Good Intentions
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About this ebook
At seven, Maggie Miller survived an accident that killed her mother and brother. At twenty-four, she fell in love for the first time. At twenty-five, she realized she was pregnant, and he was gone.
Seven years later, Maggie is still living her life for everyone else. For her father, her children, and the legacy of her mother and brother. She's doing it all for everyone but herself.
When her son's father discovers the secret she's been keeping, she must come face to face with the dream she's been holding onto for all these years. It's time for Maggie to realize that what's best for everyone else may not be what's best for her, and no matter the intentions, it's time to be true to herself.
Kathryn R. Biel
Telling stories of resilient women, Kathryn R. Biel hails from Upstate New York where her most important role is being mom and wife to an incredibly understanding family who don't mind fetching coffee and living in a dusty house. In addition to being Chief Home Officer and Director of Child Development of the Biel household, she works as a school-based physical therapist. She attended Boston University and received her Doctorate in Physical Therapy from The Sage Colleges. After years of writing countless letters of medical necessity for wheelchairs, finding increasingly creative ways to encourage insurance companies to fund her client's needs, and writing entertaining annual Christmas letters, she decided to take a shot at writing the kind of novel that she likes to read. Kathryn is the author of ten women's fiction, romantic comedy, contemporary romance, and chick lit works, including Live for This and Made for Me. Please follow Kathryn on her website, www.kathrynrbiel.com and sign up for her newsletter at bit.ly/KRBNews.
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Reviews for Good Intentions
3 ratings1 review
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5I wasn't sure about this book at first. It was kind of slow in the beginning and I wasn't sure I liked the main character. She had zero self esteem. The more I read, though, the more I found myself really enjoying the book. It was a great story and a quick read. I would definitely read more from this author.
Book preview
Good Intentions - Kathryn R. Biel
By
KATHRYN R. BIEL
©Copyright 2013. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
ISBN: 0615833373
ISBN-13: 978-0615833378
DEDICATION
This book would not have been written without the love and support of many people. I need to first and foremost include, my husband, Patrick, who did not laugh when I told him that I wanted to write a book and to my parents, Philip and Mary Rose Kopach, who in addition to years of love and support, watched my children on Sunday afternoons so that I could write instead of clean my house.
I need to thank my best friend, and the mayor of Kate-ville, Michele Vagianelis, who read the book, also without laughing, insisted she was included in it, offered up some really good material, and has listened to me throughout the whole process.
To my original crew, Christine, Devany, Gabriela, and Becky, who provided the original inspiration for the setting in the first place.
Table of Contents
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One: September 2000
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven: January 2001
Chapter Twelve: April 2008
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen: Fall 2008
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One: January 2009
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three: Summer 2009
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five: November 2009
Chapter Twenty-Six
Acknowledgments
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
September 2000
Remind me again why I’m doing this.
That’s what I muttered to myself as I stood on my step stool, leaning over my too-tall, hand-me-down bureau to apply my makeup. In contrast to my college days, which seemed like a lifetime ago rather than a few months in the past, I now hated going out on Friday nights. Instead, I wanted to veg. My first month at work had flown by, but the four weeks under my belt hadn't helped me get my paperwork done any faster on the one night I wanted to leave on time.
That's the way it always goes, isn't it?
So here I was, running around like a chicken with my head cut off, trying to make myself presentable for this stupid night. Everything about it irked me. The fact that I didn't get to come home from work and relax. The fact that I had to shower twice in one day. The fact that I even bothered to shave. All it did was eat up precious time. Time I needed to pull myself together. I don't know why I even bothered. It’s not like anyone would be feeling my legs tonight, but I would wear a dress and feel pretty. That never happened with my khakis and polo and sneakers at work.
Yes, a dress was a must.
At least my hair was low maintenance. My pixie cut meant it basically had one style. I could not figure out why I was going this extra mile. The music blasting through my CD player did little to boost my energy.
Okay, it helped a little.
Anything to make me feel better about being set up on a sort of blind date. I searched my memory for the times I'd met Ryan, who was to be my companion for the evening. He was my best friend’s best friend. So it wasn’t actually a setup or a blind date. There was no reason to be nervous.
Or to shave.
Yet, both had happened.
I had insisted to Matt that I didn’t need Ryan to pick me up, or whatever you call it when you're walking, and that I could just meet the three of them at the cute Italian restaurant in Allston. It didn't make sense for Ryan to walk past Ruggerio's to get to my place. But as usual, I lost out to Matt’s argument. One of these days, I'd stand up for myself and mean it.
It had been a while since I had seen Ryan. He would periodically come out from Ohio to visit Matt. Was last fall the last time he was here? Time's a blur.
Matt had gone back to Ohio for our final clinical in the spring, so it had to have been at least a year. Try as I might, I couldn't quite conjure up details of Ryan's face or physique.
I guess I had never seen him as date material. Since he was Matt’s friend, it was kind of a weird situation, like dating your brother’s best friend, or something equally as icky. Needless to say, I hadn’t wanted to do this tonight. Or any night.
Dinner tonight would be a splurge, delaying my plan for phasing out my hand-me-downs and bargain-basement finds. Like the shoes I was currently wearing. Though there was something about the red patent leather stilettos that I loved. I hoped the food would be worth the sacrifice. Matt laughed at my frugality, but I tried to stick to my guns. He simply couldn't understand where I was coming from in many matters, from finances to dating.
This evening, much to my surprise, was a result of the relentless determination of Matt’s girlfriend, Irene. Generally, she barely tolerated my presence. The feeling was more or less mutual, and I usually avoided spending one-on-one time with her. Which was my code for I think she's a complete and total bitch.
But here I was, getting ready for a nice, cozy, intimate dinner. I wasn’t sure if I should be thankful or suspicious. Right now the only thing I felt was tired. But as time ticked on, that feeling was slowly replaced by butterflies.
The buzzer rang, startling me from my daydream. I grabbed my purse and half-stumbled to the door as I pressed the button and yelled, Be right down.
I straightened up and smoothed my dress one last time and put my cardigan on. It had been a while since I had been out on a date, let alone a date with an audience.
A judgmental audience.
It would be fine. It was no big deal. It wasn’t really a date anyway. Just a group of friends going out to celebrate life in the real world with real-world jobs.
If Ryan hadn’t come to get me, it wouldn’t feel like a date, and I wouldn’t be running around like a fart in a mitten, all nervous.
The time to suck it up and pull myself together was here. I locked my apartment door behind me and headed downstairs, making it down the first segment without incident. As I descended the bottom set, my attention shifted to the person standing in the foyer. I bent forward to get a better look and my ankle twisted. I slid down three steps with my right ankle bent under me. My skirt rode up, and all I could think about was feeling grateful that I was wearing nice underwear.
It was probably a good thing I shaved.
I righted myself at the bottom of the stairs and looked up, horrified, all while scrambling to pull my skirt down. There Ryan stood, grinning at me. I returned his smile as I did a little curtsey. I tried to take a breath as I opened the glass door and said, And now, for my next act …
Ryan laughed and said, I thought we’d get a drink first. I didn’t realize you would have a head start.
Heat flamed my cheeks. I guess you can dress me up, but you can’t take me anywhere.
Ryan’s ebony eyes smiled. He was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. He belonged on the cover of a magazine. How could I not remember him? His voice was smooth as he said, Looking like that, I’d take you anywhere. How long has it been, Maggie?
He pulled me toward him.
At least a year, I think. Maybe? I dunno.
I said, giving him an awkward hug. Wow, he smelled good, like sandalwood and citrus.
Yeah, I think it was some tailgate party. Good game. You okay?
he asked glancing at my feet. His arms were still around my waist.
Fine. Let’s get going,
I said, breaking free and pushing through the outside door. I couldn’t meet his gaze. I felt like such an ass. I blew the evening before it even started. We walked down the outside steps of the building and turned left, heading towards the main street. The restaurant was only a few blocks away, and I was glad. My red stilettos were not exactly walking shoes. But they were fabulous and completed the look. My ankle throbbed a little. I tried not to limp.
You settled in yet?
I asked, finally breaking the silence that had stretched at least a block
Getting there. Boston is so different from Ohio. Lots to get used to. I guess working is a lot to get used to, too. Just glad that Matt is letting me crash with him for a while. It’s good to hang out with him again. Didn’t see enough of that kid while we were in school.
Yeah, I know he missed you. Not that he’d say as much. You know how emotional he can get though, crying all the time and stuff. Kissing your picture, holding his pillow.
Ryan chuckled. That's Matt to a T.
We arrived at the restaurant, still laughing at our mutual friend’s expense. Ryan opened the door for me. I turned to him as I walked by and asked him if he thought Matt and Irene were here yet. As I did, Ryan and I collided. It was like hitting a solid wall. All muscle underneath. Wow. I inhaled and sucked in my stomach, trying to appear as thin as possible as his hand reached around my waist to steady me. He kept his hand around my waist as he guided me into the restaurant. Obviously, he realized that I wasn’t even capable of walking properly. Ugh.
And yes, Matt and Irene were already there, sitting close to each other. I took another breath and sat down in my chair. Ugh again.
Already on the table was a bottle of cheap champagne. It was a celebratory dinner after all. The four of us now held our advanced degrees, with piles of student loans, but had paychecks coming in to pay for them. We had entered the world of the working-class stiff.
Irene had landed a job at a public school in Brookline. How she would teach kids was beyond me. Matt and I had passed our physical therapy boards and had been employed. Matt was working at a sports medicine clinic downtown, and while I was working at a pediatric clinic. Ryan, most impressively, had finished law school and had landed a very prestigious job in the Suffolk County DA’s office.
And this dinner would be perfect, with my stunningly gorgeous date, if I hadn't already blown it the moment I slid down the stairs and then plowed into him walking into the restaurant. At least I managed to eat without dropping food down the front of me, which was probably a first for me.
Irene was very pleasant and her typical digs and potshots were surprisingly absent. Instead, she went out of her way to compliment me on my shoes. They make your legs look fabulous!
she gushed. I thought I detected an element of surprise in her voice as if she thought I had tree stumps under my jeans or khakis.
Of course, Ryan looked down at my legs. I crossed them and drew them underneath the chair. And I blushed. And again mentally phewed that I'd shaved.
Suddenly, I was very nervous. Guys like him didn't date girls like me. He was so gorgeous, and it was almost difficult to function around him. I knew I better enjoy it while it lasted, which in my estimate, was probably about fifteen more minutes.
After our dishes had been cleared, Irene and I went to the restroom. Despite the uneasy feelings between us, we stuck to the girls go to the bathroom in pairs
creed. Irene looked stunning in a sleek little black dress. Of course, she looked stunning in a burlap sack. Her hair, as always, was shampoo-commercial sleek and shiny, while shine dared not to cross her flawless complexion.
While touching up our make-up, Irene commented, Ryan cleans up well, doesn’t he?
I smiled, thinking that he would look great dirty too. But that smile of his bit right to my core. I’m kind of blinded by his stunning white teeth. How long is he crashing with Matt for?
Irene grimaced. Too long.
Her bitter tone betrayed her otherwise smooth exterior. Ryan's crashing at Matt's meant that Irene wouldn't be able to move in any time soon. She flashed a dazzling smile at me. Unless he can find a reason to move on …
Everything clicked into place. The reason for the dinner—and the compliments—now made sense. Pairing Ryan and I up would kill two birds with one stone. I wouldn't be a threat to her and Matt, not that I ever was, and she'd be able to move into Matt's place. Maybe it was the wine; maybe it was the fear of flying solo. Whatever it was, I couldn’t help but wish that her plan was successful. I shook my head at myself and dropped my lip gloss back into my purse.
When we got back to the table, the guys were just finishing paying the bill. I'd had no expectation Ryan would pay for me. I looked at him and cocked my head to the side. As I sat down, I leaned over to whisper into his ear. Thanks, you shouldn’t have done that.
He winked at me. You can pay me later.
The wine upped my flirting game. I raised my eyebrow. Oh really?
He flashed that dazzling grin, Yeah, I pulled a muscle in my low back moving my stuff into Matt’s, and I heard you might be able to work it out for me.
I grinned back, biting my lower lip and angelically shrugging my shoulders, Well, backs are Matt’s specialty, not mine. Maybe he can give you a little rub down later. I can’t help you if you're over four feet tall.
At that moment, Matt and Irene stood up. I didn’t want dinner to be over. My liquid courage was just kicking in, and I was just feeling relaxed enough to enjoy Ryan’s company without feeling insignificant and plain. It was only eleven p.m., early by Boston nightlife standards. Suddenly I was no longer tired. There was a chill in the air. Fall was here. I involuntarily shivered and crossed my arms, my cardigan doing little to warm me.
Irene turned to Matt and said in a saccharine voice, Honey, that rigatoni isn’t sitting so well. I want to go home ... now.
She tapped her foot impatiently. I looked at Ryan and then at Matt. It appeared as if our evening was over because she said so.
Well, I guess I’ll see you guys later then. Ryan, good luck with the new job this week. Lemme know how it goes.
I turned around to walk home, trying to hold my head up high while not letting my shoulders slump in defeat.
Ryan's hand shot out and grabbed my elbow, stopping me and pulling me back and around. Of course, I stumbled a little and fell into him again. At least this time I could blame the wine. Where do you think you’re going? They might be headed home, but our night is just beginning.
He smiled again, and I felt weak in the knees.
Matt shifted and said quietly to Irene, Are you sure you’re not up for getting one drink? It's Ryan’s first time out since he officially moved here.
Irene gave him a cold look. Yes, I’m sure,
she replied icily. But if you don’t care enough to see me home, that’s fine.
The tone implied that it was anything but fine. Typical. Also typical, Matt dropped his head, and mumbled to us, See you guys later. Ry, take care of her, okay?
And then they turned and walked away.
Ryan shook his head and muttered, Since when did he become a eunuch?
I rolled my eyes, not wanting to put words to my true feelings.
Ryan continued, "How long has that been going on?"
Well, let’s see. They’ve been together for about five years now, so I’d say four years and eleven months.
Huh. I never noticed it before.
Really? That’s all I ever see from her. She was actually very well behaved for most of the evening. I didn’t know she was capable of acting so congenial.
I looked down at my feet, knowing I’d said too much. So much for not saying anything.
I was trying to think of a cute, funny line to cover up what I had just said when Ryan spoke. He still had his arm around me, holding onto my elbow. I was still leaning into him. He looked down at me and asked, Are you gonna take me out for a drink or what? Do I have to beg?
A little begging would be good.
I looked directly into his eyes and smiled. Oh man, I could listen to him beg all night long. Focus. Do you have any preferences?
Petite, cute, funny. I like brunettes, am partial to freckles and a Buckeye fan is a must.
I meant, where did you want to go, but I can tell you that you just happen to be in luck. I like to think that I am funny, although most people do not find me as humorous as I find myself. I am genetically incapable of tanning, and my grandfather was a walk-on to the team in the 30s.
I started walking down the street, strutting a little more than I would have done in jeans. Or sober.
Ryan seemed frozen for a minute and then caught up. Are you kidding? He really played?
Well, he was on the team. Playing time is another story. But he used to get rides from Youngstown down to Columbus with Paul Brown before he became the coach. My dad used to have the team picture hanging up in our family room.
Cool. You’d be a celebrity at OSU.
No one here in Boston even thinks it’s a big deal. I’m not sure if I’ve even told that to anyone other than Matt. Don’t have too many Buckeye fans out here. More of a baseball and hockey town.
I stopped and gestured towards a sleek-looking establishment. It was not a bar we went to often, generally more for the Euro-trash crowd. I wasn’t trying to impress Ryan; I just wanted to go someplace where I wasn’t going to run into a hundred people that I knew. Not that I wouldn’t have wanted to show him off. But I didn’t think that I would have this kind of time with him again, and I wanted him all to myself.
CHAPTER TWO
The bar was moderately crowded, but we managed to find two stools near the back. They were crowded together, and our legs were pressed up against each other. The female bartender immediately appeared in front of us, not surprisingly. Ryan looked at me to order first. I ordered a Guinness. He had a surprised look and said, Make it two,
holding up his fingers to emphasize. I smugly smiled at him. What did you expect, a white wine spritzer?
He laughed and said, No, I had you pegged for the sex-on-the-beach type.
Too much sand in uncomfortable places. But I don’t mind an occasional skinny dip.
The bartender brought our beers over and placed them down. I paid her and took a slow sip of my beer. What the hell was I doing? Why was I acting like a total ass? It’s not like this was a random date that I would never have to see again.
But then I felt a warm hand on my knee. Holy crap! I thanked God, yet again, that I'd taken the time to shave.
I rambled on. Well, only skinny dipping in pools though. I get skeeved out with the thought of too much nature near my, um, nature, you know? I don’t like lakes at all. Too much seaweed. It’s squishy and gross. And only when it’s warm out. I don’t want to be chilly, you know?
Please someone shoot me so I stop talking.
Ryan was looking at me, drinking his beer, an amused look on his face. I sighed and took another drink. Why did I have to act like an idiot just because he was hot? He looked like he had a question. What?
I asked. It was abrupt and rude, not at all how I meant to sound.
Someone—anyone—put me out of my misery. Please.
I was just wondering … why we haven’t hung out before? I mean, the other times when I’ve been up to visit.
I shrugged. This was not where I thought he was going. Frankly, I was surprised he was still sitting there and hadn't bolted yet.
Another sip.
I think Matt was hiding you from me. I didn’t know you were this funny. Gonna have to get on Matt for being so selfish.
He wrinkled his brow a little as if searching his distant memory. Then a look of a-ha
crossed his face. You have a boyfriend,
he stated, almost accusing.
I gave him a confused look. Um, not that I’m aware of. I’ve been single for, oh, a while.
It had been a year.
Depressing.
I had probably only even had one date since then. I tried to remember what ex he could be talking about. Ryan filled in the blanks. Who was the jack-off you were with at the tailgate? The one doing keg stands?
Ohhh,
I laughed. That fine specimen. Shortly after that lovely performance, he informed me that I would no longer receive the pleasure of his company since he was already spending his free time with a mutual friend. I had to spend the next six months sitting in class with both of them every day and socializing with them together outside of class. It was hell.
I paused and took a long sip of my Guinness. "Now, imagine her shock when she found out that he was cheating on her with his married supervisor while we were on our last internship. Ellen was waiting for him in the car one day while he ran into a store. She opened the glove compartment to see what was in there to find a stash of love letters, not to mention her underwear in there. He tried to blame her for being a snoop, and then turned it around, saying if she had been a better girlfriend, he wouldn’t have had to cheat on her."
I was wondering why you tolerated him. You always seemed so cool and down to earth. Didn’t seem like your type.
Of course he was my type. He was a slacker loser who treated me badly. What’s not to like? I have impeccable taste, you know,
I said, raising my eyebrows at him in a wonderfully self-deprecating gesture.
Did you learn from it?
Of course; I learned that I will always go after the wrong person. I swore off guys pretty much. I just don’t want to deal with it anymore. I’d rather be alone than be treated like crap again.
I put my elbow on the bar and tucked some hair behind my ear. It was at moments like this that I wished I had long hair to play with to distract a guy from my personality. I leaned on my hand and slowly lifted my Guinness with the other. I don’t know how I was still making eye contact with him. His hand was still on my knee, warm and sending even warmer sensations elsewhere. He looked at me, staring into my eyes. I couldn’t feel my feet.
He smiled and continued, At least I know he won’t be hard to compete with. He makes me look better already.
Like you need any help looking better.
Please tell me I did not say that out loud. Must drink more to end the embarrassment. Or maybe I should stop drinking so I can save some semblance of dignity. Option A. I drained my beer. And continued rambling, And you? Anyone you’re moving out here from Columbus?
Please say no. Please say no.
He shook his head. No, no one. I was kind of focused on school and then passing the bar. Had my eye on the prize.
And now, those beautiful eyes were on me.
No, they weren’t, I told myself. He was just being nice and didn’t want to go home to face icy Irene.
FOCUS.
He continued, I don’t date a lot.
Yeah, right.
He shrugged, I don’t know what kind of vibe I’m putting out there, but I seem to attract a lot of women who are very interested in the superficial and don’t have a lot of substance behind it. So, I figure, why waste my time and theirs when I know that it’s not going to go anywhere. I know it’s kind of harsh and abrupt, but I can usually tell about midway through the first date if there will be another one. And pretty much, the answer is no. At least, it used to be ….
He stopped and looked at me. And even when the date turns into more than one, I seem to be really, really bad at the relationship thing. It’s just never really clicked for me. I can’t seem to read women. I mean, when they’re on the stand, I can, but I have no idea what a woman wants from me.
Now he was starting to ramble.
Could I be making him nervous?
You ready for another?
He gestured at our empty glasses, finally taking his hand off my knee.
I swear my leg was burning. I nodded, and he caught the eye of the bartender. She had been staring us down since we started talking. I tried not to notice as she flirted with him. I reached for my purse on the bar, but he put his hand on mine. My turn.
I excused myself and walked as steadily as I could to the bathroom. I needed to pull myself together. I had a nice little buzz on and could not afford to lose any more control before turning into a bumbling idiot. Let's face it, it was a fine line to begin with. I may have been a little drunk, but I could not—would not—throw myself at Ryan. It would make him uncomfortable, and then it would be weird in the future.
Matt was so happy that Ryan was finally here. The situation with Irene was already tenuous at best, so I couldn’t make it any more awkward if I hoped to continue my friendship with