A Dangerous Leap

by Sharon Calvin

  “No, hell no. Matt told me your husband left you after the baby died. That’s all I know. Kelly, don’t walk away from me,” he said, following her as she crossed the hall to the other bedroom. Short of getting physical, he didn’t know how to stop her.

  She didn’t say another word, but simply left him standing in the hall. The quiet click of the door latching closed snapped something inside him.

  He swore and continued swearing as he tore down the stairs and out the back door. He stood on the dark porch, unseeing for several minutes. Pain, anger and frustration bubbled through his veins like nitrogen in a diver with the bends. How in the hell could someone that small create so damn much havoc in his life? He grabbed the porch railing and leaned forward, welcoming the cooling mist that covered his face.

  “I don’t think jumping off a three-foot porch will constitute a suicide attempt,” his mother said from behind him.

  Ian whirled. “Holy shit, you scared the crap out of me.”

  “I see your mouth needs a good scrubbing,” she said and handed him a steaming mug. “Here, drink this, then maybe you can explain why there are two women in tears because of you.”

  He took the mug and gulped the too hot liquid and immediately choked on it. “This…could…constitute a murder…attempt,” he said between coughs. “What the hell—heck—did you put in here?”

  His mother chuckled and patted his arm. “Nothing but a goodly dose of Irish Whiskey. Now what’s this nonsense about Cara ruining your wedding?”

  Ian shook his head. Had he wandered into another dimension or fallen down a rabbit hole where nothing made sense any longer? He held out his hand to stall his mother and took a fortifying sip. Lord, she made strong Irish coffee.

  “How did Cara get involved?” He couldn’t imagine Kelly confiding in his sister, no matter how upset she had been when she’d shut him out.

  “Apparently she mentioned something about you and Kelly marrying and how perfect you were for each other. Nothing more than typical Cara exuberance, I’m sure. Now she’s worried because she heard you two arguing, and Kelly is quietly crying and pretending not to be.”

  Ian groaned and scrubbed his face with one hand. How in the hell could he work anything out with Kelly if she refused to talk about it with him?

  “Drink your coffee. If you want to tell me what’s going on, I’ll listen. If I find out you’ve hurt that girl upstairs, you’ll be eating Thanksgiving dinner at someone else’s house this year.”

  In the middle of another swallow, Ian choked again. His mother hadn’t threatened to exclude him from a holiday meal since he’d been ten or twelve years old. He set his mug on the porch railing and opened his arms to her. Love swamped him as they hugged. And it occurred to him that Kelly had more in common with his mother than she imagined.

  “Mom, I don’t have a clue if I hurt her or not. She’s so damn private, and in control, she won’t talk about the important things. Now she wants to call it quits because she says she’ll never marry me.”

  God, he sounded like an adolescent breaking up with his first steady girlfriend.

  “Honey, she’s hurting. Even your father noticed that at the service tonight.”

  Ian leaned his butt against the railing. Val noticing anything, especially a woman’s emotions, said a lot for Kelly’s transparency.

  “Did she lose a child?”

  Startled by her observation, he could only gape.

  She patted his hand. “Yes, Cara heard part of your argument, but I also saw the way Kelly held Teodora’s baby. She had a look of heart-breaking longing.”

  He leaned back, letting the drizzle soak his shirt. He’d seen the same expression on Kelly when she’d watched Collin and Riley. What good was knowing she wanted children, if she refused to even consider marriage? “If she wants a child so badly, why does she deny herself even the possibility of one? I don’t get it.”

  “It makes perfect sense, given what Brendan said about her childhood. Maybe for her, to love is to lose. I doubt she had any intention of falling in love when she agreed to go out with you.”

  Ian snorted. “No problem there, she’s as immune to me as she is to love.”

  Moreen chuckled again and shook her head. “Then you’re blind. That girl’s so in love with you it almost hurts to watch. Now I’m going to do something I’ve managed to avoid with all my children. But for you, I’ll make an exception.”

  That was a scary prospect. His mother’s exceptions tended to be drastic. He eyed her warily. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

  “For the sake of my future grandchildren, I’m going to stick my nose into your love life.”

  Ian stepped forward, grabbing her by the shoulders. “No you don’t, the last thing Kelly needs is for a stranger to go poking into her life.”

  The dim light didn’t hide the wide smile she gave him. “Sweetie, I’m exactly what Kelly needs.”

  He arched his brows. “Why does she need you?”

  Moreen gave a heartfelt sigh. “Because I’m a mother,” she said softly. “And I think Kelly needs a mother more than anything.”

  * * *

  Kelly flopped onto her back. How dare he mention her baby? He didn’t know a damn thing about Miranda or her marriage, for that matter. He had no business bringing it up, or thinking he knew anything about how she felt about it.

  Really? Hadn’t she claimed to love him just yesterday? Of course, she’d waited until after he’d disconnected the call to say it. She sat up and punched her pillow, thankful Cara had left her alone. The last thing she needed was a witness to her mental breakdown. Jeez, she couldn’t keep up with her own arguments, how could she possibly—

  A soft knock on the door halted her internal rant. Ignore or answer? The door opened, effectively taking the decision away from her.

  She froze in place. Moreen stood in the doorway, her slight figure illuminated by the nightlight in the hall. Kelly’s heart bounced wildly about in her chest. Would she demand Kelly leave now?

  “Good, you’re awake,” Moreen said and stepped into the room. “You don’t mind if I come in do you?”

  “No, of course not.” Kelly drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. She doubted Moreen would have been dissuaded had she said she minded the intrusion.

  Moreen made herself at home, sitting on the bed near Kelly’s feet. Her nearness didn’t feel particularly unsettling, as Kelly would have expected. If anything, her presence comforted.

  “I know I shouldn’t butt in, but when one of my children is upset—”

  “I’m sorry, I know I hurt Ian,” Kelly interjected, feeling lower than dirt. Heck, Val would be escorting her out the front door any minute now. She had no doubt the Razzamenti family would stick together.

  Moreen shocked her by chuckling. “Ian? Goodness, I’m not concerned about him,” she said, waving her hand. “No, Cara’s worried about you. She thought you were crying and that she’d caused it all. As the baby of the family, she tends to believe the world revolves around her. Naturally, that means she influences all those circling bodies as well.”

  She chuckled again and patted Kelly’s sheet-covered feet. “You act more like an only.”

  Warmth spread through Kelly at Moreen’s simple touch. Ian’s family was big on physical contact like that. She hadn’t experienced so much touching and personal-space encroachment since she’d lived in the Middle East. She relaxed and settled her chin on her knees. “What’s an ‘only’?”

  “An only child—a rarity in my family tree, or Val’s for that matter. You’re used to being self-sufficient and strong. Strong, the Razzamentis and Sullivans know all about, but self-sufficiency, now that’s a concept more likely to cause problems.”

  Moreen cocked her head to one side. “Ian’s a rather typical middle child—a peace keeper if you
will. He wants everyone to play nice and get along. He’s also very big on being needed. My guess is, your not needing him is driving him a little crazy.” Her smile waned.

  Unease tickled Kelly’s consciousness. There was more to Moreen’s simple visit than a discussion on birth order.

  “Kelly, I didn’t come up here to talk about your relationship with my son. Cara overheard something private, and being a mother, I’m compelled by nature to interfere.”

  Her self-deprecating humor didn’t fool Kelly one bit, the woman was on a mission. Kelly tightened her arms around her legs and mentally manned her battle stations.

  “What was your baby’s name?” Moreen asked softly.

  An involuntary whimper stunned Kelly. Heat flashed over her body, bathing her in prickly sweat and embarrassment.

  Moreen’s reaction was just as instantaneous. She moved to Kelly’s side and wrapped her arms around her. “Oh, Kelly, you mustn’t keep all that pain buried inside.”

  Maybe it was her tone of voice, or the experienced way she held her that crumbled Kelly’s normal defenses. “Miranda…her name…was Miranda,” she heard herself say between sobs.

  She couldn’t remember if her own mother had ever held her like that, rocking and whispering soft words of comfort to her, but it felt so natural, so necessary, she slipped her arms around Moreen and held on. Quite possibly for the first time in her life, Kelly cried without shame. It felt…cathartic.

  “That kind of pain needs to be shared. I don’t know what I would have done without Val’s strength, or the children’s sweet comfort,” Moreen said.

  Confused, Kelly pulled back, trying to read Moreen’s expression in the darkness. “I…do you mean…you…?”

  Moreen smoothed Kelly’s hair from her forehead. “Yes, Val and I lost two of our babies. Ian was just four when Devin was born. He was premature and only lived a few weeks. If not for Val and all my other children comforting, as well as needing me, I’m not sure I could have survived it.

  “Our very last child came two years after little Cara was born. Adriana died of an inoperable brain tumor just before her first birthday.”

  Tears flowed down Kelly’s cheeks unabated. She covered her mouth with a shaking hand to stop another sob from escaping.

  “Oh, Kelly, I’m not telling you about my babies to make you cry. The reason I can talk about Devin and Adriana is because I celebrated their lives as much as I mourned their deaths. The worst thing you can do to yourself and Miranda’s memory is to deny her.”

  What Moreen went through had been so much worse than what Kelly had experienced. “I… Miranda wasn’t mine. God, I wasn’t her real mother. I only adopted her. Her mother, her real mother, died giving birth to her and, and I feel like an imposter.”

  Kelly hadn’t gone through nine months of fear, anticipation and love like a birth mother would have. How could she possibly know what that kind of pain felt like?

  Moreen tsked and patted Kelly’s hand. “You think because she was adopted you loved her less, that somehow her loss was less because you didn’t give birth to her? She was the child of your heart, wasn’t she?”

  Kelly nodded.

  “Don’t lock her away. Open your heart and share her life as well as her death, but don’t pretend it never happened. Now it’s late, you should try and get some sleep. But if you ever need to talk about Miranda, or goodness honey, anything else, I want you to call me. I mean that Kelly, this has nothing to do with Ian, this is between us mothers.”

  After Moreen left, Kelly stretched out on the bed, her mind struggling with her heart. Had she made things worse by refusing to admit how much she’d loved Miranda? Even denying in so many ways that she had been a mother? Cara quietly slipped into the room, and Kelly, too drained emotionally to talk anymore, feigned sleep. Two hours later, wide-awake with memories of Miranda, her failed marriage, and Ian careening around her head, Kelly tried to imagine risking her heart once more.

  Maybe it was like her first jump out of a helicopter. All she’d needed was a deep breath and a leap of faith.

  * * *

  By dawn, people were stirring in the house. Kelly estimated she’d slept all of an hour sometime between oh-three-thirty and oh-five-hundred.

  She zipped into and out of the bathroom, knowing the other women would need more time to get ready. With no conscious effort on her part, she avoided running into Ian. Would he still be mad at her? Last night he’d certainly looked like he could have taken a bite out of a Jayhawk’s rotor.

  Kelly slipped into jeans and a tank top, listening with one ear to Cara and a couple of her cousins chattering in the bathroom across the hall. Between the whir of a hairdryer and the hooting laughter, she heard her name. Startled out of her own thoughts, she looked up.

  “I don’t think it’s right, a woman doing that kind of job. I heard Brendan telling his dad about how she was on the news, that she could have been killed during that drug raid.”

  Kelly rolled her eyes. She didn’t recognize the young voice, but she did recognize the snotty tone.

  “You think she’ll quit when she marries Ian?” someone else asked.

  Back to that marriage thing. Well, at least she’d be settling that little issue for everyone. A flutter of regret accompanied that thought. God, should she really consider marriage, even children? After talking with Moreen last night, she almost felt tempted. And a little shaky, but she wasn’t running to the toilet to throw up. Moreen must have cast some sort of spell on her last night to have her thinking like that in the light of day.

  “Well of course she’d have to quit her job.”

  Kelly raised an eyebrow over that while silently mouthing, “Like hell I would.”

  “Why would she?” Cara asked, winning a smile of approval from Kelly.

  “Ian wants lots of babies, that’s why. He’s always talked about having a big family. You think she’ll be jumping out of helicopters when she’s pregnant? Or that Ian would even let her?” Snotty Voice said.

  A knot formed in Kelly’s stomach. How would her career affect a daughter or son? Would a child feel toward her the way she had her own mother—always an afterthought, or worse, not wanted, a burden?

  The reality of her job demands and the responsibility of raising a child coalesced into a vortex of emotions. If she gave up her career for a family, how long would it take before she resented her children, or Ian? Acid churned in her empty stomach. Double-damn-son-of-a-bitch, what had she been thinking to even consider it?

  Kelly grabbed her canvas bag and began packing with renewed vigor. Ian would be happier with a woman that wanted the same things he did. Someone like Penny, or Moreen, real mothers that wouldn’t put a career first and resent their children for making demands on their time and emotions.

  It took her a moment before she recognized the buzzing sound of her cell phone vibrating on the nightstand. She’d switched the ringer to vibrate during the rosary service and forgotten to change it back. She snatched it up.

  “Bishop,” she answered.

  “Kelly, I hate to bother you, but they’ve chopped our air support to Savannah. They’re doing round the clock flood evacuations and need air crews ASAP,” Caitlyn said.

  Kelly heard the excitement, the urgency, and her body responded immediately with a rush. If she’d had any lingering doubts, here was her answer—this is what she did, who she was. And why she had no business considering anything else.

  Kelly contacted another swimmer who’d gone surfing on Cocoa Beach and arranged for him to pick her up on his way to Clearwater. She tried to ignore the small voice that called her a coward. She’d failed at being a wife and mother before, hadn’t she? “I am what I am,” she muttered to herself. She was the best of the best, a Coast Guard rescue swimmer and paramedic, not a mother or wife.

  * * *

  Ian w
as furious. His mother had refused to tell him what she and Kelly had talked about the night before. He certainly didn’t like the sad look that came over her when she thought no one was watching, either. Had she told Kelly about her own losses? That would certainly explain the sad look. He had no idea how Kelly would react to his mother’s intrusion on something so private.

  “Take this out to the table,” Val said, handing him a platter of bacon and sausage. “Did anyone think to put a timer in the upstairs bathroom?”

  Ian smiled as he carried the food to the dining room. His father had mandated strict time limits on bathrooms when they were growing up. The clatter of high heels, clogs and sandals announced the girls’ descent from upstairs. Would Kelly be with them, or would she keep herself separate from the group?

  Would she go through with her planned announcement? Maybe he should preempt her. Or did he hope she’d rethink the idea given the circumstances of the family’s gathering?

  Assorted aunts and uncles were already seated in the dining room. Brendan’s family arrived the same time the girls sorted themselves into groups around the table. Tension filled his gut. Still no Kelly.

  “Ian, where’s your girl?” an uncle asked.

  He smiled and shrugged a shoulder. “Must have slept in,” he said, knowing she wouldn’t have done any such thing. He sat down next to Cara and she leaned over to him.

  “I’m sorry about last night, I—”

  “Kelly, what’s with the bag?” Val asked, interrupting Cara’s apology.

  Ian looked up and his heart sank. Kelly stood in the doorway, her bag slung over her shoulder, and her plastic smile firmly in place. Shit, she was going to make her announcement and get the hell out.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to leave. They’ve reallocated our helicopters to an air station in Georgia because of the flooding up there. Air crews have been called back to duty.”

  Her gaze circled the room but skipped over Ian. He stood and walked toward her as she thanked his family for their hospitality. Finally she looked at him and her smile trembled. He took a deep breath. Hell, he’d survived the humiliation of one failed “engagement,” this one couldn’t be any worse.