Once Burned Read online

  “Sounds like it was a great vacation for you. You certainly look a lot happier, and you definitely look more rested.”

  “I am. Hopefully it’ll last for a while.”

  She expected to feel the relief of returning home when she walked through the door, but it didn’t come. There was no gladness to be back in her own space and no welcome to be found in the sight of her scattered knickknacks and cherished photographs, only the sensation of sinking beneath the crushing weight of her responsibilities as a single parent, and those greeted her far too eagerly. For nine wonderful days, she’d been free to enjoy life, but that was over now, and the reality of her life threatened to overwhelm her.

  I’ve been doing this for eight years. I’ll go right on making it work for the next ten, and then….

  What about a car for Noah? Auto insurance? And, God, what about college? The thought that she had no way to prevent her son from being sucked into the bleak cycle of poverty terrified her. She was failing him with precious little hope for better.

  Stop thinking like this. Right… now.

  Lindsay straightened, squared her shoulders, and hauled her suitcases back to her bedroom, then returned to the kitchen to quickly glance through her mail. The pile was relatively small, and as she’d suspected, there was no check from Max. Sighing, she left the mail on the kitchen counter where Chelsea had piled it for her in her absence and wandered into the living room to collapse into their worn, hand-me-down couch. It was after eleven now, which meant it was after midnight in Montana, so she should probably wait to call Henry, but even thinking of doing so made her heart fall in disappointment. She’d spent most of her flight and the ride home thinking of him and of their many adventures, and those thoughts had kept the burden of her usual concerns and doubts from descending on her, and she couldn’t bear the thought of waiting until the morning to hear his voice again.

  Mercifully, the cordless was on the coffee table, so she didn’t even have to get up to retrieve it. She dialed his number from memory—funny how little effort it had taken her to memorize it—and waited as the phone rang. It kept ringing, and she almost ended the call, figuring he’d already gone to bed and reluctant to wake him if she hadn’t already, but on the ninth ring, he picked up.

  “Hi, gorgeous,” he answered groggily.

  “Either you have caller ID or I need to be very envious right now,” she quipped.

  “I have caller ID. How was your flight?”

  “Long and bumpy.”

  “And the ride home?”

  “Longer and bumpier. How was dinner with your family?”

  “It was nice. Everyone sends their love. They miss you, and so do I.”

  There was no stopping the smile that spread across her face, so she didn’t try. Across the living room from the tattered Lay-Z-Boy, Chelsea regarded her with unveiled curiosity, and Lindsay lowered her gaze. “I miss you, too, and I miss them. Anyhow, I wanted to call to let you know I got home safe and sound, and I’ve done that, so now I’m going to let you get back to sleep.”

  “I wasn’t asleep.”

  “Uh-huh. Sure you weren’t.”

  “Okay, maybe I dozed off while I was reading.”

  “Must not be that exciting a book.”

  “It’s a great book, but I’ve read it at least a dozen times before. Larry McMurtry’s Lonesome Dove.”

  “One of my favorites. But I’m not going to keep you awake talking about literature.” She hesitated, debating if what she wanted to ask was wise. “Talk to you soon?”

  “Like when?”

  “Is tomorrow evening too soon?”

  “Not soon enough.”

  Grinning, Lindsay said, “No, probably not, but you have to work tomorrow, and I’m probably going to end up spending most of the day shopping for Noah’s school supplies and football gear and….” She sighed. “I’m going to shut up about it or I won’t get any sleep because I’ll be too busy worrying about how to afford it all.”

  “Sounds like you were right that Max wouldn’t send the money.”

  The sleepy, teasing tone vanished from his voice, and the note of anger mixed with concern for her eased the ache of tension growing in her neck and head.

  “Unfortunately so. That’s something else I’ll have to take care of tomorrow, so by tomorrow evening, I’ll really want to talk to you because my sanity will need a boost.”

  “Do you want to call me, or shall I call you? I should be done with work and home to cook myself dinner by six or so my time, five yours.”

  “Why don’t I call you, then, since I don’t know when I’ll be done.”

  “All right. Talk to you then. Good night, Lindsay, and try not to worry too much, all right? Worrying doesn’t do any good, anyhow.”

  “I know that, and I promise, I’ll try. Good night, Henry.”

  Reluctantly, she ended the call and let her head fall back against the couch. She wanted to hug someone—either Noah or Henry, she didn’t care—but she hat to settle for wrapping her arms around herself.

  “Henry?” Chelsea asked as soon as Lindsay had returned the phone to the coffee table.

  “I met him in Northstar—he’s on of the brothers of Vince’s sister’s husband.”

  “He’s the reason you’re looking so…. I’ll say content, but satisfied seems like it might be a more fitting term.”

  “It was a fling,” Lindsay replied evasively. “And from the start, it wasn’t meant to last.”

  She liked Chelsea well enough, but they’d never developed a deep enough friendship that would prod her into divulging the details of her relationship with Henry to the woman; that kind of talk was reserved for her two best friends only, and probably her parents because she’d already told them about Henry, anyhow, and they’d supported her through everything else.

  “Well, whatever it was, it did the trick,” Chelsea remarked. “Good for you.”

  Lindsay pushed to her feet and, with Henry’s voice still fresh in her mind, bid her roommate goodnight and headed to bed. She was wiped out by her journey and anxious to get up in the morning to see her son and parents, and the sooner she got to sleep, the sooner she’d be able to do that, but loneliness settled over her, and her weary brain decided now was the perfect time to replay her vacation. She tried to convince herself that what she’d shared with Henry was exactly what she’d told Chelsea it was—a fling that never had a chance—because she didn’t think holding on to the hope that it would be more was healthy. And yet… hadn’t he said, just before she’d boarded the plane, that there might be more for them in the future?

  Give me some time, and we’ll see what happens.

  That didn’t sound like something a man intent on closing the door would say, did it?

  She knew he needed some time and space to deal with his issues, and she respected that. She respected, too, that he didn’t want to drag her through it while he worked through it, and that he cared enough about her to want to spare her whatever pain he thought it might cause her only endeared him to her that much more. Old habits instilled in her by the other men she’d dated made her question his intent, but what reason would he have to be anything but genuine? Sex had been on the table from the beginning, and he had been the one to put the brakes on when she would have been happy to fall into bed with him that first night… or the night of Vince and Evie’s wedding, but he’d wanted to make sure he had enough time to set aside his anger so he wouldn’t take it out on her. No other man she’d been with had ever put her first like that.

  I trust him.

  The admission washed through her with sweet intensity, and she tried but failed to remember the last new person she’d trusted as much. She didn’t even trust Chelsea enough to tell her the extent of her relationship with Henry, and her roommate had no real power to hurt her.

  Drawing her knees in close to her body, she tucked an arm around them and tried not to wish he were here with her. As she’d told him, he’d more than adequately fulfilled his end of their
bargain—too well because now she wanted more. The familiar voices of despair began to whisper, and stubbornly, she shut them out and did something she rarely allowed herself to do.

  She hoped.

  Chapter Eight

  IT WAS PROBABLY a dirty tactic, but Lindsay didn’t care. She withheld the gifts she’d brought home for Noah—both the ones she’d picked up and the ones Henry had bought for her son—to bribe her anti-shopping boy into being on his best behavior while they braved the crowds of Labor Day bargain hunters to find the best deals on what supplies and clothes her parents hadn’t already bought him. She’d arrived at their Indianola house bright and early this morning to discover that they had already purchased damned near a new wardrobe for Noah as well as his football gear. She had been simultaneously annoyed and grateful, and promised she’d find a way to pay them back. Her father had told her they’d only accept repayment if it came from Max.

  “You can’t keep trying to do this all on your own, Lindsay,” her mother had added. “Noah has two parents, and it’s well past time the other one was reminded of that.”

  She didn’t like shopping much more than her son, but she drew out their excursion to delay the inevitable phone call she’d have to make to Max this afternoon. At least her son was behaving himself. Maybe she hadn’t needed to bribe him. Maybe he was as happy to see her as she was to see him. He’d been a chatterbox, quizzing her about her trip to Montana, but his energy was draining, and in the last hour, he’d almost stopped talking, so they’d hauled their bags out to her car and adjourned to the mall’s food court to refuel before heading for their last stop in the mall—shoes.

  While they ate their pizza, she drank in the sight of him, reacquainting herself with his cherished features—the blue eyes he’d inherited from her, the dark hair he’d gotten from Max, and the mixture of them both that had combined into a visage that was uniquely Noah and hinted of the handsome young man he’d become far too quickly. When he caught her watching him, he smiled and blessed her with her favorite funny face. Laughing, she copied him and soon had him laughing freely with her. For the time being, Max’s corrosive influence was nowhere to be found.

  As a testament to another growth spurt in the works, Noah scarfed two pieces of pizza before she’d finished one. And they weren’t small slices. As they cleaned up after lunch, she wondered how long his new school clothes were going to fit him. They talked as they walked toward the first shoe store, and she noted an increasing whininess in his voice, and she figured that growth spurt was probably in progress. If so, she couldn’t blame him. They’d been on their feet most of the day, and combine that with impending growing pains…. Poor guy.

  “We’re almost done, bud,” she said when they paused in front of their destination and he gave her a withering look when a bubbly store employee almost bounced over to them.

  “What can I help you find today?” the clerk asked brightly.

  “I don’t think we need any help just yet,” Lindsay replied, “but thank you.”

  “All right. Just let me know if you do, and I’ll be happy to assist you.”

  After the woman moved off to assist other customers, Lindsay ushered Noah toward the aisle with his shoe size. She skimmed the prices of several and let him choose half a dozen he liked from those that were within her budget, but she noted how his eyes flicked to one pair that was well out of her price range. She wished she could just splurge—just this once—if only to see him smile. He was only eight, for God’s sake, but already he was picking up the look of resignation she frequently had when she thought about the very real possibility that life was never going to get any better than this. Sighing, she asked him to try on the shoes. He stuffed his feet into the first pair and grimaced.

  “Too small?” she asked.

  “No, but really not comfortable.” He stood up, wiggled his toes, and took a few steps, trying to make the footwear work, but at last, he gave up and jerked the shoes off and tossed them back into their box. “Just once, I wish I didn’t have to pick shoes by price.”

  “I’m sorry, baby,” she sighed. “I wish we didn’t have to, too.”

  “Mom….”

  “I know, I know. I’m sorry I called you baby. Habit. I really missed you while I was in Montana.”

  Abruptly, he hugged her, clinging to her like he hadn’t in a long time. “I really missed you, too.”

  There’s my sweet boy. Lindsay pinched her eyes closed and took a deep breath.

  He tried on the rest of the shoes, but only one pair was a good fit. He had such narrow feet, just like her, and most of the shoes were so wide, but to his credit, he didn’t look at the pair still on the shelf that he so obviously wanted. She’d hoped to get him three new pairs because he’d either outgrown or worn the ones he had to pieces, but so far….

  She stood while he went back through the shoes to make sure he couldn’t make any of the others work and grabbed the other pair. There were other shoe stores they could try in the store, but since they’d started with the cheapest first, they weren’t likely to find much else in them. She dropped the box on the floor in front of him.

  “Here, try these on.”

  He glanced between her and the shoes, and the guilt in his eyes nearly broke her heart. “But….”

  “Just try them on, all right? And wipe that grin off your face,” she added with a smile of her own when he beamed, “because you may have to make them and this other pair last.”

  The expensive pair naturally fit perfectly. With that item off their list and her purse lighter than she liked, they escaped the crowded mall and drove home to her parents’ house. After the bustle of Silverdale, the quiet of Indianola was a welcome relief, and Lindsay had to swallow a surge of claustrophobia. Silverdale wasn’t exactly a big town, and the busyness of it had never bothered her before, but after nine days in the exquisite tranquility of Northstar, it was a shock to her system.

  Her mother was out watering her garden when Lindsay parked her car in the driveway. The greenness of the surrounding forests and the vibrant splashes of color in the garden were a strange sight, and Lindsay marveled at how much the open landscapes of Montana had grown on her. Noah gave his grandmother a quick hug before racing inside, claiming an urgent need for the bathroom. Lindsay stayed outside and helped her mother deadhead the cheerful multi-colored poppies that lined the front walkway.

  “Did you have a productive shopping trip?” Debbie asked.

  “We did. Got everything else we needed, so Noah should be set for school.”

  “Are you still planning on giving him your goodies here, or would you rather wait and do it at home?”

  “Here of course. Chelsea’s ex was dropping Spencer off just as I headed over here, and I know he’ll try to sneak some of Noah’s stuff if we wait until we get home.”

  “You both look tired, so I thought maybe you’d just want to head home.”

  “If anything, I’d rather stay here a bit longer.”

  “Well, good because I pulled out enough chicken for all of us, so why don’t you just stay for dinner.”

  “Thanks, Mama. Is Dad home yet?”

  “No, he’s running a little late this afternoon.”

  “Just one more week until he retires. Are you looking forward to it?”

  “You bet I am. You’d think having so much time by myself in the summers, I’d know what to do with all this alone time, but I still don’t. And speaking of retirement, I finalized our lease of that condo in Sedona.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “November first through March thirty-first, but we’ll of course be back for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Are you sure you won’t move in here and look after the place while we’re gone?”

  “I can’t, Mama.”

  Debbie paused in her deadheading chore and regarded her daughter with one brow lifted. “Can’t… or won’t?”

  “I should probably call Max before Dad gets home. Mind if I use your phone?”

  H
er mother eyed her but didn’t press for clarification. “Go right ahead, honey.”

  Lindsay sighed in relieve and turned away. She couldn’t stay here while her parents were in Arizona even if she kept up rent and bills on her house with Chelsea to make sure she didn’t lose it. It would be too hard to leave her parents’ spacious custom home and return to the cramped quarters of her rental, and she would not move back in with her parents. She had worked too hard to win her independence to give it up now.

  With that vow, she stepped inside. The front door opened into the entryway. To her right was the sprawling living room with its two full-sized couches sitting across the wall from the pair of bay windows that offered a view of the water and Bainbridge Island beyond the Grangers’ bluff-top home across the street. To her left behind a wall lined with coat pegs was the dining room. Also to her left farther toward the rear of the house was her favorite room—the large, bright kitchen. A long counter separated it from the living room, and with that and the island, she never had to fight for workspace when she cooked here. Behind that, at the back of the house, was her mother’s office, which had a sliding glass door that opened into a backyard she’d thought was fairly large until she’d spent over a week in Montana. The dining room, kitchen, and office were all open to each other and to the living room, and Lindsay had always loved that. Only the master suite, bathroom, and two bedrooms, which sat in an L around the living room down a hall that ran behind the wall with the couches, were closed off. This had been her home for the first eighteen years of her life, and downsizing to her first apartment had been a stifling adjustment. She pushed that memory from her mind and reminded herself of the task at hand.

  Dread made each step toward the phone in the airy kitchen heavier than the last, and by the time she dialed Max’s number, her lip curled with it. She wasn’t going to bother with niceties, she promised herself. She wasn’t going to back down, either.

  His wife picked up the phone. “Hello?”