Fireside

by Susan Wiggs

  “She was planning to come,” Daisy said, “but she went to see her sister Jenny at the hospital in Kingston. Jenny and Rourke had a little girl last night.”

  They raised a toast to the new arrival, then Kim turned expectantly to Daisy’s date. She felt a peculiar affinity for him—a redhead like her. He had laughing eyes, and he regarded Daisy with unabashed adoration.

  “This is Logan O’Donnell,” Daisy said. “Charlie’s dad.”

  Oh. Maybe, then, they weren’t a couple at all. That was pretty clear from Daisy’s tone and choice of words. And even clearer from the not-quite-ineffable sadness that passed between them. It must be incredibly hard, sharing a child while leading separate lives. For the first time, Kim came close to understanding why AJ’s mother had kept him away from Bo.

  “I should have known by the red hair,” she said. “You have a beautiful little boy.” Kim wasn’t exaggerating. She’d seen Charlie a few times while meeting with Daisy about the photo shoot. Charlie was a gorgeous baby, and he was almost unbearably sweet, the kind of child that made women Kim’s age yearn for one of her own. She indicated the banner behind the dais. “Is O’Donnell Industries your company?” she asked.

  “My father’s.” He started to go on, but an announcement blared from amplifiers onstage.

  “Ladies and gentlemen. Here’s the next entry in the battle of the bands—Avalon’s own home-grown musical group, Inner Child.”

  The crowd erupted as the lights came up. The appearance of the band onstage banished the last of Kim’s misgivings about the evening. She must have let her anticipation show, because her mother gave her a gentle push toward the front of the room.

  “Go ahead,” she said in Kim’s ear. “I know you’ve been looking forward to hearing them.”

  Kim nodded and moved toward the stage. She greeted people along the way, surprised to realize so many faces were now familiar to her. She had found something unexpected here in this place—a sense of community. A feeling of caring pervaded the gathering. The people here genuinely wished each other well. She found Sophie Bellamy-Shepherd there, beaming proudly up at Noah, the band’s drummer.

  “My first time to hear them perform as a group,” Kim said to Sophie.

  “I think you’ll be impressed.”

  AJ was already in the front of the hall, standing with a group of kids below the edge of the raised stage. Kim and Sophie watched them as the group came out, tuning up and doing a few quick riffs. “How’s he doing?” Sophie asked.

  “He’s holding a lot in,” Kim said. Emotion welled in her chest as she watched AJ. At the moment, his face shone with anticipation, his gaze riveted on Bo. “He seems okay, but he needs his mother, Sophie. There’s no denying it. It’s like the light inside him gets dimmer every day, no matter how hard Bo tries to keep his spirits up. This is fun for him, but tomorrow, he’ll wake up and miss his mother more than ever.”

  “His mother must be heartbroken, too,” Sophie said. “Before moving to Avalon, I lived apart from my kids, and it was the hardest thing I ever did. I wish I could say this will all be resolved right away, but the system moves so slowly, it’s just excruciating. The emergency writ of appeal is bogged down in court, though, which makes me wonder which part of ‘emergency’ they don’t understand.”

  Lately, Kim had studied the situation, and now understood what a quagmire the immigration system was in. It was one of those things she’d never thought about much, until now. Until it touched the life of a boy she cared about. “In the past, I’ve had clients dealing with immigration issues,” she said. “Not to sound like a skeptic, but professional athletes seem to have an easier time with the INS than working people.”

  “Yes, it’s kind of hard not to notice that.”

  “I did have one client who came close to being deported, a baseball player from the Dominican Republic. Pico—I haven’t thought about him in years.”

  “What happened to him?” Sophie asked.

  “I worked with him when I was an intern with my last firm. Raul de Gallo—he was on the Dodgers’ farm-league team. His teammates nicknamed him Pico de Gallo, due to his height. He showed a lot of promise, but the immigration suit was such a distraction that it affected his game. Then, just before he was about to be deported, the decision was reversed.”

  “Do you recall why?”

  “Something about his mother, I think. Turns out she was born in the U.S. Virgin Islands, which made her eligible for naturalization. That’s how I remember it, anyway.”

  “We’ve got someone looking into Yolanda Martinez’s family background. The records are a whole new nightmare.”

  “I won’t give up hope,” Kim said.

  “They’re about to start.” Sophie gestured toward the stage.

  Kim found herself as riveted as AJ appeared to be. The unlikely group was made up of Bo on bass, Noah on drums, a local cop named Rayburn Tolley on keyboards, and the lead singer and guitar player, Eddie Haven. Bo claimed Eddie was the true musician among them, and he proved it with a crisp delivery of Green Day’s “When I Come Around.”

  The biggest surprise was Bo Crutcher. He looked like a natural in tattered jeans, a black T-shirt and a bandanna around his head. His big hands held the bass with assuredness, and his face was a picture of concentration as he played. She’d been thinking a lot about those hands lately—the way they felt when he touched her, their irresistible combination of strength and tenderness. She’d been writing about those hands, too, in her press materials for him. A pitcher’s hands were precision instruments, part of the fine alchemy of the pitch, with an instinctive way of holding the ball, fingers caressing the curving seams into perfect position, breaking with it at exactly the right time, letting go at the moment of greatest power. Now she watched his fingers on the strings of the bass with the same delicacy.

  Kim found herself beaming at him, particularly when AJ and some of his friends went wild, dancing to the music.

  At the end of the set, she leaned over to Sophie during the applause. “I wasn’t sure what to expect. And you’re right. I’m pleasantly surprised.”

  Sophie nodded. “They probably won’t win any Grammy awards, but they’re fun to watch.”

  The group’s next number was a slow, beautiful song that was so romantic, she felt an ache in her throat. “What’s this song?” she asked Sophie. “It’s amazing.”

  “Something original by Eddie,” she said. “Good, isn’t he?”

  “Uh-huh.” Yet her attention strayed from the light-haired guitar player to Bo, whose face was intense with concentration, not unlike his expression when he threw a pitch.

  They finished the set and Sophie went to find Noah. Kim felt a momentary twinge of envy, watching Noah’s affectionate hug. Although hardly in the market for a husband, she wished she had someone to go to at the odd moment, just like that. To know that no matter where you were in a crowd, there was always someone you could seek out and be comfortable with.

  Her mother came up beside her and squeezed her hand. “I’m seeing your heart in your eyes.”

  “You’re not.” Then, with a rueful smile, Kim admitted, “Maybe you are. I’m thinking it has something to do with an athlete’s intense concentration, whether he’s pitching a baseball or playing music. Why is that so hard for me to resist?”

  “I’m thinking it has something to do with Bo Crutcher, specifically,” her mother declared.

  “If so, I’m not doing anything about it. The irony of my line of work is that doing a good job with a client means he moves on. His success dealing with the media means he doesn’t need me anymore, and that’s the way it’s supposed to work. The mistake I made with Lloyd Johnson was holding on. I should have let go. I won’t be making that mistake again.”

  “That only works if your relationship is strictly professional. If it’s personal, then this is only the beginning.”

 
“Beginning of what?” asked Dino. “Did you tell her about us?”

  Penelope gasped. “No, but I suppose you just did.”

  Kim regarded them both with dawning understanding. “Mom?”

  Her mother’s eyes shone. “Dino asked me to marry him.”

  “And she said yes,” he added, slipping his arm around her waist.

  Kim’s eyes teared up. “Oh, Mom. Sorry, I need a minute. I mean, I knew the two of you... Sorry,” she said again. “It’s not every day a person learns her mother is getting married.”

  “I was planning to tell you tonight. I know it seems sudden, but I’m very, very sure of this, and if I’ve learned anything, it’s that life is short and putting off love makes no sense at all.”

  Kim looked from her mom to Dino and back again. Love and happiness surrounded them like an aura. The flickering colored lights in the hall illuminated her mother’s face, and Kim saw someone who was more than her mother—a beautiful woman, flushed with excitement. Lit by love.

  Without warning, she burst into tears and embraced them both. “This is the best news. I’m so happy for you both.”

  “Then dry your eyes and let’s dance,” Dino insisted.

  They headed off to dance to the next band’s rendition of Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water.” Up near the stage, she spotted Bo and AJ together. She noticed something new in the way the boy regarded Bo, a deeper admiration and affection than she’d seen before. Watching the two of them, she felt a fresh wave of emotion. How far they had come, in such a short time. Right before her eyes, the two of them had turned from strangers to father and son, and it was the sweetest of miracles. Yes, she could tell herself she was simply feeling tender over the news about her mother, but it was more than that.

  Without meaning to—in fact, resisting all the way—she’d fallen in love with them both. With Bo, who was working so hard to do right by his son, and with AJ, still lost and missing his mother, even as he tried to fit into a strange new world. She hadn’t gone looking for this but couldn’t escape it, a feeling in the pit of her stomach, both happy and sad. Bo Crutcher had the power to break her heart, yet for the first time in her life, she didn’t worry about that. She just wanted to be with him in the worst way, and the fallout didn’t scare her.

  As if he felt her watching him, Bo looked up and their gazes met. Was her heart still in her eyes? Could he see that? He came over to her and said, “AJ’s been invited to sleep over at his friend’s house. I said it was okay.”

  “I assume you know the friend, right? And his family?”

  “Kid named Tad Lehigh. I know his aunt Maureen, who’s the town librarian. And I just talked to his mother, and they’ve already left. I wrote down their phone number.” His hand caught hers, fingers caressing the inside of her wrist. The music changed to a not-terrible rendition of Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing.” He leaned down to speak into her ear, and she felt as though there was no one else in the room—in the world—but him. “So how about a dance?”

  It wasn’t a question, not really. And it wasn’t really dancing, either. He moved with the grace of a natural athlete, though, and kept hold of her hands, pulling her up against him. That’s it, she thought. I’m a goner.

  She lifted herself up on tiptoe and said, “My mother’s marrying Dino,” she said. “I just found out.”

  “That’s great,” he said easily. “They’re terrific together.”

  She watched her mother with Dino, who twirled her as if they were dancing on a cruise ship. “It’s a bit surreal, seeing my own mother fall in love.”

  “Nah, it’s the real thing. Look at those two. Dino’s one of the finest men I’ve ever known. Dance closer,” he added, giving her no choice as he pressed her against him.

  The feeling in the pit of her stomach intensified. “I liked your band’s performance,” she said. “You guys are not half bad.”

  “Meaning we’re more than half good?”

  “Exactly.” She smiled, feeling a wave of affection. “Why the bass guitar?”

  “My older brother brought one home when I was a kid. Learned to play by ear, listening to old CDs.”

  “You have a good ear, then.” She lifted her arms, laced her fingers behind his neck.

  “Maybe. Eddie’s the one, though. Eddie Haven’s guitar playing can elevate anything. If we win, it’ll be because of him.” Bo smiled down at her. “At the moment, I feel like I already won something.”

  “You have,” she said. They danced in each other’s arms, and it came to her again, the feeling of the world falling away. They were in a room full of people, and it felt like they were all alone.

  “Yeah? You look happy tonight,” he remarked, his breath warm in her ear.

  “I am happy tonight.”

  “I could make you happier.”

  She shivered, pressed herself closer. “I’ll just bet you could, Bo Crutcher.”

  “And you’d be right,” he said, and pulled her toward the exit.

  * * *

  They didn’t even wait to see if his band won the battle, raising a nice sum for charity. She put her common sense in Park and rode home with him in a car that felt more like California than the Catskills. The dark and empty house welcomed them with a blast of heat from the furnace. At the bottom of the steps, he swept her up in his arms.

  “Hey,” she protested.

  “I’ve always wanted to do this.”

  “You’ll hurt yourself.”

  “Not a chance,” he said. “What hurts is putting this off any longer.” He made a slow and steady climb to her room on the second floor. Keeping his arms around her, he set her down, and they both took off their coats. “I promise I’ll stay awake this time.” Then he bent and kissed her, with a lingering heat she felt all the way to her toes. He pressed her up against the wall and kissed her again.

  Suddenly it was all very real to her, what she was feeling, what they were doing, what they were about to do. Second thoughts crowded into her head. She was afraid, vulnerable. A memory of Lloyd flickered to life, but she snuffed it out. Then she banished it completely by looking into Bo’s eyes and seeing nothing there but tenderness. Still...she pushed her fists to his chest and gave a shove, but somehow, it came off as an invitation, not an objection. He took her wrists and gently held them against the wall above her head, bending to kiss her a third time. She knew if she raised a sincere objection, he’d let go. But she didn’t want him to let go. The things she’d felt at the fire hall only grew stronger with each passing moment.

  When he lifted his mouth from hers, she looked up at him and said, “This isn’t supposed to happen.”

  “Being my girlfriend is not the end of the world.”

  “Perhaps not. But it’s going to end badly and people are going to get hurt. Not just any people, you and me. Unless we stop it right here, right now.”

  “Not going to happen. Come on, if being with me is the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, then you’re one lucky lady.”

  “I’m not saying it’s the worst thing. When it’s over—well, that might be the worst thing.”

  “Then we’d better make sure it doesn’t end.”

  Everything was so simple for this man. So simple and so possible. She wished she had a little of his optimism. “How are we going to do that?”

  “We can start by making love tonight. Right now.”

  His hand slipped down, found the hem of her dress and moved slowly upward, teasing and caressing. Still kissing her again, he did something simultaneously with his hand and tongue that completely shut down her brain. He lifted his mouth from hers, and she had one more chance to protest, but she didn’t. She couldn’t, because he whispered a suggestion in her ear that set a torch to her blood. Objections meant nothing. So what if this guy was every bad decision she’d ever made, personified? He had magic hands, and t
he things he whispered to her made her desperate.

  “All right,” she said, tipping back her head while he kissed her throat. She was filled with the giddy relief of surrender. And it was relief, because until this moment, she hadn’t known whether or not she still knew how to trust a man. “All right...” She uttered no other coherent words for the rest of the night.

  He slid her dress to the floor and she stepped out of her shoes. Impatient with lust, she peeled off his shirt and jeans, and her fingers raced over him, tracing his smooth skin and hard muscles, drawing him against her. She was mesmerized by everything about him—his amazing physique and the way he tasted, the sound of his breathing and the sigh of her name on his lips. They sank onto the bed, their limbs tangling. There were a thousand more kisses, and laughter between the gasps and sighs of pleasure, and Kim let herself get lost in him, in a place that felt safe and fulfilling, a place she never wanted to leave.

  She didn’t let herself think about what would happen afterward. Maybe one day the memories would be as sharp and painful as a physical ache, but right here, right now, she wanted it all, his kisses and his laughter and the long, heated hours in bed with him. Regrets might come later, but for now, he was everything she’d ever wanted.

  * * *

  Over the next few days, Kim somehow managed to stumble through work, but she lived for the night, when she could be alone with Bo, and they could explore the searing passion that only seemed to grow stronger each time they were together. After everyone in the house was asleep, he would come to her room, and the secret, dark hours belonged to them. Sexual satisfaction was one thing, but this was something more, a singular sensation of emotion she’d never felt before, not with this intensity, this certainty. One night, when the house was completely quiet, she lay with her head on his bare chest and listened to the beating of his heart, and a sense of utter clarity took hold. The feelings swept over her in a wave.

  “Hey now,” he said, no doubt feeling the damp heat of her tears. “What’s the matter?”