by Sydney Logan
“Good for you.”
“Is it?” Christian shakes her head. “Sometimes I wonder.”
“Becoming a nurse was your dream. Your husband should have supported you. I mean, I’m not an expert, but isn’t that what relationships are all about?”
“In theory. But in reality, my dream cost me my marriage. And it costs my girls every single day. It’s spring break. We should be having a good time. Instead, they are in Lexington with their father, because it’s his week. So was it really worth it? I don’t know.” Christian gazes thoughtfully at me. “You see, that’s why I was so concerned about Brandon. He fell very hard and very fast for you, and you made it clear you didn’t support his dream of becoming a soldier.”
I shake my head. “It’s not the same thing. I didn’t even know he was a soldier.”
“I know, and it was wrong of him to keep that from you. What happened when you found out?”
“Brandon didn’t tell you?”
“Brandon tells me very little. I’m apparently too opinionated.”
“Oh. Well, I kicked him out of the apartment.”
“And how long did that last?”
“Three days.”
The worst three days of my life.
Christian nods. “So now the two of you are in this weird gray area that I’m afraid is going to end exactly like I predicted from the very beginning—with my brother having his heart broken.”
I bow my head. She’s right. I’m sitting here, passing judgment on her ex-husband. But haven’t I done the exact same thing?
“I don’t want to break his heart, Christian.”
“Just the fact you’re here proves that to me. Why else would you be in these mountains on your spring break with a bitchy sister and a forgetful father if you didn’t love him? But can you love all of him? Every little part of him? Even the part that scares you to death?”
Of course I can. I already do.
“Steph, if you learn anything from this visit, I hope it’s this. Plans change. Memories fade. People leave. For every amazing thing that happens to you, there are twenty crappy things just waiting to knock the smile off your face. But you keep smiling. You keep loving. You soldier on, just like Dad says. You find joy wherever you can, and you hold on to it as tightly as possible.”
She drains her glass and sets it next to the empty bottle.
“Wow. That was either really profound or I’ve had way too much wine.”
I laugh lightly. “I think a little of both. But that doesn’t make your words any less true.”
Christian grins and rises from the table.
“I think I’m finally tired enough to sleep, Steph.”
“Me, too.”
She turns off the light, and the two of us walk upstairs. Her room is the first door on the right.
“Just so you know,” I tell her just as she steps inside her room. “I meant what I said. The last thing I want to do is break Brandon’s heart.”
“Then don’t.”
She closes the door behind her.
I walk toward my room, but my feet have a mind of their own, and they lead me to Brandon’s door. Very quietly, I turn the knob and step inside, pulling the door gently closed behind me. Moonlight streams through his curtains, illuminating his sleeping face, but the light doesn’t seem to faze him at all.
Soldiers can sleep anywhere.
Brandon’s lying on his back with his arm outstretched, and I try to resist the urge to climb in.
I fail.
Pulling back the blanket, I carefully climb into his bed, snuggling close to his side. His arm automatically wraps around me, pulling me closer. He turns slightly toward me until we’re lying face-to-face. Taking a deep breath, I ghost my finger along his dimpled cheek and think about the past few months. I think about how happy I’ve been, and how Brandon has been a part of every single second of my happiness. He loves me. Every part of me. Even the irrational, selfish part of me that could have ruined it all.
The thought makes me shake uncontrollably.
Brandon’s arm tightens around me, and his eyes snap open.
“Steph?” His voice is just a whisper.
“Hi.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Are you cold?”
I don’t answer immediately. The truth is, I was cold. And bitter. And scared.
“I’m not so cold anymore. I guess I just needed something warm and familiar.”
Brandon gazes at me with a sweet, sleepy smile on his face.
“You needed me, Steph.”
“I did need you.”
“I needed you, too.”
He doesn’t ask why I’m in his bed, and he doesn’t ask me to leave. He just tightens the blanket around us, and then we both close our eyes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Stephanie
It’s our last morning in Applewood, and it’s the third day that Brandon has skipped his five o’clock run. On the first day, we’d left early to beat the traffic on I-65. The second day we were both awakened by two adorable little girls.
And today . . . well, today is the best morning of all, because we are a tangle of gentle arms and soft blankets. We’re awake, but we haven’t said a thing.
Our lips are just too busy.
His are sliding down the column of my neck, and the soft moans coming from mine make actual words impossible. Our hands explore places they’ve never touched. Beneath shirts. Below waists. Innocent touches in not-so-innocent places, causing us to gasp with pleasure and whimper with need, leaving us shaking and breathless.
And that’s with our clothes on.
We smile goofily at each other before dissolving into quiet laughter.
Brandon throws the blanket over our heads and smothers me with kisses. “Good morning.”
“Epic understatement.”
“And that’s with pajamas. Just imagine—”
“That’s probably not a good idea.”
“Hmm. Probably not.” Brandon gently brushes his nose against mine. “Someday, though. Not today, but someday.”
“Definitely someday.”
It’s still early, so we lay and talk for a while. I tell him about my late-night chat with his sister and how we both walked away alive. His smile fades when I mention her ex-husband.
“Jordan’s not a bad guy,” Brandon says. “He just wasn’t good enough for my sister.”
“Would any guy really be good enough?”
“Probably not, but he could have tried a little harder. That’s what you do when you love somebody.”
The alarm on his phone goes off, reminding us we have responsibilities today. Christian has a twelve-hour shift at the hospital. A nurse’s aide always stays with Mr. Walker when Christian has to work, but Brandon convinced her to give the nurse the day off.
“We should get downstairs,” Brandon says.
He gives me one more toe-curling kiss and heads to the shower. Worried that we’re running late, I rush to my room and change out of my pajamas before making my way downstairs. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see Christian standing over the stove.
“Good morning, Christian.”
“Good morning. Did the warm milk help?”
The warm bed was better.
“It did. Best night of sleep I’ve had in weeks.”
“Good. Brandon awake?”
“Yeah, he’s in the shower.”
“Dad’s still sleeping . . . or he was the last time I checked. He’s usually up by eight. There are some mornings he needs help getting out of bed. Other days, he does just fine on his own. It’s a crap shoot, so have Brandon check on him.” She glances up at the kitchen clock and sighs heavily. “Dad likes two slices of lightly buttered toast with his eggs and bacon.”
“Lightly buttered toast. Got it.”
“Good, because this is almost done, and I’m running late. Don’t let it burn. It’ll just make him cranky.”
I take the sp
atula and quickly flip the bacon.
“Lightly buttered toast. Don’t burn the bacon.”
“Right. Numbers are on the fridge. Brandon has my cell.”
“We’ll be fine.”
I hope.
She thanks me and tosses a banana in her purse before rushing out the front door.
I finish breakfast, and I’m thrilled not to completely scorch the bacon or burn down the kitchen. Five minutes later, I have Mr. Webster’s two slices of lightly buttered toast waiting for him, along with his bacon and eggs. I seem to remember him liking orange juice for breakfast, so I pour a glass and set it next to his plate.
When eight o’clock arrives, I head to Mr. Walker’s room to see if he needs any help getting out of bed.”
“Mr. Wal—”
I freeze in my tracks when I see that his room is empty.
“Mr. Walker?”
I check everywhere. The downstairs bathroom. Back to the kitchen. I even check the front porch, but there’s no sign of him. I’m confident he couldn’t have climbed the stairs by himself, so I grab my jacket and rush outside, hoping to find him on the porch.
Nothing.
“Mr. Walker?”
I yell and yell, but the only sound I hear in return is Duke’s frantic bark coming from behind the house.
That’s when I remember the pond.
My heart races as I run to the back of the house. It might be spring, but the mountain air is still cold and a soft frost gently dusts the ground. In the distance, I can see Duke standing at the edge of the pond.
And I see Brandon’s dad sitting on the wooden dock.
Relief floods my veins as I run toward the water. I don’t want to frighten him, so I stop just short of the dock. Duke rushes to my side.
“Good boy,” I whisper, petting the top of his head.
Slowly, I step up onto the creaky wood. Mr. Walker looks up at me and smiles.
“Good morning, Stephanie.”
He knows my name! I sigh with relief.
“Good morning, Mr. Walker. What are you doing out here?”
“Just looking.”
“It’s pretty cold just to be looking.”
“Is it?” He seems surprised. That’s when I notice he isn’t wearing shoes.
“Mr. Walker, where are your shoes?”
He nods toward the water.
“You threw your shoes in the water?”
“She needed them.”
“Who needed them?”
“Diana.”
His wife.
“Diana loved to swim.”
His legs twitch, and I begin to panic.
I have to get him away from the water. I have to get him back to the house.
“It’s too cold to swim today, Mr. Walker.”
He nods, but I have no idea if he understands me.
“I was a bad husband, Stephanie. I should have gone swimming with her more.”
“That’s okay. Diana wouldn’t want you to swim today. It’s way too cold.”
Mr. Walker turns his head toward me.
“My son loves you.”
I’m close to tears.
“I know he does. I love him, too.”
“He’ll take care of you, Stephanie. Will you take care of him?”
“I promise I will.”
“And you’ll go swimming with him?”
Does Brandon like to swim? I have no idea. But it doesn’t matter right now.
“Yes, Mr. Walker. When the weather is warmer, I’ll be sure to go swimming with him.”
He seems satisfied with that answer as he gazes down into the water. I hear footsteps behind us. I know it’s Brandon, but I don’t dare turn around.
“Mr. Walker, I’m very cold. Would you take me back to the house?”
He tilts his head to the side. “Are you cold, Stephanie?”
My teeth chatter in response, but I know it’s not from the chill in the air.
“Yes, I am.”
“Well, then, we need to get you inside. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”
He steps away from the edge of the dock and turns toward the house. I take his left arm, and it’s only then that I let myself look at Brandon. His face is pale, and his eyes are filled with tears.
“Good morning, Brandon. We need to get Stephanie inside. She’s cold.”
I watch as Brandon takes a long, steadying breath.
“Okay, Dad. Let’s take her inside.”
Brandon moves closer to his dad and takes his arm, and the three of us walk back toward the house.
The house is too quiet. It unnerves me. A house this beautiful and big should have happy sounds and sweet smells, and it probably does when the girls are home. But today it’s too silent. Too still.
Time passes slowly when you’re waiting, and with each ticking of the clock, I grow a little more anxious. I’ve tried to keep busy. I’ve thrown out the cold breakfast, done the dishes, and mopped the floor. There’s nothing left to clean, unless I want to go upstairs and strip the beds.
I don’t.
Instead, I sit at the kitchen table and try to read the newspaper, but the words swim on the page. Duke refuses to leave my side, and I’m grateful for the company. Brandon is with his dad, and they, along with Christian and Dr. Edsall, are in the bedroom. They’ve been in there for over an hour. I have no idea what’s going on, but I don’t need a doctor’s diagnosis to know that Mr. Walker had a hallucination of his wife swimming in the pond.
And he was ready to swim with her.
My mind swirls with what ifs . . . conjuring image after horrifying image of what could have happened today.
I can’t stop shaking, despite the blanket that surrounds me.
Suddenly, I hear a door open, and seconds later, Brandon walks into the kitchen.
“Hey,” he says softly.
As soon as I hear his voice, I fall apart.
Brandon lifts me into his arms and carries me into the living room. Once we’re on the couch, I bury my face against his chest. I shake. I cry. He rocks me and murmurs sweet words that just make me cry harder.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to see me this way. I should be stronger. I want to prove to you I can handle this.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to prove anything to me.”
“I do. I absolutely do. Because this is our life now. This is our normal, and I want you to know that you can depend on me.”
“Steph, look at me.”
I lift my eyes toward his.
“You saved my father’s life today. If you hadn’t . . .”
His entire body begins to tremble, and I wrap my arms around him so the blanket covers us both.
“You saved him,” Brandon whispers, resting his forehead against mine. “You were so good with him. You knew exactly what to say. I couldn’t have done that. I couldn’t have stayed calm and collected. You did. You saved his life.”
I shake my head. “We don’t know if he would have jumped.”
“We don’t know that he wouldn’t have.” Brandon gently wipes my cheek. “Thank God we didn’t find out.”
We hold each other close. I have no idea how long we stay like that, but eventually, the bedroom door opens, and I open my eyes to find Christian and the doctor watching us closely.
“Brandon, I think Dr. Edsall should take a look at Steph.”
I wipe at my face. “No, I’m okay. Honestly. I just needed a good cry.”
“I could at least check your blood pressure?” Dr. Edsall offers. “I think it would make Christian feel a lot better.”
“I’d feel better, too,” Brandon says. “Let the doctor check you out, Steph.”
“Only if you let her check you out, too.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “Always so stubborn. Okay.”
Dr. Edsall checks our vitals. Both our blood pressures are elevated, which doesn’t surprise anyone. I refuse the light sedative she offers, so she prescribes a hot bath, a favorite book, and a good nigh
t’s sleep.
After Christian walks the doctor to the door, she returns to the living room and sits down right beside us. I’m still in Brandon’s lap. I’m warm here.
“How are you really?”
“I’m okay.”
She nods and reaches for my hand. “Steph, I want to thank you.”
“Please don’t thank me. I didn’t—”
“Don’t say you didn’t do anything. You probably saved our father from drowning. He honestly believed our mom was in the pond, and I firmly believe if you hadn’t found him, he would have jumped in. Even if he had survived the fall, he wouldn’t have survived the cold temperature, and he certainly wouldn’t have survived the water.”
“Are the hallucinations new?” Brandon asks.
“He’s only had one other that I’m aware of. It was of Mom, too. He thought he saw her sitting in the porch swing. Dr. Edsall thinks he’s harboring some deep remorse for the way he treated her. It’s just waited until now to manifest itself.”
Brandon nods. “He’s talked about her a lot the past three days. That’s unusual.”
“I mentioned that to the doctor. She thinks it’s because of the disruption of his routine. You’re here. The girls aren’t. And he met Steph. Dad recognized pretty quickly that the two of you are close. Maybe it’s reminded of him when he and Mom were young and in love. Maybe it’s a complete coincidence. We have no way of knowing.”
“Is he sleeping now?” I ask.
“Yeah. He was very relaxed during the doctor’s exam, and I know that’s because of you. Brandon told me how patient and calm you were. How you convinced him to come inside. I’m a nurse, and I don’t know if I could have handled it as well.”
“Well, I’m a mess now.”
She laughs softly. “You know what? You’ve earned the right to be a mess. Things happen at the hospital that really shake me up sometimes, but I manage to hold it together until I’m in my car. There are many times I cry all the way home. I am not Wonder Woman, and neither are you. It’s okay to be human.”