Page 23 of Chocolate Cherry Cabin

“Are you going to look into becoming a teacher?” he asked.

Her tone was exasperated as she marched toward the doors. “Why can’t you understand that I’m fine working in a day care?”

“Because you’re not.”

“Haven’t you been listening?”

“I have. Haven’t you?”

“To you?”

“No, to yourself.”

“What?”

“You’re a convincing liar,” he said gently.

She gasped with indignation, whirling to face him. “I amnotlying. To you or myself or anyone else.” Her expression turned dark. “I like working there, and I am not being complaisant like you think I am.”

He took a steadying breath, considering momentarily if this was the time to stop talking.

“Fine,” he said, as she returned to her marching. “But it’s not enough.”

“It is!”

“Say it ‘They don’t pay me enough.’”

“Why? Why do you care if my life isn’t perfect?”

He caught up with her at the doors, where she had a hand resting above the switches, ready to turn out the lights.

“Don’t be afraid to change your life.”

Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked them away, then hit the switches, plunging them into darkness. “I’m not afraid of change.”

She opened the door and daylight blinded him from seeing anything other than how she was silhouetted in the doorway—all curvy mom. She was beautiful.

“We just got settled here after a move from the city, separate houses, separate cars, the boys moving between two homes, me in a new job.”

“That’s a lot of change.” He joined her in the doorway.

She cleared her throat. “Cassandra and Athena have things to do, so if you’re done pretending you know how to tune a piano, can we go and relieve my babysitters?”

Louis nodded slowly, moving toward his truck, one eye on her.

“You know, not everyone wants to waltz off on adventures, with no cares or responsibilities,” she said, her tone a bit preachy as she climbed in the passenger side. “Maybe some of us enjoy having a stable life and don’t need more. We don’t need to disrupt our lives due to some insatiable thirst for action and excitement. Maybe I just need a job, and a home and movie night with my kids. Maybe that’s the important stuff.” She fastened her seat belt and locked eyes on Louis. “You know—family.”

He could feel Hannah’s judgment washing over him, seeping between the cracks. She did have a good life, full of meaning. Who was he to tell her it wasn’t important or enough for her?

He looked away. “You’re right.”

That hollow feeling he usually experienced when he parted ways with Hannah arrived earlier this time, and he focused on starting his truck, driving her home.

“I do know what it’s like to have responsibilities,” he said quietly, when they turned onto Cherry Lane. “And to have someone depending on you.”

Her tone was filled with surprise. “You have kids?”

He gripped the steering wheel, doubting himself. “My mom was sick when I was in high school. I went home at lunch to cook and eat with her before coming back to school again.”

---