by Susan Wiggs
“I know,” he said. “I’m an idiot.”
She smiled and kissed him. “I suppose that’s part of your charm.”
“Yeah?”
“Uh-huh. Irresistible.”
“I’ve missed you, Kate,” he told her again. Then he thought: I love you. He needed to tell her that, too.
“I’m no genius, either,” she said. “I guess…I went into this expecting the worst. I guess I kept looking for a way for us to fall apart, and it became a self-fulfilling prophecy. I thought…you had to be too good to be true. So I decided you couldn’t possibly be for real. Dumb, huh?”
“Kate—”
“I shouldn’t have been so defensive,” she said. “You were just being protective of Callie and open with me. I love that so much about you. Your openness. Your honesty.” She kissed him again as his heart sank like a rock. She propped her arms on his chest and held his gaze with hers. “I love you, JD,” she told him.
Damn. Now what? What could he say to that? He told her the most honest saying he could think of. “Me too, Kate. I love you, too.”
She smiled sweetly, maybe a little smugly. “Just remember, I was the first to say it.”
“Does that matter?”
“Not to me. I’m teasing.”
There was so much more he needed to say to her, to explain, but it was late, and still raining, and he didn’t feel like talking at all. He didn’t want to ruin the look of wonder he saw in her eyes. There would be time enough for talking later.
They slept. JD couldn’t tell what time it was when something awakened him, though it was still dark. The rain continued its patter on the roof and the fire burned low, a core of glowing embers that cast a faint orange light over the face of the woman beside him. The unguarded beauty of her stirred him. I love you. Telling her had been the easiest thing in the world because it was the truest thing he knew. And to hear her say it to him…that was a miracle, plain and simple. The last thing he’d ever expected, the last thing he deserved and the only thing he wanted. For now, he decided, for tonight, he would be happy. He wouldn’t worry about the difficulties that lay ahead.
He gently kissed her temple and lay still for a while, listening to the rain and the rhythm of his pulse in his ears. She shifted in her sleep, snuggled closer to him. It pierced him, the love and trust she gave so openly. He didn’t quite know what to make of it.
She woke up slowly and smiled the instant she saw him. Propping herself up on one elbow, she squinted out the window. “It’s getting light out.”
He saw the first gray threads of dawn creasing the sky above the mountains. “Still dark,” he insisted. “Go back to sleep.”
“The sun is coming up,” she said. “I have to go.”
“Why? Do you turn to stone by light of day?”
“No, worse. An irresponsible mother. I don’t want my son to catch me sleeping around.”
“You’re not sleeping around.” He tugged at the blanket, baring her shoulder. “You’re sleeping with me.”
“You’re going to get me in trouble.”
“This is trouble?” He couldn’t help himself. He had to touch her, glide his hands over the warm pale velvet of her skin. “Freckles are sexy,” he whispered in her ear. She shuddered and gave a little moan.
“That’s it,” she said, making a visible effort to climb to her feet. “I’m out of here.” She started pulling on her clothes. She had this crazy red bra that made him want her all over again, but he could tell she was agitated now, eager to get home.
He got up and felt her eyes on him. “It’s that underwear of yours,” he said. “Can’t help myself.”
“Get dressed,” she ordered, blushing. “Hurry.”
He reluctantly pulled on a pair of jeans and hastily zipped them. Then he bent to add a log to the fire. It flared up, gilding everything in its path.
She was still watching him as she pulled on her thick wool socks and combed her hair with her fingers. “We need to work on your conversation skills. You hate talking about yourself, don’t you?”
She had no idea. “I’ll tell you anything you need to know,” he said. It was time, past time, to come clean with her.
“Good. I’ll hold you to that.” She finger-combed her hair, which only made it messier. Sexier.
“You’re beautiful, Kate,” he told her.
“Uh-huh.” She stuck her feet into rubber garden clogs.
“I mean it. Just like this, in a sweat suit that doesn’t fit and plastic shoes.”
“It must be true love, then. You’re crazy.” At the door, she stopped and turned back to him. “Maybe I can steal away again tonight. We’ll work on those conversation skills of yours.”
He hesitated. Of all the lousy timing. “I won’t be here tonight.”
Her eyes showed a flash of Irish temper. “Already change your mind about me?”
He stepped closer, caught her in his arms. “Nothing like that. I’m going back to L.A., and Sam is bringing his family out here for Labor Day. I’m heading for Seattle tonight. Flying out early tomorrow morning.”
Her face fell. “Tomorrow? But we’ve only just—”
He pressed his finger to her lips. “I know. I’m sorry.” He wanted to tell her that he’d be back, that they could sort things out and he’d explain everything to her, but he wasn’t used to making promises, not to anyone.
“So you’re just leaving?”
“Yes. This was never supposed to be permanent.”
“I see. And were you planning on coming back?”
“No.”
She flinched.
He gathered her against him. “It’s true, Kate. I wasn’t going to come back. But now…” He stopped to kiss her softly. “Now I know I have a reason to.”
She sighed with contentment. “You’re a bit slow on the uptake.”
He kissed her again, this time his mouth pressing deep with suggestion. He could feel her reluctance to pull away.
“I really need to get back before the kids wake up,” she said. Then a smile lit her face. “We can all go to Seattle together.”
“Kate—”
“Really, it’s no trouble. I have things to do in the city, too.” She looked as though she might burst. “I have news. Ask me.” Her smile was infectious, curling around his heart.
“I’m asking.”
“I’m submitting the final paperwork to Child Protective Services. Aaron and I are going to be Callie’s foster family. I’m so excited, JD. It’s going to be wonderful for us all.”
She made it sound so simple. For Kate, it was simple. Callie needed a home, and Kate had one to offer. JD finally got it, finally figured out why she’d taken it so hard when he’d criticized her work. When you loved someone, their approval meant everything. He cupped her cheek in his hand. “You’re amazing.”
“Yeah, that’s me,” she said. “Amazing.”
Thirty-Two
The last time Kate told a man she loved him, he had left her pregnant and alone. No wonder it had taken her ten years to get up the nerve to do it again. She was a different person now—a grown woman, a single mother—yet she felt as giddy as a teenager after her first date. She floated through the morning with an idiotic grin on her face. JD had promised to come to breakfast, and later, they were all going to Seattle together. She showered, then rinsed the blackberries they had picked the day before. She even sang along with the radio—“Dancing in the Street” by Martha and the Vandellas—loud enough to wake Callie, whom Kate immediately drafted into an impromptu dance.
By the end of the song, they were both flushed and laughing.
Callie’s smile lingered as she got out her glucose kit, now an unchangeable part of her routine each morning. Thus far, every reading had been in the acceptable range, staving off the need for medication. Kate tried not to be too inquisitive. Soon enough, Callie would be an adult, living on her own, and she would have to manage the disease on her own.
“Dock of the Bay” came on the radio and
they hummed it together while fixing breakfast. As she whisked the eggs in a bowl, Kate yelled for Aaron to come to breakfast.
Callie flashed her a smile. “He can’t hear you. He’s out on the lake.”
Kate dropped her whisk in the sink and dashed outside. Sure enough, Bandit was running up and down the dock, keeping a worried eye on a boat out on the lake.
“I’ll kill them both,” she said, though just the sight of JD raised a ripple of happiness inside her. “They both know they’re supposed to ask permission.”
“He showed up while you were in the shower,” Callie explained. “I said it would be all right.”
Kate took a deep breath. The whole world looked brand new. The storm had washed everything clean, leaving the sky a deep, clear blue, the green of the forest renewed, the lake as pristine and transparent as a mirror. The air smelled sweet, almost dizzyingly so, and was bright with birdsong.
“So you and JD made up, right?” asked Callie.
Kate felt a rush of color in her cheeks. “What makes you say that?”
“You went over to his place last night.” She shook her head. “Sneaking out after hours. That’s supposed to be my specialty.”
“I wasn’t sneaking.”
“No, just leaving really quietly without telling anyone.”
“But—”
“God, Kate, chill.” Callie laughed. “I think it’s totally fly that you’re with him.” She waved at the boat in the distance, gesturing for them to return. “He came looking for you, but then Aaron spotted him and wouldn’t leave him alone until JD offered him a ride.”
As the sleek wooden rowboat glided toward them, Kate felt Callie watching her. “So it’s all good between you, right?” the girl asked.
Last night was perfect, Kate thought. She had never felt so cherished, so consumed with passion, so certain she was in the right place. With Callie, she was more noncommittal. “We’ll see.” She surprised herself with her own uncertainty. Everything had seemed perfectly clear this morning in his arms. This was too new. She wasn’t used to it.
“So did he tell you—” Callie broke off, pushed her hands into her pockets.
“Tell me what?” That he loves me? Kate couldn’t keep the grin from her face. He said it. He said it. He said it.
Callie kept her eyes down. Kate studied her, sensing that she had something on her mind. “Callie?” she prompted.
“I just wondered if he told you how he feels.”
“I think maybe we fell in love.” Kate couldn’t help herself. It was way too early to be spreading this around, but she had to say it aloud.
“Maybe?” Callie snorted. “I’d say definitely.”
“How can you be more sure than I am?” Kate asked.
“I have twenty-twenty vision. And I know what I see.”
The boat approached the end of the dock. Bandit whined and pranced.
“Mom!” Aaron yelled, scrambling out and unbuckling his life vest. “Check out JD’s boat, Mom. It’s cool, huh?”
Kate was busy checking out JD. “Yeah, buddy. It’s cool.”
Later that day, they went to pick up JD for the trip to Seattle. He had locked up the cabin and was waiting for them. Wearing lovingly faded jeans, a golf shirt and aviator shades, he looked more like a professional athlete than like Paul Bunyan.
For a moment, Kate was taken aback. Out here at the lake, it was easy to forget they had other lives, filled with other people. It was something to talk about, she decided. She wanted to know who was important to him, who was missing him this summer. She wanted to meet his parents, wanted to introduce him to her mother.
“You’re looking at me funny,” he remarked, closing the back of the Jeep.
He wouldn’t think she was so funny if he knew what was on her mind. “It’s going to get awkward tonight, in Seattle,” she said. “Since before Aaron was born, I haven’t… No one’s ever stayed the night.”
He bent down and kissed her forehead, easing the frown away. “Aaron can handle it.”
Can I? she wondered. That was the thing about being a single mom. She was used to being in charge of every aspect of their lives. Now, seemingly overnight, there were two more people in her life. And though she adored both Callie and JD, she knew her world was about to change.
“That’s all you’re taking?” she asked. “The duffel bag?”
“I travel light.”
She took it as a good sign; he would definitely come back for the rest of his things. Then it occurred to her that she was already having doubts about them. Stop it, Kate, she thought. She got back in the Jeep and snapped on the radio.
Although it was just over a hundred miles to Seattle, it felt as though they were crossing continents and time zones. The towering, dense forests of the Olympic Peninsula gave way to the weekend cottages of the Hood Canal and then Bainbridge Island, where they drove onto the massive white-and-green car ferry for the final leg of the trip. Callie and Aaron went to the passenger deck to play video games. Kate and JD climbed the stairs to the top deck outside to look at the scenery. The deck was crowded with vacationers soaking up the last of the August sun, tourists snapping pictures of Mount Rainier or the Space Needle, restless kids chasing each other, and smokers gathered at the aft railing, the only place on the boat that permitted smoking. Kate studied a cluster of kids about Callie’s age, pierced and tattooed and clad in leather, sucking on menthol cigarettes. Just the sight of them made her nervous about raising Callie. But nervous or not, it was what she’d signed up for.
She watched a portly man in a business suit talking on a cell phone as he paced in agitation. His face was beet red, nearly purple, and a contrail of cigarette smoke followed him. Welcome back to the city, reflected Kate. Even here on the ferryboat, she could feel the pace speed up.
They strolled toward the bow, passing a clown in full regalia making balloon animals. A couple of rowdy boys played with a set of military action figures. Stopping to watch for a moment, she leaned against a green enamel–painted railing and looked at the familiar scenery. Having lived here all her life, Kate always had to remind herself of how magical the place was for tourists and newcomers. It was like no other place on earth, especially in summer, when the rain was a distant memory. With JD at her side, she saw the sights with new eyes—the white-crested mountains rising out of the Sound, ferries and barges steaming back and forth, pleasure crafts and fishing boats exploring the forested islands and inlets. The same water that reflected the glass and steel spires of Seattle was home to whales, seals, eagles and salmon.
“Some of my earliest memories are of racing for the ferry on the way to the lake,” she said. “One time, I made us miss the boat because I had to hunt down my pet hamster. My brother shunned me the whole first week of summer to punish me for making us late. Back then, there were only a few ferry crossings each day, so missing the boat could be really tragic.”
He took her hand and kissed it. “There’s always another boat, Kate.”
“So I’m told.” She loved it that he’d kissed her hand and then kept hold of it. She felt like a high-school girl going public to show off her new boyfriend. The thought made her laugh and fling her arms around his neck.
People passing by glanced at them and some smiled indulgently. Kate realized she and JD looked exactly like the young lovers she used to regard with a pang of empty yearning.
A harried young couple, watching over a pack of small children, including a little girl and rowdy boys playing with action figures, gathered nearby. The father was trying to take their picture while the mother pushed a fussy toddler in a wobbly stroller.
Somehow, the father managed to corral the boys at the railing for a group shot. His wife handed the toddler a cookie to get her to stop whining.
“We should offer to take their picture,” Kate said, waving at the man to get his attention.
JD balked. “Somebody else can do that.”
Lord, she thought, was he really that shy? She went over to the ma
n with the camera. “Let me take that shot so you can be in it, too.”
“Hey, thanks. It’s a digital, point-and-shoot. The shutter’s right here.”
“Got it. I’ll take a couple.”
The man hurried to join his family. They stood together with Mount Rainier floating like a pale confection in the background. He picked up the baby and turned her toward the camera.
The boys behaved horribly, teasing and cuffing each other, fighting over their Green Beret action figures.
“Everybody smile,” Kate called out, snapping one, two, three pictures. She reviewed them on the small screen and gave a thumbs-up. Years from now, she thought as she handed back the camera, the mother wouldn’t remember how ill behaved the kids were or how tired she felt. She would only remember how young they all were, and what a beautiful day it was, out on the Sound.
“You have a lovely family,” she told the woman.
“Thanks. It’s our first summer vacation together. We just got married.” She gestured at the boys. “Blended family—his, mine and ours.”
Love was hard work, Kate thought. And it was so worth it, as Aaron would say.
“How about a picture of the two of you?” the woman asked. “You’re such a cute couple.”
A couple, thought Kate. We’re a couple. A cute couple. “I don’t have a camera with me,” she said.
“I’ll e-mail you.” The woman held out the camera. “Come on, smile!”
Kate could feel JD stiffen and pull back. She felt suddenly awkward, like a fraud. She didn’t belong with this man, had no claim on him. Still, the woman seemed so eager that Kate went along with it. She tucked her arm around his and then impulsively rose on tiptoe, took off his dark glasses and placed a shy kiss on his cheek.
She was struck by his tense and frowning face. “Pretend you like me,” she whispered in his ear.
He cracked a smile then, chuckled a little. Kate hoped the camera caught that.
Afterward, she gave the woman her e-mail address. As the young mother put away the camera, she looked at JD, did a double take. “Have we met? You look familiar.”