Her Reason to Stay

by Anna Adams

  Lose himself? Forget the fear of the moment when he’d have to put Will’s hand in Lisa’s? Neither were good reasons to make love to a woman who’d made him feel he was the only man who’d ever mattered to her.

  “I’ll tell her she’s going to be okay despite you being a complete jerk, for God’s sake. Get your clothes on straight and go home and make sure you can explain this to yourself before you set foot near Daphne again.”

  “If I could imagine how to have her and Will and not make any more mistakes, I’d be up there still.”

  “Instead you’re running off, half-dressed. Why not tell her you care?”

  “I tried, but she threw me out.”

  Daphne had seen straight through him and so did Raina.

  She handed him the sock that had dropped at his feet. “I think you’re wrong. You should give her a break, especially after what you’ve done. You have some nerve talking about what danger Daphne might bring your family. I’m positive you’ve damaged mine.”

  “Leave him alone, Raina.”

  They both looked up, startled to find Daphne on the landing, her hair in order, her face still glowing, but drained of emotion.

  “Please let me come back up and try to explain,” Patrick said.

  “You need a good woman, an ordinary, never-been-in-jail, never-slept-under-a-bridge, Honesty kind of girl to keep Will safe. Then you’ll feel safe, too. I’m not ever going to be her.”

  He climbed the stairs. “Go away, Raina,” he said. She stayed at the bottom. “Give us a second of privacy.”

  At the top of the steps, he faced Daphne, but nodded toward her sister. “At least you got what you came here for,” he said.

  “Yeah, but I wanted more.”

  “You’re not afraid to say that,” he said.

  “I don’t have a son, and I’m not using him to make sure I don’t get hurt.”

  “You’re saying this is about me, not Will?”

  She touched his cheek. “I don’t ever want to see you again. I don’t want to infringe on your friendship with Raina, but you and I are done.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t think straight. I should have talked to you right away.”

  “If you’d just said, ‘My ex-wife is coming back to town. I feel a hole opening underneath me,’ that would have worked. I’d have asked you in. I’d have done anything to make you feel better.”

  “I’m afraid if I let you into my life, even that much, I’ll never—”

  “Be able to get rid of me again.” She stepped away. “Well, you took care of that. Goodbye, Patrick.”

  He wanted to beg her to rethink, to consider what never seeing him again would be like, because he assumed it would be unbearable for both of them.

  But he’d done enough and then some. She deserved a better man.

  “Goodbye, Daphne.”

  He half expected to find Raina returning to the bottom of the stairs, but she’d gone back to the big house, or she’d simply walked out of sight. Shame sent him to his car without trying to explain.

  Loving Will more than his own life couldn’t excuse what he’d done.

  THE FUNNY THING about Daphne’s cleansing shower was that she hated washing Patrick’s touch away. She’d been as desperate as he more than once. She’d done things simply to feel good for a moment, not letting herself consider the consequences of the moment after.

  But, as with Danny Frank, she could feel empathy and yet be determined he wouldn’t get away with it.

  Drying her hair, she thought she heard a knock on the front door. She straightened and set the blow-dryer on the counter. “Coming.”

  She shut the door on her rumpled bedroom and hurried to the front of the apartment. Raina was on the landing.

  “I bring commiseration.” She lifted two long brown bags.

  “I hope those are baguettes.”

  Raina shook her head. “Nope. Yours is sparkling grape juice. Mine is wine—the cheap kind I like instead of the good stuff my mother kept in the cellar.”

  “You don’t want to go in the cellar because you remember her down there.”

  “I remember her everywhere.”

  “Suddenly, I realize I just can’t help analyzing any unsuspecting soul who wanders past me. Possibly as a way to ignore my own problems.” Daphne led the way to the kitchen. “But you shared wine tasting. That was something special you did together, so you mourn for that the way you mourn for her. Every time you go to the cellar.”

  “You’re changing the subject,” Raina said.

  Daphne opened a cabinet and turned, brandishing two of her best bright blue plastic disposable cups. “Because I feel like an idiot.”

  “Why did you do it?”

  “I love him, and I’m thinking love makes me stupid.”

  Raina took the cups and opened the sparkling grape juice first. “Is it all right for you to do this? Hang out with me while I drink wine? I can have juice with you.”

  “It’s probably not a great idea to follow a drown-my-sorrows ritual, but I don’t expect you never to drink again. Your wine is fine as long as I don’t drink it.” Daphne took her cup and went to the fat sofa Raina had remembered her grandmother using. “Are you upset because it was Patrick?”

  “I’m pissed as hell,” she said with un-Raina-like emphasis. “He ought to be glad I don’t have a shotgun.”

  “I’m not entirely comfortable talking to you about him.”

  “I told you a long time ago. He’s my best friend. Nothing more, and not much of that right now.”

  Daphne couldn’t forget Patrick’s desperation. He had needed her. Or he’d needed a body that attracted him.

  That idea wouldn’t leave her alone. “Would he have found a friendly hometown girl if I hadn’t been so damn available?”

  “I look just like you. If he was going after a type, he’d have noticed I’m a woman before now.”

  “He notices women.” No man who made love like that could not notice. He knew how to please, damn him.

  “He was angry with me because I said he didn’t care for you. Did you think he loved you?”

  Did she? Of course she did. And the thought that she’d been wrong hurt. “Raina, do we have to talk about it? I know I made a massive mistake, and I won’t repeat it.”

  Raina brought her glass over. She sat on the couch, curling her feet beneath her. “He’s like a brother I take for granted. I do love him, and I worry that he’ll never trust anyone again because of Lisa.” She drank and then rolled her head on the back of the couch. “I don’t want him to overprotect Will so much he’ll be afraid, too.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that. Will acts first and thinks later. If anything, I’m on Patrick’s side where Will’s concerned. I nearly coughed up a lung that day he hit me with his ball because he’d wandered off again.”

  Raina sat back. “Why? Has Patrick infected you with his suspicious nature?”

  “Maybe Patrick and I believe the worst can happen because we’ve seen it. What are you thinking that has your forehead tied in knots?”

  “That maybe you and Patrick aren’t as impossible together as I thought. That kid needs breathing space.”

  “He’s five years old.”

  Raina sipped her wine. “Patrick should get over it all so that Will can.”

  “Get over it? Will’s his child. Imagine losing a child because a woman you loved cannot and will not take care of him. Because right now she loves drugs more.”

  “I’m sorry for that, and you can count me among the adults who’d protect Will with their last breaths. I’m grateful Lisa’s never managed to get her hands on him, and I hope she’ll have to jump through hoops to be his mother again, but you’re my family, and I don’t want to lose you.”

  Daphne sat back, surprised that Raina couldn’t see how much she loved her. “You nut. I’m not going anywhere. Even though I’m going to feel a little shame for being so stupid every time I see that man.”

  “For
caring too much, you mean. Listen to me. Forget I’m the sheltered little girl you saw in that chair in Patrick’s office. You don’t have the corner on human behavior. Patrick thinks you can’t stop drinking, but he couldn’t control a couple of his basic instincts tonight, either. And no matter what you say, I am afraid you’ll go away again. What if you decided you couldn’t live in town and look Patrick in the eye?”

  Her voice broke. Daphne stared, her throat tight. “What’s in this grape juice?” She held up her fine plastic stemware. “I feel like crying.”

  Raina stared at her, both eyebrows lifted.

  “Sorry,” Daphne said. “I meant I love you, too. I thought you’d be on his side if we ever came to this.”

  “You’re my sister.” She set her glass down. “Not that I want either of you to make me choose.”

  Daphne pulled her own feet up underneath her, smiling because she realized she and Raina probably looked like bookends. “I’m glad you didn’t take sides the moment you saw us tonight.”

  “I sort of did. I told my best friend to stay away from my sister until he could explain himself. And I want a damn good explanation.”

  “That’s a reasonable stance, Raina. Not one that works in emotional situations, I fear.”

  “He didn’t embrace it as great advice, either.” Raina grabbed a pillow and punched it into the chair beneath her other arm. “Do you love him?”

  Daphne ducked a straight answer. “He goes out of his way to help people. I’m seduced by that. He came to me the first night, when I was staying in the hotel, and he tried to talk me into moving. He didn’t know me, but he wanted me to be safe.”

  “He does think he knows best about everything.”

  “Raina, he’s still your friend. Don’t assume he’s in the wrong.” She had a sip of grape juice so sweet it made her grimace. “I didn’t forget where the door was after I let him in.”

  “He knows he’s not ready for a relationship right now. Coming here was selfish.”

  “He loves Will so much he’s pretty much given up his own life. I’ve never known a parent like that. I may hate the way he thinks of me, and I won’t see him again, but he believes it’s all for Will. Until he figures out he’s the problem, there’s no way to fix it.”

  Raina went back to refill her cup. “I’m not sure he wants to fix it. No matter how much he wants you, he doesn’t want to get hurt again, either. He really loved Lisa, too.”

  “So he’s capable of love.”

  “I didn’t say that to hurt you.”

  “I was serious. He knows how to love. We’re just not right for each other.”

  “You are fine. Don’t let Patrick persuade you—”

  “Patrick’s already in my past.”

  “I doubt it,” Raina said, “and I’m supposed to the be naive one.”

  “I can’t help wondering what’s going to happen with Lisa.”

  “She’s Patrick’s problem. Yours is getting over him.”

  “That would be fine, except I can’t stop loving him just because I want to, any more than he can stop holding back.”

  Raina had no snappy answer for that. But she sat next to Daphne, tugging her close.

  “I don’t know how you stop, but my shoulder’s here for you.”

  “Maybe I’ll just lean on you then. Leaning is so much nicer than crying like a kid.”

  “Yeah, that wouldn’t help.” Raina wiped a tear off her own cheek and they laughed.

  HE’D RARELY DONE anything more idiotic. He hadn’t meant to use Daphne. He wanted to call her, but when he reached for his phone, he couldn’t find it.

  His mother came out of the family room.

  “You look horrible,” she said.

  He barely restrained himself from looking to see if his shirttail was wedged into his zipper.

  “Try not to worry so much about Lisa. The courts have been on Will’s side, and they’ll continue to test her, so she won’t be able to claim she’s better without proof.”

  She patted his back. He didn’t tell her the number of his clients who’d beaten drug tests.

  “I’m fine. Thanks for staying. Did Will go to sleep easily?”

  “I think he’s in better shape than you.”

  “I hope he stays that way when his mother gets a court date.”

  “He will be better off having a relationship with her as long as the court keeps an eye on her drug use.”

  He could too-easily imagine himself going to pick Will up after a visit, finding Lisa, all her possessions and his son missing.

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Call me if you need me, son.” She took her purse from the bench and dug out her keys. “I’m a short drive away.”

  “Night, Mom.”

  As he shut the door behind her, he searched his pockets again for his phone. Not in his jacket or his pants. He must have left it in the car.

  Anyway, what could he have said to Daphne to make anything better? He wouldn’t lie to her and he couldn’t tell her he saw their problem differently.

  She fully intended to live sober every day of the rest of her life. He believed in her. But she also attended a daily meeting to remind herself not to give in to an overwhelming compulsion.

  And the image that stayed in his head was of his son, on a gurney in the E.R., barely moving, calling for his mom who’d left him to nearly die.

  Why did Daphne keep saying this was about him? Didn’t she realize he had to keep Will safe?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “I NEED TO GO to bed.” Raina stood, her feet unsteady. “How many glasses did I drink?”

  “I’m not sure. Want me to walk you to the house?”

  “No.” Raina wrapped herself in the grape-soaked remains of her genteel dignity. “Don’t mind me if you find me stringing a homemade alarm across the stairs.”

  “Alarm?” Daphne asked.

  “Tin cans or something to warn you and me if Patrick comes back.”

  “I don’t see him loading Will into the car so he can sneak back here in the dead of night for a hook-up.”

  Raina grinned. “I thought better of him, too, until tonight.” She hugged Daphne loosely. “Will you be able to sleep?”

  “After I paint a little.” Assuming the paint hadn’t hardened into glue. “Oh, man, I left the can open all this time.”

  “Paint, we can replace.”

  Daphne walked her sister down the stairs and pointed her toward the house’s kitchen door. Back in her apartment she tossed their cups into the recycling bin and washed up.

  At the end of the counter, she came upon Raina’s open bottle of wine. It stopped her like a coiled, hissing snake.

  She licked her lips, but dropped the sponge and put her hands behind her back.

  One little sip. One small taste to cleanse her palate of the horrible, heart-stabbing day.

  No one would ever know. Not Raina or her group at the church. Not Patrick.

  She moved closer. Her mouth watered. Her cheeks almost hurt as she thought she could taste the wine’s strong, dry bite.

  No one had to know. She wasn’t about to step into a car. She’d hurt no one.

  Except herself. She’d break all the promises she’d made, and she’d become the woman Patrick feared most. More important, damn it, she didn’t need wine. She needed to put her paint away and burn her sheets and go to bed.

  With a nice sensible to-do list, she set to work.

  SATURDAY MORNING, bright and early, she woke and sat up to find Patrick’s coat on the floor near her door.

  Raina could return that to its owner.

  Just then, the pocket rang. She stared at it, tempted to answer, but too annoyed to help Patrick out. No doubt he’d discovered the phone missing.

  She was tempted to walk on those pockets.

  In a while she’d call and let him know it was still here. Until then…She picked up the coat, her only thought to toss it into Raina’s yard.

  Instead, she lifted it to he
r face. How sad must he have been to put on a coat in this weather?

  The navy material smelled of Patrick, man and leather from his car and everything nice.

  Tears caught at her with sharp claws. She resisted crying and threw the coat on the end of the counter.

  Instead of hurling Patrick’s goods into the great outdoors, she’d go out herself. Raina had said she could plant a small garden behind the garage.

  Better to anticipate beautiful crocuses and tulips next spring than whiskey and a man she couldn’t trust.

  She’d already dug up the bed and prepared the soil. So she put on jeans and a T-shirt and drove into town to buy bulbs.

  AFTER HE’D SEARCHED his car and his office and Mitch Espy’s parking lot, Patrick finally realized he’d left his coat and his phone at Daphne’s.

  For a second, he considered asking Raina to pick it up, but she’d call him a selection of well-deserved names and tell him to get it himself. Again, he dropped Will off at his mother’s.

  “Where are you going?” she asked as Will ran to the kitchen to set out Play-Doh makings.

  “I have to get my phone, Mother. I left it at Daphne’s yesterday.”

  “What’s wrong with you, Patrick? I think you’re frozen inside.”

  “Why does everyone keep saying something’s wrong with me? I’m handling a problem that might cause pain for my son.”

  “And for you?”

  “I’m attracted to Daphne. Mother, this isn’t a conversation you and I need to have.”

  “I’ve been young. I’ve even loved the wrong guy once in a while—before I met your father, of course. I know how the world works.”

  “I’m the bad guy. Daphne did nothing wrong.”

  “You left your phone on purpose?”

  When he thought about it honestly, he couldn’t say his unconscious wasn’t smarter than he was. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”

  “You need to leave that young woman alone. She cares about you.”

  “I know. You’re right.”

  “I saw her after an AA meeting.”

  “You knew, too?” he asked.

  “She wanted to tell you herself. I thought that was brave.”

  “I meant I was trying not to mention it to you until you had to know. I never wanted to hurt her.”