A little while later, he woke up with her in his arms. Aimee was still fast asleep. He quietly slipped out of bed and went into the kitchen. Fixing something to eat, he hoped she’d have an appetite once she woke up. He tried to think of what he could do for her. Most men would be out of their element, not even pretending to guess what would help. He had no such reservations. He loved her and wanted to be everything for her. Their friends might think they went too fast, but he reckoned it was their problem. They’d get over it. He wanted to be a part of her life. He was glad he stopped being an idiot long enough to figure out they were bookends—opposite but similar. He liked who he was with her. She saw through any pretenses he might attempt and still she loved him. She was an imposter with her “tough cookie” act, and once he uncovered it he found her to be one of the most interesting and loving people he’d ever met. He now understood why Declan was so protective of her.
Shit! Declan!
He didn’t know if he should call him about the miscarriage, but he wouldn’t without talking to Aimee first. Declan would be pissed that he didn’t call from the hospital, but what the hell would he have said? “Aimee’s in the hospital again and, oh, by the way, it was a miscarriage.” Hell no! It had to be her decision. He’d wait and do whatever she wanted.
The house was so still. He quietly put the dishes in the dishwasher and entered the bedroom. She was awake, silently staring out the window at the falling snow. He got into bed with her, easing his arm around her waist and placing his open hand on her stomach. She said nothing, but placed her hand on top of his. He knew eventually she wouldn’t be able to keep internalizing this, but he wanted her to know she wouldn’t have to go through it alone. As the crackle of the fire filled the silence, they lay there watching the landscape change from green to white.
“Do you think God hates me?”
Her voice was barely above a whisper but the weight of her question crushed his heart. He weighed his words carefully.
“I’m not sure he could,” he said, kissing the back of her hair. “One of the things I love about you, babe, is your kind heart. So if what you tell me about God ‘looking at the motive of your heart’ is true, I don’t think it would be possible,” he answered. “Why? Do you?”
The strong confidence she heard in the timbre of his voice served to quiet her distress, if only a little bit. She insecurely shrugged her shoulders.
“I don’t know… I hope not, but I can’t be sure,” she answered. “I mean, I must be a cold bitch.”
“Aimee…” he started, but she interrupted him.
“I am, Carter. How else can you explain I have no feeling for a little baby who never had a chance?”
He felt her shudder as she silently cried and the lump in his throat grew exponentially. She was the victim, yet she confessed her indifference as if she committed murder. His heart broke knowing he couldn’t fix this for her. It was something she had to work out, but he tried to ease her pain.
“You can’t beat yourself up about this, Aim. You didn’t want this to happen… any of it.”
“I don’t know what to think. Shouldn’t every death be mourned?”
He couldn’t answer, so he held her as she cried. She could try to say she wasn’t sad about the miscarriage but her tears proved it a lie. It was fact; tenderness brings tears; indifference abandons them.
He affectionately ran his hand over her shoulder.
“I know this, sweet girl,” he confessed. “You are a compassionate person and have a kind heart. If you didn’t, this wouldn’t affect you at all and we wouldn’t be talking about it.”
His warm lips rested on the shell of her ear.
“I don’t believe God hates you, baby… and I don’t think I could understand a God who wouldn’t give you a break on this one,” he whispered.
She laughed a little through the tears.
“You’re crazy, you know it?” she said with a stuffy, nasal voice while reaching for the tissues. Wiping her eyes and nose, she snuggled back against him.
“Do you know this has become my favorite place in the whole world?” she asked.
“I can see why,” he answered looking out the window. “The snow is kinda pretty tonight.”
“No. Not the lake,” she said, correcting him.
“It’s here… in your arms.”
As they quietly watched the snow increase in inches, the fire burned inside. It was as they were lying there he decided he wouldn’t tell her it was possible the baby was theirs. Only God knew for sure, but he’d accept responsibility for what happened that night and never tell her. It would serve no other purpose except to ease his conscience. It could only cause her more pain and she’d been through enough. It might be the wrong thing to do, but sometimes you had to do the wrong thing for the right reason.
Her shoulders relaxed as the effects of exhaustion took their toll. He held her, thinking about their future and looking out the window, as the landscape changed with each snowflake.
They would get through this.
As the days passed uneventfully, he was cautiously optimistic Aimee was healing physically and emotionally. She quietly passed the days. They would sit together watching the birds getting food from the feeders while they drank hot chocolate. Cody was content to lay in front of the fire while they cuddled or played cards, but she was always close to Aimee. Her mood was melancholy and it ate at him. She might be getting better, but he could tell something was lacking. She was depressed and he felt helpless. Finally, an idea popped up when his friends visited—with a ten foot Christmas tree! He watched her transform as they dragged the evergreen through the front door. It was the first time in awhile she’d seemed happy.
“Wow!” Her eyes widened in surprise. “It’s the biggest tree I’ve ever seen!”
“Yep. You won’t get one of those in the city, that’s for sure,” Marcus said, his chest puffed out with pride.
“Where did you buy a tree so big?” she asked.
The men shot each other amused looks.
“Girl!” Marcus teased. “You don’t buy a tree like this one.” He proudly raised his chin and chest. “Real men cut down their trees.” Falcon, too, shared his opinion as evidenced by his playful smirk and stance.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Carter said. “You guys are real macho men.” He laughed along with them. Standing behind her, he closed his arms around her waist. Just then he felt her body shaking as she giggled. His heart swelled. It was the first he’d seen her happy since the events. Suddenly, he had an idea.
“Aim, why don’t we have a Christmas party?” he said.
“What?” She turned in his arms to face him. “A party? Who would we invite?”
Falcon cleared his throat and shrugged his shoulders.
“What are we? Chopped liver?” he asked while Marc raised an inquisitive brow.
“I’m sorry,” she laughed. “I didn’t mean to offend you guys.”
“Yeah, well whether you like it or not sweetheart, you’re stuck with us,” Marcus said.
Carter’s fingertips, brushing away a stray curl, trailed down to skim the line of her jaw.
“We can do this. We can invite Declan and Aria… all our friends from the beach,” he explained. “This house has enough bedrooms for everybody. They can stay the weekend.”
She hesitantly looked from man to man.
“I don’t know if I can,” she confessed. “I’m getting better every day, but do you think I can pull off a party?”
“I don’t expect you to do everything by yourself. I’m going to help,” he assured her. He adopted an evil, playful look. “I might even let you cook,” he teased.
Aimee hit him on the arm, which made him laugh out loud.
“Asshole!” she accused.
“Yeah, it’s what you keep calling me. I might have to do something about that,” he joked.
Immediately she had reservations, raising questions.
“What about decorations? Do you have them?” she asked.<
br />
“We’re going to get new ones,” he assured. “Yours and mine.”
His comment warmed her heart.
“This is our party, Aim.” He looked tenderly into her eyes. He rested his forehead to hers. “We need to start making new memories, good ones. What better time than at Christmas?”
Her eyes turned misty. She nodded.
“You’re right. It’s time to go forward.”
Looking at the tree still lying on the floor, she turned her attention to the other men.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s get this bad boy up and in the tree stand!”
She kissed him on the cheek.
“You get to work and I’ll get the beers,” she said, making her way to the kitchen. Cody followed close behind her, mystifying Carter. Turning his attention back to the guys, he looked at the tree.
“You heard the lady. Let’s get to work!”
Her mood brightened in anticipation of the get together. It took a little over two weeks for her to get everything exactly the way she wanted and Carter discovered she was quite the perfectionist. They went shopping for decorations and had lunch out, the change in scenery also seemed to help. She then carefully placed everything exactly where she wanted it, using Carter to place things in the high places. He didn’t care where she wanted to put things or how she wanted to decorate. He stood back and enjoyed her happiness, finding it fed his. She baked for days. He insisted she take frequent breaks so she didn’t overdo it. His constant visits in and out of the kitchen enabled him to sample everything she made, so much so his jeans felt tighter. Finally, Friday night came and their guests began to arrive. His brother and Aria led the caravan of Paige, Blake, and Katherine. They even surprised Aimee by bringing Jeannie, who immediately mothered her. As Jeannie wrapped her arms around her she winked at Carter. It was a silent message of support. He knew Jeannie would help him keep her from overdoing it. Marc and Falcon arrived, much to the delight of Katherine. Once the guys were introduced they began to flirt with her. Blake kept a watchful eye hoping they didn’t migrate to Paige. It had been a long ride from the beach, so Carter led everyone into the dining room. They’d set everything up as a buffet. This way Aimee wouldn’t feel the need to serve everyone. The bar they’d set up became a very popular area, and as everyone satisfied themselves, they moved into different groups as the guys talked about football and the girls doted on Aimee.
“The tree is one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen,” Aria commented as she stood beneath the towering evergreen. “I love the way you decorated it!”
She smiled at the compliment as she and Jeannie sat on the sofa. She had to agree. The tree did look beautiful. Carter would never know how much it meant to her to have a “family” Christmas. She felt a contentment like she’d never known as he assured her this was just the first of many holidays they would spend together. They’d played Christmas carols and drank hot chocolate as they decorated the tree. As she looked at the top she remembered him standing on the ladder as he bathed the tree in tiny white lights. When he was done, they added the ornaments one by one. It had taken them several hours, but with each ornament they added a good memory. Eventually, she hoped they would outshine the bad.
“It seems you have a reason to smile,” Jeannie said as she noticed Aimee looking at him.
“I do,” she said. “He’s a big part of it,” she confessed, then a frown formed. “I’m afraid the dark clouds will come back.” Jeannie took her hand.
“Now you listen to me. Choose your happiness. You can’t change what happened yesterday, and you can’t predict what will come tomorrow. All any of us have is today, sweetheart. Find your bliss in the little things and soon they’ll outnumber the gloom.”
Jeannie was right, she just needed to keep reminding herself of her blessings. She and Carter were finding their way together… and she loved what they were becoming.
Neither one of them were the same as when they first met. He held her one night and told her she was the first person he ever felt “real” with. She’d replied by telling him although Declan had come close, he was the first sense of family she’d ever known. He was surprised because he knew she and Declan were close, but she assured him he was the first.
It was a beginning.
He caught her looking at him and he winked. As he pulled away from the guys and joined the ladies, he sat between her and Jeannie. He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.
“Everything okay?” he asked, searching her face for signs of exhaustion. “Are you getting tired?” She shook her head.
“I’m fine. I’m just happy. I’m glad I’m here.”
He placed a light kiss on her lips, contentment filling her.
“Me too,” he said, watching as her cheeks grew flushed. “…and you’re not going anywhere.”
His open demonstration of affection quickened her heart. She wasn’t sure what anyone knew or didn’t know. She’d only spoken to Declan and Aria about her condition, not her feelings, but it seemed he was making an announcement with this simple gesture; this was a permanent arrangement.
She laughed.
“What?” he asked, smiling at her.
“Nothing. Just a thought that went through my head.”
“I’m a master at interrogation so you might as well give it up.” Her blush turned a deeper shade.
“It’s stupid. I just realized how many ladies would be unhappy you’re off the market.”
“Sweetheart, it takes a strong woman to love a flawed man—and you’re the strongest woman I know.” He kissed her again. “I don’t care about the other ladies.”
Jeannie interrupted them by clearing her throat.
“Should I leave?” she joked.
“Sorry,” they said in unison as they laughed.
“No need for apologies,” she said and kissed them both on the cheek.
“C’mon Carter,” she said. “Let’s get some meat back on her bones.” She pointed to the food.
He took Aimee’s hand as they walked behind her to have seconds.
It was a great feeling to have family around for Christmas. All the more so this morning because she had Carter beside her. Most of them probably guessed, but after his behavior last night they had no doubt. She laid in his arms, happier than she’d felt in months.
Wow!
To look at them now, you’d never believe she thought he was a pushover and he thought she was a brat. This felt wonderful and scary at the same time. She had confessed her fears to him, “panic attacks” the doctor called them. He said under the circumstances he would have been surprised if she didn’t have some residual anxiety. So far, she hadn’t had any as monumental as the night she miscarried. There were times when she was momentarily overwhelmed with fear, “flash panics”. The doctor compared it to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. At first she thought they would overwhelm her, but so far and everything seemed okay. At the doctor’s suggestion, she was taking a mild tranquilizer and seeing a counselor. They’d only had one visit, but she intended to continue the sessions.
She listened to him as he breathed deeply, and it soothed her. It was better than a tranquilizer, this feeling of security. As she lay against him, his arm crossed possessively at her waist. Gently, she lifted his hand and slipped out of bed. Tiptoeing to the bathroom, she peeked over her shoulder to see a view she’d come to love; Carter. This was where she felt anchored. Life without him or their beautiful mountains was unimaginable. She stopped to peek out the window. The evergreens were weighed down with wet snow which clung to their branches. Some of the snow had frosted over to ice as the morning sun hit it with its warmth. What had further melted had now turned to icicles and they hung from trees and bushes. It was her very own, personal winter wonderland.
As Aimee finished, she pulled on sweats and a tee shirt. She wanted to start the coffee and put cinnamon rolls and cranberry bread in the oven before any of their friends woke up. She was sitting at the dining room table when Ka
therine entered.
“Oh my gosh!” she said, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “It smells sooooo good in here! What are you making?”
“Cinnamon rolls and bread,” she answered. She pulled out the chair next to her and patted the seat. “Here, Kat, sit. I’ll get you some coffee.”
Katherine stirred her coffee, a little longer than necessary as if something was on her mind. Once she stopped, she faced Aimee, holding the cup with both hands.
“How are you feeling… and before you answer, don’t give me the answer you think I want,” she asked.
Aimee smiled. “Aren’t we a little bossy!” she teased. She contemplated her answer. How much was too much to tell a friend?
“Today, so far, I’m fine.” Then she smiled. “But hey, it’s early yet,” she joked.
Katherine struggled uncomfortably.
“I want to tell you something… but please don’t get mad, okay?”
She hesitated as Aimee silently waited.
“Did you know I was mugged?” she calmly asked.
Aimee’s eyebrows arched in surprise.
“No.”
“It was before I moved to the beach. I lived in Baltimore. Every day, when I got home from work, I went walking, just laced up my shoes and got out in the fresh air for an hour or two a day.” Taking a deep breath, she continued.
“One day, as I was walking through the neighborhood, someone came up behind me and put a gun in my back. He asked me for my money. I told him I didn’t have any money because I was walking. It pissed him off…” Her voice trailed away, and she took a nervous sip before staring into her cup.
“He beat me. Punched me, kicked me, and knocked me on the ground.”
Aimee took her hand to comfort her. Katherine smiled at the gesture.
“He pointed the gun at me. Right in my face. I knew I was going to die. Someone saw him and yelled. When they did, I ran. If he did shoot, the bullet missed me.”
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