His mother smiled. “I prefer to think of it as God working out His purpose through us.”
Yeah, she would think that. “It would have ended, anyway. Between April and me.”
“Since you’d already predetermined the outcome, you mean?” When he tensed, she patted his arm and said, “I’ve watched you guys nurse a lot of heartbreaks over the years. Relationships don’t always work out, I get it. And sometimes, they shouldn’t. I get that, too. But I also know that when a breakup leaves both parties as unhappy as you and April seem to be, then something’s not right.”
“Ma—”
“Look, simply because Natalie left you high and dry doesn’t mean every woman will—”
“But April did leave.”
“And what did you do to stop her?”
“What makes you think there’s anything I could have done? Look, Lili’s going through all this crap about her mother, it just seemed best to call it off now. Before anyone got hurt.”
“Before you let yourself need her too much, you mean.”
His stomach clenched. “And you’re overstepping.”
“We’ve already established that. And unless you push me into the drink I’m going to continue to overstep because I love you. You deserve someone special in your life, sweetheart. You and Lili, both—”
“We’ve got you guys. We’re fine.”
“And you can’t keep leeching off of us forever, you know.”
Patrick jerked his head down so fast his neck popped. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“Actually, yes. I do. Because we’re safe, and we’re here, and it’s easy. And of course we’ll always be here for you and Lili. But honestly, Patrick—here this lovely, loving woman comes along, someone who clearly adores Lili and can put up with your chronic grumpiness, and you didn’t even think to fight for her? And don’t you shake your head at me, young man. I saw how you looked at April when you were over for dinner last week. More importantly, how she looked at you. And heaven knows I never saw Natalie look at you like that—”
“Ma. Please. Let it go, okay?”
He got maybe five, six seconds of peace before his mother withdrew her arm to rub his back. “You’re one of the bravest, most generous people I know, my love. But you’re also one of the most mule headed. And thank God for it, or there’d be a couple men who wouldn’t be alive right now. In fact, I can’t recall you ever backing down from a challenge, or giving up on something simply because there was a chance it wouldn’t work out.” She paused. “Or that you might get hurt. So how is this any different?”
Irritation heated his face. “How about, because someone else’s happiness is at stake here? Lili’s and April’s.”
“And your own?”
He looked away. “That’s not important.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, of course it is. Because Lili’s never going to heal until you do. What kind of example are you setting for her if you keep closing yourself off?”
Her cell phone buzzed. She dug it out of her coat pocket, extending it slightly to read the text. “Ah. Your father. Wondering where I am.” After texting him back, she slipped the phone into her pocket again and said, “You know, giving is all well and good, but the concept doesn’t work without someone to receive the blessing on the other end.” Palms up, she imitated a scale coming into balance. “Yin/yang and all that. Otherwise the giving goes to waste, doesn’t it?”
With that she pulled him down for a hug, then wove back through the crowd to find his father.
Thinking a triple dose of cod liver oil would have been preferable to that conversation, Patrick gave up his prime spot to another dad and his kids, then wandered back off the pier and toward the square, feeling adrift as he wended his way through the irritatingly jolly crowds. All of Main Street sparkled, ancient tinsel wreaths adorning the streetlamps like so many spunky old chorus girls brought out of retirement every year. Anchoring one corner of the square was his old parish church, that great-aunt in her conservative brown tweeds quietly reminding everyone what the fuss was really about. Should be, anyway. A weathered, life-size nativity scene graced the winter-withered lawn on one side of the church steps; above them, a warm glow beckoned from the open center doors, inviting passersby inside, even if only to peek at the “famous” stained-glass windows, a gift from some moneybags resident in the early 1900s.
It’d been years since he’d been inside any church, let alone this one, and he had no idea what led him to enter now. Nostalgia, perhaps. A yearning for that time Before, when everything had seemed so much simpler. Or perhaps it was the organ music—practice for midnight Mass, most likely.
Habit steered him to dip his finger in the font of holy water in the vestibule, to cross himself, to at least give a cursory nod toward the altar before slipping into a smooth, wooden pew near the back of the empty church. And indeed, he found the familiarity comforting, even if he was reminded far more of the shenanigans he and his siblings would get up to during Mass than any spiritual revelations he might have had. Inhaling the slightly musty, old church scent, he felt himself relax against the pew’s back—as much as he could, anyway—shutting his eyes and letting the music, and the solitude, wash over him.
“Patrick?”
Mildly annoyed at having his peace disturbed, he looked up to see April’s cousin Blythe, clearly as surprised to see him as he, her. He forced a smile. “Didn’t know you were Catholic.”
“I’m not. I was just walking back to my car and the music pulled me in.” She smiled “Where’s Lilianna?”
“With the family. Having the time of her life.”
The tall blonde hesitated, then indicated the empty space beside him. “You mind?”
“So much for churches being sanctuaries,” he muttered.
Bizarrely, April’s cousin took this as permission to sit beside him, even if a good three or so feet away. Her giant purple purse set by her hip, she tilted her head back, wordlessly taking in the vaulted arches overhead for several seconds before saying, “April’s totally wrecked over this, you know.”
“Do not get on my case, Blythe,” he said quietly. “I appreciate how you three gals look out for each other, but you don’t know me—”
Her chuckle derailed him. “And what makes you think this is about you, hotshot?” she said, her gaze sharp over a quasi smile. “You’re right, I don’t know you. Or what really happened—”
“What happened,” Patrick said, not as much bitterly as resigned, “is that she got caught up in...the novelty. Until she got a good whiff of reality and realized she couldn’t hack it.”
“The novelty...? Oh. Because you’re her first?”
He leaned forward, the top of the pew grinding into his wrists. “Not sure we should be talking about this in church.” Even if, aside from the organist, they were the only two people there.
“I’m sure God’s heard worse. And you really think a little hanky-panky’s going to blind April to reason? Or turn her into someone she’s not?”
Frowning, he twisted around to face April’s cousin. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That underneath all the bubbles, that girl’s the most levelheaded person I know. She doesn’t do anything on a whim, or without thinking it through, weighing all the options. So there’s a reason she picked you. I don’t know what that is—and don’t care—but I think it’s fairly safe to say you can leave the novelty thing out of the equation.”
As if, he thought, scrubbing a hand across his jaw. “Fine. That doesn’t change the fact that she left. And the only difference between what she did and what my ex did is that April at least had the decency to end it before Lili could get hurt.”
The organ music abruptly ceased, the final chord ghosting around them for several moments before Blythe spoke again. “I assume you know about her family life? And her marriage?”
Having no idea where she was going with this, Patrick nodded.
“Did she tell you the part about her husband o
ffering to release her from their agreement?”
Patrick’s head snapped around. “What?”
“Several times, apparently. And each time she refused.”
“Why?”
Blythe shrugged. “Because she truly cared about him, for one thing. And for another...she’d made a promise. Yeah, April’s decent all right. Decent enough to honor her promises, to work her tush off to support her family all those years.” She smiled. “Instead of, you know, hanging at the mall and ogling boys like a normal teenage girl.” Her hand landed on his arm, the grip firm through his coat. “She doesn’t bail on the people that matter to her. Ever.”
Patrick slammed his palms onto the pew back, shoved to his feet. “Could’ve fooled me,” he muttered, then started to the far end of the pew.
“You’re not getting it, Patrick!” Blythe called behind him. “She didn’t leave to save her own butt. She left to save yours!”
Blythe’s words reverberated in the vast, empty space, settling around him like volcanic ash. Stopped in his tracks, he wheeled to see her standing as well, her eyes shiny as she hugged her purse to her chest.
“And how do you figure that?” he said.
“How about because I don’t think the woman knows how to put herself first? Total flaw in her genetic makeup, but whatever. If she had a reason for picking you, then you better believe she had a darn good reason for backing off. And it wasn’t about her. But I’m also telling you...give her a reason to believe, to trust you, and trust me—she’s yours for life.”
Patrick glared at Blythe for several more seconds before continuing to the end of the pew, his head so full he was half surprised it hadn’t cracked open. A minute later, however, his skull intact, he found himself back outside, his coat buttoned against the now bitterly cold breeze as he walked the few blocks to his sister’s house to get Lili. The crowds had pretty much dispersed; he imagined April was long gone.
The wind pummeled him from what seemed like every direction at once, like a playground bully with ninja powers. Illogically he wanted to rail at it, tell it to leave him the hell alone—
His eyes teared. Because he missed her. Had missed her from the moment she’d walked out his door. And the thing was, he knew Blythe and his mother were both right, that she’d left because he hadn’t given her a reason to stay. Hadn’t manned up the way she needed him to. And deserved.
But how could he while he was so damned scared?
The truth joined forces with the wind to rip the breath from his lungs, nearly deafening him to his phone’s ring. His eyes watering, he braced himself long enough to make out the display. His stomach jumped when he did.
“Holy crap, Nat—where the hell have you been—?”
“Sorry, sorry—had to get a new phone, and my internet was down. How’s Lili?”
He turned down his sister’s street; the wind apparently decided to go knock somebody else around. “Wondering when she’s going to see her mother again,” he said flatly. At his ex’s silence, he came to a stop and blew out a sigh. “What?”
“I got a job.”
“Okay...that’s great—”
“In Chicago.”
His hand tightened around the phone as the implications sank in. “So Chicago’s not that far—”
“They want me to start right away. The day after Christmas.”
“But you’ll come see Lili before you leave, right?”
Silence. Then: “I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you? I saw...I know she was upset the last time I was there. I could hear her crying all the way out to my car. And I know you might find this hard to believe, but it tore me up. I can’t...it doesn’t seem right, to do that to either one of us again.”
“Dammit, Nat—”
“Yeah, you go ahead and be as mad as you want, it’s not like I don’t have it coming. You think I don’t know what a lousy wife I was? And a lousier m-mother?” He heard her blow her nose. “I need a fresh start, babe. We all do. Because I can’t fix what I broke. And trying to, I feel like I keep making a bigger mess, you know? You—you and Lili—you need to move on. Find somebody who’ll be there for you. Forget about me. And she’s still young. If I make the break now it won’t be so bad, right?”
His hand clamped to his bare head, Patrick spun around, looking at nothing. “Are you freaking kidding me? Forget about you? The kid talks about you constantly—”
“Because I keep giving her false hope! Just like my dad did to me all those years. I kept telling myself, at least I saw him sometimes. But you know, all that did was prolong the agony. And I won’t do that to Lili. You gotta believe me, Pat—this is for the best.”
“So, what? You’re gonna pretend your own kid doesn’t exist?”
“I didn’t say that,” Natalie said quietly. “Believe me, I’ll think about her the rest of my life. And I did love you. But you both...you both need more than I know I’ll ever be able to give.”
Three, four breath clouds misted in front of his face before he finally said, “You gonna at least let us know where you are?”
“Sure thing,” she said, and ended the call. And, in all likelihood, what was left of their relationship.
At this point, the wind could have blown him clean out to sea and he wouldn’t have noticed. First Ma, then April’s cousin, and now Natalie—holy hell.
It took him the rest of the walk to his sister’s to regain his breath. Only to take one look at his baby girl and lose it all over again.
“Ow, Daddy! You’re squishing me!”
“Sorry, baby,” he said, releasing his daughter from a hug that had probably felt a bit...desperate. Handing him Lili’s coat, Frannie frowned.
“What’s going on?”
“Noth—” At his sister’s glare, he sighed. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Sure, hon.” After Patrick got Lili all bundled up, Frannie reached over to fold him in her arms, her silent support enough, for the moment.
Still wound up, Lili skipped and wiggled and chattered all the way back to their house. And if it was wrong that for once he tuned her out, then sign him up for the Bad Daddy Club. Because while she was going on about seeing Santa and how a-maz-ing the boat ride had been, Patrick was trying to catalog all the junk in his brain. Although he knew at least one thing—that there was no way he’d tell Lili about her mother until after Christmas. No point in ruining her holiday for her, and it wasn’t like she was going to find out he’d known three days before she did.
The rest of it, though...brother.
Yeah, he’d let April go to save himself the trouble—and pain—of doing it himself later. Because, even more than he had a hard time believing this incredible, loving woman could truly fall in love with him so quickly, he had an even harder time believing that he’d fallen for her.
Like a damn stone.
So he’d fought it. Oh, Lord, had he fought it, with everything he had in him, telling himself it was illogical, and foolish, instead of simply having the grace to accept the damn gift, like his mother had said. To trust that, maybe, just maybe, April was a recompense for everything he’d been through.
And the fear had been his strongest ally, hadn’t it? Fear of looking like a failure. A loser. That he’d lose his tenuous grip right in front of April—much worse than he had in the restaurant that night—and there wouldn’t be a thing he could do to stop it.
So what?
He flinched.
Yeah, that’s right. So you lose it in front of her. You really think that would make a lick of difference to her—?
“Daddy! You’re not listening to me!”
“Sorry, baby.” Patrick swung her up into his arms for the last block of their walk, smiling when she patted his face with her soft little mittens. “What did you say?”
“That I asked Santa to bring me Mama for Christmas. That was a good thing to ask for, huh?”
Not that Lili’s issues hadn’t been, and still weren’t, valid. Crap—what with everything else that had gone
down that night, he’d somehow forgotten about her request. So now what? It was one thing to tell a kid that Santa didn’t always bring you what you wanted, if what they wanted was some toy or game or something. But this...
He’d done everything in his power to protect her, to keep her little heart from breaking again so soon. Except he’d set himself an impossible task. In trying to do the impossible, had he quite possibly screwed up a very real chance at happiness?
For both of them?
“Yeah, that was a good thing to ask for,” he said softly as he carried her up the stairs and unlocked his front door. Once in the apartment, he hit the switch that turned on the table lamp before setting her down. “But I’m afraid...”
Her eyes were huge. Hopeful. Emotion jammed at the back of Patrick’s throat. Sighing, he dropped into the armchair, pulling Lili onto his lap. “Mama’s not coming back, baby.”
She sat so still Patrick at first wondered if she’d heard him. “How come?” she said, her eyes fixed in his.
“Because she’s moving very far away.”
“Too far to come see me?”
“Yes.”
Her forehead crinkled, Lili started picking at his sleeve. “Never?” she whispered, and Patrick died a little inside.
And the thing was, it wasn’t as if he knew for sure that his ex wouldn’t change her mind at some point, decide she’d made a mistake, that she wanted to see Lili again. Or at some point down the road even try to patch together something resembling a real relationship with her daughter. Hell, Nat’s unpredictability was the only predictable thing about her. But he refused to dangle a carrot in front of his kid.
“Never is a very, very long time, baby. I wish I could say I knew for certain what Mama might do, but I can’t. I do know, however, that you’re one very lucky kid, having all these people who love you. Me, for one. And then there’s Grandma and Poppa and all your aunts and uncles and cousins—”
“But you love me most, huh?”
Clearing his throat, Patrick tightened his hold. “Absolutely.”
After a moment, Lili wriggled out of his grasp to slide off his lap. Grabbing her Piglet off the sofa, she stuffed her thumb in her mouth and said around it, “Could you turn on the tree?”
A Gift for All Seasons Page 18