by Loree Lough
Then it hit her: any minute now, Mrs. Clayton would lose her little boy.
“I should go to her,” she said. “She probably needs—”
“She isn’t alone, Taylor. Randy’s mom has a big, loving family, and most of them are with her now.”
Nodding, she glanced into Eli’s room, and again saw the square of flannel poking out of her purse … same color, she realized, as Millie’s saddle blanket. What better way to memorialize the boy-horse friendship than by sewing a bit of that into the quilt, too? She’d nearly overlooked including something of Reece’s in Eli’s quilt. What else might she have forgotten?
“Won’t be easy,” Reece said, “breaking the news about Randy to Eli.”
“He isn’t dead yet. Maybe God will bless us all with a miracle.”
She might as well have said, “Did you hear … they discovered the moon really is made out of green cheese!”
“Well,” she conceded, “if the worst happens, we’ll tell him about it, together. First Randy, then Millie, because I don’t think he could stand to hear about both in the same conversation.”
He pocketed his hands. “Yeah. Poor kid. As if he hasn’t already lost enough.”
“If the worst does happen today, will Eli be well enough to attend the services?”
“I doubt it. And that’s a blessing in disguise, because I’m not at all convinced kids that age should be allowed to see stuff like that.”
How odd it felt, and yet how normal, discussing what was best for Eli as if he’d been born to them. Odder still … that in the middle of it all, she noticed Eli’s PJs, neatly folded and stacked under her purse, right where she’d put them after changing him into his hospital gown. Pale blue cotton with a repeating theme of cowboys and lassos and Stetsons, short sleeves, short pants … and Randy had an identical pair. She’d bought them after witnessing his humiliation the first time he’d spent the night and had to call home because MD had prevented him from making it to the bathroom on time. Had he told his mom about the Spiderman underpants, blue jeans and Tshirts, socks and sweatshirts Taylor had tucked into a drawer in case he spilled a juice box down his shirt or dribbled ice cream on his pants?
“I’m almost afraid to ask what’s going on in that head of yours?”
His cell phone buzzed, and he stepped aside to take the call.
Saved by the bell? Because if the phone hadn’t interrupted them, Taylor would have told him about her plan to turn her mother’s quilt into the story of Eli’s life. He’d probably think—
“Randy’s gone,” he ground out. “I’ve gotta get down there.”
When he didn’t hurry toward the elevators, Taylor studied his face … his haggard, worry-etched, handsome face. Her heart ached for him, torn between his doctor’s duty and the boy he loved so much. Being the go-to guy at times like these couldn’t be easy.
“Reece,” she whispered, and held out her arms, “c’mere.”
She half expected he’d flash that crooked smile and say something like “Thanks, but I really should go.” Instead, he closed the gap between them, just as he had in Eli’s room earlier, and buried his face in the crook of her neck.
The hug lasted all of a minute, then he straightened and stepped away, one hand in the air—a silent goodbye—as he jogged down the hall.
It was as Reece disappeared around the corner that Taylor noticed it …
… the cold damp spot his tears had left on her shoulder.
14
There hadn’t been a lot of one-on-one between him and Taylor since his meltdown outside Eli’s hospital room. Whether that was because every hour of every day seemed jam-packed with surgeries and patient appointments, meetings with the hospital board, and trips to the Misty Wolf, Reece couldn’t say. That, alone, didn’t explain the way she always had something to do—feed the horses, take a pie out of the oven, tack another square to that blasted quilt of hers. Fine kettle of fish, he thought, quoting his grandpa, when you’re jealous of a blanket.
He’d studied enough psychology to recognize misplaced hostility when he felt it: it wasn’t the quilt, itself, that bugged him so much as the fact that she seemed to be hiding behind it. Tonight, he was determined to force her to set it aside, at least long enough to have that too-long-delayed talk with Eli.
A quick phone call would set things in motion: Isaac and Tootie could take Eli into town for ice cream—his treat—and while they were gone, Reece would sit Taylor down so they could hammer out a plan to get Eli to open up about Randy’s death. In the weeks since that sad day, and except for being a little quieter and less active than he’d been before the meningitis attack, Eli seemed almost like his happy self.
Almost.
At the mention of Millie, he’d change the subject; bring up any reference to Randy and he’d leave the room. The behavior was no more normal or healthy than dwelling on such things. But without a discussion of some sort, something like this could fester, could even cause bigger problems down the road. Taylor might be okay with the status quo, but Reece was not.
He was about to dial Isaac’s number when his doorbell rang. Best laid plans …
If he’d known who was out there, Reece never would have opened the door.
“Dixie,” he growled.
“Goodness,” she laughed, “is that any way to greet an old friend!”
She flashed the dazzling smile that had attracted him to her in the first place, and it made him wonder why it had taken him so long to call it by its proper name: phony.
Dixie used her clutch to fan her face. “You’re not going to make me stand out here in the hot sun, are you?”
Oh, great. First the smile, now the well-practiced head tilt. Reece stepped and let her pass. “You’re a long way from New York.”
“I just bought the most charming place in Blacksburg.” She made herself at home on the living room sofa, and crossing one long leg over the other, added “It’s a tax office now, but with a little paint, some Victorian furnishings, it’ll make an adorable shop.”
In the past, if she’d dropped a hint like that, he would have behaved like a well-trained lapdog, and asked what she planned to sell. If she thought he was going to fall for that, she had another think coming. And wasn’t it just like her to think he’d let her waltz in after all this time and pick up where she’d left off! “What do you want, Dixie?”
“Want?” She sat forward and struck a pose, elbow on knee, chin on fist. “Why, Reece Montgomery,” she said, lower lip thrust out in a girlish pout, “if I didn’t know better, I’d say you aren’t happy to see me.”
I’m not, he thought. But “You caught me as I was just about to leave” is what he said.
She rose slowly, adjusted the hem of her skirt, then crossed the room and picked up one of the half-dozen framed photos of Eli, arranged on an eye-level bookshelf. “And who is this little cutie?”
“My nephew.” He relieved her of the photo.
“Margo and Eliot’s son?”
“Yup.”
“Why, he was just an infant when …”
When you took off for parts unknown with some weasel who promised to turn you into the next Broadway sensation? Without a call or a note or—
She moved closer, traced the button panel of his shirt with a long red fingernail. “Leaving you was the biggest mistake of my life. I hope you know I never meant to hurt you.”
Again with the head tilt. Really, Dixie? Reece forced a chuckle. “You always did take a lot for granted.”
Dark, perfectly arched eyebrows rose, first one, then the other as she tried to make sense of his retort. He could call her a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. Any second now, that too-familiar glint in her brown eyes would signal him that she’d figured things out. But by then, he hoped she’d be long gone.
“Look,” he said, taking her elbow, “much as I’ve enjoyed our little reunion, I really have to go.”
She let him lead her back to the door. “Important doctor things, or some
thing more …” She batted her eyelashes. “personal?”
“Aha,” Reece said, and left it at that.
“Another time, maybe,” she said as he opened the door, “when you aren’t so busy?”
He could pretend that was possible, but why waste his time and hers? “Nah, but thanks for stopping by.”
With the door closed and bolted, he returned Eli’s picture to the shelf, more determined than ever to get over to the Misty Wolf.
“Ice cream, huh,” Taylor echoed. “Whose big idea was this!”
Eli grinned up at her. “Isaac. And Tootie.” He smiled at them, too.
She almost teased them, asking why she hadn’t been invited. But Eli hadn’t spent much time alone with them since his illness, and the little outing would probably do them all a world of good.
Waving goodbye from the front porch, she watched them drive off in Isaac’s rumbling pickup truck, Eli’s booster seat raising him tall in the back passenger window. These days, she took advantage of every opportunity to add to his quilt. After a scare like meningitis—and what it had cost Mrs. Clayton—a person couldn’t count on tomorrow.
Seated in her favorite chair in the parlor, Taylor draped the quilt across her lap and picked up where she’d left off yesterday: a bright red square cut from her father’s buffalo plaid hunting shirt. Just a few more squares, she thought, stroking the fuzzy red-and-black panel, and the body of the quilt would be finished. Next, the border, and finally, the embroidered script that would define each square.
A few stitches into the project, Taylor heard the unmistakable sound of Reece’s sportscar out front. Setting aside her work, she got up to greet him, hoping as she walked toward the porch that the strain between them was only a figment of her imagination.
“Like your shorts … or whatever they are,” he said, climbing the steps. “Reminds me of the stuff girls wore in the 1950s.”
“Back then, they called ’em pedal pushers. These belonged to my mom. Found them in the attic looking for—”
“I know, I know, quilt stuff.” He let himself inside, then held the door for her. “I don’t suppose you have any of your famous lemonade around, do you?”
“Matter of fact, I made a pitcher just before supper.”
He followed her into the kitchen and watched as she poured him a glass. “It’s pretty quiet around here tonight.” He took a sip. “No guests?”
“Only three. Nice couple and their son, here for a tour of the Virginia Tech campus.” She poured herself a glass of lemonade and joined him at the table. “Says he wants to be a veterinarian.”
“I’m sure they’ll be impressed. V-Tech has one of the best vet programs in the country.”
All this, she thought, from a guy who claimed to hate small talk. If the tension between them wasn’t imaginary, what did she have to lose by cutting to the chase? “So what brings you here on this crisp August night?”
Reece shrugged. “Well,” he drawled, “I thought since you had to cancel Eli’s birthday party, we could maybe do something big, help him celebrate the little five.” He slid tickets to a Baltimore Orioles game from his pocket. “Bought a season’s pass even before opening day, thinking to take him to all the home games.” Another shrug. “Then one thing and another came up, and well, we never got there.” Now he tapped the tickets. “But we could. Get there, I mean. If you’re game.” He grinned. “Pun intended.”
The way he looked right now reminded her of Eli, asking for chocolate before supper or to stay up past his bedtime, as if willing her to say yes.
“You wouldn’t have to come with us to all the games if you didn’t want to.” He picked up the tickets and fanned them out, like a deck of cards. “There aren’t many home games left, anyway.”
“Baltimore’s a long way from Blacksburg.”
Eyes wide, he put the tickets down again, and waving her unspoken concerns away, said, “Oh, hey, I’d get you your own room, so don’t give that another thought.”
Was he blushing? Just when she thought he couldn’t possibly surprise her, he did.
“It’s just that I have guests booked straight through until October, and—”
“World Series,” he said, grinning.
“I thought you didn’t believe in miracles.”
He snickered. “Funny. Real funny.”
“What I meant was, nights and mornings are when I’m busiest around here, even when there’s only one room booked.”
“I’m sure Isaac and Tootie could handle things for a night or two.”
Probably, but she wouldn’t feel right asking them to.
“You don’t have to decide right now. Just think on it for a couple days. And if you decide against it, well, Eli and I will catch a game or two, and we’ll figure out another way to celebrate his birthday as a family.”
As a family? Is that how he saw their little threesome?
Reece’s fidgeting had slowed, but he was clearly still nervous about something. If not the tickets, then what?
And then it came to her.
“I was wondering when you’d get around to this.” She’d hoped to give Eli more time to adjust to life without Randy before forcing him to confront the loss. And knowing how Reece felt about letting too much time pass before Eli faced things, she’d taken the avoidance route.
“Look, Taylor, I know he only just turned five a few weeks ago, but he’s tougher than he looks. He’s been down this road before, with Margo and Eliot. He can take it … if we’re there to help him deal with it.”
“He was so young when Eliot died that he barely remembers him. As for Margo …” She couldn’t bring herself to point out that his sister had left Eli long before her death. “With Randy, it’s different. They had real conversations, made plans, went places together.” She linked her fingers together, to emphasize her point. “They were together almost as much as they were apart. They shared things, Reece. That’s completely different from his relationship with his mom and dad.”
Reece sat quietly, nodding, forefinger tapping the tabletop. “I hear you. So you’re saying wait.”
“Yes.”
“Until?”
No matter how fiercely she scrutinized his face, Taylor couldn’t find a trace of sarcasm or mean-spiritedness.
“Until no one ever gets sick or dies. Until accidents stop happening and wars end. Until the people we love never leave us. Until we don’t lose treasured keepsakes.”
“In other words, never.”
“Yes. I mean no … of course, we have to teach him how to cope with loss. But he’s so little, Reece. We’ve been where he is, you and me, but not at the age of five. Shouldn’t we, of all people, be able to figure out how to protect him from pain like that?”
The hand that had been holding the tickets slid across the table until his forefinger tip touched hers, and Taylor prepared herself for the lecture that would follow, that love, even love as strong as theirs for Eli, couldn’t shield him from all of life’s hurts. That pretending they could shelter him, always, would only make it harder for him to cope with the next heartbreak, and the one after that.
“Okay,” he said instead. “We’ll wait.”
Relief surged through her. Relief and a quiet awareness that she loved this remarkable, bighearted man.
“I have something to tell you.”
She refilled his lemonade. “Uh-oh… .”
“That night in the hospital, when I got word that Randy was gone, I … I didn’t mean to—”
“If you’re fixin’ to apologize for being human, I don’t want to hear it.”
“Wow.”
“Wow?”
“Here I was thinking all this time that was why you’ve been so … so standoffish lately.”
“My turn to apologize, I guess. I’ve been avoiding you because I didn’t want to get into the whole make-Eli-face-his-ghosts thing.”
“Why? You thought I’d behave like a pushy, unreasonable jerk?”
She mirrored his smile. “No, not
even close. I guess the truth of it is, I’m not ready to see him through the—”
His phone rang, startling them both. He was chuckling about that when he said hello, but ten seconds into the onesided conversation, his smile vanished like the smoke from a spent match. Taylor couldn’t imagine who might be on the other end of that call—or what dreadful news they’d delivered—to change everything from the warm light in his eyes to his relaxed posture. Reece took the phone outside, and as he paced the back porch, she heard the undercurrent of anger in his voice. He could be gruff when prying symptom details from a worried parent. But this? Taylor didn’t know what to make of it.
“That was my mother,” he said, dropping heavily onto the chairseat. “Seems they’re coming home.”
“When?”
“Day after tomorrow.”
“For your birthday on the eighteenth?” She’d attended half a dozen family-only parties to celebrate the date. If his sister had been disappointed by their parents’ absence—
“Please.” Reece harrumphed. “I doubt either of them remembered.”
She thought of all the things Margo had said about Reece’s hostility toward his mom and dad. In Taylor’s mind, this sounded more like years’ worth of hurt and resentment.
“Did your mom say how long they’re staying?”
“First of all, there’s a huge difference between being a mother and being a mom. The act of giving birth can turn any female into a mother, but it takes a lifetime of being there, of self-sacrifice and selfless love to make her a mom.” He pointed at the phone clutched tightly in his hand. “The woman I just talked to is my mother. You are a mom.” He pocketed the phone. “And to answer your question, she said they’re coming home for good. But she’s said that before, too.”
If she hadn’t been paying attention, Taylor might not have heard his compliment, buried as it was under a mountain of disappointment.
“Well, if you need a hand getting the guest room ready, I’m happy to—”
“No way. Absolutely not. They can stay at Margo’s. I’ve kept up with the mortgage. Might be a little dusty, but—”
Eli burst into the door. “Uncle Reece! What’re you doing here?”