by Leigh Riker
“Natalie didn’t change her view about Little Darlings’ expansion, but other members of the commission did. The important thing is, work will start soon.” After Brig was gone. Molly wasn’t quite looking forward to the new building as much as she’d expected to.
In an expansive mood this morning, Ann said, “Pop, why don’t you ask Natalie to join us for dinner some night? Molly and I will cook.”
“Don’t you girls start matchmaking. She’d drag me into all of her committees if she could.”
“Worthwhile projects,” Molly said, remembering her talk with Brig one night. “Consider this, Pop. For Natalie, maybe they’re another escape from that big house she lives in alone.” She paused. “Like you.”
“I’m not alone. You’re here.”
Molly sighed. Overhead she heard footsteps on the spare room floor. Brig would be down soon. And out the door. After last night, maybe that was best.
She tried once more. “I had hoped the rummage sale might change your mind. Wasn’t it good to be around other people then?”
“If you mean Natalie Brewster, I’ll give you that. A man doesn’t mind being taken care of now and then.”
“Exactly. It’s not good, Pop, to stay indoors as much as you do. What would be the harm in picking out a few activities to keep you involved in the community? Like Bess and Joe Collier? Since you retired, you’ve spent way too much time on your own. Ann and I are at Little Darlings all day. Being busy yourself could be a good thing.”
“Winter isn’t my best time,” he said, his gaze not meeting hers. “Just what I need—to step outside, slip on the ice and break my hip on my way to some meeting. Then you’d have an invalid on your hands. Like Joe’s mother.”
“You’re in good shape. Mrs. Collier is getting better every day. And winter’s almost over.”
Ann was peering out the window again. “Natalie just looked this way. I almost feel sorry for her, Pop.”
He groaned. “No need to feel sorry for her, believe me.” But then, to Molly’s relief, he mulled that over. “Okay, so she does have some redeeming qualities. She did raise a lot of money with that rummage sale.”
Ann chimed in. “And Molly told me what a good time you had together when you watched the Cavs play—and babysat Laila. I’m sorry I missed seeing that.”
With a quick shake of his head, presumably at his daughters’ not-so-soft sell, he took a quick peek at the house across the street. “Maybe you’re both right, then, and she’s not that bad.”
Stunned, Molly and Ann exchanged silent high fives.
Neither of them dared to say anything more.
Pop shrugged into his coat. His mouth twitched with a smile he couldn’t suppress, and his eyes twinkled. Molly should have known he’d given in too easily.
“You girls think you’re so smart, pushing your dad at a woman he doesn’t seem to want. But for your information, I can make my own friends.” He paused, then said with a laugh, “I’d already planned to ask Natalie out. And you two can kindly close your mouths. They’re hanging open.”
After a long moment he ambled across the kitchen and through the dining room to the front door, leaving them still gaping after him.
“Guess I’d better head her off,” he said, his posture that of a doomed man, although Molly knew now that was mainly a pose. “I can teach her a thing or two about those peonies this spring. And she makes a mean cup of coffee,” he added. “We’ll see how it goes.”
As soon as the door closed behind him, Molly and Ann danced in place.
“He was tweaking us!” Molly said.
“I know, but I can’t believe it. For how long?”
Molly said, “I thought he just needed a little shove.”
“I guess not. As he said, he did this on his own.”
They sat at the table to drink their coffee, and after a few moments, Molly returned to their earlier topic.
“Now, let’s hear more about Jeff....”
“I think I love him,” Ann murmured without hesitation.
Molly got up to hug her.
And Ann said with a grin, “He and Ernie are quite a package deal.”
For the first time in a long while, Molly saw true happiness on her sister’s face and fresh hope for the future. Molly prayed that her own unhappiness this morning didn’t show and dampen Ann’s better mood.
Ann gave her a thoughtful look. “And you?”
“Me?” She shrugged but couldn’t hide the sadness inside after all. “You know. I’ll be okay. I’ve been there before—and don’t I sound like a real case?”
Ann gazed at her for another long moment. “He still makes your motor run, doesn’t he?” She went on without waiting for Molly’s answer. “Don’t even try to say no. I can see for myself. And I warned him not to do wrong by you again. Yet I saw that look in his eyes at the rummage sale. I see how he is with Laila.” She paused. “If I can change, then why not Brig? Jeff keeps telling me a lot of years have gone by. And he’s right.”
“Please don’t tell me to think about that. I have.”
“Maybe you should do something instead,” Ann said.
Molly glanced at the ceiling. They could both hear Brig now, crossing into the hall and starting down the stairs. What a morning this was turning out to be. First Ann. Then Pop. With luck, their isolated lifestyles would be changing for the better. That left only Molly. After Brig left, she would be the one alone.
“Maybe we’ve all been hiding out,” she said just as Brig hit the last step.
* * *
MOLLY COULDN’T BEAR THIS.
Tall and straight, he walked into the kitchen with the baby in the crook of one arm. His eyes showed a combination of emotions: unhappiness at leaving, she wanted to think. Believe it or not, I wish I didn’t have to go. Yet she could see that underlying excitement, the eagerness to get back into battle once more. Molly had seen that look the day he left eight years ago.
She wasn’t going to change him. As if after last night she needed another reminder of her own foolishness.
He passed Laila to her. Beside her, Ann bent to kiss the baby. Then to Molly’s surprise, she went up on her tiptoes to kiss Brig on the cheek.
“You’re all right, Brig. At least I’m leaning that way. You hurry with that mission of yours. Come back safe.” She paused. “Come back,” Ann said.
Molly’s eyes were already misting over, even when she knew how pointless tears would be.
“See you at the office, big sister,” Ann murmured, squeezing Molly’s shoulder before she headed out the back door, obviously intent upon leaving them alone. “I plan to enjoy these last few days of relative peace before the place is filled with dust and the whine of saws, the rat-a-tat-tat of nail guns.” At the door she looked back at Molly. “Remember what you just said.”
After that there was silence. Molly couldn’t seem to break it. She tried not to even look at Laila in her arms, as she had avoided doing on her first night in this house, but after a moment she couldn’t resist. This morning Laila looked especially adorable in a pink-and-white top, pink tights and little white baby shoes, her first pair, although she was months away from really needing them to walk. Brig had brushed her dark hair, somehow managing to keep her still enough to form a tiny ponytail wrapped with a pink-and-green ribbon.
Molly almost smiled at the vision of Brig playing hairdresser, wrestling with a minuscule elastic and a squirmy Laila at the same time. As if he sensed her thought, he did smile.
“It wasn’t easy,” he said, “but I wanted to take extra time with her this morning before we travel.”
At the word we, she flinched. She felt as if someone had jumped out of the bushes and punched her in the stomach.
“You’re taking her with you?” Molly could barely breathe. “What about the nanny yo
u were going to hire?”
Brig looked away. “Last night, after we talked, I realized what was bothering me. I can’t leave Laila with Patti this suddenly, trust her without really knowing her, even as good for the job as she seems.” He hesitated. “Then in the middle of the night I remembered one of the posts the team had sent while I was here. You know they love Laila—a bunch of tough guys who melt every time they see her—and, well, there it was right in front of me. ‘We would all adopt her, if we could.’”
“Oh,” Molly said, surprised that the word actually came out. Her throat had closed. “I see.” Yet she didn’t. Surely the group adopting Laila wasn’t an option.
Brig didn’t appear to hear the tightness in her voice or see the sorrow that must show on her face. But then, he wasn’t listening to her or looking at her.
“And I realized all over again that we’re a family in our own way. We don’t leave anyone behind. When someone gets wounded or...killed, like Sean, we take over to help his wife, his kids.” He couldn’t seem to meet Molly’s eyes. “I called base, and after some back and forth, I now have three offers—two from guys who had quit the team this year, the other from a wife whose husband will be going with me on the mission.”
Her heart rate was running wild. “That’s...wonderful, Brig.” No, it wasn’t. Not from Molly’s standpoint. He had found the solution for Laila, for now, and because Molly wouldn’t take the risk last night, both Laila and Brig would be leaving now. She should have known he’d come up with something beyond the baby staying next door close to Molly, who had all but rejected her last night.
“Wouldn’t you know?” he said. “Laila didn’t move a muscle while I dressed her. She just stared at me. She must sense we’re leaving.”
Molly couldn’t answer and Brig shifted. If he started one of those stiff speeches again, she would melt into a puddle on the floor.
“About the nanny,” he said. “That was clumsy of me. I didn’t know how to tell you, Molly.” He paused. “Well. Guess we’d better take off. Today’s our travel day and getting Laila settled before I report for duty tomorrow morning.”
Across the street Pop and Natalie had gone inside to share coffee, tea and conversation. The street looked empty—until Molly saw a cab roll up to the curb in front of the house, and her pulse lurched. Brig and Pop had returned his rental car yesterday. This was it.
Hadn’t she known since he turned up at her Valentine’s Day party that this would be the end of his surprise visit?
“Walk me out?” he said.
“Of course.” Aching in every part of her being, she followed him through the house. But at the door Molly balked. Hiding her face, she kissed Laila and gave her back to him, her throat constricting. “I’m sorry, Brig, but no. I can’t.”
“We’ll say goodbye here, then,” he said and laid a gentle hand, his strong warrior’s hand, against her cheek. As if she understood the moment, Laila stayed quiet in his arms, her dark gaze moving between them, searching. Molly yearned to touch her once more but didn’t dare. If she did, she wouldn’t be able to let go.
Goodbye. That one word sounded so final.
Instead of saying it, she touched Brig’s forearm and made her own little speech. She might not get another chance. “Brig, before you go. I need to say something.... That years ago when you left, I told myself not to remember any of the good times we’d had. I vowed to put you out of my life—because that’s what I thought you wanted.” She felt hard muscle under her hand. “But I won’t ever forget. And I want you to know...”
His voice was husky. “I’m forgiven?”
“You’re forgiven.” She gazed down at Laila. “I know it’s difficult right now, but you were right to take her after Sean died, to bring her here. To rescue her,” she added. “Because that’s really what you did. Maybe...that was your greatest, and best, mission.”
“Ah, Molly.” Brig glanced toward the curb and the waiting cab. She sensed the driver must be a moment away from tapping the horn with impatience.
Brig didn’t go on. Maybe there were no more words to say. Their oh-so-different lives would be lived again on opposite sides of the world, just as they had been for the past eight years.
She squared her shoulders. “If you don’t go, you’ll miss your flight. I’ll worry about you,” she murmured, “and...well, what Ann said.”
Come back.
But would he ever? Brig was a confirmed risk taker. He always had been and Molly was not, last night being only the newest proof of that. Like Brig with his elite team, she had made her choice, too—to stay here in her own small corner of the world.
For another moment, very much in the present and one she wanted desperately to avoid, Brig looked at Molly.
“This is hard,” he said. “Harder than ever.”
Brig gazed deeply into Molly’s eyes. He bent toward her, and she thought he would kiss her, but he straightened as if pulling himself together, as she was trying to do. Unable to speak, Molly leaned to kiss the baby once more but couldn’t say a word either to Laila or Brig. He said, “Let’s go, cupcake,” and started down the porch steps.
Molly stood there.
And watched him go.
Her world, she thought, had suddenly become as narrow as Pop’s.
* * *
SHE WAS STILL standing there, arms aching with emptiness, when Brig reached the front walk. Molly drank in every step he took, watched his strong back and his broad shoulders and the way he carried Laila effortlessly. At some earlier point he had put his duffel bag, her three suitcases and the baby’s car seat by the curb.
Molly clenched her hands. What would it be like to have to leave like this? To pack most of your belongings in one military-issue bag and jet off halfway around the world into unspeakable danger? To deprivation and hardship with no clean water or hot food or a soft bed to sleep in? To have your very life hang in the balance every day? To fear—because only a fool wouldn’t, that this time you might not come home again? To feel so utterly alone?
Lost in her own misery, she’d never considered that before. Not really.
Eight years ago, just like this, Brig had left her. He’d broken their engagement to follow his dream, and to become, yes, the man he was now.
How unfair she had been to blame him but not herself. To keep blaming him still this time for who he was then, instead of who he had become.
He loved Laila with all his heart. He had loved Sean and Zada, too. He grieved for them and had blamed himself. It was a heavy burden to carry.
Maybe years ago Brig had even felt as she did now, but she had simply stood there then, too, and, without fighting, let him leave. Did she face eight more years now, if not forever, alone and lonely?
Though Ann had seen it before she did, Molly had said the words.
Maybe we’ve all been hiding out.
Because Little Darlings was more than her means of earning a living—as much as Brig’s elite unit was more than a paycheck to him. The center was also her refuge. Like Molly’s cozy bedroom in Pop’s house filled with the remnants of her marriage to Andrew. His shirt hanging in the closet, for example—until Molly, after her visit to the Hyde Park house, had finally packed it away with her memories.
What if her careful existence wasn’t enough? And someday, even with the new expansion, Little Darlings wouldn’t be, either? Then what would she do? Molly’s restlessness wasn’t that new. And in this moment, she knew why.
Yes, Andrew was gone and she had made her peace with that loss, but there were other kinds of loss, too. Other kinds of love. New and old.
She and Ann and Pop had hidden from the world together. But Molly wasn’t doing her father any good by living with him, enabling him to keep to himself. And even Ann had her own apartment. Now her sister’s future looked bright with Jeff and Ernie. Pop might find some kind of h
appiness, too, or at least companionship, with Natalie. But what about Molly? The happiness she had wished for them was genuine. But wasn’t such happiness what Molly wanted for herself?
As Brig reached the middle of the walk, she heard Laila whimper. And in a flash, with Ann’s words in mind, Molly knew what to do.
The important thing is not to waste the time you have.
Brig’s grandmother Collier was a wise woman, Molly had thought during that hospital visit in Indiana, but she hadn’t really gotten the message then. For anyone, for everyone, safety was nothing but an illusion.
Molly would never know if her marriage might have survived. She couldn’t know with Brig, either. She had sent Andrew off that last morning, though, in anger, and she couldn’t do the same now, in sorrow, with Brig.
If the future held more loss, perhaps it also held joy and love. Life. And part of that was taking this first ever, and most important, risk. For Molly it was more than time.
“Brig!” she called. “Wait!”
And on that glad cry Molly took off running.
* * *
AS HE WALKED down the path to the waiting taxi, Brig’s steps dragged.
The past few minutes had been the hardest he’d ever known. Harder than when Sean had died in the bombing at the hospital with Zada. Harder than his decision to accept guardianship of Laila and bring her to the States without knowing how to even change a diaper.
If Molly hadn’t stepped in then...
But she had. She had.
The past weeks had turned him into someone else, someone better, he hoped. But what about now? And Molly. If only he had something else to offer her except long separations and uncertainty whether he would come back to her alive, in one piece, time after time.
Last night he’d almost begged her to take Laila—and Molly had imagined he was proposing again. She’d had that much faith in him, that much trust after what he’d done to her before.
Instead, because he hadn’t said the right words, Brig remembered the humiliation and embarrassment in her eyes. After all her losses, she needed security, not a battle-hardened soldier whose every day was filled with risk, who was now carrying a baby dressed in pink to a waiting cab. A baby who was beginning to squall—as if she, too, didn’t want to leave.