by Hope Navarre
Cassie loved her dad. She loved Peter. Oh, yes. She could say that with all certainty. But, damn them both, she couldn’t give them her power. She was strong enough to care for herself. There was nothing wrong with a woman wanting to be in charge of her own destiny. Reconciling unintentional abandonment was much worse. She had no doubt that Peter loved her. He simply pushed her too hard, too fast. He was right that she wasn’t ready to trust one man. She needed the gift of time. She had every right to slow things down. He simply shouldn’t have shown her that goddamn ring.
The ring was perfect. Peter was perfect. The timing stunk. She stared at herself in the mirror. A coward didn’t look back. A pale reflection of a woman gaunt with illness did—a woman battling more than her own wounded feelings, the pain of her loved ones or the distress she’d caused Peter.
She supported herself against the sink, her legs growing weak. What if she died? Knowing how Peter felt for her, breaking up with him saved him the devastation she still carried from losing Kyle. Hers was not the act of a coward, but an act of love. Breaking up with Peter wasn’t about her. It was saving them both. Damn it all. She loved Peter enough to set him free.
She dried her hands. No. She’d done everything right. Peter would simply have to deal. Her stomach lurched, a burning went up her throat. She slapped the lid up for the toilet and heaved. Damnation. When would the purging end?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
BOBBY CLIMBED INTO the engine compartment of the Lady Beth, needing to fix something. He looked around the small, absolutely pristine space, already knowing every line, every valve, every bolt and screw was in place. The engine reflected his pride in his trawler, but it was nothing compared to his pride and love for his wife.
Yet deep inside, he knew he’d neglected Beth over the years in ways he would never neglect the boat. He knew the difference now. Knew it back then, but couldn’t bring himself to face the truth. He’d been a wimp. His wife had courted death and needed him. He’d let her down in a big way. From the very start, he’d run out on her. Scared to death. Scared that he’d have to stand by and watch his wife die.
Sure, he had needed to keep an income flowing, especially with the medical expenses, but he was always an honest man and could never outrun the truth. There was no way he could have stood around and watch cancer—or chemotherapy—kill his wife. No one had promised she’d survive. The prognosis had been poor. Only a miracle could save her. He’d never been a praying man but he’d spend hours at sea begging the powers that be to turn their eyes on his ailing wife just that once.
They had. Beth survived. And by running away while his wife did battle without him, he had destroyed the precious light he’d seen in her eyes every time he walked through the door before she got sick. Like a finger snap, that light had turned off, leaving him scrambling to find the switch to turn it back on.
He’d worked his tail off since then to make things right. Turned on the affection. Improved the house. Made sure the money kept pouring in through the years to keep Beth and Cassie comfortable. Yet, he’d never spoken to Beth about his mistake. He carried on pretending that he’d done the right thing by acting like nothing was wrong. After all, if he’d hung around he’d have been a blubbering idiot and Beth wouldn’t have had the strength to heal. She would have seen the fear in his eyes and believed she was going to die. But Beth had defied the odds and lived. He’d never been more proud of her. He’d never felt more ashamed of himself. He was reminded of it every time he held her in his arms. She’d never spoken a word of her disappointment, but he felt it in her kisses. In her casual replies. In the absence of her reaching for his hand when no one was looking.
Watching the intent Peter showed in wanting to be up front and present for Cassie, especially only knowing her a short time, had hammered home how badly he’d handled Beth’s illness. Releasing a long breath, Bobby climbed out of the engine compartment, replaced the hatch and stepped off the Lady Beth. There was something he had to do that had been way too long in coming.
* * *
BETH WAS PULLING groceries from the trunk of her car when he drove up. Seeing her now was like seeing her for the first time. She looked as beautiful as she had the first time he had seen her in seventh grade. Granted, he’d known her all his life, but up until seventh grade she was just long-legged, blond-haired Beth, who could outrun most of the boys. Then something happened in seventh grade, and her laughing blue eyes, beautiful smile and those cut-off denims did something that made him feel all weird inside. By the time they hit high school, they were spending every minute together. The day she married him was the best day of his life—until that early morning one year later when Cassie was born. Back then, he couldn’t imagine living a day without Beth in his life. The feeling never felt as intense as it did right now.
“Hey, honey. Let me help you with those.” He grabbed the rest of the bags and shut the trunk.
She looked surprised to see him. “I thought you were running errands.”
He opened the kitchen door for her. “Yeah, and I’m here to finish the most important one.”
Concern creased her brow. “Oh, yes?”
He held the kitchen door open for her.
She smiled her thanks. “What’s going on?”
One by one, he began emptying the bags, then realized he was buying time. Crushing one of the bags, he turned to face her. “Beth, there’s something I have to ask you that is way too long in coming.”
She stopped what she was doing. “What is it, Bobby?”
He reached for her hands and kissed the backs of each. Not thinking he could trust himself, he let the words out in a rush. “Can you ever forgive me for hurting you so badly when you were sick? I know how much you needed me and how much of a total jackass I was for running off on you. I was too damned scared. Too damned worried that you were going to die to even stop and consider how hard that fight had been for you.”
Beth had stepped away from him while he spoke. She’d made it to the table and sat down.
He frowned. “Are you okay?”
She shook her head. “This is quite a bomb you’re dropping on me.”
“But you’ve felt this way. I’ve known it all along.”
“Why now? Cassie?”
“Yeah. I see it now. You needed me to hold you. To promise you everything was going to be okay, and I didn’t. I caved. I let my fear ruin the trust you held for me. I’ve pretended all these years that I’d done the right thing, but I can’t pretend any longer.”
He pressed on. “Seeing Cassie sick, I’m remembering everything that happened between us, and it rips me up inside. Can you ever forgive me for leaving you at the worst possible moment of your life?”
Tears brimmed in her eyes. “If you only knew how long I have waited to hear you say those words, Bobby. Thank you.”
He blinked. Shook his head. “You mean that’s it? You’re not going to rant? Tell me how much of an idiot I am? What a fool I was?”
She laughed through her tears. “Well, if you already know that, why do I have to tell you?”
“I’ve wasted so much time being afraid to lose you.”
She wiped at her tears. “If we can hold on to the fact that we’re both still alive and well, we can start to rebuild.”
He sat down next to her. “Are you willing to, Beth?”
“I don’t think we have a choice. Cassie needs us to find our way back to each other.” Beth stood, reached for his hand and led him toward their bedroom. “So, why don’t you come with me and we can start practicing.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A DO-IT-YOURSELF MOVING truck with California plates was tucked at the top of Peter’s driveway. He parked behind the vehicle.
“What the heck?”
He climbed out. Looked in the windows. Empty. No one was by the front door. He walked a
round back.
“Petie!”
Gil and Rudy were perched on his back porch, drinking martinis from long-stemmed glasses etched with palm trees. Dressed in T-shirts, shorts and matching designer sandals, they lounged on the steps as if they’d visited the backyard a hundred times. A picnic basket and a small cooler sat on the porch between them. Strawberries still in their balsa-wood farm containers and a plastic plate with cheese and crackers sat on the closed lid of the picnic basket.
“We’ve been waiting for you!”
“I can’t believe it! What are you guys doing here?”
Both men stood. Gil looked very much like Peter, except his shorter, dark blond hair hadn’t been exposed to sun and salt like Peter’s had. Although the same height, Gil’s athletic physique was honed in a gym, while Peter’s muscles had been sculpted from surfing. Rudy was a runner. Taller and leaner than both men, he had penetrating blue eyes beneath his shock of dark hair, which was trimmed close to his head. Both men wore a diamond earring in one of their ears.
Laughing out loud, Peter bear-hugged each of them. Gil slapped him on the back. “You look great, Nurse Chapman.”
Rudy scrutinized his brother-in-law. “Oh, I don’t know, Gilbert. I think we arrived just in time. Look at the circles under his eyes. Definitely not enough rest.”
Peter was speechless. Rudy and Gil were like the cavalry coming to his rescue. “When did you... Why?”
Rudy patted his arm. “Easy, boy. Let’s pour you a martini.”
He waved him away. “Not for me. Tell me. What happened? Did you give up on San Fran?”
“Poor choice. Almost a year and we just couldn’t make the city feel like home.”
Rudy said, “So we figured, go east, young men.”
“We missed you,” Gil added.
“I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you.”
“Driving through Manhattan was a nightmare, but the trip out here was worth the trial. Montauk, the farms and the Hamptons are beautiful.” He slapped at a mosquito biting his arm. “Only the mosquitoes in your backyard, man! Not so good.”
“I’ll buy a bug zapper. Haven’t had much time to sit out here.”
Rudy pointed to the open yard. “We’ll put a screened gazebo right there.”
Peter laughed. “You’re going to fit right in here. Want to come inside and see the place?”
“Sure! Do you mind if we stay for a while?”
He gave his brother a suspicious look. “How long?”
“Really?”
He wrapped an arm around Gil’s shoulder. He never thought he’d be so happy to see his brother. “I’m kidding. Of course you can stay. Actually, if you’ve moved to Montauk for good, the summer rental upstairs will be gone in about two weeks. Let’s talk to Brian about snagging the apartment for you.”
“Brian sounds like our savior,” Rudy said.
“He’s straight,” Peter teased. Great payback for calling him Petie.
Rudy looked insulted. “And I’m a married man.”
Peter laughed again, realizing it had been a long time since he had felt this light inside. “Well, if you didn’t bring a bed, I know the perfect place with the perfect salesman to sell you one.”
Gil rolled his eyes. “Don’t egg him on, Peter. Please! Besides, we have a bed. It’s a car we’ll need to buy.”
He scooped up the cheese and strawberries. “Grab your basket and cooler. Let’s go inside before the mosquitoes carry us away.”
Dinner found them settled in the dining room. Gil sat back in his chair and stared at Peter. Shaking his head, he said, “Amazing.”
Sunset splashed crimson light above the trees through the windows behind Gil. “What is?”
“You’ve stopped running.”
Peter frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Rudy came in carrying a bowl of pasta, filling the air with the savory aroma of veggies, garlic and shrimp. “Yeah, Gil. What do you mean? You and Peter lived in that house for most of your lives.”
“Yeah, but Pete was always on the run. Look at him now. He’s like putty in the chair. He’s not all stressed out.”
“Oh, come on. I wasn’t.”
Gil scoffed. “You don’t think so? Peter, I was there. You pulled some pretty tricky maneuvers to keep us from becoming another social services statistic.”
Rudy served up the pasta. “Yeah, how about that time you changed your voice pretending to be your father on the phone with bill collectors.”
Gil added, “Or the time you rode your bike twenty miles to Dad’s house to get the rent check he never delivered and then turned around and rode to the bank to deposit it.
“Then, you learned how to fix the toilet. Unclog sinks. Make one can of tuna last for six sandwiches. Kept Mom from hitting on the mailman. Punched out Arnie Griffin for calling me a fag.” Gil reached over and gave Peter a high five. “It was as if you were always pumped up to keep us going. Now look at you. Calm as a pond.”
“Well, I’m dying inside.”
Gil put down his fork. “Cassie? I’ve been waiting to ask. You sounded pretty upbeat about her treatments in your emails.”
Suddenly, the food wasn’t so appealing. He didn’t want to insult Rudy, so he twirled a mouthful onto his fork. “I asked her to marry me in the beginning of the week. Not only did she say no. She broke up with me.”
Rudy slapped the table. “Why would she do something so foolish?”
“It’s complicated.”
“How sick is she?”
Peter looked at his brother. “The tumors have shrunk. The chemotherapy is pretty rough on her. The treatment is almost worse than the disease.”
“I’ve heard. Tricky balancing the bad against the bad to get positive results.”
Rudy looked confused. “So why would she break up with you now? You’ve been with her through this whole ordeal.”
Peter forced himself to chew a forkful of pasta before answering. He was so preoccupied with Cassie, the amazing flavor was wasted on him. He swallowed, wiped his mouth.
“A lot of issues have come to play. She’s been overanalyzing everything, especially her life. I think she’s scared, mostly.”
“What are you going to do?”
His laugh was hollow. “Three days ago, I was heading to California to see you two, but Doc stopped me.”
“That would have been rich. We were already halfway here,” Rudy said.
“I want you guys to meet Cassie.”
“Even now?”
He looked at Gil. “Oh, yeah. I’m not giving up on her. She will have to drive me out at gunpoint to get rid of me.”
“And then you still won’t give up.” Gil chuckled. “We’d be honored to meet her. Anytime. There’s just one thing I want you to keep in mind, little brother.”
“What’s that, Gil?”
“You’re wired to take care of people. You started with Mom and cemented the behavior by going to nursing school. I know how hard the task was for you to have Mom institutionalized. You did the right thing, bro.”
“The more distance I’ve had the better I see that fact,” Peter said.
Gil pushed his finished plate away. “I just want to make sure the proper motive is driving you to stand by your girl.”
Uh-oh. He recognized the concern lighting his brother’s eyes. Gil was not one to hold back his thoughts if he believed an issue needed to be addressed. “What are you worried about?”
“Your overblown sense of responsibility.”
Peter’s skin prickled. Bull’s-eye. “Overblown?”
“I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to save the day anymore. Everyone is in charge of their own destiny. You only need be concerned about your life.”
Peter sat back
in his chair. His brother’s words hit like a wrecking ball. Before leaving California, Peter had spent hours on his surfboard trying to ride off the guilt of handing the responsibility for his mother’s care to strangers. Putting her under the supervision of people who didn’t love or understand her the way he did wrenched his gut—right up to signing the admission forms and walking away from her. Mom’s accusations and tears still resonated in his ears. Had he turned that need for absolution on Cassie? Was he going to save her to make up for abandoning his mother?
“Is this some sort of test?”
Gil shook his head. “No. I simply want you to think, bro. Is it love or wanting to save another failing spirit that’s driving you to be with Cassie?”
Peter’s gaze drifted out the window. A deer had wandered into the grass from the woods. He watched it graze, thinking about the deer that had caused him to crash his truck and end up in Cassie’s arms. There was so much more to Cassie than her drop-dead good looks. He loved working the E.R. with her, listening to her laugh, how he felt the urge to howl when she looked at him with her bedroom eyes.
He met his brother’s stare. “No, Gil. I fell in love with Cassie the minute I met her. I’m standing by her side because I couldn’t leave if I tried.”
For the first time since this entire mess began, the pressure of tears filled his eyes. A lump constricted his throat. He swallowed hard, unable to imagine the possibility of losing Cassie. Just thinking about her brought his senses alive. The feel of her body against his. Her perfume. Her sweet voice. The soft pads of her fingers on his skin. Her convictions. Her sighs when they made love.
He took a moment to press his palms to his eyes to get a grip on his emotions. Looking up at the two men he trusted most, he said, “I have never felt love the way I feel for Cassie. She has turned my world upside down, and I’ve never been happier. If she dies? I will never get over losing her.” He shook his head. “No. This is no act of contrition. I’m in way too deep.”