Beth dropped her purse and work ID at the door and, not smelling any hints of soup being heated in the kitchen by her fiancé Oz Reiter, entered the trailer's cozy living room. Seeing him slumped on their worn velvet couch, she plunked down beside him, her stomach grumbling for its lunch. She leaned against his arm, but instead of wrapping it around her like he usually did, his posture stiffened.
"What?" she asked. She surreptitiously sniffed her armpits. Nope. Fine.
Oz shifted from side to side, his broad shoulders leaning into her as he echoed the movements of the football player on TV. When they were teens, his size and strength intimidated her before she saw him using it to gently retrieve Mrs. Everett's kitten from the oak on Main. Watching the sixteen-year-old hand the fluffball back to its owner with a sweetness she hadn't seen in other boys, her heart had grown warm, and she'd vowed to find a way to catch his attention as something more than just his kid sister's best friend. She wanted those beefy arms wrapped tight around her. While she figured out how to go about doing that, Mandy Mattson had swooped in with her long mane of glossy blond hair, lithe body, and a knowledge of all things mechanical that Beth had absolutely no interest in matching. When Oz, smitten with Mandy and her seemingly bold sexuality as well as her divine homemade brownies, took the rival to the end of year dance Beth had bowed out gracefully--before Oz had even noticed her shy attempts. For almost eight years Beth had ignored her persistent crush and dated others, disappointed as each of them failed to compare to the man she saw in Oz.
Fresh out of college two and a half years ago, Beth returned home to take the recreational therapist position at the town's hospital which served the surrounding semi-isolated mountain and foothill areas. She'd thought she was over her childhood crush until a freshly single Oz came in to visit his elderly aunt in the continuing care wing--which was simply an old folks home tacked onto the hospital for those requiring medical monitoring and attention. When Beth began the physical therapy dance session for her patients he was still in the common room, patiently watching his aunt flip through an old photo album. Always in need of more male partners, he'd obliged her request with a broad smile and stepped in to dance with his aunt as well as a few other ladies. Watching him move smoothly around the room, smiling and laughing with her beloved patients, she'd fallen harder than a four hundred pound gorilla trying to ice skate. She invited him for coffee and pie in the cafeteria afterwards as a thank you and he'd never missed a dance session since.
Well, until two months ago when his father suffered a heart attack, forcing Oz to spend insane hours in the shared accounting business in order to keep it afloat. But beyond the busyness, something was up. She couldn't see it, smell it, or put her finger on it, but it was there like a flash in her periphery. It felt like a breakup. Which was silly. Completely silly. They were planning their upcoming wedding and even saving for a bigger home.
But she still couldn't shake the feeling.
It was as though something she couldn't see had shifted. Lately Oz had been concerned about her following her dreams even though she told him she was following them. Her future was mapped out. She loved her job. But Oz kept telling her there was more to her life. To their life.
She pulled her Dream Home scrapbook off the coffee table and set it on her lap as reassurance. She flipped to the photo of a wrap-around veranda with a double swing where they could sit and talk about their day. She needed a picture of a white picket fence to keep the future family dog in the yard and maybe one of a golden lab as well. Oz had sketched a floor plan that included enough bedrooms for a couple of kids as well as a guest and she studied his tight writing, smiling at the walk-in closet where she could store her wardrobe without taking over Oz's side. Two and a half months ago, Oz had given her the latest clippings that she'd added to the yard section: a hot tub and a gazebo. And that was the last time he expressed an interest.
Beth sorted through the loose clippings of 'undecided add-ons’ in the back of the book. "What do you think? Oak or maple cabinets? And apple trees or lilacs in the front? Or both?"
Oz shrugged as Beth shifted to face him. There was more beyond him feeling overwhelmed with taking care of the family business. More than his father's heart attack and the fact that the air between father and son was strung so tight with live wires that she worried one of them would trip and cause an explosion.
"We lost another client yesterday," Oz said, not looking away from the TV.
Beth froze. "A big one?"
"Moved their business over to Ed’s.”
Beth held her breath. Lately it seemed as though the town was favoring the new accounting firm in town rather than the staid and true offices of Reiter & Son. Which was downright unneighborly of them.
"How did your dad handle it?" she asked. Despite Dr. Nesbit telling Harvey Reiter to take it easy, he wasn't the kind of man to step aside and let Oz do things his way or within his own timeframe. He was constantly telling his son how to run the place via emails, phone calls, and even going as far as sending Oz's mother, Angelica, to check up on the place and deliver instructions.
Oz fished around in the pocket of his worn dress pants and handed Beth a set of keys.
She frowned at the gift. "Aren't these your father's work keys?" She met Oz's brown eyes momentarily before he sank further into the couch, his gaze back on the screen in front of him. "Did you lock him out so you could get work done?" She smiled at the thought of Oz finally taking a stand against his father.
After a long pause, Oz replied, "He resigned."
"What? How? He owns half the business." Beth stared at the warm keys weighing heavy in her hand.
Oz shrugged, his expression darkening.
Beth leaned into the couch, watching Oz's favorite team get tackled two yards from a touchdown. Was Harvey for real, or was this one of his games to make Oz do as he wanted? And if he was actually resigning, what would cause him to leave the business he'd built up over the past twenty-five years? Surely it couldn't be the heart attack. He was supposed to be coming back to work in two weeks. He wouldn't just give it all up. There had to be something she wasn't aware of. Something big.
"Life's too short." Oz sighed heavily and wiped his face with a rough hand.
"Yeah, I know." Her thoughts immediately jumped to her late mother as they always did whenever anyone used the expression. Her mom, Wendy, used to pop a lemon drop candy in Beth's mouth, any time of day, and chirp: Life's too short to wait for the right moment. Get it while you can.
By the time her mother passed away, Beth’s father had been long gone for eleven years and wasn't too keen to step into the unfamiliar daddy role, protesting that his work took him all around the world in a perpetual quest for new oil. Their gran had taken in the two sisters, moving them all into the big apartment over the corner store whose owner supplied the girls with free day-old donuts and Beth with an extra ten pounds she never seemed able to lose. She reached over and snagged a lemon drop out of the bowl she kept on the coffee table and waited for Oz to explain why he thought life was too short. She'd learned over the past eight weeks that if she probed him too much he'd act like a clam being chased with shuckers and a pot of boiling water.
Oz stared at the photo of the house Beth had glued to the cover of her scrapbook and sighed. "He delivered full ownership papers this morning."
Beth grinned and perched on her knees, facing him as she hugged the scrapbook. "You mean you own all of it? Oh my God, we should celebrate! Think of all the things we can do with the business as full owners. All those ideas you've had over the years. You'll make more money and we'll be able to have kids right away. This is so great! We can do it all, Oz." Her smile faded as Oz's expression remained grim. "What? What's wrong?"
His jaw clenched and he drew in a long, controlled breath, giving his head a brisk shake. "Nothing."
"Oz, what? He just gave you this amazing business that you rock at, but you look like he gave you an embalming business and told you to go at it." She softened her tone. "You finally have him out of your hair."
Oz snorted.
"We're Team Wilkineiter, remember?" She laughed, trying to lighten the mood with their bowling league nickname, which combined their last names Wilkinson and Reiter. Wilkineiter (verb): to meet and conquer. "Tell me what's going on in that handsome head of yours so we can conquer whatever it is." Oz leapt off the couch like an uncoiled spring when she touched a lock of his hair.
"You wouldn't understand. Your father doesn't expect anything of you. None of the postcards he sends come with strings attached. You still get to live your life however you want."
She squelched the sting of anger that swirled at the mention of her father and his abandonment. "So do you."
"It's hard to disappoint someone who doesn't care and is never around."
Beth sucked in a sharp breath and carefully set her scrapbook aside. She headed to the kitchen, ignoring his apology. She ate last night's leftovers straight from the container before hurrying back to the living room. Leaning over Oz, she gave him a light peck on the lips.
"Better hustle or you're going to be late for work.” She wondered if that was a silly thing to say to a business owner.
His dark eyes studied her. "What would you say if I told you I wanted to trade it all in?"
She eased onto the couch beside him, knowing she'd be late for her afternoon shift. "Trade what in?"
He glanced around the trailer. "Everything. Move. Start fresh with everything. Hold off on getting married. Go explore. Find new jobs. Live off of nothing?"
Start fresh with everything? "Hold off getting married?" Her pulse picked up as fear surged through her.
"Yeah." He caressed her hand, a hopeful look in his eye. "There's no rush."
She pulled her hand back and lined her scrapbook with the coffee table's edge as Oz stood to pace. She swallowed a lump of dread. “Everything?"
She had a cousin who waited to have kids and now, not even thirty years old, was looking at in vitro. What if it was a genetic flaw? What if she waited and missed her chance?
Oz turned to her, taking a bold step forward, blurting, "I need to change. I need to break out. I need to ..." He pulled his shoulders up, hands bunched at his chest as if he was about to break into song, but couldn't remember the words. "I need to move, and I'm ... I'm trapped."
"Move away from Blueberry Springs, and trapped by what?" What the heck was he talking about? Oz loved their nosey little town, nestled in the middle of nowhere, protected by a semi-circle of mountains and rolling meadows. How could he feel trapped when this was where his family was, his new business, and where they planned to raise their kids?
Oh no. Her stomach lurched as the word trapped circled in her head. It was her. Somehow, despite their mutual talk about their future, she'd made him feel this way. Wedding plans, starting a family, building a home. She'd blindly moved ahead not realizing he wasn't in step with her. How had she missed it? It was the one thing she'd promised she would never do to a man. She'd seen the way her dad ran from their family and the way Oz ran from Mandy when she'd faked a pregnancy to keep him from leaving. And somehow Beth had gone and trapped him.
Crap, crap, crap on a stick. She was everything she'd ever dreamed of not becoming.
But how? He said he wanted the same future.
"Maybe not trapped," Oz said. "More like blocked. Like when you can't move where you want to in chess and you have to wait for the other player to move so you can. Except I'm tired of waiting."
"Trapped and blocked are the same thing." She closed her eyes. Tired of waiting. Waiting for what?
Was she blocking him?
Beth twisted her ring around her finger. Blocked or trapped--neither were words a woman wanted to hear from her fiancé.
"What if I wanted to change my life? What if ..."
Alarm zinged through Beth like lightning. "Yes, of course." Anything to make sure he didn't feel trapped or blocked. Those words equaled losing, and she couldn't lose Oz. She just couldn't. "Let's make some changes." She stood up as though there was something she could do right now such as rearrange the living room.
Oz paced the small room, making the floor creak. "What if this isn't our life? Our true life?" He stopped and turned to face her. "What if we want different things, Beth?"
Wait a second. This wasn't a change she wanted to make. "I don't understand." Her breathing hitched up in her throat as she waited for him to reply.
"You have dreams. I have dreams ... somewhere. I don't know who I am."
"I'm following my dreams," she replied carefully. "And you're an accountant. You own a whole business now."
"A business I never wanted."
Beth’s head tightened and she perched on the edge of the couch, eyes closed, trying to slow her thoughts. She needed to start at the beginning and work her way forward. "You don't like accounting?"
He gave a coarse laugh and shook his head. "I hate it. It's my dad's passion and now he's saddled me with it because he thinks I need to grow up."
Her shoulders relaxed. His dad had him feeling trapped, not her. But he hated his career? When did that happen?
Oz continued, "He's trying to trap me into a stable life--a life he thinks I should have. Not the life I want."
Beth tried to hold herself together. Stable life. Defined by career, marriage, and kids. Her stomach took a nasty swoop.
"I thought you wanted marriage and kids?" she asked, her voice unable to rise above a whisper. They'd had piles of conversations about having kids and how much he wanted a whole gaggle of them. Who was this man? And who was the idiot who conked him on the head and made him forget who he was?
Oz sat beside her and took her hand. He stared at the television, thinking for a second, before turning to her. "I don't know who I am, Beth. I can't have kids if I don't know who I am. I can't wake up ten years from now wondering if I made a wrong turn. I can't do that to you. I can't keep putting one foot in front of the other if I might be going in the wrong direction. You need to be able to marry a man who knows who he is."
"I don't understand. What do you need? What can I do?" Beth tried to block out the thought that he might not love her in the way she’d thought.
He sagged into the couch. "I don't know."
"Well, sell the business. Find something else." Her voice tightened as she said, "We can wait to have kids."
Oz pushed a hand through his hair. "I can't sell it."
"Why not?"
"If I sell in the first five years all proceeds go to my dad."
"But you own half! I mean, all of it. You guys were partners."
"I don't own my original half outright because I've only worked off about a quarter of it. So, if I sell now I get about twelve and a half percent of the business. If I wait five years, I get it all."
"Five years is a long time when you're waiting to get what you want." Boy, she knew that one. "If you don't want the business, sell it. Like you said, Oz, life is too short." Her heart stuttered at the idea of upheaval. Of Oz starting fresh in a new job with no vacation time and the possibility of them having to move if he couldn't find something suitable. Of having to make new friends and finding a new hospital to work in. It was terrifying. She finally felt as though she had the beginnings of a real home and a family here in Blueberry Springs. She didn't want to toss it all up in the air. Not for something that sounded, and felt, so uncertain.
But if she was with Oz, it would be worth it. Anything would be worth it.
Oz took her hands in his. "I love you, Beth. You know that, right?"
"Of course, I do. And I'll love you no matter what you decide to do with your life. If we have to move, then we move. I'm here with you."
"I don't know if I can do this."
"I'll be right there with you. It'll be okay."
"No." Oz's eyes grew wet and Beth’s face heated from a fight or flight reaction. "I can't put you through this. I think ..." He grabbed both her hands and held them tight. "I think I need to do this alone."
Oz sat hunched on their couch, his knees jiggling up and down. He wouldn't meet her eye for longer than a split second. Beth stared at the framed photos that sat three deep on the shelf above Oz. The two of them looked so happy up there. So in love. Not like this real life Oz was slowly revealing.
"A break," she repeated, trying to make it sink in. "You want a break." She knew she'd said it a hundred times already, but her mind refused to cooperate and accept the concept. Seriously. What idiot had conked her perfectly good fiancé over the head causing this mess? And what had gone wrong with their relationship that she couldn’t see?
Oz said gently, "You can't raise happy kids in a happy family if you aren't happy and don't know who you are. You can't pin your life on someone else's happiness. I've got to figure out who I am." Oz muted the commentator who was laughing uproariously at his cohost who had just predicted that the underdog team would sweep the cup out from under the favored contender. "A month. Maybe less. I don't know. I just need to figure out what I want, you know?" He arched his brows and gave her a hopeful look that made her want to give in.
Beth sat beside him, pushing her knee into the side of his leg, her hands clamped onto one of his tight quads. She squeezed her eyes shut. A month. She could give him a month to figure things out. He would do the same for her with ease and grace. This was a sacrifice she could make for the man she loved. Besides, the sex when they got back together would be utterly mind-blowing. But no quickies for a month? That was going to be hard. Harder than scaling a mountain in flip-flops.
"A break will be good for us," Oz said, tilting his head so their foreheads rested against each other. Her eyes flooded with tears and she swiveled away. She already missed him so badly her chest ached. He brought her face back to meet his, kissing her long and slow, her tears slipping between their lips. He broke off the kiss and said, "You'll have some time to follow your dreams, too."
Beth resisted the urge to push him away and snap that she didn't need time because, unlike him, she knew who she was and what she wanted with her life. Exactly. Down to the finest detail: cut and pasted in her scrapbook.
"It's been a hard couple of months. Dad ... man, his heart attack just kind of opened my eyes, you know?" Oz’s voice shook. "Thank you for understanding, Beth. For not letting us turn into everyone around us."
Lungs tight, her voice barely able to strike its way out, Beth asked, "What's wrong with everyone around us?" Blueberry Springs was full of wonderful, happy people who went about their lives with an ease that came with having a contented routine that provided fulfillment. There was security and comfort in that.
Oz passed his arm through the air as though encompassing the town. "Everyone's moved forward without knowing who they really are. Like they're scared to find out. They just keep clomping one foot in front of the other, working at the same boring job all their life because it's easy and they don't know what else they would do. Everyone starts popping out kids and it's like game over. They just settle in and grow old without ever exploring their dreams and the things they could do if they had the courage. There's so much life out there."
Beth pushed away from Oz, her mind spinning.
"I mean, look at your sister. She gave up a scholarship to play volleyball for a big school. She was going to become a professional coach. She had what it took." He cupped his hand as if holding something tangible. "Both you and I know she could have competed nationally."
"But instead she raised me when Gran and my dad couldn't." Beth turned away. "Don't worry, I get it." Tears thick with guilt blocked her throat and prevented her from saying more. She knew she'd altered her sister's future. When Gran's health started failing and she had to be moved to the continuing care facility, Cynthia, who had just finished high school and was about to embark on her semi-charmed life, stepped in to support Beth through her final two years of high school instead of sending her off to be raised by their father who was working in God-knows-where.
For that reason, she had to let Oz go. She couldn't put her life before his. She began to leave the room, but Oz snagged her hand, holding her back.
"I want something more for us, Little B. I want us to enter our marriage knowing full well who we are so we don't become one of those resentful, bitter couples who always think the other one held them back somehow."
"You think I'm holding you back?"
"I think we're both capable of more.” His breath was warm on her skin. She stepped back, wanting space. "What would you do if anything were possible? There's got to be a secret dream in there bursting to get out. Everyone has one."
She stalked to the room's doorway, swiping at her tears but unable to keep up with the flow. "You know what my dream is. I want a family. I want stability. To be smothered with love and a sense of belonging. I want people to lean on, and for us to be there for each other. I want to have a crowded table at Thanksgiving where everyone is laughing and shares a history. More than just Cynthia, Gran, and me reading a postcard from Dad. That's my dream." She flexed her hands. He didn't get what it was like not having a real family. Unlike him, she knew exactly what she wanted and had ever since she saw him rescuing Fluffy: him.
Her breathing became labored as she fought for control. Breathe, girl, breathe.
Oz tugged her to him and wrapped his strong arms around her, making it even harder to breathe. "I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry. But we've got to. I can't see any other way. I love you."
Beth sniffed and tried not to bawl. It was only a month. She could do a month. It would be fine.
"We'll be even better than ever after."
She nodded, trusting him. She pulled in a deep breath, trying to relax and be okay with the idea. What was she going to do about the wedding? Keep planning? Or was she supposed to hold off on that, too?
Oz said quietly, "I'll move out. Just for a bit."
Beth shoved him hard, sending him scrambling to stay upright. "No. No! People don't fix themselves in a bit. I can't live here without you, Oz." She gestured to the shelf of photos. "This isn't a home--my home--without you. I can't be surrounded by happy memories knowing you weren't happy when we were together and that you felt trapped and unsatisfied. That you wanted out." It was that simple. She had to be the one who left. She couldn't be the one sitting here waiting for him to come back.
Oz reached out. "Beth, it's not like that."
"Well, that's how it feels. Call me when you want me again." She wrenched the engagement ring off her finger and set it on top of the TV, tears streaking down her cheeks. She bolted from the trailer, slamming the door behind her.
Sobs rose up in her throat as she revved her Volvo, then popped it into gear. The tires screeched as she flew away from the trailer like a tornado. She pointed the wagon toward work, wiping away her tears with the heel of her hand as she wove down the road. Son of a monkey’s uncle.
How did she become that woman? How had she misread his cues about him wanting family and a big house? And what the heck was wrong with being like everyone else? Wasn’t that the goal?
She shivered and cranked the car's heat. A whole month of being away from him and all the while living in the same small town. The rumor mill was going to lock it into overdrive and steamroll them until there was nothing left.
She flicked on the wipers, swishing the cold spring rain to the side. She slowed her thoughts to match the wiper's pacing. Her Plan A for all crises was to run to her sister. But with Oz's words still ringing in her ears, she knew she couldn't ask her sister to save her. Not this time. She had to let her sister live her life. Just like Oz needed to live his.
Plan B was always Gran. But Gran couldn't take her in. Which meant Plan C.
Unfortunately, there was no Plan C.
Plan C might be her best friend Katie Reiter who lived in a one-bedroom basement suite. But she was also Oz's kid sister meaning Beth couldn't put her in a position where it could be construed that she was choosing sides. And everyone else in town ... well, she didn't want to go there.
The problem with standing on her own two feet, which was exactly what she needed to do, was that her own two feet couldn't afford setting her up in a new place. And a new place for one month was unrealistic. She'd really screwed the pooch thanks to her stupid pride.
She hunched over her steering wheel, hurt clenching her soul as she stared at the delicate buds trying to leaf out on the trees lining the road. She stared until the world fuzzed out of focus and a car tooted cheerfully behind her. She bolted upright, forcing herself to move her car through the four-way stop and on to work. Although the wipers creaked their way across the windshield, her vision remained blurred by water. She dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her cardigan and wrestled with the urge to run. Run from Oz and the pain of his rejection. Run from the town and the inevitable gossip, meddling, and kind-hearted looks which would break her down piece by piece. Run from this place, so laden with memories. Run from everything.
But she couldn't leave Gran, Cynthia, and her patients just because she was experiencing a painful speed bump in her love life. It was only one month. That was all. She could do this.
A fresh bout of tears let loose as she pulled into the hospital's parking lot. She stared at the one-storey brick building. Finishing her afternoon shift while she looked and felt like a bag of run-over crap was going to suck big time. Sighing, she plopped one foot out of the car, then the other. She stomped through a cold puddle, squelching her way down the hospital's hallways seeking Katie who was on day shift. Despite knowing her friend couldn't save her, she needed some no-nonsense advice from the woman who'd been there since the day she found Beth hiding in a corner of the funeral home bawling her eyes out over her mother. Katie had rubbed her back and handed her tissue after tissue without saying a word. When Beth was finally all cried out, her new friend had pulled her down the alley behind Main Street and told her to wait outside the back door of Benny's Big Burger. With a confidence that had surprised fourteen-year-old Beth, Katie had strode into the seldom-used delivery entrance and returned a minute later with a pie plate containing half of his well-known chocolate maven pie and two forks. They'd plunked down in the alley, their backs against the rough brick wall, and dug in. When they were done with the pie, they were best friends.
Pausing in the quiet hospital hall, the smell of antiseptic clinging to her, Beth peeked around the corner, hoping to spy Katie's familiar kitten-patterned nursing scrubs. There she was at her nursing station, head bent, a slight smile tugging at her lips--without a doubt reading a romance novel. Beth checked her watch. She'd missed over an hour of her afternoon shift. Taking a deep breath, she scurried to Katie, keeping her head lowered so nobody would see her bloodshot eyes.
"Oh, hey.” Katie glanced up, slipping papers into an uneven stack, hiding her novel.
"Hiding a gushy romance?" Beth asked in a gloomy voice, her attempt at humor failing. God, this was going to suck. Everyone was going to know there was trouble before the afternoon coffee break even hit.
Katie cleared her throat and cast her eyes to the side, her fingers fidgeting with the stack of papers. "Did Dr. Leham find you? He paged you, like, twenty times."
"What? Who?"
"The new guy. Dr. Leham."
"Oh, right. No."
Katie frowned at Beth. "You feeling okay? You don't look too good." She swiftly brought Beth behind the protection of the nursing station's high counter and pushed her into a chair, twisting her away from Amy, a passing nurse.
Beth rubbed her bare finger and tried to smile. "Know anyone who needs a temporary roommate?"
Katie spit out the coffee she was drinking and began coughing and sputtering. "What? Where the hell is your ring?"
Beth bit her lower lip, trying to stop from tearing up. "We're taking a break."
"Is this because of Mandy? I know she's still yearning after him, but I thought he'd learned his lesson with her ages ago."
Beth sniffed and shook her head. "It's not Mandy. It's me. He wasn't ready." She buried her head in her hands and stared at her wet sneakers.
"Men," Katie grumbled. "Such commitmentphobes. It's nothing more than cold feet." She hoisted Beth out of the chair. "You need to put on a push-up bra and stomp over there. You let him know that he's going to lose a good thing if he keeps acting this way."
Beth resisted Katie's physical directing. "I can't. If I push him on this … that'll be it. I know it. He's freaked out, Katie. Something's wrong." She met her best friend’s dark gaze. "I can't lose him."
The woman studied Beth for a moment, then pulled her into a tight hug. "Well, whatever you decide, I'm with you, okay? You'll get through this. And we'll smarten him up if it's the last thing we do."