Between the Raindrops

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Between the Raindrops Page 20

by Schussler, Susan


  “When you feel better, we can go shopping and replace all the items you lost in the accident. You’re going to need a new car too.” Will smiled deviously at her.

  “Don’t get any grand ideas. My insurance will replace everything,” she stated, looking up at him. Will just kept smiling as he contemplated what kind of car he was going to buy her. “You’re not buying me an expensive car! I liked my Honda,” she added.

  “We’ll just look,” he said, chuckling. “Besides, you probably won’t need one until we get to LA.” He stepped into the hallway in front of the wheelchair. He wanted Sarah to contemplate that on the ride home.

  “How can…? I…”

  He could feel her eyes burrowing into the back of his head, willing him to turn around. A smile flickered on his lips. They obviously had a lot to discuss.

  Paige pushed Sarah to the elevator as Will fiddled with his hat and jacket collar, trying to disguise himself and trying to avoid Sarah’s questioning expression. The elevator was empty, and they descended two floors before the door opened. On the platform stood two teenage girls looking just as Paige had described earlier.

  Before the door was completely open, Paige announced, “You’re going to have to take the next one. She’s very contagious,” and she pushed the close-door button before the girls had time to react.

  “You’re good!” Will commented after the elevator door had closed. He stepped out from the corner by the control panel.

  “Thanks,” Paige said with an energetic smile.

  They made it out to the curb and loaded the car without any more fan encounters. They thanked Paige for her help and headed back to the house. Sarah was finally out of the hospital and ready to go home. She and Will sat in the backseat of the car holding hands, as if they were fourteen again, being chauffeured around by her father. Will breathed a sigh of relief and nodded at David’s reflection in the rearview mirror.

  When they arrived at the house, it was quiet. Zander sat at the dining room table typing on his laptop—an iPad and a few piles of papers spread out around him. He looked up from his work to see his son’s scowling face.

  “Dad, give it a break. It’s Christmas Eve,” proclaimed Will.

  “There was no one here, Jon. I was just taking advantage of the quiet.”

  “Honestly,” David interjected, “he’s been the life of the party since he got here. You should have seen him last night. He shared some really great stories about you and your dealings with the press. Like when you dropped your pants on national television and ended up getting twelve different underwear modeling offers.”

  “Great,” Will said, rolling his eyes.

  Will introduced his dad to Sarah. He knew Sarah would see the resemblance right away—the strong jawline, the height, even his eyes. Though Zander’s were light brown, almost amber, not ice blue, they were lined with the same thick lashes. Zander’s hair was lighter than his, and cut short, with a peppering of gray throughout.

  David, Zander, Will, and Sarah all chatted about spending Christmas together and how well Lara and Kate were getting along. The moms and Jessica were out doing some last-minute shopping before all the stores closed. Lara hadn’t brought any gifts with her on the plane, and she wanted to pick up a few items.

  After visiting for an hour, Sarah was exhausted again and needed a nap. She still had a long recovery ahead of her and needed to take it slow. Will reminded her to take her pain medicine first. Then he helped her upstairs to her room and got her settled into bed.

  He kissed her forehead and was getting ready to leave when Sarah asked, “Will you stay with me, Will?”

  “Sarah, I don’t think your dad would allow that. Didn’t you see the look on his face as we were going up the stairs?” He raised his eyebrows and smiled at her.

  “Just for a little bit, please?” she pleaded.

  He climbed up on the bed next to her and wrapped his arm gently across her hip.

  After about ten minutes, David knocked softly on Sarah’s door. Will jumped off the bed and met him.

  “She just fell asleep,” Will whispered as he slipped out of the room.

  David put his arm around Will’s shoulders. “You look tired. Your parents have the guest room, but you can lie down on the couch in the basement. It’s quiet there. I can get you some blankets and a pillow, if you like.”

  “No, I’ll be fine. Thanks, though,” Will said as they headed downstairs.

  Will spent the next hour catching up with his dad. David had to run to a local animal shelter for an emergency, so Will and Zander were left alone to talk.

  “You’re serious about this, Jon?” asked Zander.

  “Yeah, Dad, I love her.”

  “I can see that. Do you think she is ready to take on your life, though? It can be much crazier than the life she is used to here,” Zander said, looking around the living room. “It’s pretty quiet here—not like your life at all. Her family seems grounded, but will she be able to handle Hollywood?”

  “She thinks she’s prepared, but I don’t think she has a clue what it’s going to be like.”

  “Well, you better find a way to prepare her, or you’re going to lose her, Jon.” He probed his son’s eyes with a very serious look.

  “I know, Dad,” Will said with a worried expression. “But how?”

  “Talk to her. Tell her everything you know. Then ease her into it slowly. You do not want to spook her,” he said as he closed his laptop and gathered the papers spread across the table.

  “She’s seen some of the craziness, but nothing like Hollywood, or worse, a red carpet. I think you have to experience that—the screaming and crying fans, the blinding flashes, the paparazzi—to understand what a cracked life I have.”

  “Not every actor has to deal with your wild circus. It will slow down someday.”

  “I’m actually looking forward to that day—I think.”

  “Save your money, because when your life slows down, so do your paychecks,” his dad reminded him.

  “I’m not a spender, Dad.”

  “Yes, you are pretty responsible.” He stood up and walked over to the couch. “Come sit down.” He patted the cushion next to him.

  Will sat down and turned toward his dad, placing his arm across the back of the couch. “Even if I can prepare her, how do I keep her safe? I almost lost her this week. What if my crazy life kills her?” He pleaded for some help.

  “Well, there are two philosophies right now. I have seen them both fail, though. In the first one, you do not tell the press anything. You live your life avoiding direct questions, and the paparazzi are so focused on whether you are together they can’t move on to harder questions. Still, it can backfire and make the paparazzi more relentless in trying to prove what you won’t admit.” He met his son’s eyes and continued. “In the other, you give press releases, and you deal with issues as they come up. You admit what you want in interviews, but the paparazzi still stalk you with even more intrusive questions. I don’t think you can win either way, and I do not know if you can completely protect anyone—ever. Sometimes things are just out of your control. You do what you can to avoid problems, but you can’t orchestrate everything, Jon.”

  Will looked at his dad, wishing he would have given him a better answer, something more tangible, something that would solve all his problems. He already knew these philosophies, probably better than his dad. He had been dealing ceaselessly with the press for four years now. Realizing that this was the only answer he was going to get, he pressed on.

  “Dad, you know, Mom really misses you. You leave her alone too much.”

  “Yes, I know. It’s not entirely my fault. She is always welcome to join me on location.”

  “She’d still be alone if you’re working, whether she’s physically with you or not.”

  He scrunched his thick eyebrows. “I’m going to take some time off here in January. Maybe we will take a trip. What do you think—Paris or Milan?”

  “Better make it a seclu
ded island resort—Caicos, maybe. She’d like that better.”

  “We’re not you. We do not need to rent an entire island, but you’re probably right about her liking it better,” he admitted, patting his son on the shoulder. “So, tonight or tomorrow?”

  “I don’t know—sometime when I can get her alone and awake.” Will chuckled nervously.

  “Well, good luck, son.”

  “Thanks. I think I’m going to go lift some weights and grab a shower before everyone gets back. I must have lost ten pounds. My director is going to kill me, if my trainer doesn’t beat him to it.” Will smiled at his dad, grabbed his bag he had been dragging around the hospital, and then headed downstairs.

  He had a lot of worries on his mind. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to prepare Sarah without scaring her off and was more worried than ever before about keeping her safe. Having almost lost her once, he didn’t see how he could ever let her out of his sight again. He really wasn’t looking forward to being tortured by his trainer to gain back the weight, and he was a little nervous that Sarah wouldn’t like her Christmas present.

  When Will entered the family room, the smell of cut pine assaulted his nostrils, and he took a deep breath, enjoying the pleasant burn. The large front window, blocked by the tall lit fir, bounced back bright, blinking colors, filling the room with shifting ambient light. Will had never had a real Christmas tree, and the shadows produced by the large flashing bulbs fascinated him.

  David’s collection of colorful German nutcrackers animated the walls of the room as the lights’ strobe hit them. The wooden faces peered out from the built-in shelves with bright jewel-toned eyes like a wooden toy army. Will picked up one of the crackers, examining it more closely. It was old. It felt solid and well-constructed—not like one of those cheap ones assembled in China. Will ran his finger over the brass plate that read THE MOUSE KING and playfully opened the crowned mouse’s mouth with the handle, pretending it could talk. He caught himself, looked around the room to make sure no one had spotted him talking, and set it back on the shelf.

  He wandered around the room, examining the decor, wishing Sarah was awake. She had been sleeping all afternoon, and he was starting to worry that she would sleep right through dinner. Will was hoping that he could talk to Sarah tonight, since there would be fewer people in the house. Jeff and Jessica were at her grandma’s house in Rochester and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning. Will had planned out what he would say to Sarah. He had even practiced it in his head. He just needed to get her alone, and with Sarah’s relatives coming to the house tomorrow for Christmas dinner, tonight would be his only opportunity.

  Kate found Will in the family room as he was studying a handmade ornament from the tree. It was a two-inch-tall book bound in homemade paper. The cover of the book was titled Santa’s List in minute gold letters. Inside, ten or so names were printed in a child’s writing under the headings “Naughty” and “Nice.” Will chuckled when he saw that Jeff’s name was the only name listed on the “Naughty” page.

  “Sarah made that when she was seven. It’s one of my favorites,” Kate stated as she approached. Her voice startled Will, and he froze with the decoration in his hand before turning to her.

  “I can see why,” Will said, hanging the ornament back on the tree. He wondered what Jeff had done to tick off a seven-year-old Sarah.

  “Did you find everything you wanted this afternoon?”

  “Yes. Thanks for letting me use your car. I really appreciate it.” He smiled at Kate and then asked, “Do you need any help with dinner?”

  “Everything is ready. I was just waiting on Sarah. Would you mind running upstairs and waking her?”

  “Not at all,” he answered and eagerly took off up the stairs.

  He knocked softly on the door and opened it slowly. He was surprised to see her out of bed.

  “I thought you were still sleeping,” Will said apologetically. “Your mom asked me to fetch you for dinner.”

  She stood wrapped only in a towel with her back facing him, her hair damp. As she turned around, the grimace on her face told Will something was wrong.

  “Are you all right? I can leave.”

  “No. Please stay. I need your help.”

  “You’re in pain,” Will stated, knitting his eyebrows in concern.

  She nodded.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  He sprinted down the stairs and found her purse on the counter in the kitchen. Next to it sat her pain pills. He retrieved the tan prescription bottle, filled a glass with water, and headed back to Sarah’s room, ignoring Kate and Lara’s gaping.

  When he reached the bedroom, he said, “Here,” handing Sarah the bottle and then the glass.

  She thanked him with her eyes as she took the medicine and, still grimacing, asked, “Will you help me get dressed? I’ve been trying, but I just can’t do it by myself.”

  Will leaned back and clicked the door shut. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Help me with my bra and underwear?” She looked at him anxiously. “I can’t bend down. It hurts too much.”

  “I’m not used to putting them on you. My mind is set to work in the other direction,” he admitted with a grin as he took the pair of pink lace panties from her.

  She attempted a smile, but he could tell it was pained. Sarah sat on the edge of the bed as Will slipped the leg holes around her feet. He extended his hand to her and slowly, gradually, helped her back into a standing position. Then, bending down, keeping his eyes glued on her eyes, he gently pulled up her panties the rest of the way.

  With sorrow dripping in his voice, he stated, “I wish I could take all your pain away.”

  “It helps just having you here,” she whispered as she gingerly turned back toward the wall. She let go of the towel, and it dropped to the floor with a dull thud.

  The sight of her practically naked backside made Will wish even more that he could take all her pain away.

  “Argh,” Sarah groaned, her arm trembling uncontrollably as she threaded it through the strap of the pink lace bra.

  Will cringed. “Here, let me do that.” Walking around her, he took the other end of the bra and tenderly eased her arm through the strap. Then he gently fitted the garment onto Sarah’s breasts, being careful not to touch anywhere near her bandages, and fastened the two hooks in the back. “I think pink is my new favorite color. What’s next?” he lovingly asked.

  “My blouse and skirt.” Her eyes flitted to the bright-red blouse and black skirt on the end of the bed.

  “You’re not wearing that. You’ll be too uncomfortable. It’s just our parents. You don’t have to impress anyone.” He dug through her dresser and pulled out a pair of black yoga pants and a pink T-shirt. “You’ll be happier in this. No one is expecting your A-game, Sarah.”

  Her mouth dropped open, as if she was ready to argue, and then closed again. Will carefully helped her with the clothes, and when she was dressed, he smiled at her. “Are we ready?”

  “Almost.” She dragged him to the closet and pointed the best she could to a charcoal-colored sweater high on a shelf. “I’m cold. Most of my clothes are at the rental house. All that’s here is stuff I don’t like, but that one isn’t totally awful.”

  “My parents aren’t the fashion police. You look beautiful. It doesn’t matter what you wear.”

  He helped her with the sweater and gently wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her cheek softly, still holding her in his arms, and she whispered, “Thanks.”

  He leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers. Pinning her with his glacial blue eyes, he declared in his most tender voice, “I love you, Sarah. I’ll do anything for you.”

  Her face lit with a genuine smile. “I know.”

  She grabbed Will’s hand, and together, they slowly negotiated each step of the staircase until they reached the main floor.

  Kate had made her traditional Christmas Eve dinner—Italian lasagna with garlic bread, asparagus spri
gs, and a large green salad with pears and walnuts. Will declared it the best meal he had ever had and ate three helpings. Everyone was stuffed by the time the dishes were cleared, and they all sat around chatting in front of the tree, digesting their meals.

  As the evening progressed, David, Kate, Zander, and Lara left for the candlelight service at Sarah’s church. Sarah didn’t feel up to going, and Will didn’t want to leave her alone at the house.

  As soon as everyone had left for church, Will gently scooped her up into his arms, saying, “Come on, we don’t have much time,” and he started carrying her down the stairs.

  “I can walk,” she proclaimed.

  “Not fast enough.”

  They rounded the corner to the family room, and Sarah couldn’t believe her eyes. The room was illuminated by at least fifty crystal candles that cluttered every flat surface. The dancing flames threw off intertwining refractions of light that shimmered on the ceiling and walls.

  Sarah, overwhelmed by the beauty of the lit room, said, “Wow, I can’t believe you did this. How did you pull this off?”

  Will set her down on the couch and, looking at her, inches from her face, he said, “Sarah, I have many talents.” He smirked playfully at her, then added in a serious tone, “I want to give you your Christmas present.”

  “But I don’t have your present. It’s back at the rental,” she admitted.

  “You are my present. I don’t need anything else,” he whispered and kissed the top of her head.

  “I do have something I can give you tonight, though. Would you get my purse?”

  Will rolled his eyes. “Really?” He shifted back and forth on his feet for several seconds before sprinting up the stairs. When he returned, he handed the purse to her, panting to catch his breath.

  “Close your eyes,” she said. “I haven’t wrapped it.”

  His lashes fanned across his cheeks as he held out his hands in front of him.

 

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