The Christmas He Loved Her

by Juliana Stone

  “I got her to bed but didn’t want to leave her alone, so I slept on the sofa.”

  “Did you get any sleep?”

  Jake’s gaze rose to just above her head. He couldn’t look his mother in the eye and lie, and he sure as hell didn’t feel like sharing the pain and nightmares that visited him during the night.

  “Yeah,” he said simply. “I got a few hours.” Silence wrapped around all of them and he flashed a smile—one that belied a state of mind he didn’t feel at all.

  “So.” He arched a brow. “Black Friday?”

  His mother linked her arm through his dad’s and nodded, a smile once more leaving her eyes glistening. A smile that lightened him inside, if only for a moment.

  “Sounds great,” he murmured, ignoring the satisfied look on Lily’s face. “Guess I should shower, then.”

  Chapter 8

  Marnie brought Gibson home Saturday evening, and though it took everything Raine had just to drag her butt out of bed, when Marnie asked for a hot cup of tea, she didn’t have the heart to say no.

  While her mother-in-law plugged in the kettle, Raine splashed some water onto her face, threw on an old faded gray sweatshirt that hung nearly to her knees, and scraped her hair back into a messy ponytail. The sweatshirt had been Jesse’s—sent back with his things—and after his funeral she’d worn it to bed for weeks.

  Raine smoothed the soft and thinned fabric. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn it and just now had grabbed only it because it was the next clean thing in her drawer.

  With a sigh she glanced outside. It was after six, dark as sin, and the wind howled as it swept by her home. Being this close to the lake didn’t afford much shelter when the weather was bad, and it looked like another stormy night was in store.

  It didn’t bode well for the annual football game scheduled the next day in town, but Raine had no plans to attend, and even as the fleeting thought occurred to her, she moved on. She didn’t care.

  She returned to the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboard, looking for anything she could serve with tea. But there wasn’t much to choose from, and she tried to hide her embarrassment when all she could muster was an open box of shortbread cookies. Raine took a bite and made a face before throwing the entire contents into the garbage.

  “Sorry, Marnie. They’re a little stale.”

  “Oh, I’m fine, dear. We didn’t really get a chance to chat the other night, and I just wanted to see how you were doing. A spot of tea seemed like a good idea.”

  Raine avoided the woman’s probing gaze and fixed her tea, grateful that Jake hadn’t finished what little milk she had left. If she skimped a bit, there should be enough for the both of them. The date wasn’t the best, so she sniffed the carton first and then froze for a second as realization hit.

  I just sniffed the carton because I have no idea if this is usable.

  I’m serving my mother-in-law tea with milk that expired a week ago, and I don’t even have cookies to offer her, because they’re stale.

  A lump formed in her throat, one that took a bit of effort to clear, and the hot sting of tears settled in the corners of her eyes as she tossed her tea bag and cradled her mug between cold fingers.

  I’m a pathetic mess.

  “Don’t worry about the milk. I take it black, hon.”

  Raine nodded and set the carton of milk onto the counter. For the first time, she was going to take it black as well. She slid into the chair opposite Marnie, and the two women sat in silence for the longest time, each seeming to be lost in thought or maybe more than a little wary of what the other was feeling.

  The silence grew heavy, uncomfortable. It thickened and took shape, becoming so loud that it pressed on Raine’s ears and chest, and she exhaled loudly in an effort to alleviate the stress. She knew panic would set in if she didn’t manage to calm herself, so she stared at her fingers. At the chipped blue nails and the bruise still dark on her forefinger from when she caught it in the cupboard the day before. Or was it two days ago?

  “We’re worried about you, Raine.”

  Marnie’s quiet words nearly undid her—the tears in the corners of her eyes sharpened—but Raine stared down into her cup and forced them away. She swallowed the lump in her throat and slowly exhaled. The abyss she’d been sidestepping for the last year and a half was closer than ever. It would be so easy to just step into it, and yet…

  She stirred her tea, even though it didn’t need stirring, and avoided Marnie’s gentle gaze. She knew that if she looked into Marnie’s eyes, she’d fall apart, and as much as she didn’t care about most things, she didn’t want to add to her mother-in-law’s burden.

  She focused on the china cup in her hands. At one time there’d been eight cups, the bone-white china adorned with a delicate pattern of indigo blue roses. Now only five remained. The set was broken. It was unfinished. Kind of like Raine.

  “You know I don’t usually say much or get too involved in the lives of those I love. I’ve always been of the mind that generally people need to come around on their own. But, Raine—” Marnie’s voice deepened and she paused.

  Raine’s bottom lip trembled. Still she refused to look up at her mother-in-law.

  Marnie cleared her throat and grabbed Raine’s hand, her fingers warm against Raine’s cold skin. “You’re not coming around, and I’m afraid for you. I thought that with Jake home and the fact you actually came to dinner the other night…I thought you might have turned the corner, but honey, I have to be honest with you. I’m worried.”

  “Marnie, I’m fine.”

  The words sounded hollow, even to Raine.

  “You’re not.” Marnie’s voice broke a little. “You’re not fine at all.”

  Her face was hot and the urge to wrench her hands from Marnie’s grasp strong, but Raine kept still, afraid that if she moved an inch, the wall of emotion inside her would break and her plan not to upset Marnie would blow wide open. It was so hard, though. The pressure inside was fierce, like a geyser about to explode.

  “I know you’ve had a really tough time, the last six months especially so, but you’re much too young to have given up hope, and I—” Marnie’s voice wavered and slowly Raine met her gaze. Marnie squeezed Raine’s hands. “I can’t lose you too.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Marnie.”

  “That’s my point, sweetie. You’re standing still, and if you don’t start moving forward, time will pass by with no regard, and before you know it, you’ll be looking back at wasted years.”

  Raine’s heart beat faster as the blood rushed through her body, making her dizzy. The cracks, it seemed, were seeping. “It’s not that easy.” She withdrew her hands from Marnie and wiped her forehead. “I lost everything last year. I can’t…” She shook her head, having a hard time articulating the thoughts that filled her mind.

  “Everyone grieves differently, Raine. I won’t pretend to know what you’re feeling, but I do have some perspective. I lost a son and pieces of my heart are broken…pieces that won’t ever be repaired. No matter how hard he tries, Steven can’t fill the gaps, and neither can Jake. They’re the scars that Jesse left behind, and I had to find a way to live with them. I had to find a way to go on for the ones left behind.”

  Raine wiped at her face slowly and whispered, “It’s just so damn hard.”

  No one slept beside her at night. There was no one there to listen to her sobs, or wipe away her tears. No one to hold her when she was cold, or tell her that things were going to be all right. No one to tell her she was pretty or interesting…or that she mattered.

  But the truly sad thing was that there were some nights Raine didn’t even know why she cried. She just did.

  “I know it’s hard, Raine. But you have to try to find something to hold on to…something to anchor you. Even Jake—”

  Raine’s head snapped up. “Jake?” A
n image of his dark, tortured eyes solidified in her head. “You think Jake is okay? That he’s over whatever the hell it was that happened over there?”

  Raine slid from her chair and began to pace. Gibson whined and sat near Marnie’s feet, his tail at half-staff, his large brown eyes fixed on Raine as she crossed to the window and looked out into the darkness.

  Her heart hurt. Her throat was tight, and she felt as if she was going to throw up. “Has he ever told you what happened?” She barely got the words out and stared at Marnie’s reflection in the window. Tears began to fall down her cheeks and she wiped them away angrily. “Because he’s never said anything to me. Nothing.”

  Marnie shook her head slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. “No.”

  For some reason, her quiet manner revved up Raine’s anger. Something gave way inside her as she whirled around, pushing back the strand of hair that never stayed put. “Don’t you want to know? Don’t you want to know exactly how Jesse died?”

  Marnie’s gaze didn’t falter. “No.”

  “I do. I want to know every single detail,” Raine continued, as if Marnie hadn’t spoken at all. “I don’t care what the official report says. That’s just a lousy piece of paper with a bunch of words I don’t feel a connection to. I don’t care that it tells me it was fast, or that he wasn’t in a lot of pain. I don’t care that a fucking bullet tore through his aorta, while a piece of shrapnel sliced through his jugular.” Tears flooded her mouth, her nose—and something inside Raine burst open until pain lanced across her chest and flushed through her in a hot thrust that left her clammy. She was about to fall apart, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do.

  “I don’t care about any of that, because they’re just words on a piece of paper that some stranger I’ve never met wrote up. They don’t mean anything to me.” Her entire body shook violently, and for a moment the world darkened. All color fled her vision until there was only gray, and white noise filled her ears.

  When Marnie flew to her side and wrapped her arms around her, Raine went still. It had been so long since she let anyone touch her like this.

  The space inside her expanded and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. The pain was much too intense. She closed her eyes and slumped into Marnie’s arms, suddenly so utterly defeated and weak that if not for her mother-in-law, she would have fallen to the floor.

  “I need to know everything. I need to know how it happened. Why it happened. I need to know if the sun was shining or if they were in the middle of another sandstorm. Did he sleep all right the night before? Or did he have one of those god-awful nightmares he had whenever he was home? I need to know that he was okay in the end. That his pain…that his fear was dealt with. I want to know why he was acting so out of it and weird that last time he was home on leave.”

  There it was. The dirty little worm that had been digging into her heart and her mind for so long. “He wasn’t right,” she whispered.

  Raine shuddered and disengaged herself from Marnie. She took a few steps, wavering slightly because she felt so weak. So damn tired. “I need to know what his last words were…that he wasn’t scared or sorry.”

  “Don’t do this to yourself, Raine.”

  Raine faced her mother-in-law, totally spent. She crossed back to the island and slid into the nearest chair. She took a sip of her tea and said the one thing that had haunted her for the last year and a half. “I want to know if he left for Afghanistan knowing he wouldn’t be coming back, because I’m not even sure he wanted to.”

  She saw that Marnie was shocked by her words, and for one second she wished that she could snatch them back. But the moment passed, and for the first time in forever, it seemed, a bit of the weight that had hung on her shoulders seemed to dissipate.

  Marnie stood in the middle of the kitchen for the longest time, looking so small and lost that Raine had to look away. She felt like an absolute ass. Why had she opened her mouth? Where had all those words come from? What the hell had happened to not hurting the one woman on the planet who had only ever shown her love and kindness?

  Gibson rubbed his furry body against her legs. She bent down, scooped the dog into her arms, and held him close. His puppy smell was familiar and safe. She inhaled his chubby goodness, drank in his warmth, closed her eyes, and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

  There was a long pause, and for one scary moment Raine was afraid she’d done too much damage and that Marnie would just up and leave. If that happened…

  “Don’t ever be sorry for saying how you feel. You can’t keep all this darkness inside you, Raine. It’s too much for anyone to bear.”

  Relief flooded Raine, and she gripped Gibson so tight that he whimpered in protest and squiggled madly until she let him go. She swallowed and gathered one more shot of courage. “Jake’s not okay. You know that, right?”

  Marnie was silent for a few moments, her eyes filling with tears as she struggled to speak. She nodded. “I know my son is hurting,” Marnie acknowledged wearily. She ran her hands over her face and closed her eyes. “I know that he doesn’t sleep at night, and when he does, I can only imagine the horrors that haunt him. I know that he felt the need to stay away from us for far too long, and now that he’s back…” She exhaled harshly. “Now that he’s back, I can’t lose him.” A slow, sad smile crept over her features. “But my boy is strong and he’s making an effort. I know he doesn’t want to live in darkness any longer, and you could learn from that.”

  Ouch. However much it hurt to hear those words, Raine knew they were true.

  She grabbed a box of puppy treats from the cupboard and tossed a few to Gibson. She tried to keep her voice casual but wasn’t altogether successful. “You really think this woman…Lily St. Clare…is what Jake needs?”

  Marnie shrugged. “I don’t know if she’s what he needs, but I do know that he’s home after all this time, that sometimes he smiles and I’ve seen glimpses of the old Jake. For whatever it’s worth, I’m fairly certain she has something to do with it.”

  Raine’s mouth thinned. Marnie couldn’t be more wrong. Jake Edwards wasn’t a big-city-trust-fund-baby kind of man. He was…hell, she didn’t know what he was anymore, but she knew with every fiber of her being that Jake Edwards and Lily St. Clare didn’t belong together.

  “I know you’d like me to encourage Jake in regard to this woman, but can we agree to disagree?”

  “Why don’t you like her?”

  “It’s not that I don’t like her, I don’t know her. I just…” Her voice trailed off, because she really didn’t know how to answer the question. She shrugged. It was more a feeling that she couldn’t put into words.

  Marnie’s face softened. “Okay. I think you’re wrong. But okay.”

  The lump returned big-time, settling into the back of her throat once more. She would have given anything to wipe away the pain she saw reflected in Marnie’s eyes.

  “I’m so sorry I dumped all that onto you. I don’t know what came over me.”

  Her mother-in-law crossed the room in three strides and hugged her tightly. They clung to each other for several long moments. “I miss him so much,” Raine whispered.

  “We all miss him, sweetie.”

  Raine squeezed her eyes shut as a wave of guilt washed over her. It wasn’t Jesse she was speaking of.

  Marnie gave her one more hug and stepped back, her features relaxed into a slow grin that warmed Raine’s heart. “I’ve got some good news.”

  “You do?” Raine gathered up the cups and rinsed them under the water in the sink.

  Marnie nodded, reached for Gibson, and scratched the puppy under his chin, grinning as the dog rolled over onto his back and offered up his soft belly.

  “Jake’s bought the old Wyndham Place.”

  “What?” Raine was shocked. “But it’s in ruins.”

  Marnie nodded. “Yes, it is.”

 
Raine set the cups on the drying rack and leaned her hip against the counter, biting her lip thoughtfully as she gazed out the window into the darkness. The Wyndham mansion had been built by one of the founding families of Crystal Lake back in the early 1800s, during the lumber boom.

  A palatial antebellum home on the water, Michael Wyndham had presented it to his new bride, a Southern belle who’d defied her family and married for love. It had been passed down through several generations until the last Wyndham left Crystal Lake for a brighter future somewhere else, leaving it to fall into disrepair sometime back in the 1970s. The last anyone knew, it was owned by some distant relative and had become both an eyesore and a liability.

  The Wyndham mansion was been a virtual playground for Raine when she was growing up. A place to pretend and explore. A place to find love and fantasize about the proverbial knights in shining armor. When she was younger, Raine used to pretend she was the lady of the house and play inside the ruins for hours at a time.

  It was where she’d stolen her first kiss.

  “I always loved that house. I didn’t know it was for sale.” She turned back to Marnie.

  “We ran into Brad Kitchen at the hardware store yesterday during the Black Friday sales and he told Steven he’d just listed it. Something went off inside Jake—I saw it in his eyes. We all went out to see the place, and even though it needs a lot of work, he put in an offer last night and found out a few hours ago that it was accepted.”

  “Oh.” She couldn’t help but feel left out, and though she tried to keep her bottom lip from trembling, she wasn’t wholly successful. “I would have gone…” she managed, “if I’d known.”

  “He called you,” Marnie said quietly, “but you didn’t answer your phone, and we just figured…”

  Raine blushed as her mother-in-law took in the tangled ponytail, ratty old sweatshirt, and the mismatched socks on her feet.

  “Honey, we just figured you still weren’t feeling all that well.”