In the Cards

by Jamie Beck

“Do you regret loving him?” I press, seeking insight from a stranger. Jesus, I’ve lost my mind.

  “No.” She draws a slow breath. “We shared as many good moments as bad ones. My only real regret is that I took him back time after time. I wish I’d been stronger . . . respected myself more.”

  She smiles at me even as Ronnie huffs at my diverted attention. “Is this why you’re sitting here, alone, drinking? Trying to get over someone?” Callie asks.

  I raise one eyebrow, slightly embarrassed at being busted. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?”

  “Let’s just say I’m having a major case of the ‘what ifs.’ ” I smile at her and drain my wineglass.

  “Oh!” Her brows rise. “You’d better hurry up and fix it before it’s too late. You can risk your pride and gain the girl or keep your pride but lose the girl.”

  Ronnie cuts in again. “Now you’re dishing out relationship advice?”

  I really dislike Ronnie. Why has Callie saddled herself with this pseudo-friend?

  “Thank you, darlin’, for listening and for sharing your story. I hope you find your Prince Charming some day. In the meantime, don’t be anyone’s doormat. You deserve better.”

  She blushes. I stand and nod good-bye to Ronnie.

  Sitting in my car, I replay my conversation and think about Lindsey. I’ve never told her how much she means to me. Of course, taking her to Atlanta should have proven something to the woman. Don’t actions speak louder than words? Regardless, my stomach burns when considering her moving away.

  I’d gone to Atlanta hoping to close the lid on my past by facing Mama. Perhaps all I accomplished was substituting one extreme brush-off with another.

  I certainly didn’t help my case by yelling at Lindsey after Rob showed up on her doorstep. Instead of pouring my heart out, I walked out.

  Not Rob; he kept his cool. He’s outplayed me all summer with the flowers and presents. Well, if I’m going down, I’m going down fighting.

  On my way out of town, I stop at a jewelry store. I’ve never bought jewelry for a woman. Desperate times call for desperate measures. I skim over the light-filled glass cases loaded with formal-looking pieces. None of that stuff looks like Lindsey to me. Plus, considering her upbringing, she probably owns all the platinum and diamonds she can wear.

  In the corner of the store, I spy a collection of casual, bohemian necklaces by an outfit selling under the name Love Heals. That’s so corny, but apt to our situation. Plus, Lindsey strikes me as the corny, sentimental type.

  One necklace, made of pearls spaced loosely along a thin, brown leather strap with a silver floret clasp, catches my eye. It can be worn as one long strand, or wrapped two or three times along the collarbone. It looks like Lindsey to me, sporty yet feminine.

  I picture Lindsey, naked in my bed, wearing it coiled around her neck. I want the image to be real. Even if she takes off, I’d like her to take this little remembrance of me with her. Whatever happens, I know she didn’t fall into bed with me easily. I doubt I could feel so much if she felt too little. I probably have just one last shot at convincing her to stay. I’d better make it count.

  Almost two hours later, I arrive safely home. My back’s screaming at me for being so boneheaded today. I spent too much time in the car. That, plus I strained it over the past two days in bed with Lindsey.

  Rob’s rental car isn’t in Lindsey’s driveway. Her house looks dark. Are they out to dinner? Surely she didn’t pack up and leave without saying good-bye. Then again, Rob might have pressured her to leave immediately. I frown at the possibility.

  My back hurts when I exit my car, so I decide to run inside and grab a painkiller before I go over to her house. I try to hurry because time is no longer on my side.

  Once inside, I head straight to the kitchen. I set the gift on the counter and look for aspirin, but then I feel an electric awareness. I turn the corner and stop. Lindsey’s curled up asleep on my sofa. She’s here, in my house, and Rob’s car is nowhere nearby.

  She senses me watching her, stirs, and sits up, blinking in confusion. The pain in my back dissipates instantly, but my lungs feel compressed.

  Lindsey

  Levi’s standing across the room, guarded, saying nothing. All my planned speeches and sentiments vaporize. I’m rooted to the cushion, unable to manage a fully formed thought.

  “You’re home.” My paper-thin voice drifts through the air.

  “You’re here.” His face remains contemplative.

  I’m going to have to take the first step. I knew it would be the case. Levi’s not comfortable with emotional declarations. Even if he were hopelessly in love with me, he’d never admit it first. Love’s never brought him anything but heartache, so he doesn’t trust it.

  Dating Levi will require a lot of patience, but I can’t walk away. I hope he’ll give us a chance.

  “Where have you been all day?” I hold my breath.

  “Santa Barbara. How long have you been here?”

  “A few hours.” I bite my lip. Will he be sarcastic and accuse me of snooping again?

  “Where’s Rob?” Levi steps a little closer, but his arms remain folded in front of his chest. His anxious eyes pin me in place while he waits for my answer.

  Shrugging, I check my watch. “Cooling his heels at LAX, I hope.”

  Levi hesitates. Did I see a smile? He takes another step in my direction.

  “Will you be joining him?” The silence is broken only by the rasping sounds of Levi’s shallow breath.

  I shake my head. “No.”

  I expect him to smile, but he narrows his eyes.

  “Why not?”

  His need for reassurance runs so deep. He truly is a wounded soldier in need of rescue, if ever I met one. Lucky for him, I’m the perfect woman for the job. I’ll love every minute of it.

  “I’d rather stay here . . . with you.” Now it’s my turn to hold my breath. What if he doesn’t want more than a casual fling?

  I scan his face, praying for a grin, but he turns and walks back toward the kitchen without saying a word. I can’t breathe. He walked away?

  Thankfully, he returns quickly, carrying a small bag in his hand. When he sits on the coffee table, I resist the impulse to touch him. He faces me and drops the bag in my lap.

  “I bought you a gift.” He straightens his back, grimacing from what I presume is back pain.

  “Wow. I’m stunned.” My eyes shift between him and the bag. “What did I do to deserve a present?”

  He evades the question by asking his own. “Don’t you want to open it?” One brow quirks up while a grin forms. I love those wonderful dimples.

  I gingerly open the bag and pull out a flat, square box. It’s a jewelry case. Involuntarily, I gulp. My mind scatters in several directions. When he left my house this morning, he’d been dour. Why, between then and now, did he decide to purchase jewelry . . . for me? I open the box and lift a funky pearl and leather necklace from the case.

  My mouth falls open in surprise. I lace it through my fingers and hold it up for inspection. Blinking back tears, I look at Levi, who’s nervously observing my reaction.

  “It’s beautiful. I love it.” I twist it around my neck twice and continue touching it. “I don’t understand. Why’d you buy this for me, Levi?”

  He’s battling to find the words. My heart grows larger just watching him work so hard for me.

  “I’m not good at talking about feelings. Hell, until recently, I hadn’t experienced so many of them.” He smiles to himself and then looks at me. “Earlier you asked me to tell you what to do. I wouldn’t, but not because I didn’t care about the outcome. When I left your house this morning, I’d convinced myself you’d be leaving. I vowed not to let it affect me. So I took off for the day, the way I used to before you came along. It didn’t take long to realize nothing’s the same without you. I came back hoping to talk you into staying here. I figured the necklace might help advance my cause.”

  “Turns out you did
n’t need the necklace after all.” I lean forward to kiss him. Within two seconds, he’s pinned me back against the sofa with a hungry kiss.

  He drags his lips from mine, wincing. “Sorry, it feels like someone’s using my back as a dartboard. Scoot over. I need to lie down. I think I’ve pushed too hard these past few days with all the travel and other activity.”

  Once he’s on his back, I burrow against him and lay my head against his chest to listen to his slow, heavy heartbeat. His fingers comb through my hair, and he kisses the top of my head.

  “Lindsey, are you sure about me? It’s nearly impossible for me to trust anything good to last. And I’ve never been in a relationship. I can’t make many promises, but I swear I’ll never lie to you or take you for granted.”

  Exhausted from the emotional fallout with Rob, I’m not particularly in the mood for a serious discussion at this moment. But this is important. I touch his face.

  “Would you consider a suggestion?”

  “Sure.”

  I take a deep breath. “Well, you’ve mentioned your inability to trust, your disinterest in emotional intimacy, your feelings of unworthiness—”

  “Can we skip to the point, rather than reciting all of my faults?” He cuts me off, but his fingers continue to lightly skim up and down the length of my arm.

  “I wouldn’t call them faults. Learned habits, perhaps.” My fingers brush along his collarbone. “Anyway, the point is, maybe you should consider talking to someone, professionally, who can help you. Especially now, since you’ve seen your mother and everything’s been dragged to the forefront.”

  He’s silent for a minute. “Is this a condition of your decision to stay?”

  “No.” I caress his chest. “But I think it would help us if you heal some of the damage your parents caused and learn to have faith in love.”

  I feel his lips on my scalp. “I’ll consider it.”

  I smile and prop myself up to kiss him.

  “ ‘Have faith in love.’ ” He toys with my necklace. “Does that mean you love me?”

  I bury my hands in his hair, kiss his neck, and whisper into his ear, “Yes, I believe I do.”

  His eyes glow in response. “That’s good.” He kisses me with possessive need. “Then we’re both all in.”

  All in. His fingertips trace along my jaw, down my neck, and over my breast. “You were opposed to staying here last night. Are you still boycotting my bedroom, or can we move this reunion upstairs later?”

  Embarrassed by the memory of my silly declaration, I blush. “The boycott’s over.”

  EPILOGUE

  August 2014

  Levi

  Everywhere I look, Lindsey’s presence is evident. She moved in with me several months ago, after her lease expired. Since then, she’s started a slow campaign to modify the decor.

  My monochromatic color scheme’s been punctuated with splashes of turquoise and silver. Gleaming silver picture frames now adorn the tables and shelves. Fresh-cut flowers are often in the living room and bedroom. Half my old books are boxed up and have been replaced with vases, statuettes, and other such nonsense. My bathroom now smells like grapefruit and perfume.

  I have to count to ten every time I open a closet or cabinet. The girl simply can’t keep anything orderly, despite her efforts to try. At least she’s trying not to leave her things piled up on counters anymore. All in all, the small sacrifices on my part are worth it, since having her here full time is pretty close to heaven.

  This past fall she got admitted as a volunteer and assigned two cases. She spends about fifteen hours each week working on them, takes on some freelance writing assignments, and has been outlining a book about foster care. Other than that, we’ve been attached at the hip. She’s even become a decent cook, with a lot of help from me. Her new confidence has spurred her to start entertaining friends at our house—another first for me. While I wouldn’t claim to look forward to chatting all night with the boyfriends or husbands of her few new pals, I love seeing her animated and cheerful.

  Every morning I wake up awed by the impact she’s had on my life and my own happiness. It’s hard to remember I once preferred being alone. I’ve feared love for so long. While I won’t lie and pretend I don’t get anxious, I’ll never regret the leap of faith I took with Lindsey.

  My head doc’s helping me address my trust issues, but all in all, things have proceeded smoothly for Lindsey and me. Waking up next to her, hanging around the house or walking on the beach, or even just sitting together, working independently—it’s all better with her than without her.

  As for her family, Bill’s become pleasant, but I may never win Helene’s approval. In her mind, I’m not good enough for her baby. I probably can’t argue the point. So, I’ve laid low around Helene, hoping not to provoke her. The few times Lindsey returned to Connecticut to visit her parents, I stayed behind. I wouldn’t care about Helene, except I know it’s important to Lindsey. Eventually, she and I will have to come to an understanding, preferably sooner than later.

  I’ve met Jill twice now. She took Lindsey’s decision to stay in California pretty hard and, during her first visit, grilled me to make sure I was good enough for her friend. I can’t understand how two women different as night and day are so close, but perhaps old bonds can’t be broken. I sure wouldn’t know anything about that. In any case, she’s not trying to break us apart, so I keep my mouth shut. I only have to tolerate her antagonistic sense of humor in small doses, which I can handle. And ultimately, despite her odd way of showing it, she cares for Lindsey.

  Lindsey’s birthday is next week. I’m planning on surprising her with an engagement ring. I’ve debated whether it’s too soon, but we’re happy and settled, and I don’t see any good reason to put it off. I want to make things official. Doc thinks it’s my way of needing to feel in control. That may be partly true, but mostly I just want to make her my wife. I want to know she’s obligated to stick it out with me, for better or worse.

  She’s been down this road before, though. Planned a life and a big wedding, only to see it all fall apart. I’m going to do whatever I can to distinguish our relationship from her former one. To start, I picked a feminine, contemporary ring that I’m confident doesn’t resemble what Rob gave her. It’s unique, just like her. So, if I can pull off my surprise proposal, and she says yes, I’ll be living with turquoise and decorative pillows for the rest of my life.

  Lindsey

  Levi chartered a private jet for my birthday and refused to tell me where we’d be going. We’ve come so far since last year’s birthday debacle. The closeness we share is the only gift worth having this year, in my opinion. Despite our vast differences, at heart we share the same needs and goals. He’s not out to prove anything to anyone other than himself. He’s physically and emotionally available to me almost any time. He’s not embarrassed by demonstrative shows of affection. Having finally created my own happiness, I’ve no regrets about Rob, New York, or my parents.

  Levi’s been working hard with his physical therapy and his shrink. He’s back on his surfboard, which I now know is one of his favorite activities. One of our only real arguments is over that awful motorcycle. I hate and fear it. But it’s one of the very few areas he’s unwilling to compromise. When he goes for a ride, I hold my breath until he returns. He’s made a lot of accommodations for me, so I try to bite my tongue these days when he takes off on that contraption.

  As for his emotional therapy, it’s been tough. Levi’s gradually coming to terms with the fact that his father died before they reconciled. Despite their unconventional life and relationship, Levi loved him. My heart breaks to think about it, and yet I’m awed at what a good, honest man Levi became, notwithstanding his father’s influence.

  We haven’t heard from Levi’s mother. I doubt he’ll ever fully resolve that anger, but at least he’s working hard to overcome the issues her actions created. She probably destroyed his ability to completely trust in my, or anyone’s, love, but e
ach day he wakes up beside me with a smile and allows himself to be vulnerable more often.

  Sometimes I’m amazed at how willing he’s been to make changes. Mostly, I love the way he’s so genuinely happy to please me and to support my needs and dreams. I can only hope he’s getting as much from me as he’s giving. If only my mother could be more accepting. I know, however, that day is years away, if ever.

  When we landed in Fort Myers, I could barely speak. I knew, then, where he planned to take me. My smile grew broader with each mile nearer we came to the Sugar Sands Beach Resort. For a tough guy, he can be wildly romantic and sentimental when he sets his mind to it. It’s been interesting to revisit the place we first met. During this trip we sat at the very bar where he refused to serve me. When I look at him now, I still get the same flutters I experienced so many years ago. We’ve kept busy for three days, but now we’re sharing our final evening here, where it all began.

  I’m sitting at the dinner table, finishing my dessert, when he presents a gift—neatly wrapped, of course.

  “Can I open this now?” I ask, eyeing the pink-and-yellow box.

  “Not here. Come on.” He reaches for my hand and then leads me out of the hotel and toward the beach. “One more stop.”

  Pink and yellow ribbons of cloud and sky light up the beach. Distracted by the scenery, I don’t notice Levi’s brought me to rest at a chaise lounge in the sand near the cabana where we fought eight years ago. My pulse begins to race, wondering what he’s got up his sleeve.

  He sits beside me and hands me the gift. When I unwrap it, I find a copy of The Celestine Prophecy, which he’s inscribed.

  To the beautiful woman who knew, before I did, that destiny brought us together. Thank you for loving me and making my life better than I’d ever dreamed possible. Happy birthday.

  Love,

  Levi

  Tears slip from my eyes while I smile and turn the book over in my hands. When I look up for Levi, he’s kneeling in the sand holding another, smaller box.

  My body trembles. My hand shakes as I take the box from him. Inside, a fiery white diamond, set in a simple yet interesting platinum setting, sparkles against the deep-red velvet cushion. I look at Levi, afraid to speak. His eyes are glistening and his voice is still sexy as hell.