Star-Crossed Parents

He pulled the carton of maple pecan from the freezer and put some into two bowls. As he did this, Leigh rinsed their plates and stacked them into the dishwasher. Rather than returning to the table for their dessert, they both settled on stools at the counter.

He took his first taste of the ice cream. “Eating this stuff always makes me feel like a kid.”

She didn’t smile back. “Taylor is not going to make the same mistakes that I did. I won’t let her.”

Oh, boy.

“Let me tell you a little about my daughter. Taylor graduated from high school this year with a three-point-nine grade average. She’s going to work at a coffee shop for the summer, saving her money to go to Cornell in the fall. She’s already been accepted.”

“Good for her.”

Leigh nodded. “The next four years are going to be the best years of her life. I want her to experience everything—living on campus, the social life—as well as her studies.”

In other words, everything her mother hadn’t been able to experience when she’d been that age. “And when the four years are over?”

“An undergraduate degree is just a base these days. Taylor will probably go on to medical school. Or maybe do her masters in psychology.”

Did she have an idea how pompous she sounded? Sam couldn’t remember meeting anyone who alternately intrigued and annoyed him as much as this woman did.

“What about your son? What are your plans for him?”

She revealed a lot about herself with her questions. “Josh has his own plans. He started his business while he was still in high school. You saw the van out front.”

“But what about his long-term plans?”

He shrugged.

“A business degree would probably help him if he’s serious about running a small company.”

“Really? I hadn’t thought about that.”

Leigh opened her mouth, then closed it when she realized he was being sarcastic. The truth was, Sam had wanted Josh to go further with his education. His son knew that the financial resources were available if he ever chose that route. But so far he hadn’t.

Leigh pursed her mouth. She did that a lot. It was too bad that a woman with such sweet, kissable lips had such a disagreeable habit.

“I don’t care how successful his business is. A college degree would help. It would also provide a safety net for the future. In case his business ever does go sideways.”

Sam set down his spoon, even though his bowl was still full. He was no longer in the mood for ice cream. “Look. You may have your ideas about what my son should do with his life. It may surprise you to find out that I have a few of my own, too. But the bottom line is this—it’s Josh’s life. He’s the one who decides if he wants to go to college or not.”

“Well, of course he does. But a parent should have some influence in the matter. Though I suppose if he’s making all sorts of money at his business, college would be a hard sell.”

Sam wasn’t going to admit to Leigh that Josh was barely scraping by, that more than once he’d needed to bail out his son so he could cover his payables.

“Sometimes you have to let your kids make a mistake or two.”

“There are mistakes, and then there are mistakes. ” She stood and slung her purse back on her shoulder. “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that point. Thank you very much for dinner, but I’d better get going now.”

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow…?” He followed her down the hallway, then stepped past her to open the front door.

“Yes. I’ll be by first thing in the morning to pick up Taylor.”

“What if your daughter doesn’t want to go home with you?”

Leigh’s lips pursed again. “If she insists on staying the whole weekend, I suppose I will, too.”

She left then, and he watched her drive away before heading back to the kitchen. Miss Prim and Proper’s ice-cream bowl was as spotless as if a kitten had licked it clean.

A YARD LIGHT BURNED bright at the Washington Inn when Leigh drove up ten minutes after leaving Sam’s. She parked at the end of a line of six vehicles, grabbed the duffel she’d packed so quickly, then made her way over the stone pathway.

No one was at the front desk when she walked in, but within seconds a woman appeared.

“Hi, I’m Kate Wallace. Welcome to the Washington Inn.” Sam’s sister had even, pearl-like teeth. She looked around Leigh’s age, maybe a few years younger, and was dressed in yoga pants and a matching top. She eyed Leigh’s dress and heels with a hint of curiosity, but she didn’t offer a comment on the out-of-place outfit.

“Thanks. I’m Leigh Hartwell.”

“Yes. So my brother said.”

Leigh wondered if Sam had explained the whole scenario to her. Or told her what a terrible, controlling parent he thought she was. Probably not, because Kate’s smile seemed genuinely friendly.

Kate snagged a key from a drawer, then handed her a pamphlet, as well. “I’ve put you in the turret room. Sorry it’s so small, but it was the last room left.”

“I’m sure it will be fine.” She was desperate to get out of this outfit. Out of these shoes.

On the way, Kate showed her the breakfast room. “Coffee, tea and cookies are available from five o’clock on. Breakfast is served at seven-thirty or eight-thirty. Which would you prefer?”

“Seven-thirty.”

Kate smiled. “An early bird.”

“No. A runner. I figure if I eat early I’ll be able to go for a run around nine. Your brother said you have some nice trails in the area.”

“If you aren’t afraid of hills, we do. I’m not a runner myself, but many of our guests are. Stop at the desk in the morning and I’ll give you a map.”

Leigh thanked her, then followed the other woman up a set of creaky, wooden stairs. If she ran for an hour tomorrow, that would make up for skipping her run today and the bowl of ice cream. By the time she showered and drove back to the Wallace place, it would be around noon, which was perfect since Taylor wasn’t a morning person at the best of times.

Which these were not.

On the second story, Kate paused. “To the right is our New England suite. An elderly couple from Canada are staying there. And over here is the washroom you’ll be using.” She opened the door on the left to reveal a tiny bathroom with a shower stall, sink and commode. “Sorry it’s so small, but at least you don’t have to share.” She passed Leigh the key.

“And my room?”

Kate pointed up and smiled gamely. “You won’t need to warm up for your run tomorrow with all these stairs.”

The turret room was even tinier than Leigh had expected. And since it really was in a turret, none of the walls were straight. A double bed had been squished into one half of the space. A rocking chair and small footstool sat next to the bank of windows facing the back of the property.

“It’s pretty.” Leigh fingered a needlepoint cushion on the chair. “How long have you owned this place?”

“I moved here after I was married. The inn has been in my husband’s family for decades.”

“It must be a lot of work. Do you and your husband run it on your own?”

“My husband passed away six years ago. So it’s just me and my son, Robin, now.”

“I’m so sorry.” Before she could ask what had happened to her husband, Kate was telling her.

“Andrew died in a car accident. He and my sister-in-law were killed instantly.”

Oh, no. “Was that Sam’s wife?”

“Sam told you about Susan?”

“Only that she’d passed away about six years ago.”

“Yes. Andrew was taking Susan shopping in North Conway. She hated to drive in the snow and we’d just had one of those terrible spring storms.”

Leigh shook her head in mute sympathy.

“But enough about that.” Kate forced a cheerful smile. “I hope you’ll be comfortable here. If you start to suffer from cabin fever, feel free to come downstairs for a coffee or to watch television.”

“Not tonight, thanks. You don’t know how good that bed is looking to me right now.”

Kate’s smile relaxed. “The bed may be small, but it’s really comfortable. I hope you sleep well.” She paused in the doorway. “My brother didn’t say how many nights you’ll be staying?”

“It depends on how long it takes me to talk my daughter into coming home with me. With any luck we’ll be gone tomorrow afternoon.”

“Sam mentioned something about your daughter. She’s a friend of Josh’s?”

“Sort of. They met over the Internet.” Leigh made a face and Kate looked sympathetic.

“They made a plan to meet the day Taylor finished her last exam. I just found out this afternoon, when I got home from work.” She looked down at her dress. “We were going to have a graduation party.”

“What a shock that must have been for you.”

Leigh blinked away fresh tears. She’d cried most of the way here from New York. As if tears were going to solve anything.

“If it makes you feel any better, my nephew is a sweet guy. He’s always been a good kid, never got into any trouble.”

“I could say the same for Taylor. Until this.”

“Love does strange things to us all.”

Sam had said something similar, just a few hours ago. And Leigh had only her own life to look back on to know that it was true. But damn it, she’d hoped Taylor would have known better.

“It’ll be okay, Leigh. Get some sleep. And call me if you need anything.”

The moment Kate left, Leigh collapsed on the bed and kicked off her shoes. She couldn’t think about Taylor right now. It hurt too much. Kate was right. She needed sleep. Things always looked better in the morning, right?

Sam’s sister was so nice. Why couldn’t Sam be that nice, too?

T HE SITUATION DID NOT seem better to Leigh the next morning. It didn’t seem better after breakfast, either, and the hour-long run that usually left her feeling clearheaded and optimistic only made her more tense.

She knew she wouldn’t feel better until she’d talked to Taylor. Hopefully the implications of her rash actions would have sunk in by now. Wouldn’t it be great if she’d already decided she wanted to go home?

Leigh hurried through her shower, then threw on jeans and a T-shirt. In the car she was dismayed to realize the gas tank was almost empty. When she’d stopped yesterday for directions, she’d forgotten to buy any gas.

It was quarter to twelve when she pulled up to Sam’s Gas & Groceries. Before she could do much more than unclasp her seat belt, he was by her car.

Why, when practically ninety-nine percent of the gas stations in America were self-serve, did his have to be full-service?

She lowered the window.

“Looking for directions to New York City?”

“Very funny.” He was wearing an outfit similar to yesterday’s. Dark jeans and a navy T-shirt with the gas station logo embroidered on the front pocket. Inexplicably there was a baseball taking the place of the O in the word Groceries.

Sam rubbed his chin. “You sleep okay?”

“Just fine.”

She felt a subtext in his gaze, a message that came across as clearly as if he’d actually said, I hope you’re feeling more reasonable today.

“My sister called last night. Said you’d found the place all right.”

Had he been worried she wouldn’t? That had been considerate of him.

“She said she’d already shown you to your room and that you seemed like a lovely woman.”

Leigh was pleased. “I liked your sister, too.”

Kate had handled breakfast for ten guests all on her own, without losing her poise and good humor. Clearly, despite the loss of her husband, she was managing just fine. Leigh admired that.

“Kate’s one of the best.” Sam raised his eyebrows. “So did you just stop to chat or can I do something for you?”

“Oh, chat, of course, but since I’m here you might as well fill the tank.”

“With?”

He was really in a strange mood today. “Gas.”

His mouth twitched. “Regular or premium?”

As if she had a clue. She scowled at him. “It’s a rental. How should I know?”

“Never mind. I’ll give you regular.”

Then why had he asked her in the first place? Just to make her feel foolish, no doubt. She watched his reflection in the side mirror as he unscrewed the gas cap, then inserted the nozzle and started the gas pumping. Once everything was set up properly, he grabbed a squeegee and started cleaning her windshield. He was so tall he cleared the bug smears off with three long strokes, leaving a trail of cloudy water with the last one.

“Want me to check the oil?”

Man, cars were a lot of work. “Do we have to?”

“You just picked it up from the rental place yesterday?”

She nodded.

“It’s probably okay, then.”

He read the total off the gas pump and she handed him her credit card. He returned a minute later. She noted his big, strong hands as he passed her the plastic tray with her card and credit slip. She scratched out her signature, then returned the tray.

“Did you talk to the kids this morning?” she couldn’t resist asking.

“They weren’t up when I left for work.”

She did her best to shut down the mental image he’d just given her. Her daughter in bed with his son, the two of them cuddled up together like…lovers.

She closed her eyes and tried to replace that picture with another—the path she’d jogged along that morning. Rocks and tree roots had made the footing treacherous, but the canopy of birch, oak, maple and pine had more than compensated for that difficulty.

Feeling slightly more calm, she said, “Well, they should be up by now.”

“You headed that way?”

“Of course.” Where else would she be going?

“Okay. I guess I’ll see you there.”

“You will?”

“It’s noon.”

“You go home for lunch?” Why couldn’t he just bring a sandwich to work like most of the American workforce?

She didn’t want him present when she was talking to Taylor. Didn’t want him watching. Interfering.

“I’m not the enemy, Leigh. I’m after the same thing you are. All I want is for my kid to be happy.”

Happy, sure. But what about responsible? Considerate? Mature? Leigh didn’t say anything, not wanting to start another disagreement.

Leigh took a deep breath, then restarted her car. The pain in her neck had subsided overnight, but she had a feeling she was about to get another.

CHAPTER FIVE

M USIC BLARED from the open windows of Josh Wallace’s cottage. For once the sound of the hip-hop rhythm she usually found so annoying was welcome to Leigh, simply because Taylor liked it, so it was familiar. And precious little had felt familiar to her since she’d started on this unplanned and unwanted voyage of hers.

The path to the cottage was much easier for her to negotiate today in loafers. She hoped that was an omen things were going to go more smoothly with Taylor, too.

Though something told her they wouldn’t.

She climbed up the porch stairs and knocked loudly so the kids would hear above the music. It took a few minutes for someone to come to the door. Unfortunately, it wasn’t Taylor.

Rather than invite her inside, Josh stepped out onto the landing, closed the door and positioned himself like a guard dog between her and the handle.

He had on jeans, and a tight T-shirt that emphasized his long, lean torso and the breadth of his shoulders. His expression held such a contradictory combination of vulnerability and strength, that for a second Leigh felt a long-forgotten yearning.

The innocence of first love. It really was a wonderful thing in a young person’s life.

But then she remembered what love could do to a young woman. She remembered, and she raised her chin high. “I’m here to speak to Taylor.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Hartwell.” Josh’s tone was respectful, but firm. “She doesn’t want to talk to you right now.”

“Don’t tell me I can’t see my own daughter.” Why was he doing this? Was Taylor okay? She tried to step past Josh, and when she couldn’t, she called out over his shoulder. “Taylor? Are you in there? Are you all right?”

Josh frowned, his composure cracking. “Taylor’s fine.”

“Why am I not surprised to hear you say that? I’d like to see for myself. Or would you prefer I called the police?”

He shook his head. Gestured her toward the door. “Sorry, Taylor. I tried to tell her—”

“Taylor?” Leigh stepped into a room that smelled like freshly made toast. Her daughter sat at the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee in her hands. She was wearing a T-shirt on top. Leigh couldn’t see what she wore for bottoms.

At least she was safe.

But Leigh wasn’t encouraged by the mutinous gleam in her eyes.

“Honey, we need to talk. Could you come outside, please?” Leigh couldn’t be here in this house where…everything…had happened. No matter how she tried not to notice details—like her daughter’s blouse from yesterday flung on the back of the sofa—she noticed.

Boy, did she notice.

“There’s no point in talking, Mom. Josh and I are in love.”

Abruptly the music stopped. Josh must have turned the player off. He walked past, headed for the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup. Neither he nor her daughter offered Leigh any.

“Love. Taylor, how can you say that? You barely know one another.”

“I knew you wouldn’t understand. Josh and I have been e-mailing for a long time. I do know him and he knows me, too, better than anyone, even better than Kerry does. Or you.”

Her daughter’s words stung, the way they’d been meant to. Leigh’s friends always marveled at how close her relationship with her daughter was. Even during the churning adolescent years, they’d been able to talk, to enjoy time together.

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