Dandelion Dreams

by Samantha Garman

  “Sage?”

  “It’s perfect.” My voice turned to a muffled whisper. “You didn’t ask me because you knew this house was perfect for us—it’s a dream.”

  Moments we hadn’t had yet flashed in my mind. Making love by the fireplace on cold winter nights; Kai standing in the doorway of the nursery while I watched him soothe our child in his arms. And years later, his temples stained gray with age and wisdom as he chased our children around the lake. Would five be too many?

  “Do you want kids?” I blurted out.

  He looked at me. “I think so, but I never thought much about it.”

  “I know we should’ve probably talked about this sooner, long before we got married.”

  “I always assumed I would, but it was a vague idea. What about you?”

  “I thought I had a lot of living to do before I made that happen. The idea used to terrify me.”

  “And now?”

  I shrugged.

  “I’ll give you anything you want. Making you happy is my reason for living.” He took my hand and brought it to his lips. “Let’s make a baby.”

  I inhaled a shaky breath. “We already have—I’m pregnant.”

  •••

  We drove back to the cottage in silence, the shock of my news infusing the air. It wasn’t until we tumbled back into bed and held each other that he spoke.

  “How far along are you?”

  “Six weeks.” I sighed.

  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  “I wanted to be sure. I didn’t plan this.”

  He laughed and laughed until he cried.

  “What?” I demanded. “What’s so funny?”

  “You and me. Flying by the seat of our pants. Of course this would happen to us.”

  “You’re unhappy about it, aren’t you?”

  He shook his head, pulling me close, so I couldn’t leave. “No, I’m sorry, darlin’; you misunderstand. Did you plan to marry a man you’d only known for a few months?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Look at our relationship up until this point. Should I really be surprised you’re pregnant?”

  “I didn’t trap you, I swear—”

  “Oh, is that what you think this about?”

  I nodded.

  “I know you’d never do something like that.”

  I exhaled in relief.

  “Things change all the time, Sage.”

  I looked up into his eyes; they were soft with emotion though there was nothing soft about him.

  His hand touched my belly. “I didn’t think my life could be this full. It all seems possible, now.”

  “What does?” I asked.

  “Everything.”

  •••

  We moved into the farmhouse that week. I sat on the bank of our property, my bare feet in the cool water of the lake. Tilting my face up to the sky, I felt the sunbeams mark me. I could already feel my skin turning pink, but I didn’t care. Let the perfect day stain my body.

  “You look like a Baroque painting,” Kai said from somewhere behind me. I turned my head and looked over my shoulder at him. He was shirtless, his red brand bright against the fair canvas of his chest. He wore a pair of old khaki shorts and his baseball cap; his hair was long and falling into his eyes, and he hastily brushed it off his forehead.

  “What would the title of the painting be?” I asked, as he came and plopped down next to me, sticking his feet into the water and brushing my toes with his.

  “A Content Woman.”

  “Hmmm.” I leaned my head against him. He was warm, familiar, like I had known him before this life. “We are defined by the joys as much as the tragedies.”

  “I want to give you so much joy you forget you ever had any tragedy. Fill you with so much light that it shoots out of your fingers and toes.”

  “Now, that would be an amazing painting.”

  “Maybe we’ll have it commissioned, and we can hang it over the fireplace in the living room.”

  “And when our children ask what it means, what will you tell them?”

  He pressed a kiss to my collarbone and said, “I will tell them you are my sun and the keeper of the light.”

  I sighed. I was a yellow balloon in danger of floating away. “Content doesn’t seem right.”

  “No? What then?”

  “A Woman in Joy.”

  “A Woman in Joy,” he echoed. “A true masterpiece.”

  •••

  We were naked on a pallet of blankets in front of the unlit fireplace of the farmhouse. It was early evening, just past twilight. We owned a bed, but I was a bigger fan of the floor at the moment.

  “Is this what you had in mind when you saw the house?”

  I grinned. “Maybe. I definitely thought we’d be doing this in winter.” Kai’s fingers drew circles on my belly. “I was thinking we could paint the nursery green. None of that pink or blue crap.”

  “Green is good.”

  “Not mint green—forest green.”

  “Sage green?” he teased.

  I laughed. “Do you want to find out the sex when it’s time?”

  “I already know.”

  “Do you?”

  “It’s a boy,” Kai stated.

  “You seem pretty sure of that fact. What happens if it’s a girl?”

  “Then it’s a girl. I’d be happy with that, too.”

  “You want a son though, right? Don’t all men want a son? A legacy?”

  “Some legacy I am,” he said, bitter resentment coating his tongue.

  I touched his arm, but did not placate him with empty words. I doubted he’d listen to them anyway.

  Kai sat up and gazed at the mantle. “I think I have to go back.”

  I stared at him; his revelation was a hammer on a glass window. “How long have you being thinking about this?”

  “Ever since you told me you were pregnant. It changes everything. I can’t look our kid in the eye and tell him I was a coward. I’ve got to go back and deal with things—finally deal with things.”

  I’d been dreading and hoping for this moment. How long could we have kept pretending that we were enough for each other? I wanted to tell him I was afraid, that our life wouldn’t be the same after we went to Monteagle, but what did we have if we couldn’t face his past? It would be a labyrinth, hedged with brutal emotions and unspeakable truths, but at least we’d find our way together.

  “Okay.” I wished I felt stronger. “We’ll go.”

  He leaned over and placed a kiss on my stomach before wrapping his arms around me.

  “It’s always something, isn’t it?” I said.

  He pulled back, brushing his thumbs across my cheeks. “I think they call this life. I have to do this.”

  “I know.” There wasn’t just one moment that defined adulthood. Our lives were a series of rebirths. Some of us were born with indomitable spirits that ensured we got up, checked for broken bones and then started again.

  He made me proud.

  With one arm around me, Kai reached for his cell phone and held it, weighing it in his hand. He took a deep breath and dialed. After a few moments he said simply, “It’s me. I’m coming home.”

  Chapter 19

  Kai

  Sage rested against my shoulder, sound asleep, and I brushed my lips across her forehead. We were somewhere over the Atlantic, and I knew that if I opened the airplane window shade, all I’d see would be darkness and gray clouds.

  I felt like I was returning to my own funeral, so heavenly judges could weigh the balance of my life. I wondered if my faults outweighed the good deeds.

  Sage made a whimpering sound and twitched before settling down. It’d been a week since we decided to face my family. Celia had put up a fight, telling us that Sage could travel now, but when she was in her third trimester it would be unsafe. I told Celia we’d be back long before then—I didn’t want to linger in Monteagle. My life was in France with Sage, and soon o
ur child, but I had to face my family.

  My guilt had been a constant companion, and though I thought I had shut the door on my past, it came at me with a vengeful axe. It would find me no matter where I went. I couldn’t run anymore; I had to stand and accept it. It would be harsh and ugly, but maybe it would give me peace. Maybe it would give everyone peace.

  Sage finally stirred and awakened. Turning to me, she offered a sleepy smile. It seemed the woman held secrets and mystery in the corners of her mouth—more so than even the Mona Lisa. I didn’t think I’d ever fully understand the quirk of those beautiful lips, even if I had years. And I would have years. We would have years. So many.

  I wanted to protect her from everything, even myself—and most definitely my parents. I was about to subject Sage to my family—they were like angry bears. Don’t feed the animals, folks; they aren’t tame!

  “Want some water?” I reached up and pressed the flight attendant call button.

  Sage nodded. “I cried most of the way to France, you know.”

  “I’m crying on the inside,” I drawled. “I wish I didn’t feel compelled to do this.”

  “Blasted adulthood.”

  “Blasted reevaluation,” I said. The flight attendant came, and I requested a bottle of water.

  “Maybe some pretzels?” Sage asked. “Please?”

  The woman turned off the call light and left.

  “Are you going to tell me the plan, or are we winging it?”

  “We’re seeing Reece’s parents first.”

  “It doesn’t seem fair to just show up on their front porch.”

  I paused. “They know I’m coming.”

  “Yeah, I know you called them to let them know.”

  “I called them again.”

  “Oh. Do they know about me?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “What about the baby? Are we going to tell them?”

  “Eventually.”

  Sage turned her eyes to the closed window and lifted the shade. “I wish we were already there. The waiting is killing me.”

  “They’ll love you.”

  “Will they?”

  “Of course.”

  “What about your family? And don’t lie to me.”

  “My grandmother, father, and brother will adore you.”

  “But your mother?”

  “My mother hates me right now, so there’s a good chance she’ll hate you too.” My tone and words had the desired effect I wanted—Sage laughed. I was kidding, sort of. I hadn’t spoken to my mother, but I didn’t need a crystal ball to know how she would react.

  •••

  It was just past lunchtime when we climbed the porch steps of Reece’s parents’ ranch house. We were tired and nervous. I’d had so much coffee I was jittery, but Sage remained calm.

  The screen was closed, but the main door was open; I could hear pans clattering in the kitchen and running water in the sink.

  I stared at nothing for a long moment, Sage’s hand gripping mine. I wondered if I ever would’ve found the courage if it hadn’t been for her. Probably not.

  With a deep breath, I finally rang the bell.

  A middle-aged woman with graying blonde hair and a flour-smudged face appeared through the screen. She opened the door and then threw herself at me, the sound of her crying in my ears. I hugged and patted her back as I rested my cheek against her head, closing my eyes. She dropped her arms and swiped the tears off her cheeks as she turned her curious gaze to Sage.

  “Alice, this is my wife, Sage.”

  Alice blinked. “Wife?”

  “It’s nice to meet—” Sage began, but was clearly caught off guard when Alice enveloped her in a strong hug.

  Pulling away, Alice smiled. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Sage. Go on into the kitchen. I’m going to run out to the barn and grab Keith.”

  “No doubt to warn him,” I said. Alice threw me a look, raised an eyebrow, and went to find her husband. It was good to know that some things hadn’t changed with time. She still had a sense of humor after everything she’d been through.

  “What was that?” Sage demanded. “I expected anger when you told her about me.”

  “She doesn’t think it’s out of character,” I explained with a wry grin, “even for me. I’m the kind of guy that leaves in the middle of the night on a whim, remember? It almost makes sense that I’d return with a wife.”

  We walked into the kitchen, and Sage settled into a worn chair while I opened the cupboard. Taking out two glasses, I went to the refrigerator and pulled out the carton of orange juice.

  Sage laughed. “You’re certainly at home here.”

  I smiled; it was both in pleasure and pain. The back door crashed open, and Keith Chelser stormed into the kitchen, his face wreathed in disbelief as if needing physical proof of my existence. The man was huge, a modern John Wayne, filling the kitchen with his height and breadth. He was what a cowboy hoped to look like.

  When I was a kid, I thought he could crush me. But I’d seen his bear-paw hands deliver foals. I’d wanted to be him. Keith had heart and a moral code that ancient warriors could have lived by. Being near him now made me realize my own code was at the bottom of a lake. I’d have to hold my breath, swim down to the dark muddy goop and retrieve it if I wanted it back.

  Keith embraced me, and then promptly withdrew and decked me across the jaw. I collapsed on scarecrow legs, but he immediately reached down to help me off the floor. I staggered like I was drunk, and Keith steadied me like I was a toy.

  There was that moral code.

  Looking at Sage, I grinned. She hesitantly smiled back, but then she stared at Keith, shooting him an angry glare.

  She stood and craned her neck to peer at him. The cowboy towered over her, and it made me swallow a laugh. A fight between Sage and Keith?

  I’d bet on Sage—always.

  “You punched my husband.”

  “Yep,” Keith said without apology. “Sage?”

  “Yeah?”

  He grinned. “Welcome to the family.”

  •••

  After a dinner of meatloaf and potatoes, and many hours of talking, Alice insisted we stay with them. She didn’t take no for an answer. I didn’t want to stay anywhere else anyway.

  The window drapes of the guest room were open, letting in the moonlight. Sage burrowed close to me.

  I inhaled deeply, and the muscles of my back relaxed as I exhaled. “You smell that?” I mumbled, pressing my head against hers. “It smells like sugar and nutmeg. It smells like home.”

  “It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, was it?”

  “No. They make it easy. Well, not easy, but they don’t make it worse.” The shock of seeing Alice and Keith had nearly felled me. I hadn’t been prepared for the tiny lines of pain at the corners of Alice’s eyes, put there by the grief of losing her only child. But she was like a rapier forged in fire now, hardened and almost unbreakable. Keith, on the other hand, looked like a tired, worn out saddle at the end of its life.

  “When are you going to see Lucy?”

  My voice was laced with guilt when I answered, “Soon. It’s going to be rough. I left her alone to deal with everything—she doesn’t have parents like the Chelsers. There’s no home for her like this…she’s alone.”

  “What about Tristan’s family?”

  “The Evanstons are proper, concerned with appearances. They’re the kind of people that retreat into themselves when bad things happen. Lucy might as well have been by herself.”

  “I can’t imagine what that must have been like for her,” Sage said. “I don’t think I could’ve been that strong.”

  I pressed my lips together in bitterness. “She shouldn’t have had to be that strong. I should’ve stayed.”

  She ran a hand through my hair, but said nothing. Sage didn’t try to absolve me, and I doubted I would’ve accepted absolution anyway.

  •••

  The next morning, Sage lifted her head from the
toilet and glared at me. “You rat bastard.”

  “I asked if you wanted me to hold your hair—you said no.”

  Rising from her spot on the bathroom floor, she went to the sink and washed out her mouth. “It’s bad enough I’ve had to give up coffee and scotch, but the constant puking? Not fair. I feel like I have chronic sea sickness.”

  “You’re beautiful.”

  “I’m green,” she snapped. “I look like Kermit the Frog.”

  I rubbed a knuckle against my lips, trying to hide my smile.

  “Fuck you.”

  I laughed.

  We went downstairs to the kitchen, and Sage sank into a chair. Alice was at the stove, flipping bacon. Keith sat at the table, enjoying a cup of a coffee and reading the newspaper.

  “Good morning,” Alice said. “You guys hungry?”

  “Famished,” Sage said. I stared at her and raised an eyebrow. She shrugged.

  “Famished?” Keith asked, lowering the newspaper. “I could’ve sworn I heard you throwing up right before I came downstairs.”

  Alice looked over her shoulder at Sage. “You feeling okay? Are you sick?”

  Sage glanced at me, and I nodded. She announced, “I’m pregnant.”

  Alice made a noise in the back of her throat, and Keith’s eyes widened.

  “Can you not tell my parents?” I asked.

  “You sound like a teenager,” Alice said with a grin.

  I rolled my eyes. “I’d just rather tell them in person.”

  “Like waiting to tell us about Sage until you were on our doorstep?” Alice teased. She patted Sage on the arm, and I knew I was right. Alice and Keith liked her. How could they not?

  Alice set a plate of food in front of Sage. “Congratulations, but eat slowly. Trust me.”

  Keith laughed. “Congratulations—to the both of you.”

  After we ate, we showered and headed out. When we were on our way, Sage looked at the colored bruise on my jaw and said, “God, he really decked you.”