“As a tribute to Phillip?”
“Or a reminder that everything good in my life would eventually wind up in the garbage.”
“You don’t really believe that,” she told him, “or you would have given up. Which, obviously, you didn’t do.”
She reached out and touched one of the pieces. “May I?”
He frowned and it took a heartbeat for him to answer. “I guess,” he said with a shrug that reminded her of Caleb.
The metal playing piece was cold and spikey but seeing the neatly tied yarn almost broke her heart. She let it dangle from her fingers against the light. “Have you done this every year since he died?”
“No,” he replied. “There were years when I couldn’t even afford the price of a set of jacks. But every once in awhile I’d be in the toy aisle at the grocery store and if I saw a bag, I’d think of Phillip.” He finally smiled. “Poor little guy was almost always sick around the holidays, but, dang, he could play jacks. He had the most amazing eye-hand coordination. Quick as a flash.”
Allison took her time finding just the right spot to hang the first jack. “I haven’t played for years. I remember beating my brother one day, and that was the last time I ever saw our set. He hated to lose—especially to a girl.”
She reached for another piece, but his fingers curled into a fist. She looked up.
“I love you, Ally.”
Her heart stopped beating. Neither had spoken the words aloud at any point of their lovemaking. “You do?” she asked, barely able to get the words out.
He nodded. “I don’t know what that means to our plans—”
She cut him off by putting her finger to his lips. “Don’t ruin the moment by being pragmatic.” She laughed lightly. “That’s my job.”
His arms went around her, crushing her to his chest. He bowed his head but didn’t kiss her. When their cheeks brushed, she felt a dampness she knew didn’t come from her. She was moved beyond words, and the love she felt but couldn’t confess, almost burst from her lips. Suddenly she felt a velvety softness rub against her bare ankles.
“We have company,” she whispered into his hair.
Jake stiffened.
“Merry Christmas, Rom,” she said, glancing down. “Where’s Cleo?”
Jake stepped back and turned her around, still keeping an arm around her shoulders. A little boy in red pajamas stood four feet away, his arms overflowing with white cat.
Caleb blinked sleepily. He apparently didn’t see anything wrong with his godparents hugging in front of the Christmas tree. “Did Santa come?” he asked, yawning.
Jake tightened his hold on Allison and answered, “Oh, yeah. Big time.”
The innuendo went right over Caleb’s head, but Allison knew what he meant and stepped down solidly on his bare insole. “Ouch,” he cried, a laugh in his tone. “That was my foot you accidentally crushed. Let’s get some lights on and find the video camera.”
Allison started to protest—they couldn’t open gifts until Cordelia arrived, but she lost her train of thought when Jake opened her hand and dumped the remaining jacks in it. He closed her fingers around them and said, “We’ll play later.”
The promise invoked images of a different kind of game. “Wh...what about Phillip?” she finally managed to ask.
He grinned and dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “If you beat me, I guarantee he’ll be watching from heaven, laughing his butt off.”
She stumbled to the closest chair and sat. Rom joined her, landing solidly in her lap. He sprawled lengthwise on her chest, his whiskers just inches from her nose. With the faintly crossed-eyed look that made her think he must have had some Siamese in his gene pool, he studied her. “Meow.”
She used her free hand to pet him. “Yes, you're handsome and I love you, too.”
His purr hummed through her. I love you, too. How come she could say those words to a cat, but she couldn’t tell Jake how she felt?
Chapter 13
“You’re doing great, buddy, but it’s almost time to leave for your grandma’s,” Jake called to the little boy testing out his new bike.
Their plans had changed radically when Cordelia called, in tears, to say that her fever had spiked in the night and she wasn’t well enough to join them. Jake had promised to videotape everything. “Then we’ll come to you—loaded with gifts,” he’d told her. “Right after we dig into the feast Allison is preparing.”
The morning had disappeared beneath an avalanche of crumpled wrapping paper. But each joyful exclamation and tender moment was tempered by a bittersweet feeling that every second of personal joy had come to him by way of his best friend’s death. Were he and Allison pretending to be happy for Caleb’s sake or were these genuine happy memories he would carry with him forever? He didn’t know the answer.
As he watched his godson ride in circles in the driveway, Jake sensed an air of caution about the boy that hadn’t been present in August. Maybe with time, that carefree, rambunctious child might return. Or would he? As much as Jake admired and appreciated Allison’s devotion to Caleb, he also knew that she tended to be overprotective, like Kenny. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing as long as Caleb had a risk-taker like Pam for counterbalance.
Allison, who was taking advantage of the mild weather to water the three leftover poinsettia plants, rose from her stooped position. Dressed in tight black slacks, boots with heels and the new white sweater Caleb had picked out for her online, she looked like a gift he wouldn’t mind opening. She caught him staring and waved.
His heart gave a corresponding answer that seemed almost cliché. Good lord, was this what the poets talked about? Had he finally experienced the real thing? He was afraid to examine his feelings too closely. As Allison had pointed out, theirs was a complicated relationship, with other people’s feelings to consider, as well as their own.
“Look at me, Mommy. I mean, Ally. Look how fast I can go.”
Allison put down the hose. Instead of applauding as Pam would have done, she stepped forward with a frown on her face and said, “You’re doing great, but be careful not to shoot into the street.”
Jake almost rolled his eyes. This was a cul-de-sac. Any approaching car could be heard making the grade to reach the summit. But he said nothing. Did his opinion matter if he was leaving soon?
Allison turned off the water and joined him. Although the air temperature was only in the midforties, the sun warmed his head and shoulders, reminding him of the Christmases he’d spent on a surfboard.
“I think the bike is a real winner,” he said when she neared. “He’s going to be able to ride it without training wheels in a couple of months.”
“Not on my watch,” she said, apparently without thinking. A second later, she tried to wave away the words. “I meant I’m not in a big hurry to take them off. I was in the E.R. when Caleb broke his finger. That’s one ordeal I’d like to avoid going through again.”
“Where was Pam?”
“In the waiting room. The doctor sent her away after she almost passed out. She never handled pain well.” Allison folded her arms around her middle. “When she went into labor, Kenny and I were supposed to be her coaches. She managed about half an hour of contractions before demanding a C-section.
“Thankfully, Caleb came quickly. He’s always been sensitive to other people’s feelings.”
They watched the little boy ride back and forth, singing a silly, made-up song. Jake wondered if she was thinking about the accident. Every once in awhile, out of the blue, he’d find himself trying to imagine what happened that morning. He prayed that his friends had died swiftly, without suffering.
“Where was Kenny when Caleb fell off the scooter?” he asked.
Allison shrugged. “I don’t remember. I got Pam’s call and raced to the emergency room. She was borderline hysterical. She was sure he was going to be crippled for life.” Allison shook her head. “We’re talking a broken finger. I told her she was crazy. That Caleb was too young to let any kind of h
andicap scar him—especially not a broken digit.”
“What did she say?”
“That I wasn’t a mother. I didn’t understand.”
Jake pulled her into a one-armed hug and leaned his cheek against her crown. “That was a bit harsh.”
“She was upset. Pam could be a little insensitive at times, but I let it slide because she was worried about Caleb. Besides, she was absolutely right. The past month has proven that there’s a big difference between being a pseudo aunt who pops in for parties and an occasional baby-sitting gig, and a mother who is on duty 24/7.
“I used to be able to maintain a certain emotional distance. Now, I’m right here in the trenches, feeling every smile and tear.”
“And you love it.”
“I like parts of it,” she equivocated. But, in response to the skeptical look he gave her, added, “Okay, I love it, but let’s not forget Caleb is four. His mother got him through the baby stage.”
He let his hand fall to her waist. He liked her figure—trim and fit but not waiflike. “Does that mean you don’t want any more kids?”
She turned sharply, her expression aghast. “We both know that isn’t going to happen.” For the length of a heartbeat, she paused. “Don’t we? You took precautions last night.”
“Of course.” Jake could have put more oomph in his reassurance but he hadn’t cared for her vehement denial. “But no method is foolproof.”
Her pensive frown made him sigh. “I wasn’t talking about last night, Ally. I meant in the future.”
“Then the answer is no.” Her bottom lip disappeared again and she shook her head. She was lying. He knew it as surely as he knew his computer password.
He drew her into his arms and whispered against her hair, “Liar.”
She tried to pull away, but Jake kept her arms pinned.
He nuzzled her cheek until she looked up, then he kissed her. Her skin smelled of fresh air and rosemary, which she’d snipped from a plant in Pam’s herb garden to sprinkle on the turkey. He couldn’t remember ever desiring anyone more.
A honking horn made them jump, then spring forward in a reflex response. “Caleb,” Allison cried, her tone pierced with fear.
Jake’s heart raced off the charts until he spotted his godson safely in the driveway, waving to a little boy in the window of a passing sedan. Bradley and his family had returned. Weren’t they supposed to be skiing until after the new year?
Allison’s cheeks were flushed with embarrassment—no doubt realizing they’d been caught in a public embrace. She turned away, but he blocked her escape. “We’re grown-ups, Ally. Mutual affection is allowed. Come on, they’re waiting with the windows down.”
He pulled her with him to the curb. “Merry Christmas, everyone,” he called. “Aren’t you folks home early?”
Marc, who was driving, leaned around Gayle, who looked wrung out, and said, “Had to cut it short. Brad has chicken pox. We wanted to warn you. He probably caught it at preschool, so you all have been exposed.”
Exposed. Perfect word. That’s how Allison felt. To avoid the question she was sure to see in Gayle’s face, Allison stepped to the rear passenger window and tapped on the glass. “Hey, cutie. Not feeling so hot, huh? Got spots?”
Bradley nodded solemnly, then lifted his Spider- Man T-shirt. His chubby white belly looked like a connect-the-dot puzzle that had been slathered with some kind of flaky pink residue. “Poor baby. When did it start?”
His father answered. “He had a fever all day yesterday then broke out this morning. He’s so miserable, we decided to come home.”
“Although if I’d known the resort would refuse to give us even a partial refund, he could have been sick there as well as anywhere,” Gayle said, obviously at odds with her husband about the decision. “I’ll tell you this. We’re never going back there again. Come on, Marc, let’s get our son to bed.” As the car pulled away, Gayle leaned her head out the window and called, “You guys are probably next. I hope you're both immune—adults get this a lot worse than kids. Brace yourselves.”
Caleb got off his bike, but didn’t remove his helmet. “Is Bradley sick? He didn’t even look at my bike.”
Jake tapped on the sleek and stylish molded plastic shell that Allison had insisted they buy, along with knee pads, elbow pads and gloves. Jake didn’t comment on the gear at the time, but Allison was sure he thought she was a neurotic, overprotective mother. “Yeah, pal, he feels real crummy. But you can show him next week, when you’re better.”
Caleb gave him a stem look. “I’m not sick.”
“But you probably will be, sweetie,” Allison said, wracking her memory to recall if he’d ever had the disease. “You and Brad were both exposed to the germs at preschool.”
Jake looked at Allison and groaned. “You realize we’re not going to be able to visit Cordelia, right? We probably put the patients at risk yesterday when we did the Christmas party. Darn. I wish I’d known.”
“It’s not your fault,” Allison said. She prayed Cordelia was immune; the poor woman couldn’t take another setback, medically or emotionally. “Have you had it?”
He shook his head. “I have no idea.”
Allison pictured all the people they’d been in contact with the past week. “I’d better make a few calls. The rehab center, Padre Avila, my mother.”
“Good lord, you mean it’s contagious over the phone?” he quipped.
Allison grinned. She loved his sense of humor. “Hopefully, Mom will tell me that I’m immune,” she said. “I can’t spare a single day this week. It’s make or break time for Jeffries Computing.”
Jake looked as if he might say something—probably some supportive platitude, but he never got the chance. The house phone rang and he dashed inside to answer it. She was glad. If it was Gayle wanting to know if Allison had lost her mind by falling for Jake the Rake, Ally needed time to think of an answer. Why, yes, Gayle, thank you for asking. My mind is on vacation. It’s lovely here in paradise. Warm sands, still water and a hunky cabana boy who thinks I’m great.
“Ally,” Jake hollered, interrupting her silent soliloquy. “That was the padre. He called to wish us Feliz Navidad and wondered if we could meet with him next week. I told him about the chicken pox threat and that we’d have to play it by ear. That work for you?”
Allison nodded. “Fine. And while you’re on the phone, would you call Cordelia? She’s going to be upset. Poor woman. She’ll probably think we planned this as a way to steal her grandson’s affections.”
Jake frowned. Instead of going back inside, he walked to where she was standing. “I’d be happy to call her, but first explain what you meant by that comment.”
Allison groaned. Maybe she was reading too much into the alarm she’d seen in Cordelia’s eyes yesterday. “I was looking at her when Caleb said he wanted us to be his parents. She wasn’t happy. If Cordelia knew we'd...if she knew about last night, it might add to her paranoia, which is totally understandable given all that's happened,” Allison quickly added. “She’s trapped in the hospital and has had to give up control of everything in her grandson’s life. If she thought something had developed romantically between us, I’m sure she’d feel threatened.”
Jake ran a hand through his hair. “Would it shock you if I told you that I’ve been trying to figure out a way to take you and Caleb back to Miami with me?”
Allison felt a shiver pass through her, but she refused to acknowledge the cause behind it. “Yes,” she lied. Then, because of the skeptical look he gave her, confessed, “Okay, I might have given the idea a nanosecond of consideration, but when I wake up out of my daydream, I remember that I’m locked into a thirty-year mortgage and a five-year business plan. I'll be paying off loans till I’m gray if I backed out now.”
“So moving to Miami is not an option, but what if I moved here? Part-time, at least. Two of my clients are in the movie industry. It’s very hip to lead a bicoastal life.”
Allison was momentarily speechless. Jake, h
ere. And there. With the Rollerblading bombshells and five-star restaurants. Something about the image made her stomach turn over. “Naturally, you’ll be welcome here any time. It would be great for Caleb if you could visit often.”
A cloud passed by overhead, turning his eyes a troubled gray. “I wasn’t just thinking about Caleb when I suggested that, Allison. I was thinking about us.”
Us. Allison wasn’t ready to delve into that topic. One, because she knew she wasn’t cosmopolitan enough to handle a long-distance relationship, and two, because she couldn’t get past Pam’s conviction that Jake was wrong for Ally.
Fortunately, Caleb came zooming past at that moment, picking up speed as the driveway sloped down to the garage doors, which were closed. Allison and Jake both turned to watch. Ally held her breath, hoping the brakes worked. They did. He tottered to a stop and waved in triumph. “Did you see me? Did you?”
Tears threatened. Did you see him, Pam?
Jake answered since Allison couldn’t. “We sure did, pal. You’re phe-nom-e-nal. Now, can you pump all the way back up the hill?”
Caleb’s lips set and he nodded. “I can do it.”
They watched him try, but it was soon obvious that he didn’t have the steam to make it. Before going to his godson’s aid, Jake said, “We’ll talk about this later. We’re going to do what’s best for Caleb, but that doesn’t mean we’re not entitled to a life, Allison.”
She agreed. But whether they had any hope of making their lives mesh was another question. And how would Cordelia fit into the picture? The woman had suffered enough. Allison would do anything to avoid causing her more pain.
As she watched him push Caleb up the incline, she decided the metaphor fit. The next couple of weeks were going to be an uphill battle for them all.
Allison was seated at her desk in her office five days later, when a knock on the door made her look up. “Padre,” she said, rising. “Good to see you. And without spots.”
He laughed good-naturedly. “As a child, I contracted every childhood disease known to man. One time I was so sick, my mother promised me to the church if I kept breathing. And here I am—a priest that breathes.”
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