Page 46 of Pity Parade

“You want to get married and have a family, don’t you?”

I inhale deeply before blowing out my breath like I’m trying to inflate a balloon. “Yes. That’s what I want.”

His chin bobs up and down. “Fine. I won’t say anything.”

“Really?” I can’t believe he’s going to just let this go.

“If that’s the kind of life you want, then that’s the kind of life you should have.”

“Thank you,” I tell him sincerely. Then I remember his wife and son before saying, “Marriage isn’t for everyone, but I want what my parents had.”

Instead of asking about my parents, he reaches out a hand. “Will you help me up? I think I can make it back to the cottage.”

I jump to my feet and then I offer my arm to lend support. Neither one of us says anything as he hobbles along. We’re nearly back by the time we run into Daniel again. He calls out, “Thank goodness you’re okay. There isn’t an ice machine in my refrigerator.”

“I’m good, thanks,” Heath tells him.

But he doesn’t seem good at all. And I’m not sure his preoccupation has anything to do with his leg.

CHAPTER TWENTY

HEATH

Daniel insists on going to the store for ice once we get back to the cottages. When Trina tries to tag along, he tells her, “Stay with Heath in case he needs anything.” She looks like she’d rather jump off the Chicago Bridge and take her chances in the filthy water than spend more time with me.

As Daniel walks away, I tell Trina, “Go with him if you want. I’ll be fine.”

Her gaze shifts in the direction Daniel went before returning to me. She ultimately sits down on my glider. “He’ll think I’m uncaring if I do that.”

“You can’t have him knowing who you really are,” I sarcastically drawl.

Her gaze focuses on me like a death ray. “I’ll have you know that I’m very caring. I just didn’t want you messing up my chances with Daniel.”

Sitting down on a chair across from her, I ask, “Why would it be so bad having a television show help you find love?”

“The networks aren’t interested in a nice, normal dating show. All they currently want is sensational crap. I’m not into embarrassing myself if I can help it.”

“If it’s so embarrassing, why do so many people sign up to do it?”

She hesitates for a moment before answering, “Half of them are so desperate they think it’s their last chance and the other half are hoping to spin their fifteen minutes of reality television fame into something else.”

“So, no one is optimistic with their intentions?”

She crosses her arms in front of her. “I didn’t say that.”

“You said they were either desperate or dishonest.”

“Believe it or not, Heath, I might actually know more about dating on television than you do.”

I’m sure she does, but for some reason I enjoy sparring with her. “I’m surprised you haven’t found a husband on your own already.” While this is truthfully how I feel, it’s clearly the wrong thing to say.

Glaring at me, she hisses, “Yes, well, there don’t appear to be a lot of quality men looking for long term love these days.”

“That’s a shot at me,” I correctly surmise.

Her shoulders raise a few inches before dropping. “If the shoe fits.”

I’m not going to fall into this trap with her, so I say, “I’m sure there are more men out there looking for a life partner than not.”

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