Book Read Free

Anything for Danny

Page 9

by Carla Cassidy


  Strange, he'd never looked back, had felt no regret until the last couple of days. Being with Sherri and Danny had filled a void he hadn't realized was there.

  Family. He'd once wanted one, and yet when he'd had one, he hadn't nurtured it, hadn't appreciated it. He'd made choices that had excluded them, lived a lifestyle that didn't include them.

  Each time he'd gone on assignment, when he returned home he was met with Sherri's accusing silence. She didn't like him traveling. She didn't like the days and weeks of being left alone. She nagged at him to open his own studio and change the direction of his career.

  He'd responded by taking longer assignments, finding one excuse after another to stay away from home and the unhappiness in her eyes. He'd retreated from her and her unhappiness had deepened. Finally, he realized they were in a self-destructive pattern that he didn't know how to fix.

  The divorce had been his idea, but she hadn't fought him on it. They were softly killing each other, and both knew it. He'd packed his bags and moved out, certain that splitting up was the kindest thing he could do for both of them.

  For the first time since their divorce, Luke faced his own culpability in their breakup. He realized that even though Sherri's neediness had been overwhelming, his own choices had merely intensified her insecurities.

  Since the time of their divorce, it had been easy to blame Sherri, to tell himself that no matter how hard he tried, he could never fill the bottomless pit of need that Sherri possessed. But the truth was…he'd never really tried. When he'd felt inadequate or suffocated, he'd taken another job and flown off to some distant country and the work he knew he excelled at.

  And now it's too late, he told himself as their R.V. came into view. Now there was too much history between him and Sherri, too much fear in attempting what had already been proven impossible.

  At least he had the comfort of knowing that maybe, if they played it just right, they could regain footing with each other and wind up as good friends. What he didn't understand was why this thought didn't fill him with happiness…it only made him vaguely depressed.

  "Home again, home again," he said, shoving his thoughts away as he swung Danny down from his shoulders.

  "Jiggety-jig," Danny completed the phrase from the nursery rhyme.

  "We'll eat a little lunch, then we can all relax for the rest of the afternoon," Sherri said as they stepped into the warmer air inside the motor home.

  They ate a lunch of bologna sandwiches, then Danny decided to take a nap. Sherri and Luke moved outside to sit in the lounge chairs and rest in the shade provided by a small grove of trees.

  Luke watched as Sherri opened a book she'd brought with her and began to read. The sun peeked through the leaves of the trees overhead and dappled her features in soft shades of gold. She was wrapped up in a blanket against the cold breeze and her cheeks were rosy-hued by the cool air. He could tell she was completely at ease by the even breathing that caused her breasts to gently rise and fall beneath the cover of the blanket.

  He envied her the tranquillity she obviously felt. He was anything but tranquil. His thoughts of the past, of their marriage, gave him no peace. He somehow felt that in order to firmly put her and their past behind—it had to be discussed.

  He sat up and leaned toward her, suddenly feeling that it was extremely important to tell her he was sorry…sorry that it hadn't worked out…sorry that they hadn't been capable of filling each other's needs. It seemed crazy, but after all this time, he felt he owed her an apology.

  "Sherri?"

  "Hmm?" She didn't look up from her book. She turned a page and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes.

  He cleared his throat, searching for the right words…words that were suddenly difficult. Admitting fault was always difficult. He'd never been one to find apologies easy. "Sherri, would you put your book down for a minute? I want to talk to you."

  She closed the novel and looked at him curiously. "About what?"

  "About our marriage."

  Her look of surprise was instantly followed with one of wariness. "What's to talk about? It's long over, part of the past. Nothing is to be gained by rehashing it."

  "Perhaps, but this is important. Today while we were walking back, I suddenly realized how much at fault I was in our problems." He frowned, realizing that finding the right words was much more difficult than he'd expected. "This afternoon, I had a sudden moment of self-examination and what I saw wasn't very pleasant…. I guess what I want to say is that I'm sorry."

  "Sorry?" She looked at him blankly, as if the word were foreign to her vocabulary.

  He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry that so many of the choices I made when we were married were selfish ones, that I allowed my desire to be a successful and famous photographer to outweigh my need for you and Danny and our life together. I'm sorry that instead of meeting your needs, I ran away from them."

  Sherri smiled, a soft, almost wistful smile that attacked Luke's senses, made him want to reach out and touch her, take her in his arms and love her. Instead, he gripped the edges of the chair tightly, effectively checking the impulse. "There was a time when I would have been grateful to hear those words from you, when I would have encouraged you to think of yourself as a selfish bastard who had destroyed our marriage."

  She set her book on the ground and sat up, as if needing to face him on an equal level. "Unfortunately, through time and a year's worth of therapy, I've realized that I was every bit as much at fault as you were for the problems we had in our marriage."

  "You went for therapy?" he asked in surprise, wondering what else he didn't know about this woman who'd once been his wife. He smiled crookedly. "I knew there were times I drove you crazy, but I didn't realize I'd driven you that crazy."

  "Don't flatter yourself," she replied wryly. "I think I was crazy long before I married you." She stared off in the distance, folding her hands together in her lap. He suddenly remembered how she'd always entwined her fingers when she was thinking or stressed. "Luke, I came into the marriage damaged goods, with enough needs and insecurities to form a good-sized mountain. At the time, I didn't realize just how much my parents' alcoholism had affected me. I should have been getting help then, when I was living that nightmare, but I didn't. I married you when I was half a person, and expected you to make me whole. It took a while for me to realize that I had to make myself whole." She looked at him, her gaze clear and calm.

  "You've grown up," Luke said, admiration for her newfound strength fluttering inside him.

  She smiled. "I'm getting there. I have moments of regression, but for the most part I'm definitely getting there."

  "I'm proud of you," Luke observed, noting the way her eyes darkened with pleasure at his words. "But I still can't help but wonder if things would have been different between us if I'd tried to fill those needs of yours instead of flying off into the sunset to escape them."

  "Luke, nobody could have filled my needs." She leaned back in the chair, her gaze still warm as it lingered on him. "Perhaps our marriage and divorce were meant to happen. Without them, I might never have learned to depend on myself for my own happiness. One of the nice things that came out of our divorce was that I've realized I really don't need anyone anymore. If and when I decide to get into a relationship again, it will be because I want it…not because I need it." She closed her eyes and raised her face to the late-afternoon sun, as if to signal to him that the discussion was over.

  "So am I to gather from your last statement that you aren't presently in a relationship with anyone?" It felt odd, asking her about other men. But it suddenly seemed important that he find out. He needed to know there was no other man in her life.

  "I date occasionally, but nobody special." She cracked an eyelid and looked at him. "What about you?"

  "The same." It was his turn to smile wryly. "At least nobody can accuse us of rebounding into other marriages. I guess our experience soured us on the institution of wedded bliss."


  His words caused her to sit up once again. "I'm not soured on marriage," she protested. "I'm merely more cautious, and certainly more realistic in my expectations." She reached out for his hand. Hers was cool and dry, making him realize that his was clammy and hot.

  She squeezed his fingers, then released him and stretched out on the lounge chair. "Actually, I should probably thank you for our divorce. I'm a much healthier person now than I was when we got married." She cast him another smile, then once again closed her eyes and raised her face to the sun.

  He stared at her for a long moment, noticing vaguely how the afternoon sun had beckoned freckles to appear across the bridge of her nose. Her hair was splayed across the green webbing of the lounger, looking like variegated strands of silk.

  She looked like the woman he had married years before…and yet he realized that the woman she had grown to be was a virtual stranger to him…stronger, with new depths, a person he wanted to get to know all over again.

  * * *

  Sherri didn't realize she'd fallen asleep until she jerked awake with a start. For a moment, she stared around her, disoriented as to time and place. The sun was sinking in the distance, splashing the sky like a painter's canvas. The coming of night and the absence of the sun had brought a winter chill to the air. The chair where Luke had been sitting was vacant and lights were on in the R.V. and radiated into the golden twilight that surrounded her.

  She should go inside and see what the guys were up to, but she remained in the chair, thinking back over the conversation she and Luke had just had before she'd fallen asleep.

  It was strange how talking about their mistakes, acknowledging their own foibles and accepting responsibility for them had eased the tension that had been ever-present since they'd begun this trip.

  Somehow, she felt that in discussing their divorce, they had finally begun the healing process. It was a good feeling. If she couldn't give Danny what he wanted most—a reconciliation between herself and Luke—it would be nice if they could at least give him the pleasure of his parents being friends. And for the first time since their divorce, she thought perhaps a friendship with Luke was possible.

  If she could just forget the memories of their lovemaking, refuse to think about the edge of passion that still stirred in her heart for him, then perhaps a real friendship would be possible.

  She looked back at the R.V., the lights calling to her like welcoming candles on a dark and stormy night. She pulled herself up and out of the lounge chair, eager to go inside and share the evening with the two men in her life.

  "Mom, we're fixing supper," Danny greeted her as she stepped inside.

  Sherri stared at Danny and Luke, for a moment speechless as she took in the incredible chaos of the kitchen area. The front of Danny's shirt was splattered with what she hoped was tomato sauce and not blood, and a tiny piece of green pepper clung to the side of his nose. "We're making homemade pizza," Danny announced proudly.

  "It looks like you're making a big mess," Sherri observed. She stifled a grin as she looked at Luke, his shirt also decorated with sauce and with a piece of mozzarella cheese hanging from his dark hair.

  "I know…I know, pizza is not on your menu for tonight." Luke looked at her expectantly.

  Sherri smiled. "True, but that's only because I didn't know you knew how to make pizza." She sat down and stared at the mess.

  "We'll clean up afterward," Luke promised, holding up one hand in Boy Scout fashion. "It takes quite a mess to make a world-class pizza."

  "You need any help?" Sherri asked.

  "Nope, you just sit right there and watch the master chefs at work," Luke instructed. Sherri watched in amazement as Luke and Danny got back to business.

  "What do we do now, Dad?" Danny asked, patting the doughy crust he'd been shaping on the pizza pan.

  "Now it's time for our special sauce," Luke said, indicating the pan warming on the stove. "This recipe happens to be one handed down in my family from generation to generation."

  "Then how come you read it out of the cookbook?" Danny asked with a giggle.

  "Shh," Luke hissed as if warning Danny not to give away their secrets. Danny's delighted giggles continued, filling the R.V. with merriment as the two males cooked up their world-class pizza.

  It was almost an hour later that Sherri realized nothing made food taste better than the accompaniment of laughter. And there was plenty of it. Luke and Danny worked like a comedy team, causing tears of mirth to course down Sherri's cheeks. Oh, it was good…so good to share laughter with the two of them. Sherri's heart was warmer, fuller than it had been in years.

  They lingered at the table long after the whole pizza had been consumed. The feeling of rightness…of family was so strong it seemed to vibrate in the air, an almost tangible force she knew Luke and Danny felt, too. It was magic, the combination of people, place and time that would probably never again be repeated.

  Despite Luke's protests, Sherri joined into the cleaning-up process, wanting to be a part of the fun, wishing the night would last forever.

  After the kitchen was clean, Danny suggested a game of Monopoly. The pleasant mood and laughter continued as they haggled over real estate. Luke blatantly cheated, moving extra spaces to avoid paying rents or to land on property he wanted to purchase. Sherri and Danny caught him each time and shamed him into obeying the rules.

  It was finally Danny who brought the evening to an end. "I don't feel so good," he said as he rubbed his tummy with one hand.

  Sherri looked at her watch and gasped. It was nearly midnight. They'd been having so much fun, she'd lost all track of the time. "No wonder you don't feel well," she exclaimed, rising from the table. "It's way past your bedtime. You must be exhausted."

  "It's even past my bedtime," Luke replied, picking up the game pieces and putting them away.

  Sherri bustled Danny to the bedroom area where she watched as he changed into his pajamas. When he'd crawled into the upper bunk, she tucked him in and eyed him worriedly. "I shouldn't have let you stay up so late."

  "It's okay," he said, his hand making small circles on his stomach. "I think maybe I just ate too much of Dad's world-famous pizza."

  Sherri placed a hand on his forehead, relieved to find it cool, without fever. "Is it just your tummy?"

  He nodded. "I feel like I might throw up. But if I stay real still, I think it will be okay." He hesitated a moment, then continued. "Mom, I'd really feel better if I could sleep all by myself. Can't Dad sleep with you just for tonight…please?"

  "Danny, that's just not possible." Sherri's nerve endings sizzled at the very thought of sharing her bed with Luke.

  She'd managed quite nicely all evening to keep her thoughts of him pleasant and friendly without crossing into dangerous, more intimate thoughts. But the thought of sharing a bed with him definitely filled her mind with dangerous, sizzling thoughts.

  "Why?" Danny persisted. "These beds are plenty big enough for you both. Please, Mama, I just want to sleep by myself."

  Sherri was torn. Danny had always been the type of child who wanted to be left completely alone when he was ill. Still…"Danny…I'm sorry but—"

  "Don't worry, son," Luke spoke quietly from behind Sherri. "You can have the bed to yourself for tonight. I know what it's like when you don't feel like sharing your space."

  Sherri turned and looked at him in astonishment. He carefully kept his gaze averted from hers. He stepped around her and gave Danny a smacking kiss on the forehead. "Sleep well, little man."

  "Thanks, big man," Danny said softly.

  Luke touched Sherri on the shoulder and indicated that she follow him to the front of the R.V. He immediately held up his hands to still anything she might say. "You can take that panicked look off your face, Sherri," he said dryly. He moved over to the kitchen table. "Don't most of these somehow lower to make extra sleeping space?" He bent beneath the table.

  Sherri expelled a breath of relief. She should have known that Luke had something in mind. Surely
he was as averse to sharing a bed with her as she was to sharing one with him.

  She bent down beneath the table, frowning as she saw the way the table was installed. "It's been customized. It doesn't turn into a bed," she said flatly. "So now what, Mr. Know-it-all?"

  Luke grinned. "Then I guess I'll just have to share your bed."

  Sherri snapped up with a jerk, bumping her head with a thud against the underside of the table. "Ouch! Don't be ridiculous," she exclaimed. She sat on a chair and rubbed her head.

  Luke joined her, sitting near her, the small smile still curving his lips upward. "Sherri, I'm asking to sleep next to you, not with you. We're both relatively reasonable and rational adults. Surely we can share the bed space without any problems, unless…" His grin widened.

  "Unless what?" She stopped rubbing her head. Her heart began a rapid thud, banging painfully against her rib cage. "Unless what?" she repeated, her mouth unaccountably dry.

  He reached out and lightly traced the veins in the back of her hand with the tips of his fingers, the touch causing a shiver of pleasure to rush through her. "Unless you're afraid."

  She snatched her hand away from his evocative touch. "What could I possibly be afraid of?"

  He shrugged, his gaze lingering like white heat on her face, then dropping down to caress the rise and fall of her breasts. "Maybe you're afraid that by lying next to me, you'll be overwhelmed with lust and you'll take advantage of me while I'm asleep."

  She snorted derisively. "That's the last thing in the world I'm worried about." She flushed and looked away, trying not to remember how he looked in his boxers, trying not to think of the appeal of his naked flesh.

  His grin widened. "I thought maybe you were worried that my proximity might overwhelm your senses and cause you to do something foolish. It was always remarkably good between us."

  "Only in your dreams would I do something that foolish," she scoffed.

  "Ah, in my dreams you are a veritable sex goddess who can't get enough of me." His grin was definitely wicked.

  "You are the most obnoxious man I've ever known."

 

‹ Prev