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Huntington Family Series

Page 113

by Rachel Ann Nunes


  Willard chuckled in the dark. “If you can talk her into it, you mean. Well, be careful, little brother, we Oakmans don’t seem to have much luck with our women.”

  Ryan felt a shiver of unease work its way up his back. What did it mean? Surely it had nothing to do with him and Kerrianne.

  “Good night, Willard.” With that he stumbled down the hall to find his bed.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Nearly three weeks after Thanksgiving, Kerrianne was sitting in the middle of her greenhouse on the dirt floor. The day was gray and dark though it wasn’t yet four o’clock. The single bulb in the greenhouse did little to cut through the gloom both in the air and in her heart.

  Kerrianne surveyed her tiny kingdom. She and Ryan had built wide shelves on one side of the greenhouse. These were covered with herbs—basil, parsley, dill, and thyme. In front of the shelf was a row of peas. Next to these, miniature lettuce, cucumber, and broccoli plants were peeking out in preparation to stretch toward the sun. At the far end she’d planted strawberries and artichokes. She was learning to make the best use of the space in her greenhouse, and part of each day she spent working in the soil. Though snow filled the yard, inside she was warm and her plants flourished. She didn’t miss spring and long for the winter to end as she normally did. She felt at peace.

  Except for today. This day would always be different.

  Tears trickled down Kerrianne’s face and fell to the dirt as she clutched her knees to her chest. These past weeks of dating Ryan had been the best she could remember for . . . well, forever. She and Ryan had laughed and danced and gardened and cooked together. He had taken her skiing, which she’d never done before but loved. This week Ria had begun coming to her house after school instead of Susan’s in an unspoken agreement of how serious their relationship was becoming. There had even been a few more heart-racing kisses, shared out of sight of the children.

  Yet when she’d woken up today and realized what day it was, she’d felt guilty and sad and mad and unworthy.

  Another tear dripped and soaked into the dirt.

  What was she doing dating Ryan?

  The answer might have been clearer if her marriage had ended in divorce, but she and Adam had been in love. She’d promised to love him forever, not until death, but now the feelings she had for Ryan rivaled what she’d felt for Adam.

  She hiccupped, and another tear wobbled down her chin.

  “I thought I’d find you here.”

  She looked up, unsurprised to find Ryan towering over her. She’d tried to hold on until he’d come for his children, but when Ria and Misty had once again argued, Kerrianne had escaped from the house to find peace. But here, alone among her plants, thoughts of Adam assaulted her. More than anything, she needed to be alone to get this day over with, to maybe get Adam out of her system—or at least the guilt of wanting to go on without him. If only she could find a way to tell Ryan to leave without hurting his feelings.

  She wiped at her face and swallowed her tears. She didn’t like him seeing her this way.

  “I know,” he said, crouching next to her. “It’s a hard day.”

  “People don’t know what it’s like.” She hiccupped again, but this time no tear fell. “They’re shocked to learn that we mark death dates just as they mark birthdays or anniversaries.”

  He settled onto the earth. There was only a narrow path without plants, but he was careful not to damage the new growth. “Tomorrow,” he said. “Things will be better tomorrow.”

  “Better, maybe, but not all better.” She met his gaze. “Even when Adam died, I didn’t know the grief would own me forever. I learned that later.”

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t own us, not really. It takes over for a while, but eventually it’s only a part of who we are. That’s life.”

  He was right. There were days now when Adam didn’t enter her thoughts. “I was so angry with myself the first time I went a few hours without thinking about him,” she said, dropping her gaze to the rich soil that she’d mixed with mulch from a bag. “And now, with you . . .”

  He gave a dry laugh. “I know what you mean. Sometimes you can almost believe none of it ever happened, and then bang! it hits you—hard. Like today.”

  “It’s been four years,” Kerrianne said. “Getting to know some of the other young widows—well, many of them find new relationships really soon. What’s wrong with me that it’s taken so long? Why does it still hurt so bad?” She looked at him again. “How did you . . . ? I mean, you dated right away. I don’t understand how.” The knowledge continued to eat at her. Did men love their wives less? Or did they simply need companionship more than a woman did? If the situation had been reversed, would Adam have already met someone new? She felt almost certain he would have.

  “Laurie was sick for two years,” he said. “We had time to come to terms with what was going to happen. She made me promise to go on with my life.” Tears gathered in his eyes and threatened to fall. “I had to separate myself emotionally long before she died, not in any big way, but kind of like putting your heart in a little box, locked out of the way so it wouldn’t hurt so much when the end finally came.”

  “Did it work?”

  He shrugged. “Didn’t seem like it at the time, but I think it helped me recover faster. She was in a lot of pain, so there was some sense of relief when she didn’t have to keep suffering.”

  “Maybe if I’d been able to say good-bye, it wouldn’t have taken me so long to . . .”

  “To live again?” Hope had replaced the tears in his eyes.

  “I don’t know, Ryan. Something’s still holding me back. I’ve always felt Adam so close. Like he’s been there these past years watching over us and cheering me on. I could talk to him and kind of feel him answer. It’s only been about the last six months when he’s suddenly not around anymore.” Her voice shook, and she felt a little silly talking about it, but Ryan nodded for her to continue. “It’s like he’s found something more interesting to do, and we no longer matter.”

  “That can’t be it. No one could ever forget you.”

  She smiled but was sure it looked more like a grimace. “Then maybe I’m forgetting him. That makes me feel like I’ve betrayed the promises I made to him when we got married.” There, it was out in the open now. “But here you are, and I don’t want to send you away.” She was crying again in earnest. “I wish . . . I wish . . .”

  “Shhhh.” He put a finger on her lips. “It’s okay. Look, I know you want to be alone, but I brought you something.”

  He picked up a grocery bag he’d set behind him. “I know you like chocolate. I wasn’t sure what kind.” The bag held ten kinds of chocolate bars and a sizeable chunk of semisweet baking chocolate.

  Exactly what she needed. Kerrianne took the semisweet baking chocolate and handed back the rest. “Thank you,” she muttered with a hearty sniff.

  “Should I take the kids for a while? There’s always McDonald’s and ice cream.”

  Kerrianne nodded. “Okay.”

  He kissed his finger and set it briefly against her lips. “We’ll be back soon.”

  Kerrianne was glad he had not tried to hold her. Today was Adam’s day. “Take the van.”

  “I know where the keys are.”

  Kerrianne watched him go, waiting for the tears. But strangely, they would no longer come. After a while she managed to work up a few more drops and a stray sob or two, but it just wasn’t the same. Ryan had somehow stopped her crying—and she wasn’t all that unhappy about it. She gave in and opened the chocolate. If Adam could busy himself with the harp, she could certainly do the same with chocolate.

  * * *

  When Ryan entered Kerrianne’s house, Ria and Misty were having another shouting match, this time in the kitchen. He stifled a sigh. Ria loved coming here after school despite her differences with Misty, but something had to be done about the girls’ relationship or he’d never win Kerrianne over. He knew how much their continued animosity worried her.
That was one of the reasons she’d asked to have Ria and Tiger come here in the first place, hoping that daily proximity would help.

  He passed the boys, who were engrossed in a car game in the family room.

  “Why do you hate me so much!” Ria was yelling at Misty. “What did I ever do to you?”

  “You told everybody they were kissing. Kissing!”

  “They were. I saw them.”

  “My mom shouldn’t kiss anyone but my dad!”

  “Your dad’s dead!”

  “So, he’s still my dad, and you’re trying to steal my mom, just ’cause yours is dead.”

  “I am not! I only want to . . . I want to . . . You don’t understand what it’s like!” Ria was sobbing now and Ryan was ready to barrel into the kitchen to save her, but something stopped him in the hall.

  “I don’t know what to wear,” Ria continued. “I don’t know how to do my hair. I don’t know how to cook, I can’t fix my clothes when they have rips, and there’s no one to do those things, not even my dad because he can’t do everything either. We don’t know anything unless it’s baseball or basketball or soccer. The kids at school laugh at me. They say I’m a boy, and some say I don’t take a bath or comb my hair, even when I do. And sometimes I miss my mom so much, and I think that if I could just learn some things—girl things, I wouldn’t miss her so bad. I wouldn’t feel this big hole in my chest.”

  Tears came to Ryan’s eyes. He had no idea Ria was feeling so insecure. How could he have let his preoccupation with his own life drown out his daughter’s suffering? The changes in his daughter had been quite obvious.

  There was a long silence, and then Misty spoke. “I don’t hate you, Ria. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been so mean. I just feel so mad and sad when you play with the boys and talk to my mom. It’s like you’re me, or something, taking my place. And then your dad—well, my dad used to play basketball outside with us. He was really bad.” Misty gave a strangled laugh. “But he tried. Now the boys like your dad so much they’ve forgotten all about my dad. They don’t even remember him at all. I was his special girl. Me. I was special, like you are to your dad. Now all I have is my mom. I don’t hate you. I just want everything back the way it was. I want my mom and my dad.”

  Again there was a silence. “My dad’s happier when he’s with your mom.” Ria’s voice came more steadily now, and Ryan felt himself relax slightly.

  “My mom laughs more,” Misty admitted.

  “Don’t you want your mom to laugh?”

  “I guess.” Misty’s reply was almost a whisper too soft to hear.

  “I’m sorry for what I said at school. I haven’t said it anymore. I think the kids have probably forgotten about it.”

  “They haven’t.”

  “Well, we’ll tell them to mind their own business.”

  “I guess we can try.” Misty paused and then continued with more enthusiasm. “Hey, my mom knows how to cook really good and sew, too. She could teach you some stuff, I guess. Since you’re coming here after school anyway.”

  “She makes great cookies.”

  “Let’s ask her to teach us how.”

  “Okay, where is she?”

  “We can’t ask her today.”

  “Why not?”

  Ryan thought now was the time to interrupt before they got on the subject of Adam’s death. He knew Misty was aware of today’s significance.

  “Hey, girls!” He sailed into the kitchen, smiling. He looked at Misty. “Your mom’s going to be out in the greenhouse for a while, and I asked if I could take you guys out for hamburgers.”

  “Yeah!” Ria looked at Misty. “That’ll be fun, right?” Hope emanated from her in waves.

  “Maybe another time,” Misty said kindly. “I don’t really feel like it right now.” She stepped past Ryan, giving him a sullen glare. “You should know that I can’t eat hamburgers today,” she told him.

  Ryan followed her to the base of the stairs. “It’s okay to smile and be happy, Misty. Your father would want you to.”

  She whirled on him, venom arcing from her blue eyes. “How do you know what my father would like? You never knew him!” She stomped up the stairs.

  Ryan didn’t back down. “Because,” he yelled after her, “I’m a father, and I know how I feel about my daughter. I’d want her to be happy, I’d want her to eat hamburgers, and I’d want her to play ball with another man if it made her happy. I’d want her to feel like it was okay to love another father.”

  Misty froze at the top of the staircase. Then her shoulders started shaking. Without looking around, she turned into her room.

  Ryan raked his hand through his hair, his fingers tangling in the slightly longer curls in the back. Had he gone about it the wrong way? First Kerrianne and now Misty. This was turning out to be a pretty rotten day. At least he had Ria and the boys. But he’d told Kerrianne he’d take them all. He snapped his fingers. Maxine. Maybe she can zip over. She knew what day it was and only yesterday had hinted that she planned to be around in case Kerrianne needed her. We both need you, Maxine.

  He found Maxine’s number, and to his relief she was more than willing to watch Misty. “I went over once this morning and was on my way again when I saw your truck out front.”

  While he waited for Maxine, Ryan helped the boys dress in their coats and snow boots. To his surprise, Ria made no move to join them. “I’m staying with Misty,” she announced and ran upstairs. Moments later, he heard a door slam.

  Ryan blinked. What had just happened? He’d hoped to gain Misty, but had he instead lost Ria. No, he thought. This is good. They need to bond. It’s a first step. At least he hoped. He didn’t need Ria to start hating him, too. She already acted strange enough for three nine-year-olds.

  Maxine arrived none too soon. He briefly explained the situation and then wished her good luck. “You’re probably going to need it.”

  “No, I won’t,” Maxine said, removing her thick cream-color coat and matching boots. From a sack she pulled out fluffy slippers and let them drop to the floor. “I brought candy.”

  * * *

  “Do you like sleeping on the floor?” Benjamin asked Ryan as they walked out of McDonald’s. It was still too early to head back to Kerrianne’s, though that was where his heart wanted to be, so he figured he’d better take them to his place for an hour or so. He had video games he could play with them there.

  “No, I’m too old for that,” he said. “Unless I’m camping.”

  “Oh.” Benjamin sounded disappointed.

  Tiger looked at him wide-eyed. “But you could, right, Dad?”

  Ryan suddenly understood that this conversation needed more attention than he was giving it. “I guess. If the situation called for it. Why?”

  The boys whispered and nudged each other. Benjamin finally looked up. “I sometimes go into my mom’s bed at night when I have a bad dream, and one time she said that even if she got married again, I still wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor. So wouldn’t that mean the other dad would have to?”

  Ryan nearly laughed, but Benjamin’s eyes were too somber to give in to the impulse. Strangely, he felt another presence with him, one he could not see. Was it the boy’s father? All at once his chest felt tight with emotion. I accept, Adam, he thought. If I’m allowed, I’ll gladly accept the responsibility.

  “Benjamin,” he said, leaning over to look into the child’s face, “if I were ever lucky enough to marry your mother, I promise there would be room in that bed for all of us. Nobody would have to sleep on the floor.”

  Caleb and Tiger giggled. “I told you,” Tiger said. “I always go in with Dad when I’m scared.”

  Benjamin smiled, and when Ryan offered his hand, the boy put his small one inside. The feeling that he wasn’t acting alone persisted. He knew then that if Kerrianne would have him, he would spend the rest of his life being the best father he could to her children. He would be firm with discipline no matter how much the effort, he would be kind and always remember
to give them an increase of love, and he would play with them every day so they would be glad he was there. He would do this not only for them and for himself, but because he’d promised their father, who had given him this trust.

  Of course, he still had to convince Kerrianne. Much as he hated to admit it, Adam was coming between them much more than Ryan expected. He’d heard that it was hard to have a relationship with a widow who’d been happily married, but only now did he understand why. If Adam had been a jerk, maybe Kerrianne wouldn’t feel so connected to him. Maybe she wouldn’t compare them so much with equally positive results. Maybe she wouldn’t still wish that Adam was alive.

  The drive home went quickly, and with how most of the day had gone, he wasn’t surprised to see his mother’s white sedan waiting in his driveway, looking faded and gray in the darkening night. He parked Kerrianne’s van out front, glad the boys had boots on because they’d have to cross the snow-filled yard.

  “Who’s that, Dad?” Tiger asked.

  “It’s Grandma. Unless your uncle borrowed her car.” At this thought, Ryan immediately felt better. His brother had come to see him three times in the past weeks, and their relationship was growing. Willard was still a spoiled, selfish man, but he was trying to break that mold. Trials had a way of doing that to people. Maybe, just maybe, Willard might have some advice to help him win Kerrianne. Maybe he knew how to compete with the memory of a perfect husband.

  Yet it was Ryan’s mother who stepped from the car. Just my luck, Ryan thought, though he did feel surprisingly happy to see her. He loved his mother, especially when she wasn’t acting as his father’s pawn or trying to match him up with a suitable girl.

  “Mother,” he said, bending to give her a kiss. “I hope you haven’t been here long. It’s cold.”

  “I had the heat on.”

  “Well, come inside. Boys, leave your boots at the back door, okay?”

  “Can’t we play in the backyard for a while?” Caleb asked.

  “Yeah!” the other two chorused.

 

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