by Annie Rains
Stooping beside the wheelchair, she kissed Ben’s cheek, making a loud smack with her lips just to tease him. “You need to get your rest, too. Principal’s orders.”
A dimpled grin replaced his frown. “I will. I’m helping out after school tomorrow, so it’ll be a long day,” he said, sounding like a little adult.
“That’s right.”
Micah reached for her hand, sweeping his thumb along the back and sending shivers up her spine before stepping forward and opening her car door for her. The gesture felt different than any he’d ever done. The kiss and the way he was looking at her felt different, too. No strings attached was definitely turning into something more. It’d turned into something more a long time ago.
“ ’Bye,” she said, pulling her car door shut as girlish excitement bubbled up inside of her. She’d expected that last night would change things between them. Expected that being at another military event with Micah would make her see him differently, that it’d remind her that he was something she never wanted to be a part of again.
Watching him with his son now, though, she definitely wanted to be a part of his life. Marine or not, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the man.
—
Later that night, after staring at her phone with her finger hovering over the redial button, Kat tossed it on the pillow beside her and reached for a stack of papers for work. She couldn’t very well call Rita with Micah on the brain. Much better to have a brain dulled by paperwork for that conversation.
A knock on her door made her look up from the papers. “Come in.”
Julie opened the door and leaned against the doorway. “Hey. Just checking on you. Making sure you’re all right.”
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” Kat asked a little too quickly, a telltale sign that she wasn’t okay. The weight of Rita’s phone call was gnawing at her.
Julie gave her an assessing look. “Oh, I don’t know. John’s mother called you last night.”
Kat shrugged, wishing she felt as nonchalant about it as she tried to pretend she was. “I’m sure it’s no big deal.”
Julie’s gaze moved to the phone beside her. “Which means you haven’t called her back yet.”
Kat shook her head. “Nope. Not yet. But I will. Just as soon as I finish this stuff up.”
Julie’s eyes narrowed. “It’s already past nine.”
Checking the watch on her wrist, Kat grimaced. “I guess you’re right. Tomorrow then. I’ll call her tomorrow.”
Julie’s gaze told her she wasn’t buying it. “Val said you’ve been invited to a support group at the Veterans’ Center. That might be something to think about.”
“Why?” Kat asked. “You haven’t been here, Julie, but I’m fine. Better than fine. You’re sleeping in the master bedroom that John and I shared. And this ring has moved off my finger.” Kat pulled the chain around her neck to show her sister. “There is absolutely no need to worry about me, okay?”
“There never is,” Julie said flatly.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Julie took a step inside the room. “It just means that you’re always so in control. So together. It’s human to fall apart sometimes, sis.”
Kat tilted her head. She knew her sister was just trying to help, and she appreciated the concern. But she was fine—most days. Softening her voice, she said, “I have fallen apart, and I’ve pieced myself back together. Truly. I will call Rita back tomorrow. Time just slipped away from me today.”
Julie nodded. “Okay.” She started to walk out and then turned. “I’m about to watch a movie on TV. Want to join me?”
“A black-and-white romance?” Kat asked warily.
“Yeah, so?” Julie asked, feigning insult as she crossed her arms at her chest.
Kat laughed. “Maybe next time. Thanks, though. I’m really glad you’re home.”
Julie smiled. “Me, too.”
“And next time I fall apart, I will definitely call you.”
“You’ve put me back together so many times. I’d love to pay you back one day. Good night.” She winked, and then shut Kat’s bedroom door.
“Good night.” Kat stared at her closed door for a long moment. She hadn’t lied. Everything was going perfect right now, better than perfect. And she was fine. She didn’t need to go to a support group to handle her issues, because she didn’t have any that she couldn’t handle on her own.
So, why hadn’t she called Rita back? And why was there still an unopened box of John’s things sitting on top of her dresser?
Chapter 19
Aunt Clara tapped Micah’s plate with her long wooden spoon. “Eat,” she demanded, gesturing toward his roasted vegetables, fresh from her own backyard.
Ben was already halfway through his meal, barely stopping to breathe.
“Chew or you’ll choke,” Micah warned, tapping Ben’s plate now.
“And we certainly don’t want to make another visit to the emergency room tonight,” Clara said, lifting a brow. “I swear you took ten years off my life last night, child.”
Ben looked up from his plate. “Sorry,” he said through a mouth full of food.
This made Clara laugh. “Don’t be. Just don’t ever do that again, okay?”
“I promise.” Ben smiled widely.
Micah wanted to add that Ben shouldn’t make promises he couldn’t keep, either, but with the way things were looking up these days, maybe it was true. He stabbed at a stalk of broccoli on his plate. “Where’s Uncle Rick tonight?”
“Oh, he’s got a newcomer’s car to work on. She broke down at the fire station.”
“Sounds like him.”
Clara offered a wobbly smile. “You have to love a man who loves to help others. It’s one of the things that made me fall in love with him.” She sipped from her glass of sweet tea. “So, you and your lady friend seem to be doing well.” Her brows lifted as she looked at him, silently soliciting details.
Details he didn’t want to spill in front of Ben.
Micah glanced over at his son. “How about you go eat the rest of your meal in front of the TV, buddy?” he said.
Ben’s eyes widened and his fork stopped in midair. “We don’t eat in front of the TV in this family. Ever. And I want to hear whatever you’re going to say. If Principal Chandler is going to be my stepmom, I want to know.”
Micah sighed heavily. “Go eat. And take slow bites.” He pointed toward the living room.
With a groan, Ben backed up his wheelchair and began rolling forward, careful to keep his plate balanced on his lap. “I want you to know that families aren’t supposed to eat in front of the television. That’s what the school counselor says,” he called behind him without looking back.
“Yeah, well this’ll be our family secret then, okay?” Micah waited until Ben was out of the room. “And turn up the volume really loud,” he shouted after a few minutes, glancing back at his aunt, who was frowning at him. “He already thinks Kat and I are the perfect match. And now he’s talking about stepmoms. I just don’t want him to get his hopes up any more than they already are.”
Clara’s knowing eyes softened. “Because it might not work out between you two?” she asked between chews.
“I haven’t exactly made the best choices for my family in the past. Jessica. Nicole.” He shook his head. “Kat is wonderful, but she might not be ready for something so”—he hesitated, tossing another glance in Ben’s direction—“complicated.”
Setting her fork down, Clara shook her head. “Seems to me that Kat is stronger than most. Look at what she’s already survived. And your life is no more complicated than her own.”
Micah moved his food around on his plate, knowing his aunt was right. Aunt Clara was always right.
“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a coward, Micah Daniel Peterson,” she said then.
His gaze jumped up. “A coward?” Few people in his life had labeled him as such. Actually, no one had ever accused him of cowardice to his face. �
��I’m not. I’m just being cautious. Ben is fragile and, as his father, I want to protect him.”
“Just him?” she asked.
He didn’t answer.
“You’re only alone if you choose to be, son. But making that choice for Ben, well, that’s what your father did to you. It takes more than one person to raise a child. Especially one like Ben.”
Meaning a child with special needs. “That’s why it’s important to only put people in his life who’ll stick,” he said.
“And what makes you think Kat won’t stick?”
The question made his throat and chest tighten. The thing was, he was pretty damn sure that Kat was the kind of person who would stick. She was loyal to the core. And she seemed to adore Ben as much as he adored her. She worked with kids for a living, and knew exactly what kind of responsibilities came along with caring for a child with cerebral palsy.
So maybe Aunt Clara was right and he was having a moment of cowardice. Seeing Kat and Ben act so close earlier in the day at Kirk’s Pizza House had been wonderful. And yet slowly, for the rest of the day, he’d let doubts settle in. What if this didn’t last? What if Ben got his heart broken yet again? What if he did?
Needing some air, Micah pushed his chair back from the table and stood. “I’ll be at home. Call me when you’re ready for me to walk over and get Ben.”
“He’s fine here.” Clara’s hand covered his. “I want to help you take care of him. Let me.”
The words tightened around his heart, squeezing it so hard that he couldn’t say anything. His five-foot-one aunt had already called him a coward. The last thing he needed was to be called tenderhearted or some other sissy label right now. Instead, he kissed her forehead and walked next door to the house he planned on growing old in. The question was, would he grow old alone here? Or would he trust his heart, and his son’s, to love one more time?
—
Kat hurried toward the back of the school the next day. Her parent conference had run longer than expected, making her late to the Friendship Club. Today was Kimberly Flowers’s last day, which should’ve been a relief, but Kim wasn’t who she’d pretended to be. She was a sweet girl, and over the last couple weeks, she’d become a good friend to Ben.
Kat stepped up beside the school’s counselor, Liam Blakely, and nudged him softly. “Thanks for covering. Any problems?” she asked.
“Not one.” The young counselor looked at her. “A lot of these kids frequented my office last year, but my room has been eerily quiet over the last couple months. I’d say this club is making a difference.”
This made Kat smile. “Don’t give me any credit. Micah Peterson is the one who put these kids’ hands in the dirt. And Ben taught them to talk to the plants.”
Liam’s brow lifted. “Talk to the plants?”
“Oh. I thought you knew. Apparently, there’s research behind it.” She giggled lightly, realizing how silly it sounded. “Some of these kids didn’t feel like they could talk to anyone. But they do talk to the plants.”
His head wobbled back and forth. “We could just fill my office with a bunch of ferns, and I’ll go on vacation.”
Kat eyed him playfully. “You’re full of great ideas, Mr. Blakely. And where would you go if I let you escape this place for a second?”
He shrugged. “Anywhere with waves.”
“The waves in Seaside will have to suffice because we need you too much here. A potted fern could never take your place.” She surveyed the group, and then her breath caught when she saw Mayor Flowers walking through the grass to come pick up his daughter. “Crap,” she muttered, tugging on her blouse.
“What?” Liam followed her gaze and he instinctively straightened, also.
“Mayor,” she said, meeting him halfway and forcing her best smile. “I didn’t expect you here.”
The mayor didn’t smile. “Kimberly is done today, is that correct?” he asked with unabashed irritation.
Kat nodded. “Yes, sir. She’s served her time and, I have to say, I think she’s enjoyed it.”
He narrowed his beady gaze. “I understand why she had to stay, Ms. Chandler. And I respect the fact that you didn’t give my daughter a free ride. But if I’m going to continue to support you, then you need to clean up your act.”
Kat’s brow lowered. Clean up my act? “I’m sorry?”
The mayor gestured toward the children. “You have these kids working on school grounds, I hear? I also hear that you’re dating an employee now, too? That you two were seen kissing in a public parking lot like a bunch of hormone-ravaged teens.”
News travels fast in Seaside.
Kat’s body stiffened. “What I do in my personal time is none of your business, sir. And Micah…um, Sergeant Peterson, is the school’s groundskeeper, which is a position contracted and paid for by the county.” She was also paid by the county, but she hoped Mayor Flowers wouldn’t get technical. “So, he’s not really an employee directly under my supervision.” At least not one that worked inside the building.
The mayor shook his head, looking disappointed. A few months ago, that look would’ve shattered her to the core. Her goal had been to prove to everyone that she was the right person for the job. To make a difference at SES, so that everyone would know she was capable.
And she had made a difference this year. She knew it in her heart, which was all she really needed.
“Kimberly,” the mayor called, soliciting the young girl’s attention. Kimberly looked back and frowned. Then she grabbed her book bag and reached inside to give Ben a folded piece of paper before running toward her father.
“Let’s go,” he said to his daughter, returning his gaze to Kat. “I want to support you because I believe in you. I always have. But public appearance is just as important as what’s inside your heart, Ms. Chandler. More important when it comes to staying put.”
She wanted to argue that the mayor’s reputation wasn’t the shiniest, but she held her tongue. She was better than that, better than the way he dealt with things. “See you later, Kimberly,” she said instead, flashing the girl a genuine smile and watching them walk away. When they were out of range, Kat blew out a breath and let her shoulders relax.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want your job for a second,” Liam said, stepping up beside her. “Why don’t you head out early? I can handle the rest,” he offered. “Even principals need a break every now and then, right?”
She stared at him. A lot of people had told her that lately. The business card that’d been burning a hole in her purse, and her thoughts, especially since Julie had brought it back up, came to mind. The Veterans’ Center’s director had handed Kat the card two months earlier, telling her to stop by sometime.
Kat had put off going, telling herself she didn’t have the time or the need to go. But ever since receiving that phone call from John’s mother, the support group for Marine widows had been at the forefront of her mind. A strong woman would’ve called Rita back by now, so why hadn’t she? Maybe she needed to go and talk to other people who’d experienced the same kind of loss that she had.
“You sure?” she asked, glancing over at Liam.
“Gotta earn my keep somehow, don’t I? See you tomorrow, Principal Chandler.”
She nodded. Okay. She’d go to the support group. And maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
—
A half hour later, Kat stared at her watch, hesitating behind the closed door. She was five minutes late. Being late was a pet peeve, and a perfect excuse for turning right around and going back to her car.
Deciding to come here had been a temporary moment of insanity. She didn’t need to be here. And, really, how would talking about John’s death help anything? People had been telling her to move on and stop talking about it for the last two years.
Right. So she’d just be leaving now.
“Kat. You came.” Allison Carmichael, the Veterans’ Center’s director, seemed to appear out of nowhere. “I thought your schedule wouldn’
t allow you to be here at this time.”
Yeah. That had been the excuse. And it would’ve worked if she hadn’t had a lapse in judgment. “Well, it looks like I’m late anyway, so I’ll um…” She rolled her lips together, glancing past Allison’s shoulders to the glimmering beacon of hope right above the facility’s double doors—the exit sign.
“Nonsense. The group is just about to get started. They like to kick off by having coffee and refreshments. Here.” She opened the door and gently pushed Kat inside. “I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
It was nearly as bad as walking into the Marine Corps ball the other night. All eyes suddenly turned to watch her, as she walked in with feet like lead. She wanted to turn around and walk right back out, but something about the eyes staring back at her…haunted and full of hope…lured her to continue forward. “Hi,” she whispered, swallowing hard.
The woman at the center of the circle stood and smiled warmly. “Katherine Chandler. We’re glad to have you.”
Kat nodded, the words sticking in her throat. “Please, call me Kat.” Conveniently, there was one empty seat, welcoming her to sit down. She did, and then something else happened—she started talking. And even if her story had been heard before, people listened and they understood because they’d all been through the same unspeakable horror of losing a loved one to war.
“He’s never coming home. I know that.” Kat’s hand went to the ring she wore on her neck. “And I need to let go. Really let go, if I ever want to move forward.”
When she left the meeting, she felt like a weight had been lifted. A big, oversized weight that she hadn’t even realized she’d been carrying. And just like releasing a balloon, she left her story in the support group. It didn’t define her, even if it’d always be a part of her.
“Will you come again?” an older Hispanic woman asked as they walked out into the front room together.
Kat hesitated and then nodded. “Yes. I think maybe I will.”