Blossom Street Brides (30 page)

They were barely inside the door when Rooster demanded, “Okay, what is it?”

For the longest moment, Lauren couldn’t do anything more than stare at him.

“Lauren, tell me!”

“This morning,” she started, her voice faltering as she struggled with keeping the anger and disappointment in check. “When I first told Elisa we were married, she was shocked.”

“So?”

“So … she asked me if I really knew you.”

“You know me,” he countered.

“Do I, Rooster? Do I really know you?”

“In the biblical sense, I would say you know me pretty darn well.”

He might have thought he was funny, but Lauren wasn’t the least bit amused.

Rubbing her palms together, she calmly stated, “Elisa asked if I’d read the background report my dad got on you.”

“Had you?”

“No, but my father had, so I didn’t think it was necessary.” What a fool she’d been.

“So you read it this morning after Elisa suggested it might be a good idea? And something in the report badly shook you?” Thankfully, Rooster was good at filling in the blanks. Before she could answer, he added, “You realize those reports aren’t always one hundred percent accurate.”

She wanted to believe that was the case with this one, but it was unlikely.

“Lauren,” he pleaded, “tell me, what did you find that was so horrible that you can barely look me in the eye? Whatever it is, we’ll straighten it out.”

For just an instant, hope flared that there had been a mistake, and yet, intuitively, she knew that might not be possible.

“Rooster, please don’t lie to me. I need the truth.” Her words were a plea and a cry.

He blinked hard. “I’ve never lied to you, Lauren. God as my witness, I’ve never lied.”

“Then tell me. Is this your first marriage?”

He couldn’t disguise his surprise. He opened his mouth and then quickly closed it again. “No.”

Lauren felt her knees go weak.

“I was married once before,” he added. “Years ago.” He
walked across the condo and looked out the view window before finally turning around and sitting on the sofa.

“So a marriage that took place ‘years ago’ doesn’t count?” she asked, unable to disguise her sarcasm. “Is that what you’re saying?”

He gestured weakly, using both hands. “Lauren, get real. I’m nearly forty. Yes, I was married. I don’t understand. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal, as you call it, is the fact that you completely forgot to mention this tiny detail about your past.”

“So?”

“And so what else has slipped your mind?” she demanded.

“What do you mean?” he asked, losing his patience now.

Interesting, when she called him on this, that he would get defensive. That raised her suspicions all the higher. Elisa wasn’t the only one who watched those true-crime series on television.

She had more questions that demanded answers. “What about children, Rooster? Were there children?”

“No.” He hesitated, and then reversed himself. “Yes.”

“Is it yes or no?”

He exhaled sharply. “Lacey was pregnant when we married and then later miscarried the baby.”

“What happened?” she asked.

“How would I know?” he snapped. “Women miscarry babies. It wasn’t anything I did, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

“What happened with the marriage?” she clarified.

He walked away from her and kept his back to her. “You’ll have to ask Lacey.”

“Unfortunately, she isn’t here for me to ask, but you are.”

It seemed an eternity before he answered: “We were both young, immature. I had a night job.”

“And she got lonely.”

He shrugged. “Something like that. Like I said, we married too young, before either one of us was ready to settle down.”

“How long were you married?”

“Not long.”

The vague answers upset her all the more. “A year? Five years? Ten?”

“A year, maybe.”

“Maybe?” she asked incredulously.

“We lived together less than a year and then separated. It took a few months for the divorce to go through, so it might have been more than a year that we were legally married.”

“In other words, you weren’t together that entire time?”

“No. Come on, Lauren, it happened years ago. I don’t remember all the finite details. If you want to make a huge issue out of it, fine. It’s a part of my life I’d rather put behind me. You’re right, I should have told you. I would have in time.”

“Why not before the wedding?” This was the burning question.

“Because I didn’t feel it was necessary or important.”

“Is there anything else you didn’t feel necessary to mention that I should know?”

“No,” he all but shouted.

“You’re sure about that?” she asked, her voice raised to the same volume as his.

His gaze narrowed. “What did you do? Did you go digging for dirt in my past, is that it?”

“I didn’t need to. It was all right there in the background check my father had done on you. My mistake was that I didn’t bother to read it.”

“What else did you find?” he demanded.

“You told me you were an only child.”

His eyes widened, and he looked away. “Okay, you’ve got me there again. I did have a sister. She died when I was young, too young for me to remember her. So, technically, you’re right, I wasn’t an only child.” He walked into her kitchen and poured himself a glass of water, which he drank down in several large gulps. He set the empty glass down on the countertop and then stepped back.

Lauren didn’t know what to say or if she should say anything.

He remained in the kitchen and pressed his hands against the edge of the countertop as he leaned forward. “I’m beginning to get the picture here. You’re having second thoughts. Regrets. You’re feeling that you might have acted hastily and this marriage wasn’t such a great idea after all.”

“I … I don’t know what I’m thinking.” Her head reeled. “I’m feeling confused and shaken.” Plus a dozen other
emotions she had yet to identify that came at her like a boxer’s fists.

“You’re unsure?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “You don’t hide the fact that you were married from the woman you’re about to marry.” The least he could do was apologize, offer a plausible excuse. Anything.

He studied her as though waiting for her to speak.

“Would you have ever told me?” she asked, her voice low now, shaken as she was.

“Of course. You have to admit we rushed into this marriage business.”

“We talked every single day, Rooster. Every single day, oftentimes for hours.”

“Fine. I’m guilty.”

“I’ve lost faith in you—”

“Faith in
us
, you mean,” he clarified.

She didn’t respond.

He walked around the counter and stood with the tips of his fingers in his jean pockets. “What do you want to do?”

She didn’t know. The truth was, she didn’t have a clue what she could or should do. “I can’t answer that.” For all she knew, she might be completely overreacting. While it was true the news of this brief marriage had stunned her, the fact that he had purposely kept it from her cracked the foundation of trust. It was terribly early in their marriage to be confronted with a lie of omission from her husband.

For the longest time they simply stood and stared at each other as if waiting for the other to make a decision.

“I heard what Elisa said,” he admitted after a while.

“When?”

“Just now, while I was in the shop. You might want to know that for future reference.”

“Know what?”

“How clearly voices carry from the back office. Out of sight doesn’t mean the customer in front can’t hear the discussion going on behind the counter area.”

Lauren felt the warmth invade her cheeks. So Rooster was privy to Elisa’s shock when she realized Rooster was the man Lauren had married. The motorcycle man who looked completely out of place in the high-end jewelry store. Anyone looking at him might assume he wouldn’t be able to afford to be shopping in that store.

It deeply embarrassed Lauren that Rooster had heard her friend’s comments.

“Do you share your friend’s sentiments, Lauren? Is that what this is really about? I don’t fit the image of the upscale, corporate ideal Elisa was expecting you to marry?”

“No,” she returned quickly, perhaps a shade too quickly.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes,” she insisted.

The hard look in his eyes challenged her. “Perhaps you should have married Todd.”

She shook her head.

An awkward silence followed, and again it was Rooster who broke it. “Okay, now what?”

“I don’t know.”

“It might be a stretch here, but I’m making the assumption there will be no honeymoon.”

Rather than respond verbally, she nodded.

“That’s what I figured. So what would you like me to do?”

Again, she was at a loss. “I … I don’t know.”

“Would you like me to go away for a while?”

She swallowed hard. “Perhaps that would be for the best. I need time to think this through.”

“How much time?”

She couldn’t answer that. “I don’t know.”

“I’ll tell you what,” he said with a sarcastic edge. “I’m going to conveniently get out of here and give you all the time and the space you need. Just let me know when you’ve made up your mind about us.”

That seemed the best option.

“I only ask one thing.”

She waited.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know, after these last few days,” he paused, “if you’re pregnant.”

She nodded. “I should know within a couple of weeks.”

He held her gaze for one long, intense moment and then walked out the door.

It took a few minutes for the shaking to start, and when it did, Lauren collapsed onto her sofa. This wasn’t what she wanted, either, but now Rooster was gone and she was even more confused about their future than ever.

Knitting is a series of small steps, lovingly worked one stitch at a time on the path to becoming something tangible and cohesive. At the beginning you may fear that you are doing it wrong, but keep working through that fear. Sometimes the bigger picture isn’t apparent until you reach the end of your journey.

—Michelle Miller,

Fickle Knitter

Lydia planned to open the yarn store Saturday morning and stay only a couple hours.

Cody’s baseball game was scheduled for one o’clock, and there was a possibility her mother would be able to come home from the nursing facility later in the afternoon after the fall that had broken her arm. Casey was with Mary Lou now, as she had been every day since her grandmother had taken the tumble. It was discovered later
that Mary Lou had suffered a minor stroke, resulting in the fall.

Margaret was scheduled to work that afternoon and would close the shop at five-thirty.

Lydia had just turned over the
OPEN
sign and had started to straighten out the window display when her first customer of the day arrived. It was Evelyn Boyle.

“Morning, Lydia,” Evelyn said as she strolled into the shop. Whiskers didn’t stir from the front window as the bell chimed. The cat had grown fat and lazy, which wasn’t all that different from every other cat Lydia had ever owned.

“Hi,” Lydia said, greatly relieved to see the other woman, especially now, when she could talk freely without fear of Casey overhearing the conversation. In fact, it was probably for the best that her daughter knew nothing about Lydia meeting with the social worker.

“I’m circling back to see how everything is going since I last talked to you about Casey,” Evelyn stated.

“On your day off?” Lydia teased. Evelyn was like a mother hen looking after her baby chicks. She sincerely cared about the children who were on her caseload and, more impressively, even those who’d been adopted or turned eighteen and were no longer wards of the state.

“I heard about your mother,” Evelyn said. “I stopped by earlier in the week while you and Margaret were at the hospital and left you a message.”

“I got it, and I meant to get back to you, but it’s been a bit hectic this week with Mom in the hospital.”

Evelyn’s concern was evident in the way her forehead creased with worry lines. “How’s your mother doing?”

“Fairly well. Her blood sugars are good, and for a time that was a big concern. The stroke did some damage, but, thankfully, nothing permanent. A few weeks of physical therapy will help. It’s amazing how resilient she is. Her left arm is in a cast, and it’s cumbersome for her, but she’s managing.”

“And Casey?” Evelyn asked. The crease lines on her forehead thickened. “How’s she doing?”

Lydia’s spirits sank as her own worries came front and center. “Not so great, I’m afraid. When we got the news that Mom had fallen, Casey came unglued. I don’t know when I’ve ever seen her more upset. It took Brad and me and Cody to calm her down.”

“Is she better now?”

“Yes, but she spends every available moment with my mother at the nursing home. Mom was in the hospital the first couple days and then transferred to the nursing facility,” Lydia explained.

“What’s happening with the nightmares?”

“They’re not improving. If anything, they’ve gotten worse.” Much, much worse, in fact, especially in the last week.

“By
worse
you mean more frequent? Lasting longer?” Evelyn inquired.

“More frequent,” Lydia explained. “She’s woken us up three times this week, screaming and trembling.”

“And she still refuses to tell you about the dream?”

Lydia’s heart clenched. “Not a word. If you have any advice, I’d be more than grateful to get it.” When it came to Casey and her dreams, the entire family was willing to do whatever was necessary to help the teenager overcome this psychological speed bump.

“Like I explained when you first mentioned it, these dreams aren’t unusual for a teenage foster child.”

“Casey has been adopted.” Casey was no longer a ward of the court. She was an important part of their family.

“Correction. I should have said that for a child who has been part of the foster program and is going through puberty, this isn’t uncommon. Many have nightmares in varying degrees of intensity. It sounds like Casey’s case might be severe.”