by Kim Law
He liked that she wanted to help out. And he liked watching how hard she was focusing to be sure and get things just right.
“I’ll buy you one if you want,” he offered, and she laughed.
“Given the amount of stuff currently crammed into this house due to you, I believe that you would. But no, thank you.” She peeked over at him. “I’ve outgrown playing with dolls.”
He caught himself doing nothing more than smiling at her and forced himself back to the task at hand. He held a tiny piano between two fingers that needed legs attached.
He’d shown up a couple of hours before, laden down with takeout food and the dollhouses. He needed to work on them here or they wouldn’t be finished in time for Christmas, and Maggie had loved the idea. It also gave them something to do in the event his being here felt awkward. So far it hadn’t.
“How was work this week?” Maggie had pulled the backing off another piece of wallpaper and was concentrating intently on lining it up. “Were they glad to have you back?”
“Yeah,” he answered. They had been glad to see him. They’d also watched him like a hawk. Waiting to see if he’d yell at anyone again. He’d turned away a patient six weeks ago when she’d tried to come in after closing. She’d claimed lower right abdominal pain. He’d been the only doctor still in the office, and he’d had their receptionist, Angie, suggest she needed to go to the nearest ER if the pain persisted. Then he hadn’t thought anything else about it.
That patient had died from sepsis that weekend. With a ruptured appendix.
And he hadn’t slept well since.
He had managed not to lose his cool at the office that week, though. And it had been surprisingly easy. He still had the dream more nights than not, but something about it didn’t leave him feeling as frightened anymore. Also, he had other things on his mind these days. Things that made him happy.
Maggie sat back in her seat. “Do you wish we were having a girl?”
The question surprised him. “Of course not. Dad is over the moon that he’s going to have a grandson.”
“Yeah, but how does this dad feel?” She pointed at him as she said “this dad,” and his heart thumped.
“This dad is thrilled.” With everything, he wanted to add. He was simply thrilled to be having a baby. And he didn’t know how that had happened. Two weeks ago, he’d found out he’d gotten her pregnant, and he’d been certain his world couldn’t get any worse. The job he’d worked so hard for was being threatened; a baby would be hanging over his head. He’d just wanted his world to return to the way it had always been. But then he’d felt his son kick.
And then he’d gone back by the hospital and held Nick and Harper’s twins in his arms.
And he hadn’t been able to think of anything other than his own baby since.
Well, he did think about Maggie. Probably too often, in fact. He almost wished things could be different between them. His coming to her place tonight had, strangely, felt like coming home. And he wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. He was glad to be here, though. With her. It felt good, and he’d looked forward to getting back here all week.
“What are we going to name him?” That had also been in his head a lot that week.
Maggie grinned. “I wondered how long it would take you to bring that up.” She rose from the table, putting her hands to her lower back. “I hadn’t decided yet.” She leaned back, stretching out her spine. “Have you had any thoughts?”
He’d had a lot of thoughts. “Are you okay?” he asked instead of sharing any name ideas. “Is your back hurting?” He rose, as well.
“I just need to sit some other way for a while. I can’t bend over like that for very long.”
“Let’s go to the living room.” He could work on the furniture anytime. “You probably need to put your feet up anyway.”
She chuckled wryly. “I always need to put my feet up.”
They made their way into the adjoining space, and as he’d done when he’d first arrived that evening, he took in the changes that had been made to the place since the first time he’d been there. Along with the floors being refinished, a soft gray hue had replaced the faded tan color that had been on the walls, and a Christmas tree sat decorated in the corner. Lights had also been strung across the porch and glowed in through the closed blinds of the front windows. She’d told him that Mason had hung the lights for her last weekend, as well as helped her put up the tree.
“The floors look amazing,” he offered. “As does the fireplace.” The fireplace mantle had been replaced with a simple rustic wooden block of wood instead of the original, more ornate frame.
“Thank you.” She lowered to the couch with a weary sigh. “I’d planned on trying to refinish the floors myself. I’d been looking forward to it, in fact.”
“I remember.” He’d helped her pull up the carpet when he’d been there before, and she’d talked about everything she’d read regarding how to refinish floors. “I guess it would be harder to do once the baby is here.”
“Exactly.” She nudged her head toward the couch cushion beside her, and he realized he still stood. “Grab the remote if you want to watch a movie or something.” She patted her belly. “Now that I’m down, I don’t want to get back up.”
“I’d love to watch a movie.” He snagged the remote off the coffee table and sat down next to her.
Scrolling through the movies available with her streaming service, they decided on a comedy, and before he let himself think too hard about what he was doing, he had Maggie stretched out on the couch with her head resting on his thigh. She’d turned on her side so she could see the TV and wasn’t looking at him. But he watched her.
This could be different.
He did his best to ignore the voice, but it persisted.
She could be different.
He didn’t want to believe that. What if he let himself wish for more and she did turn out like his mom? What if she treated their son the way that patient had treated hers? Always parading them around to show the world what a great little family they were, yet never once paying attention to them.
He didn’t want that for himself, and he didn’t want it for his son.
This could be different, his subconscious said again, right as Maggie shifted to snuggle in just a little bit closer.
He reached out his arm and rested it over her side, his hand wrapping around to the front of her belly, and she turned her head to smile up at him. “Thank you for keeping the SUV,” he told her. They’d talked about it several times over the past week, and she’d finally relented. Her keeping it made him feel better, knowing she would be safer when he couldn’t be here.
“Thank you for wanting me to have it.” Her lashes dipped briefly, and he could see the pulse point in her neck pounding rapidly. “And thank you for coming over tonight. I’m really glad you’re here.”
He was glad, too. He didn’t say it, though. He was too busy telling himself not to fall for this woman.
“Mom.” Cord said his mother’s name again, and the deputy who’d been first on scene stepped toward him.
The deputy held out a hand. “You’re one of Mrs. Wilde’s sons, right? Cord, is it?”
“Yes.”
Cord held up his own hand, stopping the officer from saying anything more, and shrugged away from the man’s touch. The sheriff’s car pulled to a stop at Cord’s side.
“Cord?” the sheriff called as he stepped from the cruiser, but Cord picked up speed.
“You need to stay back.”
Cord heard the words, and once again, when a hand landed on his arm, he shrugged it away. He did not need to stay back. He had to hurry. There was no time to waste.
He started running, but he couldn’t pick up speed. Everything moved in slow motion.
Finally . . . somehow . . . he reached the SUV. The door stood open. Only, the vehicle color was no longer dark red. It had changed to black.
“Mom?” he asked, but he didn’t go to the door. Something
was wrong with this dream. This wasn’t right.
He looked back to the other side of the road. The pregnant lady still sat in her car. It was still Bailey. Not Maggie. The dream was back to normal. Only . . . he turned back to the SUV. The color was wrong.
“Maggie,” he whispered. It couldn’t be her in there.
“Help me, Cord.”
“Maggie!” He lunged toward the vehicle, but once again, his feet wouldn’t move. “Maggie!”
“Cord?” Maggie roused herself awake, hearing her name whispered in the room. Where was she?
She blinked into the darkness, the Christmas tree and the muted colors shining through the front blinds the only light in the room. She was still on the couch. Still curled up next to Cord.
“Maggie!”
She jerked upright as he yelled and immediately reached out to shake him.
“Wake up, Cord. It’s a dream.”
“Maggie!”
It took a few more shakes, but he finally calmed. Finally opened his eyes. He seemed as disoriented as she’d been just a moment before, looking around the room in almost a panic. Then his gaze swung to hers.
“Maggie?” The red, green, and blue lights from the tree made the blue of his eyes seem to glitter. He looked around once again, then a long hot breath slid from his lungs. “I was dreaming again.”
“Yes.” She nodded, not sure what to do. She straightened on the couch but stayed sitting next to him. His hand slid over to capture hers.
“I’m sorry.” His voice came out hoarse. She’d fallen asleep before the movie had finished, and he must have turned off the TV instead of waking her. He’d fallen asleep sitting up.
“There’s no need to be sorry.” She covered their hands with her free one. “Do you want to talk about it, though?” The last time she’d asked, he’d said no—but then he’d proceeded to share a few details anyway. She’d hurt for him that night. After all these years, he still dreamed about his mother’s wreck. That had to be stressful. “Was it about your mother again?” she reached up and caressed his cheek, the stubble of whiskers comforting under her fingertips. “Maybe talking would help.”
He studied her in the quiet darkness. It would be his call, but she wanted him to know she was there for him.
“Or I could make you a cup of tea,” she offered. He might prefer a few minutes alone.
“It was about my mother,” he croaked out, and she nodded, more than willing to stay put.
She pulled in a breath. “And I showed up in it again?”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You show up in all of them now, Maggie. Every one.” He captured the hand still on his jaw. “And in them, I can never save you.”
“Save me?” That wasn’t what she’d expected to hear. “What do I need saving from?”
His gaze moved away from hers, shifting to the tree, but she doubted he actually saw any of the brightly colored decorations. He seemed to be deep inside his own head instead. “You might need saving from me,” he whispered.
Chapter Fifteen
Cord heard his own words, but he couldn’t believe he’d spoken them. He didn’t talk about such things. What had this woman done to him? And how could he make it stop?
“Why would I need saving from you, Cord?”
She didn’t sound offended. Nor did she come across as clinical, as if trying to decipher the dream. She sounded honestly curious.
He shook his head at first, not wanting her to see his fears, but he knew that wasn’t fair. He kept waking this woman by shouting her name. He shouldn’t keep sweeping it under the rug. He wouldn’t change his mind and speak to a counselor, as his colleagues had suggested yet again, but maybe if he talked to Maggie . . . Maybe that would push some of his fears back where they belonged. Way down deep in his psyche where they’d never again see the light of day.
He shook his head once more. What the hell did he have to lose by talking about it at this point? “I fail people, Maggie.” He blew out another breath. “That’s what you need to be saved from. I fail people, and I don’t want to fail you and the baby. I let my mother down. I let a recent patient down. I let Harper down.”
“Wait. What?” The confusion on her face was obvious. “How did you let Harper down?”
Damn it. He shouldn’t have brought up Harper. He shouldn’t be talking about delivery scares with Maggie at all. He suspected she wouldn’t let him bypass this point, though. Not since he’d already said his sister-in-law’s name. He gentled his voice, but he didn’t let himself adjust his words. As always, he spoke truthfully. “She could have died that day, Maggie.” He squeezed her hand in his. “You know that. She and the babies both could have.”
“Yes.” She watched him carefully. “And thank goodness they didn’t. But Cord . . . what does that have to do with you?”
“I was there that morning,” he explained. “I was at Harper and Nick’s house. I knew her blood pressure was up.”
She still didn’t look at him as if she got it. She still looked at him as if he weren’t a monster. The furrow on her brow remained. “I don’t understand. Was she bleeding when you saw her?”
“No. Not yet. But—”
“Not yet?” Her confusion immediately cleared. “Then what are you talking about? There’s no ‘but’ to it. Harper’s scare isn’t on you. Plus, didn’t I hear that she’d had a doctor’s appointment that day, too? And that’s when she started bleeding? While waiting to see her own doctor?”
That was when she’d started bleeding. “Yes,” he agreed, holding up a finger as he went to explain. “But I should have—
“Stop it. No. You shouldn’t have done anything. You were visiting your sister-in-law.”
“I’m a doctor, Maggie.” He was a doctor first and foremost.
“Yes, but Harper was going to her doctor that day. Was her blood pressure already at a dangerous level that morning?”
She was making sense. Cord could see that. But the fact remained that he’d been there. He should have done better for his family. “Not dangerous yet, no.”
Maggie sat up straighter, her hand pulling away as she shifted, but once she’d settled, he reclaimed it. “Okay,” she continued. “Then answer me this. If she hadn’t had an appointment scheduled for that day, would you have done anything different because of her blood pressure?”
“Yes. I would have insisted she go in to see her doctor.”
She lifted her other hand, palm up. “Then there you go. Like I said. It’s not on you. Just like your mother’s death isn’t on you, either. You were a kid, Cord. I’ve heard the story many times. She had a car accident.”
He really hadn’t been prepared to argue these points. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Maggie.”
She studied him as if trying to understand. Her head tilted, and her brow furrowed once again. Her gaze softened. “Explain it to me, then. Let me help. Whatever is causing these nightmares, I want to help you through it. Whatever you need.”
What he needed was love, he thought. Though he had no idea where the idea had come from. Love was the last thing he needed. Love didn’t last. And it overlapped with hate.
He freaking hated his mother.
He told himself to get up and walk away. To end the conversation. Talking wouldn’t help. Telling Maggie wouldn’t solve anything.
But he didn’t get up. He kept hold of her hand instead. And then he opened his mouth and explained.
“My mother didn’t just have an accident.” He wanted to look away from her, but he couldn’t force himself to do it. “She caused the accident.”
“You mean, they ruled it her fault?” She nodded as if she’d known that.
“Yes. They did rule it her fault. But no, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that she had the accident on purpose. I don’t think she meant to involve another person, however. But she did intentionally swerve, most likely intending to miss the tree entirely and simply land in the ditch. She caused the accident. On purpose
.”
He could tell she still didn’t understand. And why would she? She hadn’t grown up with a narcissistic mother. Clearly, her mother hadn’t been perfect, and she’d harmed Maggie in other ways. But at least she hadn’t intentionally tried to screw with her head.
Maggie looked blank. “Why would she have wanted to wreck, Cord? I don’t get it.”
“Because she wanted attention. Because that’s what she did. It’s what we did.”
“We?”
He was ready to be done with this conversation. “Yes.” His voice lowered to almost a whisper. He was so tired of living with the anger and frustration from that one moment in time. So tired of knowing he should have done better. “We,” he said again. “Her and me. Dani had moved to New York by then; Gabe and I were doing our own things in the afternoons with school, and she apparently decided on that day it wasn’t worth her time to mentally mess with Nick, Nate, or Jaden. It was my turn. When she wanted attention, she sometimes finagled ‘accidents.’ Like the time she almost cut off her finger with a kitchen knife. Or the time she swallowed a bottle of pills.”
Maggie’s eyes widened. “OhmyGod, Cord. She could have died either of those times. I had no idea.”
“No, she wouldn’t have died either of those times. That’s the point. That would never have happened because she did all these things right when she knew I would find her. She knew I’d be coming through that section of the road that day. At that time. I had an appointment north of town fifteen minutes later, and I’d been coming from the school. She knew I would be there. And she couldn’t have timed it more perfectly, either. I came around the curve within seconds of the wreck happening. Only, she somehow missed that another car was also coming from the opposite direction.”
Horror began to fill Maggie’s eyes as understanding finally dawned. She put her hand to her mouth. “Do you know this for a fact?”
“Yes, I do. First of all, that was my role in the family. I was there to save her. But also, she was awake and fully aware when I found her. She was mad because the other car wasn’t supposed to be there. Mad, I would assume, because having another person potentially hurt would take some of the attention off her. Not mad—or feeling bad—because she’d run into an innocent person.”