Deliver the Moon

by Rebecca J. Clark

  An arrangement of framed photographs on a middle shelf caught his eye. He circled a wicker rocking chair until he stood directly in front of the twinkling eyes of his son. Joey’s dimples were pronounced as he grinned merrily into the camera, always a ham. He wore denim overalls without a shirt underneath. In a plump hand was one of Louisa’s paintbrushes, dripping with bright red paint. His other hand held a crumpled piece of newsprint he’d just pulled from the short easel set up in front of him. Gabe recalled it had taken forever to get that shot, because Joey kept trying to shove the paintbrush into his mouth, and Louisa kept batting his hand away from his face. Joey had managed to eat more than a little red paint that day.

  As usual, when looking at old pictures, Gabe’s heart tightened almost unbearably as memories of everything he’d lost tumbled into his mind. Memories of laughter and joy, of love and tenderness. Of happiness.

  What he wouldn’t give to have that all back again.

  If his upbringing had taught him anything, he should have realized it was all too good to be true. He had it perfect once, and he blew it.

  Gabe met his son’s merry eyes again, and his hands clenched at his sides. Would this gut-wrenching pain ever go away?

  “Remember he knocked over your tripod right after that shot?” Louisa’s whispered voice was behind him.

  Gabe swung around. She stood in the doorway of the bathroom, hugging herself. “You did everything to catch the darn thing before it toppled over, but then you caught your foot in one of the light cords and ended up falling onto the floor along with everything else.” Her smile was sad.

  The memory was bittersweet, but Gabe couldn’t help chuckling. “Joey thought it was hilarious, didn’t he? Remember how his little cheeks used to shake whenever he laughed really hard?”

  They both stared at Joey’s picture in silence, remembering.

  “I miss him so much, Gabriel,” she finally said.

  He let out a long breath. “Me, too.”

  The sadness and pain in her eyes rivaled his. He wished he could cross the room and take her into his arms. Just hold her.

  She’d changed into jeans and a white T-shirt. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail and her feet were bare. Gabe forced his eyes away. Seeing her like that made it easy to imagine time had taken them back. He remembered many a time he’d been scrounging through his clothes and the laundry for a certain T-shirt, only to find it in one of her drawers. She’d loved to borrow his clothes. Jeans and white T-shirts had always been her mainstay when she was at home. He was glad to see she hadn’t changed, at least in that sense.

  “You want to help me pick the salad?” she asked suddenly, slipping her feet into white canvas tennis shoes.

  “Pick the salad?”

  “I have a little garden out back, just big enough for salad stuff,” she explained.

  As they headed outside, Louisa motioned for him to be quiet. “My mother would have a fit if she knew I’d planted a vegetable garden in her yard,” she whispered, leading him around the corner of her little apartment. “I told the gardener I’d sabotage his shrubs if he ratted on me.”

  Gabe grinned, strangely pleased she was doing something behind her mother’s back. Together, they harvested lettuce, carrots, and tomatoes from the weedless garden. Louisa plucked some strawberries for dessert. He chuckled as they reentered her house.

  “What’s so funny?” She tossed their pickings into the sink and poured water over them.

  Still smirking, he said, “The fact you have to sneak around your own house just amuses me.”

  She smiled. “Well, you know how fanatical my mother is with her yard and gardens, but I figure what she doesn’t know…”

  ****

  She should have known better than to worry about having Gabe here, Louisa mused as they sat down at her small table a little while later. He was the perfect gentleman, obviously not reading anything into the evening that wasn’t there. She was glad Gram invited him. It was good to see him. She sighed with a small smile and dug into her salad.

  “It’s good to see you again, Lou.”

  She licked a speck of dressing from the corner of her lips. His mind always seemed to be on the same wavelength as hers. It was unnerving, to say the least.

  “It’s been a long time since we’ve sat across a table from each other,” he went on when she didn’t respond.

  Since before you left me. In fact, she couldn’t even remember the last time. That final year of their marriage, they’d been strangers at best. They’d rarely eaten dinner with each other, let alone do much of anything else together. Louisa’s lips thinned. The pleasant evening disappeared with the bad memories.

  “I imagine Evan wouldn’t be too happy if he knew I was here,” Gabe said after the silence had stretched on a while.

  She cut the spaghetti into manageable pieces with the edge of her fork. “Probably not,” she finally agreed, putting a small bite into her mouth.

  “That’s quite a ring he got you.”

  She dropped her left hand to her lap, for some reason wanting her engagement ring out of sight.

  “It’s a far cry from the one I gave you, isn’t it?” Gabe’s tone was light, but she knew his expression wasn’t, even without looking at him.

  She shrugged off his question, not telling him that the ring he’d given her, although inexpensive and small, was just as priceless as Evan’s was spendy. She also didn’t tell him that his ring was still inside her jewelry box, tucked carefully into a velvet compartment in the back.

  After a few minutes of eating in silence, Gabe said, “Tell me about you and Evan.”

  She paused in her chewing. After swallowing, she asked, “What do you mean?”

  “How did you two meet?”

  She blinked a couple of times, and heat flooded her face. “My boss is his sister. She introduced us.”

  “Your boss? Are she and Evan close?”

  “Extremely.”

  “Doesn’t that get kind of dicey sometimes? I mean, if you and Evan get into a fight?”

  Louisa twisted her napkin in her lap. “Evan and I don’t fight.”

  “Well. That’s…good.” He cleared his throat. “Does he live here in Seattle?”

  She nodded. “He has a penthouse downtown.”

  “A penthouse.”

  “What’s wrong with a penthouse?”

  Gabe held up his hands. “Nothing is wrong with one.”

  “You had a tone when you said it.”

  “I did not have a tone.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “Okay,” he said, amusement coloring his voice. “What kind of tone did I have?”

  Her head cocked a bit. “One that says you disapprove.”

  “Lou, I live in an apartment myself. Why would I disapprove?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me.” She bit into a piece of crusty French bread. A few crumbs fell to the table.

  “I guess it just surprises me,” he said.

  She finished chewing her bite of bread. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “You’re not the type who would fall for a man who lives in a penthouse.”

  “I’m not the same person I was when we were married, Gabriel,” she said pointedly, staring at him.

  He narrowed his eyes at her and gave a slight nod of his head. “Fair enough. But I would imagine you’ll get into a house after you’re married?”

  “There’s no reason to move. Evan likes his place and so do I. It’s close to both our offices.”

  “You want to raise a family in a penthouse in downtown Seattle?”

  Her chin lifted a notch. “Evan’s children are grown. The youngest is in college.”

  “What about the kids you and Evan will have together?”

  Her pause was very brief, but Gabe noticed. “We don’t plan to have any,” she said quietly, but with a tone that warned him to back off.

  He ignored it. “What? You always wanted a house full of kids.” After Joey was born, she’d talked of
having two or three more. He couldn’t believe she would have changed her mind about that, even with the tragedy of Joey’s death.

  “Like I just told you, I’ve changed,” she said. “Besides, Evan’s been through the whole family thing already.”

  Even though she wasn’t quite looking at him when she spoke, Gabe managed to see the spark of disappointment in her eyes.

  His teeth clenched. So that was it. Evan didn’t want more children, so—all of a sudden—neither did she. It infuriated him to no end that once again Louisa wasn’t fighting for what she wanted. He made his voice calm as he asked, “What about you, Louisa?”

  “I’ve made up my mind, and I’m fine with it.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself of that.

  “Are you sure you’re not just—” Gabe thinned his lips. “Never mind.”

  “Am I sure I’m not just…what?”

  “No.” He gave a swift shake of his head. “It’s none of my business.”

  Louisa directed a pointed look at him. “This whole conversation has been none of your business, but it hasn’t stopped you. Now, what were you going to say?”

  He held back a sigh. “I can’t help wondering if maybe you’re scared to have more kids because of what happened to Joey. That maybe those fears are…letting you go along with Evan’s wish to have no more children.”

  “Of course I’m scared, Gabriel. Wouldn’t you be? I never want to go through that again. I can’t imagine loving something so much just to have it taken from me.” Her voice caught, and she glanced away. “But that has nothing to do with this. Evan doesn’t want to go through the whole diaper routine again. He’s going to be running for office next year, so between his political career and my career…there’s no room for kids.”

  “But you’re only twenty-seven,” he said, his tone softer. He knew an antagonistic approach would only make her dig in her heels further. She was so stubborn. “You don’t think you’ll regret this decision a few years down the road? You were such a wonderful mother.”

  She stuck out her chin in a show of defiance. “We didn’t decide this overnight. Evan and I have talked a lot about it. You and I don’t need to.” She met his gaze squarely, silently daring him to say more.

  Her hazel eyes sparkled with the battle they had just waged, and while Gabe was annoyed at the content of their conversation, he was glad to see not all the fight had gone out of her. He dipped his head a bit, silently agreeing to drop the subject.

  Louisa’s shoulders relaxed, and she started in on her spaghetti again. He studied her unchecked for a few moments, seeing how her gaze focused on her plate, how her hand trembled almost imperceptibly as she ate. “When’s the big day?” he asked.

  Her shoulders straightened and she met his eyes. “What? Oh. Evan is thinking about next spring. His campaign will just be getting underway, but we’d still be able to sneak away for a honeymoon. My mother is trying to talk us into a Christmas wedding—you know, red and green, poinsettias and holly.”

  “I suppose you’ll have a formal ceremony this time around?”

  Her entire body stiffened under his gaze. She took a long time in answering. He knew she was thinking, just as he was, about their own small wedding with just her immediate family in attendance. It had been in a church, and she had worn white, but that had been the extent of the formalities. Her family had simply refused to pay for anything more elaborate, opposed as they were to the union.

  “I suppose,” she finally said. After another bout of silence, she giggled nervously. “There will probably be a major family fight about the wedding. Evan wants to keep it small because this is a second marriage for both of us, but Mother wants the whole kit and caboodle.”

  “What do you want, Lou?” Once again, her opinion seemed lost in the shuffle.

  She shrugged. “I haven’t really given it much thought yet.”

  He wanted to tell her to speak her mind, to tell them what she wanted, but he didn’t. It hadn’t done any good when they were married, and it looked like she hadn’t changed much since then. She was still letting her family control her life. And she was obviously granting Evan Payne the same privileges.

  They ate in silence. “You’re quiet all of a sudden,” Gabe said.

  “I just feel awkward talking to you about Evan.”

  “You should never be embarrassed talking about the man you’re going to marry. The man you love.”

  She’d always been a little embarrassed of him, because he didn’t meet her parents’ expectations. It had been a source of countless arguments. From the way her cheeks turned red, he knew she understood his double meaning.

  “You’re right of course. I’m lucky to have Evan. He’s a wonderful man, he’s smart, and he’s very good to me. And, of course, my parents love him.”

  Implying, of course, that they’d never loved him. She probably hadn’t meant her words to come out like that, but she couldn’t retract them now.

  “Well, I’m glad they’re finally going to get a son-in-law to their liking. Evan will fit right in, won’t he?” He couldn’t control the bitter edge to his words. He dug in to his spaghetti.

  “Gabriel,” she said slowly in a half-scolding, half-apologetic voice. “My family never…disliked you as much as you think they did.”

  He put down his fork and leaned onto his elbows. “Quit fooling yourself, Lou. Your family hated me from the day they found out you were pregnant.”

  “That’s not true,” she countered weakly, fruitlessly.

  “They didn’t like me when you and I were just friends. The only reason they tolerated me then was because they hoped hanging out with me was just a bad stage you were going through.”

  “That’s not true, Gabriel,” she repeated even more weakly.

  If she believed that, then she’d forgotten the accusations her parents had thrown at him when Louisa told them she was pregnant. She’d been 19 to his 25. Normally, six years difference would be no big deal. But for a girl barely out of high school, 25 was “worldly” and 30 was positively ancient. Her parents had accused him of robbing the cradle, seducing an innocent young virgin for his own vile desires, only being interested in her for her money…They’d never accepted the couple married for love not necessity.

  “Come on, Louisa. You’re not still pretending everything was hunky-dory between me and your parents, are you?”

  Her chin jutted out. “Maybe things weren’t perfect, but you certainly didn’t go out of your way to better their opinion of you.”

  Still defending them. He scowled. “And neither did you.”

  Her chair scraped against the floor as she stood up. She cleared the table with a loud clatter of ceramic and stainless steel, not bothering to ask if he was finished.

  Gabe leaned back into his chair and closed his eyes. He could hear her furiously tossing the dishes into the sink. He should have kept his mouth shut on this whole conversation. He’d wanted to enjoy her company after being without it for so long, not to fight with her. Fighting had been their sole method of communication that last year of their marriage. He figured it was wishful thinking to suppose things would have changed between them.

  When Louisa finally emerged from the kitchen, she practically threw a bowl of strawberries and whipped cream in front of him before sitting down across the table. Her anger radiated in the set of her shoulders, the jutting of her chin. He should say something to break the tension, but anything he might say would be greeted with about as much enthusiasm as an Amway sales pitch.

  “You’ve got whipped cream on your chin,” Gabe said.

  All animosity disappeared as she crinkled up her nose. “I do?” She dabbed her chin with a napkin.

  “It’s still there.” He reached over the small table to point out where the elusive topping was. When she still didn’t get it, he grinned and swiped it off with the tip of his finger. Without thinking, he sucked the whipped cream off then reached back to get a bit he’d missed.

  As his fingers grazed
her chin again, she closed her eyes. Knowing he really shouldn’t, he wiped the remaining cream with his thumb, then, cupping her chin, he brushed his thumb lightly across her mouth.

  “Gabriel. Don’t.” Her whisper slid from quivering lips.

  When he pulled his hand away, she shoved out of her chair and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Gabe started to stand, then decided against it. He left her alone, knowing she didn’t want him in that small room with her, knowing he didn’t trust himself to be in that small room with her.

  As several minutes ticked by and she hadn’t come back and he couldn’t hear any movement from the kitchen, he finally rose. He found her with her hands braced against the counter, leaning into her arms.

  “Lou?”

  When she looked up at him, he expected to see tears. But her eyes were clear, dry, and wary. Very wary. “I want you to leave, Gabriel. Please.”

  He released a long breath. “Lou, I’m sorry.”

  “No need to apologize. Nothing happened.” She turned to rest her hip against the counter, arms hugging her waist.

  Then why do you want me to leave? His world had stopped for a moment as he’d touched her. He shouldn’t have touched her. He couldn’t have her. She was promised to another man now.

  He’d come back one damn day too late.

  Chapter Five

  Friday night, Louisa flew into Evan’s arms when she picked him up at SeaTac International Airport.

  “Boy, I should go away more often.” He straightened the lapels of his beige suit.

  For the first half of their ride into downtown Seattle, Louisa kept her head on Evan’s shoulder as he told her about his trip, in which he tried to generate funds and support for his upcoming election as a mayoral candidate. When there was a pause in conversation, she said against his jacket, “I’m afraid you’re going to be mad at me when I tell you something, Evan.”