by Leah Atwood
“I won’t.” She pointed in the direction of the kitchen where the smell of freshly brewed coffee beckoned. “Do you want a cup? I’ll bring you one.”
“Sure.” He glanced out the window, then winked at her. “If you don’t mind, I’ll sit here and admire the snow a bit longer.”
***
Piles of unwrapped presents formed multiple stacks around the living room. Evan hadn’t received this many presents since before he’d graduated high school, but his parents had spared no expense this year. They’d even spoiled Luke, now officially part of the family, and Janie, whom they’d taken under their wing and declared one of them.
Not all presents had been given out yet. He had a special one set aside for Janie that he’d give to her in private after Kate and Luke left, and Mom and Dad went to bed. A lot of hours had gone into making it, and he hoped she liked it.
He stole a glance at her. Her face displayed appreciation for all the gifts, but he knew the inclusion meant more to her than the presents themselves.
She wrapped a plum-colored scarf around her neck and stroked the fabric. “It’s so soft. I want to go outside for an excuse to wear it.”
“I saw it and immediately thought of you.” His mom beamed. “And you’ll need it the next few days. This cold snap isn’t going anywhere for now.”
Kate rose to her feet. “I have a final present each for Mom, Dad, and Evan. It’s from Luke and me.” She distributed a large, file-sized envelope to each of them. “Open them.”
Sliding a finger under the flap, he pried it loose. He looked inside and saw a paper. Pulled it out and realized it was some type of certificate. For what? Scanning it, he read, Congratulations on your promotion to uncle, effective this July.
The words sunk in. His big sister was having a baby.
Jealousy like he’d never known swooped down on him, and he hated himself for it. Nausea rolled in his stomach. She would live the dream he’d never get to experience. No one knew, except him and the doctors who broke the news. He clenched his jaw, willing the emotion to go away.
Help me, Lord. Take away this envy and replace it with only positive feelings.
Kate’s face glowed. She deserved nothing but happiness, and she’d be a fantastic mother.
He watched as their mom hugged and squeezed her, and shed joyous tears over the news she’d be a grandmother.
Their joy jumped to him. A corner of his heart ached, but he couldn’t be happier for his sister. He’d be the best uncle his future niece or nephew could ask for.
Joining in the embraces and celebration, he snuck a peak at Janie. Did the news evoke similar sentiments in her? Did she mourn for the child she and Mike would never have? Her face revealed nothing but a quiet smile.
A few hours later, after Kate and Luke had left, and his parents retired for the night, he sought out Janie to give her the special gift. He found her curled on the sofa with silent tears and sobs wracking her body.
He approached slowly, set the gift aside, and sat beside her, enveloping her in his arms until the cries subsided. He didn’t tell her it wasn’t that bad, or even that it would be okay.
In her sorrow, he let her cry out her grief without adding meaningless platitudes. If she wanted to talk, she would. Time had no measure. He’d be there for her until she no longer needed him.
At some point, Janie lifted her head and met his gaze. “I wanted a baby, but Mike thought it best to wait until we had financial security. We’d decided to try after that deployment.”
“I’m sorry.” He was so sick of those two words. Too much to be sorry for, too little that could be changed.
“I’m happy for your sister. I truly am.” She wiped her eyes on the sleeve at her shoulder. “Babies are a sweet blessing, but it reminded me of what I didn’t have. I held it in, praying no one would see. I’d feel terrible if I cast any shadow on their joy.”
Tell her. Share your burden. You don’t have to carry it alone. He couldn’t. It was too personal, too private a flaw. “No one would have faulted you. They would have understood.”
She shook her head. “They deserve this happiness without my baggage bringing them down.”
That he understood. More than she knew.
He nudged her shoulder with his, then reached behind him to grab the gift. “Hey, I have something that might make you smile. Want another present?”
“You and your family have given me too much.”
“This one’s different. It’s from me, Jared, and Wyatt.” Gripping it tightly, he handed it to her and held his breath. Please let her like it.
Her fingers brushed his as she curled a hand around the edge. “I should wait until we’re all together.”
Evan moved his head side to side. “They wanted you to have it now, on Christmas.”
“Should I open it then?”
He laughed and nodded. “That’s usually what you do with a present.”
She ran her hand over the perfectly wrapped box. He couldn’t take credit for that—he’d asked Mom to help him wrap it yesterday. Her fingers stilled on the sliver of tape holding the final piece of gift wrap in place. Finally, she revealed the entire box and lifted the lid, removed the book.
“What is this?” Her hand rested on the cover, as if she knew what she’d find, but wanted time to prepare.
“A scrapbook of your life with Mike.” His eyes remained glued to hers, waiting for a reaction. “We had creative help from a few of the females in the squadron and some of the guy’s wives.”
Hands trembling, she lifted back the front cover. “Oh my goodness, it’s the first picture of Mike and me together, years before we ever dated. We spent hours in that sandbox as children. How did you find this?”
“We called your parents, and they sent us a handful of photos to choose from.”
She flipped to the next page and laughed. “Our junior prom. What was I thinking with that dress?”
“You were pretty.” He elbowed her in the ribs. “A bit mermaidish, but still cute.”
“Those sequins.” She shuddered in embarrassment. “I bet that dress is still hanging somewhere in my parents’ house.”
She went forward several pages and stopped. “Senior prom proved my fashion taste matured.”
“Is that a green tie he’s wearing?”
“I didn’t say his style improved.” As she continued examining each page, a range of emotions swept over her face.
Affection. Grief. Love. Sadness. Merriment. Grief again.
A tear dropped on the final page, and she didn’t move to dry it. Her hand pressed against the plastic page protector. “The day he deployed. This is the last picture ever taken of us together. I love it, even if it’s bittersweet. I can look at our faces and see the love between us.”
“He loved you—no doubt about that. His final words begged us to tell you how much he loved you.”
She clutched the scrapbook close to her chest. “I’ll treasure this forever. Thank you.”
“There are a few hours of Christmas left, and there’s still snow on the ground. Should we bundle up and sit outside with hot chocolate?” The idea came out of the blue, but he discovered he really wanted her to say yes.
“I can’t imagine a better ending to this day.”
“I’ll make the drinks and meet you outside.”
While the milk heated, he ran out to the shop and grabbed a space heater. He plugged it into an outdoor outlet on the patio and pulled two chairs close to it. With that and the heat exuding from the house, they should stay semi-comfortable.
He returned to the kitchen right as the milk turned into a rolling boil. After removing the saucepan from the heat, he funneled it into cups and added the powdered mix. Threw in extra marshmallows.
Janie walked in laughing. “Having hot chocolate with your marshmallows?”
“They’re super fresh, the kind that melt right into it.” He held one out to her. “Try one.”
She reached out a hand to take one, but on impulse
he held it to her lips.
What am I doing?
After a short hesitation, she opened her mouth, and he fed her the sugary treat. His fingers brushed against her lips and lingered—every second of lingering taking them down a path they shouldn’t take—couldn’t take.
But when Janie’s eyes met his, filled with the same wonder and awe and confusion that he felt, he didn’t stop. His hand slid against the silky skin of her cheek, finding a home at the nape of her neck.
When had his heart shifted? Had it? Or was this romantic encounter a product of emotional overload? He pushed all thoughts aside.
His eyes never left hers, waiting for any sign that this wasn’t what they both wanted. Her throat constricted, and her teeth grazed her bottom lip. Nervous, but not unwilling.
She raised her hand, tentatively touching his cheek, then trailed a finger along his jaw.
Closer than they’d ever been, but still so far apart.
He guided her forward—further down the path—lowering his head for their mouths to meet. His lips pressed against hers in a healing kiss. And for those few seconds, he was a man, whole and uncrippled.
Chapter Nine
Tomorrow she’d be home in the comfort of her own house. If she could have left without being rude to her hosts, she would have skedaddled out of there the day after Christmas. Also known as the day after she’d made a fool of herself and kissed Evan. Or let him kiss her. Did semantics even matter at this point?
The kiss, as wonderful as it had been, was a mistake. Neither of them was ready for the aftermath nor prepared to handle the seismic shift in their relationship. And so, they ignored it, refused to acknowledge it had ever happened.
She was fine with that most of the time. Too confused to know what she wanted or how she felt, she’d rather delay a discussion until she could sort out her feelings. Then, at other times, a part of her needed to know what had happened. Had the kiss meant anything or had they been wrapped up in the moment?
She knew one thing: she wanted the elephant out of the room.
What she needed more than anything was space from Evan. His constant presence overwhelmed her, but where could she go? Until tomorrow, her home was his home. The space of two bedrooms didn’t put enough distance between them.
At least today she’d have a short break. One of Kate’s presents to her had been a gift certificate to a local spa, and they’d scheduled manicures for today, just the two of them. How long had it been since she’d had girl time? Not since before Mike died.
It had been even longer since she’d had a manicure, and her nails told on her. Chipped polish continued to peel from the quick paint job she’d done two weeks ago. Her cuticles hadn’t been tended to in who knew how long, and her nails were uneven from a biting habit she’d developed when Mike deployed.
Checking her watch, she kicked into gear. Kate would be there in ten minutes, and she hadn’t even put on makeup yet. She’d packed the cosmetics on a whim and thanked herself for the impulse. A little mascara, blush, and lipstick instilled a new confidence in her. When she looked in the mirror, she didn’t see the hollow-cheeked woman who’d been reflected several months ago.
Her face had filled out, and her clothes didn’t hang on her anymore. She was fairly certain she’d gained five pounds just during her Louisiana visit, but the food tasted unlike anything she’d ever had. It had been the best kind of culture shock to her taste buds. King cake topped her list of new foods she’d tried. Evan had special-ordered one from a local bakery even though they wouldn’t be in season for another month. Yesterday, she’d indulged in three slices of the cake that tasted more like a sweet bread cinnamon roll with a hint of lemon.
Evan appeared in the doorway. “Kate’s downstairs when you’re ready.”
“Can you tell her I’ll be right there?” She turned her head from the mirror and faced him. “I have to brush my hair, and then I’ll be down.”
“I’ll tell her.” Rather than move to leave, he stared at her. “You’re wearing makeup.”
“Only a little.” Something told her she needn’t have applied the blush.
“It looks good. You look good.”
“Uh…thanks.” She averted her gaze, embarrassed by the attention.
He shoved a hand in his pocket. “I’ll let Kate know.”
Once he’d left, she retrieved her brush from the counter and ran it through her hair. She’d kept it cut to above her shoulders for the last two years, but maybe it was time to change—add in layers or bangs. For today, she pulled a partial section back and fastened it with a barrette to keep it from falling into her eyes while getting her nails done.
She grabbed her purse and left the coat behind. The weather had finally warmed up to where a long-sleeved shirt would suffice. After Evan’s appreciative stare minutes ago, she needed the space more than ever and ran down the stairs to meet Kate.
Kate stood by the door next to Luke but whispered something in Evan’s ear.
He laughed then pulled on his ball cap. “Have fun. We’ll see you in a few hours.”
Luke kissed Kate, then he and Evan left out the door.
“Where are they headed?” Evan hadn’t mentioned going anywhere.
“Picking up food and decorations for tonight’s party.” Kate grimaced. “I was supposed to do it yesterday, but all the smells in the grocery store made me sick, and I had to leave.”
“Morning sickness?”
Kate nodded. “That was my first experience with it, and hopefully the last.”
“I had a friend who claimed Kool-Aid and toaster pastries helped her.”
“In all I’ve read, I’ve not seen that mentioned, but I’d be willing to try if it hits again.” Kate rubbed her stomach.
Was she conscious of the gesture? All the pregnant women she’d ever known rubbed their bellies that way. Would she ever have that opportunity?
“Uh-oh.” Kate frowned. “I’ve not been a good friend, have I?”
“You’ve been wonderful.”
“I saw your look just now.” Kate’s expression clouded over. “My talk of the baby isn’t easy, is it?”
“Don’t ever try to hide your joy over concern for me.” Janie gave her a sideways hug. “I’m excited for you. It almost feels as though my own sister is pregnant.”
A light flashed in Kate’s eyes. “You could be my sister if you and Evan married.”
“Let’s not go there.” Her warning didn’t sound as fierce as she’d meant it.
In a futile effort to avoid further questioning, she hurried outside and stood by the passenger door of Kate’s car, a sporty model she’d probably have to trade in before the baby came.
“You’re not getting off that easy.” Kate grinned and slid into the driver’s seat.
Janie got in, praying Kate wouldn’t say anything else.
No such luck.
“If you absolutely don’t want to say anything, you can tell me to shut up, but I’m curious about you and my brother.” With the car in reverse, Kate backed out of the driveway. “I bought the ‘we’re just friends’ line the first few days, but something changed after Christmas.”
Her heart rate picked up speed faster than an anvil dropped from a hundred-story building. “What do you mean?”
“You steal glances at each other when you think no one is looking, including each other.” Braking for a four-way stop, Kate continued. “But it’s a lost look, like you don’t know what you want, or are afraid to reach for it.”
She’d hit the nail on the head. On both accounts. Perhaps confiding in someone could help her sort out the jumbled nest of emotions lodged in her heart. “The honest answer is, I don’t know what’s going on between us, and something changed on Christmas night.”
“What was it?” The tone of her question implied a desire to help more than curiosity.
It convinced Janie to confide. “Since I met the guys, they’ve been like brothers to me. After Mike’s death, that bond deepened. In the last few month
s, Evan and I have grown closer, I guess because we both had more spare time than the others.”
“Understandable.”
“Even so, we were only friends. Very good friends, but that was it.” She subconsciously twisted her wedding band. “Christmas night, I don’t know how it happened.”
“How what happened?” Kate pressed gently when she didn’t continue.
“We were in the kitchen, about to take cups of hot chocolate outside and enjoy the remnants of Christmas, when we kissed.”
Kate unsuccessfully tried to hide her glee. “I knew it.”
Janie smiled, amused by Kate’s reaction, then remembered the upheaval the kiss wreaked on her emotions. “Now I’m more confused than ever. Were we just caught up in the moment? Or did it mean something?”
“You haven’t talked about it?”
“No.” She stared out the window, watching the passing homes, then businesses. “We’ve pretended it never happened.”
“My brother’s a knucklehead.” Kate scowled. “Men don’t have a clue sometimes.”
“He can’t take the sole blame. I’ve not exactly been eager to discuss it.”
“May I ask why not?”
“This.” She ran her wedding band up and down her finger. “My heart still grieves for Mike.”
Kate didn’t answer right away. “I didn’t have the pleasure of knowing Mike personally, but from the stories Evan has told me, he was a man who embraced life and wouldn’t want you alone for the rest of yours.”
“I don’t know. And with Evan? If it doesn’t work, there goes our friendship, and it means too much to me to—”
Lifting a hand from the steering wheel, Kate interrupted. “Maybe you aren’t meant to be together, but the fact is, the kiss did happen. If you don’t talk about it and figure out what you both want, it will affect your friendship.”
“It’s so awkward.”
Kate’s brow lifted. “Any less awkward than tiptoeing around the subject?”
Despite her inner conflict, Janie laughed. “You have a good point there.”
They approached the spa, and Kate drove into the parking lot, found a spot. A mischievous gleam shone on her face. “Was it a good kiss, at least?”