Come Back To Me

by Julia Barrett

  “My cousin in South America has a couple of kids,” he explained.

  Cara suggested they bring Jeremy to her room where Jerry could stretch out on the bed with him. She lay down with him, the baby between them.

  When Jerry removed the quilt to have a good look at his son, Jeremy began to whimper and he opened his eyes. Still sleepy, he looked at his mother first; then he turned toward the big stranger lying next to him. Cara watched his eyes grow wide with surprise. He grinned his silly baby grin and poked Jerry in the chin.

  “Tuck . . .” he said.

  “He means truck,” said Cara. “He wants to play.”

  Jeremy wiggled his way down to the bottom of the bed and stood up, ready to head downstairs.

  “No, baby, Mommy will bring your toys up here. This is Jerry, he’s your . . .” she looked at Jerry.

  “His friend,” Jerry said. “I’m your friend, Jeremy. And your mommy’s friend too.”

  Cara went downstairs and returned with as many of Jeremy’s toys as she could carry. She left the two of them alone on the floor of her bedroom, playing a game of horsy. She went into the kitchen and made a plate of sandwiches for Jerry and got out a box of animal crackers for Jeremy. She grabbed a couple of sodas and warmed a baby bottle of milk and carried everything upstairs. Then she walked back downstairs and sat at the kitchen table, grading papers for over an hour while they played.

  She smiled as she heard Jerry change a dirty diaper. Finally he came downstairs, alone. He flopped onto her couch.

  “I put him back to bed,” he said, patting the cushion next to him. “C’mere, Red.”

  Cara came to him. She nestled into his broad chest and he wrapped an arm around her.

  “So where’s the schmuck from North Carolina?”

  Cara laughed out loud. “In Minnesota.”

  “When’s he coming down here?”

  “He’s not,” said Cara. “I haven’t spoken with him.”

  “What is he, some kind of idiot?”

  “No, I am. Remember?”

  Jerry wagged his finger at her. “Uh-uh. None of that. I never want to hear those words come out of your mouth again. You’re smart and you’re tough, Red. You protected my kid when I couldn’t. I can never thank you enough for that.”

  “You thanked me in advance,” said Cara. “Everything you told me, everything you warned me about, happened. I mean, it wasn’t exact, but it happened like you thought it would. The baby . . . The baby made me more determined. It wasn’t just me anymore. I had to think about my child. I couldn’t bring my child into that world.”

  “It was bad, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes Jerry.” She buried her head deeper into his shoulder. “It was very bad.”

  “I’m sorry, Red. I’m sorry.” He leaned over and pressed his lips against her curls.

  The two sat in silence for a while, comfortable, like old friends.

  Cara asked, “What are you doing back in the States?”

  “I had to see for myself that you were okay. I read the newspaper accounts. I heard about the baby. I wanted to know. I had to see him at least once.”

  “He looks like you, I think—the hair, the eyes. He’s going to be tall too. You know he was walking at eight months. I guess running is more like it. He was standing in his playpen one day in the backyard while I mowed the grass. I looked over just in time to see him throw up his arms and race across the playpen. He hasn’t stopped running since.”

  Jerry laughed. “Don’t let him play football,” he said, “too many injuries. He should stick with track and field or baseball. If he’s really tall, he can play basketball.”

  “Yes sir.” Cara smiled up at him. “No football. Baseball. Track and field. Basketball if he’s really tall. Got it.”

  Jerry drew his fingers along the side of Cara’s face, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “He looks like you, Red. He’s pretty, like you.”

  “He’s a good baby, Jerry,” said Cara, yawning. “He’s a lovely child.” She put her feet up and wiggled under Jerry’s arm, making herself more comfortable.

  “You rest. I’ll stay for a while. Go ahead, relax. Where did you say that Minnesota boy is?”

  “Hmm? Oh,” Cara said, with another yawn, “Grand Marais.”

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  Cara woke up on the couch, alone with a kink in her neck. She reached down and found that a blanket had been thrown over her. She still wore her clothes from the night before. Upstairs the baby fussed in his crib. Jerry was gone.

  The last thing Cara remembered before falling asleep was feeling completely at ease, safely cocooned in Jerry’s strong arms. Tears stung her eyes at the thought that she might never see him again, that he wouldn’t get to watch his son grow up. Worse, she knew Jerry wanted to be here.

  A lot of guys would be happy to get off the hook. Jerry wasn’t one of those guys. But he didn’t have a choice in the matter, nor did she. They had to protect each other and their son. Cara stretched to relieve some of the stiffness in her body. At least Jerry knew now that he had a son. And now she knew that he knew how to find her.

  After a big morning kiss, Cara lifted Jeremy from his crib. She managed to convince him to hold still long enough for her to change his wet diaper. As soon as she’d finished, he squirmed away and toddled off to slide down the stairs on his stomach. Cara supervised despite the fact that her son had become quite adept at going up and down stairs by himself.

  To describe her son as a handful didn’t do him justice. He was a mini hurricane. Cara helped him into his high chair, dropping a few Cheerios onto the tray and handing him a bottle of apple juice.

  As she scrambled some eggs for the two of them, she realized that she missed a man. One man in particular. She missed James. Damn him. She missed James.

  December 1979

  James paced back and forth over the rug in his office, restless. What the hell was he still doing in Grand Marais? He reminded himself that he had it all. He should be grateful. A beautiful woman named Jennifer Bates counted the days until he moved to New York. Her father’s well-established cardiology practice with its gorgeously appointed offices was waiting for him on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. The last time he’d spoken to Jennifer, she’d told him she was already looking for a three-bedroom apartment with a view. So, he asked himself again, what the hell was he doing in Grand Marais? He should have left a year ago. Jennifer had wanted to get married a year ago, but he’d stayed on.

  For what? The cross county skiing? Kayaking in the Boundary Waters? The hellacious mosquitoes? The babies he wasn’t even trained to deliver? The kids with strep throat? The bad roads in the winter, the cold, the snow, the ice storms? Why was he still here? He had a life waiting for him and a woman who made no bones about the fact that she wanted him.

  So what if Jennifer was, well, a socialite? What was wrong with that? At least she wasn’t complicated. He’d had complicated. It hadn’t worked out very well.

  James asked himself a fourth time. Why the hell was he wasting his time in Grand Marais? He stopped in front of the window, watching the big fat flakes of snow swirl around the old brick building. He’d stayed because of one word.

  Cara.

  Will had told him she’d moved back to Iowa City. His friend had even said, blunt as always, that he thought he was in love with her. James had been tempted to jump in his truck, race down to Iowa City and punch Will’s lights out when he heard those words, but instead he’d kept his distance.

  He loved Cara, goddamn her, he loved her, but he couldn’t stand the thought of being hurt like that again. He couldn’t go through that kind of hell ever again. He couldn’t watch her fall apart. He couldn’t sit by, helpless, while she destroyed herself again and destroyed him in the process. So he wished Will the best. Fuck it. He’d go to New York in the spring. He and Jennifer would set a date, he’d move into his nice, spacious, well-appointed suite of offices and he’d learn to play fucking golf.

  James hated golf.r />
  James tossed his stethoscope on the desk and ripped off his lab coat. He’d seen his last patient. He decided to forget the stack of charts on his desk and go home early, maybe put on his skis and head out into the fresh snow. Clear his head.

  Jennifer had been begging him to come to New York for Christmas. He’d told her no. He’d already volunteered to take calls so the regular docs could have the holiday off. Maybe he should reconsider. Peter would probably agree to work for him. James figured the man could use the extra money. Christmas was expensive when you had four kids.

  James decided he’d talk to him about it tomorrow. He stalked to the door of his office and threw it open. His receptionist let out a startled shriek, nearly falling on top of him. James caught her and set her back on her feet.

  “S-S-Sorry, Dr. Mackie, I wasn’t expecting you to open the door like that. I was just coming to knock.”

  “Don’t worry, Marie. No harm done. Do you need something?”

  “There’s another patient, a walk-in.”

  James stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “I’m leaving for the day. Wayne can see him.”

  “But he specifically asked for you. He said he has chest pain and he wants to see Dr. Mackie. He heard you’re a cardiologist.”

  James snorted. The guy probably had a bad case of indigestion. He was about to tell Marie to let Wayne handle it anyway when he suddenly reconsidered. Why not? Why not practice what he’d trained for? Maybe diagnosing a good old-fashioned heart attack was exactly what he needed today.

  “Did you put him in an exam room?”

  “Uh, no. The gentleman says he wants to speak with you first, in your, uh, office.”

  “Why? Put him in an exam room and let him know I’ll be right with him.”

  “Um . . .” Marie hesitated. “He’s, uh, he’s kinda big.”

  James couldn’t help but smile. “You get a name?”

  “No, uh, he just says he has a broken heart and only you can fix it.”

  James burst out laughing. “I’m sure he’s fine. Show him into my office then.”

  James backtracked and bent over his desk to retrieve his stethoscope. Someone cleared his throat from the doorway. James cast a glance over his shoulder. Marie hadn’t exaggerated. The gentleman was quite tall, at least six-four and he was a good two hundred thirty, two hundred forty pounds. He was powerfully built. He looked like he was made of solid muscle. Like a linebacker. He was a good looking man even though his nose appeared to have been broken a time or two.

  “I’m Dr. Mackie,” James said, extending his hand towards the gentleman. “What can I do for you?”

  The big man came forward and shook his hand firmly. He shut the office door behind him. “I’m Jeremiah Mitchell,” he said, “and I’d like to talk to you.”

  Christmas Day 1979

  “Thanks Mom, you are a life saver.”

  “Ten days with my grandson is no hardship,” said Cara’s mother, as she took Jeremy’s little hand. “I wish you’d let me keep him more often. Phil and I love to have him visit.”

  “I may take you up on that once I start pulling everything together,” Cara said. “Right now I’ve got a lot of research to do and this is the perfect time. Things are quiet and I’ll have the library and the art building all to myself.”

  Her mother nudged her towards the door. “You better get going, sweetie. It looks like it may snow again.”

  “Listen Mom, all his bottles are in the fridge. I stuck his cereal and his snacks in your pantry. His diapers, his snowsuit, his warm clothes and his stuffed animals are in his room and I put all his cars out on your sun porch. Oh, and his quilt is already in the crib. If you need anything call me, and I can bring it by. And I can pick him up early if he gets to be too much.”

  Cara’s mother smiled at her. “I know it’s hard to leave him, but he’ll be fine. I promise I’ll call if we need anything.”

  “Mom, I haven’t been separated from him for more than one night since he was born. It feels really strange already.”

  “He’ll do fine and so will you. Now go, before you get stuck here.”

  Cara lifted Jeremy into her arms and held him tight. She kissed his rosebud mouth and told him to be good for his grandma and grandpa.

  He gave her a solemn look. “Mommy bye-bye?”

  “Yes, baby, Mommy’s going bye-bye, but I’ll see you in a few days. I love you baby.”

  Cara handed Jeremy to her mother. She threw on her jacket and ran to the car before she started crying in front of him. She wasn’t sure her apron strings could stretch for ten long days, but she had work to do and her mother had been kind enough to offer to watch Jeremy. Cara figured if she worked constantly she could get a significant portion of her research organized, and then she could pick him up early. The thought gave her a little comfort.

  As Cara hit the Interstate, the snowfall grew heavier. She didn’t mind driving in snow as long as the visibility was still good. Besides, the gray skies and the drifting flakes matched her mood. She was feeling nostalgic and a little melancholy. It was almost like one of those nagging feelings she got when something was about to happen, something unexpected.

  Cara shook it off. It was just that she was leaving Jeremy. That’s all it was. She tried to look on the bright side. She could get a tremendous amount done in ten days. Then she’d have more time for him.

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  James waited in his pickup. He’d parked in front of Cara’s house. So far, he hadn’t seen any sign of her and the snowfall was heavy and he was getting cold. He hoped she hadn’t decided to stay on at her mother’s, but he wouldn’t blame her if she did. If she didn’t show up in another hour, he’d head over to Will’s apartment and crash with him.

  He grinned when he remembered Will’s threat. “You hurt her and I’ll break every bone in your body.” James had laughed uproariously.

  “What’s so funny?” Will had asked. “I’m dead serious.”

  James had laughed even harder. “I heard something very similar just last week from someone a lot bigger and a lot tougher than you.”

  “Who?”

  “Oh, just a patient who came to me with chest pain.”

  “Mack, you’re not making any sense.” James had sworn he could hear Will rolling his eyes over the phone. “Look, if you’re going to do this then get your ass down here. Cara’s spending Christmas with her mother and she’s leaving Jeremy there for ten days so she can get some research done. If you want to try to work things out with her, now is the time.”

  “When will she be back in Iowa City?”

  “She’s coming home Christmas Day.”

  So James had begged Peter to take Christmas for him and he’d kissed the job in New York and Jennifer goodbye forever.

  But he had no choice. Cara was the only woman he wanted. There was no substitute. She was the real thing.

  Jeremiah Mitchell had laid it all out for him, the entire awful story. James had been floored. He’d had no idea.

  Ever since the day he’d learned Cara was married, he’d avoided asking a single question about her. Even his friend, Will, hadn’t told him she had a child. He’d only told James she’d left her husband and returned to Iowa City.

  But Jeremiah Mitchell knew the entire story. James had hung on the man’s every word. A lot of what he heard made him sick, but it also made him see Cara in a new light.

  James spent hours kicking himself over the fact that none of them knew. None of them had been there for her. She’d had to figure out how to survive all on her own.

  Mitchell hadn’t been able to disguise his admiration for Cara. He hadn’t even tried. The fact that the big man was willing to allow James to raise his son, that he encouraged him to do so, had James shaking his head in disbelief.

  James tried and failed to feel any jealousy over the fact that the man had slept with Cara and fathered her child. Instead, James thanked him for helping Cara to stay alive.

  Jesus, he’d wanted to hug
the guy.

  Mitchell had said, “If I thought there was a chance for me, if I thought I could keep her for myself, I would. I would move heaven and earth to take Cara and my son away with me. But I can’t.”

  “Why can’t you?” James wanted to know. He’d really wanted to know.

  Mitchell shot James a look so intense James took a few steps back

  “I would never do that to her. She’d be staring over her shoulder every minute of every day. I want Cara to live a normal life. I want my son to live a normal life. Besides, here’s the kicker, she’ll never feel about me the way she feels about you.”

  “But why would you want another man to raise your son?”

  “Cara loves you. If a woman like Cara loves you, that’s good enough for me.”

  James blurted out, “But you love her too.”

  The big man shrugged. He stood up and walked to the door, then he’d turned and his smile was wicked. “Hey Doc, you fuck with her and I’ll break every bone in your body.” Just before he disappeared down the hallway, he said, “You know, it’s a strange thing. You look so much like Micah Welsh the two of you could be brothers.”

  Jesus. He left James speechless.

  And now here he was, sitting in an ice cold truck, praying the love of his life would drive around that damn corner.

  James had no intention of fucking with Cara. James wanted her. Just like Jeremiah Mitchell, if there was a chance for him, James was willing to move heaven and earth to have her.

  ∗ ∗ ∗

  The muffled sound of her tires on the snow covered street made Cara drowsy. The snow was really coming down. It was a good night for doing nothing. Maybe she’d cut herself some slack, forgo the work and instead curl up with a mug of hot chocolate and a good book.

  When she came around the corner, she noticed a brown pickup parked in front of her house. That woke her up. For just an instant she hesitated, took her foot off the accelerator and the car slowed, almost to a stop. What if . . . ? What if someone had followed Jerry, and . . . ?