Every Breath (A Different Kind of Love #5)

by Liz Durano

  I glance at my phone, the notification I’m waiting for about an available seat on any available flight to Taos or Santa Fe turning into wishful thinking with every minute.

  It’s bad enough I lied to Sarah, telling her I would be offline for most of the day because I’d be with my bosses who’d flown in to oversee the whole operation. Bosses? I’m the damn boss in this operation and even she knows it. But somehow, she didn’t seem to catch that little lie.

  Still, so much for all my planning. Why didn’t I just rent a car and drive down? I’d have been halfway there by now.

  “I hear the snowpack’s really good right now at Taos Ski Valley,” Larry says, sitting across from me in the hotel lobby. “Does that mean you’re gonna miss spending Valentine’s with your woman?”

  “Not if I can help it,” I mutter, checking my phone again for a notification—any notification—that there’s a seat available. Surely someone decided he wasn’t in the mood to ski today.

  Around the hotel lobby, people are busy getting caught up in the spirit of the holiday, the bar filling up with lonely hearts hoping for a hookup. From a set of lounge chairs behind me, I hear a woman laugh at something her companion said. To my right, a couple is staring lovingly at each other. I glance at the clock on the wall. Three o’clock.

  Shit. This is what happens when you become too overconfident, Benny Turner. You fucking fail.

  I exhale, reminding myself to relax. “Keep me updated if you guys find anything new from the spill site, okay? I know we’re pretty much done and the samples are making their way to the lab as we speak, but you know the drill.”

  “Yup, Doc, we all got the protocol you emailed us after lunch. In the meantime, we’re gonna stick to the original return schedule and just hang out,” he says, winking. “Maybe we’ll even get lucky like you, huh?”

  I look at him, curious. “Like me?”

  “You did call her, right? The woman who gave you her number?” He laughs, shaking his head disbelievingly at my reaction. “Come on, Doc, we all saw her hand you some napkin when you walked past her at the bar last night. It had her number, right? Don’t tell me you said no to that hot piece of ass? Fuck, she was hot for you!”

  “So?”

  “Tony saw her first though. Too bad she only had eyes for you.”

  I don’t answer. I just shake my head as my phone vibrates and I excuse myself. If it’s another notification that there are no seats available, then I’m renting a car right now and driving like hell to Taos. It’s crazy, but that’s what happens when the universe decides to throw a wrench into your plans. I only hope the guys are holding their own against Sarah in case she gets annoyed at the whole adventure I’d planned last night.

  What’s this I hear about everyone getting together tonight? I thought you were working on that Colorado spill.

  I don’t need to see who the message is from for the tone is familiar. Dax must have told him.

  I’m done here but all flights are fully booked. I’m about to rent a car. I should make it there in five hours.

  Daniel Drexel: So when you asked me about it this morning, you meant to ask her tonight?

  Benny: Yes.

  Daniel: That’s short notice.

  Benny: What can I say? It’s Valentine’s Day.

  Daniel: And the snow pack’s amazing in the Valley. It’s probably why there are no seats available.

  Benny: That’s what I figured.

  Daniel: And you think you can drive all the way to Taos and make it in time?

  Benny: I’ve done it before. It’s only 5 or 6 hours.

  Four if I drove but he doesn’t need to know that. Hell, I’d even move mountains, toxic waste or not, just to get there in time. Besides, it would totally suck balls for everyone to be there and I’d be a no-show. Worse, I hate having Daniel know of my plans only for them to fall apart at the last minute like it is now. At this rate, even if I did rent a car, I’m already running an hour late. I’d never had any problems getting on earlier flights before. But then, I wasn’t planning on proposing to the woman I loved either.

  But even as I wait for Daniel’s response, it’s not like he can do anything on his end. Daniel lives in New York and while I don’t expect him to be in attendance tonight, I told him because it’s the right thing to do. No, actually, I didn’t tell him about the plan; I asked him for his daughter’s hand in marriage first thing this morning. He sounded like he’d just woken up but he gave me his blessing—or in his words, about damn time, son.

  My phone buzzes as a new message comes in.

  Daniel: So you’re still in Colorado then?

  Benny: Yes, sir.

  I stare at my phone, not knowing what else to say. If anything, I feel silly for planning something so ambitious only to fall short, especially in front of someone like Daniel. There’s something about him I’ve always admired, and I’m not just saying that because he’s Sarah’s father. It’s how he got from being a stockbroker working for someone else to forming his own investment firm that’s since transitioned to a powerful hedge fund. For someone like Daniel Drexel, when he wants to do something, he does it.

  So where does that leave people like me?

  Chapter Seven

  The third envelope directs me to go where I had Dyami… or I think that’s where Benny wants me to go when he wrote,

  “Here, you gave me the best gift

  a man can be blessed with,

  dark eyes, dark hair,

  your effervescent smile…

  and just as stubborn.”

  I smile. Dyami. Has to be.

  I get in my car and make my way to the hospital. It’s the only thing that comes to mind. Where else did I have Dyami anyway? And how on earth can I forget the twenty hours of labor I went through only to have an emergency C-section because the umbilical cord had wrapped around Dyami’s neck after all my damn pushing?

  I can still remember the look of alarm on Benny’s face when he overheard the doctor and nurses discuss what was going on, the soft beeping of the monitors on either side of me recording everything that was going on inside my body. He may not have known medical jargon but Benny knew something was wrong especially when everything I’d learned as a nursing student—and even as a nurse—flew out the window.

  Suddenly, it was as if any certification or license I’d earned before then was suddenly stripped off me and all I was then was a woman in need of a reassuring look from the man she loved. I realized then how different things become when you’re the one lying on the operating table. Then came the paperwork and all the signatures needed to be signed on the dotted line, one page after another as they wheeled me into the operating room, Benny pulled aside behind me so they could help him don his sterile gown, gloves and mask. The urgency reminded me of my own mortality, that if anything should go wrong…

  But no, I couldn’t think of such things.

  I take a deep breath. I’d never been so scared in my life and yet with Benny right there, stoic and strong for both of us, I knew I’d be alright.

  “He’s so beautiful, nízhoní,” he’d whispered, his eyes riveted to something beyond the paper barrier they’d set up below my neck. “Our little warrior.”

  That’s when I heard Dyami’s lustful cry and I knew, as Benny kissed the tears running down my temples, that everything was going to be alright.

  * * *

  I arrive at the hospital fifteen minutes later. Traffic is still light but with everyone going somewhere to celebrate Valentine’s Day, it’s starting to get busy. If Benny were here, he’d probably have told me to get ready to go out to dinner, wearing a dress he’d pick out and lay out on the bed complete with the shoes. Knowing Benny, there wouldn’t be any underwear because I wouldn’t need it.

  If Benny were here…

  I step into the lobby and look around, searching for a familiar face but I see no one. I glance at my watch, frowning. I look around the room again, feeling silly that I’m supposed to meet someone at a hospital l
obby like it were a date.

  What if I’m wrong? What if this isn’t the place? Maybe Benny meant the clinic where he’d seen the first sign that we were having a boy in the ultrasound.

  “Mom?”

  I turn and see Dyami, a replica of his father except that he has my mouth. Without a word, I wrap him in a big long hug, not wanting to let go. His embarrassed calls for me to let go are muffled against my shirt.

  “Mom, um, you can let go of me now.”

  I fight back the tears as I take a step back. Now is not the time to cry.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, taking a deep breath and blowing the air through my lips. I didn’t really know who to expect, but it wasn’t Dyami.

  “Tito Dax told me you were–”

  “–meeting you here,” I continue for him, laughing. “Yes, I get it.”

  He frowns. “What’s going on?”

  I study him, my eyes narrowing. Maybe the kid can spill the beans to his mother. “You don’t know?”

  Dyami shakes his head. “No, I don’t. I was at Tito Gabe’s playing Minecraft and Tito Dax came over and said you wanted to see me. He said it was important.”

  “In a hospital?” I ask, disbelieving. “Where is he?”

  Dyami shrugs. “He left. He said he had to get stuff ready for movie night at the house for the twins.”

  I’m going to kill Dax when I see him.

  “He didn’t tell you anything else on the way?” I ask suspiciously. “A plan, maybe?”

  “No, he was just asking me how school was, if my Valentine’s Day was going well… that kind of stuff.”

  I sigh. Men. Guess I’m not getting anything out of this one, even if he is my son.

  “Alright, so now that you’re here, what are we supposed to do? Where are we supposed to go?” I ask, using a different tactic. “Because I have no idea.”

  “Oh! That’s right.” Dyami pulls out an envelope from his jacket pocket. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Mom. I made you this one.”

  He hands me a familiar-looking envelope. It’s similar to the ones Nana and I folded and sealed, all twenty of them. “I thought this was for your Valentine at school, the girl you liked,” I say. “That’s why you didn’t want me to see it.”

  Dyami shrugs sheepishly. “I didn’t want you to see it because it was for you. You’re my Valentine.”

  I roll my eyes but open the envelope, anyway. The card inside matches all the other cards Nana and I helped him put together except unlike the rest of the cards that didn’t have any names on them—he was supposed to hand out the cards to everyone so no names needed—he personalized this one.

  Dearest Mom, Happy Valentine’s Day. I love you more than Nana’s breakfast burritos. Love, Dyami. P.S. Don’t tell her.

  I laugh, pulling him in for another hug and holding him for as long as I can until he mumbles something against my shirt.

  “Um, Mom, there’s this, too.”

  As I pull away, I see the familiar red envelope in his hand. I look at him as he tries to fight back a knowing grin but fails gleefully.

  That’s it. I’m going to kill Benny when I see him.

  * * *

  The card Dyami gives me directs me to the Taos Plaza, to the hotel where Benny and I usually hang out for drinks while admiring works by one of his favorite Navajo artists that grace the adobe walls of the lobby. I wonder if this means Benny can make it down in time but if I thought I could grill Dyami for more information about what’s really going on while on the way there, I’m mistaken. He won’t budge at all. I can’t even threaten to leave him at the hospital because it would be child neglect… or is it endangerment?

  It doesn’t matter. He’s Benny’s kid through and through. Tough when he needs to be, and just as stoic as his father. A few times last summer, Benny took Dyami with him to the Navajo Nation where they spent time with his family, especially Benny’s grandfather who wanted his great-grandson to be taught the way of the Navajo.

  By the time they returned after a week spent on the reservation, Dyami’s skin had turned dark and he told me all about having to wake up before sunrise and running as fast as he could outside the door to the east and back again. Dyami didn’t like it at first but after having to be in bed before nine because the Wi-fi was sporadic at best and there was nothing for him to do but learn Navajo string games from his grandmother, he found himself waking up early anyway. It was just so quiet out there, Mom, he told me, that you can hear your thoughts… and other things.

  “Do I need to get dressed? Maybe something nicer?”

  “You already look great, Mom,” he says in a tone that reminds me of his father. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” I focus on the road so I don’t start getting teary-eyed. As fun as this surprise seems, it’s also giving me hope—too much hope—that maybe Benny did manage to make it down here after all. But what if it’s just something Dax and the gang cobbled up so I won’t feel too lonely?

  “Come on, Mom, cheer up. It’s not so bad that Dad can’t make it tonight,” Dyami says, dashing any remaining hope that Benny did make it back in town.

  “Besides, you’ve got me,” Dyami adds. “I’m your Valentine’s date tonight.”

  “That’s really nice, Dyami, and I really appreciate all this. I really do,” I say. “Especially the part about loving me more than Nana’s breakfast burritos. I bet that must have taken a lot to say that, right?”

  He grins, his eyes straight ahead as if he doesn’t want to give himself away. “Yup.”

  Chapter Eight

  The moment we make it to the hotel, I can tell something big is about to happen. What it is, I have no idea but I can feel the excitement vibrating from Dyami himself. That’s the thing with eleven-year-olds. They still have a bit of innocence in them that even best-kept secrets don’t stand a chance.

  “Your dad’s here, isn’t he?” I ask, unable to contain my excitement.

  “Mom, just enjoy the surprise, okay?” Dyami says, sighing. “I honestly have no idea what’s going on. Tito Dax just told me to give you that card and come here with you.”

  He takes my hand and guides me through the lobby, past the guests who seem split in the middle between locals and tourists. None of them look like Benny.

  We head toward one of the rooms usually reserved for small parties and my heart thunders inside my chest.

  Calm down, Sarah. You know he’s working. Like Dyami says, just enjoy it.

  But I can’t help it. Surely all these surprises can only lead to one thing. If not, I’ll throttle Dax myself because surely this has to be his idea.

  “Hey, sis, you made it,” the brother I need to throttle says as I step through the entrance leading to the private alcove, its walls filled with artwork featuring Navajo and Pueblo people.

  But I can’t throttle him just yet because he’s not alone and he’s got his namesake in his arm. Dax, Jr. or DJ for short, is a carbon copy of his dad.

  “Whatever happened to that cartoon mashup you were talking about?” I ask, rolling my eyes. “Curious George and Guppies.”

  “Bubble Guppies,” he corrects me as DJ holds out his arms toward me. “Anyway, just a change of plans. This is way better, don’t you think? All of us in one place to celebrate the cheesiest holiday of the year?”

  I take DJ from Dax’s arms. “You know you don’t believe that.”

  “Nope,” he says as Harlow with DJ’s twin sister Anita Pearl (or Ani-Pea for short) comes up behind him. Next to him, Nana steps forward to hug me first.

  “I’ll get you later for this, Dax,” I say as Harlow pulls me in her second hug of the day.

  “He really put his heart and soul into this thing. It was like Def-Con 4 at the house,” Harlow says, laughing.

  Gabe is here, too, together with two of his nephews who rush to Dyami the moment we arrive and whisk him to the far end of the room where I overhear them talk about some latest strategy for a video game. Sawyer, Alma, Drea, and Tyler are here, as w
ell, along with Todd, Sawyer’s older brother, and he’s the last person I get to hug.

  By this time, I’m confused. I honestly thought it was going to be some romantic rendezvous, not a family gathering. But I’m also feeling too overwhelmed to demand an explanation. When Harlow hands me a glass of wine, I take it without question and almost finish it in one gulp. After the day I’ve had, I need it.

  Still, I need to know what’s going on. Surely we can’t all be just standing around drinking wine all night. But I don’t need to wait too long for everyone turns toward the door and Dad walks in.

  Wearing a heather gray turtleneck under a dark blazer, dark blue jeans and Chelsea boots, he could easily be in New York, but he’s not. He’s right here.

  “Dad? What are you doing here?” I ask in surprise, but before Daniel Drexel can answer, Benny walks in behind him wearing a white button-down shirt and his favorite jeans, his jacket slung over one arm.

  I’d like to believe that after the scavenger hunt of the last few hours, of course, I’d expected to see Benny. It made sense. After all the suspense, why wouldn’t he show up toward the end?

  But I also know about his dedication to his work, the people working with him, and the protocol surrounding toxic spills like the one he’d been asked to consult. Those things took days. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing prepares me to see Benny walking into the room. After twelve years, he still takes my breath away.

  “Let me hold your glass,” Harlow says as I hand her my wine glass and rush into Benny’s arms. Two steps is all it takes and I’m crushed against his chest, his arms wrapped around me.

  All questions disappear from my mind in a flash, completely forgotten, the lengthy suspense and surprise staged by my family and friends forgiven. I’m not even going to throttle my brother. All that matters is Benny being in the same room when he said he couldn’t make it. Maybe I’ll throttle him instead for putting me through all this suspense.