Not Through Loving You

by Patricia Preston

  He kept the sad face intact. “Raising John is the most important thing in the world to me, and I want to be a great dad.” He swallowed. Spit it out. “But I may need some help.”

  She gave him a bewildered glance. “What kind of help?”

  “The baby doesn’t have any clothes,” he blurted out.

  “What?” she gasped.

  For added effect, he raked his fingers through his hair. “I work long hours, and I don’t even know where to buy baby clothes or whatever. I don’t really go shopping.”

  Her body language hummed with eagerness. “I can do that.”

  “I couldn’t ask that of you.” Time for unselfishness. “I know you’re busy.”

  “No.” She set her drink on the coffee table and looked at him, all smiles. “I’m not busy. I’m taking a few weeks off, and I’d love to buy baby clothes. That’ll be so much fun!”

  “I don’t have anything for the nursery either. Like a crib or all the stuff you need.”

  “I can get all that, too.” Now she was bouncing in the seat with excitement.

  Of all things, Stevie was right. Sonofabitch.

  “I’ll give you my credit card,” Aaron offered generously. What a great guy he was becoming. How could she even think of bringing in another doctor? “And I could use some pointers on what I need to do around the house before the home study.” He was on a roll.

  She gave him a thoughtful gaze. “I think you have a lovely place, and the house has great potential, but it needs a good cleaning and decorating.”

  “We’re in the processing of cleaning now, and after we finish the painting, I’m buying new furniture. Maybe you could help with that?”

  “Sure.” She studied. “What colors do you want to use in the nursery?”

  “Colors?” He shrugged. “Whatever you think looks good for a little boy will be fine with me.”

  She beamed, and he was actually feeling pretty good himself. “What size is the nursery?”

  He thought for a moment. The room he planned to use was across the hall from the master bedroom suite. Currently, it was his study, but he planned to move that upstairs. “It’s an average-size room like a spare bedroom.”

  “I’ll look at some nursery furniture and get back with you on what will fit in the room.”

  “You can come out to the house and take a look at the room tomorrow if you want.” Why not?

  “Okay.” She swung her legs out straight and pressed her palms against her knees. “I want to buy one of those huge teddy bears for the nursery.” Already shopping in her mind.

  “That would be great,” he said, ramping up the encouragement. “And Big Bird. Elmo. Thomas the Train. A red rocking horse.”

  With exhilaration, she said, “I can’t wait! I’m so glad you came by tonight.”

  “Me, too,” he admitted. This might be working out a little too well.

  “I was actually going to try to get in touch with you in the morning.” Lia wiggled her bare toes. “This afternoon, a good friend of mine in Nashville put me in touch with a pediatrician who she’s known for years. Dr. Gulati. He’s retired from the faculty of the Children’s Hospital at UAB.”

  The muscles across Aaron’s shoulders tensed, and the hostility of a protective parent simmered inside him.

  “Dr. Gulati was so sweet,” she gushed. “He went over a lot of things with me about premature babies. It seems most of the problems Baby John has are to be expected and that I just overreacted, which he said was commonplace. He told me that parents are often overwhelmed during their first visit to the NICU.”

  Aaron looked at the floor. Nondescript beige carpet.

  “Dr. Gulati told me that since the baby was gaining weight and on bottle feedings, that was very good, and since the baby wasn’t on a ventilator and stuff like that, he didn’t see any reason the baby would need to be moved to a larger NICU.

  “After talking to him, I felt terrible.” Lia pushed the curtain of dark hair from the side of her face and shrugged. “It seems I’m always jumping to the wrong conclusions when it comes to you.”

  Speechless, Aaron sat like a statue on the sofa.

  “Dr. Gulati gave me the name of an online support group for parents of preemies where they have message boards. I talked to several moms, and I feel so much better about everything.”

  She gave him a vivacious smile. “I was going to go home tomorrow after I apologized to you, but not now. I’m so excited about decorating Baby John’s nursery. It’s going to be fabulous, I promise,” she said. “And the house, too. I’ll help out with that, so don’t feel overwhelmed or that you’re in this alone because you’re not.”

  He sank back in the sofa cushions. Amazingly enough, he had managed to dig his own grave.

  She reached for her soft drink glass, and the melting ice wet her lips as she took a drink. “Are you sure you don’t want something?”

  He looked into her emerald eyes. He definitely wanted something, but he couldn’t have it. He wasn’t making the same mistake twice. Music came from her phone lying on the desk, and the sound of Dallas Peyton’s voice filled the room as he sang one of his hits about how he’d been traveling on a long, dark road alone until love came along.

  “Excuse me.” She didn’t look particularly thrilled as she got to her feet. He watched the edge of her shorts float just below her hips as she retrieved the phone and walked into the bedroom.

  As restlessness strummed through his veins, he stood. He stepped outside on the small balcony where the muggy air was typical of a summer night, along with the faint sounds of a dog barking and car doors slamming. Molly had left him in the summer. June tenth to be precise. Some things you never forgot. Good memories were a blessing. Bad ones, a curse.

  He blocked those thoughts. It was the here and now that mattered. As far as Lia Montgomery was concerned, she was part of the here and now, but not the future. All he had to do was stay in her good graces until the adoption process was finalized and John was legally his child. Then Lia would no longer be a threat, and he could be finished with her.

  He stepped back inside and waited near the door until she came out of the bedroom. Subdued, she appeared to have packaged up all her shopping excitement and tucked it away. She put her phone on the desk and turned to him. “How do I get in touch with you about the baby things?”

  “My business card has all my contact numbers.” He opened his wallet and pulled out his business card, along with his American Express card.

  She refused the credit card. “I owe Candace.”

  He didn’t necessarily agree. John’s birth mother had never once mentioned having a sister, and he doubted that Lia would have ever known about the baby if her sister hadn’t died.

  “It shouldn’t be all on you.”

  “I’m good with it.”

  “What’s your number?” He added her phone number to his contacts in his smartphone. Stevie would be proud of him.

  As he pocketed his phone, he had no good reason to keep standing in her suite and longing to be in her bed.

  “I’ll be in touch,” she said.

  “Okay.” He opened the door. The silence between them was marked with the awkwardness of two people struggling with the inescapable fact that they didn’t want the night to end. “I’m glad things are good between us.”

  Her gaze lingered on his face. He could almost feel the heat of it. Without words, passion called to him. A stronger man might have resisted, he thought as he anchored his hands on her hips and pulled her to him. In the back of his mind, a siren wailed, but he liked the feel of her firm body and the taste of her tender lips.

  She pressed her fingers against his jaw and pulled her mouth from his. “You have to go,” she whispered, but the truth was always loud, unforgiving, and hard to face sometimes.

  “Yeah.” He pushed away from her and from all the promise that brief kiss had held.

  She stopped him as he stepped into the hallway. “What time can I come look at the nursery?”<
br />
  He gave her a blank look. “The nursery at your house so I can get an idea of how to furnish it,” she reminded him.

  “Tomorrow around five will be good.”

  “See you then.” She stepped back, and the door closed with a quiet click.

  He pressed his shoulder against the doorframe. He started to knock on the door and tell her they shouldn’t fight what they both wanted. Before his fist made contact with the door, he thought of Molly and her reluctance, which he had foolishly ignored.

  “Aaron, you have to go. Okay?” They had stood on the stoop of Molly’s apartment building on a spring evening. “It’s too soon.”

  “No.” He pressed her hand to his lips, subduing her resistance. “It was too late the moment we saw each other. You know that.” He had pushed her into an affair, never once thinking Molly would become the biggest regret of his life.

  He hadn’t seen that coming until it was much too late.

  It was not too late now, and it was easy to see that Lia Montgomery could become the second biggest regret of his life. He stuck his hands in his pockets and headed down the hallway.

  As he reached the lobby, his phone hummed, and he checked it. He read Stevie’s message.

  Hey, bro, remember when it comes to women, shopping and sex are synonymous. Good chance you’ll get lucky tonight. All thanks to your kid brother.

  Aaron followed a concrete walkway lined in marigolds thriving in the warmth of the midsummer’s night. There was probably a little truth in what Stevie said. For sure, Lia had been excited, and she’d been arousing to watch. He’d admit that in a heartbeat.

  As he headed across the well-lit parking lot toward his Range Rover, he saw the red Jaguar, gleaming beneath the haze of a vapor light. Luminous and dazzling, it belonged to Dallas Peyton. Just like Lia.

  He replied to Stevie’s message.

  No getting lucky tonight. You should always weigh the consequences of your decisions before you act. That’s called wisdom. Truth from your big brother.

  Stevie shot back: WTF? UR HOPELESS. But hey, hopeless can be treated. He added an emoji of a smiley face wearing a surgical scrub cap and mask. Just call me the Love Doctor.

  Chapter 6

  The faint scent of incense lingered in Gilda’s living room where time had seemingly stood still. Grateful Dead and Black Sabbath posters hung on the ten-foot walls of the thirties bungalow, and a peace sign glowed on the ebony fireplace mantel. A braided rug covered the hardwood floor, and the seating was an eclectic mix of a gold brocade sofa and chairs covered in floral-pattern vinyl. In the background, Elton John sang “Rocket Man.”

  Lia sat in one of the floral chairs, doubting that she would ever be as cool as Gilda. Some people were just destined to be exquisite. Gilda entered the living room carrying a tea service. She wore a blue silk caftan with a sunburst in the center, and her thick platinum-colored hair was styled in a wedge haircut that she’d worn since ice skater Dorothy Hamill made it popular in the seventies.

  Gilda handed Lia a cup of tea. “I’ve always adored Dallas, but he’s not good for you, and you’re not good for him.” Gilda sat on the sofa and put her teacup on the maple end table where autographed pictures of Joni Mitchell and Bob Dylan were displayed.

  Lia was acutely aware that she and Dallas were like two ships lost at sea, drifting alongside one another. She knew she had hurt him when he offered her a ring and she didn’t accept it. That was when he had realized what she’d known for a while. She loved him, but it wasn’t the kind of love a woman should have for a man.

  “When Dad called last night, I almost told him,” Lia said. Instead, she had skirted around everything, claiming nothing was wrong. She just wanted to take off a couple of weeks. Rest and recharge her batteries. “We’re supposed to talk to him when he gets back from Europe.”

  “This has come up before,” Gilda reminded her. “Then neither of you follows through because of Julian. Dallas caves in because he’s terrified of alienating the one man he trusts most with his career, and you hang on to Dallas to please your father.”

  “It’s different this time.” Lia set the teacup on the tray. “Dallas has fallen in love with Madison.”

  “Then you have to let him go. You have to give him a chance at happiness. Plus, you could use a chance yourself.”

  Lia nodded. “I know.” She rubbed her arms, feeling a little desperate. “I don’t know why it’s so hard.”

  “What’s hard is stepping out of his shadow after all these years. You’re part of the Dallas Peyton brand, thanks to your father, Darth.” She called Julian by the nickname she’d given him. In turn, Julian called her Yoda. “You have to come into your own light, Lia. Listen to your spirit guides and embrace yourself.”

  Lia didn’t think that was possible. She had never won a Grammy like her father wanted, and now she felt her songs had been popular only because Dallas sang them.

  “My voice isn’t good enough, and my looks aren’t good enough.” She didn’t stand out in a crowd. She didn’t turn heads. Like her voice, her looks were ordinary. Before an appearance, it took hours in a makeup chair with a makeup artist working magic with cosmetics to slim her square face, lift her cheeks, widen her lips, and create smoky eyes complete with two sets of false eyelashes. Then came the Spanx to whittle down her body so she could wear a size six designer gown.

  “Your voice and your looks have nothing to do with you coming into your own light.”

  Lia sighed. “I was thinking about Mom late last night. I wonder if she just didn’t give up, and that’s why she died young. I hardly knew my own mother,” she lamented. “Nor Candace. I should have tried to find her after Mother’s funeral. Maybe things would have turned out differently.”

  “Do you truly believe that?”

  “No, I don’t suppose I do. Not really.”

  “I have something that will help.” Gilda stood and walked over to the built-in bookcases that flanked the fireplace. They were original to the house, made of walnut and stained a deep brown. Their shelves were stuffed with ancient books, odd trinkets, and all manner of small, intriguing boxes. Gilda opened a gilt-trimmed chest and withdrew a smooth, translucent pink stone.

  “This is a rose quartz.” She gave the stone to Lia. “It’s the stone of the heart. It soothes the heart, eases heartache. Encourages inner peace and heals grief. It promotes love in all its forms. It opens the heart to give and receive love, and it’ll put you in touch with your inner self.”

  “Wow.” Lia looked at the pink crystal in her hand. “It would make a pretty necklace.”

  “You could have it mounted, but for now, carry it in your pocket or purse so its energy is near you.”

  Lia slipped the stone in the pocket of her jeans. She didn’t share Gilda’s beliefs in such things, but she respected them.

  “I’m going to be staying in Lafayette Falls for a couple of weeks.”

  “You are?”

  Suddenly she was animated as her mood shifted from melancholy to the excitement of a new adventure. “I’m going to decorate the nursery and buy clothes for the baby.” She told Gilda about Aaron’s surprise visit last night. “Things are good between us now.”

  Gilda gave her a pointed look. “How good?”

  “Not that good,” she answered, and Gilda waited. Lia grinned. “Okay, I think he’s attractive. He’s got the sexiest blue eyes, and he’s tall. I love how he’s built, and he’s got a great smile, too.” Her grin widened. “He uses Fahrenheit aftershave by Dior and mint mouthwash.”

  “Lia,” Gilda scolded.

  “I was the one who ended the kiss.”

  “You’re kissing the doctor now?”

  Lia held up her hands in protest. “I didn’t initiate it. We were at the door, and the next thing I knew, he was kissing me. For a moment, it felt really right, and then I knew it was something that shouldn’t happen between us.”

  “But it did happen.”

  She let out a thoughtful sigh. “The situation
with Aaron is complicated. He’s taking care of Candace’s baby. He is going to be the baby’s father, and that means he’ll always be in the picture when it comes to me being the baby’s aunt.”

  “That’s true. Affairs end. Family doesn’t. It might be best not to intermingle.”

  “Exactly.” Lia couldn’t have put it better. “Intermingle. That’s a good word. No intermingling.” She would have to keep that in mind.

  “Let’s see what the cards say.” Gilda moved across the hall to the spiritual room, which had been the formal dining room before Gilda bought the house. A round table draped in a soothing deep green fabric stood in the center of the room. She fetched her jeweled card chest from the mantel and withdrew a deck of cards. They weren’t tarot cards, which were far too commonplace.

  Lia looked into the crystal ball on the sideboard while Gilda withdrew the cards that had been designed and hand-painted by a gypsy fortune-teller. At the end of World War II, the gypsy had passed the cards and their legacy on to an American nurse in France. That nurse was Gilda’s mother.

  As Gilda carefully shuffled the delicate cards with brittle corners, Lia turned and watched. Absently, she thought about Aaron. She wondered about trivial things like what kind of day he’d had. He had sent her a text earlier about the baby. John Aaron had gained another ounce. She had replied, telling him that was terrific news and she would be at his house at five to see the nursery.

  Gilda laid six pairs of cards faceup on the table. They were decorated with a variety of medieval figures and symbols framed in different colors. “In six pairs of two, three priests and the next card shall be true.”

  Lia glanced at the cards and saw some men wearing robes. “Are those priests?”

  “Yes. The second, third, and fifth pair all contain a priest—the priest of loyalty, the priest of sincerity, and the priest of compassion.” Gilda shuffled the cards and put them on the table. “Choose the next card.”

  “This is creepy.” Lia dug in the deck and withdrew a card. “Maybe it’ll be a rainbow.”

  Gilda shook her head when she saw the black card. “It’s one of the demise cards.”