A Regular Joe. Jennifer Drew

outbuildings. A young couple was cozied up on the porch swing, watching contentedly while their children played on the lawn.

      Joe stood there, motionless, feeling himself drawn into the circle of the loving, close-knit family he’d never had—and probably never would if he remained on this same course in his corporate world. He felt as if he was falling into the artist’s unspoken dream of a simple life, surrounded by a caring family.

      Suddenly Joe wanted to be there, sitting on the swing, watching his children, cuddling up with his wife. He wanted it all—the good life—not the executive suite, surrounded by yes-men and -woman who kept telling him what they thought he wanted to hear. He wanted honesty, true friendships, the opportunity to create with his hands as Mattie did. Love. He wanted that most of all. To love and be loved. To matter, to be wanted and needed. To make a difference…

      Feelings, deep and intense and sentimental, bombarded him with the force of tornadic winds. He staggered, realizing how empty and materialistic his life had become. Mattie’s life was full, and complex, because of her dedication to customers, friends and to Pops. Yet, he realized that on some level this painting depicted what Mattie needed to complete her life. She filled her time with substitutes for love, but this painting was her elusive dream.

      “Joe, the hot chocolate is ready.”

      He pivoted to see her smiling at him, and he just couldn’t bear to be alone with her until he pulled himself together, got these spinning emotions under control. If he didn’t leave now, the feelings squeezing at his heart, and this abrupt sense of desperation, were going to overpower him. He might do something stupid—like appease the sense of vulnerability that had overcome him by seducing Mattie, right here, right this minute. He just couldn’t do that to her, not after he promised he would give her time to make her choice.

      “I gotta go,” he said as he whizzed past her, refusing to glance at her.

      “Joe? What’s wrong?” she called as he made fast tracks toward the front door. “Are you feeling okay?”

      “No, definitely not.” He was feeling too much, too fast, too intensely…and it scared the hell out of him. He had to sit himself down and think. He would go to his apartment, park himself in front of that gigantic mural of towering pines and sky-scraping mountains, and stare at them until he pulled himself together.

      “Joe?”

      Mattie’s shoulders slumped when the door closed on his heels. Damn, he’d been in a strange mood. Curious, Mattie retraced her steps to the bedroom and stood where he’d stood, peering at the painting of an old homestead and family. Is that what had shaken him up?

      “Why on earth…?” Mattie’s voice evaporated when she remembered what had compelled her to paint this picture. This was the family she decided she was never going to have, after she gave up on meeting the man of her dreams, a man who shared her need and desire for a loving family, shared her appreciation for art and crafts.

      Had this painting reminded Joe of what he didn’t have?

      Mattie couldn’t answer that question, because Joe had only confided bits and pieces of his past to her. Oh yes, he told her that his parents had taken off, much as hers had. Told her that his grandparents had raised him. But she didn’t know where he’d worked during the years in between. Didn’t know who had come and gone and influenced his life. Obviously something was bothering him, something he hadn’t confided in her.

      “Give it up, Mattie. Dr. Freud you’re not,” she told herself as she ambled to the living room to sip the two cups of hot chocolate. “This is your life, and you liked it well enough until Joe showed up. Just be thankful for what you have and don’t dwell on what you don’t have.”

      Having given herself that sound advice, Mattie flicked on the TV news broadcast and lounged in her chair.

      There was no sense wasting time trying to figure out Joe, when she couldn’t even diagnose what caused this restless, edgy feeling that was thrumming through her. Must be the caffeine in two cups of cocoa, she tried to convince herself. But deep down, Mattie had the unshakable feeling that the affliction ailing her went by the name of Joe Gray. She was becoming emotionally involved with him, whether that was a good idea or not. She sensed that he was only going to be a temporary resident in Fox Hollow, considering what he’d told her tonight. If she let herself fall in love with the man she would get her naive heart broken.

      Take a few risks, Shortcake. You’ll always regret the opportunities missed.

      Mattie vaulted to her feet, shut off the TV, the lights, then went to bed. The last thing she needed right now was Pops’s devil-may-care philosophies spinning in her head. What she needed most of all was a good night’s sleep.