The First Kiss of Spring

by Emily March

  Minutes ticked by as Josh sat without moving. It wasn’t my fault? Did he really say that? Did he really believe it? Do I?

  To a point, yes. He’d been thrown into the deep end by parents who should have done better by him. He had managed to avoid drowning and he crawled his way back onto solid ground. He could do it again—couldn’t he?

  If it meant a future with Caitlin …

  When he finally stood, his hamburger sat like a rock in his gut. The craving that had subsided during the conversation with Mac returned, crawling on spider’s legs up his spine.

  A light snow fell from the darkening sky and muffled the sound of traffic on the street. Josh shoved his bare hands into his pockets and sucked in a deep breath, filling his lungs with bitter air and in the process, reminding himself of his illness and that his bones had yet to completely heal. Shivering, he started to walk, not toward his car but toward the building two blocks away where a red neon sign read URGENT CARE.

  The moisture leaking from the corners of his eyes was a reaction to the cold, not tears. Not tears.

  My daughter gave you the most valuable gift in existence. She gave you her heart. Treasure it. Cherish it. Be worthy of it.

  “God, help me.”

  The clinic’s automatic doors swung open and Josh stepped inside. The receptionist smiled at him. “May I help you?”

  “Which physician is working tonight?”

  “Dr. Cicero has this evening’s shift.”

  Not Alvarado. Does it matter? I like Rose. She might be easier to talk to. “I’d like to see her, please.”

  The receptionist handed him a clipboard. “Please fill out this paperwork and return it to me when you’re done. It’s been a slow evening so far. You shouldn’t have too long a wait.”

  “Thank you.”

  Within ten minutes, he was called back to Exam Room Three. A nurse took his vital signs and asked the reason for his visit. “I’d rather wait and explain to the doctor, please.”

  “All right. Dr. Cicero will be in shortly.”

  He listened to a baby crying in a room across the hall and stared unseeing at a poster of the digestive system. A few minutes later, the door opened and Rose Cicero stepped inside. “Hello, Josh. I hope you’re not here to tell me you’ve injured your poor ribs again.”

  “No. No, that’s not it.” Josh raked his fingers through his hair. “Rose, I’m in trouble. The pain pills have become a problem for me. I should have told Dr. Alvarado. I … need help.”

  He exhaled hard, shut his eyes, and confessed, “I’m an addict.”

  Journal Entry

  I can’t remember the last time I was this afraid.

  Maybe the night my father died? Or the time when I was eight and realized my mother had left me alone in the house when she went off to Paris with a lover? Perhaps it was the first time I woke up from a heroin overdose. Whatever. I don’t guess it matters. Suffice to say that I’m pretty damn scared.

  Because I have hope again.

  Hope. It’s a crazy deal. It can be small as a pinprick but more powerful than a hundred-thousand-candle-power flashlight.

  I went by her house. Stood outside in the snow, watching the warm light in her window. She saw me. For a long moment, our gazes met and held. She didn’t invite me in. I didn’t knock on her door.

  I’m afraid I should have left well enough alone.

  Chapter Twenty

  It snowed almost every day for the next week, but the storm never intensified to the blizzard conditions meteorologists had predicted. On Gingerbread House’s opening day, the sun shone in a brilliant blue sky and made the icicles hanging from the eaves sparkle like diamonds.

  For the most part, the children who arrived for their first day of “school” were delighted. As to be expected, a few of the little ones cried and clung, but Caitlin and her team had been ready with distractions. At the end of the day when she’d shared a glass of celebratory champagne with her staff, everyone agreed that the opening had been a smashing success.

  If Caitlin regretted that a certain someone had not been there to share the moment with her, well …

  “His loss,” she said as she turned out the lights and locked the door behind her. She made it a point not to glance next door as she made her way home.

  That didn’t mean she didn’t keep an eye on his house and business throughout each day. She couldn’t help herself. Her office windows gave her a bird’s-eye view and besides, the man was outside all of the time.

  The first time she’d seen him shoveling snow, she’d almost marched outside to scold him. That couldn’t be good for his ribs, could it? But an Internet search and a count of the weeks since the accidents reassured her. Still, when she saw him tackle Harriet’s drive, she couldn’t help but fret that he was overdoing it.

  He also went on walks. A lot of them. It seemed like every time she happened to glance his direction he was either coming or going from his house or garage. She told herself it was his way of dealing with the loneliness in his life now that she wasn’t a daily part of it. She even believed that. A little bit, anyway.

  Her brother Stephen made it home for his visit, and she proudly gave him a tour of Gingerbread House. “This is great, sis,” he told her. “You’ve knocked it out of the park. I’ll admit I agreed with Mom’s viewpoint that you were making a mistake by moving home and opening this business. I was wrong.”

  She linked her arm with his and gave him a patronizing pat. “Coming from you, those three little words mean so much.”

  “Brat.”

  “I love you too.”

  The entire family gathered that night up at Heartache Falls for Stephen’s welcome home dinner. It was a fun, relaxing evening full of laughter and teasing and reminiscing and, of course, fabulous food. She and Lori and Chase had come prepared to stay overnight in case the forecasted heavy snowstorm transpired. When it came time to leave, the sky was clear, but Ali so wanted all her chicks beneath the same roof for just one night that nobody could tell her no. The promise of Belgian waffles for breakfast sealed the deal. When Caitlin climbed into bed, for the first time in weeks she didn’t feel lonely.

  Family truly was the best medicine.

  * * *

  Lying in bed next to his peacefully sleeping wife in the master bedroom, her father’s thoughts followed a similar path as he reflected upon the evening. He’d enjoyed talking about the old neighborhood with the kids. They’d brought up instances and events that he hadn’t thought of in years. The night had been a gift. More than once he’d looked around the room and sent up a prayer of thanksgiving for his family and the love they shared.

  It would give them strength in the days ahead.

  With the snow coming down heavy and the promise of Ali’s Belgian waffles in the morning, they’d all agreed to overnight here at the house. Mac decided that tomorrow after breakfast, he was going to tell them about the diagnosis.

  It made sense to do it now while Stephen was home. The appointment was a little over two weeks away, so they wouldn’t be on pins and needles for long. Plus, he’d been squirming a bit ever since his conversation with Tarkington had touched on lies. Caitlin would not be happy with him. Technically he hadn’t lied to her when he said the doctors had found nothing, but that wasn’t the whole story. He’d promised to her face that he’d tell her as soon as anything was confirmed, but she would recognize it for the dodge that it had been. Although since he was dying, she’d probably let him off the hook.

  Mac drifted off to sleep feeling more content than he had in months and awoke just after dawn the following morning—feeling frisky. He looked at his wife and as he had done so often during their close to forty years of marriage, he marveled at her beauty and the fact that despite his having been a penniless Oklahoma boy with a hardscrabble past, she’d chosen to spend her life with him.

  He dipped his head and kissed her shoulder, then nibbled his way to her neck. He had her naked and panting even before he seduced her from sleep, and he
made sweet love to her until they both lay sated and replete.

  He held her, gently stroking a finger up and down her arm, reluctant to break the joy of the moment, but knowing he must. “I’m going to tell them, Alison.”

  She slowly stiffened. Almost half a minute passed before she asked, “When?”

  “This morning.”

  She drew in a deep breath, then exhaled in a rush. “Oh, Mac.”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s good. I’m glad you’ve made this decision. It needs to happen. You … actually both of us … can use their support.”

  They showered and dressed and went downstairs together. Mac fried the bacon while Ali tackled waffles, and as the kids wandered downstairs and to the coffee bar, a bittersweet combination of sadness and pride filled Mac. He glanced at Ali. She was looking back at him. In the way of couples long together, they communicated without words.

  We did good.

  Yes, we did.

  I wish I didn’t have to share this burden with them.

  I know, but it’s time. A shared burden is more easily borne.

  When breakfast was finished, the younger generation rose to tend the dishes. Mac took Ali’s hand and said, “I’m going to start a fire in the family room. When you’re done, join us there, would you please? You mother and I have some news to share.”

  The boys didn’t appear to pick up on the note of tension in Mac’s voice, but the way Caitlin’s sharp gaze darted toward her mother’s told Mac that his daughter had noticed. Ali kept her smile serene and pretended not to see. Mac felt the tremble in her hand as he tugged her from the kitchen.

  Mac and Ali’s home had three fireplaces, two of which were outfitted with gas logs. The family room fireplace had been designed as Mac’s plaything. Like so many men, he enjoyed playing with fire. Ali took her customary seat on the sofa while he stacked the kindling and nursed a flame to life. By the time the kids wandered in, he had a nice fire burning.

  Mac held out his hand toward Ali and she rose and stood beside him, their hands clasped. Seated on the sofa, Caitlin shifted nervously.

  Mac drew a deep breath and began. “A number of months ago, I began to notice weakness in my right hand, some tingling and twitches. I figured I had a pinched nerve. When the symptoms worsened and my left hand became involved, I saw a doctor. He identified a whole list of possibilities and he ordered a battery of tests.” Mac glanced at Caitlin and added, “They didn’t find anything, but they ruled out cancer, which had been my biggest fear.”

  “Dad,” Stephen began.

  “Let me finish, son, and then I’ll answer questions. I was a referred to a specialist and eventually ended up at a hospital in Boston. In October, we were given a tentative diagnosis. However, due to the fact that this condition is one that is diagnosed by eliminating other issues rather than pinpointing something wrong, we were told to wait six months. So I have an appointment next month for reevaluation and at that point, they’ll know if their suspicions are correct.”

  “What suspicions, Dad?” Caitlin burst out. “Bottom-line it, would you please?”

  He nodded, squeezed Ali’s hand tight, and broke his children’s hearts. “It’s ALS. Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis.”

  Stephen dropped his chin to his chest. Chase shoved to his feet and paced the room. Lori covered her mouth with her hands, and Caitlin gazed from one to the other with a panicked lack of understanding. “What is ALS?”

  Stephen and Chase spoke simultaneously. “Lou Gehrig’s disease.”

  That, Mac’s daughter recognized. She curled her feet up under her and slumped back against the sofa cushions in an abbreviated fetal position as the cloud of an incurable, fatal diagnosis settled over the room.

  Chase burst out. “Tentative! You said tentative. So you don’t know for sure. It’s not one hundred percent.”

  “That’s right,” Ali responded. “We still have hope and I actually have a good feeling about it. Even if we do get bad news, medicine is making strides in slowing down the effects of the disease. The FDA recently approved a new medicine that does that.”

  In a quiet tone, Stephen asked, “All this time and you didn’t tell us?”

  “Yes.” Mac rubbed the back of his neck. “I wanted to spare you. The waiting is … hard.”

  “I understand how you might feel that way, but it’s dishonest. That’s not the way you raised us.”

  Mac glanced toward his wife. Her gaze clearly said, I told you so. But as he surveyed the pain on the faces of his children, he knew he wouldn’t change a thing.

  Chase asked, “When is your appointment, Dad?”

  “March twentieth.”

  “The first day of spring,” Lori said. She rose from her seat and crossed the room to her husband. Wrapping her arms around him in a comforting hug, she said, “I’m going to take that as a good sign.”

  Wearing a watery smile, Ali leaned into Mac. “That’s an excellent point, Lori. It reminds me of something Celeste would say.”

  For a time during the past five months, Mac had given hope the good old college try. He’d never managed to pull it off. What he’d found during recent weeks was acceptance. The Timberlake family would mourn him, but they would be okay. Stephen and his family were settled in Texas and thriving. Chase had finally found his way home to Lori, and Caitlin, well, it was good that she’d moved home to Colorado. Ali would have her to lean on and vice versa. If Tarkington ever pulled his head out, he’d be there for them too.

  One by one, Mac gazed at his family. The loves of his life. A fine life. A life well lived.

  Yes, he’d done good.

  * * *

  Sweat poured down Josh’s face as he finished the cool-down portion of his workout on the elliptical. He was whipped, sadly out of shape, and weak as a kitten. Nevertheless, he felt better than he had in months.

  His ribs still ached and he needed to be careful when he wielded the snow shovel, but due to the medicines Dr. Rose Cicero had prescribed and the support system she’d help him find, the pain and, more importantly, the cravings were under control. He should have gone to Rose with his problem weeks ago.

  The cool down complete, he headed for the shower. Having slept in, he was getting a late start today, though it was a different type of sleep from the heavy, lethargic kind he’d suffered of late. Rather than awakening tired, he’d greeted the morning feeling rested—a true blessing.

  He stripped and climbed into the steaming shower where he indulged in an extended stay. A long hot shower on a cold morning was one of the good things in life and something to be appreciated. When he reached the stage just short of prune, he lathered up and rinsed, then reached for his shampoo.

  He accidentally picked up Caitlin’s instead. Because she’d been using the guest bathroom since the accident, she’d missed it when she’d packed. This bottle had occupied his shower since they’d become lovers last fall.

  He probably should give it back to her. Salon shampoos were stupid expensive. He just couldn’t make himself do it. When he flipped open the lid and sniffed it, he could almost pretend that she was again sharing the shower with him.

  Later while he dressed, his thoughts turned to that exchange with her father. He wondered if in the fog of his hunger for relief, he’d imagined the conversation. Had Mac Timberlake really given Josh his blessing where Caitlin was concerned?

  Nah, Josh must have been delirious.

  Wearing a gray Broncos sweatshirt and jeans, he strolled to his kitchen where Penny lay sleeping in her plastic clothes-basket bed. She lifted her head at his entrance. “Good morning, girl. You ready to get up and rolling?”

  As he carried her outside, he planned the day ahead. He had three snowmobiles waiting for tune-ups that he planned to tackle first. Depending on how those went, he might jump into the ATV engine overhauls that Cam Murphy had dropped off late last week. The goal was to stay busy keeping his body and mind occupied. Then tonight, he would attend the twelve-step group that met three times a week at
St. Stephen’s.

  It was a very small group. Last night, he’d been one of only four people to show up. It had been hard to walk into the room the first time because the anonymity offered by the city-based groups he’d attended in the past wasn’t available in a town the size of Eternity Springs. But he’d been welcomed and supported, and he’d left the meeting encouraged and wondering why in the hell he hadn’t looked for a meeting weeks ago.

  Of course, he knew the answer. He hadn’t wanted to betray his secret to Caitlin.

  With a sigh, Josh set Penny down and let her scamper in the snow, which continued to fall in fat flakes, laying a soft, silent blanket of white upon the land. Spring seemed so very far away.

  Penny chased a squirrel into a tree, but when she turned her attention to the woodpile, Josh called a halt to the play. He dried her with a towel, then carried her inside and placed her into her wheelchair. “Do you know what today is, sweetheart? It’s canned dog food Saturday.”

  He wasn’t positive that she recognized the words for her weekly treat, but she did make an excited lap around the kitchen while he filled her dog bowl. Then with the dog tended to, he saw to his own breakfast, talking to her as had become his habit of late. It made the house seem less lonely. “I think it’s an oatmeal kind of day, Penny, don’t you?”

  He dawdled over breakfast and for the first time in months read the online versions of the three newspapers to which he subscribed—the Wall Street Journal, the Denver Post, and the weekly Eternity Times. Perusing the ad for the Trading Post grocery store, he made a mental note to stock up on the New York strips that were on sale. A man could never have too many steaks in the freezer, especially now that his appetite had returned.

  When he finished his breakfast and loaded his dirty dishes into the dishwasher, he realized he almost felt like a normal person again. That’s why when someone knocked on his front door, he answered it with a smile on his face. The smile immediately died. “Caitlin? What’s wrong?”

  She gazed at him with tormented eyes. “Josh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here. But … I need you. It’s Dad. Before, he said it wasn’t a big deal. But at breakfast this morning … he told us … oh, Josh, he told us that he’s dying.”