by Jade Kerrion
Jason sighed heavily. “I was just thinking about Raphael.” His eyes were bleak. “If he hadn’t screwed up, he would be here too.”
Screwed up, Michael thought, was an incredibly mild phrase to describe what Raphael had done on public record and off public record. “Raphael should have brought Lily back to visit us.”
“He said she didn’t want to come.”
“That’s not what she said.” Michael frowned. “Dad, do you think it’s possible that we could have misjudged Raphael, somehow?”
Jason looked up. “What do you mean?”
Michael shook his head. “I was just thinking aloud.” He heard voices at the front door. “Are you ready to meet Miki?”
“I suppose so.” Jason pushed slowly to his feet.
“Try not to overwhelm them with your enthusiasm,” Michael said dryly and stepped back out into the corridor. He looked up, his breath catching in his throat.
Lily stood at the door, dressed in a dark purple turtleneck and a black skirt. Miki wore a pink dress that looked like it came out of a Disney fairy tale. Combined with her mop of black hair and white sneakers, she looked like a little rascal poorly disguised as a princess. Lily placed her hands on Miki’s shoulders. “Miki, this is Grandma Connie. Can you say hello?”
Miki gave Connie an assessing stare. “Hello, Grandma.”
“Hello, Miki.” Connie’s voice was tremulous. She knelt to be on eye-level with the little girl. “I’m so glad to finally meet you.” She glanced back and waved her husband over. “This is Grandpa Jason.”
Miki eyed him suspiciously before saying, “Hello, Grandpa.”
Jason’s throat worked. The hand he extended trembled slightly. “We have a little tire swing in the backyard. Would you like to see it, if your mom says it’s okay?”
Miki looked up at Lily, who nodded her consent. The little girl toddled out to the backyard, with a hand in her grandmother’s and the other in her grandfather’s.
Michael released his breath in a sigh. “That went smoother than I expected.”
“No reason to be surprised. Miki’s had good experiences with grandparents,” Lily said.
As opposed to parents, Michael thought. “I know you’ll probably want to keep an eye on her. We can watch from here.” He led her to the patio door, looking out upon the small yard. He gave her a quick, sideway glance. “Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for the invitation,” she responded with equal politeness. “We’re glad we could visit before returning to Cambridge.”
“You’re returning to Cambridge?”
“Tomorrow morning,” Lily said.
“I thought you’d decided to stay.”
“I had another run in with your girlfriend’s cronies this morning.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Michael sighed. “And I can’t believe you’re running away. It’s not your style, Lily.”
“I’m not running away. I’m leaving before I give in to the urge to buy up the whole damn town and double everyone’s rents.”
Michael exploded into laughter.
Lily stared at him for a moment and then started laughing too.
“I guess I should be grateful I own my own place,” Michael said.
“Raphael said you lived with your parents.”
“Until recently, I did. I moved out a couple of months ago once I had the plumbing in the old chapel fixed.”
“The old chapel? The one on Lexington?”
Michael nodded. He watched her carefully for her reaction.
Her eyes widened. “You bought our chapel?”
Our chapel. She had called it our chapel. Had it been a slip of the tongue, or had she intended to mean something more? He nodded again. “Got it on the cheap about three years ago at a city auction. I’ve been restoring it ever since. If you put off your return to Cambridge, I’d be happy to show you some of the work I’ve done on it.”
“Are you trying to keep me from leaving Portsmouth?”
“It depends on whether you’ve done what you came to do. Have you?”
She shook her head.
“What’s stopping you?”
She shrugged.
“Don’t you trust me to help you through this?”
Lily didn’t meet Michael’s eyes. “Aren’t you angry with me?”
“Furious. But that’s in the past.”
“Generous of you.” A wan smile curved her lips. “It’s not as easy for me.”
“It isn’t easy at all,” Michael said. He drew in a deep breath. Together, they watched Jason and Connie take turns pushing Miki on the tire swing. “Three years is a long time. I thought I’d gotten over you,” he began in a conversational tone. “And then you came back to town and I realized I’d only been kidding myself.”
Lily said nothing.
Michael continued, “I’m not done being angry. In fact, for a while, I was angry and suspicious, though you probably didn’t notice.”
Her silence confirmed that she had noticed.
“Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
“What are you waiting for?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
Michael chuckled, the sound without humor. “If you’re waiting for a sign from God, you should know that he doesn’t make them like he used to.”
“Oh, how did he make them?”
“Used to be obvious, you know. Big moments, impossible to miss, like when your yacht first entered Portsmouth. Now, I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve seen a sign in the longest time.”
“Getting shot was a big sign for me.” Her hand went to her chest and pressed against a spot between her collarbone and her breast.
Michael stared at her. “Is that where he shot you?”
“One of them. The other one went through here.” She touched her other hand to her rib cage.
Tension stiffened his neck and shoulders. “That’s why you wear turtlenecks—to hide the scars.”
A crooked smile touched her lips. “I didn’t think anyone noticed.”
“But it’s obvious.”
“Only to you.”
Michael frowned. How could anyone else not have noticed that Lily’s flirty, summer-hued sundresses had given way to somber, dark-colored turtlenecks?
“I wanted to let you know that Miki’s enjoyed her swimming classes.”
He blinked, but went along with her sudden change in topic. “Glad to hear it.”
“How did you land up coaching swimming?”
It was an odd question, coming from her, considering everything she knew about him. “It seemed like the thing to do after graduating from college.”
“And not swimming for the national team?” Her voice was hesitant.
“Nationals didn’t seem like the right thing for me.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t qualify.”
~*~
Lily did not have to strain her imagination to hear the frustration layered over Michael’s anger. She swallowed hard through the lump in her throat. Anna had been right. Her leaving Michael had distracted him from swimming at a time when he had needed to swim better than ever. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She had ruined his life and his chance at Olympic fame.
She stared up into the handsome face of the boy she had once loved, the man she still loved, and studied the play of expressions across his features. Michael’s cheeks and jaw tensed as his muscles clenched. The thin lines at the corners of his eyes deepened as the hint of a frown furrowed his brow.
Then, without any warning, the moment passed. He exhaled, and his shoulders slumped. He reached for her hand, and she allowed him to take it. His fingers entwined with hers, the gesture familiar, his warmth comforting. “It’s all in the past,” he said. “We’re okay.”
“Are we?” Her head spun. After everything that had happened between them, how could forgiveness be so simple?
He looked at her. “Do you want to
be?”
The pressure against her chest squeezed the air out of her lungs. Half thoughts fluttered through her mind like panicked, broken-winged doves. Her lips parted. “Yes.” Her heart responded before her mind could.
Reality slapped her hard in the face. Did she dare believe that there was a path forward out of the tangle of her life? Lily would have pulled her hand out of his, but he tightened his grip on her fingers before she could tug away.
Michael offered her a rueful smile, the kind he used to offer her after they argued over something trivial and made up with a kiss. He did not kiss her that time, but he did not let her go either. Together, they stared out into the yard where Miki shrieked with laughter as she clung to a tire swing. Her wide grin flashed as her grandparents stood watch over her, their smiles stretching across their faces.
Michael nodded slowly. The smile that inched across his face softened the chiseled edge of his features. His hand squeezed hers gently. “Thank you for coming. It means a lot to them.”
And to me, Lily mused. Her hand in Michael’s felt right, and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel broken on the inside. Her breath caught as she acknowledged the truth for the first time. You’re the reason I came back to town.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Lily and Miki were at breakfast the next morning when Michael’s car pulled into the driveway. Lily caught a glimpse of the car through the open windows and had time to brace herself before Patricia, a thin frown plastered on her face, showed Michael into the dining room.
Miki threw her arms up in greeting. Her eyes lit. “We go swimming?”
Michael laughed. “I didn’t bring my swimming trunks, but I can always go back for them. I brought these instead.” He set down several large books on the table.
Lily rose and walked over to him. “What are these?”
“After you left, Mom spent several hours last night sorting through old photo albums and told me to bring these over for you. For Miki.” Michael’s face darkened.
Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for the first album. Had Connie Falconer insisted on sending over Raphael’s photographs for Miki to have pictures of her “father”? Why would the woman do that?
Dinner the previous night had been dominated by Miki’s antics and conversation. Mercifully, Lily had not had to contribute much to the evening’s entertainment. Jason Falconer’s gruff attitude toward Lily was quickly worn down by Miki’s smiles and laughter. Connie, however, had given Lily several long, probing stares—all of which Lily had chosen to ignore.
Now, she wondered if she should have just called Connie out on it when the two women were in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner. Instead, she had been grateful to play along when Connie asked how her parents were doing in Cambridge. That particular conversation, like all the conversations that evening, was as polite as it was superficial. Once, Connie and Jason Falconer had treated her like an extended member of their family; her marriage to Raphael had cost her more than she had imagined it would.
Focus on the present, she ordered herself as she turned the album cover. She stared at the photographs. A shiver shuddered down her spine. She had not seen many childhood pictures of the Falconer boys, but she knew the dark-haired little boy with gleaming eyes and flashing smile was not Raphael.
The shiver shot icy shards through her.
Connie knew!
Lily looked up at Michael who had seated himself next to Miki and was playing a kind of game involving strawberries on a fork hovering like a UFO beyond the reach of Miki’s grasping hands. She took a deep breath and was pleased by the steadiness of her voice. “These are pictures of you.”
Michael frowned and leaned over. He flipped through the album. “Yes, they are. I’m sorry,” he apologized immediately. “Mom had two stacks of albums, and I thought she told me to grab this one. I screwed up, or she got the piles mixed up. I’m sorry.”
No one screwed up. It’s just that your mother is more shrewd and insightful than you. Lily closed the album, grateful and touched by Connie’s gesture. Was it a first step toward reconciliation and forgiveness? She hoped so.
“I’ll take them back,” Michael said, his tone apologetic.
“It’s quite all right. I like having pictures of you.” Lily gathered the albums and took them to the master bedroom she shared with Miki. She set them down on the bedside table and ran her fingers over the leather-bound covers. Perhaps, at night, she would go through the albums with Miki in lieu of bedtime stories.
Perhaps the albums were the sign she had been waiting for—the green light to do what she had returned to Portsmouth to do.
Instead of returning directly to the dining room, she stood in the corridor where she could watch Michael play with Miki. Her daughter’s giggles rang through the house and resonated through Lily’s spirit. She could almost feel the darkness and the pain inch back from the assault of happiness.
For the first time, the promise of joy peeked through the fog of quiet misery that had enveloped her for three years. Perhaps it was time to reclaim her life.
Lily stepped into the dining room with a smile on her face.
Michael looked up, and his smile widened into a grin.
The butterflies in her stomach immediately went to work with vigor, as if to make up for three years of their absence. “How are your parents?” she asked. “I hope Miki didn’t tire them out last night.”
“They had a great time and wanted me to thank you for coming down. In fact, Mom asked me to invite you back again for dinner or even during the day, if you’d like someone to watch Miki for a few hours. Just let them know what works for you. They have the same number; do you have it?”
Lily nodded.
“Does that mean you’ll be staying in Portsmouth, at least for a bit longer?” Michael asked.
She glanced at his closed fist resting on the table. He was at least as nervous as she was, but she heard hope in his voice. It was time to meet him halfway. “Possibly. Will you show me the chapel you’ve been restoring?”
“Of course!” The sudden flash of his smile sparked the gleam in his eyes.
How could Michael not see that Miki’s eyes did the same whenever she was excited or happy? Not yet, Lily told herself. Instead, she enjoyed the moment. Warmth tingled through her as it always did at his unreserved smile. She could almost believe he still loved her as much as he had before she had broken his heart.
How else could he have forgiven so easily?
But then again, Michael had always been the most generous, warm-hearted man she had ever known.
His voice cut through her thoughts. “We’ll have to keep a close eye on Miki. A partially restored chapel offers lots of ways for a little girl to get into trouble.”
“Should we leave her here?”
Michael glanced at Miki. “She’ll be fine. There’ll be two pairs of eyes on her.”
“Miki can get into trouble with four or more pairs of eyes on her. In fact, the bigger the audience, the more trouble she can find.”
Michael grinned. “I was a bit like that as a kid. Still, I grew up fine. You’re going to be all right, aren’t you, Miki?”
“Super all right!”
“And careful?”
“Super careful!”
“And you’ll listen to what we say?”
Miki’s eyebrows arched up skeptically. Her rosebud lips twisted into a half-frown.
He chuckled. “At least you’re honest and small enough to scoop up under one arm if we think it’s more than you should get into.”
Her eyes widened. Her mouth opened, lighting her face with anticipation. “Scoop now! Scoop now!”
Michael picked her off her chair, turned her upside down, before setting her, right side up, on his shoulders.
Charmed by the easy interaction between Michael and Miki, Lily laughed. “All right. Let’s go.”
The drive to the chapel took less than ten minutes. Lily kept silent and focused on driving while listening t
o Miki chat with Michael. The fact that Miki was so garrulously social and loud set Lily’s heart at ease. Michael, without realizing it, had broken through the emotional defenses Miki had erected around all men ever since she had seen her mother get shot.
How much more proof do I need that she’s ready? Lily wondered. But is he ready? She pulled alongside the curb and cut the engine, before leaning forward to look past Michael’s shoulder at the stone façade of the chapel. She had always considered the chapel the most charming building in the old town of Portsmouth. It had good bones, so to speak, but she had envisioned a great deal more in all her wistful reminiscences of the building that she and Michael had once dreamed of buying and restoring together.
In her mind’s eye, she had seen lavender growing from the stone planters on either side of the steps leading up to the wooden front door of the chapel and wisteria flowering from the trees that framed the structure. In reality, the planters were caked with dirt and the shriveled remnants of plants, and the small patches of dried grass around the chapel were overgrown with weeds.
“It’s better on the inside, I promise,” Michael said, as if he had noticed her dismay.
She smiled. “Show me.”
The last time she had entered the building, she had stepped around rotting pews and nearly tripped on the uneven stone tiles. The pews had been removed, although the hand-me-down couches that took their place could have been almost as old as the pews. The stone tiles had been chipped to smooth down the uneven surfaces, and then polished. No longer obscured by cobwebs, the sun blazed in through the large stained glass windows. The thick layer of dust that once covered every surface in the chapel had been replaced by a thin layer of sawdust around the spiral staircase.
“Sorry about that,” Michael apologized. “I’ve been sanding the staircase.”
“No, don’t apologize. This looks amazing.”
“Like we talked about?” He led her through the building. The open space that included the living room, dining room, and kitchen was as expansive and as bright as she had imagined. The pine cabinets and built-in entertainment console gave the space an authentic eighteenth century feel while retaining all the comforts of modern civilization, include central air and an oversized plasma screen hidden behind pine doors. He continued speaking as she explored his home. “I know you wanted the kitchen on this side instead, but because of the plumbing I needed for the bathroom, it actually made sense to switch it…” A sheepish grin crossed his face. “I’m rambling, aren’t I?”