Resurrection

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Resurrection Page 27

by Karina Bliss


  “You ass,” she snapped. “You think this is going to change my mind?” Turning her back on him, she started wading to the ladder.

  “I wanted you the moment I met you,” he said.

  “Yeah, who didn’t want Stormy Hagen.” The pool got deeper; she started to breast-stroke.

  “I always thought you deserved better than Zander. And I know you deserve better than me. I’m a do-up, somebody who needs a lot of work. But no turnkey guy could ever appreciate you the way I do, because he wouldn’t know what you’ve overcome to be the miracle that you are. I love you.”

  Suddenly breathless, Lily stopped to tread water.

  Moss was wading toward her, the underwater lights dappling his face and body iridescent blue. “I’ve never said that to another woman and I never will. I love you for your optimism, for your hope, for your fearless heart. No other woman can hold a candle to you, and no other woman ever will.”

  She was ugly crying when he reached her. “I know you’re scared. I’m scared. But I’ll love you for the rest of my life if you’ll let me. Let me, Lily.”

  He held out his hand, and though she hadn’t told him this part of her fantasy, when she caught it he lifted her straight into his arms. “I’ve got you.”

  And that was when she let herself fall irrevocably in love.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Paying the cab driver, Moss nervously checked his watch. He was ten minutes early for his appointment with the next candidates on his adoption short list.

  The Emersons were Ohioans and the meeting was taking place at the Starbucks attached to their hotel. Sitting and waiting quietly was impossible, so hoisting his gym bag over his shoulder, he started walking. His first interview had revealed the need for a pressure valve, so he’d do a workout after this one. For now a couple of circuits around the block would serve to calm his nerves.

  If he loved Lily less he would have asked her to sit in on these interviews. But this torture was his alone. She understood what drove him to this decision and respected his right to make it—that was all he could ask of her. Knowing what that self-control must be costing her only made him love her more fiercely. Unfortunately, it would take years to become the man she already believed him to be. And Grace didn’t have that kind of time.

  A woman came toward him pushing a stroller. She veered to the curb, clearly wanting to put as much room between them as possible. He glanced at his reflection in the shop window and saw a man with hunched shoulders and a mean scowl. Way to scare off prospective parents. Straightening, he smoothed his expression to neutral and went to meet them.

  The Emersons proved to be lovely people. A little taken aback by him, even though he made an effort to smile. He tried not to give them the third degree, but couldn’t help himself. They’d been married for six years. They were financially secure. He’d just inherited a ranch that had been in his family for a couple of generations. She was a teacher.

  They passed all Moss’s tests. They listened to each other. When they talked about their extended families it was with an easy, taken-for-granted affection that confirmed Grace would always have that buffer. They looked at pictures of his daughter as though she was the most precious thing in the world, but didn’t romanticize the work of raising a baby.

  They were well-meaning, good people with no baggage or darkness inside them, who desperately needed a break.

  They were the perfect parents for Grace.

  They broke his fucking heart.

  * * *

  Moss clutched the punching bag, the only thing holding him up until he regained his breath and his legs steadied.

  After leaving the Emersons he’d wanted to exorcise every mental weakness, every enfeebling emotion, and he’d succeeded. His body was exhausted but his resolve was strong. Releasing the punching bag, he peeled the damp T-shirt from his torso and staggered to the showers.

  He loved everything about this gym—the squirt of cheap liquid soap from the dispenser, the sweat-stained leather of worn equipment that kept fees low and membership diverse. Last year he’d anonymously donated much-needed equipment, but he’d bought secondhand. They didn’t care for shiny and new here. This place attracted a lot of guys like him, men who needed to be physically strong to feel safe.

  It was as much of a home as he’d ever had.

  When he’d been a skinny eighteen-year-old, the owner—God rest his soul—had taught him how to bulk up so everyone would leave him the fuck alone. Now he never fought unless he had to. There were enough problems in the world without adding another violent male.

  He didn’t want to think or feel today; he just wanted to do. So after changing into clean clothes he called the Emersons and told them they were the right parents for Grace. It wasn’t agency policy, he could get into trouble, but he had to do it while he was in this Zen state.

  They were ecstatic. And it was done.

  Leaving, he nodded to a couple of guys he knew, but didn’t stop to talk. Lily was picking him up and he wanted to stay in the zone until he’d told her. Her pain would be harder to bear than his, but he’d done the right thing. He’d secured his daughter’s future.

  He lifted his face to the sun. It’s all good. Everyone’s going to be okay. The Honda swung into the parking lot and he glimpsed a small face pressed against the rear passenger window. Kayla and Jared’s toddler, Rocco. Moss’s composure developed a hairline crack.

  Yeah, it was great that Lily had stepped up to take care of his bandmate’s kids while Kayla helped out with band scheduling. But today he didn’t need cute. Today he needed quiet and a karmic fatalism.

  The car pulled up. Moss opened the front passenger door and was blasted by Alvin and the Chipmunks playing over the new sound system he’d bought. Wait, Maddie’s in the car too?

  “We’re turning it off for conversation, guys.” Lily punched the dial, cutting off the Chipmunks mid rock. “Hey you.”

  He swallowed. “Hey.”

  “Moss!” Maddie hollered from her booster seat between Rocco and Grace. “I drawed a picture of you at school. Wanna see?” She had a kids backpack unzipped on her lap and started yanking out artwork covered in sparkles and macaroni.

  “Sure.” Moss discovered he couldn’t look at Grace.

  Rocco held out a half-chewed apple.

  “No thanks, buddy.”

  The toddler dropped it onto the floor. His self-control fraying, Moss picked up the apple and tossed it into a hedge on the other side of the sidewalk.

  Rocco howled.

  “You didn’t want it!” It annoyed Moss that he could be so easily annoyed when he’d just spent two fucking hours beating his brain into submission through exercise. “Here, have my water bottle.” The toddler settled just as Grace began to fret; the car had been stationary too long.

  Maddie was still hunting for the picture, strewing artworks all over the floor.

  “Tell me when you’ve found it.” He got into the front passenger seat. “I’d hoped we could go back to that beachside restaurant for a late lunch,” he said to Lily, who was watching for a gap in traffic. He’d had it all planned. Telling her and Grace in a beautiful setting. Making it special. He added curtly, “But I guess having three kids makes that impossible.”

  “Probably not the best idea,” she agreed, finding her gap and accelerating into it. “But I do know a child-friendly place where you could grab a Reuben sandwich and we could buy the big kids an I-C-E-C—”

  “Icecream!” Maddie’s shriek pierced Moss’s eardrums. “It’s always ice cream when it starts with I!”

  “Inside voices,” Lily called.

  “Can we have Alvin and the Chip—”

  “No!” Moss didn’t know where the anger came from. “What are you doing driving these kids anyway?” he demanded. “You’re on my payroll, not the Walkers’.”

  Traffic was congested, so Lily spared him one quizzical look before returning her attention to the road. “Kayla’s working with Dimity on band stuff, which is help
ing your career, and I’m multitasking. This is a team sport, remember?” Her tone suggested she was trying to humor him. “Not to mention, they’re your friends.”

  He was in no mood to be humored. “And not living in each other’s pockets helps keep it that way.”

  She put her hand on his knee. “Are you okay?”

  Trying to be, he massaged his temples. “I saw the Emersons, the next candidates for Grace, earlier and—”

  “Found it,” Maddie trilled from the back seat. “Found your painting.”

  “Oh,” said Lily’s profile.

  He threw a perfunctory glance over his shoulder. “Great picture.”

  “No. I have to ’splain it to you.”

  “I can’t right now.”

  “Go ahead.” Lily stared fixedly at the road. “This isn’t the place for this conversation anyway.”

  Frustrated, he twisted to give Maddie his attention and she pointed to different stick figures. “It’s all of us…me and Mummy and Daddy an’…”

  Grace started waving her arms and legs. Riveting his gaze to the painting, he stroked her head to soothe her. Warm as a duck’s egg.

  “An’ there’s Seth, an’ Dimity, an’ Madeleine, only I’m not so good at drawing dogs, an’…”

  Grace’s waving got more frantic. Steeling himself, Moss looked at her. She was smiling at him, sheer delight on her tiny face. He dropped his hand as if burned. And still she smiled and waved and gurgled drool. There you are.

  His heart shattered and the vacuum filled with pain and love and grief.

  Maddie was still talking. “An’ this is Lily an’ you, an’ baby Grace an’—”

  Abruptly, he turned to the front. “Playing happy families isn’t going to magically make me want to keep Grace,” he snarled at Lily.

  She glanced at him, startled. “This isn’t about putting pressure on you.”

  “You need a nap,” said Maddie from the back seat.

  “No, I need some time out. Pull over.”

  Without a word she did as he asked. “The Emersons,” she said gently, when they’d parked. “You liked them?”

  “Yes.” If he didn’t leave now he’d start to weep. He unclipped his seat belt, opened the door. “I’ll catch a taxi home later.”

  * * *

  Lily wanted to wrap her arms around him and absorb all that pain, beg him to reconsider—together we could raise Grace—but she already knew an impassioned plea wouldn’t work. Only Moss could unlock whatever fears were keeping him stuck.

  And the kids were in the car.

  “It’s okay, you go. We’ll see you when you’re ready.”

  He jerked his head in acknowledgment and walked away, hands dug in his jacket pockets, head down, bag slung over his shoulder. Suffering. Oh, my love. The Emersons were clearly a home run.

  Hagen women held out for heroes, someone who’d sweep them off their feet with money and charm and save them from disappointment and sorrow.

  “Do we still get ice cream?” Maddie asked anxiously. “We been good.”

  “Yes.” Releasing her iron grip on the steering wheel, Lily turned to smile at everyone, her gaze lingering on Grace, who was sucking her fist. “You and Rocco get ice cream.”

  “Yay!” Maddie yelled, echoed by her little brother.

  Lily couldn’t remember the drive to the store, but within fifteen minutes they were sitting around a table, Rocco in a highchair, his face bearded in vanilla ice cream, and Maddie chatting between cat-like licks of her strawberry waffle cone. The staff had heated water for Grace’s bottle and the baby lay cradled in Lily’s arms, milk-drunk and nearly asleep, her small hands clutching and unclutching the bottle.

  Maybe love was discovering you were strong enough to bend without breaking, strong enough to share the load.

  “Moss was mad at Grace,” Maddie commented.

  Lily returned to the present. “Why do you say that, honey?”

  “He said he doesn’t want to keep her. But how can he? You’re looking after her for her real mummy and daddy.”

  She’d forgotten what she’d told the little girl the first day she’d brought Grace home. “You know how you love Rocco but sometimes he makes you cross? It’s like that. Moss probably feels better now.” God, she hoped so. Loosing one arm from Grace, she checked her cell phone. No messages. She could wait to hear from him or she could take the initiative. Except she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say yet.

  Last night she’d tried to cut her losses, because that’s what Hagen women did when they realized their hero was simply a man.

  Her cell rang as she was waving goodbye to the kids, after dropping them home. Kayla had asked her to stay for coffee but she’d made an excuse. She had too much to think about and Moss hadn’t called.

  Thank God. She activated speakerphone. “Moss, I’ve been—”

  “Ten thousand dollars to tell your story, Stormy,” said a male voice. “Don’t hang—”

  Adrenaline flooded her bloodstream. She cut the connection and pulled over to block the number. Could he track her? Thoroughly spooked, she disabled her cell’s GPS and, just to be sure, activated airplane mode. All tricks she’d learned after her breakup with Zander.

  Grace began to cry.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart,” Leaning over the front seat, Lily administered jerky pats of reassurance. Conscious that she was in shock, she took extra care before rejoining traffic.

  A half mile along the road, she thought, There’s nothing stopping him calling from another phone. She stopped again, briefly, to switch off her cell with trembling hands, then tried to talk herself down.

  You’ve done everything you can to escape detection. Though when she got home, she might remove the battery from her cell until she got a new phone number. She resisted the urge to stop and do it now. He called you Stormy. That means your cover as Lily is still solid. No real harm done, except to her blood pressure.

  Her nerves settled. She could think. How had he gotten her number? She was so careful about who she shared her details with. A cold premonition shivered down her spine. Switching her phone on, she called her mother.

  “I can’t believe you,” Dee Dee accused the moment she picked up. She’d obviously seen caller ID. “He told me you cut him off without even listening to his pitch.”

  Not sorry and definitely not feeling guilty. Why would she expect any different? “How could you betray my trust, Mom?”

  “Stop exaggerating. I gave him your number, is all.”

  “Only because you don’t have my address,” Lily said bitterly.

  “Of course I wouldn’t have shared your address! And I did this for you, hon—”

  “He could have tracked my cell somehow, discovered where I live! Ever think of that?”

  “People can do that?” Dee Dee sounded outraged. “Seriously, what’s the world coming to? Not the IRS though, right? There’d be an invasion of privacy law or something protecting citizens.”

  Diversion. It was an old tactic. Lily waited until Dee Dee finished her rant.

  “Why did you do it, Mom?” she asked quietly. As if there was the possibility of an honest answer.

  “I’m worried you’re missing out on an opportunity, honey. Wise up and make lemonade while there’s still some juice in this lemon.”

  “Like you did when you sold my number?” She prayed she was wrong.

  “Your number, that’s all.” Dee Dee’s voice sharpened. “Quit with the tragic voice, it’s your choice to say yes or no to the offer. Though if you say no, you’re an idiot. This is your last chance, Irene, to get something out of the screw-up you’ve made of your opportunities.”

  Lily said nothing.

  “Honey, don’t get defensive.” Dee Dee’s voice changed to a caressing wheedle. “The rates needed paying and I’ve had a lot of expenses this month what with breaking up with Chuck and kicking out the new tenants and—”

  “Stop! Just stop.” Lily pulled into the driveway, following its bends and cur
ves until the house came into view, its facade blazing white in the sun. Moss must have been watching for the car because he came out the front door. Too far away to make out his expression, but the sight of him quieted her mind. He mattered. Grace mattered. And her mother’s old tricks…just…didn’t.

  “I so wanted to believe, Mom, that when push came to shove you’d come through for me and be the mother I need. Or that I could be the daughter compassionate enough to forgive you anything.” She stopped in front of the garage. “I was wrong on both counts, so I guess I have something of you in me.”

  Disconnecting the call, she removed the battery from her cell and dropped both into her bag. Switched off the engine. Turning, she saw Grace smiling at her.

  “It’s not funny,” she said, stunned by the glow of that first smile. “I just broke up with my mother.”

  Grace kept smiling and suddenly Lily was half-laughing, half-crying. “You are just like your daddy, no social graces.” Blindly, she reached out a hand and caught the baby’s tiny waving fist. “I tried, Gracie,” she whispered, “I really tried, and I’m so sorry, I can’t bring him around. You and I know how much he loves you.”

  You can only change yourself. She’d thought she’d learned that lesson but she was still—as Moss was doing with Grace’s adoption—expecting perfect to be achievable.

  A perfect parent, a perfect life, a perfect love.

  It was time to stop hanging her hat on impossible dreams.

  Moss approached the car and hurriedly she wiped her face dry with her fingers, adjusted her glasses. He didn’t need her grief while he was trying to ignore his own.

  Opening the car door, she got out, and he stopped some three feet away, his gaze tormented. “Lily,” he said helplessly, “I’ve made you cry.”

  “No, I had a fight with my mother. I’m okay but I need to tell you something.”

  Grace’s adoption would break her heart, but she loved this man, despite the pain he was causing her. Except he didn’t know that, because she’d never spoken the words he’d gifted her last night without reservation or conditions.

  “I love you,” she wrapped her arms around him and held tight. “And I’m here for you, no matter what.”

 

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