by Susan Floyd
She was surprised when he took both her hands and held them tightly between his. They stood that way for a long time watching Bernie, her mouth open, breathing evenly.
Eventually Christian looked at her, and Beth Ann gasped. His smoky gray eyes were red with unshed tears. “You shouldn’t be thanking me,” he said roughly.
“Why not?” Beth Ann asked puzzled. “You went far beyond the call of duty. At least I’m not in a huff anymore, about you commissioning the Air Force to take her to the doctor.”
“It was my fault.”
“Your fault.” Beth Ann looked at him in disbelief. “I find that hard to believe.”
“I should have been watching her more carefully. One moment she was by the beans, the next she was climbing near the shed. It happened so fast.”
“As it always does. She’s going to be okay, right?”
“Yes, but she’ll have one heck of a headache.”
“So I’m not sure how this is your fault.”
“I was responsible. I should have been paying attention.” Those last words wrenched from him.
“Children get hurt. That’s their job. I stopped painting when she was in the hospital for five days. The longest days of my life. Almost made me start smoking. Kids get hurt and we watch. And no matter how much we want to protect them from everything, we can’t. Actually, it’s amazing how many things we can’t protect them from.”
“She’s really his, isn’t she?”
Beth Ann could barely hear his voice. “I’d bet my life on it.”
“You know, I was okay with the fact that Caroline wasn’t faithful. But to know that she wasn’t faithful with my best friend—”
“No wonder she kept the baby a secret.”
“It’s worse than that.”
Beth Ann waited for him to continue.
“Max wanted her to get a divorce and she wouldn’t.”
Beth Ann swallowed. “Because she loved you.”
“Because she loved my money. It was never me.” Christian’s voice was hard.
“That’s not your fault.”
Christian finally said, “Yes, it was. I think I always knew that. We hadn’t been intimate in months. She stayed married to me because she needed my money to travel. If she had shown up pregnant, I would have known immediately Bernie wasn’t mine.”
Beth Ann waited a moment and then ventured. “But she is yours. Just like I was Grans, even though I wasn’t.”
“No, she’s not,” Christian muttered. “She’s anything but mine. Caroline, my wife, was her mother and Max, my best friend, is her father. And every time I look at her, that’s what I see.”
Beth Ann couldn’t believe what she was hearing. After all the time he’d spent with her, he couldn’t possibly reject Bernie. Not Christian. She tried again, “But Bern’s yours in every other way. Carrie spent ten days with her and then decided she didn’t want her. Max looked like he could barely tolerate her. You know Bernie like no other person knows her. You’ve seen her moods, rocked her to sleep, watched her tantrums, been persuaded to give her another fig bar even though you know you shouldn’t. All these things, these experiences, these acts, make her yours. You’re her father in every way that counts.”
“It’s not that easy, Beth Ann.” His voice was very final.
Beth Ann looked at him, her heart breaking, feeling the same way she had when Iris and her stepfather had argued the night before he left. “I know it’s not that easy. It wasn’t easy for me when I was suddenly a mother. And it wasn’t easy for me to think about the time when I would eventually have to give Bernie back because Carrie suddenly was ready to play mommy.”
She looked at him and confessed, telling him something she had never revealed to anyone. “You know, there were times that I wished, no prayed, Carrie would never come back.” Her eyes filled with tears. “And then when I found out she died— Well, it’s almost as if I wished it upon her. What more permanent way to guarantee that Bernie would never know her real mother?” She swallowed. “But what makes me angriest is that some day Bernie will know that her mother chose money over her. Ten software companies can’t make up for that. But you can.”
Christian didn’t speak.
Beth Ann bit her lip, the events of the past few days washing over her, leaving her drained and beaten. She exhaled as the silence lengthened. He was going to run away.
“So when are you leaving?” She could barely get the words out.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHRISTIAN WAS OVERWHELMED by her simple question. He didn’t know what to do. The little girl he had come to care for as his own, wasn’t, couldn’t be his. She belonged to Caroline and Max. He couldn’t help seeing Max every time he looked at Bernie, especially while she slept.
The longer he stayed with Beth Ann’s hodgepodge family in their rickety bungalow with only a swamp cooler and a big oak tree to fend off the heat, the more entrenched he would become, the more he could delude himself that there was actually a place for him here. But this could never be home as much as he loved it, as much as he loved the occupants. Bernie’s acute resemblance to Max made that painfully clear. He shut his eyes tightly. His place was as head of a multinational corporation, rattling around in a mansion thirty times larger than Beth Ann’s house.
Give me the company and I’ll leave this little bubble intact. Christian clenched his fists. He would not let Max destroy Beth Ann. He’d promised her that he would do anything to protect her and Bernie and he would, even if that meant he had to walk away from them, from the best sleep he had ever known, to fend off Max’s threats.
He couldn’t put Beth Ann in such a vulnerable position. She had no idea how nasty Max could become if provoked. Even if Bernie’s adoption was final, Max would find a way to contest its legality and her small paradise would be ripped to shreds— because of him. He needed to take care of this in his own way. If he was successful, she would be happy, content, never knowing how close she had come to losing it all. He would find some way to buy Max off and keep DirectTech for Bernie and Beth Ann. Even if Beth Ann didn’t want the company, he would keep it for Bernie until she turned twenty-one.
Beth Ann tugged at his arm. “You don’t have to go.”
Christian couldn’t look at her face, her tears. “I do have to go.”
Beth Ann shook her head. “We want you here. You’re the missing piece to our family.”
Those were the words Christian didn’t want to hear. “Don’t say that,” he said, his voice harsh.
“Why not?” Beth Ann asked.
“If I were paying more attention—” He couldn’t finish his sentence.
Attention. All that Caroline had wanted from him was attention. If he had been paying attention, rather than fighting with Max, then Bernie would have never been by the shed.
“Neither of us can watch Bernie all the time. We’re human. We do the best we can.”
The best we can. Could he really say he did the best he could? Had he with Caroline? Could he have taken more time off? Or just taken more time? Would it have mattered?
“You don’t need to run from this. Just stay here.”
“There are things you don’t know.”
“Like what?”
“Like—” He started to tell her everything and then stopped, his mind contracting and expanding with his thoughts. Finally he simply turned and started to walk out. But she caught his arm with both hands and pulled him back.
“Don’t you do that, Christian Elliott.”
“What?”
“Walk away from me. Tell me what’s wrong. There’s nothing the two of us can’t figure out together.”
“No. I promised I’d protect you.”
“From what? Does it have anything to do with Bernie? And Max?”
Christian closed his eyes and gently loosened Beth Ann’s grip on his arm. “No,” he answered quietly. “I need to protect you from me.”
Beth Ann cleared her throat and immediately put some physical distance between them. Somehow, s
tanding three feet away helped her from feeling dread at the thought of him actually leaving. Christian had become a part of her and she felt his hurt all the way down her throat, the pain awakening the young girl who had never really healed from her stepfather’s desertion.
“Please, don’t go,” she said quietly. This time, she could ask. Maybe if she had asked her stepfather he would have stayed. The tears were back, along with the sick feeling of helplessness.
“Beth Ann.” Christian’s voice came out ragged. “Don’t ask that of me.”
“You said you weren’t going to leave. That you’d never leave Bernie.” She couldn’t keep her voice from sounding accusing. She added quietly, “You said you’d never leave me.”
“I’m sorry, Beth Ann,” was all he could say before he turned and walked out of the room.
BEFORE BETH ANN went to sleep, she checked on Iris, who stirred awake as Beth Ann straightened the light coverlet.
“Do you want the fan on, sweetie?” Beth Ann asked.
Iris shook her head and then smiled. “Henry says hello.”
Beth Ann smiled. “Tell Henry hello back.”
“He says your paintings are going to be the best in the show.”
“And how does Henry know that?” Beth Ann inquired, plumping up Iris’s pillow. The slides were probably already in the mailroom of the hotel.
“He saw them.” Iris settled back into the pillow, her eyes alert. “What’s wrong, Beth Ann?”
Beth Ann shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong. Why would you ask that? It’s been a busy day.”
“Is Bernie okay?”
“Bernie is fine.”
“Did she really take a helicopter ride?” Iris looked like she wasn’t sleepy at all.
Beth Ann nodded. “He did it again.”
“He’s a good man. Carrie was lucky.”
“I don’t think Carrie appreciated what she had.” Beth Ann swallowed so she wouldn’t cry again.
Iris nodded. “I don’t think she ever stopped long enough to appreciate anything.”
“He’s leaving, Grans,” Beth Ann said finally, pulling up a chair to sit next to her. She leaned against the bed, her forearms bearing most of her weight. She couldn’t believe how much it hurt to say that.
“Not for long.”
“I don’t know for how long.”
“Not for long,” Iris repeated. She pulled one of Beth Ann’s curls and watched it spring back. “He loves you and Bernie.”
“If he loved us, he wouldn’t leave.”
“He has to. Be patient, Beth Ann. Be patient and he’ll eventually catch up to you. He will—Henry says so.”
Beth Ann laughed and gave Iris a kiss on the cheek. “Thank Henry for me and you have a good night’s sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
CHRISTIAN TOOK the coward’s way out. He blindly threw his few things into his bag and set the leather duffel in the hallway, before creeping down the hall for one last peek at Bernie. Moving as quietly as he could, he pushed open the door to her room, letting his eyes adjust to the dark. Bernie lay sleeping, the white bandage glowing, her mouth open as she breathed. He tread softly to the crib and couldn’t resist touching her rounded cheek one last time. Remorse choked him.
As he turned to leave, he saw Beth Ann lying on the daybed, wide awake, staring at him, studying his clothes.
“Drive carefully,” she whispered before she turned over and faced the wall.
Christian felt terrible, her words piercing him, but he couldn’t say anything, and he needed to leave before he crawled into that daybed with her and stayed forever.
He paused at the front door, staring out into the warm night.
“You don’t have to leave.”
He whirled and saw Iris sitting on the couch, dressed in her nightgown.
“Yes, I do.”
Iris smiled. “But you can always come back.”
“I don’t think it’s possible to go back,” he said shortly. He didn’t want to talk to her. He wanted to leave and just drive.
“It’s not possible to go back, but sometimes coming back means going forward.” She rose unsteadily and walked over to him resting her hand on his arm. “Just remember that you should always go in the direction of love. And know that you will never be loved more than Beth Ann and Bernie love you now.”
Unable to speak, Christian grabbed his bag and left.
BERNIE’S CRY awoke Beth Ann from a restless, dreamless night.
“Oh, sweetie. You had a bad accident yesterday,” Beth Ann crooned as she lifted her out of the crib. She pulled Bernie close and lay back on the daybed, her head still groggy.
“Mommy!” Bernie clung to her.
“I know, you hurt your head. On your birthday even.”
“Birfday!”
Bernie touched her head and started to cry again.
“I know, Bernie-Bern-Bern. You’ve got the biggest hangover ever. See that’s what happens when you indulge in too much of that birthday punch. Mommy’s got some medicine for you.”
Bernie whimpered and let Beth Ann carry her to the kitchen. Intending to give the toddler baby aspirin, she found a prescription on the kitchen counter. She tried not to be surprised by the note, written in Christian’s scrawl, underneath the medication.
Beth Ann,
Forgot to give this to you.
Christian
Then like an afterthought, he’d put a phone number at the bottom of the note. Not an invitation to call him. Nothing. Just the phone number. Beth Ann swallowed hard and supposed he thought he was doing what was best. No tearful goodbyes, no closure, not for her, not for him. At least she had new appliances. She measured out a portion of the medicine and tasted it. It was pretty awful.
Bernie looked at it suspiciously.
“Punch,” Beth Ann said.
“Punch?”
“Drink it just like punch.”
Bernie twisted her head away and then bumped her forehead on Beth Ann’s shoulder and started to cry again. Beth Ann tucked her close and rocked her. “I know. Bernie doesn’t feel too good this morning.”
“Appo juice,” Bernie finally said.
“I can get you apple juice. The brown one?”
Beth Ann put the medicine down and opened the refrigerator. Bernie pointed to the grape juice.
“That’s grape juice.”
“Gape juice.”
“Okay, sweetie.” Beth Ann nodded. At least the grape juice would mask the taste of the medication. One-handed, she opened the dishwasher and found Christian had run it before he left. She got a clean sipper cup, put in the grape juice and poured in the medicine.
“Here you go.” She handed Bernie the cup. After a moment she asked, “Can Mommy put you down?” She tried to put Bernie down, but Bernie protested.
“You’re so heavy, Bernie. Mommy’s got to sit down.” Beth Ann sat at the table and studied Christian’s note. At least he’d left a phone number, something Carrie didn’t do.
“UNCKISS?” Bernie asked as she searched the house. “Fuff?”
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Beth Ann said as she loaded the washer with Christian’s linen. Bernie’s temperament had changed miraculously as the painkiller set in. She still looked battle scarred, but Beth Ann had decided to leave the bandages on for at least the rest of the morning. She didn’t want to disturb any newly formed scabs. “Uncle Christian had to go to work.”
“Werk?”
“Yes, work. And I have no idea where Fluff is.” Beth Ann wrinkled her forehead. “Usually he’s not gone for such a long time. He’ll be back.” She didn’t know if she was talking about Fluff or Christian.
When she had ventured in the room he’d slept in for the past month she expected there to be some sign of him, a sock, something. But there wasn’t. It looked like her room, untouched, everything in neat order. He hadn’t left anything. Nothing to indicate that he had occupied the room at all. Be patient, Beth Ann. Be patient and he’ll eventually catch up to you. Beth Ann pre
ssed her lips tightly together, refusing to cry again. She doubted Iris’s words.
“Deggs,” Bernie informed her.
“Eggs? You want eggs for breakfast?” Beth Ann asked. She looked at the clock. “I guess it is breakfast time. Let’s go see how Nana is this morning. We all had a very exciting day yesterday.”
Bernie ignored her and kicked a few balloons not yet deflated.
Beth Ann knocked quietly on Iris’s door.
“Grans? I’m fixing eggs for breakfast. Do you want some?”
Beth Ann heard no stirring. It was good that Iris was getting some extra sleep. She was probably exhausted. She knocked again lightly, then pushed open the door a crack. Iris was still fast asleep.
Beth Ann walked over and placed a light kiss on her forehead and then stepped back in disbelief. She picked up Iris’s frail wrist and felt for a pulse, the stiffness in Iris’s limbs telling Beth Ann what she didn’t want to know.
“Oh, Grans. You, too?” Beth Ann whispered and pushed back Iris’s hair. “Why are you all leaving me?”
“Mommy?” Bernie hovered near the door.
“Hey, sweetie.”
“Deggs,” Bernie reminded her in an imperious tone.
“I know, honey. I’m going to fix your eggs. Come say goodbye to Nana.”
“Nana, bye-bye?” Bernie walked closer to investigate. She looked up at Beth Ann puzzled, then shook her head. “No bye-bye.”
Beth Ann pulled Bernie up onto her lap so she could see Iris. “Yes, Nana went bye-bye. She’s gone to heaven.”
“Broke?”
Beth Ann nodded, then said, “Well, not exactly broke. I’d say worn out.”
“Wore out.” Bernie patted Beth Ann’s leg. She smiled and then said, “Deggs!”
“I guess so,” Beth Ann smiled, blinking back tears.
While Bernie ate her eggs, Beth Ann called Fred and Glenn, who advised her to call 9-1-1. Thank goodness, her old friends knew what to do because she certainly didn’t. Surely, she should have been more prepared for this. It had been bound to happen. Iris was nearly ninety. But somehow, when the days are the same and the body chugs along, it’s difficult to think of the end.
She fingered the message with Christian’s phone number wondering if she should call him as well. He’d be in Napa by now. She desperately wanted to talk to him, cry on his shoulder. Christian was someone who really knew how special Iris was to her, to Bernie. But she didn’t want to hear his polite words. She just wanted him to come home. She put the number aside.