The What If Guy Page 4

They giggled more.

  I pointed my bloody finger at them. “Don’t repeat that. It’s a bad word. I made a bad choice in choosing to use that word. What I meant was—”

  A girl with braces grinned smartly. “You’re sorry for breaking Mr. Tobler’s nose?”

  “Yes.” I pressed my lips together tightly.

  The braces girl said, “Want me to go get the nurse, Mr. T?”

  Henry whirled around with a softball-sized wad of tissue pressed against his nose, drops of blood trailing down the front of his shirt. “My node id not broken.” His voice was muffled by the tissue, and I winced. “I broke id playing Frisbee in college. When I get hit in the nose now, id bleeds. I don’t need the nurse.”

  “Frisbee?” The boy sitting next to Elliott frowned.

  Henry glared at me from behind the bloody wad. “Id was extreme Frisbee.”

  Elliott caught my eye and mouthed the words, Please leave now.

  “I… I should go.” I wiped my hands on my jeans and walked toward the door. “Unless there’s something I can do?”

  “No,” Henry said, “just go.”

  I was pretty sure that every one of Elliott’s classmates thought I was clinically insane by the time I finally left their classroom. I bolted to the parking lot as quickly as my legs could take me.

  I’d just seen my “what if” guy for the first time in thirteen years. I’d busted his nose with an encyclopedia and made him bleed profusely in front of a classroom of twenty twelve-year-olds.

  I wanted to die.

  Chapter Three

  My hands shook as I drove the six miles of country roads back to Fairfield. Spatters of Henry’s blood stained the front of my T-shirt, and every time I looked at the splotches of red on the white cotton, my throat closed and I nearly gagged. Not out of repulsion, but utter embarrassment.

  I’d just clocked Henry Tobler in the face with an encyclopedia.

  Just thinking about it made me cry. I whizzed past the Welcome to Fairfield sign and wiped my eyes on the hem of my shirt. I needed a friend. When we’d lived in Seattle, I’d spent ninety-nine percent of my time with Elliott. I didn’t have close friends that I could turn to now that I’d experienced a nightmare out here in the middle of the sticks.

  My encounter with Holly at Fisk’s Fine Foods flitted through my mind, and I glanced at an almost-forgotten plate of homemade cookies that I had put on the back seat. Seeing Holly had made me realize how much I’d missed her over the years. I remembered the two of us giggling, making prank calls while my father slept. The nights we snuck out to meet Cody and his friends to go night fishing. All of those unanswered phone calls when Holly had tried to reach me before her wedding. The way her voice had shuddered as she’d cried into my answering machine.

  My stomach churned with guilt and regret.

  I’d never found a replacement for Holly in Seattle—never even tried. I’d simply learned to live without my best friend.

  Karma can be a real bitch sometimes, because now my life had changed. I was no longer the gallery director from Seattle’s ultra-hip Pioneer Square neighborhood, a woman who could pretend she didn’t need a close confidant. I was an unemployed, single mother living with my father in a little red house with peeling paint. I wanted my old friend back, and hoped she would forgive me.

  So I’d made her some cookies. A batch of “apology cookies” wrapped in cellophane and tied with a strand of ribbon. I’d planned to take them to her after getting Elliott settled in school. Who’d known I would be in such a state?

  I shifted my blurry focus back to driving. Houses lined the streets of Fairfield, looking much the same as I recalled—some cute and cozy with shutters and flower beds, others begging for fresh paint and new front steps. Most homes had a car or two parked out front, with the occasional broken-down, rusted beater surrounded by tall grass. I couldn’t help smiling at the sight of pumpkins and bundles of dried, golden cornstalks on front porches. The aroma of cut wheat fields and smoke coming from chimneys floated on the wind that blew in from the prairies.

  I calmed a bit during the drive, but when I arrived at Holly’s house, an abrupt case of nerves overtook me. I sat in my car for a good three minutes, carefully planning my words.

  Hi, Holly. I was in the neighborhood and thought I would stop in…

  Oh, good grief. It didn’t matter what I said. Holly was smart. She’d know that these were ass-kissing cookies. I seriously considered hightailing it out of Holly’s driveway before anyone spotted me. I reached for the gearshift. A little boy popped his blond head up next to my window, his hands slamming on the car with a thud. He pressed his boogery nose against the half-open glass.

  I gasped. “Holy shit.”

  “You thaid a thwear. I’m telling.” The little monster sprinted into the house, his Superman cape billowing behind him.

  “Great.” Now I couldn’t leave. I’d been outed by a four-year-old superhero—saving the planet from foul language. I grabbed the plate of cookies from the back seat and opened my door. I walked up to the tired-looking front porch, stepping around scattered balls and skateboards, and Holly emerged from the house.

  “Autumn?”

  I sensed my cheeks going scarlet, again. Curse my hideously pale skin. “Hi,” I said, too loudly. “I…um…I made you some cookies.” I held up the plate and smiled. “But you’re probably busy, so I’ll just leave them and go. Sorry to bother you.”

  Holly frowned. “Have you been crying?”

  I gestured at my puffy face. “Oh that. Not really.”

  Holly tilted her head. “Are those your haystack cookies?”

  I let out the huge breath that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “Yes. I’m surprised you remember.”

  “How could I forget?” She smiled and beckoned me forward. “Every time you made these, your dad ate so many he got sick.”

  She remembered. Warmth spread in my chest. “That’s right, I—”

  The screen door swung open behind Holly, landing with a smack against the outside of the house. The little, blond superhero swaggered outside, scowling. “That’th her, Mama. The’s the one who thaid a thwear.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Holly said. “This is Tanner. He’s four.”

  I smiled. “I brought cookies.”

  “Jethus doethn’t like it when you thwear.” He stared at me gravely.

  Holly put her hand over Tanner’s mouth. She winked, then held the door open. “Come eat a cookie with me.”

  Following Holly inside, I realized how different our lives had become. Holly’s house overflowed with toys, and several walls were almost completely covered with children’s schoolwork, finger paintings, and photographs. A troop of blond-haired children watched a Disney movie on a television in the living room.

  “Mommy, I want thome cookies.” Tanner grabbed for the plate.

  Holly raised it high above her head. “Oh no, you don’t. You just had breakfast. These are for Mommy and her friend. Be gone with you.” She led me into the kitchen and pulled out a kitchen chair. “Brush off the crumbs, and sit down.”

  “Thanks.”

  Holly unwrapped the cookies, then plopped down on a chair.

  I plucked one of the cookies off the plate. “You look tired. It was rude of me to drop in unannounced. I’m sorry.”

  Holly waved her hand. “It’s got nothing to do with you. I’m pregnant again.”

  I nearly choked on my cookie. “Pregnant? Again?”

  “We just found out.” She smiled weakly.

  Six kids? Are you out of your mind?

  I feigned excitement. “Congratulations.”

  I looked at the wall, where someone’s little fingers had painted with what looked like spaghetti sauce. Sweat tingled on my forehead. I couldn’t imagine life with such a brood. Was it normal to feel nauseated, even though I wasn’t the one expecting?

  “Tabitha wants a sister so badly,” Holly mused. “We’ve got plenty of room out here on the farm, too. I just wish I didn’t
get so sick.”

  I bit my lip. I’d missed the births of all of her children. I wanted to help, even though the thought of being alone with five children made me light-headed. “I’m here. I can help anytime.”

  Holly nodded. “That’s sweet. Thanks. So, what brings you here? Bearing cookies, no less?”

  “I just…” The words backed up in my throat. I drew a deliberate breath.

  Holly watched me with pointed curiosity.

  My heart raced. “I owe you an apology. You were my best friend, better than family to me. I abandoned you and hurt you, I’m sure. I regret the mess I’ve made. I’m so sorry.”

  She blinked her eyes several times. I thought she might be considering cussing me out. Instead, she smiled and said, “Thank you, Autumn. I really appreciate that.”

  My heartbeat slowed. “I’m so glad that you and Cody are happy. Look at you, you’ve got beautiful kids and a huge house.”

  “Yeah, it’s great, isn’t it?” She fiddled with her wedding bands. “Eventually, Cody wants to put a pool out back, and he’s going to build me a greenhouse next summer. We were so excited when we took over the farm and inherited this land. It’s got so many possibilities.”

  “So, you stay home with the kids?” I took another bite of my cookie, and admired a still-damp finger painting lying at the other end of the table. When Holly and I were kids, the guidance counselor had asked us what we wanted to do when we grew up. I’d said that I would become a famous artist. Holly’s answer had been simpler. She’d wanted to be a mom.

  “Yup,” Holly said. “I run the co-op preschool, and we have a mommy-and-me play group that meets every Tuesday in the park. You should come sometime. Jamie, Kate, and Veronica will be there.”

  My stomach dropped as Holly named some of the girls we’d grown up with. I’d lost touch with all of my old friends and had been too arrogant to visit, or even call or email, over the years. So many connections lost, and so many friends I’d hurt. “I don’t know,” I said self-consciously. “It’s been so long since I last saw everyone. Plus, Elliott’s too old for a play group.”

  “Come on. You can be my guest.” Holly squeezed my hand. “I told Cody you were back, and he can’t wait to see you.”

  “Really? I’m surprised he doesn’t hate me.”

  “Why would he hate you? You’re the one who fixed him up with me.”

  Cody had offered me biology tutoring in exchange for the chance to date my best friend, I remembered with a smile. “I guess he does sort of owe me, huh?”

  We laughed.

  I dabbed my weepy eyes with a napkin.

  She looked at me closely. “Why were you crying?”

  My chest tightened. “It’s nothing.”

  “Please.” Holly gave me a stern look. “You might have been gone for a while, but I still know you. You’ve been crying.”

  I sighed. “I saw somebody today.”

  “Who?”

  I grabbed another cookie and took a large bite. “Nobody.”

  “Come on. What’s wrong?” She asked, her words gentle and prodding. She probably used the same tone to encourage her toddlers to use the potty.

  “I saw someone from my past at Elliott’s school today.”

  “At the Palouse Plains? Who?”

  I imagined Henry’s soulful eyes. “My college boyfriend.”

  “What? Who?”

  My voice quavered. “Henry Tobler.”

  “The art history guy?”

  I nodded pitifully.

  “Wait. Elliott’s dad is Mr. T?” Her eyes were as big as golf balls. She grabbed a cookie and nibbled.

  My stomach knotted. Holly probably didn’t remember Cliff. I’d hardly mentioned him to Holly, except to tell her that I’d considered going into the witness relocation program because I’d spent a couple of nights with a loser bartender. Holly had him mixed up with my Henry—the sweet, thoughtful man who’d loved me for the most blissful eight weeks, two days, and four-and-a-half hours of my life.

  “No, things didn’t work out between me and Henry. Elliott’s father is named Cliff.” I grabbed another cookie, the chocolate tempering my discomfort. “He was the bartender I dated before Henry.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I remember hearing about him. That was while you were on your wild streak, right?”

  “Something like that.”

  “So, after Henry, you fell back in love with Cliff?” She pronounced the name slowly.

  “Not exactly.” I swallowed hard. “I didn’t have a guy like Cody in my life. Not everyone meets the person they want to marry in the tenth grade.”

  Holly reached for another cookie. “These are the only things that have tasted good in weeks. And I think I can keep them down. I’m so glad you brought them over. Go on.”

  “I stopped seeing Cliff after our third or fourth date. I didn’t like him much, anyway. He was always checking himself out in the mirror—and getting high. A complete tool.” I shifted in my chair.

  She popped another bite into her mouth. “If you loved Henry, why the heck did you have a kid with a dufus like Cliff?”

  I shook my head. “I’ve asked myself that at least a bazillion times. I mean, things happen for a reason, because now I’ve got Elliott, and he’s the best kid a mom could want. I love my life with my son.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “I met Henry a few days after I stopped returning Cliff’s calls.” Henry’s face blossomed like a flower in my memory. “He invited me to a concert and took me to dinner before the show. We wound up missing the whole concert. We sat in a café for six hours, talking about everything—art, places we wanted to go, books we loved, our favorite cartoons when we were kids.”

  My cheeks flushed as I recalled our amazing time together. Just the thought of Henry could bring on a warm fuzzy. “The day after our first date, he sent an arrangement of daisies and blue bachelor buttons to my dorm, because I’d mentioned that they grew wild and beautiful here in Fairfield. We spent all our free time together after that—going to galleries, listening to bands, laughing. His passion for art inspired me. And he had this wonderful way of listening—really listening—like everything I said interested him.”

  Holly’s smile turned naughty. “Was he, you know, good in bed?”

  “We never slept together.”

  Holly looked at me strangely, and I cleared my throat. “I mean, we were heading there.” My voice grew wistful. “We were pretty hot for each other. We’d make out between classes, and he’d walk into the lecture hall with his collar all messed up.

  “I always rushed into things, but Henry was different. He moved slowly. Said that we were more than a fling, and we needed to make it special. He was going to take me to Orcas Island for the ’special’ weekend. We thought we had time.”

  “What happened?”

  I grimaced. “I thought I had the flu. My roommate suggested I take a pregnancy test, and it came out positive. My whole world stopped. I couldn’t have an abortion, but I had no idea how I would manage being a mother and a student. All I could think about was how I was going to face my father—pregnant and unwed. I didn’t want to let him down. Sure, he’s a screw-up, but I didn’t want to disappoint him.”

  Holly grasped my arm. “You must have been terrified. What did you do?”

  “I told Henry first. He was crushed—I saw it in his eyes. We were so in love. I’ve never felt so horrible. So, I just apologized and ran away.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You left?”

  I nodded. “He tried to stop me, but I got on the nearest bus and went home. He called me for weeks, but I had my roommate tell him I wasn’t available. I dropped his class and avoided him all over campus. It was too hard to face him. I was so unhappy, and so ashamed of myself.” I gave her the Reader’s Digest version of what had happened with Cliff.

  Holly’s gaze alternated between my face and my blood-stained T-shirt. “So, whose blood is that?”

  Emotion weighed on my shoulders l
ike cinderblocks. “I hit Henry in the face with an encyclopedia this morning.” I told her about our encounter in his classroom.

  A bubble of laughter escaped Holly’s lips and she quickly covered her mouth. “Sorry. I just…well, wow. Some reunion.”

  “I know. This is bad. Really bad. I managed to humiliate myself and my twelve-year-old son on his first day in a new school where he already looked and felt like a complete outsider. Oh, and I bloodied the love of my life.” I groaned and rested my head on the cool tabletop in mock horror. “All that, and I haven’t even showered yet. I’ve had a very busy morning.”

  “Autumn, calm down.” Holly’s voice lilted with laughter.

  I remembered Elliott sitting at his desk with his head down. My heart lurched. “Elliott hates me. If he doesn’t, he should. I was acting drunk.”

  “I’ve embarrassed my kids plenty of times, and they don’t hate me. Just last year, my water broke at Tabitha’s Christmas pageant. She still hasn’t forgiven me. But she doesn’t hate me.” She laughed, and brushed her hair back from her face. “Stop beating yourself up. You were surprised to see Henry.”

  “That’s the truth. I haven’t laid eyes on Henry Tobler since the day we broke up.”

  “How did he look?” Holly asked.

  I sat up, releasing a long, drawn-out sigh.

  She chuckled. “That good, huh?”

  “It’s not fair. Why do men age so well? The years are creeping up on me quickly, but Henry looked like he could’ve stepped out of a page of a J. Crew catalogue.”

  “I don’t understand that, either. Sometimes Cody comes in after spending the day in the combine, and he looks like he belongs in a movie. All dirty, gritty, and sweaty.” She chewed thoughtfully. “You do realize that this is a sign, right?”

  I shook my head. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That means you’re still a size two, you don’t have any gray hair, and you still believe in fate, karma, and all of that nonsense.”

  “I can’t help it if I’m a hopeless romantic. Don’t hate me because I’m right.”

  “You’re not right. Sorry.”