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by Georgia Beers


  Almost an hour later, she had slid to the floor, her legs straight out in front of her underneath the coffee table, her back against the front of the couch. As she poured the last of the wine into her glass, a knock on the door made her jump and she spilled some onto the oak and glass table.

  “Damn it,” she grumbled, trying to get her legs out from under the table to find a paper towel.

  The knock repeated. “Rachel?” It was Jeff. “You okay?”

  Before she could reply, her knee bumped the underside of the table and both the wine and the empty bottle fell over with the loud crash of glass on glass.

  “Shit.”

  “Rachel? I’m coming in.” Jeff’s concern was evident in his tone. The door swung open and he took in the sight before him. Biting his lip only barely kept him from laughing.

  Rachel scowled at him, still sitting on the floor as if being held prisoner by her own coffee table. “Quit your snickering and get me a towel.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He grabbed the roll of paper towels off its holder in the kitchen and began mopping up what little wine had been left in the bottle to spill. Luckily, the wineglass had only broken into three pieces. As he carefully picked them up, he asked, “A little early to be this indulgent, don’t you think?”

  “It’s five o’clock somewhere.” Rachel shrugged as she picked up the bottle and put it to her lips, tipping it completely upside down to get the last drops of wine that still clung to the bottom.

  “Give me that.” Jeff snatched the bottle from her hand, then took it and the pieces of glass to the kitchen. He came back with a wet cloth and wiped the table down. When he returned from replacing the cloth, he brought with him a large glass of water. “Drink this. Maybe we can stave off the killer headache you’re screaming toward.”

  Rachel obediently chugged down half the contents. Jeff took it from her before she could slam it onto the tabletop and shatter more glass.

  After studying her for a long while, he asked, “What’s going on, Raich?”

  “I’m celebrating.”

  “Really.”

  Rachel nodded and then brought a hand to her temple as she realized that probably wasn’t the best movement to make in her condition. “Yes.”

  “What’s the occasion?”

  “I’m an aunt.”

  Jeff smiled. “That’s great. Boy or girl?”

  “Girl. Adrianna Michelle. She’s gorgeous.”

  “Of course she is. Congratulations.” He didn’t comment on the slight slur in her words. He’d never seen Rachel this drunk before, she was sure of it. A little tipsy? Sure. But this? She would have been embarrassed if she wasn’t three sheets to the wind.

  The distinct chirp of Rachel’s cell phone issued from near the door. They both looked in its direction and when Rachel made no move to get up, Jeff went and took a look.

  He rattled off the number that was obviously unfamiliar to him. Rachel closed her eyes and sighed.

  “That’s Courtney.”

  “You want it?” He crossed back to her and held the phone out.

  She recoiled as if he was handing her a dead fish. “No. No, let it go into voice mail.”

  She felt him watching her, could almost hear the pieces fall into place as he put the puzzle together. Schooling her expression so he couldn’t read it was damn near impossible, so she pouted instead. He maneuvered between the couch and the coffee table and settled himself onto the floor next to her, stretching his legs out parallel to hers.

  “What’s going on, Rachel?” Jeff said for the second time. His voice was gentle and loving. “Is it Courtney?”

  “No.” To her horror, Rachel felt tears well in her eyes. “Oh, fuck,” she whispered, squeezing them shut to prevent Jeff from seeing.

  “Honey, it’s okay.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “Talk to me.”

  Rachel leaned her head against him, her world swimming sickeningly. She closed her eyes, wondering exactly how she had come to the conclusion that it had been a good idea to polish off an entire bottle of wine alone on a Saturday afternoon. In an hour.

  She didn’t want to say a thing. She didn’t want to put voice to her thoughts, to the phrases that had been bouncing around in her head for days and days like the silver ball in a pinball machine, looking for the best path of escape. But the wine had loosened her security systems, flattened her defenses, and her precious control was nowhere to be found.

  “I think I’m falling for her, Jeff.” A small, whining groan escaped her lips immediately after the words were out. “I’m falling hard. I want…I want…” Scrunching up her face, she forced the words from her own lips. “I want her to be mine. Damn it. Mine.” She punctuated the last word with a loud smack to her own chest.

  Jeff hugged her to him tightly. “I think that’s great.”

  “Great? You think that’s great? It’s not great. It’s awful. Have you listened to nothing I’ve told you about her? The girl’s a mess.”

  “She’s a mess?” Jeff’s eyebrows reached up to his hairline in surprised amusement.

  Rachel folded her arms and blew out a frustrated breath. “Shut up.” He grinned at her, obviously enjoying himself. “How the hell am I ever supposed to live in the shadow of Theresa? I don’t know if I can. And she never talks about her. I don’t even know what I’m up against because Courtney never tells me.”

  “And you’ve asked?”

  “Once or twice. Or…once.”

  “I see.”

  Rachel tried to glare at him. “You see nothing. This is hard. Plus.”

  Jeff waited, then finally prodded, “Plus what?”

  “Plus, she knows my dad. They’re friends.” She sneered the last word.

  “Really? How did that come about?”

  “They’re in the same therapy group.”

  “Therapy for what?”

  Rachel swallowed and turned away from him. “People who’ve lost their spouses.”

  Jeff nodded.

  “If I pursue this,” she continued, “if I pursue her, I could forever be in the shadow of a dead woman. Who wants that?”

  “I see your dilemma,” he said.

  “Dilemma doesn’t begin to describe it.”

  “Then maybe you should just stop seeing her.”

  Rachel blinked at him. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean stop seeing her. Cut her loose.” He gestured to the cell phone sitting silently on the table in front of them. “She’ll stop calling. Eventually. You’ll be free of her. You can go back to your previous life of…predictability and planning. You won’t have to worry about her digging her hooks in any further. You won’t have to deal with these pesky feelings and emotions. You won’t have to worry about not being able to measure up to her first love.”

  “I could do that. I could just cut the ties. It’s barely been a couple months, really. I mean, it’s not like she has much of an effect on me anyway.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.”

  The tone of Jeff’s voice told Rachel very clearly that she was full of shit and he knew it. And truthfully, so did she. Even in her drunken stupor, it was painfully clear to her that she was in love with Courtney McAllister. It had taken the birth of a baby, of her own flesh and blood, to open her up enough emotionally to actually see this fact, and no amount of expensive wine was going to change it. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes until she saw colorful stars dancing on the insides of her eyelids. She let out a mighty sigh, like that of Atlas when he was told he was to carry the entire world on his shoulders, and had only one appropriate response.

  “Fuck.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Courtney glanced at her watch as the elevator door slid open with a ding. As luck would have it, Jeff had been on his way out as she was ready to enter the building, so he’d held the door for her, smiling and looking at her in an odd way that she couldn’t describe. Thank God he’d let her in, though, because she’d had no idea what she would say on the intercom if she’
d actually had the nerve to press the button and Rachel answered. It was after eight o’clock on Saturday night and she felt a little trepidation over making an unannounced visit, especially given the weird meeting on the street earlier in the day. Part of her was more irritated than anything else over the fact that Rachel just ran away like she did, but a smaller, softer part was more worried. Rachel’s face had been so…strained when she bolted, so emotional, so…uncertain. That was an adjective she’d never use to describe Rachel, and that’s what worried her.

  Ted had explained things a little bit as best he could, given that he now knew full well Courtney was dating his daughter. She admired his attempts at restraint. He never said one negative thing about Rachel, though Courtney suspected she’d hurt him badly more than once. He seemed to understand, though, that she really wanted to hear things from Rachel and he respected that. She’d gone home with a head full of confusing thoughts and no idea what to do next. She’d spent the better part of an hour just working up the nerve to get out of her car in the parking lot across the street.

  Now at Rachel’s door, Courtney stopped and stood, unable to will her arm up to knock. They had other things to talk about besides Rachel’s tenuous relationship with her father. Let’s get it all out on the table. I need to say a few things and I need to know a few things. She inhaled a giant breath and let it out slowly. She ran a hand through her hair, then down over her hip, and wondered if she was overstepping her bounds by even being here. Was she becoming a stalker? One of those obsessed suitors who couldn’t accept that she was not wanted by her paramour? No, that couldn’t be true. Rachel was too…magnetic. There was too strong a connection, an inexplicable pull, for her to brush it aside. She knew that Rachel might not feel the same way, that she might actually toss Courtney right out on her ass in just a few minutes. But Courtney also knew that if she didn’t make one more attempt to see if the connection ran both ways, she’d regret it for the rest of her life. Something told her Rachel wanted to explore the possibility of them as a couple, too, but she just needed more coaxing.

  Oh, my God, did I really just think that? “If I coax her enough, she’ll see things my way?” Courtney rolled her eyes at herself. Maybe this is just ridiculous and I’m being totally stupid. She sighed and stared at the leather of her shoes for several long moments. Deciding to give up on such a one-sided quest, she turned away from the door. As she did so, it opened, startling her enough to make her jump.

  “Holy Christ,” Courtney blurted as she turned back around, a hand pressed to her forehead. “Um, hi.”

  “Hi there.” Rachel stood with her head against the door, a gentle smile on her face. She wore a pair of soft-looking plaid flannel pants and a doctor’s scrub shirt and was rumpled enough to make Courtney wonder if she’d been asleep.

  ???I…I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  “No. I was heading into the kitchen for something to eat and I thought I heard the elevator bell, so I peeked through the peephole.” Rachel arched one eyebrow. “You stood here for a long time. Were you ever going to knock?”

  Courtney felt her face flush hotly. The peephole! How had she not thought about the damn peephole? It never occurred to her that Rachel might know she was there before she actually announced her presence. She looked down at her shoes again and scratched at her temple, embarrassment blanketing her. “I, um, hadn’t decided.”

  “Do you want to come in?”

  Courtney’s gaze met and held Rachel’s. “Yeah,” she said so quietly, it was almost a whisper. “Yeah, I do.”

  *

  Rachel stepped aside, opening the door wide enough for Courtney to enter and closing her eyes as she inhaled the scent of Courtney’s musky perfume. She wouldn’t go so far as to say that Courtney seemed agitated, but something was definitely on her mind. She fidgeted a bit with the car keys in her hand and her eyes darted around the room. She was dressed simply in a worn pair of jeans, a deep green sweatshirt, and a tan jacket. Her hair was loose and wavy and she looked adorable.

  The four-hour nap—or more accurately, the four-hour pass-out—had been just what the doctor ordered for Rachel. She barely remembered Jeff helping put her to bed, feeding her a handful of Motrin, but she knew she needed to call him and say thanks. His words, his guidance, and his friendship meant more today than ever. Now she had the remnants of a headache, but the wine haze was gone, and she felt…different somehow. Not emotionally overloaded like earlier, but…different. Relaxed? Open? She couldn’t put her finger on it. All she knew was that she felt much, much better and seeing Courtney’s face warmed her insides in ways she couldn’t describe.

  Besides that, she was ravenous.

  “Want a grilled cheese sandwich with me?”

  Courtney looked relieved and she sighed. “Love one.”

  Rachel smiled and gestured to the couch. “Take off your jacket and have a seat.”

  “I’d rather help.” She tossed her keys onto the little table near the door and then draped the jacket over the couch before following Rachel into the galley kitchen. “Hey, how did things go this morning? I was thinking about you.”

  Rachel felt her face light up at the memories of that morning in the hospital. “I’m sure you already know this, but I have a niece and she’s beautiful. Ten fingers, ten toes, and a mop of dark hair that none of us have any idea where it came from.”

  “Wow. I can’t even imagine what it must have been like to be there.”

  “It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever witnessed, Courtney. Truly amazing. I’m blessed to have been included.” She pulled a Calphalon frying pan out of a cupboard and set it on the stove, then lit the burner. “I thought I’d have trouble…maybe get a little queasy, but I didn’t.”

  “Not at all?” Getting the cheese from the fridge, Courtney took it to the counter and hauled herself up so she sat on the Corian next to the stove, her feet swinging gently.

  “Not even a little bit. It was too…I don’t know. Important?”

  “That makes sense.”

  “Does it?” Rachel chuckled as she buttered bread. “It sounds lame and weird to me.”

  “No! It’s not lame, honey. It’s not lame or weird. It’s sweet. And touching. I’m so glad you got to see it. I’m jealous.”

  “I’ll never forget it as long as I live.” She put the bread in the pan and took the cheese slices Courtney handed her. “I just…” Her voice trailed off and she was discomfited by the tears that welled up.

  “What’s her name again?”

  “Adrianna Michelle. Six pounds, ten ounces.”

  “That’s so pretty. And your sister’s doing okay?”

  Rachel flipped each sandwich. “Emily’s doing great. She’s on cloud nine.” She smiled at the memory of her baby sister, ridiculously happy and grinning even after being doped up on pain meds.

  “Of course she is.” Courtney slid off the counter and got plates from the cupboard Rachel pointed out. Their tag-team work in the kitchen felt as natural and normal as could be and Rachel tried hard not to dwell on that fact. After a few moments of silence, Courtney seemed to make a decision and dive forward. “Rachel…I swear I had no idea Ted was your dad. I didn’t know his last name. In group, he was just Ted.”

  “Well, now you know.”

  “What happened between you two? How come you’re so angry at him?”

  Remaining focused on the sandwiches, Rachel said, “Didn’t he tell you the story?”

  Courtney shook her head. “I didn’t ask him. I wanted to ask you. And he didn’t think it was his place. Will you tell me? Please?”

  The innocent tone of Courtney’s question made Rachel look at her to see if the expression on her face matched the sweetness of her voice. It did. She flipped the sandwiches onto plates and Courtney sliced them in half on the diagonal, the same way Rachel cut her own, and it made her smile. She took the plate handed to her, along with a tall glass of milk, and they went into the living room to flop down side by side on the couch.


  “I’ve got daddy issues, to say the least,” Rachel said after a couple of minutes.

  “Not an uncommon thing.” Courtney shrugged as she chewed.

  “I’ve never forgiven him for leaving my mom. I’ve barely talked to him since.”

  Courtney studied her. “Wow.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But…he’s around. I mean, he’s here in town. He didn’t move away or anything.”

  “He’s always been around. He spends a lot of time with Emily and her family. He lives on the same side of town.”

  “But you don’t see him because…you don’t want to? Or he doesn’t want to?”

  Courtney’s questions were so gentle, so innocuously phrased, that Rachel didn’t feel for a second that she was prying. More than that, she wanted to answer. She wanted to talk about it. She wanted Courtney to understand. Good God, who am I and what happened to the real Rachel Hart?

  “It’s me. It’s all my doing. He’s tried many times to make contact, to get together. Hell, Emily’s even tried to trick us into being in the same place at the same time, like some sort of incestuous blind date scenario.” She chuckled. “He wants it, but I always catch on and I’ve always managed to avoid being alone with him at all costs. I’m civil. I’d never cause a public scene. I’ve just basically avoided being with him one-on-one for…oh, I don’t know. Twenty-five years?”

  “Why?” Her sandwich and milk gone, Courtney shifted sideways on the couch and propped her elbow on the back of it, leaning her head onto her hand. “Why don’t you want to talk to him one-on-one?”

  The sudden lump in Rachel’s throat felt stuck and it took her a couple of tries to swallow it down. All right, maybe emotional overload isn’t completely gone after all. She didn’t like that idea, but much to her own surprise, she kept on talking. Something about the kindness on Courtney’s face, the look of gentle concern, and the joy of having her so close. Even more surprisingly, she told Courtney the truth. “I’m afraid,” she said quietly, studying her own hands.

 

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