by Susan Meier
No. She didn’t need to remember things or look at him. There was drooling to consider.
She flopped onto her couch.
He dropped a brown bag of something that smelled yummy on her coffee table. “I brought doughnuts.”
Her stomach rumbled in response, but she ignored it. “I’m sure Trisha will love them.” She straightened on the sofa, rose and started past him. “I’ll go get her.”
He stopped her by catching her hand. “Not yet. I was hoping for a few minutes alone with you.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“I have some things I want to say.”
She yanked her hand from his grip and headed for the stairs that led to Trisha’s room on the second floor. “I don’t think we have anything left to say.”
“Well, I thought I’d start off by saying I love you.”
That stopped her.
“I still can’t promise you forever. At least not in the conventional sense. But as Annette pointed out, some people will be hit by a bus or in a traffic accident this year. Some of them might have promised forever and they’ll be reneging on the deal through no fault of their own.”
She walked back over to him and just barely kept herself from checking to see if he had a fever. “Was there enough oxygen in your plane?”
“There was plenty. Listen to me.” He caught her hand and pulled her down onto the sofa with him. For the first time, she noticed that along with the bag of yummy-smelling doughnuts, he’d brought a briefcase. He flipped the locks and opened it.
She closed one eye and then the other, and popped them both open, trying to awaken herself because the whole situation felt surreal. Part of her wanted to jump into his arms. The other part wasn’t entirely sure he was here.
This could be a dream. After all, she’d dreamed about him more than once since she’d been home. And lots of weird things were happening. He was talking nonsense. Briefcases appeared out of nowhere. She could very well be dreaming.
Reaching inside, he pulled out something shiny and handed it to her.
A vase.
She squeezed her eyes shut then opened them again.
Yep. Still a vase. A heavy vase. She took a closer look. Her breath caught. Her gaze jerked to his. “My mom and dad’s vase.”
“A duplicate. I had Annette find it online.”
“You replaced it.” Even she heard the sense of wonder in her voice. Her eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t think you’d even realize you’d broken it.”
He swallowed. “It’s not every day a man wakes up to find his wife is gone and her closet is empty.”
She stared at the vase.
“I bought it years ago.” He caught her gaze. “The day after you left.” With a sigh he put his head back and looked at the ceiling. “When I came downstairs that morning, I saw the broken window and the glasses and all the crystal in front of the fireplace. I barely remembered the tirade, but when I saw the empty space on the shelf I knew exactly what I’d done and exactly why you’d left. I wanted to be ready when you came home.”
Her heart about melted with despair. She could picture him waiting for her, maybe even watching out the same window she’d watched through for him. “But I never came home.”
“Nope. You disappeared.”
She faced him, vase in hand. “You could have found me.”
“My pride wanted you to come home. That’s part of why I went into AA.” He pointed at the vase. “I understood that I’d created the straw that broke the camel’s back. So I replaced it. But eventually I realized that replacing the vase didn’t solve the problem. So I got myself to AA. When you came home, I wanted to be ready for you.”
“You quit drinking for me?”
He sighed. “I might have quit for you, but I stayed sober for myself.”
He shifted on the sofa, as if debating telling her the rest of the story. She didn’t poke or prod, simply sat there. Her heart was in her throat and her pulse had slowed to such a crawl she wondered if she’d faint. He was here. He loved her. He’d brought her a vase. But she refused to jump to any conclusions. He had to say the right words. She would not be an enabler. She couldn’t.
Eventually he said, “About three years in, I realized you probably weren’t coming back. I handled that information for about a week but that Friday night, I couldn’t do it anymore. If you weren’t coming back, I wanted a drink. I sat and stared at a bottle of Scotch for hours. I wanted a drink so bad my tongue could already taste it. You weren’t coming home, so I thought my efforts were wasted. But in the end, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t even open the bottle let alone pour a shot. Let alone actually drink it. That shook me up until I realized why.”
Staring at him, she whispered, “Why?”
He shrugged. “My life wasn’t a living hell of waking up mornings with a hangover, not remembering what I’d said, who I’d hurt. Even with my dad still nagging me my life was easier. Manageable. I didn’t want to drink anymore because I didn’t want life to be any harder than it already was. I tossed the Scotch back to the shelf and the next morning I took control of the company away from my dad. I’d already started doing most of his work, but I decided if I was going to do this I was going to do it right.”
With tears clinging precariously to her eyelashes she smiled. “You did it right.”
“Thanks.” He scooted a little closer to her on the sofa. “You know, I didn’t say any of that to make you feel bad.” He brushed a tear from the rim of her eyelid. “Stopping drinking wasn’t as bad as you think.”
“I’m not crying for you.”
He arched a brow.
“I’m crying for this.”
He glanced down at the vase. “I thought that would make you happy.”
“It does. It reminds me that deep in there,” she said, trailing her finger lightly over his chest, “is a heart of pure gold.”
He inhaled slowly as he caught her gaze. “Don’t make a martyr of me.”
“You’re not a martyr. But you are a good man.”
He sniffed a laugh. “I try.”
She slid a little closer. “Yes. You do.”
“So I can promise you a whole lifetime of trying. A lifetime of me staying sober one day at a time.”
“Are you asking me back?”
“I’m asking you to remarry me.”
A giggle burst out of her as joy overwhelmed her, making her sound like her nineteen-year-old self, the way she’d giggled the day she’d met him. “Really?”
“I don’t want a second chance. I want to start over.”
If those weren’t the right words, she didn’t know what words were. She caught his hands. “Me too.”
“Really?”
She laughed. Her heart was playing jump rope in her chest. Every fiber in her being wanted to fall into his arms. Yet they were both holding back. “Why are we so bad at this? I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“And I want to marry you.”
“Me, too.”
“So?”
“So?”
“So kiss me, you idiot!”
That was all the invitation he needed. He scooped her into his arms and planted his lips on hers. They started off soft and emotional, but when her mouth opened and their tongues began to dance, heat resonated through her. When she’d gone to his house in her little blue sundress, she’d been so afraid. Today there wasn’t a fiber of fear in her. She loved him. She needed him. She’d risk a poor sexual performance for the chance to make love to him again.
Anticipating that Trisha had at least thirty more minutes before she’d awaken, she flattened her hands on his chest, let them roam a bit before heading for the buttons of his shirt.
He pulled away. “Really?”
She nodded. “I think we have twenty minutes before Trisha gets up.”
Longing filled him as he lowered her to the sofa. Her hardened nipples poked through the soft material of her pajama top. He’d noticed right off the bat that she wa
s braless. He’d just never imagined it would come in handy so quickly.
And suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder. Tap. Tap. Tap. Light fingers. Innocent fingers.
He pulled away, glanced behind him.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Hi, pumpkin.” He quickly sat up, bringing Kate with him. Without letting go of Kate, he slid his other arm around Trisha and brought her into their circle of embrace.
Intense gratitude replaced the heat that had been surging through his blood. He had them back. Forever now, if he had any say in it, and he did. He always had. He just hadn’t known how to take the steps.
“I smell doughnuts.”
“What a coincidence. I brought doughnuts.”
“Can I have milk?”
“Yes. But first your mom and I want to tell you something.” He drew in a breath. “We’re getting married.”
She blinked. “Can I have two doughnuts?”
He laughed. Children certainly did have a way of keeping a man humble. But on the bright side, her innocent reaction sort of proved she hadn’t really known what her parents were doing when she’d tapped him on the shoulder.
Kate rose suddenly. Grabbing the bag of doughnuts, she headed for the kitchen. “Let’s make some coffee.”
Max followed her. As townhouses went, hers was large, with a big cherrywood kitchen that opened to the dining room. Trisha sat on one of the stools by the countertop. He sat beside her.
“So much to plan,” Kate said, filling her pot with water and pouring it into the coffeemaker.
Watching her, Max smiled. She was braless. Her pants were too big. Her hair looked as though it hadn’t seen a comb in days. “Do we want a big wedding or a small wedding? If we go big we’re going to have to wait a year. Go small and we could get married next Tuesday.”
Trisha opened the doughnut bag and began digging for her breakfast.
Max laughed. “I don’t think Trisha cares. She just wants a doughnut.”
Kate spun around with a gasp. “Trisha! At least get a napkin.”
And Max settled back on his chair. This was what he wanted, what he’d missed for the past eight years. He loved the wonder of ordinariness. It was something he would never take for granted. They weren’t ever going to live in his mother’s house on the hill. They would stay in the four-bedroom ranch that they’d built for each other. With the pool and Mrs. Gentry.
Kate scrambled over with a napkin for Trisha. She wiped her mouth. “I swear, sometimes I’d think you were three.”
Max laughed and pulled her onto his lap. “This is going to be fun.”
“We’re going to drive you crazy,” she warned.
He placed a smacking kiss on her lips. “And I’m going to love every second of it.”
They decided not to call their parents, but to tell them in person when they returned to Pine Ward. Max was ready to face Kate’s dad head-on. No fear. And Kate was ready to come home. To redecorate the house so it could accommodate kids. Because she didn’t think it wise for one child to inherit an empire. Max wholeheartedly agreed with that.
After breakfast they stayed in her townhouse talking about the future as Trisha played with her Rachel doll on the floor in front of the couch. After lunch, they played Scrabble with Trisha. Ordered Chinese for supper.
And when Trisha nodded off, they walked hand in hand to Kate’s bedroom, closed the door and started over.
EPILOGUE
TWO YEARS LATER, Kate Hunter Montgomery watched her daughter and husband splashing in the pool. Exhausted, hot, she rubbed her mound of stomach, praying she’d go into labor. Her son had been due to arrive two days before, but in true Montgomery fashion, he’d decided to be late—probably so he could make an entrance that everyone would remember.
She groaned in disgust, but stopped midgroan. Had that been a pain?
It had come and gone so quickly she couldn’t tell, but just the thought that she might be in labor lifted her spirits.
“How’s it going over there, Big Mama?” Max called, leaning against the edge of the pool as nine-year-old Trisha climbed out and scurried to the diving board.
“Haven’t we been over this Big Mama fixation you have?”
“Yeah, but the name just sort of fits.”
The French doors behind Kate opened.
“Did I hear him call you Big Mama again?” Gi Gi asked, sidling up beside Kate’s chair and slipping off her flip-flops.
“Yes, you did.”
“In some states, they shoot men for saying things like that to pregnant wives.”
Max burst out laughing and ducked under the water as Trisha landed with a splash.
Gi Gi sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know where he gets that silly side of his.”
Kate rubbed her tummy. “Oh, sometimes it’s fun.”
Gi Gi glanced down. “Are you okay?”
Kate sucked in a breath. “I’m not sure, but I think I may have had a labor pain.”
Gi Gi’s face brightened. “Oh my God.”
“Relax. I’ve thought I was having pains every day this—” She stopped as another pain moved down her tummy. “Okay, that one felt real.”
“Really!”
Kate laughed. “You can be all excited because you’ll be sitting at the pool this time tomorrow when I’m in heavy labor.”
Gi Gi gaped at her. “You think it will take that long?”
She shrugged. “Trisha did.”
Removing her cover-up, Gi Gi said, “Second babies don’t take as long as first babies.” She headed for the pool. “Don’t wait too long before you tell Max.”
“I suppose this means I need to tell my parents, too.”
Gi Gi turned, put her hands on her hips. “Well, you certainly want them there.”
She laughed. She did want them there. She wanted her fretting mom and her cool-as-a-cucumber dad. He’d been a little careful about accepting Max back into their family, but Max had been patient and her dad had come around.
Another pain rippled down her tummy. She frowned. Wasn’t that a tad close? Maybe she should be timing these?
Gi Gi jumped into the pool. Trisha threw a ball at her and they began batting it back and forth.
A few minutes later, another pain attacked her and this time she groaned. Max was at her side in seconds.
“What’s up?”
“I think I’m in labor.”
“Okay.”
“And the pains are coming too soon and too fast.” She groaned again. “Man, am I sorry we don’t have a driver.”
Lifting her out of the chair, Max laughed. “Now’s not exactly the time to get snooty.”
“I’m not snooty!” she said, then she moaned. “This baby is coming right now. And I want somebody already in a car! Somebody who knows how to speed through traffic!”
Gi Gi got out of the pool. “Okay. Here’s what we’ll do. You two go. Trish and I will call your parents. Then we’ll get cleaned up and we’ll bring fresh clothes for Max.”
Kate gratefully said, “Sounds like a plan.”
She let Max lead her. After all, that was the only fun men had in this birthing experience. Leading. Watching. Encouraging screaming, agonized wives.
They made it to the hospital with plenty of time to spare. Her parents raced in as if she were dying, not having a baby. Then Gi Gi and Trisha arrived with the clean clothes for Max.
But Kate had another two hours of contractions and then suddenly it was time. Nurses scurried around, repositioning Kate, checking her blood pressure, preparing the space for the doctor.
Dennis excused himself. “I’ve seen two babies being born. That was enough.” He put his hand on Trisha’s shoulder. “Frankly, I think you can live another few years before viewing this glorious experience, too.”
Her eyes wide, Trisha nodded and followed her granddad out of the room.
Bev said, “Well, I’m staying. I’m not squeamish.”
Gi Gi laughed. “Me neither.”
Max almost wishe
d he could leave, too. Instead, he settled in on the stool they’d given him. Positioned by Kate’s chest, he held her hand. He’d missed Trisha’s birth. He wouldn’t miss Humphrey’s. He winced. “This might be a good time to come up with a new name for the kid.”
Kate squeezed her eyes shut as another contraction hit her, then said, “What? You don’t like Humphrey?”
“As a name for hippos? I think it’s fine. For a baby? No. I do not like Humphrey.”
The doctor arrived. He snapped on gloves. “Let’s see what we have here.” He tunneled in under the sheet that was still around Kate’s legs. “Oh, wow.”
He popped out. “Things are moving really quickly down here. Let’s roll.”
And roll they did. Within three minutes the baby was born. It hadn’t been as scary or as long as either his mother or mother-in-law had predicted. After a quick wipe and some procedures Max didn’t watch, the baby was placed in Kate’s arms.
His eyes filled with tears. “Oh my God.”
Kate whispered, “I know. Look at him. He’s beautiful.”
“He’s handsome,” Max corrected, his voice overflowing with emotion. “And I’ll bet he’s smart, too.”
Bev scooted over. “Wow. He’s adorable.”
“He’s wrinkled and prunelike,” Gi Gi said. “But so beautiful that I…” She stopped when her voice broke and she burst into tears. “I’m sorry,” she said, then she sniffed and reached for a tissue on the bedside table. “I just…” She swallowed hard and slipped away from Kate’s bedside.
With Kate busy doting over the baby with her mom, Max let his gaze follow his mom, who sobbed quietly in the corner. She composed herself and rejoined the group, ohhing and ahhing over the new baby.
From the bottom of the bed, the doctor said, “So what’s his name?”
Kate glanced at Max, then up at Gi Gi. “If Max doesn’t mind, I’d like you to have the honor of naming him, Gi Gi.”
She took a step back, put her hand on her heart. “That is so sweet.” Then she burst into tears again.