“No!” he said too sharply.
She didn’t look intimidated though. Emmy never did.
“Aidan, what’s really going on? Does this have to do with what you experienced in Darfur?”
The black-and-white fuzz was filling his vision again. He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back against the side of the couch. “Maybe,” he finally said. “I don’t know.”
“Post traumatic stress disorder?”
“Yeah, but…” But it was worse than that now. He’d gotten worse, not better.
“But what?”
“I don’t know. Forget it.”
She frowned, and he found himself staring at her mouth as if it was the key to his salvation.
Her lips were full, an impossibly soft pink color, and her mouth was wide in a way that made her smile look endless when it appeared. It just went on forever. And he used to kiss her as often as he could. He’d kiss her hello and goodbye and for no reason at all. He’d kiss her until she laughed and pushed him away because she was trying to study or read a book, but more often than not, they’d end up laughing and making love.
Making love. How long had it been? He had not been with a woman in a year and a half, at least. He’d stopped living, stopped doing all the things that had once made life good.
“I think you should let me take you to the doct—”
He leaned forward and kissed her.
He hadn’t meant to do it. Hadn’t thought of the wisdom of it. He’d just gone for her mouth as if there might be some salvation there. Caught off guard, she hadn’t kissed him back at first. She simply sat there, shocked.
But then he felt her opening up to him, her lips parting for his tongue to find hers. His whole body caught fire then, and he pulled her against him, into his lap. His hands were holding onto her as if she were his life preserver.
She smelled exactly as she always had, like honeysuckle and woman, and he wanted her naked body against his. Wanted to bury himself inside her and never come back out.
She’d be his refuge from this world.
Where once they’d been too young and passionate and intense, now they could get it right. They’d have heartbreak and maturity to lead them down a better path together.
But a moment later, the spell was broken.
“Mom?” a child’s voice called from outside.
Emmy stiffened and pulled herself away. She looked stunned by the kiss, and her gaze searched his for some answer about what had just happened.
“I’ll be right back,” she said and scrambled to her feet, then rushed out the front door.
He could hear her talking to her son, telling him she’d be free to go swimming in a little while, that he could put on his trunks but had to stay here near the house until she was ready to go.
Aidan stared down at the glass of water that lay sideways on the floor next to him, its contents forming a dark spot on the red Pakistani rug. He didn’t remember dropping it, but he must have. The energy to get up and take care of the spill eluded him.
Emmy came into the room and sighed. “What was that?” she asked as she knelt beside him again.
“A kiss for old times’ sake?” He’d meant it as a joke but didn’t have the energy to even smile now.
“I don’t want Max to see anything like that and get the wrong idea. He’s still getting used to his dad being gone from his life. I don’t want to make things harder on him.”
“Sure. Of course,” Aidan said dully.
“And, of course, I—I mean, we…didn’t work out the first time around. There aren’t any lingering feelings…you know?”
He might have relieved the awkwardness by saying something, but he stared silently. He didn’t know. He had lingering feelings, maybe not many good ones, but certainly he had feelings where she was concerned. He’d loved her in a way he’d never had the courage or the foolhardiness to love anyone since.
She’d been the one to teach him to guard his heart, the one who’d made him understand what the word heartbroken meant, the one who’d forced him to change the channel on the radio when sad love songs came on.
Unfortunately, he feared, she still had the power to undo him.
Her brow was creased with worry. “What’s going on with you, Aidan?”
“I think it’s called agoraphobia,” he blurted. “I don’t really go outside or anything anymore.”
“Wow.” She sat silent, pondering what he’d said.
“You can’t have people coming around here, or noise. I—I know it sounds crazy, but I can’t handle it.”
His heart started pounding faster, thudding in his ears until it drowned out all other sound.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Aidan. I came here to build a house. My new business depends on it. And that’s what I’m going to do.”
CHAPTER FOUR
We didn’t know when it was day or night. Hours ticked by in slow motion, and days faded into one another without beginning or end. Coming unhinged from time became a torture of its own. I fought against it by counting the shift changes of our captors, and the meals we were fed, and I could roughly estimate the passage of time in this way.
From Through a Soldier’s Eyes
by Aidan Caldwell
“MAMA, what’s wrong with that man in grandma’s house?”
“What do you mean, honey?” Emmy asked, though her thoughts immediately went back to the kiss she and Aidan had shared last week.
She’d been haunted by that kiss, tormented, brought awake at night tense and longing for things she didn’t have. It had been a taste of the intensity she didn’t dare go near again in this lifetime. Her immature self had loved Aidan, but her mature self, the one that had been forced to grow up and learn to put her child first, could not go back to being the girl she had been, or loving the way she used to.
She stood at the small sink in the guest cottage washing dishes. The sink was overflowing from the day’s breakfast and lunch dishes, as if trying to point out to her that this place was too small for the two of them to share.
They could only store a few days’ groceries in the efficiency refrigerator and cabinets, and Emmy, just two days into the house-building project and a little more than a week into staying in the cottage, was painfully aware of her lack of a dedicated work space. She longed for a desk where she could spread out her designs without fear of dirty fingers grabbing things or a half-drunk cup of milk overturning on her computer.
Just that morning, Max had put a wet, muddy rock on a copy of her blueprints, and she’d yelled at him, then immediately regretted it and apologized. Even Aidan’s presence in the next house, although they hadn’t seen him in a day and a half, felt as if it was causing the walls to close in on her.
“Why is he so mad?”
She set a plate on the drainer that took up half their useable counter space and turned to look at him. “Did he say something to you?”
Max gazed at her warily, a dirty old femur bone of some unidentified forest animal in his hand. “No,” he said, clearly uncertain why she was taking such an interest in his question.
“Why do you think he’s mad then?”
“Because he looks mad and he doesn’t come outside,” he said simply, and Emmy felt like an idiot for thinking it was more complicated than that.
It was true they hadn’t seen Aidan do anything but scowl since they’d arrived—that is, when they had actually seen him, which wasn’t often. And Max had a great sense of intuition, but he could also wonder about simpler things like why a grown-up might look so angry all the time when he peered out the window at them.
“Do you think he forgot where he buried his treasure?”
“His what?”
“His treasure,” Max said matter-of-factly.
Emmy had gotten used to her son’s seemingly nonsensical comments, and she knew how to backtrack and figure out where his leaps of logic came from. Usually.
“You mean like pirate treasure?”
“Yeah.”
>
“You still think Aidan is a pirate?”
“Isn’t he?”
She bit her lip, tried not to smile. “I can see why you might think that, but it’s more likely he’s just a regular guy.”
Max looked at her as if he pitied her for her lack of imagination, and he was probably right to do so.
Max sighed. “I’m bored, Mom.”
“Bored? Why don’t you go outside and play?”
“I want some other kids to play with.”
That was the biggest problem with living here in the woods. The nearest neighbor kid wasn’t in go-next-door-and-knock distance.
“We can go to the beach later. There might be some kids there.”
“But I want someone to play with now.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie, but I have things around here to get done first.”
Another heavy sigh. “Why’d we have to move here, anyway?”
“I thought you liked it here.”
He said nothing, but stared morosely at the femur bone.
Emmy had worried about whether homeschooling Max would isolate him too much, and now that she was trying to get their house built and launch her business, she was getting the sense that she’d taken on too much, and something would have to give.
“How would you feel about going to a summer day camp?” she asked.
“What’s that?”
“It would be a place you could go to play with other kids, do fun stuff, make things, go on outdoor adventures—”
“Yeah, I want to go there. Can we go now?”
“No, I have to sign you up. The other good thing is, it could give you a chance to meet kids you might want to go to school with in the fall.”
“School? You mean like not being homeschooled anymore?”
Emmy nodded. “How do you feel about that?”
He gave the matter some thought. “Yeah, I want to go to regular school again, as long as it’s not boring.”
“I think I can find you an interesting school where you’ll have fun, okay?”
“All right, but I’m still bored right now.”
“I don’t want to hear you talking like that. There’s no such thing as bored.”
“Does that mean there’s no such thing as fun, either?”
She tried not to laugh. Max never failed to poke holes in her shaky arguments.
“All I mean is, it’s up to you to entertain yourself. If you’re bored, you do something about it. Why don’t you go outside and collect pine cones or something?”
Max sighed yet again, playing the drama queen, but he got up and went outside, slamming the door behind himself. Emmy thought of following after him to warn him about slamming doors, but she decided to pick her battles. At least she had a few moments alone now.
She’d been feeling keyed up and anxious ever since arriving at the lake. So much was at stake right now, and she wasn’t as sure as she’d been a few weeks ago that she could really handle it all—especially not when factoring in the ever-nagging presence of Aidan.
Even though he was usually out of sight, he was rarely out of Emmy’s mind. He was a constant reminder of the stupid girl she’d once been, a person she couldn’t respect and couldn’t imagine being again. She’d been selfish, self-centered, a spoiled brat. She liked who she was now—a mother, an architect, a woman matured by life experience—and she hated the feelings Aidan evoked that reminded her of the person she used to be.
Aside from the stress of having her past living next door to her, the contractor was already proving to be a bit of a prima donna in his resistance to her ideas. The construction crew she’d counted on putting through training so they could understand her unconventional building methods were being resistant, too, and aside from her friend Ben, whom she’d asked the contractor to hire as a carpenter, they were uninterested in learning anything new.
As if that wasn’t enough stress, the cost of building materials kept going up as her budget kept shrinking, and she was afraid she was going to run out of money if she didn’t get hired soon to build a house for someone else.
Not to mention single motherhood and her lack of a social life.
And Aidan’s kiss was a painful reminder of the lack of physical pleasure in her life right now. She’d felt it in places she hadn’t wanted to feel it, and dormant parts of herself had woken up and begun to tingle.
Divorce had killed her sense of romance about life. Other than one brief, frantic, insane relationship she’d had while going through the thick of her divorce misery, she’d avoided men. She hadn’t wanted the pain or the complication, not when she was struggling to stay sane and balanced for Max’s sake. And not when she wasn’t even sure she’d cleaned up all the pieces of her shattered heart.
So it was a revelation to be feeling something like desire again, something like attraction. She felt as if she were waking up to that part of life, but if so, she was waking up to the wrong person.
She wondered how much of her apparent attraction to Aidan had to do with feeling sorry for him for what he’d been through. He must have suffered horribly as a hostage, and judging by the look in his eyes and his erratic behavior, he suffered still. She wanted to help, but how?
She thought of her old friend Lydia Cormier, whom she’d known since childhood and who still lived in Promise. She’d heard Lydia had worked with soldiers returning from war in her psychology practice. Maybe…if Aidan would talk to a therapist, he might find some healing.
As she finished washing the last few dishes, she made a mental note to get Lydia’s contact information.
She had to help Aidan somehow, and that was at least a start. And, she believed he could use a friend. Perhaps she wasn’t the best choice of friend for him, given their history, but she would find ways to look out for him if she could. That’s what a friend would do.
No matter how much she wanted to help though, she couldn’t let herself be attracted to Aidan. He was mentally unbalanced, and he was an unwelcome ghost from her past. She’d come to Promise Lake to get a fresh start, to take care of herself and her son, not to relive past mistakes. She and Aidan had been too intense together, and she didn’t want that kind of energy in her life again.
She’d just have to keep reminding herself of that until she believed it with her mind and her heart.
AIDAN HAD MANAGED over a week of having Emmy and her kid living right next door, while mostly avoiding them. He’d developed coping mechanisms, like wearing his iPod headphones with the music on when they were making noise, and keeping the curtains closed if he got sick of seeing them moving about. But their presence stayed wedged in his consciousness like a thorn in his side, so that he could never quite forget about them and feel at peace.
And, speaking of interruptions, someone was knocking at the door. He looked up from his computer and muttered a curse. Just when he was finally getting rolling a bit—he’d written a whole sentence—of course there was an interruption.
But he’d ordered groceries that morning, and he couldn’t very well ignore the grocery delivery person. He needed food.
He went to the door and made the mistake of not looking through the window before opening it, because there on the porch stood the kid, Max, staring up at him.
The boy didn’t bother with hello, but said, simply, “Did you know a ghost lives here?”
“What?”
“My cousin Dylan told me a ghost lives here.”
Aidan’s first reaction was to roll his eyes. Robert Van Amsted had told him the same thing when he’d offered Aidan the cabin. Some nonsense about his aunt who’d died in the lake and whose spirit stuck around rearranging dishes and rustling through the curtains. He’d insisted she was harmless, and Aidan had figured, what the hell, a ghost was probably the only company he could tolerate at this point in his life.
Before, he might not have believed in ghosts, but he’d seen enough unjust death in his life not to dismiss such ideas completely anymore.
Still, he’d never seen ev
en the slightest hint of other-worldly spirits at the cabin. The ghost story had turned out to be just that.
“Sorry to disappoint you, but there’s no ghost here.”
“How do you know?”
“Look, kid, you need to get lost. I’m working right now.”
“Then why did you answer the door?”
Aidan cursed under his breath, then said, “Because I thought you were the grocery delivery person.”
“Why don’t you go out to buy your groceries?”
“Why do you ask so many questions?”
The boy frowned and took a step back, finally getting the message that he wasn’t wanted here. “Maybe the ghost is scared of you and that’s why you never see her.”
“Then she’s a smart ghost.”
“How come you look mad all the time?”
“Kid, get lost.”
But the child didn’t budge any farther. Aidan grasped his arm gently but firmly, then nudged him backward until he could close and lock the door.
Alone again, he shook his head and went back to the desk. Damn rug rat. He’d have to let Emmy know now that he wasn’t going to tolerate any more kid interruptions. Next time, he wasn’t going to be so gentle about telling the kid to get the hell out of here.
But the thought of having to talk to her again made his face turn hot and his throat close up. He stood and went to the bathroom, flicked on the light, and bent over the sink as he turned the water on. He splashed cold water on his face, then cupped his hand under the faucet and drank a few gulps. He was breathing hard, and he needed to calm down before he went into a full-on panic attack.
Okay, he had to think calm, soothing thoughts. Water…ocean…beach…crashing waves…He pictured a rugged, quiet beach at Point Reyes, a place that had always drawn him and soothed him. Imagined himself there, cold water lapping at his feet, sunlight dancing off wet sand, making it look as if the beach were covered in diamonds. He would have given anything to be a normal person who could go there right now instead of cowering here inside a cabin, afraid of the ghosts in his head he couldn’t escape.
His thoughts were interrupted by the noise of the bulldozer outside. Freaking wonderful. That meant lunch break was done and he had another four hours of construction noise to endure before there would be any peace and quiet again.
A Forever Family Page 4