If You Come Back To Me (Mills & Boon Spice)

by BETH KERY

  Thinking about discovering those wonderful characteristics in their child without Marc there to share those moments caused grief and sadness to slice through her like a knife.

  She wrapped her arms around her belly as if she was staunching a wound. Tears gushed down her cheeks. She lay on her side on the bed and suffered in solitude.

  She awoke the next morning regretting the way she’d been avoiding Marc. He deserved better than to be turned away at her front door like an annoying salesman. She resolved to call him later. She wanted to ask him about Brigit. Marc must be worried sick about his mother. It certainly sounded as if her heart attack hadn’t been a major one, but why hadn’t she been following her doctor’s orders?

  She had an appointment at the obstetrician’s office that afternoon, and she needed to complete a few more things for The Family Center. Eric, Natalie and she had planned for an opening at the end of August. She regretted nothing more than how Brigit Kavanaugh had responded to the news of the project, but Mari would move forward, nevertheless. Hesitation now twined with her determination to open The Family Center, but the idea of stopping now when their intentions were so good seemed very wrong, indeed.

  Her appointment at the obstetrician’s went quickly, much to Mari’s surprise. The obstetrician, Anita Carol, was a friendly, African-American woman, a few years older than Mari. Mari told her about the bouts of dizziness and nausea, and Dr. Carol recommended frequent, small meals to keep her blood sugar steady and prevent nausea.

  She did a quick exam and told Mari make an appointment for an ultrasound. Mari wasn’t planning on being in Harbor Town that much longer but she didn’t bring that up to the doctor.

  “The baby’s father can come to the ultrasound, as well,” Dr. Carol said brightly on the way out the door. “We should be able to determine the sex by that time, if you two are interested in knowing.”

  Mari remained seated on the chair in the exam room after the doctor left. She rubbed her belly through her jeans, feeling hollow inside…empty…lonely at Anita Carol’s parting words.

  She irritably wiped at her eyes when they stung. How could she possibly cry more when she’d shed bucketfuls of tears yesterday?

  She came to a standstill outside of Dr. Carol’s office when she saw Brigit Kavanaugh. Brigit also halted abruptly in the hallway.

  “Brigit. Are you…are you well?” Mari asked once her lungs unstuck and she could breathe again. She anxiously searched Brigit’s face. She would never have guessed Brigit had been in the hospital the day before yesterday for a heart attack. Dressed in jeans and a fashionably belted turquoise tunic, she looked quite healthy.

  For a few tense seconds, Mari wondered if their chance meeting was going to a repeat of the one on Main Street. She exhaled in relief when Brigit spoke, albeit stiffly.

  “I’m fine. They released me yesterday morning. The doctor says there was no significant damage to my heart. I’m just here to fill some prescriptions at the hospital pharmacy.”

  “Thank God,” Mari whispered.

  “You were here for an appointment?” Brigit asked, glancing behind Mari.

  “Yes,” Mari mumbled. Too late, she turned and noticed where Brigit stared. The nameplate on the door read Anita Carol, M.D., Obstetrician. Brigit’s glance flickered down over Mari’s abdomen. For an awkward moment, neither of them spoke.

  “I heard from Colleen about the project you’re starting for the survivors of substance abuse.”

  Mari tried to swallow but her mouth felt too dry. “I…yes. Can we sit down, Brigit?”

  Brigit drew herself up tall. “I assure you I’m fine. I feel very healthy. I’m not going to have another heart attack,” Brigit said crisply.

  Mari smiled. “Actually, I was asking if we could sit down for me.”

  The straight line of Brigit’s frown quivered. “Of course,” she said quickly. “Just over here.” She led Mari to a bench in the quiet hospital hallway. “Take a deep breath,” Brigit said briskly once they sat. “You’ve gone pale as a ghost.”

  Mari followed her advice, trying desperately to calm her rioting thoughts. After several seconds of silence, Brigit spoke.

  “I don’t suppose you could have started this Family Center in San Francisco?”

  Mari blinked at the sound of Brigit’s wry tone.

  “I didn’t plan for it in Harbor Town to upset you. I meant for The Family Center to be a positive thing…a healing thing, not a source of upset.”

  Brigit looked incredulous. Mari sighed heavily, feeling defeated.

  “I’m sorry. I can see you feel otherwise,” she said quietly. “I can only pray you’ll eventually believe me when I say I never meant to cause you any serious harm or pain.”

  Brigit didn’t respond. Perhaps she felt it was unnecessary, given the circumstances.

  “I understand you were with Marc in Chicago over the weekend.”

  Mari levelly met Brigit’s stare. “Yes.”

  “He’s determined to have you, no matter what I say. He’s always been that way, as you probably recall.” The older woman sighed and looked at the opposite wall. She seemed lost in her thoughts. “Once he set his mind to something, Marc always got his way. Even when Derry died, even after all the money for his law school tuition was taken away, Marc just plowed ahead. He went to the University of Michigan instead of Yale where he’d been accepted and planned to go. The tuition was much less expensive, although far from cheap. He worked two jobs and had to take out loans, but he got his degree with honors. Did he tell you that?”

  “No,” Mari whispered through leaden lips.

  “He wouldn’t have said anything, I suppose. Not to you.” She turned and looked at Mari. “You were the one thing he wanted and couldn’t have. It doesn’t surprise me, the way he’s pursuing you. It’s in his character, I suppose.”

  “You don’t admire his determination in this instance,” Mari said.

  “Determination? I’d call it stubbornness and pride, wouldn’t you?” Brigit shifted her purse onto her shoulder and stood. She hesitated. “Take care, Mari. You don’t seem entirely yourself.”

  Mari remained seated as Brigit walked away.

  Her heart felt like a stone in her chest when she heard the knock at the front door later that evening. She paused in the action of cutting some bananas for a fruit salad. His stance wary, Ryan’s eyes flashed as he glanced at her.

  “It’s okay. If it’s Marc, I want to talk to him,” Mari told her brother with a reassuring smile. She felt her brother’s stare on her as she walked out of the kitchen.

  She opened the screen door. “Hi,” she said tremulously. Marc stood there on the porch looking beautiful to her, his dark blond hair wind-ruffled, his jaw darkened with whiskers, his blue eyes gleaming in his shadowed face.

  “Hi.”

  A ripple of sensation coursed down her neck and spine at the sound of his low, hoarse voice.

  He waved toward his car in the sunlit driveway. “Will you come for a ride?”

  Mari nodded. She stepped out onto the porch, feeling like a prisoner walking to the gallows.

  Neither of them spoke after they’d gotten into the car. Marc drove to The Family Center. He glanced over to her and gave a small smile when she gasped in pleasure. A painted blue, brown and ivory sign had been placed next to the entrance.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Marc said as he parked the car and nodded toward the freshly painted sign. “Liam had to get back to work, but when he heard about the Center, he wanted to do something. He commissioned Joe Brown to make it before he left Harbor Town. Joe left him a message saying he installed it Saturday.”

  Mari was too amazed to speak. They got out of the car and went to examine the sign. Joe had included a small landscape in the corner of the sign, a dune and a sunset. Mari recognized the vista off Silver Dune. Beneath the name of the organization and contact information, a two-word quote had been added.

  “Choose hope,” she whispered. After several seconds, she glanced up a
t Marc. He watched her, his eyes like two steady beacons beckoning her to shore. Her throat ached when she swallowed. “I need to make sure I get Liam’s number from you. This was so wonderful of him.”

  Marc nodded and grabbed her hand. They took a rough path through evergreen, oak and maple until the tree line broke and they walked out onto the dune. Lake Michigan looked periwinkle blue beneath the fiery orange, sinking sun. When they reached the end of the dune, Mari turned toward him. She nodded toward the water in the vicinity of where they’d sat in the boat and watched the sun rising several days ago.

  “We’re back on the shore now,” she said quietly. “Watching the sunset again.”

  His hand came up to cradle her jaw. He whisked his thumb across her cheek. “Sunrise. Sunset. They’re all good, as long as you’re here.”

  Mari distantly wondered if her throat would ever stop aching. Lately it seemed to be constantly swelling with emotion. “It’s been a difficult trip…coming back to Harbor Town,” she murmured.

  “Mari, about what Colleen said in the hospital…I know it upset you. But Colleen was worried—”

  “I know,” Mari said rapidly. She turned toward the lake, missing Marc’s caress when her motion caused his hand to fall away. “Of course she was upset. I would have been, too, given the circumstances. It’s completely natural.”

  Out of the corner of her vision, she saw Marc stiffen. “So why have you been avoiding me for the past few days?”

  “I needed to think,” Mari said, her gaze on the dancing waves of the silver-blue lake.

  He didn’t speak for several seconds. When she glanced over at him, she saw his mouth had drawn into a straight line. She’d never seen Marc look so grim. Somehow he’d guessed what she was about to say.

  “Don’t do this, Mari.”

  “One of us has to,” she said in a hushed voice. “I was right. It would never work, you and me.”

  “It does work,” he said, putting his hand on her upper arm. “It always has!”

  “For us,” Mari replied, just as heatedly. “It works for us, Marc. But we’re not the only two people on the planet. There are other people…other lives we have to take into account.”

  “I don’t accept that. We’re not hurting anyone by being together. What happened with my mother was scary for everyone, but that had nothing to do with you starting The Family Center or us being together. It had everything to do with the fact that she’s been ignoring her physical health. I’ve had a long conversation with her about it. She’s agreed to take her medication now and follow the doctor’s treatment advice.”

  “I spoke with Brigit, as well.”

  He paused for two heartbeats. “You did? About what?” he asked warily.

  “She seems to be of the opinion that you want me this much because I was the one thing you never could have.”

  “And you believed her?” Marc asked, anger entering his tone.

  “No…at least not totally.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Not totally?”

  She paused for a moment, gathering herself. She waved toward the edge of the dune in the distance.

  “Do you remember us standing there on the end of this dune together? It would have been fifteen summers ago. Just weeks before the crash, if I’m not mistaken.”

  He didn’t respond to her quiet question, but she sensed the tension coiling in his muscles.

  “I was terrified,” she said softly. “Literally. I still have a fear of heights, you know. But I jumped. Do you know why?”

  She turned to look at him, but he still didn’t speak. She hated seeing the rigid, hard lines of his face cast in the crimson rays of the dying sun. His eyes were usually so alive when he looked at her, but at that moment, they looked cold with dread.

  “Because, once upon a time, I would have followed Marc Kavanaugh anywhere. Anywhere,” she added fervently. She shook her head sadly. “But things changed. And I’m not a child anymore. I have others to consider.”

  “I see. We’re back to this, then. I’m the selfish one, for suggesting we should be together.”

  Mari closed her eyes and felt tears skitter down her cheek. The wind increased and tossed the trees behind them. The waves hitting the sand beach in the distance sounded lonely. She pushed her blowing hair off her damp face.

  “I don’t think that anymore. You’re not selfish. You’re strong. Stronger than I am. You said you would accept my decision after we returned from Chicago.” She swallowed convulsively. “Please understand. I’m not strong enough to follow you this time around.”

  She turned away from the lake and paused. “Ryan and I booked flights back home. We leave tomorrow. I can finish what remains to be done for The Family Center from there. I’ll go inside now and tie up a few loose ends. Ryan can pick me up here later.” She lowered her head, praying for strength to continue. “There’s…there’s something I’ll need to speak with you about, but…perhaps it’d be best if it waited until I was in San Francisco.”

  She glanced up at him. This was by far the hardest thing she’d ever done. Her entire body hurt as if every cell protested at the idea of leaving him. She touched her stomach in an instinctive protective gesture. This life was the one that had decided her, in the end. She needed to protect her child from the pain and heartache of their past. Wasn’t fate screaming loud and clear that they weren’t meant to be together? How many more people would be hurt if they tried?

  “Good-bye,” she said quietly.

  He said nothing, but she felt his gaze on her as she walked back through the trees alone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Six weeks later, Ryan and Mari paused by the front door of her condominium. She knew what her brother was going to say before he said it.

  “You’re not yourself, Mari. I’m worried about you.”

  “I’m fine. You were at the doctor’s appointment with me two days ago. You heard it yourself. I couldn’t be healthier and neither could the baby.”

  Ryan looked doubtful. She knew he’d been referring to her spirits, not her physical well-being. Before he could say anything else, she kissed him farewell on the jaw.

  “I’ll talk to you soon?”

  Ryan opened his mouth and then closed it again. “Yeah. Okay. Call me if you need me,” he said with a pointed glance before he walked out the door.

  Ever since she’d broken the news to Ryan about her pregnancy two weeks ago, he was constantly dropping by and checking her pantry to see if she had enough food, or lecturing her about little things, like when he noticed she’d used a small ladder to change a lightbulb.

  She sighed and picked up the bag of items he’d dropped off and carried them to her dining room. Ryan meant well. He was as hyperaware as she was that her baby’s father wasn’t around to look out for her. When she’d told him who the father was, it had not been a comfortable moment.

  Since then, neither of them had mentioned Marc’s name out loud.

  She still hadn’t called Marc to break the news. It just seemed too overwhelming. Insurmountable, in fact. She couldn’t seem to build up the energy required to tell Marc they were going to have a baby, if not a future, together.

  She set the bag of items on her dining room table with a thud, purposefully trying to scatter her thoughts of Marc. She kept waiting for the pain to fade, but after being in San Francisco for six weeks now, it still hurt to think of him…to recall his face as they stood together on Silver Dune.

  She’d kept herself busy with her symphony work and making plans for the baby’s nursery. She’d turned over much of the day-to-day preparations for The Family Center to Allison Trainor, Eric Reyes and Colleen. Constantly conversing with the Harbor Town residents— especially Colleen—had made her too depressed. She’d needed to cut back on her interactions for basic survival’s sake.

  Of course limiting her communications with Eric or Colleen hadn’t stopped her from waking up in the middle of the night in a state of panic, feeling as if she’d left something crucia
l behind. The dreams varied, but the experience of waking in a cold sweat, anxiety clawing at her throat was the same. That, and the inevitable tears that followed.

  The experience was very similar to what had occurred when she’d been uprooted and moved to San Francisco fifteen years ago.

  It was so hard to keep reminding herself she was doing the right thing when it felt so wrong.

  Mari opened the green garbage bag on the table and withdrew a smaller, sealed bag filled with photos. She took out a black-and-white one and smiled at the handsome couple posing for their wedding picture.

  “That’s your grandma and grandpa,” Mari whispered, her hand on her belly.

  She definitely possessed a small baby bump now, something that was only identifiable to Mari and a few people who were in the know. She’d taken to talking to the baby, much to her own amusement.

  “They would have spoiled you rotten, especially my dad,” she told the baby.

  She reached into the plastic bag and pulled out a black yearbook. All of the items had come from the Harbor Town basement. The house had sold three weeks ago. Ryan had brought back the remaining family items when he returned to San Francisco. He’d just recently divided them up, however, and brought Mari’s share to her condominium tonight. Or at least that’s the reason he’d given for dropping by on a Friday night at eight o’clock. Mari knew it really was just an excuse for checking up on her.

  Who knew her big, bad, fighter pilot brother could be such a mother hen?

  Mari checked the year on the book and saw that it was her own yearbook from her senior year. She’d been seventeen years old, filled with hope and head over heels in love with Marc. It’d been torture for her to be separated from him during the fall, winter and spring, although he would drive up to Dearborn occasionally. His visits had always been short, though, given her parents’ disapproval of their relationship.

  She opened up the yearbook, smiling wistfully when she recognized youthful, long-forgotten faces.

  It was cruel, the way time fell through your grasping fingers.