by Karen Cimms
I blinked fiercely, trying to keep the tears from falling as he slipped the ring onto my finger.
“And this one,” he said, patting his shirt pocket, “I hope you’ll allow me to put back where it belongs soon.”
He gave me a sad smile, then looked around the kitchen as if seeing it for the first time. My Chase had been a strong, solid man, not overly emotional or sentimental. The man standing before me was broken.
I grabbed his hands and guided them around my waist. He didn’t pull away, and he didn’t resist when I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“Just remember, wherever you’re going, I love you,” I whispered, pressing my lips against his ear.
I watched him drive away, then I pinched myself to make sure that I wasn’t dreaming.
Chapter Fifty-Six
I checked into the Grand Hotel in Cape May, and for two days straight, I did little more than sleep. My body and mind weren’t ready to process any of this, so they just shut down. Now and then, when I awoke, I ventured down to the bar for food I barely ate and beer I barely drank. It could have been much worse. I could have spent all of that time drinking, which given what I’d put us all through didn’t seem like such a bad idea.
But instead of anesthetizing myself, I slept, and when I wasn’t asleep, I stayed sober. I wanted to feel my pain. I deserved to feel it. Not that the past year had been easy on me—it hadn’t—but I’d caused so much pain, something that wouldn’t have happened had I kept a clear head and listened to my heart instead of my mother, my brother, and the bitch he’d married.
What I’d done to Callie was bad, but although it was hardly an excuse, I hadn’t been thinking clearly. But when I considered what I’d done to Rain, to the woman I loved more than anything in this world, it was a miracle I didn’t climb out of bed and walk straight into the ocean.
When I woke up on the third day, I was no longer tired. I flicked on the bedside lamp. It was a little after six. I had just under an hour, and according to the weather app on my phone, the skies would be clear and perfect.
I tugged on a pair of jeans and a thick sweater, grabbed my jacket and headed for the parking lot. Equipped with an extra-large coffee from the small market on the corner, I drove the few miles to the lighthouse.
It was still dark when I pulled into the parking space closest to the beach walkway. I kept the engine running and sipped my coffee while scrolling through the messages I’d ignored for the past three days. There were two from Mom, the first demanding to know if I’d lost my mind and the second, more contrite, asking if I was okay. I sent her a quick response not to worry, that I was fine. As an afterthought, I added that my mind, for the first time in a long time, was very much intact.
There were a couple of messages from Dylan and two missed calls from Callie. I’d said everything I needed to say to Callie when I called off the wedding. You could only say you’re sorry so many times, and I had. More repetitions wouldn’t change a thing, nor would anything she could say to me change my mind. With remorse, I deleted both messages.
The one person I’d hoped to hear from hadn’t called or texted. Even though she admitted that she still loved me and had agreed to wear her engagement ring, for now, how could I expect Rain to trust me after all the wrong things I’d done? I toyed with the idea of sending her a message to let her know I loved her and I was okay. I stopped typing almost as soon as I’d begun and deleted the message, one letter at a time. After all we’d been through, text messages weren’t the way we should be communicating.
It was nearly seven. She was probably on her way to work by now. But hearing her voice would only make me want to rush home, and I wasn’t ready. Not yet. This self-imposed penance wasn’t over.
I dashed off a quick text to Izzy telling her that I was fine, that I loved them, and that I would see them soon. Then I tossed the phone into my glove compartment and climbed out of the truck.
Wispy threads of pink slipped across the horizon as I made my way across the dunes, tugging my cap lower over my ears. The wind coming off the ocean bit through my jacket and my jeans, numbing the fronts of my thighs. I shivered, but I wasn’t about to miss this. If I wasn’t ready to be with Rain at this moment, then I wanted to be in a place that had always been special to me. It became our place after I’d brought her here for the first time, and even more so after we were married here.
The sound of the surf pounded in my ears. Waves crashed, and the foamy water swept inches from my feet. The sky turned pink, reflecting its hue on the surface of the sea, matching where the two met, and streaked upward in lavender and orange until it bade farewell to the last of the night in the deepest shade of royal blue. It was both beautiful and painful. For the first time in five years, I was watching the sun rise over the Atlantic on my favorite beach alone.
My fingers and toes grew numb from the cold, yet I remained at the edge of the water as the sun rose higher. I felt renewed, cleansed, invigorated. It was a new day, a clean slate.
Anything was possible.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
December
Five days. In that time, the sun came out once, took a look around, and ducked back behind a cloud. The gray days reflected my mood, culminating with a steady rain that was not typical at all for December in New Jersey.
Other than one text to Izzy telling her and Zac that he loved and missed them, we hadn’t heard from Chase.
I was glad for the distractions of working two jobs, although they were running me ragged. We had picked up a number of catering jobs at the luncheonette, and Irena had Christmas parties booked several nights a week. For the most part, I was only at home long enough to shower, change my clothes, and sleep. Nights were the hardest. Between my aching body and my aching heart, I was functioning on autopilot.
By telling me he still loved me, Chase had opened the door a crack. I dared to imagine we might have a chance. But as the days wore on with no word, I was reminded of how much he had hurt me.
It was Monday, the start of another long week, and I was already counting the minutes until Blondie’s closed. I’d been on my feet and working almost nonstop since seven that morning. I finished rinsing out the glasses, grateful that the bowling league party had broken up early. Maybe I could get out on time and make it into bed before midnight. I envisioned climbing into bed fully dressed to gain a precious few more minutes tonight and in the morning.
“You ready for Christmas?” Wally was nursing his beer, most likely avoiding the list of chores I was certain hung on the refrigerator in Diane’s kitchen.
I snorted. “Hardly. I did some shopping yesterday, but I haven’t put a dent in it. The only cookies we’re going to have this year are the ones I’m skimming off the top of the batches I’m making at the restaurant.” I winked. “Don’t tell my mother.”
He laughed. “I promise.”
I plucked away the glass he drained and was bending over to scoop up some soggy napkins from the floor when I hear the bell over the door jingle. I cursed myself under my breath for not locking it. Irena wouldn’t refuse more customers, no matter how much money she’d made earlier from the lady bowlers.
“Uh, Rain?”
Wally motioned with his chin toward the door.
I followed his gaze. Chase stood just inside the door, his hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans, watching me.
Our eyes met, and I felt that whole crazy range of emotions explode inside me again. My gaze locked with his, I came around the bar. He watched my every step. I wanted to hit him, pummel his chest for telling me he loved me and then leaving me again. But when I stood before him, the pain on his face seeped into my chest and twisted my heart.
I grabbed him by the collar of a sweater I didn’t recognize, joining with the unfamiliar leather jacket to taunt me with how far off course our lives had spun, and pulled his face to mine. My kiss was the kiss of a bride welcoming her soldier home from war. The cast on his broken wrist dug into my back as his free hand tangled itself in my
hair.
I heard Wally’s wolf whistle from somewhere beyond my frame of consciousness, along with a chorus of pounding on the bar and catcalls. My chest was heaving as we parted. Chase brushed his lips against my ear and whispered my name softly.
I wasn’t finished with him. Still gripping his sweater, I pulled him low enough so that only he could hear me.
“I’m still hurt and angry, Chase Holgate, and we have a lot of work to do, but I love you. I don’t want you to forget it again—ever.”
“I won’t.” He crushed his mouth against mine and kissed me until I was boneless.
Chase had a beer with Wally while I finished up. He’d already seen Izzy and Zac, taken them to dinner, and returned them to my mother’s with their things to spend the night. Although jumping into bed tonight was probably not the smartest thing for us to do since we hadn’t resolved one damn thing that caused us to break up in the first place, it was all I could think about. Since he’d made sure we would have an uninterrupted night, I had to assume he was thinking the same thing.
Chase was more reserved than usual as he walked me to my car and again when we arrived at the house. It surprised me how uncomfortable I felt with a man I’d loved and lived with for almost five years. It felt like the ending to an awkward a first date. He followed me into the house, his new truck parked next to my Escort in the driveway, just like the old days.
“Do you want another beer?” I asked. “Coffee, tea?”
He shrugged. “Whatever you’re having.”
I hadn’t bought Heineken in a while. Too painful. “Yuengling?”
“That’s fine.”
When he went to sit at the kitchen table, I directed him into the living room instead. I hadn’t been sleeping well, and the harsh glare of the fluorescent lighting was not my friend. Of course, the couch might turn out to be a bit cozier than either of us was ready for.
“You look really tired,” he said, breaking the silence that filled the room.
“I am. I hate to think how bad I look, but I’m exhausted.”
“You’re beautiful. You just look tired.” He leaned his head back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. “All I’ve done for the past five days is sleep, think, and walk. It’s surprising how hard it is to really think.”
I wanted to bite my tongue, but I was too tired to be coy. “And it took you five days to convince yourself to come back to me?”
He looked confused at first. Then he set his beer down on the coffee table and covered my hand with his. “It took me five days to convince myself that I might still deserve to come back to you.”
My lips parted, but no sound came out. I set my bottle down beside his, then stood and tugged his hand gently. I needed him in so many ways, but for now, I ached to fall asleep in his arms.
“We have a lot of work to do, but tonight I just want to be with you. I want to lie beside you in our bed—for you to hold me, that’s all. Tomorrow, we can worry about fixing what needs fixing, but tonight—tonight, I just want to be us.”
His eyes were wet. He only nodded as I led him down the hall.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
It was the first decent night’s sleep I’d had in a long time. When morning came, an outsider peeking in the window would never have known we’d been apart for the past year. Chase made the coffee while I showered. I wrapped his cast in plastic bags from the grocery store so that he could shower, and I went to make eggs and toast.
We didn’t tackle anything tough over breakfast. All I knew was that he’d gone to Cape May, exactly where I’d thought he’d go. Instead, I told him what I’d bought the kids for Christmas. He’d bought Zac the same Lego train set and offered to take it back and get something else from the list we’d mailed to Santa a week earlier.
We left for work at the same time, me off to the restaurant and Chase off to his apartment to change clothes and head to the Sunoco station. Although he still couldn’t work on cars with his broken wrist, he was working in the office and at the gas pump. We made plans to have dinner as a family, and his goodbye kiss was lingering, filled with promise. I was very okay with that.
Knowing they were one of Chase’s favorites, I had put stuffed cabbage on the menu at the luncheonette, which saved me the time of making them when I got home. I packed up a tray to take home, and rushed out the door to go pick up Zac and ran straight into a customer coming in the front door.
“Sorry. We’re closed.”
The man looked over my shoulder as if he didn’t believe me, then refocused his gaze on me. “That’s too bad. I’ve heard good things about this place.”
“Thanks. We close at two, but you’ll have to come back again when we’re open. If you have a card or something, you can write down your name and I’ll give you a free drink next time you come in for your trouble.”
“That’s awfully nice of you. Are you the owner?”
I shifted the heavy tray in my hands. I wanted to get going, but I didn’t want to be rude either. I just wish he’d hurry up.
“Not really. My mom owns it.”
“Just a second. I’m sure I have something here.” He reached inside his coat and pulled out a large manila envelope. “There you go. This’ll do.” He held it out, so I balanced the tray on the railing near the door. I’d have asked him for something smaller, but I really had to go. I scanned the writing on the front of the envelope, but instead of the stranger’s name, I saw my own.
Before I could question him, he dipped his head, told me to have a good afternoon, and jogged down the steps and back to his car.
I sat in my car outside the daycare center staring at the envelope in my hands. It was from a law firm in Morristown. Figures. The hourly rate for a lawyer up there was probably about what I made in a week at the luncheonette.
I slid a shaky finger under the seal and opened the tab, then slid out the contents.
No surprise, it was from Preston’s attorney. I hadn’t picked up the certified letter from the post office, so I guess they’d decided to hand-deliver it.
Dear Ms. Holgate,
As you have refused to accept or acknowledge receipt of all previous requests for your cooperation in determining the paternity of the minor child, Zachary Oliver Holgate, we have ensured the receipt via messenger service.
My client, Preston Fitzgerald Jamison III, has been more than patient in trying to reach an amicable settlement with you regarding the minor child, but has been rebuffed and ignored.
Please understand that if you fail to reach out and meet with Mr. Jamison to negotiate arrangements to submit the minor child to genetic marker testing, we will have no alternative but to file a motion in family court to enforce same.
You have fifteen days from receipt of this letter to contact Mr. Jamison or myself to voluntarily make arrangements for testing or we will be forced to file a motion with the Division of Family Court for the State of New Jersey.
Sincerely,
Alistair Barclay
Fifteen days would put us right after Christmas. I folded the letter, slipped it back into the envelope and tucked it into my glove compartment. It wasn’t going to go away, but there was nothing I could or would do about it today.
Zac was full of questions about Chase as we walked across the preschool parking lot. I fielded them the best I could, but when he asked if Daddy would be sleeping at home, I didn’t know what to tell him.
“Daddy will be here for dinner, but I’m not sure if he’s staying over. He lives somewhere else now, remember?”
“Yeah, but he’s not marrying Callie, so he can come home now, right?”
“We’ll see.”
He stopped walking. When I looked down, he was pouting and kicking at stones with the toe of his sneaker.
“What’s wrong?”
“Izzy said when you say ‘we’ll see,’ that means no.”
“Oh, did she?” I hid a smile. “Well, that’s not what I meant at all.”
“Then what does it mean?”
His head drooped lower.
“Now what?”
“Izzy said maybe means no, too.”
“All it means is that I’m not sure. That I can’t promise. It doesn’t mean no.”
“Why can’t you promise?” His little face was so sad that my heart clenched.
I squatted in front of him and tilted his chin so that his eyes met mine. Blue eyes. Were they were more of a bluish-green like Chase’s or an icy blue like Preston’s? I could no longer tell.
“What?” he asked, twisting his face from my fingers.
“Sorry. I was daydreaming.”
“In my eyes?” He was horrified.
I smiled.
“Someday you’ll like it when a girl stares dreamily into your eyes.”
“Yuck. Except you.” He pondered this for a moment. “And maybe Mimi.”
“We’ll see.”
I laughed at his exaggerated sigh, and when that laugh threatened to turn into something altogether different, I pulled him tight against me. There was no need upsetting Zac with my sudden and unexpected tears, but instead of him squirming to get away, he patted my back like I would often do with him when he needed a hug.
I squeezed him tighter, soaking in the love from my little man, and when I felt I could look at him without crying, I loosened my grip.
“Thanks, bud. I needed that.”
He pushed a hank of hair out of his eyes. “Yeah. You look like you need a hug.”
Laughing, I stood and took his hand. “How about we stop at the store and pick up some ice cream for dessert?”
“Rocky road? That’s Dad’s favorite!”
“You bet.”
Chase arrived around six o’clock, carrying a large red poinsettia and nothing else. Apparently he wasn’t planning to stay.