The Tie That Binds

by LAURA GALE

  “That’s the kind of thing I need to have it be real.” She was standing at the sliding glass door now, trying to see through the haze of streaks she had created, her arms wrapped across herself for comfort. She smiled slightly. “‘Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.’ I’m not sure I could take it a second time, Lucas.”

  Lucas drained his coffee cup. This was an important crossroad. Even if she wasn’t trusting words, he had a few things he needed to say. Somehow he knew she wanted to hear them. She wanted to believe him.

  He crossed the room, turned her to face him, picked up her hand, holding it between the two of his. Even when she pulled back on it, he wouldn’t let it go.

  “Rachel, I love you. The only time in my life that I’ve ever been happy was when I was with you. Then and these last months, since I’ve met Michaela.” He shifted, reaching for her other hand. “If we need to learn to be with each other, okay. I can accept that. But understand—I’m not doubting us. I believe in us.”

  It occurred to Lucas that a few other things needed to be said.

  He reached out to tip her face toward him, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I’ve been so alone, Rachel, without you.”

  “Me, too, Lucas. Alone and so very lonely.”

  “I didn’t sleep with Alana, Rachel, while we were still together. I was faithful that way, even though I know it didn’t look like it. I felt divorced, once you left. Once I’d signed the papers. And it was awful. But I didn’t cheat on you, Rachel.”

  “I believed that when you said it five years ago, Lucas.” Quiet conviction resonated in her voice. “And it did help to know you weren’t sleeping around while you were still living with me.”

  They were silent for a moment, Lucas unconsciously stroking Rachel’s hand as he held it.

  “Can you forgive me?”

  Rachel finally understood the difference between forgiving and forgetting. “I have forgiven you, Lucas. I haven’t forgotten. I don’t know if I can. Or if I should.” She didn’t hold a grudge. She just carried scars.

  “Can you believe that things are different now? Can you trust me?” His voice shook with wanting her to accept what he was offering.

  “I don’t know.” This was the problem, Rachel knew it well.

  “Do you trust me with Michaela?”

  She stared back at him, nodding. “Yes.”

  “Well—” he needed to put a positive face on it “—that’s also progress.”

  “I want to…to trust you.” The admission sounded shy. She needed to change the subject. “I think we should be getting back to the hospital.”

  Lucas let her go, although every instinct wanted to pull her into his arms, soothe her, make her forget her misgivings. Make her trust him.

  But he couldn’t make her do anything. What she needed was a reason to believe. Again.

  Chapter 17

  In the end, Lucas faxed his resignation to Neuman Industries.

  He’d had no doubt at all that it was what he wanted. He had needed to decide on the most efficient, satisfying manner of carrying it out. Finally, he had decided faxing it would feel immediate. Of course, he sent the original in the mail with his actual signature so it would be accepted legally.

  The fax was sent; the deed was done. Lucas wasn’t sure how his father was going to react. A few months ago Lucas would have predicted a nasty scene, and just the thought of that probably would have changed his mind. Now he wouldn’t be put off by the possibility of upsetting his father. Ironically, though, he was no longer sure that his departure would bother Arnold Neuman. Not these days.

  In the end it wouldn’t really matter. Lucas had made his decision and it felt good. When he returned from putting the envelope in the mail, the telephone was ringing.

  “Hello?”

  “Lucas, this is Diego. Perhaps we can meet again? My cousins, they would like to talk with you. I know it is short notice, but we’re on our way to Filiberto’s on Thomas Road. Can you get there?”

  Lucas hastily agreed and dressed himself, equally hastily and very, very casually. Filiberto’s wasn’t fancy and didn’t have a lot of interior seating, but they did have excellent, authentic Mexican food. Lucas smiled to himself, thinking he was on the way to becoming acclimated to such cuisine again.

  Filiberto’s was just the sort of thing he had missed. And, it had to be said, Filiberto’s could offer up delicacies that would melt the sinuses. His grin spread across his face. If he knew Diego—and he believed he did—Filiberto’s was another test. Lucas was ready for that challenge. Pocketing his keys, he was nearly out the door when something made him stop.

  He went back to his bedroom, straight to his armoire. He opened the door to its interior cabinet, reaching unerringly for a little box—one he hadn’t thought of in a long while and yet had never forgotten. He opened it, staring down at the mellowed golden glow of the small object it held.

  In a few short seconds, he was evaluating that same golden glow as it encircled his finger. It looked—right. It felt—right. That wedding ring that had left his hand five years ago.

  It should have never been removed.

  It was perfect on his hand.

  Rachel couldn’t say what was actually more important.

  She was feeling bombarded. Bombarded, but happy? Was that the right word? Yes, bombarded and happy. Overwhelmed and joyful.

  Michaela was home. Her first day home in—how many months had it been? Rachel wasn’t sure anymore and she didn’t feel like counting them. All that mattered was that her little girl was home.

  In her honor, a restrained, although sincere, fiesta was underway. Rachel had known there would be food and family and lots of smiles, but she hadn’t really expected it to be like this. Again her mother had quietly, unbeknownst to Rachel, performed miracles at the town house. She had had help, of course, but the entire place was decorated, full of balloons, crepe paper flowers, and Welcome Home banners. Not to mention food.

  Still, toning down the exuberance was necessary and everyone knew it. No one wanted Michaela exhausted within fifteen minutes of her return.

  Rick and his wife, Teresa, had arrived at the hospital at eight that morning, ready to load any of Michaela’s and Rachel’s remaining possessions in their pickup. Lucas had arrived just as they were leaving, about eight-thirty. Rachel, to her surprise, had felt tears in her throat as she had said goodbye to her colleagues. Of course she would be back eventually, but in five years she’d never taken more than a few days off at a time other than to give birth to Michaela. Being gone indefinitely was going to be strange for her. A goodbye-and-good-luck party had been held the previous afternoon, and the very same tears that were threatening now had spilled then. And Rachel was thoroughly disgusted with herself for crying, especially in public.

  Michaela had been highly annoyed that she needed to leave the hospital via a wheelchair, but Lucas had laughed and scooped her into his arms, loading her into the chair, managing to make enough of a game of it that Michaela had laughed and gone along with it.

  That’s when Rachel had noticed it.

  The ring. The one he’d “misplaced,” so long ago. She’d caught Lucas’s eye, or rather, she had looked at him only to find him already looking at her, his dark gaze steady on her.

  “It’s where it belongs, Rachel,” he’d said.

  He’d known what she was thinking. Just as he always had.

  She felt those damn tears trying to rear up again. She thought immediately of her own rings, the ones she’d taken off before she’d gone to see a lawyer. The ones that were sitting in a black velvet drawstring pouch. At the back of her underwear drawer, exactly where they’d been for five years. She hadn’t even taken them out to look at them. Not once. The mere thought had been too painful for her.

  She wondered where his ring had been all these years.

  “I had the little box they came in, Rachel. You, uh, you didn’t take it with you.” Again, he’d seen her thoughts dance across her face
. He kept his voice low, as gentle as he knew how to make it. “My ring’s been in that box since the day I signed the separation agreement. The night you returned it to me, I put it back on, afterward. I thought—I think I actually thought that if I just put it back on, everything would be healed. That it would be okay. That that would somehow erase what I’d done. This time, Rachel, when I put it back on, it felt right. It is where it belongs, Rachel.”

  Rachel had turned away, feeling fragile to begin with, for reasons that had nothing to do with Lucas, and now this. She didn’t want to confirm her weakness in front of the whole world. Or even the staff and patients on this floor of PCH. She hurried on, in the guise of leading Lucas to the elevators.

  Lucas allowed it. Space, he kept repeating internally, desperately hoping that was all she needed. He’d have done anything for her, just to have her believing in him again. She just needs some space.

  Michaela was quickly seated in the Lexus, thrilled with the vehicle. Rachel had to acknowledge that it was more impressive, gadgetwise, luxurywise, than her little Ford. She could understand Michaela’s fascination with it. She could also understand that after months of being cooped up inside a hospital, Michaela was going to be impressed with everything. Rachel smiled.

  About halfway home, Rachel decided there was something different about Lucas. She couldn’t decide what it was exactly, but it was there. He was different. And he was smiling.

  As soon as they arrived at her town house and Diego came rushing out, greeting Lucas with the hearty handshake and laughter long-since abandoned between the two of them—well, Rachel knew something very odd indeed was going on. It had been a good many years since she’d seen that. She’d have to pursue it at some point, but for the time being, she was being swept up in the festivities, and any interrogation regarding this renewed and apparently thriving camaraderie would have to wait.

  So Rachel had returned the kiss from Diego and the hug from Tanisha and had gone inside. Lucas, who was carrying Michaela, followed her.

  Hugging and kissing continued all around, laughing and crying somehow mixed in, as well.

  Eventually, and much too soon to suit her taste, Michaela was tired. Simply worn out. The fiesta quietly folded then, Lucas taking Michaela upstairs to her room, Rachel seeing her guests to the door. Then she went up to Michaela’s room, coming to stand beside Lucas as he watched their sleeping daughter.

  Involuntarily their hands joined. They stood, Rachel and Lucas, united by the love they felt for their daughter. And by the awe they felt at her return. By mutual consent, they turned toward the door and headed back into the hallway.

  “Well, Rachel, I think I should be going, too.”

  Inwardly Rachel was sorry to hear him say it. She wanted him to stay. She wanted…him. She loved him. Of course, she did.

  But it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t ready. Was she?

  Lucas turned toward her, once they had descended the stairs. “I’d take it easy, relax if I were you, Rachel. Get some rest. You never know what kind of schedule she’s going to be on, trying to adapt to outside-the-hospital life again. She may wake up at eleven, wanting to stay up all night.”

  “Sí,” Rachel said laughing, “that is possible. Just the way it was when she was a baby.”

  It was momentary, instantaneous—the hurt that flashed across Lucas’s face, in his charcoal eyes. But Rachel saw it, even before he turned his head.

  “I would imagine so.”

  “I—” Rachel cleared her throat “—I didn’t mean anything by that, Lucas.”

  “I know. It’s just one of those things that I missed out on, and…well, I’m still discovering just how many of those things there really are.”

  They were at the front door. “Well, goodbye, then, Lucas. I know we need to figure out how to—” she waved her hand in the air, needing the body language to express herself “—live, now that she’s home.”

  “It’ll be fine. Let’s see how she’s doing and take it from there.”

  “Yes.”

  He leaned toward her, his mouth brushing hers lightly. “Good night, Rachel. I’ll call in the morning before I come over.”

  “Okay.”

  Rachel closed the door. She listened for his car to start, heard it pull out of the driveway. Then she burst into tears. Hurt, angry tears that Lucas had made no attempt at anything more…involved. And because she had wanted him to.

  The next three weeks passed in a similar manner. Lucas came to her place every day. He spent time with Michaela, sometimes taking her for a ride in his car. Other times the three of them played games just as they had in the hospital. And Michaela was determined to teach Spanish to her father. He was trying, but to call it succeeding would be a stretch. Still, Michaela was undaunted.

  They enjoyed one another’s company, as twosomes and as a threesome. Lucas would stay for dinner. Lucas would bring dinner with him. They went for walks. They flew kites. They went to the zoo. They went to the movies. They watched sunsets.

  Michaela had a long way to go before her life didn’t include medical realities, if, in fact, it was ever to be completely free of them. But this was a start, a step on the right path, and they were all thrilled with it.

  Lucas stayed with Rachel, sitting on the couch, watching television or listening to music, and talking long after Michaela had gone to bed. They talked the way they always had. They laughed. And they talked some more.

  Most nights, they made love—sweetly, gently or urgently, desperately—and everything in between. But Lucas never stayed the night.

  They never talked about the breakdown of their marriage. They never talked about how they were going to resolve anything.

  They just lived.

  And it was wonderful. But it wasn’t enough for Rachel. She needed so much more from this man. And she began to understand just how scared she was. In fact, she was terrified. But this was the only man for her. She had no choice but to take the risk. She wanted him back in her life—especially since he was already there.

  “Here, mija, take this napkin.” Rachel smiled, knowing it was hopeless already.

  Rachel and Michaela had been joined on their patio by her neighbor Tanisha, and her daughter, Vanessa. Rachel had bought a watermelon, and the two little girls were out to demonstrate that they really could wear more watermelon than they ate.

  “I think hosing them off is really the easiest solution, Rachel.” Tanisha was laughing, her ebony eyes flashing. “Okay, it might be the only solution.”

  “You could be right,” Rachel acknowledged with a sigh, sitting back in her chair, admitting good-natured defeat.

  “Hey, Rachel!” Lucas’s voice carried toward them. “Can you let me in?”

  He was standing at the side gate, the one that entered onto the common green and that required a key.

  “Just a minute,” Rachel called, getting up to admit him.

  “Oh, Papá,” Michaela squealed, waving him over to her. “Look! We’ve got watermelon! It’s so good! Come have some!” Juice, meanwhile, trickled down her chin and was beginning to stick her fingers together.

  “Maybe next time, sweetheart,” Lucas said, his dark eyes sparkling as he took in the happy messiness. “Actually, Rachel, I was hoping you would come for a drive with me.”

  “Huh?” Taken aback, and with her mouth full of watermelon, Rachel wasn’t pleased with her ineloquent response.

  “Yes.” Lucas laughed. “I have something I’d like to show you, talk over with you, if you could come with me.”

  “Oh, Papá, can I come?”

  “Not this time. This time is for Mamá. If she wants to.”

  “Go ahead,” Tanisha said, immediately picking up on the unique nature of Lucas’s request and Rachel’s awkward response. “We both know these two have to have a bath at this point. We might as well conserve water and bathe them together. I’ll close up your place and bring Michaela home with me. You know my place is sanitized, so she’s safe. Especially since it’s been
over a month now.”

  Rachel licked the juice off her fingers and walked over to the hose. She let the water run over her fingers, trying to establish some composure. She couldn’t begin to imagine what Lucas had in mind.

  “I’m not exactly dressed up,” she felt compelled to say, taking in his cotton canvas slacks and navy polo shirt. Casual, but hardly as casual as she was. It was nearly November, fall by the calendar, but temperatures were still warm and Rachel wore shorts.

  “No need to be dressed up. As you are is fine.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Rachel couldn’t decipher the message there, a fact that did nothing to calm her.

  “I’ll just get my purse.” She kissed Michaela on the head, smiling briefly because this time it was actually hair she kissed. “You be good, mija.”

  Rachel dropped into the Lexus’s passenger seat, buckled her seat belt and tried to relax. It was a highly futile endeavor. As was trying to make conversation. She was baffled by Lucas’s behavior, and couldn’t think of a way to disguise her feeling. Lucas himself didn’t seem inclined to say anything.

  So they rode in silence.

  Eventually Lucas pulled into Encanto Park, driving as if he had a specific destination in mind. He did.

  He parked by the lake, gesturing that they should get out of the car. Without thinking, Rachel headed toward the water, watching the children, the ducks and the lovers who were scattered throughout the park. She found a shady spot, the perfect vantage point.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Lucas’s quiet words startled her. She hadn’t realized he had followed her, but of course he had.

  “I’ve always loved Encanto Park,” she murmured. “Even when I was a little girl. It just has always felt…I don’t know, I guess I’m in tune with the enchantment of the place.”

  Lucas smiled, remembering Diego’s explanation—had it been two months ago? Anyway, Diego’s explanation made sense of Rachel’s remark.