The Risk of Loving

by Jane Peart

  “Yes, but when you’re going through it, you can’t help but ask why? Why me? Why us? But then you realize why not me?”

  They were silent for a few moments, then Mark said, “You must be curious as to why I came by tonight. I hardly know where exactly to begin, but I think I owe you an apology.”

  Coryn held up one hand to halt him, shaking her head. “No, Mark, of course not—”

  “But I think I do, Coryn. At least an explanation. I’ve been wrong about a lot of things and I’m afraid I hurt you. The last thing I ever wanted to do was that. Because, the truth is, I…” He stopped as if not knowing how to go on.

  Coryn held her breath. Waiting. The only sound in the room was the slow ticking of the mantel clock, the hiss of the fire as a log broke apart. Her heart, however, had begun to beat loudly.

  “The truth is, Coryn, I foolishly wrote you out of my life. Because I was afraid. Afraid it might not be real, but more than that, that it might be too painful. I wasn’t willing to risk getting involved with anyone again. I felt I had all I could handle just bringing up Ginny, holding down my job. A relationship takes time to grow, and I wasn’t willing to take a chance. It seemed too risky somehow.”

  “Mark, you don’t have to tell me this. I think I understand. Right now my life is very complicated. My parents need me in a way they’ve never needed me before. I’ve a lot of growing to do myself to try to meet that need.” She paused. “A relationship can be absorbing and demanding and—”

  “Yes, but that’s where I was wrong, Coryn. Life doesn’t get any smoother, any simpler. We both have difficulties, that’s true. But this thing between usthe attraction I believe we both feel-if it is real, and I think it is, testing it will prove it. Sharing some of the burdens, as the saying goes, makes them lighter. And there are joys along the way, too. I don’t regret having known the happy times with Shari. Not to have known her would have been far worse. A loss of another sort. Do you see what I mean?”

  He reached over and took Coryn’s hand, looked deeply into her eyes as if hoping to find what he was looking for there.

  “Ginny misses you, Coryn. She’s asked me several times when the three of us are going to do something together. Don’t you think it would be worth it if we started spending time together again?”

  Coryn gently pulled her hand away, stood up and moved over to the window. Rain pelted the windowpanes. She put her hands against the coolness of the glass then on her cheeks. They were flaming hot.

  “Coryn.” He spoke her name like a caress.

  She felt shaky, her heart thrummed. Slowly she turned around from the window, faced him.

  Mark rose, stood looking at her, waiting for her answer. Coryn’s face was pale, there were smudges under her eyes as though she had not been sleeping much. But even without makeup, even in that shapeless baggy top, to him, she had never looked so appealing, so desirable. He said her name again, this time like a question. “Coryn?”

  She didn’t remember taking a step toward him or him coming to her. She only knew that when Mark held out his arms she went into them and he was kissing her. There was a sweet tenderness in that kiss, as if time had lost all meaning.

  When the kiss ended, Mark held her tight, then before loosening his hold, kissed her again. Slowly they drew apart. A marvelous feeling of warmth, gladness swept over her. She stepped back.

  They gazed at each other with a new awareness, a kind of recognition of what had just happened. Mark’s smile was wide, hopeful. Coryn’s was wobbly.

  “So, shall we give it another try?” he asked.

  Her breath quickened. “Yes, let’s,” she whispered.

  Later, sitting side by side on the sofa in front of the flickering fire, Mark’s arm around her, they said all the things their hearts had longed to say to each other. They talked of the past, of Shari, of Ginny, of what they would do next and of the future.

  “What it all comes down to is letting go, doesn’t it?” Mark asked. “Letting go of old memories, old expectations, lovingly, without regret or bitterness. Remembering the happy times, hoping there will be others.

  “No one has any guarantee of happiness, not for anyone. No matter what they try to gain or what they try to avoid. It’s part of being human. None of us knows what lies ahead. Your parents didn’t. Shari and I certainly didn’t. But that didn’t stop us from adopting Ginny and planning for a future with her.”

  Coryn thought of all the time she had wasted looking back. Agonizing over the mistakes she had made with Jason. It all seemed a long time ago now, as if it had happened to somebody else.

  She looked at Mark, and was caught up in the directness and honesty of his regard. He wasn’t offering her protection, shelter from whatever storms there might be in this journey they would travel together. The journey to deeper understanding, of genuine friendship, of caring. He was asking her to risk loving him and Ginny.

  Whatever “dragons” lay ahead, whatever was before her, with God’s help and Mark beside her, she was ready to begin.

  One Year Later

  Epilogue

  The couple and the child scrambled over the dunes onto a beach swept clean by the morning tide. A small golden retriever puppy, all paws and wagging tail, tumbled ahead of them, barking and sliding in the deeper sand.

  The child, a little girl of about seven, turned, grinned widely, displaying two missing front teeth, laughed, shouted back to the man and woman following her, “Look, Goldie loves it!”

  Coryn met Mark’s eyes, and the glance between them was one of mutual awareness, amusement and affection.

  They caught hands and swung them as they all walked down the beach. The waves rushed to shore in foamy curves. Above them, seagulls whirled, screeching, the sound mingling with Ginny’s happy cries to the rambunctious puppy.

  Was it really possible to be this happy? Coryn asked herself.

  The last five months had been the happiest of Coryn’s life. They had been married in a small, private ceremony at the church they now attended. Coryn had wanted the wedding to take place before her mother had slipped too far from reality. Clare had looked beautiful in a blue lace gown, a widebrimmed hat framing her still lovely face.

  Coryn wanted Ginny to be part of the ceremony so she was the only attendant. Looking adorable in a smocked and ruffled dress and carrying a small bouquet of violets, she stood proud and happy at the altar with them, as they spoke their vows. It had been an unforgettable occasion.

  Her mother’s slow progress to oblivion was still taking its measured toll. Yet through it all, Coryn had found Mark and a love she had at one time thought out of her reach. Truly, God had been good. In every trial there was a triumph, in every loss gain.

  Mark had taught her that grieving is the healing. To grieve the loss of a loved one is the path to healing. The length of time it takes is different for everyone. There is no set number of weeks, months, even years. It cannot be hastened. If the grieving is not suppressed, it does the healing. To be open to the grief and allow it to do its work is what is important. Help comes in all forms, understanding supportive friends, spiritual sources.

  It had taken Mark more than three years to heal from Shari’s death, to be ready, not to replace her, but to find another relationship was possible, to welcome the healing, to risk loving again.

  Although her mother’s death would not be the sudden death Shari’s accident had been, but gradual, still Coryn had to learn to let her go, to allow the grieving to do its work.

  Mark understood this and was there for Coryn as she slowly, painfully learned it, too. The puppy he had given her to mark their engagement, had been part of Mark’s therapy to help her. Sensitively he had chosen a female golden retriever, not a black male one that might suppose she was meant to replace Ranger. Not to be afraid to love a dog again was another healing step for Coryn.

  In the past months, Ginny had been an important part of that progress. There had been a touching bond between the little girl and Coryn’s mother. They ha
d spent time together in the sunny solarium of the Dodges’ home where they had set up Ginny’s dollhouse, now furnished and with its complete doll family. With some of Clare’s favorite music playing in the background, Ginny had played happily in the quiet, dreamy presence of the older woman. Ginny had proven the center of a widening circle of love that included her and Mark.

  After Coryn, Mark, and Ginny became a family certain changes were made. Mrs. Aguilar who had heartily approved of the marriage, offered to serve as caregiver of her mother the days Coryn went to the University pursuing her degree in occupational therapy. In the evenings, Neil Dodge took over, seeming to cherish the time spent with his beloved wife. He had mellowed in his acceptance of her illness and his devotion was unflagging. Their loving relationship was an inspiration to Mark and Coryn as they began their own life’s journey together.

  None of this was easy. But together they had traveled this difficult path, making the journey together. Together they had learned that “weeping may endure for the night but joy cometh in the morning.”

  Just then, sunshine broke through the clouds, tinting the bluffs behind them with gilded light. The wind off the ocean was crisp and smelled of brine. The surf swooped in with a roar, casting huge clumps of seaweed onto the sand. Down on the beach Ginny ran ahead, Goldie scampered along beside her.

  Coryn looked over at Mark. He was looking at her. They stopped, threw their arms around each other and kissed. There was a taste of salt on his lips, but the kiss was sweet, long and infinitely tender.

  Yes! It was possible to be this happy. Even walking in the shadow of death. In spite of everything! It would be wrong not to be happy on this beautiful day, not to appreciate it and the love that had been given her as a gift.

  Coryn heard Goldie’s bark, Ginny’s happy laugh behind Mark’s voice saying, “I love you.”

  * * * * *

  Dear Reader,

  Ever since it dawned on me at about the age of ten or eleven that all those books in the library I loved to read were written by real people, I wanted to become a writer. Telling stories seemed a wonderful way to spend my life. I am living my dream.

  My goal is to write novels with unforgettable characters whose stories will linger in readers’ minds long after they finish the book. Novels about challenges, choices in life and the experiences that strengthen and inspire.

  I feel very privileged to be published by Steeple Hill and hope my novels will reach readers and touch them in ways that will be both entertaining and reaffirming.

  With best wishes,

  eISBN 978-14592-7125-8

  THE RISK OF LOVING

  Copyright ® 1997 by Jane Peart

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office. Steeple Hill Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Steeple Hill Books.

  ® and TM are trademarks of Steeple Hill Books, used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

  Printed in U.S.A.