The Resilient Bride

by Lucy McConnell

  Villas, hillside vineyards, and farms provided a steady dose of the Italian experience. Kiera reminded Liam to take his meds—not the heavy painkillers he took on the flight, but a lighter dose. She’d watched him swim farther and farther out into the sea, her heart pounding against her ribs. When she couldn’t take it anymore, when the fear of losing him grew too strong, she called out, and he’d returned without hesitation. That one act had permeated her with trust in Liam.

  Twenty minutes after taking his pill, his whole body sagged. Fighting against the drag was a battle he wasn’t going to win. The crowded train didn’t leave much room for him to stretch out, so Kiera had him lay his head in her lap. She dragged her fingers through the short hair on the back of his head over and over again, until he fell asleep. Twisting in her seat, she continued to play with Liam’s hair while the world flew past the window. Being around someone who was so open about dying should have been depressing, but being with Liam was thrilling, fun, and she found herself contented with where she was, who she was, and whom she’d married.

  David returned a short time later from the convenience store set up in the back car. His arms were loaded with bags of chips, animal crackers, sub sandwiches, and colas. He plopped into the seat across from Kiera and took in the scene. “You two seem comfortable.” He dumped his loot into the empty seat beside him and sorted through it.

  Kiera shifted. “He needs sleep.”

  “Uh-huh. And he just happened to land in your lap.” David popped open a bag of chips.

  Kiera looked down at Liam’s face, so peaceful and content. The effects of their whirlwind Italian tour faded as he slumbered. She rested her hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know what it is with him. I feel …” She grasped for the correct word. “… safe. No, that’s not right. I mean, I do feel safe. It’s something else.” Her eyes drifted back out to the green hills and blue skies. “It’s not something I’m used to, so I’m not sure I can describe it.”

  David grunted and went back to sorting the food. “Ham or turkey?”

  “Turkey.” Kiera accepted the sandwich and did her best to eat without dropping crumbs. As she chewed, she pondered David’s reaction to her and Liam. He seemed almost jealous. And why shouldn’t he be? Kiera had waltzed into their boys’ club and planted herself right next to his brother. Maybe David was upset that she was taking Liam’s time—their time—and Liam’s attention.

  “Oh.” He reached over to the pile of snacks and pulled out a small bar of chocolate. “The highest quality available on a cross-country train, for the purist.”

  “How did you know?” Kiera joked. Their hands brushed, sending warmth up her arm and flooding her body. “Listen, David.” Kiera wrapped the remainder of her sandwich and set it aside. “If I am in the way, I can go.”

  David stopped mid-bite. “Go?”

  “Yeah. I don’t want to take away your time with Liam. If you’d rather it just be the two of you, I understand.”

  “You think I want you to leave?”

  “Well, you sounded upset that I’m here.” She gestured to Liam lying across her lap. “I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to take your place.”

  David snorted. “That’s not what I think.”

  “Then why …?”

  He looked at his brother and then abruptly got to his feet. “I’m going to get some water—do you want some?”

  Confused at what she’d done to make David upset with her, Kiera shook her head. Feeling the warmth leave right along with David, Kiera slid her hand over Liam’s chest. He snuggled his back deeper into the seat and sighed.

  “At least one of you is glad I’m here,” Kiera whispered.

  She didn’t see David for the rest of the ride. He joined them right as they were about to get off. She hung back, thinking it would be best to let the brothers make plans instead of jumping in.

  “Which way’s the beach?” David’s tone carried a false note of cheer.

  Liam gave him a look. “Siri says go left four blocks, and our destination is on the right.”

  “Let’s get on with it. Ella secured a villa not far from here and will have a car pick us up at six; dinner will be waiting.” David moved ahead.

  “Sounds heavenly.” Liam chuckled. “What if heaven really is an Italian villa with all-you-can-eat pasta al dente?”

  David shook his head and started off.

  Kiera watched him go, her heart troubled.

  “Don’t mind him. He’s been grumpy since he heard his brother was dying.” Liam offered his hand. Kiera took it, unsure if being close to Liam in front of David was a good idea.

  “I can’t blame him. I was scared and hurt and angry watching my mom go through chemo.”

  Liam’s steps slowed. “Your mom has cancer?”

  “Had. She’s in remission.”

  “How long ago?”

  “She was diagnosed three years ago. It was a tough time.” Not just because of the cancer—Kiera had been married to Jack for just three days before he began tearing her apart. Nothing she did could please him, and more often than not she’d cry herself to sleep. The next morning, he’d tell her she looked like an alley cat with mange and insist she clean up before leaving her room so as not to offend him. Jack never laid a hand on her, but he’d beaten her up every day for four months. Spiritually and emotionally battered, she’d escaped to face the possibility of losing her mom.

  “Is she doing well?”

  Her first marriage would be tucked away, far away from where it could cloud Liam’s brightness. He didn’t need to carry any of her sorrow—not now and not ever. “As well as can be expected. In fact, I should call her tonight and at least leave a message.”

  “You’re close?”

  “We’ve been living together to save money. Chemo isn’t cheap.”

  Liam grinned. “Yet another reason to avoid it.”

  They reached the sand and kicked off their sandals. Liam took off at a sprint. “Last one in the water has to wash dishes tonight.”

  David dropped his bag and took off after Liam. Kiera followed a little slower, letting them have their race. She’d done dishes every night since she was old enough to reach the sink, and would do them every night for the rest of her life if it would get David’s smile back.

  9

  By the time they retired to a villa in Gaeta, Liam had sand in places he didn’t want to think about, and Kiera had a nice tan line on her beautifully sculpted shoulders. A warm dinner of sausage tortellini filled the sandstone house with tantalizing aromas and a feeling of contentment. Ella had added her signature touches: truffles on the pillows, shampoo and soap in the showers, and fresh flowers on the table in the entryway and dining room.

  She took care of so many details, Liam and David didn’t think about how the chef was paid or who would return the rental car. Though the ability to survive and even thrive without concern had been what he’d asked for, it allowed too much time to contemplate life, the universe, and everything in between. In the past, he’d kept these thoughts to himself. That was no longer an option as his time grew short.

  Leaning back, his right arm crooked over the seatback, Liam asked Kiera, “What do you think death is like?” He had his own ideas, but wanted her perspective. She’d faced this with her mom, and, heaven bless her for it, she was facing death with him. Her ability to discuss the subject would ease much of his loneliness.

  David also turned his full attention to Kiera, who swirled a piece of bread through the sauce on her plate. Liam judged David’s mood and found him open to the conversation.

  “I’ve seen a few people d—” Her eyes flicked to David and she amended her word choice. “… pass on. For the person leaving, there’s this peace that envelops them.”

  “Yeah?” Liam took a sip of water. “But do they have chocolate in heaven?”

  She tossed her hair out of her face. “Where do you think the first cocoa beans fell from?”

  They chuckled.

  “How do the
families handle it?” Liam pressed.

  Kiera dropped the bread onto her plate and wiped her fingers on a napkin. “Every person handles it in a different way. There are several types of grievers, and within those, they vary by degrees. As a nurse, you learn to work with each one.”

  “What do you mean by different types?” David leaned back in his chair and threw one arm over the seatback, mimicking Liam’s posture. Liam smiled—even when he left, David would carry pieces of him. He’d never be forgotten, not really.

  Kiera took a deep breath. “Some people use humor to get through. They joke about dying, about losing a hundred and fifty pounds in a day, stuff like that.”

  “That’s you.” David pointed at Liam.

  Kiera smiled at the two of them. “Others feel the need to control what they can in an uncontrollable situation. They pick out a casket, plan the funeral, preorder flowers—that kind of thing.”

  “That’s you too.” David tipped his glass towards Liam.

  “Oh?” Kiera cocked her head.

  “He has his coffin, burial suit … he even knows where he wants to be when he passes on.” He tipped his glass towards Kiera, acknowledging her use of a kinder term than dying.

  Not wanting to bring their conversation to a grinding halt, which discussing the details of The Plan always seemed to do with David, Liam asked, “Are there more types?”

  Kiera nodded. “Sure. Some people can accept that it’s happening on one level, but they think that if they push it away, it won’t come to pass.”

  “That’s you.” Liam pointed at David. “He hates to talk about it.”

  “That’s natural, and each person should be allowed to grieve in their own way and come to terms with things in their own time.” She considered David. “It might be helpful if you had someone outside the situation to talk to.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he grumbled.

  Liam caught Kiera’s eye and gave a little shake of his head. She dropped the get-a-therapist talk and continued. “Then, there are those who refuse to face reality. They continue on as if nothing is wrong. Their behavior can seem cold and offensive, but in reality, they suffer deeply.”

  Liam and David said, “Mom.”

  At Kiera’s questioning gaze, Liam attempted to explain. “Dad died over a year ago from the same thing. In fact, it was because of him that I went in for a screening.”

  “We both did,” muttered David.

  Kiera reached for Liam’s hand under the table.

  Liam laced their fingers together, once again unbelieving of the circumstances that brought Kiera into his life. “When I told Mom, she went cold and shut me down. I call and it’s the celebrity dinner this and the auction that.”

  “She doesn’t mind hearing about what we’re doing as long as we don’t mention doctors, hospitals, tests, cell count, or medications,” David added.

  “I can burn through my inheritance, but I’m not allowed to get cancer,” Liam groused.

  “Money can be replaced. Children can’t.” Kiera’s voice was like a warm hug on a cold day.

  “Do you want kids?” Liam asked.

  Kiera withdrew her hand, her cheeks turning crimson. “Um.”

  Liam laughed at her reaction. “Not now.”

  She sipped her water.

  “Well?” prodded David.

  Kiera squared her shoulders. “I’d love children, a family, chaotic Christmas mornings, a blanket fort in the living room, all of it.”

  “It sounds like heaven,” said Liam, thinking that she had described his paradise to a T. “I hope you get it.” Patting his very full and bloated stomach, Liam smiled. “I think I’m ready for another one of those pills. The big ones.”

  Kiera set her napkin on her plate. “They’re in your medicine cabinet.”

  “Tuck me in?” Liam asked, doing his best to look pitiful and hopeful at the same time.

  Kiera laughed. “Fine.”

  “Great.” He jumped to his feet and grabbed her hand. “Will you tell me a story?” Liam couldn’t explain why he reverted to his childhood request. He almost remembered his parents lifting the blankets across his shoulders and kissing his forehead. As they’d talked about his mom and dad, he’d felt a need to be coddled and cared for. Like all his years as a grownup had flown off to Neverland.

  “Just one. And it’s short.”

  “Good night,” Liam called over his shoulder to David.

  “Night,” David replied.

  Liam changed into his pajamas in the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and presented himself to Kiera. “I’m ready.”

  Kiera shook her head and pulled back the covers. Liam hopped in. She handed him a pill and a bottle of water. He made short work of them both before burrowing into the five pillows Kiera had arranged for him. She would make an excellent blanket and pillow fort. “How do you know where to put the pillows?”

  “They teach us in nursing school,” she replied as she pulled the blankets up.

  “You know, they say the older you get, the more childish you become.”

  “Then David must be exactly middle-aged.”

  Liam snorted. “He wasn’t always like this. He used to be fun.”

  “No!” Kiera gasped in false astonishment.

  Liam stared at the blanket. “In some ways, cancer stole my brother too.”

  “Aw.” Kiera sat on the bed next to him and ran her fingers through his hair.

  “I like it when you do that. It feels nice. Like you care.”

  “Good. Because I do care.”

  Liam rolled to his side, facing Kiera. “Thank you,” he said, before relaxing into her touch and drifting to sleep.

  10

  Kiera stayed at Liam’s side a few more minutes, contemplating how she could already care for a man she’d known for just a couple days. Though, it didn’t seem like they’d only known one another for that short of time. Giving him a kiss on the forehead, she slipped from the room, leaving the door ajar so she could hear him in the night if needed.

  Her room was across the hall and just as beautiful as Liam’s with granite tile floors, rough textured walls painted in cream and then oiled to make them look as old as the city, and a king-size four-poster bed with gauzy fabric circling the red and gold coverlet. Her suitcase was tucked away in the walk-in closet, and her clothes had been hung on the racks or laid on the shelves. The swimsuit and cover-up she’d shucked before dinner had been washed and dried while she ate. She fingered the fabric, her eyes blurring with unshed tears. As much as she took care of others, having someone look after her was a rarity that allowed her to be weak and safe all at the same time. She changed into her long-sleeved cotton pajamas and folded her jeans and shirt to give her tears time to dry before leaving her room.

  Contemplating her odd connection with Liam, she made her way to the kitchen to tackle the dishes. Intent on saving the staff at least this small task, she rolled up her sleeves, only to find David at the sink. The muscles in his arms bulged and clenched in the most attractive way as he attacked a plate with a scouring pad. Those calendars with the firefighters had it all wrong. A hot guy doing dishes was the way to go.

  “Hey. Put down the bubbles and back away.” Kiera bumped David aside. “I lost the dare fair and square.” She took the suds-covered scouring pad, grabbed the plate from his hands, and rinsed both under warm water.

  David shook the water off his fingers. “I’ll dry.” Gone was the smile and rough-and-tumble older brother from the beach. Instead of trying to cheer him up, Kiera allowed him the chance to just feel rotten about things. They fell into an easy rhythm, each one elbow deep in their own thoughts.

  Kiera asked the question that had been nagging at her since their conversation at dinner. “Do you believe we existed before birth?”

  “What do you mean?” David stacked the last plate on the counter. Leaning his hip against the cabinet, he looked like Misters June, July, and August all rolled into one with his shirt straining across his shoulders and
his biceps all round and big.

  Kiera ducked her head. “Is it possible that we—well, not we as in you and me—but that people could have known each other before they were born?” She hazarded a glance and found David’s brow lowered and his shoulders hunched. “Sorry. If you don’t want to talk about this stuff, it’s okay.”

  David scratched his five-o’clock shadow. “I’m fine talking about birth; it’s the other direction I don’t want to face.”

  Kiera picked up a glass and swirled the soapy washcloth around the lip. We’re all headed that direction.

  “I guess it’s possible,” David continued. “Is it probable? I don’t know. There have been billions of people born since time began. If you don’t believe in reincarnation, then that’s a lot of souls all together in heaven, which is what, as big as space? So the likelihood of being born at the same time as a—what would you call them—heavenly friend? Let alone being born on the same street or country or even continent would be pretty slim.”

  Kiera nodded. “Unless it was part of God’s plan.”

  “Well, they say that with God, all things are possible.”

  “They? You don’t believe that?”

  David dried the glass. “I can’t even begin to understand how God can let my brother d— pass on. I mean, did He give Liam cancer?”

  Kiera set a used glass in the sink. “I’ve had several patients and their families ask the same question.”

  “What do you tell them?”

  “Nothing that soothes the pain or makes it okay. I just say that our bodies are imperfect and mortal and will remain that way until the resurrection. Which is a free gift. Everyone will be resurrected and be made whole. We’ll all be together again in eternity, surrounded by God’s perfect love.”

  “That’s a nice thought.”

  Kiera washed the last fork and dropped it in the sink to rinse. “It was the one thought that got me through my mom’s chemo. Knowing I could lose her, after all I’d done, the hours of pleading for her life before the Lord. He never promised me she’d stick around.”