It was an eye-opener.
He had no idea his dad had been shouldering the burden of blame, too. For the first time since he could remember, he and his father saw eye to eye on something.
But what was he supposed to do with that? It certainly wasn’t something he wanted to share a fist bump of solidarity over. They both felt guilty. They both blamed themselves. Arguing over who was guiltier or the bigger schmuck or the worst human being alive wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t bring back Caiden or Mom. It certainly wouldn’t give them back the lost years. Nick didn’t know what to say.
“You know, your mom and I didn’t just lose one son that day.” His dad’s voice was softer now. “We lost you, too. You were gone long before you left home. And it’s taken me all these years to realize that. But after you called me and told me I was going to be a grandfather, it was as if you’d given me back my life. That day last week when I heard your voice, it was as if you’d offered me a new start.”
Ronnie paused. Nick wondered if he was waiting for Nick to object or to throw something back at him. But words jumbled and knotted in the back of Nick’s throat. He couldn’t have said anything, even if he’d known what to say.
“I had to take sick days to come here and see you, but when I heard your voice, I knew I would rather get fired—hell, I would rather die—than waste the chance to make things right with my boy. You and your kids and Becca, if she’ll allow me, are the only family I have. Son, I screwed up with your mom. I didn’t man up because I was too busy wallowing in my own sadness to let her lean on me. She was the love of my life, and I just let her walk out the door. I let you walk out the door. I was such a self-centered jackass. If I could change one thing in my life, I would go back and make sure your mother knew how much I loved her. And I’d make sure you know how much I regret losing the past sixteen years with you. I hope you know how sorry I am.”
Ronnie’s voice broke. A tear trailed down his cheek. It cut Nick to the bone because he couldn’t remember a single time in his life when he’d seen his father cry.
Not at Caiden’s funeral.
Not at his wife’s funeral.
Certainly not the day Nick had left home to join the marines.
Or maybe it was the simple act of his father apologizing that was melting the ice that had formed in Nick’s heart all these years.
He slid a napkin across the table toward his father. It must’ve embarrassed him, because the older man said, “Yeah, hey, sorry about this. I’ll be right back.”
As Ronnie stood up and started to walk away, Nick said, “Dad, I’ll make a deal with you. If you forgive me, I’ll forgive you. And then we both have to forgive ourselves.”
Ronnie stared at Nick for what seemed an eternity. Then he offered a solemn nod before he turned and walked toward the restrooms in the back of the restaurant.
Chapter Thirteen
Someone was knocking at the door. In fact, Priscilla, the corgi, was going crazy barking and turning in circles as she tried her best to herd Becca off the sofa and into the foyer. It was ten o’clock at night and whoever it was wasn’t just knocking, he or she was being rather insistent.
If Priscilla didn’t wake the neighbors, her uninvited guest would. Becca rolled her eyes as she thought about the upbraiding she was sure to get from Mrs. Milton and Mrs. Cavett.
But soon enough annoyance gave way to an anxious hopefulness that left her a little queasy as her stomach twisted and plummeted. Maybe Nick had come back to apologize.
As quick as the glimmer of hope appeared, Becca squashed it. She was tired of these ups and downs. Tired of feeling as if she was walking on eggshells around him. Tired of trying so hard to do everything right. Dammit.
“Priscilla, please, be quiet. You’re a good watchdog, but I can take it from here.”
As if she understood perfectly, Priscilla dropped into a submissive stance—front paws down, corgi butt in the air—and uttered a quieter sound that was more embarrassed yodel than fierce watchdog bark.
“Good girl.” Becca bent to give the little dog an appreciative stroke. She was in no hurry to get to the door. If it was Nick, he could stew for a minute. If he didn’t want to be with her and his children, they would be better off on their own.
She glanced at the Christmas tree, which was adorned with only the lights Becca had installed and the two ornaments they’d hung—one each. She couldn’t even get him to commit to decorating the tree—probably too domestic for him. Not enough emergency room blood and guts. Much too boring and long-term, seeing how she liked to leave up the tree until Epiphany.
She wasn’t going to force him to do anything he didn’t want to do. If he couldn’t come to this relationship table willingly, she sure as shoot fire was not going to beg him.
After the Thanksgiving incident with her mother, whom she still hadn’t heard from, and after Nick had gone all stoic and standoffish, Becca had realized she was done earning people’s love.
Done.
Finito.
It was a matter of self-preservation.
She took a moment to gather her thoughts as she slowly made her way to the door. She flipped on the porch light—only so she could get a clear look out the peephole.
One could never be too cautious.
Ha! She should’ve thought of that before she let herself fall for a guy who had no desire to settle down with a wife and children. With a guy who withdrew to inner Siberia every time life got a little messy.
Well, you know what, Nick? Life is messy. It can be messy and ugly and unpredictable. People had accidents, and when they survived you were supposed to love them and count your blessings. You weren’t supposed to retreat and push them away.
But if he wanted to back away, that was fine. She wasn’t going to chase him and try to convince him that he needed her, that she was worth loving. All her life she’d been the good girl, and all it had gotten her was the expectation that her sole purpose in this life was to please other people.
She was prepared to say those words to him. In fact, she hoped he’d come by so she could tell him everything she’d been thinking since he’d so unceremoniously dropped her off at home after the accident.
However, when she looked out the peephole, it wasn’t Nick. It was her mother and Rosanna.
The disappointment that it wasn’t Nick was nearly crushing. Becca hated herself for it. She breathed through the sting and hit the mental save button on the memo to Nick in her brain.
That’s what it was. It wasn’t that she wanted to see him so much as she’d wanted the chance to tell him exactly what was on her mind.
Her mother knocked again, or at least Becca assumed it was her mother, because she’d been the one closer to the door. Rosanna had been standing a safe distance behind her.
“Rebecca, are you in there?” her mother called. “Please, open the door.”
Please?
Had Isabel Flannigan actually ended a sentence with the word please?
That was a good sign. Or at least Becca hoped it was a good sign. She’d been through so much today with the accident and Nick going emotionally AWOL, she simply didn’t have the energy to go to battle with her mother.
Isabel started pounding again, and Becca jerked open the door, bracing herself for her mother to unleash a tirade about how it was cold outside and Becca had left her standing there. Instead, Isabel threw her arms around her daughter and started sobbing.
“Mom.”
“Rebecca, I heard you were in an accident. Why on earth didn’t you call me?”
This was weird for three reasons—probably even more, but right now Becca was too taken aback to count—1) she and her mother hadn’t spoken since Thanksgiving; 2) Isabel never made the first move toward reconciliation; and 3) her mother considered any physical displays of affection vulgar.<
br />
Yet here she was, practically squeezing the stuffing out of her.
“Are you okay, Rebecca? Colleen Carlton’s daughter works at Southwestern Medical Center, and Colleen called me to ask if you were okay. Of course, I had no idea that you’d even been in an accident. I didn’t know what to say. She had to fill me in based on what her daughter had told her.”
Oh. Okay. Here we go.
Still caught in her mother’s embrace, Becca exchanged a look with her sister. To her surprise, it was more concern than the usual disdain.
“But that doesn’t matter. You’re here, and you’re okay.” Isabel pulled back, still holding Becca at arm’s length, and assessed her daughter.
The sight of her mother standing there with tears streaming down her face, holding on to her as if she were afraid she’d float out into the ether if she let go, liquefied the hard stance Becca had been prepared to take with her mother.
“Mom, I’m fine. Please, don’t cry.”
“Good luck getting her to listen,” Rosanna said. “I was telling her that the whole way over.”
Again, Becca braced for Hurricane Isabel to unleash her fury, but this time on Rosanna. Again, she refrained.
“Accidents happen so fast.” Isabel’s voice was barely a whisper. “If I’d lost you today without being able to talk to you and mend this rift, and I’d never gotten the chance to tell you I’m sorry and I love you, I don’t think I could’ve gone on.”
“Mom, I told you. I’m fine. Really, I am. Everything is fine. I’m not mad at you. Please, don’t be upset.”
So much for the new hard-hearted Becca.
She could stand up for herself, but she didn’t have to be mean and heartless. Her mother was so upset, and Becca couldn’t bear to see her that way.
“Come in, please,” Becca said. “Rosanna, will you please shut the door?”
Her sister, who was also curiously subdued tonight, nodded and did as Becca had asked.
She walked arm in arm with their mother into the living room.
The three of them sat for a moment, looking at each other.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you,” Becca said. “I was fine, and I didn’t want to worry you.”
Isabel drew in a deep breath. “No, I suspect you didn’t call me because you were mad at me. And I don’t blame you.”
She paused and swallowed so hard, Becca could hear her mother’s throat working.
“You were right, Rebecca. What I did at Thanksgiving dinner was out of line. I not only embarrassed you and Nick, I embarrassed myself. I hope you will be able to forgive me.”
Nick’s ignosces tattoo flashed in Becca’s mind.
Forgive me.
The memory of how his hard bicep felt under her fingers, as she’d traced the letters, made her shudder. She blinked away the thought.
“Are you okay?” Isabel asked.
“I am. I’m touched by what you said. As far as I’m concerned, we can put it behind us as long as you realize, Mom, we may not always see eye to eye, but as long as we respect each other, we will be fine. And what I mean by respect is you can’t browbeat me into doing things your way.”
Isabel straightened in her chair. Her chin lifted a couple of notches in a guarded stance that had Becca bracing for her to go on the defensive. Becca was so tired of fighting. So tired of trying to please everyone that she almost did a double take when her mother said, “I’ll behave myself. I promise. And I’d like to apologize to Nick. When can the two of you come for dinner?”
Becca took care not to let her face give away what she was really feeling. Because she didn’t know if there would be another family dinner with Nick, but she didn’t have to explain that to anyone. At least not right now.
* * *
When Nick had learned that his father would be visiting, he’d arranged to take off the whole time he was in Celebration.
When he’d told Cullen Dunlevy why he wanted the time off, Cullen had been generous, telling him to take all the time he needed. Actually, he needed only two nights because he’d been late getting to him last night due to the circumstances of the day.
The morning after their dinner, Nick met his father for breakfast. Afterward, they’d met Cece Harrison, the guide who was giving them a tour of Celebration, sharing some of the lesser known history of the area. The woman who tended the front desk at the Celebration Inn had arranged the tour for them. She’d promised that Cece, who was also a staff writer for the Dallas Journal of Business and Development, was not only a friend, but also a knowledgeable local historian. She highly recommended her.
Cece didn’t disappoint. She was perky and pretty and everything a person looking to learn more about the town might hope for.
She even tried to flirt a little with Nick, which caused Ronnie to elbow him good-naturedly. But that only made Nick’s mind drift back to Becca. Ronnie said, “Don’t waste your efforts on him. He’s in love.”
And he was.
Just like that, Nick knew it. But he had no idea what to do about it.
Cece smiled and cooed about how romantic it was to see someone so much in love and how she wished that someday she’d find someone who was just as smitten with her.
Ronnie joked about applying for the job. It was all good-natured and harmless, since he was old enough to be her father.
“Where’s this lucky lady today?” Cece asked.
Both she and Ronnie turned expectant eyes on Nick.
“She’s at work.” He hoped. He really should’ve called her to make sure she was okay. But the tour was moving on.
They learned that Celebration was founded in the mid-nineteenth century and had been settled by the Rice family. They stopped in front of the sprawling Victorian mansion that overlooked the east side of the park.
“This was the home of the Rice family,” Cece said. “They decided to name the town Celebration because, after months and months of searching, the family had finally found a place to call home, and, of course, this was a great cause for celebration.”
As Cece and Ronnie joked about her play on words, Nick was struck by how the whole town seemed to be all about family.
The thought of a man sacrificing everything to give his family a safe place to call home made Nick ache with a vast emptiness. What was wrong with him that he couldn’t man up for Becca?
He had to admit that his panic over her accident really was just an excuse. It was selfish justification: if he didn’t get attached, then he wouldn’t hurt those he loved, and in turn he couldn’t get hurt himself.
Was he really that weak?
Weren’t things with his father so much better than he ever could have hoped for? It was a fresh start for both of them, and it never would’ve happened if he hadn’t taken a chance.
Ronnie was laughing at something that Cece had said, but Nick had missed it, and he didn’t want to ask her to repeat herself. His mind was wandering too much to concentrate on the tour.
“There’s something I need to take care of,” Nick said. “Would you excuse me?”
“Everything okay?” Ronnie asked.
“I hope so,” he said. “I’ll let you know when I see you tonight at dinner.”
* * *
Becca should’ve told Nick no instead of betraying the new stronger, tougher, I’m-tired-of-beating-myself-up-to-win-your-love woman she’d become.
But here she was parking her car in front of Bentleys across the street from the hospital.
Of course she would go to him. Her office was in Dallas and his was right here.
God, would she never learn?
Of course, if she’d told him no the first time instead of spending the night with him, they wouldn’t be meeting to have this conversation.
Of course, he’d been cryptic about why he
wanted to meet her today. Since he hadn’t indicated otherwise, she was going to assume that this meeting was goodbye.
Well, goodbye to any notion of them being a couple or a traditional family. The thought made her heart hurt, but they might as well establish things now. Because the longer they dragged them out, the harder it would be to separate herself.
She’d already let herself fall in love with him, and look where that had gotten her.
As she got out of the car, she squared her shoulders. This would be the last time she would accommodate him. And she intended to tell him that when she saw him.
Her heart felt hollow and fragile. Her eyes burned with the threat of tears that she would not let fall. She couldn’t, because if she started crying now, she might not stop.
She couldn’t let him see her that way. She knew him well enough to believe he wasn’t a cruel man who would take pleasure in watching her suffer.
No, this was more a case of not humiliating herself in front of a man who didn’t want her. It was as plain and simple as that. The man she’d fallen in love with didn’t love her back. He didn’t want her.
That reminder dried up any threat of falling tears. It would be her mantra when she was feeling weak. Her pillar if she felt as if she was starting to fall.
As she pulled open the door to the restaurant, she had another sinking spell. Her mind skipped back to that night. That fateful night when she’d accommodated Rosanna’s demand for space, and she’d come over to Bentleys to get out of the way.
She’d fallen for him the minute she’d laid eyes on him, and all common sense had gone out the window.
Why had she agreed to meet him here?
As she approached the hostess stand, she reminded herself that it was too late now. She was here—ohhh...and there he was sitting at the same booth they’d shared that night.
She took back the benefit of the doubt that she’d afforded him. Because choosing that table just seemed cruel.
When he’d called and asked if she could meet him there, she’d assumed that he was asking for his convenience. So he could get back to the hospital fast.
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