Always You Page 6

  Matt descended the front porch steps and walked toward the boys as Anna got out of the car. She stood a foot away from her open door and watched the boys with a frown.

  A wave of defensiveness washed through Matt. He hadn’t let their past bleed into his feelings for her son; could she do the same with his nephew? But then he noticed that sadness filled her eyes, not disdain. Did she have regrets? Or was she sad that her son was friends with someone tied to Matt?

  She glanced up at him and every nerve in his body became tightly strung. Her blond hair was loose and hung in soft waves that rested just above her shoulders and framed her face. She was dressed in jeans and a gray scoop-neck, long-sleeved T-shirt that showed off her curves, and damn did she have curves. He forced his gaze up to her face before she realized he’d been checking her out.

  Toby and Ethan broke up their hug fest and Ethan asked, “Did you bring your soccer ball and shin guards?”

  Toby’s smile fell.

  Anna looked worried. “I can go home and get them.”

  “No need,” Matt said as he moved closer and put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “I doubt we’ll need shin guards, and I’ve got plenty of balls.” Remembering Tuesday night’s practice fiasco, he added. “Soccer balls.”

  A smile ghosted her lips. “Thanks for clarifying.” Then just as quickly, her smile disappeared. “Thanks again for letting Toby come over. He’s been so excited he could hardly sleep last night.”

  “Ethan, too.”

  He could see the questions in her eyes. Why did he spend so much time with his nephew? Why wasn’t he married with kids of his own? He wasn’t about to go there. Not now. Not ever.

  “Do you want to come in and look everything over?” he asked. “Did you do a background check?” He was partly joking, but the mother of one of Ethan’s pals had gone overboard with her paranoia when she brought her son over for his first playdate. “I really don’t mind.”

  Her face softened. “I trust you, Matt.”

  Somehow that was even worse.

  She sucked in a breath, making her chest rise, and he resisted the urge to watch more closely, forcing his eyes to remain on her clear blue ones. Watching her now, all he could think about was the life he’d imagined for them, and how she’d just thrown it away.

  “Do you still want me to pick him up at four?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  She hesitated then crossed her arms over her chest. “You have my number so feel free to call me if you need me to come early or something comes up or…” She paused and Matt could sense she was anxious. “This is the first time I’ve left him since we came back.”

  Matt was pissed all over again about what she’d done to them in the past, but this was the present and she was a worried mother. He wanted to put her concerns at ease. “If Toby asks for you before four, I’ll give you a call. I’d hate for him to not want to come back. Ethan’s already planning their next playdate.”

  Relief washed over her face. “Thank you. I was worried you would…I can understand how this would be difficult.”

  Anger burned in his gut. He glanced over to make sure the boys, who had moved closer to the door, were out of earshot. “The past is in the past, Anna. I sure as hell would never hurt or traumatize your son to get back at you.”

  She looked stricken, and he regretted being so harsh.

  He ran a hand over his head, suddenly wondering if this was a bad idea after all. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “I do. And so much more. I trust you, Matt. Toby wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” Turning on her heels, she got into her car and shut the door.

  Matt realized she hadn’t told Toby good-bye, and when she started to back out of the driveway, Toby’s eyes widened. He glanced up at Matt.

  “Do you want to tell your mom good-bye?”

  Toby watched her pull out into the street then she stopped and rolled down the window, giving Toby a warm smile. “You have the bestest afternoon, okay?”

  He nodded. “Yes, Mummy.”

  “I love you,” she said as her smile lit up her entire face.

  Toby’s shoulders relaxed, but Matt’s gut tightened. She used to smile at him just like that years ago.

  * * *

  An hour later Matt was in his backyard, watching Ethan and Toby run around the orange cones while kicking their miniature soccer balls. Poor Toby lacked some coordination, but he’d been concentrating hard as he tried to control the ball.

  “You’re getting better, Toby,” Matt said. “Are you sure you haven’t played before?”

  Toby got to the end of the line of cones then glanced over at him. “This is only my second time, Coach Matt.”

  “Wow. With improvement this quick, next thing you know, you’ll be trying out for the Arsenals.”

  Toby scrunched up his nose. “Who?”

  Matt shook his head. “Never mind. Who’s ready for a snack?”

  “Me! Me!” both boys shouted.

  “Then leave your balls there and let’s head inside. Ethan, show Toby where he can wash his hands.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ethan said then ran inside with Toby on his heels.

  Matt followed them through the door to the kitchen, then paused as he grabbed an apple from the counter. He hadn’t asked Anna if her son was allergic to anything. He considered calling her, but decided to ask Toby first.

  The boys came barreling down the hall in their excitement, and Matt couldn’t hide his smile. He hadn’t seen Ethan this excited in months, and it warmed his chest to see him so happy.

  “Toby, are you allergic to anything?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “I was going to cut up some apples and give you peanut butter to dip them in. You’re sure you’re not allergic to peanut butter?”

  “Of course he’s not, sillyhead,” Ethan said with a laugh. “He’d have to sit at the peanut-free table if he was.”

  “There’s a peanut-free table at school?”

  “Yeah,” Ethan said like he was a fool for not knowing. “Duh.”

  Matt’s eyebrows rose. “Saying ‘duh’ isn’t polite. We’ve discussed that before.”

  Ethan’s chin dropped to his chest. “Sorry, Uncle Matt.”

  “It’s okay. Now let me cut up those apples.”

  “How come we can’t have chips like Wesley’s mom gave us at his house?”

  “Because chips aren’t healthy. They don’t make you grow.”

  “That’s not what Ms. Peterman said to Ms. Murphy at recess,” Toby said, taking a drink from the cup of water Matt handed him. “She says too many chips will make you fat. Only she was talking about the other kind.”

  “What other kind?” Ethan asked. “Tortilla chips?”

  Toby shook his head. “No, not the kind that come from bags. The other kind.”

  Ethan looked confused. “You mean the ones in the cans?”

  Toby looked frustrated, but Matt put a plate in front of him and said, “Ethan, I think the problem is that ‘chips’ mean something else in England. I suspect Toby’s talking about what we call French fries. Is that right?”

  Toby nodded with relief.

  “That’s just dumb,” Ethan said. “Why would they call it the wrong thing?”

  “Who says it’s wrong?” Matt asked. “I’m sure they think we’re wrong. And we don’t tell our friends that something’s dumb.”

  Ethan scowled but pressed on. “If they call French fries chips, what do they call real chips?”

  “Crisps.”

  Ethan laughed and looked at Toby. “You say things weird there.”

  Matt was about to intervene but Toby laughed. “You say things weird here.”

  They spent the next five minutes discussing different words in England versus the United States while Matt cut up apple slices and scooped peanut butter onto their plates. His mother would have tossed the boys a bag of chips and cans of soda, turned on the TV, and been done with it. But that�
��s not how he would have raised his kids, so that wasn’t how he was going to raise Ethan.

  He paused, his spoon still on Ethan’s plate. He wasn’t Ethan’s father, yet he’d been deciding a lot of rules for raising Ethan and it made him uncomfortable. Those decisions were supposed to be made by Abby, but she wasn’t around and someone had to make them.

  “Uncle Matt makes the best spaghetti,” Ethan said as he scooped his apple slice into his peanut butter. “Maybe you can eat over sometime.”

  “Yeah,” Toby said, looking down at his plate.

  Was he missing his mother? While Ethan was full of bravado now, when Abby had left last summer and then again after Christmas, Ethan went through some separation anxiety. Talking about Abby and reminding him she still loved him had seemed to help. “What’s your favorite dinner?” Matt asked. “What’s your favorite thing that your mother makes you?”

  “Nanny Maureen makes my favorite dinner,” Toby said. “Bangers and mash. But when Mummy cooks, she makes me fish fingers.”

  Anna had a nanny?

  “Fish fingers?” Ethan giggled. “Fish don’t have fingers.”

  Toby stuck out his bottom lip. “Some fish do.”

  “No they don’t,” Ethan said. “They have fins, not fingers.”

  “Ethan,” Matt said in a stern voice.

  Ethan stopped and realized Toby was unhappy then looked up at Matt in confusion. “But it’s true.”

  “We just had an entire discussion about people in England having different names for things. Maybe that’s the case here.”

  “Oh.”

  “In fact,” Matt continued, “I bet fish fingers are the same things as fish sticks.”

  “That’s what my grandad calls them,” Toby said. “He says the house stinks to high heaven when Mummy cooks them.”

  Matt waited for Ethan to comment on the fact Toby called his mother Mummy, but thankfully he let it pass.

  “So your favorite food is fish fingers—”

  “And chips,” Toby added before he took a bite of his apple. “Fish fingers and chips. The hot kind, not the crispy ones. Mummy lets me line them up on the baking sheet. Nanny Maureen won’t make them. She says they are processed food.”

  “Is your nanny like the ones in the movies? Is she mean?” Ethan asked. “Does she live in the attic of your house?”

  “I don’t have a house,” Toby said. “We live on floor twenty-one. I can see the river from my bedroom because we’re so high.”

  “You live in an apartment?” Ethan asked. “Like on those shows on TV?”

  “Mummy calls it a condo. And Nanny Maureen comes in the morning to take me to school, then she brings me home and makes me a snack and helps me with my homework. She’s nice.”

  “What about your dad?” Ethan asked. “Do you get two birthday parties and two Christmases? Wesley said it’s the best part of a divorce, but my daddy hasn’t started yet.”

  Matt’s heart skipped a beat. He had no idea his nephew had been waiting for his father to start fulfilling his parenting job. Knowing Abby’s ex, Ethan would be waiting a long time. One more heartbreak for the boy to deal with.

  Toby shrugged. “No. I don’t see my dad. You’re lucky you have Uncle Matt. I only have my grumpy grandad.”

  Anna was a single mom in the truest sense. Did the deadbeat pay child support? Part of him said he should feel vindicated Anna’s relationship had failed, but he couldn’t find it in himself to feel any happiness. Not when a child was caught in the middle.

  Toby started telling Ethan about his school—that he’d been going there since he was three and he wore uniforms. Ethan listened like Toby was telling him some crazy tale, but Matt wondered more about Toby’s father. The man Anna had chosen to have a child with.

  “Do you see your other grandparents?” Matt asked before he could stop himself.

  Toby’s gaze moved to Matt’s. The color of his blue eyes—a bright cornflower—were just like his mother’s. Even the set of his mouth when he concentrated on something reminded him of Anna. He was very much his mother’s son. “No.”

  No father or grandparents part of Toby’s life…was Anna home for good? And why did his heart trip at the thought? Matt began to wonder about things he had no business wondering.

  Chapter Seven

  Anna decided to take advantage of her three hours of alone time. She’d told her father she was running errands—which was basically true—but the errand just happened to be checking out his potential new home.

  “As you can see, the colors are soothing and go well with most color schemes,” the woman said as she showed Anna an apartment at the Sunny Days Assisted Living Center. The name alone would send her father running, and the bland taupe walls and vinyl floor were an added incentive.

  “There’s no carpet,” Anna said.

  “It’s hard to push a wheelchair on carpet.”

  “But my father’s not in a wheelchair.”

  “Not yet.”

  Anna’s chest tightened and she felt dangerously close to tears.

  What the hell was she doing?

  She moved to the window and stared out into the parking lot and the hospital across the street. Just a reminder to her father that he was a short ambulance drive away from the place his wife had died.

  The woman moved next to her. “Many residents appreciate the proximity of the medical center.”

  Anna’s mouth lifted in a wry grin as she stared out the window. “My father’s not like most people.” She turned toward the woman. “Is there another room with a different view?”

  “The rooms in the back overlook the highway.”

  Well, that was no better. She wandered into the small bedroom.

  “This room is furnished, but if you wish to move some furniture in with him, we’ll need to see photos as soon as possible to make sure they meet with our approval.”

  Anna spun around to face her. “You have to approve his furniture?”

  “Some furniture is unsafe.”

  Anna laughed at that. “Unsafe furniture? Is this place like a Stephen King novel?”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.” Shaking her head, Anna moved into the universally designed bathroom while the woman gave her an explanation of why they denied some pieces of furniture, but Anna tuned her out. It was all very clean, but sterile. Very clinical. It was like a holding pen to send her father while he waited to die.

  He would hate it here. She could barely stomach the idea of putting him here herself.

  What if he couldn’t bring his favorite recliner?

  Suddenly a memory of Matt popped into her head. Only a few months into their relationship, they’d gone to the lake with some friends and Matt had sat in a camping chair that collapsed underneath him. She’d teased him that he’d drunk too many beers, but he’d grabbed her wrist and pulled her down with him and said he was dangerous to furniture. She remembered staring into his eyes and thinking it was funny he’d declared himself dangerous since he’d always made her feel so safe.

  The memory only added to her melancholy.

  Being so close to Matt was dangerous to her psyche.

  Matt isn’t part of your life. It didn’t matter if she’d spent the past four sleepless nights remembering every moment of their year together. She knew she’d thrown away something precious, yet she wasn’t so sure she’d made the wrong decision. She hadn’t been ready and she would have resented him for ending up just like her mother…a slave to her husband’s wishes and demands for their lives. Anna argued with herself that Matt wasn’t even close to being like her father, but if she’d given up her dreams and followed Matt along as a passenger to the plans he had for his life, she was just one step away from being the woman her mother had become. Domineered. Controlled. Unhappy.

  No thank you. She’d rather spend her life alone.

  “Are you ready to look at the paperwork?” the woman asked.

  “I guess…I mean, yes, thank you.” She agreed with Dr. Mart
in that her father shouldn’t live alone, which meant she didn’t have many options. Though this place was seeming less and less like an option at all, she should still get all the information in hand.

  A half hour later, Anna stood next to her car, staring up at the residential care center feeling more depressed than ever. What was she going to do?

  It would be easier if she could move back home, but that would never work for multiple reasons. First, her job was in London. Sure, she was working here now, but her boss’s impatience made it obvious this arrangement wouldn’t last much longer. Two, other than her father, there was nothing for her here. Before his accident, she barely spoke to him a few times a year. She’d been home for over a month and had yet to see her best friend, Ashley. Matt’s face appeared in her head, but he was more of a reason to leave than stay, no matter how tempted she was by him. But third, and most important, a British asshole was the deciding factor.

  Phillip.

  She’d wanted to leave England with Toby after their divorce, but he’d fought her. Phillip made sure the decree stated that Anna couldn’t move their son out of the country without his written permission. To Phillip, Toby was a possession. He didn’t necessarily want his son, yet he wasn’t willing to let him go either. The fact that Phillip hadn’t seen Toby in three years and hadn’t paid child support didn’t matter. He’d fight her tooth and nail just because he could.

  But the simple fact was that their life was in London. Her job. Their home. Toby’s schools and friends. No. She was good and stuck in London. At least for ten more years. But that didn’t help her father now.

  Her phone rang and she was surprised to see Ashley’s name flash on her screen.

  “Ashley,” she said with a forced cheeriness. “I was just thinking about you.”

  “Was it racy?”

  Anna laughed, which felt good after so much angst. “No.”

  “That’s a pity.”

  “I thought you were out of town for another week.”

  “The damned red-shafted flickers decided to cooperate so I wrapped up early and rushed back home to see you before you jet off to Merry Old England.” She added the last part with a badly executed English accent. “Gotta make hay while the sun shines.”