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Claire did as told and sat down on a wooden stool by the island. Her shoulders slumped, she dug into the cheesy goodness. Its warmth radiated outward from her stomach, a welcome relief to days of junk food. She didn’t look up from her bowl until she’d polished off its gooey contents.
Her mother’s no-nonsense glare froze her to the hard seat.
“I know you’ve been through a lot, young lady, but moping around your house smelling like a gym sock isn’t going to fix anything.” Glenda quirked an eyebrow. “So what’s the plan?”
Claire sighed. She’d been trying to figure that out for days now. Which disaster did she want to deal with first? Harvest? Jake? Right now it hurt too much to try to tackle either heartache. “I don’t know, Mom.”
Glenda opened her mouth, but snapped it shut when the phone started ringing.
Grateful for the reprieve, Claire slid off the stool and grabbed the receiver. “Hello?”
“I’m looking for a…uh…Claire Layton.” The man’s cough rattled through the line. “She in?”
“I’m Claire, who’s this?”
“Francis Warrick, Jake’s dad. I want to know what the hell you did to my son.”
Blood pounded in her ears at the audacious statement from a man she’d never met. “What I did to him?” she stammered.
“Oh hell, that came out all wrong,” he wheezed. “But he won’t tell me a damn thing, and he’s acting as mean as a cat that got poked in the eye with a stick.”
He was miserable, too? Maybe she had been wrong. Her heartbeat sped up. “So you figured you’d just call me up and use your silver tongue to get the scoop, huh?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I’m not known for my people skills.” His chest rattled as his laughter set off a coughing fit.
The sound pained her. “How’re you feeling, Mr. Warrick?”
“Like shit, but that’s the way it goes.” He paused. “Look, we don’t know each other, but my boy’s a mess. If you two can’t fix this, I might have to off him just to give myself some peace during my last days on this earth.”
Claire had no idea what to say. His words sent hope burbling up from her toes, straightening her spine and energizing her weary body. Jake missed her. What other explanation was there? “Mr. Warrick…” Excited possibilities swirled around in her head, but no more words came. The silence grew as static crackled though the line.
“Yeah, well, I’ve said my piece.” He cleared his throat. “So think about what I’ve said. Goodbye.”
Staring down at the silent phone, uncertainty floated in her chest. She loved him, but was that enough? He’d walked away so easily from her.
Questions she couldn’t answer rocketed around her head as she hung up the phone. No matter what she did, she risked heartbreak, but only one choice came with big rewards.
Claire pivoted to face her mom. “That was Jake’s dad. He said Jake is a wreck.”
“Of course he is. There’s something about falling for a Layton that will really throw you for a loop, make you rethink your life.” Glenda covered the casserole dish in plastic wrap and slid it into the refrigerator.
Curiosity piqued, Claire walked back to the island. Her parents had had the perfect romance, from the stories her mom used to tell after one too many eggnogs on their Christmas Eve wedding anniversary. “But, you’ve always said it was love at first sight.”
“That doesn’t mean it was all smooth sailing.” Glenda leaned against the refrigerator, a soft smile curving her lips. “I was about to graduate college and become the next Barbara Walters when I met him. We were waiting for the Greyhound bus to go home from school for the Christmas holiday. I noticed him standing in line at the ticket window. He was so tall, with honey-brown hair.”
The man in question, now with hardly any hair, whooped and clapped in the living room. The game must be going well.
“Well, it was a long, boring ride, and I figured a cute boy would liven it up. I finagled it so we’d sit next to each other. Eight hours later, I knew I was not going to be the next Barbara Walters. I was going to be the next Mrs. Layton.”
“Just like that you gave up your dream? Don’t you regret that?”
Her mom sat down on the stool next to Claire. A dreamy look of nostalgia eased away the deep grooves in her forehead. A small smile tugged at the corners of her pink lips. “I didn’t give up anything. I gained everything.”
“But…” Claire’s words evaporated when her mother shook her head.
“It may not have been New York, but I sat behind the WOMD news desk for twenty years. I loved that job until the day I retired. In place of a big city, I got your father, your brothers, you and a lifetime of happy memories.”
Glenda slapped her palms on the island, pushed herself up from the stool and exhaled a deep breath. “What you think you want from life isn’t always what you really need. You just have to be smart enough to figure out the difference between a Brett and a Jake.” She swiped Claire’s empty bowl from the island and carried it to the sink. “The question is, do you have the gumption to get your stinky self into the shower and then go track down that fella?”
