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~Dixon~
I PULLED MY CELL OUT of my back pocket. I didn’t recognize the number, but because I was now selling items from my web page, I answered. Maybe it’d be another custom order, or a sale on something already listed.
“Hello?”
“I am looking for Dixon Reed.”
The answering voice was male, smooth, confident, and set me right on edge. “This is Dixon. How can I help you?”
“Well, Mr. Reed, you can help me by staying away from my fiancée.”
My stomach dropped. Mark. It had to be. I’d never spoken directly to him, but the sound of his voice dinged my memory of that night in the hotel when he’d dismissed me and Cora.
But damn if I was going to let this asshole run this conversation. I had a few choice words for him and his smarmy lawyer attitude. He might think he owned the world, but he sure as hell didn’t own me...or Cora.
“Since I don’t know who you are engaged to, buddy, you’ll have to be more specific. But, if this is Mark, and you’re talking about Cora, you are sadly mistaken. She’s not engaged to you, despite any pressure from you or her father.”
“I believe you know exactly who this is. And yes, we may not be engaged at this moment, but it’s only a matter of time.”
The smirk could be heard through the phone, and I tightened my fist in response. The loser was lucky he wasn’t in front of me, because I’d gladly punch his face in for even thinking Cora was going to be with him, much less marry the jerk.
“Well, until I hear differently from Cora, I’m going to keep seeing her. Nothing you say is gonna change that.” I plopped on the bench in front of the warehouse, my legs unwilling to be as strong as my words.
“I’d think again, Mr. Reed. Cora indeed will be my wife. I expect by the end of the week, you’ll be singing a different tune.” His voice hardened. “And you will stay out of my way. I can make your life very...unpleasant, Mr. Reed, if you insert yourself where you don’t belong. My private investigator gave me quite the dossier on you and your family...what little is left of it now.”
I sucked in a breath. Even though I’d told Cora all about me and my past, it cast a long shadow over everything I did. Everything I thought. And now it was going to push Cora into Mark’s arms...or at least let him pull her into his world.
“You know I can give Cora everything she needs. You have nothing. Not a college degree, not a home, no prospects for a career. How did you think you would ever fit into Cora’s world? She has money, class, intellect... Surely you understand, even with your limited mind, that you don’t belong with someone so superior to you in every way?”
I could hardly breathe at his harsh words. Unfortunately, they were the same words that had swirled in my head, mostly in the negative voice of Jonah. If I wasn’t sitting down, I would have fallen over at the impact. As it was, I couldn’t come up with a coherent response.
“Your silence confirms we are on the same page. Leave Cora to me. Stay out of her life. Or I will be sure to make yours a living hell.”
The phone went dead, and my clenched fist went slack. I might have sat there for ten minutes or ten hours for all I knew. The damn phone rang in my hand again, shocking me back to reality. This time the caller ID showed a picture of Cora’s face, from the picture we’d taken in that god-awful chair at the Trunk.
“Dixon?”
“Hey. Everything okay?” It was all I could do to keep an even tone. I couldn’t bear to use any of the nicknames I usually did. My head was hardening my heart against disappointment.
“Hi, Dixon. Yes...no...I don’t know. I know you’re working, but I really wanted to see you. Can I stop by your jobsite?”
She didn’t quite sound like herself. Something had to be up. Maybe she was calling to tell me we were over. That she was going to marry Mark. That anything we’d had was just a fling before she moved on to what she really wanted.
“I’m at the warehouse to get some equipment.” I swallowed. “It’s not a good time.”
“How about I pick up some sandwiches and meet you at the warehouse? Would that okay? I really need to talk to you.”
The sunshine in her voice was gone. I could feel the rainclouds swelling, ready to rain on me and turn my life into that fog-filled, misty place where I was alone.
“I need to say something to you, too. But let’s just get this done now, all right? It’s been fun, Cora, but I don’t see this going anywhere.”
“What—”
“Like I said before, I’ve never been one for relationships, and it’s clear you’re too much for me. Too good. Too kind. Too—”
“Dixon, that’s bullshit. Nothing could be further from the truth.”
“Listen. I’m sorry, but it’s over. Good luck with your bed-and-breakfast. I’m sure Mark will make your every dream come true.” I disconnected the call and turned off the phone.
––––––––
A DAY LATER, I STARED at the walls. The beige, lifeless walls. If there was a better metaphor for my life without Cora, I wasn’t sure what it would be. It’d only been one day, but all the color had been sucked out of existence. I tried to scroll through my social media feed—I had a few comments on some posts of the projects I had in progress—but I couldn’t concentrate. My mind drifted back to Cora...and the conversation I’d had with Mark. All I’d do is pull Cora down...Mark could give her everything she deserved.
My head told me that I’d done the right thing by breaking up with Cora, but my heart was miserable. Maybe I could drown my sorrows like every other clown with a broken heart. I was starting to understand all those sad country songs where the guy is crying in his whiskey.
Definitely time to head downstairs for a drink and maybe some big-brother advice. Then again, he’d told me not to fuck things up with Cora, so maybe Jake wouldn’t be a source of comfort...just more recriminations. And damn if I wasn’t doing a good enough job on my own on that front.
So no drink. Maybe a ride out on the back roads would help me clear my head. Except...all I was thinking about now was our date overlooking the valley. And the visit to her grandmother’s cottage. Which just led me back to how much Mark could offer her...and how little I could.
Fuck.
This was getting me nowhere. Maybe I could bang out some of this frustration on a project. That sounded like a better idea, so instead of heading into the bar or out for a road trip, I drove over to the warehouse. At least there, I could be alone in my misery.
I flipped the lights on and walked to the workbench. I had a few projects in different stages. I was almost finished with the tables for Guy. The website—thanks to Cora’s input—was getting attention. A few interior designers interested in upcycling had found me online, and now recommended me to their clientele. It wasn’t enough to quit the construction job yet, but it was getting close.
Instead of paying attention to any projects, I sat my sorry ass down in front of the vanity. We hadn’t been able to get it into Cora’s hotel penthouse suite before her father kicked her out, and then it was too big for the apartment she was now sharing with Wendy. So here it was, getting covered with dust and practically forgotten. The glow that had penetrated my life was as muted as the dulled sparkle on the table top.
––––––––
THAT NIGHT, I’D PLANNED to bring a special thank-you present to Ryan’s parents. Greg and Wilma had always been kind to me, and letting me use the warehouse space and scrounge from the demo’d materials had really helped get me started.
I had chosen a barn wood box as a gift for Greg and Wilma. It’d been in the warehouse for a few days, just waiting for the night they’d invited me to dinner. Ryan told me I always had a standing invitation, but I hated to butt in on family dinners...even if I really wanted to be a part of a family like that.
Wilma opened the door. “Dixon, honey, it’s so good to see you! Come on in and tell us all about what’s going on with your business.” She pulled me through the doorway and had the door closed before she kept going. “And that girl...Ryan says you are getting serious with someone. When do we get to meet her?” She smiled expectantly, looking between me and her husband.
Greg reached over and shook my free hand. “Dixon. Good to see you. Now, Wilma, let the boy get a breath in before you start grilling him on his love life.” He smiled at me and winked. “The G-rated version, of course.”
“Ha. Yeah. Right.” I swallowed and tried to redirect Wilma’s attention. I thrust out the barn wood box. “This is for you. Both of you.” I looked over at Greg to include him. “Thanks for letting me use the warehouse. It’s been a great spot to make my projects and store them until I get them sold.”
Ryan came into the living room, little Gabby in his arms. “See, I told you Dixon was coming.” He tickled her belly, and she laughed and squirmed in his arms.
“Hi, Dix.” The freckle-faced five-year-old put her palm to her lips, made a loud smacking sound, and flung her hand in my direction.
The munchkin was the only one I’d let call me Dix. She was too cute to say no to...which was how she’d wrapped Ryan around her little finger. Or maybe that was Gabby’s mother Grace who had him wrapped up.
Either way, I grabbed the kiss and blew her a kiss back. “Hey, kiddo. Is Mom here?” I looked at Ryan. “Or is she on a date?” The state of my love life might be in shambles, but Ryan had been in love with Grace for years without ever saying anything to her about it. I broke up with Cora to make sure she had the good life she deserved; Ryan kept himself in Grace’s life and made himself miserable over every date she had. At least I planned to stay far away from Cora and spare myself the agony of watching her bloom without me.
Just then, Grace came out from the kitchen. “Did I hear my name? Come here, baby. Ryan must be tired of holding you so long. Hey there, Dixon.” She brushed up against Ryan as she reached for Gabby.
Maybe no one else noticed, but Ryan’s eyes followed Grace’s every move as she took Gabby back to the kitchen.
“Hey, Grace.” I nudged Ryan. “Looks like her date is with you tonight, buddy,” I whispered in his direction.
“Shut up.” Annoyed, Ryan shoved my arm and then followed Grace into the kitchen. “Last one in has to wash dishes!”
“Oh, boys!” Wilma laughed and gave me a smile. “Maybe someday that boy will get serious about telling her how he feels. Can’t be soon enough for me. I’d love to say that cutie is my granddaughter.”
Greg put his arm around his wife. “Now, Wilma, let the boy move at his own pace. Can’t hurry love and all that...” With that, he swung her around and started to hum as he danced her into the kitchen.
––––––––
I PUSHED THE FORK ACROSS the plate one last time. If food could heal a broken heart, Wilma’s apple pie was the thing to do it. “That was delicious. Thanks, Mrs. Chatfield. Awesome as always.”
“Thank you, Dixon. Now tell us more about your business. This centerpiece is so beautiful.” Wilma pointed to the barn wood box centerpiece I’d given her when I arrived. “And lilacs are my favorite.”
“Well, like I said before, I wanted to thank you both”—I looked over at Greg—“for letting me use the space in the warehouse, and thought this would be a small gesture to show my appreciation. I had some smaller wood pieces hanging around, and found those cool milk jugs at a tag sale. Just painted them up, put together the box, added some twine handles, and grabbed some lilacs from the bush at the corner of Jake’s property line.” Never figured Jake for a gardener, but he must have kept the bushes for some reason. Just my luck to be able to add them to the present for Ryan’s parents.
“And what about this online stuff? I didn’t know you knew anything about that.” Greg grabbed the handle of his coffee mug and took a sip. “I leave all that up to a local guy to handle for me. I build houses, not websites!” He chuckled.
As if she hadn’t been in the back of my mind all night, the thought of the website brought Cora right back front and center. An ache built in my heart. “Yeah, me neither, really. I had someone create it for me, and I can fumble my way through posting new projects for sale on the website. Social media’s much easier for me to deal with. Getting lots of likes on the stuff I’m posting, and even have a few interior designers following me and sharing my stuff.”
“I bet Cora is thrilled about that.” Ryan glanced from Gabby on his lap to his mother. “You know, his girlfriend. She’s the one who told him to show off his stuff online and sell it.” He grinned at me. “The one who inspired him in the first place.”
His singsong taunt cut deep. Of course, he didn’t mean it like that. But he had no idea about the conversation I’d had with Mark, or that I’d broken it off with Cora.
“Yeah...well...ahem...actually...it’s over. Done.”
“What!”
“Oh, dear!”
“Sorry to hear that.”
The responses around the table came rapid-fire, and then an awkward silence enveloped the room.
“Mommy, what’s ‘inspired’ mean?” Gabby looked across the table at her mother.
Grace replied, “It means to encourage, honey. Dixon’s friend told him he’d be good at his projects, and believed other people would like them, too.” She nudged the last piece of pie onto her fork. “And she was right.” She swallowed the bite. “So, what happened between you two, anyway? I thought everything was going really good.”
“Well, everything was going well. Much better than I could have ever imagined. Cora is the full package...I mean, she’s funny, smart, can joke around but not taken any of my sh—” I caught the wide eyes around the table. “I mean, she knows how to keep me in line.”
“Like when Mommy gives me her Mommy look?” Gabby asked. “Like when I’m being cranky and dis-disspectful?”
“Disrespectful. Yes. Like that.” I smiled at the little girl’s words. How Grace ever disciplined such a sweetie—cranky or not—was beyond me. But Ryan’s next words swiped the smile off my face.
“Dude, you need to get back together with her. Beg, if you have to. ’Cause I sure ain’t going to put up with you mooning over losing her. That one week after you first met her was bad enough. Can’t imagine what you’ll be like without her around. So fix whatever stupid thing you did and get on your knees, and ask for forgiveness.”
Grace nodded, and Gabby clapped.
“Yeah. My teacher always says to say sorry when I step on Marcie’s toes, and she always forgives me. Just say you’re sorry.”
If it were only as simple as saying sorry to Cora. But it wasn’t. I was sorry, but mostly because I wasn’t the one who could make her dreams come true. Mark was the one with the power to do that. She’d have the life she’d always wanted: the big house, the chance to run the B&B, money, a family. That last one might have been a new dream of mine, but I couldn’t see it happening with anyone but Cora.
“Dear, I am sure this is just a bump in the road for you two. Ryan has told us how much happier you are since you met Cora. Even George noticed you’ve been more helpful on the construction sites, asking more questions. And starting this new business is a step into your future. If you really care about her, you must do what you can to address the situation.” Wilma put in her two cents. “Nothing is impossible where love is involved.” She smiled over at her husband and held out her hand to him. “You’d be surprised at what can be forgiven. The heart wants what the heart wants, after all.”
Greg kissed his wife’s hand. “Yes, the heart is a powerhouse when it knows what it wants.” He redirected his attention to me. “So, what is this insurmountable problem? Why did she break up with you?”
It was no surprise they’d all think she broke up with me. After all, even Ryan’s first words to me about Cora was that she was out of my league, before he’d even known anything about her.
“Well, I was the one to call things off. It’s the best for Cora, believe me. There’s this guy her father wants her to marry, and he can give her everything I can’t. The right life. The right house. The right career. The best of everything.” I tapped the fork against the empty plate. “Compared to this guy, I’m the bottom of the barrel.” I dropped the fork.
“That’s not true, Dixon.” This time, Grace laid her fork down before she stared straight at me. “You have plenty to offer. You’re honest. A good friend.” She looked over at Ryan before looking back to me. “Someone people can depend on. If you really love Cora, and she really loves you, no amount of money—or the lack of money—will change that. Happiness is with the people you love, not the balance in your bank account. I haven’t met Cora, but Ryan’s told me how nice she is.”
I couldn’t tell for sure, but there almost seemed to be a twinge of jealousy in her words. But Ryan’s next ones had me paying attention.
“Cora wasn’t just some notch on your bedpost, buddy. I’ve never seen you happier, or at ease with yourself. You told me once you could be your best self with Cora, and I’ve seen it happening. Doesn’t matter about this other guy...you are the one for her, and she’s the one for you. You need to talk to her and tell her what an idiot you were for pushing her away and into that dude’s arms. Tell her you were momentarily out of your mind and you didn’t mean it.”
Greg put his hand on my arm. “Son, Ryan’s right. If Cora is the one to bring out the best in you, even if you pushed her into this other man’s direction with the best of intentions, it’s likely you’ll end up regretting it. Go fight for her. Show her—show yourself—that you’ve got it in you to be the man she needs. Do whatever it takes.”
I began to rethink—not for the first time—my hasty decision and conversation with Cora. Shit. I’d truly fucked it up.