probably whack him in the head and tell him to marry Jeanne.

“Tommy’s back in his office,” Dolly said. “He just got in after picking up Burt Conroy for riding his tractor into town. Again.” She tugged on her sweater. “Seems like maybe we should create a special ordinance for him.”

“Thanks.” Brad felt like he was marching down to the principal’s office. He’d had a lot of experience with that, whether it was goofing off in class or horsing around in the halls. He knocked on Tommy’s door and peeked in. “Got a minute?”

“Sure, sit down. What’s up? More business problems?” Tommy asked.

Brad let out a sigh for the ages as he sat down across the desk from Tommy. “Wish it was as easy as that. No, Jeanne’s been lying to me. She’s pregnant, and I’m the father.”

Tommy’s eyes widened, and he puffed up his cheeks. “Damn.”

“I know.”

Tommy turned up his hands. “But you love her.”

“Bro, you know I can’t be a father.” Brad drummed his fingers on his thighs.

“Cut the crap. We came from the same shit situation, and you don’t see me hurting my child. Jane is one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. It wouldn’t be any different for you.”

“You don’t know that.”

Tommy looked up at the ceiling. “I know
you
, and you wouldn’t do that.”

“Even if I believed that, she lied to me. She told me it was some dude in Whitesville. How do I get over that?”

Tommy shook his head, and his usual tough-guy look softened. “You’re going to lose the woman you love. Let me tell you how much that sucks. I’m happy Kate’s doing so well with Teague. But it took a long time to get over that.” A note of hurt still tinged his voice.

“Exactly. The baby ruined everything. It’s doing the same for me.”

Tommy stood up and walked over to him. He squatted down next to Brad’s chair. “Don’t screw this up. Make this work. You’ll be a good father.”

Brad stood. “I’ll give her what she needs to take care of the baby. That’s the best I can do.”

“What she needs is you.”

Brad said nothing and left.

BRAD BAGGED up the dirty litter from Jeanne’s cat box and dropped it in the trash.

“You’ve got to give me something else to do so I can help you.” He couldn’t be there emotionally, but he’d do whatever else he could. “Should I throw you one of those baby parties?”

She blinked at him. “You mean a baby shower?”

“Yeah. I’m not sure what goes on at one, but I could figure it out.”

“No. I already told the girls I didn’t want one. Kate and Becca are saving their baby stuff for me.”

“But there’s got to be something I should be doing. Besides changing your litter box.”

She set down her dish of ice cream. She’d stopped weighing herself a month ago and couldn’t imagine the damage her sweet tooth was causing her bottom. There was something to be said for stretchy pants. “Brad I’m fine. Cleaning the cat box really helps.”

He walked circles around her couch, grimacing and balling his fists. Aunt Betty had had a dog that did the same anxious circling thing. A hunting dog that never got to bound through the woods or sink his teeth into his master’s kill. Jeanne imagined how tough it must be for a control freak to have no projects to plan for his unplanned child.

She sighed. “You could get my place childproofed.”

He twisted his lips, clearly not understanding the concept, but not wanting to admit it. “Seeing how effective my condoms were, I think we can agree I know nothing about childproofing.”

She snatched a throw pillow from the couch and launched it at him.

He ducked and laughed. “I’ll do it. Just tell me what it is.”

“Corner protectors, covers on the electrical outlets. Stuff like that. Make sure you research it all first.” That’d keep him busy for a while.

He snapped his fingers. “I’m on it.” And he dashed out the door.

Jeanne’s mouth was still hanging open when he came back in two minutes later.

“I got half way down your street when I realized I had no idea where to get that kind of stuff.”

She laughed. “Most big department stores. Smart Mart. There are big box baby stores in Whitesville that have everything.”

“So why haven’t we been going there?”

Had he forgotten he didn’t want this baby? That he didn’t want her? He was just on a planning high.

“I don’t know if I’m having a boy or a girl. And like I said, Kate and Becca have most the stuff I need.”

“Well, consider the babyproofing done. I’ll be back later.”

Again, he was back two minutes later. “I need to count how many outlets you have.” And he spent the next half hour with a pen and notepad, scratching down tallies and measuring door openings.

She figured she’d see him later that weekend. But he was back seven hours later loaded with bags. “I know it’s late, but mind if I get started installing this stuff?”

She set her magazine down on her enormous baby bulge. “What on earth did you buy?”

He sat on the floor with the bags, like a kid at Christmas. A smile split his face as he unloaded the goods. “Furniture corner cushions, a choke tube tester—you can put things in there to be sure they’re not too small for the baby. I think you’re going to have to get rid of all your earrings. An alarm for the tub in case the water comes out too hot. Window guards so the kid can’t fall out. A couple different baby gates.”

She whistled and made a time out sign. “Brad, I live in a one-story ranch. I’m not real worried about a child falling out a first floor window, and there are no stairs to gate off.”

He looked hurt. “But you’ve got door openings. What if you’re cooking and you want to keep the baby from toddling in and touching the hot oven? We need to gate off the kitchen.”

She rolled her eyes and conceded a shrug. “Is all this stuff for my place, or did you get doubles for your place, too?”

He set down the first aid kit he was examining. “No. I didn’t get anything for my place.”

“Right.” She rocked her enormous self to the side, shifted to her hands and knees and slowly stood up. “Let’s call it a day, Brad. I’m awful tired. Why don’t you come back and install this stuff later? I’m going to be at Becca’s, so I won’t even be in your way. Grab the spare key behind the flour canister.”

They stared at each other until Brad looked down at his boots. “Will do. Have fun tomorrow.”

WHEN JEANNE came home the next day after visiting her sister, her place looked safe enough to host a daycare center. She’d been hoping Brad would still be there, but he was gone. She shuffled to the kitchen to get a bowl and spoon for her goodnight ice cream. She had it three times a day now, and usually went for something fruity at night. But the drawer was locked. And so was the cupboard.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and called Brad. “Did you put locks on all my cabinets.”

“Sure did.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

“I wasn’t real concerned about the baby climbing onto the counter and getting into the dishes.”

“Just push the door in, reach under the handle and release the latch.”

She set down the phone and tried three times to do just that. “Brad, get over here and take off these safety locks.”

“Fine. But don’t come crying to me when the baby breaks all the dishes.”

Brad was there in ten minutes with his bucket of tools, removing the safety locks while grumbling to himself about busy hands and creative little minds.

When he finished he said, “Don’t think I’ll be putting these back in for you, either.”

“If I need them, I’ll figure out how to reinstall them. There’s lots I’m going to have to do on my own.”

Brad rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the floor. “I’ll do my best.”

“Don’t you worry about us. We’ll be fine.” And since he’d locked up her knives, and she wouldn’t be able to cut the tension in the room, she said, “We’re all set on supplies for the New Year’s bash, right?”

“Yep. Two weeks away. Mitch and Dina are helping out that night. I think we’ve got it covered if you want to stay home, especially since it’s all outdoors. Could be too much for you.”

“Nope. Could be our last event for Elegant Eats. I want to be there.”

He nodded. “All right then. I think I’ve got all the safety stuff here covered. Let me know if you need anything else.”

He let himself out, and she wished to God there was a safety lock for her heart, ’cause it just didn’t stop hurting.

CHRISTMAS CAME, and Jeanne dreaded it. She had no magical memories of the holidays. Aunt Betty always gave the girls practical gifts, and very few at that. These past few years with Brad had been a blast, finding each other special little gifts. She normally spent hours combing antique stores for the old kitchen gear he secretly cherished.

But this year’s gift was different.

“Hey, I needed these,” he said, unwrapping the expensive suede gloves.

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“And here is yours,” he said, pushing a big box in front of her.

With no clue what he could be giving her—last year he’d gotten her a collection of floral food flavorings, rose, lavender, and violet, along with special cookware from Sweden—she tore off the shiny red paper to find a motorized, self-cleaning litter box. “Wow.”

“I know, right? Now you’ll never have to clean the cat box again.”

“Should have gotten one of these earlier. You wouldn’t have had to stop by at all.”

“I didn’t mind. I like Scooter.” He clapped his hands together. “So, Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, you too.”

“You can take the rest of the week off to rest up for New Year’s.”

With the way the baby was kicking and her heart was splitting, she could only nod. “Might be a good idea.”

“I’m sorry how things turned out this year, Jeanne. I really wanted to find you someone special. I’m sorry Man of the Month didn’t pan out.”

“I knew it wouldn’t. I was just humoring you.”

He nodded.

“And I’m sorry, too. Have you found a buyer for the business?”

“Events Extraordinaire’s interested. I’ll know after the first of the year. We should get enough to get our investment back. And then we can move on.”

Jeanne balled up the wrapping paper in her lap. She wanted to say, “Thanks for taking care of this. Knew I could count on you.” But she couldn’t. Brad was letting her down in more ways than one. Maybe it was a good thing he wasn’t going to be part of their lives anymore.

“I gotta get over to Tommy’s. He’s got Jane tonight.”

“Tell them Merry Christmas. And thank you for the gift, Brad.”

“You, too. Night Jeanne.” And he slipped out the door, like some sort of anti-Santa taking all the joy with him.

A FEW DAYS later, Jeanne and Brad were working in the kitchen at Elegant Eats getting ready for the New Year’s Bash. She pressed her hands against her lower back and groaned.

“Sit. Take a break,” Brad said.

“The bash is tomorrow. I’ve got two hundred more s’mores-on-a-stick to make. They’ll be a lot of fun over the bonfire. These were a great idea, Brad.”

“We’ll get ’em done. I’ll stay all night if I have to. I’ve been thinking you shouldn’t come tomorrow. I can hire some extra help.”

“Brad, I’m not due for over three weeks. Women in China work in the rice fields and deliver their babies right there. I’m not a lightweight.” She popped a marshmallow into her mouth.

And how many was that?
she asked herself. Well into double digits, for sure.

“Three weeks? I thought you were due in February?”

“I fudged the date when I wasn’t being totally honest with you.”

He opened his mouth to say something—and from the glint in his eye, it wasn’t going to be nice—but snapped his trap shut. Maybe he was smarter than she thought.

“I can pass these out on New Year’s without breaking a sweat.”
Just so long as I don’t eat them all
 . . .

“I’m not so worried about the work. We can get you a chair and set you up real nice.” He blew out a breath and sat across from her. “It’s going to be a tough night with the traffic light. A lot of memories. A lot of attention probably from well-meaning busybodies. We’ve got our share of them in Willowdale.”

“I know.” Jeanne sank onto her stool. “I can handle it. It’s a good thing. The town will be safer.”

Brad wouldn’t look at her. “It’s going to be emotional. Real emotional. I don’t know if I can handle seeing you cry.”

So this was about his feelings, not hers. “Then don’t stand next to me. But I’m going to be there. To remember.”

He laughed softly. “And here I just want to forget.”

And once upon a time, we both wanted the same things,
she thought. She rubbed her belly.
Except for this, of course.

“I’ll be there tomorrow. And I’ll be fine.”

NEW YEAR’S EVE was going to wrap up the year on a cold, snowy note. On a night when everyone was trying so hard to be festive and chipper, the weather sure wasn’t cooperating for the outdoor bash along Main Street. The road was blocked off with booths and tents set up for the party and the hundreds of revelers. The wind whipped up swirls of snow as Jeanne passed out cups of salted caramel hot chocolate to long lines of people, many of them repeat customers. Their state representative snatched another Styrofoam cup.

“Is that your fourth one?” Jeanne asked.

“No, couldn’t be,” he said with a smile, snagging one more as he walked away. “I just may have to hire you guys next time we have a town hall meeting in Whitesville.”

Jeanne forced a smile. She didn’t have the heart to tell him Elegant Eats wouldn’t be in business by then. “You be sure to give us a call.”

He tipped his hat and walked off.

Jeanne had promised Brad she wouldn’t let him see her cry, and she wasn’t going to start now. But she wasn’t sure what she was going to do once they closed up shop. Maybe they’d take her back at the residential center.

Kate and Teague walked up with little Lizzy bundled in their arms. “You’re gonna keep the baby out ’til midnight?” Jeanne asked.

“Nah, Teague will take her home. I want to be here with you tonight,” Kate said. “Tonya’s coming, too.”

Jeanne faked a big smile. “Thanks.” Her lip wobbled a bit, so she made a show of inspecting the giant dispenser of hot chocolate. “You guys go check out the wagon rides. Those Clydesdales are enormous.”

“Will do. And Teague wants to roast some s’mores for Lizzy,” Kate said. “You guys put together a great party. Everyone’s talking about what a nice job you’ve done here. I’ll catch up with you toward midnight.”

Jeanne was busy passing out candy cane crumble cookies and sweet potato praline cupcakes, pretending she didn’t notice everyone’s gaze traveling to her belly. She hadn’t seen lots of the folks in town for a while, but no doubt word had gotten around that she was pregnant with Brad’s baby. The news must’ve inspired hours of snickers and gossip.

Pansy Parker wandered over and grabbed two cups of cocoa. She jerked her chin at Jeanne’s midsection. “You picked out a name yet?”

“I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

“I meant the last name. Will it be Clark or Larsen?”

Jeanne was speechless. She hadn’t even thought about the last name. She remembered her big sister Gracie’s advice— “When you’ve got nothing to say, give ’em a great big smile.” Jeanne grinned so hard it hurt. “Pansy, have you tried our hazelnut popcorn balls?”

Brad came up behind her and handed Pansy a plate of cookies. “That should keep you busy eating for a while, instead of sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Pansy planted her fists on her hips instead of grabbing the cookies. “You’d know about sticking things where they don’t belong, now wouldn’t you? You stuck this girl real good.”

Jeanne felt a stab to her gut, or was that a kick from the baby?

If Pansy had been a man, she’d be flat on her back, and Brad would be shaking out his fist. But he just ignored Pansy and passed a few cups of cocoa to the group of teenagers next to her. “Jeanne, I’ve got this covered if you want to take off.”

“Brad Larsen, I told you I’m staying. I’m fine. I can handle the likes of Pansy Parker.” It was a good question, though. Rubbing her hands together, she asked, “Do you want the baby to be named Larsen?”

He set down his cup. “Well now, that’s up to you. Whatever you want.”

There was no sense arguing anymore. Brad was going to distance himself from this baby however he could.

She stood up—the effort taking almost five minutes—and went back to the prep tent pretending they needed more s’mores. Truth was, it hurt too much to be around Brad. Heck, even the baby acted up when he was around, like the little kiddo knew its father. Too bad it never would.

It was ten-thirty, and a few news crews from Asheville were on the scene to do live reports for the eleven o’clock news about the new traffic light. A tall, skinny brunette found Jeanne hiding in the tent, arranging the remaining cookies. Heck, everyone looked skinny to her these days.

“Are you Jeanne Clark?”

Jeanne knew where this was going. “I’m not interested in doing an interview about the traffic light.”

“It’s gotta be a tough night. And you’re business partners with Brad Larsen? The son of the woman who killed your parents?”

Jeanne closed her eyes and silently counted to ten. Then she faced the woman. “Yep, and after all these years, we just don’t have much to say.”

“Could be real good for your business. Makes an interesting feature piece, the two of you working together now.”

“We’ll manage without. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”

The reporter left, and Jeanne stood up then sat down again. All this standing had sent stabs of pain through her lower back. If she were smart, she’d scoot home and call it a night. But she didn’t want to miss the ceremony. If she didn’t show up, Brad would think it was too painful for her and probably go on a month-long guilt trip over what his mama had done.

After passing out the last of their cookies and brewing up another batch of hot chocolate, Jeanne peered up at the moon. She wondered if her parents were looking down on the festivities tonight. And what would they have thought of her having a baby? They would have been fantastic grandparents. Her father would have shown his grandchild—boy or girl—how to hunt and fish. Mama would have her little one making homemade bread by the time the child was two.

Jeanne had so many fond memories of her own grandparents—picking peaches and making preserves, then gobbling them up straight out of the jar before they even had a chance to be used for tarts or sandwiches. Eating apples straight off the tree and listening to Grandpa’s fiddle music after dinner. She and her sisters would swing each ’round and ’round until they got dizzy and tumbled to the ground.

But her baby wouldn’t have any grandparents.

Jeanne let out a long sigh. No grandparents. A father who didn’t want to be involved. It’d be selfish to keep this child for herself. She probably wouldn’t even have a job in a few weeks. She’d have to get information on adoption agencies first thing after the New Year.

Tonya and Kate popped into the tent.

“You sure you want to be here for the traffic light unveiling?” Tonya asked. “I can take you home. It’s late and you look beat. The dang thing will be hanging there tomorrow, you can check it out then.”

“Nah, it’s just half an hour from now. I’ve got my feet up. I’m taking a break. I’ll meet you guys out there.”

Ten minutes before midnight, she figured she’d better make her way outside. She’d never seen so much of Willowdale’s population in one place. A few people reached for her hand as she made her way through the crowd. Rita from the Jelly Jar hugged her best she could with Jeanne’s great big baby belly between them. Her throat felt thick as people patted her back and gave her supportive smiles.

She was grateful to spot Kate and Tonya waving her their way. Her sister Gracie wasn’t able to make the trip to town for the ceremony, and Becca didn’t want to come. Didn’t even want to discuss it. Becca barely remembered their parents.

Jeanne looked for Brad but couldn’t find him, which was just as well. She shuffled over to the girls and rubbed her belly, which tightened with every step.

Jeanne thought back to last New Year’s Eve, how Brad had slid his hand across her belly—her totally flat belly.
What a difference a year makes,
she thought. She forced a big smile for the girls.

“You’re holding up well.” Kate squeezed Jeanne’s shoulder.

Jeanne took a shuddering breath and nodded. How she wished she was leaning up against Brad. He was the only one here who could know how she was feeling.

The officials were gathered at the intersection where the new light hung from a wire stretched across the street attached to two poles. A white cloth covered it, and it swayed in the breeze like a ghost.

The minutes were ticking down, and Jeanne’s heart picked up its pace. She tried her best to keep her memories tamped down because she couldn’t—wouldn’t—let herself break down tonight.

Willowdale’s mayor approached the podium set up in the middle of Main Street. He tapped the microphone and cleared his throat.

“Thank you all for joining us tonight as we ring in a new year and a new era for Willowdale. With the unveiling of our first ever stoplight, we can ensure safer streets for our residents. We ask you to pause for a moment to remember the lives lost here so many years ago. We ask you to remember Debra and Peter Clark and Virginia Larsen.”