Share the Moon

by Sharon Struth

  A cold breeze stirred the powdery snow. She shivered and dug her naked hands deeper into the fleece pockets.

  Visiting here often brought back memories of the night he died. Especially the midnight phone call, the one every parent hoped they never received. Every detail felt close enough to reach out and touch, even all these years later. She’d gone to bed with half an ear tuned to the downstairs door, waiting to hear the click of it unlocking, assuring her he’d returned home safely. Instead, an hour later, the shrill, unexpected ring of the phone made her heart thump against her ribs.

  “Sophie. It’s Officer Boland.” The clock had read one o’clock and the foyer light in the hallway told her Henry had missed his curfew. Panic had simmered.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He hadn’t answered right away. The short second of silence had screamed with the clang of an alarm. “I’m in your driveway. Can I talk to you and Mike?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Outside their bedroom window, flashing red lights from the police cruiser had bounced off the blind slats. Mike had already jumped out of bed and slipped on sweatpants over his boxers.

  “I’d like to talk,” the officer had said quietly. Too quietly.

  “We’ll be downstairs in a second.” She’d hung up.

  “Is Henry okay?” Mike had asked over his shoulder as he headed for the bedroom door.

  “I don’t know.” Their eyes had met and a hard pit formed in Sophie’s gut. She’d thrown on clothes and raced out behind him.

  The next minute had changed Sophie’s life. Forever.

  Officer Boland’s statement hit with the force of an unpredicted tidal wave, the crash leaving only the echoes of words: Accident. Henry. Ice. EMS. No pulse. No heartbeat. The pit in Sophie’s gut had grown and threatened to explode. Her muscles had wobbled and refused to support her frame. Numbness had seized her tongue, the ability to ask for answers not within her control.

  The real terror of parenthood pounced on her and smothered her without warning. The terror she’d imagined from the time they were babies. Every time they were left in another person’s care, went to the mall alone, drove to a party where there might be alcohol, or hung out with friends, who really knew what they were doing? The same voice she sometimes ignored when logic intruded and reminded her kids needed space to grow up too.

  Sophie’s father had stayed with Matt and Tia that night. Jay had driven them to the hospital, where EMS had taken Henry’s body. The entire ride, Sophie had sat in the back seat stunned, sobbing, and wishing someone would shake her awake from this nightmare. After a lifetime of careful moves, she’d made a call so bad she truly had no say in the outcome.

  Her unfixable mistake.

  A flurry landed on her cheek, leaving a tiny spark, removing her from the dreadful night. When a second one fell, she realized the snow had mixed with her tears. Using her fingertip, she wiped the wetness and sniffled.

  The enormity of Sophie’s life sat before her right now, then a notion she’d never entertained hit with great force. Circumstances had always kept her in Northbridge, but maybe here was exactly where she should be. The circle of her life followed a path around Blue Moon Lake. Family. Friends. Lovers. Even losses.

  Small specs of fluffy white flurries danced in the sky, like angels forming a blanket of silence in the air. After Henry died, she’d learned appreciation could come as much from understanding pain as it did joy. Without one, the other would be empty.

  Please, Henry. If you’re okay, send me a sign.

  Another flake fell on her cheek. She left it alone, in case this was the sign from her son.

  Footsteps crunched in the snow behind her.

  Sophie turned. Bernadette must have seen her car in the lot and stopped. Instead, Duncan stood there, hands shoved deep into the pockets of a navy barn jacket, wearing a herringbone wool cap. He stayed motionless, as if he’d intruded on some holy ritual, but his pained, watery gaze suggested he’d found out about Henry.

  Every part of her wished Duncan knew she wasn’t upset with him, however, the surrounding memories made it impossible to push out a smile. She looked away.

  His footsteps crunched through the snow. He came up from behind and cocooned her in his arms. His hold weakened the tough stance on which she’d arrived.

  He pressed his lips gently against her cheek, their warm touch to her cold skin soothing a deep ache in her soul. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  The reasoning she’d used over the past several weeks replayed. She didn’t share the worst moment of her life with people she didn’t know well. Guilt seemed like a petty way to get him to give up the land. Or how she’d begun to question if her reason for wanting the land was rooted in a loss, a fact that suddenly seemed all wrong.

  She twisted around, buried her face against his chest and the dam of her tears exploded. His arms tightened and he stilled, only moving once to nestle her head more securely to his chest. Silence soaked up her grief yet, without any words, his nearness gave her support.

  She finally looked up. Duncan’s watery eyes mirrored her pain.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I left the studio mad. I’ve been trying to call you. Figured you were done with me since you didn’t answer any of my calls.”

  Sophie sniffled. “I thought you were making the ‘let’s end this now’ call.”

  The soft edges of his lips turned into a shy smile, one lifting her heart into a fluttering mess.

  Was Duncan her sign to move on?

  “How’d you find out about… About my son.”

  “Matt told Patrick. Then he told me. Elmer Tate filled in the blanks. God, Sophie.” He bowed his head toward the ground for a brief second. “I had no idea. I know so little about you. Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

  “It’s not a good conversation starter.”

  Duncan frowned.

  She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “The truth? I thought about telling you the first time we met in your office. When I barely knew you. Back then, I figured the truth would shame you out of town.”

  He raised a brow.

  “Now I don’t want you to go away.”

  “I’m not going any place.” He leaned over and brushed his lips tenderly against hers. “Will you forgive me for driving off angry?”

  “Of course.” She slipped her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry about the ambush at the studio too. I was backed into a corner professionally and personally.”

  “Once my anger settled down, I realized that.” He shook his head. “I must be going through some middle-aged man thing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My emotions have been worse than a teenage girl lately.” He shook his head. “Opening up about myself has never been easy, but I can with you.”

  She planted a soft kiss on his cheek and breathed in the clean soap scent on his skin.

  “You’re a brave woman, Ms. Shaw.”

  “Brave? Hardly.” Pain lodged in her throat. “Fear rules my world. I worry every day I’ll lose another child.”

  “You’re standing here, facing your fears. You were willing to buy this land, to face memories some would run from.”

  The size of her heart swelled in multiples for Duncan, who hardly knew her, yet gave her more credit than she’d ever given herself. “I wish you could have met him.”

  Duncan nodded, a watery glaze recoating his eyes. “Me too.”

  “When he was born, I felt like I’d been given new life. A chance to share new adventures, share my favorite books and movies, maybe see him live the life I’d wanted to have, away from Northbridge.” Duncan’s sad gaze made her drop her chin to her chest and stare at the snowy ground instead.

  She looked up and caught Duncan blinking back a few tears. “My wife’s last days were painful for her, but I was at her side when she died and…” He swallowed. “She seemed at peace wherever her soul went.
”

  “I always wonder about that. Once Bernadette and Dave came here with me. I was a wreck that day. Dave talked about what happens after someone dies and he told me Henry was in a good place, with people who loved him like my Mom and Nana. He also said Henry would want me to stop punishing myself.” She softly chuckled. “I asked Dave if he planned to leave the church to practice as a medium.”

  “Always a little sarcasm, huh?” Duncan curved his lips into a sad smile.

  She nodded. “Dave said ‘No, but both require strong belief.’ Then he said, ‘Henry died once, here. Don’t make him die every day where his soul now lives because of your sadness.’ It struck a chord.”

  “Dave’s a pretty insightful guy.” Duncan pulled her close, wrapped her in his arms, and whispered, “I’d give up everything I own to change what happened to you.”

  They stood quietly for several minutes, but the honest moment about her past felt right, even necessary. Duncan was no longer a passing ship in her life.

  He loosened his hold and looked at her. “Does your ex-husband think wanting this land is wrong because of losing your son here?”

  “You heard him at the basketball game?”

  He nodded.

  “I’m beginning to wonder if he’s right. Letting go of everything about this place could be my bravest move of all.”

  “But I took this from you.”

  She shrugged. “Or maybe I need to let go.”

  He winced, shook his head. “No. I feel horrible. My bid took this—”

  She covered his mouth with her palm. “Stop. Everything happens for a reason.”

  He removed her hand and kissed her fingertips with the softness of a single flake. “You’re cold.”

  “I kind of like the chilly weather. You, on the other hand…”

  He glanced down at her faux fur, calf-high boots. “Did you steal those from Chewbacca?”

  “Good guess.” She pointed to his Timberland Docksiders. “Did you miss the turnoff for the yacht?”

  He chuckled, quiet and throaty. “No. I didn’t plan on hiking through the woods this morning.” He tipped his head toward the garden. “Is that for…for your son?”

  “Yes. Henry. The place is beautiful in the spring.”

  “Will you bring me to visit here then?” He surveyed her face.

  Duncan’s offer bathed her in the golden light of a generous gift: his support and caring. The gesture to visit together was one Mike had stopped offering by the third year.

  She smoothed his cheek with her palm. “Bringing you here would mean everything to me.”

  His irises darkened and he covered her mouth with his, a warm and tender kiss that made her light and airy as the flurries surrounding them.

  When they stopped, she brushed a few snowflakes off his shoulder.

  “Want to join me at home for some pancakes? Filled with chocolates chips. We’d have the company of Patrick and his buddies too.”

  “You made chocolate chip pancakes?”

  He chuckled softly. “No. Helen.”

  “Sure. I’d love to come over. Let’s go.”

  They headed back toward the parking lot and Duncan’s fingers slipped through hers. He tightened their grip with a gentle squeeze, as if he’d captured something and was afraid it might slip through his fingers. She glanced over. He considered her with such deep longing that the heat of a blush rushed her cheeks.

  Yes. This was her sign.

  Chapter 25

  Full Moon: The earth, moon, and sun are in alignment, just as the new moon, but the moon now sits on the opposite side of the earth with the sunlit part completely facing us, the shadowed portion hidden from view.

  February

  Duncan didn’t consider himself a man who took the word “no” lightly, so he’d give this one more try. Maybe the third time would be a charm.

  He watched Sophie at the top of the snow-covered hill he’d just sled down.

  She waved to him from the hill’s crest and cupped her mouth. “Be down in a sec. Hurry up, Tia!”

  Tia slowly dragged a snow tube behind her up the hill.

  In the two weeks since Duncan had learned about Henry’s death on the Tates’ land, he’d twice offered to take his firm’s bid off the table. He no longer cared about his original goals and, quite simply, believed she deserved a future on the land.

  Both times, she’d shaken her head with an adamant no. “I can’t let you ignore the reasons that sent you here in the first place. It’s his real father’s land.”

  He didn’t want to say this to her, but his trust level with the two elderly brothers had dipped to below zero. Elmer’s strange expression as Duncan left their house last time they talked made him wonder what else they were keeping from him.

  He moved to warm his feet. Standing in one place made him chilly. According to the news, the blizzard of ’96 was the last time this much snow had covered the ground in Northbridge. Yesterday’s storm left twenty-three more inches of the fluffy white granules in one fell swoop, mounting on top of their second week of steady snowfall.

  A car pulled out of the entrance to Crickle Creek Orchards, across from the large hill near Duncan’s house. He waved to the orchard owner, who had downplayed the uncontrollable weather with a sign in the cab of a vintage truck displayed at the orchard’s entrance reading “FREE SNOW.”

  “Here I come.” Sophie dropped the tube onto the ground and plopped into it, adjusting her seating.

  She pressed her hands in the snow and pushed to start, gaining speed on her way down, and veering in his direction. “Fore!”

  He jumped aside and she flew past then spilled off the tube. He ran over, his feet slowed by the heavy boots and deep snow. He stuck out his hand and pulled her upright.

  She brushed snow off her pants. “Thanks.” Her fair cheeks and the tip of her nose were bright red. “Want another turn?”

  “Maybe. Come here.” He pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers. “Damn, your lips are chilly. This is fun, but I like the part where we go inside to warm up.”

  “Me too.”

  He kept hold of her mitten-wrapped hands. “Listen, now that I’ve got you here, I think we have some unfinished business.”

  “Careful, Sparky, the kids are over there.” She arched a suggestive brow.

  “Not that. But I always like a woman with a dirty mind. Seriously, though. Hear me out before you say no to this.”

  Her lips pressed firm, as if she knew what came next.

  “I have this weird feeling something else is going on with the Tates. My gut says I should step away. I don’t want to remove my bid and have someone else buy the place. It belongs to you, your family.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “God, you’re stubborn.”

  He chuckled. “Funny, I had the same thought about you.”

  She stared at him for a few long seconds. “In truth, the money end had me stressed from the start. My dad and Jay too. We’d have to sell at least two of our homes, take out a pretty hefty mortgage, and… Frankly, it was a financial stretch. Besides, I don’t want the guilt of taking the land from your brother. Can you understand that?”

  “You shouldn’t feel guilty. Trent’s interest is for a good reason, but yours is equally as valid. Probably more so.”

  She crossed her arms and bit her lower lip. “Yes, mine is valid. Here’s the thing, I don’t know what our future holds, but I’d never want you to look back on this decision and regret what you gave up for Trent. Please let fate decide. After all, fate brought you back here.” Her eyes softened. “To me.”

  His heart fluttered, the way it had when he’d found himself around her at the age of thirteen. “Okay. If you want me to wait, I will.”

  * * * *

  Sophie devoured the aroma of fresh bread in Bellantoni’s Market’s bakery then tossed a warm paper-wrapped loaf into her basket. The mouthwatering aroma did little to make her forget the question buggin
g her all day. Why hadn’t she just said yes to Duncan’s last request she reconsider buying the land?

  In part, every major decision she’d made in her life had factored in the happiness of others. So did some minor ones. Duncan tripped her up, a paradoxical catch-22. Someone ended up unhappy no matter what choice she made.

  What did she really want?

  One thing was certain. Duncan’s willingness to give up the land so easily confirmed he had nothing to do with the alleged bribery, a fact that created a vat full of remorse over tonight’s after-dinner trip with Cliff to Southbridge.

  Cliff had called early this morning and said he’d made arrangements with his friend Sean Carney to go to his father at a nearby nursing home. In a way, Sophie hoped Jack Carney didn’t remember anything from his old job as dispatcher at the station. She’d almost asked Cliff to call the meeting off. The request, however, might draw attention to the thing she’d kept from Cliff, her relationship with Duncan.

  The extent of her dishonesty these days sent a ripple of nausea to her stomach. After how upset Duncan got at the studio when he’d learned about the call to Marcus, there was no way she’d open another gooey can of worms by telling him about the anonymous note she’d hidden from him. With any luck, tonight’s visit to the nursing home would reveal nothing and Duncan would be none the wiser.

  Turning down an aisle, she spotted Duncan halfway down, still dressed in his work clothes and holding two spray bottles of bathroom cleaner. His brows dipped together and he studied the back of the bottle with more care than she’d give to medication. Glancing around and seeing the aisle empty, she inched closer, then abandoned her cart nearby, tingling with a rush of excitement over his unexpected presence.

  She stretched on tiptoes and grazed his cheek with a kiss. “Hey, handsome.”

  He looked her way and his eyes softened with the onset of a quick smile. “Thank God it’s you. I get kissed all the time when I’m in here. What’s with this town?”

  “Really?”

  “Sure.” His voice dropped, now low and husky. “You’re very distracting.”