by Nicki Elson
Practicing her smiles had been a complete waste of time, and Maggie’s mouth dropped open as her eyes tensed in confusion. Carl turned on his stool to face her, swiveling hers so he could mold his knees to either side of her. Her jaw moved up and down as she struggled for what to say until Carl stopped her by gently grasping her hands.
“I don’t expect a response right away,” he said. “In fact, I’m not even sure I want one. I know I’ve hurt you, and I know I missed my second chance last spring, but I’ve been praying that it won’t be my only one. I told you we needed to think about the kids, and whether or not they could handle it not working out; what I didn’t say was that I wasn’t sure I could handle it either. Splitting up the first time was devastating; failing a second time…I was too afraid to risk it, especially after we both finally seemed to be doing okay.
“But when I walked in and saw you in the hospital room, that fear suddenly felt like nothing compared to the idea of losing you entirely. The doctors said you were stable, but you slept so long, it gave me time to worry that they might be wrong. I don’t want to live in a world without you, Maggie. And then that guy walked in and I saw the way you smiled at him…”
His hands slid down hers so that he was only lightly touching her fingertips, and his mouth tensed into a straight line. “I honestly just wanted to get through the holidays quietly, and I knew you needed time to get over your ordeal before I brought any of this up—I should probably have given you even more time, but I don’t know where things stand with you and this Evan, and I didn’t want to wait until things got more serious between you.”
“We’re just friends. Evan and I.”
“That didn’t look like the kind of smile you give to ‘just friends.’”
“Things got confusing for a while, but sincerely, he’s not a factor.”
Carl began running his fingertips along the bones at the back of Maggie’s hands. “I’m glad to hear that. But I take it from your tone that there are other factors.”
“You’re not the only one who gets scared. What if all you’re feeling is relief that I didn’t die? What if, a few months down the road, we forget all about this newfound friendship and slip back into the same old patterns?”
“What if we ‘what if’ ourselves for the rest of our lives and then suddenly it’s too late?” Maggie frowned, and he took her face into both his hands, the deep blue of his irises focused unflinchingly on her. “I’m scared too, but you’re worth all the risks, Maggie. You’re worth it. That’s the only thing I’m sure of. Is that enough?”
“Why couldn’t you have been so sure eight months ago?”
His eyes didn’t waver. “That wasn’t the right time for us. Maybe I needed to have it easy with someone else to fully realize that wasn’t what I wanted. Who knows why?”
Maggie let her eyes drop but slowly brought them back up to him, conceding, “Guess I had a few things to go through myself.”
They stared at each other, and Maggie’s terror must’ve shown because Carl broke the silence to say, “I didn’t come here to pressure you into making any choices tonight. I just wanted you to know where I’m at—and I’ll be in the same place weeks, months from now. As long as it takes.”
She nodded as much as his hold on her would allow, and his rugged, handsome, wonderful face blurred as a sheen of tears welled in her eyes. “I’ve never stopped loving you,” she told him, her hands moving to grasp onto his legs, just above his knees. “And God knows I tried. So that’s got to mean something, doesn’t it? But I do need time to think about this, if you’re honestly willing to give it to me.”
“Of course, of course.” His voice got misty, and he pulled her head to rest at the crook of his neck while he peppered kisses onto her forehead. “Whatever you need. I love you. I’ll wait forever if I have to.”
Maggie let him hold her for a bit, and then she pulled back and wiped her eyes. “Early day tomorrow. So I should probably walk you out. We’ll talk again this weekend, okay?”
“Okay.” He wiped his thumbs over her remaining trails of tears and gave her one last kiss on the top of her head before sliding to his feet and holding a hand out to her. They walked together toward the front door with Carl leading, and on the way, Evan’s words strummed through Maggie’s head: Stop trying to control what you feel and just feel it. Trust.
When they were just beyond the bottom stair, she squeezed Carl’s hand and stopped. He turned, and she held her a finger to her lips, pulling him all the way back to the great room. Once there, he didn’t even get a chance to ask her what was going on before she threw her arms around his neck and crushed her lips to his. His mouth was stiff at first, but quickly yielded and they melted into each other, with no words needed for Maggie to let him know that her choice had been made.
The necessity of breathing eventually caused them to reemerge, but they continued to pelt each other with tiny kisses. “Thanks for giving me the time I needed,” Maggie whispered in between.
“No problem,” Carl said, lightly touching her lips with his and then going in for something slower and more penetrating.
They moved to the couch, kissing and rubbing noses, and giggling every once in a while. But it would be a few weeks before they retested the lock on Maggie’s bedroom door. The circumstances of the past year had served many purposes, not the least of which was to bring Maggie’s family back together. As she and Carl snuggled on the sofa that night, a reel began playing in her mind—of family vacations, graduations, anniversaries, and holidays—but she stopped it. She had no idea what was ahead for them, and she was certain it wouldn’t all be happily ever after, but she knew this was right, and as for the rest, she’d just have to trust.
The End
Acknowledgments
And now for the very best part—in which I get to count my blessings. Immeasurable gratitude to the following people, none of whom I deserve, but all of whom I’ll keep:
Colleen Wagner, a constant source of strength and encouragement. Brandon, who persisted in saying, “Mom, you should get Three Daves published,” long after I’d given up on the idea. Mia, who patiently and earnestly listens—if angels could be human, they’d all be her. Rick, for not stopping me, even when he thought (knew) I was crazy. Frank and Joyce Keough, whose pride by far eclipses any embarrassment over their daughter’s naughtiness.
For this book in particular, I thank Kathy Jaffer for inviting me into her home for the coolest Bible study group ever—our early discussions were the seeds from which this story grew. John Wharem, who was willing and able to wade through the muck of my first draft with an objective eye and sage advice and who has prayed me through many a meltdown since. Leslie Waterson, who gave me Prairie Oaks. Patti and Kevin Foss for generously pre-reading and providing feedback. Kelly Keough, who’s been a particularly wonderful cheerleader as well as a willing ear. Suze, the girl wizard, whose steady, rational voice pulled me up during my lowest moments.
Elizabeth Harper, rock star visionary, who’s taken a chance on me more than once. The Omnific team of editors and marketers who lent their skills to this book: Emma Taylor, CJ Creel, Coreen Montagna, Micha Stone, Amy Brokaw, editor Jennifer DeLucy, who saw what I myself could not, and publicist Traci Olsen, for her perpetual enthusiasm even when I know I’m being a pain in the bum. I’m especially grateful to the amazing Kimberly Blythe, head editor, who didn’t hesitate to take on more than was her due and was truly a blessing to this story and to me.
To the book club hostesses who were so welcoming and fun, they made me want to write another book just to get invited back again, especially Colleen Miller-Owen, Cindy Downey, Jane Kramer, Colleen Sabol, Connie Whitesell, Jean Myers, Meg Schreiber, Linda Zacchea, and Judy Dainko. The staff of Eastern Illinois University, who’ve been beyond supportive with Three Daves, especially Janice Hunt, Dr. Allen Lanham, Karen Whisler, Jana Aydt, and Arlene Brown.
And to everyone in my life who still talks to me and graciously ignores the months and months of being negle
cted while my head is in the clouds and my fingers at the keyboard.
About the Author
Writing wasn’t something Nicki set out to do; it just sort of happened when she realized writing reports was by far her favorite part of her investment consulting position. She traded stock allocation and diversification for story arcs and dialogue and now weaves creative writing time into her busy life with her family in the Chicago suburbs.
Nicki writes with two goals in mind: #1 to keep the characters realistic, even when their circumstances are anything but, and #2 to make the reader feel. Her other published works include contemporary romance novel, Three Daves, and short stories “Sway” (available as a single), “I Don’t Do Valentine’s Day” (part of A Valentine Anthology), and “Impressionism 101” (included in the debut issue of Insatiable: The Magazine of Paranormal Desire).
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Table of Contents
Cover
title page
Copyright Information
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Acknowledgments
About the Author
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Coming Soon From Omnific Publishing