Just Destiny

by Theresa Rizzo

  “Do you want to tell Josh and Sophie now?” he asked.

  “No.” She couldn’t resist one hurtful jab. “Ryan and I will tell them tonight.”

  Steve scowled and looked like he wanted to argue.

  Don’t even go there, buster. They’re my kids.

  “What’re you going to tell them? I don’t want them to think this is their fault.”

  “I don’t know.” She shoved a hand through her hair. She was still taking it in; she had no idea what she’d tell the kids. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you out to be the bad guy. I’ll tell them…” How could she simplify something so complex?

  Steve looked at her, waiting. She sighed, winging it. “We’ll say something like…it had nothing to do with them—there were a lot of adult reasons…You still love them…but you just can’t be around anymore.

  “Maybe we’ll go to Florida for Christmas—it’ll be a great distraction and help them forget…” “You” seemed unnecessarily cruel. At least she still had her kids; Steve had nobody.

  His face had become a handsome blank mask she couldn’t read. “Would it be okay if I took them to the park or sledding, and eased out of their lives?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” It’d be painful seeing Steve—she’d prefer a clean break, but what would be best for Josh and Sophie? She’d see what Ryan thought. “I’ll think about it.”

  He nodded and turned to leave.

  “Wait!” She looked down at the beautiful, sparkling diamond winking up at her and twisted it off. She held the amazing engagement ring out to him. “Here.”

  He shook his head. “Keep it.”

  She paused, tempted, then grabbed his hand, pressed the ring into his palm and folded his fingers around it. Keeping his ring would make her look mercenary. “I don’t want it anymore.”

  Annie swiped at hot tears and turned to run back to the warm house.

  * * *

  Steve drove around awhile. Not ready to go home yet, he parked at the Yacht club. Looking toward the barren dock reminded him of Ryan, so he left the property and walked along the lake. Maybe if he burned off some energy and cleared his head, this would all make sense.

  He probably should be relieved, but he wasn’t. Anger burned in his gut and sadness weighted down his shoulders. He’d sensed for a while that he and Annie weren’t right, but he’d ignored the signs. He’d wanted marriage to Annie to work, damn it. Even knowing he didn’t love her and she didn’t love him, he’d ignored the fleeting thought that he could be her rebound relationship and had forged forward with his plan.

  Annie was right; he’d made sure she wouldn’t turn him down. His lips tightened in self-loathing. He’d carefully calculated his proposal, making it impossible for her to say no. The large diamond in his pocket poked his thigh with each step. From the impressive ring to the band and the public proposal on TV…she’d never had a chance.

  Emotional bullying is what it was, you asshole. You’ve got no one to blame but yourself.

  And to make matters worse, he’d dragged Josh and Sophie into it. He’d really fallen for those munchkins. They were good kids; they didn’t deserve this. He should have been more careful. The last thing in the world he’d ever want to do was hurt them. Shit.

  They’ll get over you. Don’t flatter yourself; you’re not all that great. Besides, they have Ryan.

  Probably. Kids were resilient. Josh and Sophie were young. And Ryan was stepping up. It wouldn’t be long before he was just a faint memory of a fun guy that passed through their lives. How depressing. He let out another deep breath and closed his eyes one long moment. He’d remember them always.

  Steve stopped his march along the shoreline, turned into the wind and faced the lake. He’d set himself up for failure. Failing again left the bitter taste in his mouth. He blew out a deep breath. Bending, he picked up a stone and threw it as far into the choppy gray waters as he could. He threw another and another until his arm ached. He embraced the pain in his shoulder; serve him right if he tore his rotator again. His doctor would be pissed. He could join the crowd.

  Fucking shit! First Jenny and now Annie. Gabe and then Ryan. He was so damn tired of coming in second—of being second best. Yet he kept making the same damn mistake. He rolled his head and thrust his hands deep into his pant pockets. Was he a masochist or what? Why’d he keep choosing emotionally unavailable women? Why keep setting himself up for failure?

  Would he never learn? God damn it.

  Enough. Enough pity. Enough women. He was going to forget about relationships and concentrate on something rational, something he could be successful at, something simple…like the law.

  Steve spun on his heels, stalked back to his car, and headed into work.

  Chapter 17

  Christmas Eve day found Jenny in the basement surrounded by bags of gifts, wrapping paper and bows. She turned on Christmas music and made hot cocoa, determined to embrace the spirit of Christmas—or consumerism, as it were. As if pretty packages and rich food could distract her from missing Gabe.

  Not helpful, Jen. Be grateful for the blessings you have.

  She bit her lower lip and redoubled her efforts in tying the intricate bow on Alex’s present. Alex would appreciate the prettily wrapped gift. Jenny peeled away the label and stuck it on. Snatching up the pen, her hand hovered over the sticker a minute before dropping to the tabletop. After a lengthy mental debate, she scrawled “Jenny,” swiped away an errant tear and set the wrapped gifts aside without adding Gabe’s name.

  Next she packaged up Gabe’s stethoscope and tennis racquet for Ted and signed the tag, “Love, Dad.” For Alex, Jenny had framed a favorite picture of Gabe and Alex taken last spring break in Cancun. For her other “Dad” present, Jenny had the perfect gift in mind. She drew Gabe’s watch from her pocket.

  Jenny caressed the smooth, gold metal back, remembering how Gabe had worn it every day. Lovely and reliable and Gabe’s. She put it in a soft cloth bag, then into a square box. Alex had teased Gabe constantly about using the old relic, but Jenny knew she treasured it. She smiled and patted the package. Alex will love you well.

  Jenny nodded in satisfaction, happy to have found a positive way to include Gabe.

  Christmas Eve Jenny shared dinner with Judith’s family, Alex and Ted. She found a few minutes to pull Gabe’s kids aside to give them their gifts. Ted nodded gratefully as he fingered the strings on Gabe’s racquet, then immediately draped Gabe’s stethoscope around his neck as soon as he freed it from the box, but it was Alex’s reaction that had been everything Jenny could have hoped for.

  When Alex opened her father’s watch, she’d pursed her lips and batted back tears before grabbing Jenny in a fierce hug, whispering, “Thank you.” The kids’ appreciative reactions shamed her, making her feel like she’d been hording Gabe’s things. Well, no more. She invited the kids over to dinner and to go through Gabe’s things to see if they wanted any more mementos of their dad.

  A little after nine, Jenny gathered Ritz and scooted over to her parent’s house. For the first time in years, Jenny awoke Christmas morning in her old childhood room.

  She was pretty sure Michael had set his alarm for six a.m.—no teenager naturally woke that early—even if Santa still came for him. Michael’s enthusiasm was a tad overplayed, but it was contagious and before long Jenny couldn’t help responding in kind. Surprisingly, she didn’t have to fake it. Jenny had always loved Christmas and making her family happy never failed to lift her spirits.

  Though she appreciated the busy, familiar Christmas day routine of presents, church and brunch, followed by afternoon football and early dinner, Jenny was happy to be home. She wrapped herself in old flannel pajamas and Gabe’s terry robe before meandering downstairs out onto the enclosed porch. Strategically placed lighting illuminated the softly falling snow. Six inches of new snow blanketed the ground like fluffy white feathers.

  It had never snowed on Christmas day while she and Gabe lived here. Their first snowfal
l together in this house, Gabe brought home two huge plastic disks. He’d covered her eyes, led her outside and sat her on one, then given her a big push. She’d gone sailing down the hill and nearly into the lake.

  She took a deep breath. The pain in her stomach had eased with time and regular meals. Since Judith’s visit, Jenny had gone out of her way to take care of herself. She’d regained much of the weight she’d lost, so she had breasts again. She still had trouble sleeping, but she’d bought a treadmill. She walked every night, sometimes five miles, before following up with a hot lavender bubble bath that usually helped her sleep.

  She’d made an appointment with the fertility specialist Judith recommended, for after the holidays. Although that might be a moot point if Jenny couldn’t get an attorney to represent her, or worse yet, if she lost her case. She wandered into the living room and turned on the Christmas tree lights. Alex had brought her a noble fir, insisting that Gabe would have wanted Jenny to celebrate her favorite holiday.

  Sitting Indian style in front of the colorful twinkling lights, Jenny allowed emotions she’d held at bay all day to swamp her. Tears blurred the colorful reds, blues, greens, oranges, and whites, till they blended like a kaleidoscope and the crisp pine scent transported her back to the intimate talks she and Gabe had shared, sitting in the dark near the tree, softly discussing life…love…their future.

  She pulled her knees up, hugging them close, missing Gabe’s strong arms. Christmas was romantic—a time for sharing and celebrating life with special people. But her special person was gone. Cold loneliness consumed her, carving her out like a hollow shell, empty and alone. Tears dribbled down her cheeks. Ritz whined and lay her head on Jenny’s foot.

  When a knock sounded at the back door, Jenny got up and grabbed a tissue. On her way through the kitchen, she wiped her tears and blew her nose. Knowing it was pointless to try and pretend she hadn’t been crying, she clutched a hand full of tissues and let Steve in. Not even attempting a smile, she backed away from the door.

  Dressed in dark blue slacks, a sweater, and loafers, he’d probably just gotten home from dinner with his family—or maybe Annie’s.

  “Driveway looks good.” He brushed some snow off his shoulders and shut the door behind him. “You shovel it?”

  She shook her head. “Michael.”

  Steve took in her disheveled appearance and shifted a gold box sporting an elaborate bow in his hand. “I can leave if you want me to.”

  Jenny blew her nose again and shook her head. Sitting around feeling sorry for herself hadn’t made her feel any better. Besides, Jenny was anxious to see how Steve liked his presents. She forced a wobbly smile. “Come on in.”

  She led Steve through the living room onto the patio, turning on the room lamps as she passed. The Christmas tree magic was her and Gabe’s special thing; she wasn’t ready to share it. On the couch, she tucked slipper-clad feet under her. “Why does everyone say that crying’s good for you? It always makes me feel like shit. My eyes get all gritty and my stomach kills. Wha’s so good about it?”

  Steve shrugged. “Got me. Makes me feel like I’ve got the flu and a hangover at the same time. Maybe because crying’s a physical release and it exhausts you?”

  She blew out a deep breath through her mouth since her nose was stuffed. “’S not worth it.”

  “I agree.”

  She threw the used tissues on the coffee table. “I am sooo tired of crying.”

  “It’s getting easier.”

  “Slowly.”

  He sat down next to her and jostled the wrapped box in his hand awkwardly. “This might cheer you up.”

  She retrieved Steve’s presents from under the tree and handed them to him. “Merry Christmas.”

  Jenny lifted his gift and gently shook it. “What is it?”

  “Open it.”

  She pulled the ribbon and bow aside then ripped the wrapping off to reveal a beautiful wooden music box with a picture of Gabe, Jenny, and Steve encased in the lid. Out on the boat, a grinning Gabe sat between Jenny and Steve with an arm thrown around each. When she raised the lid, it played James Taylor’s “You’ve got a friend.” Jenny gasped and put a trembling hand to her mouth. How sweet.

  “Gabe was the best friend I ever had.” Steve cleared his throat. “We had some great times together. I don’t want to forget our friendship—either of us.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered and stroked the polished wood.

  “You missed something.” He opened the lid and pointed to the cream business card nestled on top of the maroon velvet lining.

  Jenny fingered the crisp card with embossed black script. “Helen Johnson, Attorney at Law?”

  “Your attorney. If you want her.” He paused. “Helen’s been retired a few years, but when I explained your case, she was intrigued and agreed to meet you.”

  “How’d you find her?”

  “She’s the mother of a baseball buddy. I helped her son out of a little trouble years ago.”

  “You called in a favor, for me?” Tears swamped Jenny’s eyes, stinging her aching sockets.

  “Don’t make too much of it. Being a bit out of practice, she’s not the most ideal attorney for you, but she has a solid track record and she’s sharp.”

  “And she’s willing. That’s the amazing part.”

  “Call her. See if you can work with her.”

  “You got me an attorney for Christmas?” She frowned and pursed her trembling lips. “Even after the terrible things Judith said to you.”

  Steve looked away. A flush crept up his neck. “She was right. A part of me is afraid of losing. Maybe I’m a coward, but losing for you would be a lot worse than if it were just me.” He shook his head. “I won’t risk it.”

  “You got me an attorney.” Jenny covered her mouth with one hand and sniffled. She grasped the lapels of her robe and closed them tightly around her neck, needing the comfort.

  “Helen might not be what you want,” he warned.

  “I can’t exactly afford to be picky. And you’d never recommend someone incompetent. I’m sure she’ll be perfect.” She smiled brightly, touched by his gifts. “Thank you so much. They’re both wonderful.”

  Jenny hugged him close as she’d done a hundred times before, but this time she detected a wariness—almost stiffness—in this embrace that had never been there before. Prior to Gabe’s death, Steve’s big body had been nothing more than a comforting brother-shoulder to cry on; now, something was different.

  Backing away, Jenny pushed aside the observation and smiled regretfully at her own gift. “Your present isn’t nearly so special.”

  Successful people fascinated Steve, so she’d thought he’d enjoy reading Bill Gates, Michael Eisner’s, and Steve Jobs’s biographies.

  Ripping into them like an eager boy, he carefully examined each hardback, reading the jackets and first pages. “How’d you get Bill Gates’s signature?”

  She flashed a wry smile. “I waited a very long time, in a very long line, on a very hot day outside Barnes and Noble when he was in town last summer.”

  Steve nodded, eyes still glued to the books, then looked up and slowly smiled. A lopsided smile so beautiful it pulled at her heartstrings. “Thank you. It’s great.”

  “Too bad you’ll breeze through them in a week or two.”

  “I’ll read them again.”

  “After I do. The one about Gates sounds interesting.”

  He chuckled. “If you’ve had it that long, I’m surprised you didn’t already read it.”

  “Before you? That’d be rude.” Jenny handed him a long, slim, flat box. “This is from me and Gabe.”

  “You and Gabe, eh?” He tapped the light box in his hand and raised an eyebrow. “You got me a tie?”

  “Just open it.”

  Steve flipped the lid off and stared at the box. “Red Wing tickets?” He stared in awe at the pack of season tickets.

  “He’d want you to have them. I would have given them to you earlie
r, but I only found them last week.”

  He carefully folded the tissue paper over the red tickets, put the lid on and handed it to her. “This is too much. I can’t accept it.”

  “Yes, you can. You love hockey. For god’s sake, you’ve practically got a shrine to Wayne Gretzky in your rec room.”

  His arm dropped to his lap. “That was your and Gabe’s thing.”

  “Not really. I never really liked hockey.”

  “Yes, you did.” He tilted his head and narrowed his eye, clearly skeptical. “You never missed a game.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. I just went for him.”

  “Gabe thought you were a diehard fan.”

  She shuddered. “Too violent. Now if they got rid of checking…”

  “Nobody would go.” Steve stared at the oblong box several seconds, then lifted his head. A deep frown contrasted with the hope and excitement gleaming in his eyes.

  “Enjoy. Freeze your butt off. Revel in the violence.”

  “Sooo I take it you’re not going to go with me.”

  “Not a chance. Take Annie.” Jenny couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips, hoping it didn’t look as evil as she felt.

  “Hockey’s hardly Annie’s thing.”

  She widened her eyes in innocence. “No?”

  He reopened the box, his gaze settling on the tickets, and he absentmindedly shook his head. “Row six, section one twenty-four? That’s right on the blue line. Thanks, Jen.”

  “You’re welcome.” She smiled, glad he was pleased with the gift.

  Jenny ran a finger around the edge of the gold-trimmed business card while studying the picture of the three of them. She looked up and caught Steve watching, a wistful but contented look in his blue eyes. Lord, he was a handsome man. A good man. He deserved to be happy.

  “How’re the wedding plans coming along?”

  “They’re not. We called it off.”

  “What?” She must have heard wrong.

  “Called it off.” Steve methodically smoothed the red tissue paper back across the tickets and fitted the gold lid back on the box. He lifted his head and met her gaze. “She wasn’t ready to give up her ex-husband, and I wasn’t willing to be that accommodating—even if he is the father of her children.”