As she looked at her husband, she had to admit that she was to blame here, as well. She and Aidan had to fight for their marriage. They’d never had to before this, but now everything hinged on both of them seeing what they were about to lose. “There’s no point in rehashing the past where Emma is concerned. We both should have found a way to talk to each other about this.”
His eyes searched her face, his gaze filled with love and longing. “All I’ve ever wanted is you, Grace. I can’t help believing that, if we work on it, we can be happy again.” He eased closer, the scent of his skin intoxicating. “We can be a family.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
AIDAN COULDN’T STOP himself from putting his arm around Grace’s shoulders. He needed to touch her, to feel her close to him while he waited for her to speak. What would she say? Would she feel pressured by Emma’s needs to answer him before she was ready? But she’d come here to see him, and that had to mean she wanted to work things out.
Or maybe her only reason for being here was to get her quilting fabric. They’d talked a little when she first came to the house, but she hadn’t committed to anything other than that they needed to talk. Something they’d both agreed they needed to do long before she arrived at the door.
“Grace, please believe me when I tell you I’ve changed. This does not have to be resolved right this minute. You came over here to get your parcel. I’m the one who assumed that you might be willing to be here for Emma. I dragged you into my problem of finding someone to replace Lisa. That wasn’t fair.”
“With Emma in our lives, it’s crucial that we face what is going on between us. I accept that you made your decision about me and my role here so as not to confuse her, but if we don’t decide what we’re doing, how we’re going to live, we will confuse her even more.”
His heart sank to his stomach. Was she saying that they couldn’t fix their differences over Emma? Each time he saw Grace with Emma he was more and more certain that she was falling in love with their child. “Then what do we tell Emma when she asks who you are? Do we say you’re a friend? If we aren’t getting back together, will you still want to be part of Emma’s life? You have to help me here, Grace. I’m lost and afraid that it’s all over between us.”
She stood before him, her face turned to his, a sad smile hovering on her lips. “I love you, Aidan. I came here not only for my fabric, but also to work on how to solve our issues. I was so afraid to come here.”
He started to interrupt, eager to explain she needn’t be afraid of him, but she put her hand over his mouth to stop him.
“Aidan, we can’t let our marriage go. We’ve been through a rough patch, but I have to believe we can work this out.”
“Grace, the truth is this. I don’t deserve your kindness and caring. But if you’re willing to work on this, I will do whatever it takes to have you back here in my life.”
He drew in a deep breath to ease the thundering in his chest. “We can do this, but we have to be clear what is going on in our lives where Emma is concerned. If there is one thing I’ve learned in the short time she’s been with me, it’s that she has to feel safe, to know that people love her. And we still have to get through Lisa’s return to Spartanburg and how Emma will cope with that,” he said, pulling Grace’s hand closer to his chest in an attempt to draw her to him.
He smiled at her, holding her close as he remembered how stupidly he’d behaved. “I wish I’d listened to you. If I had, and we’d made a plan for putting our family together, none of this would have happened.”
“We don’t know that. I doubt very much that any child could lose their mother and not have issues that needed to be dealt with.”
He was so thankful for her words. But not nearly as thankful as he felt with her beside him, talking with him, sharing her thoughts. “Are you ready to be a full-time mom? Ready to forgive me for screwing everything up? If we are going to be with each other, we need to figure out how that will work, at least, as much as we can. I realize we won’t get everything right, but if we can find a way to be happy as a family...”
He had to find out what would happen next or die trying. “What do you want to do? I really want you to tell me what you think would work out best for you, for all three of us.”
She didn’t say anything for so long he began to panic. What was she thinking? What would he do if she didn’t feel she could be part of his life?
Steady. Trust yourself. Trust her.
Her eyes met his. He knew by her expression that she’d made a decision. His body felt drained, finished.
“Aidan, I don’t want to rehash the past few weeks and what’s gone on between us. You’re right when you say we need to make a decision, both for us and for Emma. Especially Emma.”
She looked up into his face and it was as if the sky had brightened. “What you did hurt me so much. But what you said is true. It was years ago, and I believe you when you say you didn’t continue to see Deidre. I want to be with you. I want us to be a family.”
He wanted to yell for joy as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her face, her eyes, her lips, while his hands roamed over her back, down her body. Her sudden intake of breath fanned his desire. “I’ve missed you. Every day. Every minute of every day.” He smoothed his hands over her body, feeling all the familiar spaces, her curves, the bony crest of her collarbone. He loved all of it.
“I missed you, too...so much. It’s been awful being without you. It was so strange to come to my house, see things being done differently and realize that if I didn’t work things out with you I would not be coming to this house, our home, ever again.”
“So, what do we do now?”
“Can we think of something, some way to spend time together as a family? Away from here? Away from all the reminders of what we nearly did to each other?” Grace asked, letting her fingers play along the open neck of his shirt, her touch making him wish that there was no one in the house but them.
As his eyes met hers, he could be certain of only one thing. If they’d been alone, he would have taken her upstairs and made love to her.
“We could always spend a day with Emma at a theme park where she could play. We could watch her be happy. If she asks who you are, we can say that you and I are her family.”
“How do we know what she’ll ask when we go back into the house?” Grace asked.
“We don’t,” he said, running over the possibilities, all the while distracted by the way Grace’s body fitted along his, the scent of her hair, the warmth of her skin. “Maybe we should go in now and tell her who you are. Why you’re here.”
“And what if she is so upset she can’t be soothed? What if she can’t accept me as part of her life, not to mention the idea that I would be her mother? Maybe we should wait for a little while until she’s more settled?”
Aidan met Grace’s anxious gaze and knew only one thing. He and Grace would once again be in the same bed tonight. Whatever needed to happen, whatever explanations were necessary, he would not live without her for another night. “I’m going to talk to Emma about this. I’m going to explain who you are, how important you are to me, how much I love you. And then I have to have faith that our daughter will be okay with it.”
Grace felt a shiver of anxiety. What if what Aidan wanted to do turned out to be a catastrophe, with Emma inconsolable and calling for her mother? “There has to be a better way. I mean we need to find a way to convince Emma that I’m not taking her mommy’s place and that she can feel safe.” Worried, she snuggled against Aidan, eliciting a sigh of pleasure from him.
“Wish you and I could stay like this, have nothing to think about or worry over for at least a few days.” He leaned closer, kissing her lips, awakening her need for him, for all they had missed while living separately.
“Wish we could, too...” She turned to Aidan, catching the look in his eyes, a look of devotion that swept thro
ugh her heart. She sat up straight, suddenly alive with an idea. “What if we took Emma to Disney World for a vacation, even just a couple days? We could do it right after Lisa leaves so that Emma has something fun to do. It might make losing Lisa a little easier for her. That way she wouldn’t feel she was losing you when we talk casually about me coming home, and she sees how much fun the three of us can have as a family. If we do this right she will not feel left out or threatened by me being around.”
Every ounce of Aidan’s attention was focused on Grace, making her feel cherished and cared for. “You are a genius,” he said enthusiastically. “That would work out perfectly. I’ll book us into the Disney resort in Florida. We will have so much fun, the three of us.” He grabbed her, pulled her to her feet and walked with his arm around her shoulders as they approached the patio doors. “Holding you, having you here with me feels so good,” he murmured into her hair as he opened the door into the house.
Their entrance into the family room was met with a squeal of delight from Emma. “Daddy! Lisa and I need to show you something.” She took his hand, pulling him into the living room. “See!”
“See what?” he asked, searching the lawn.
“Right there.” Emma pointed toward the hibiscus bush near the corner of the flower bed in front of the window. The rabbit, his nose wiggling, was peering out from under the shrub. “I love him. Can he be my rabbit?” she asked, her face turned up to her father.
Love overflowed his heart. “Yes, he can be your rabbit.”
“I’ve already named him. His name is Sam,” she said, a look of mischief in her wide blue eyes.
“Sam. Sounds good to me. What do you think, Grace?” he asked as she came up behind them.
Grace was struck by the thought that at any other time in her marriage she would have reached out, put her arm around his waist and hugged him. But with Emma watching and her uncertainty about their relationship despite Aidan’s profession of love, she hung back.
Standing beside him, seeing him with his daughter, Grace was struck by how much they looked alike, each with curly auburn hair and wide smiles.
She glanced around the wide foyer, the long length of window forming one wall of the living room, the dining room beyond the living room, its table set as if waiting for the fun and laughter of a dinner party.
Aidan turned his smile on her, making her tummy tingle. “Are we sure this rabbit is a boy?” he asked.
“Not sure. But the name works. If needed we can change the name to Samantha, Sam for short,” she said, noting that Emma was suddenly showing a great deal of interest in her. “What do you think?” she asked, leaning down toward Emma.
“Just Sam.” Emma shook her fist for emphasis. “The rabbit is mine. He looks really, really hungry. I want to get more carrot and some lettuce and see if he will eat it from my hand,” she said, heading back down the hall toward the kitchen. They followed, glancing at each other.
As Grace moved toward the kitchen with Aidan, she had the sensation that she was coming home: home to a life of toys everywhere, Cheerios in the cereal cupboard and a little girl who was enthusiastic about everything.
“We’re the lucky ones, aren’t we?” she said, hugging Aidan close, her smile open, her heart humming. “We are in our home with our daughter.”
“Life doesn’t get much better than this, Mrs. Fellowes,” Aidan said. “We’ll get packed and take Emma away on our first family vacation to Disney World.”
He pulled her into his arms, kissed the breath from her lips. “Welcome home, my love.”
* * * * *
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Meant to Be Hers
by Joan Kilby
CHAPTER ONE
WHERE WAS FINN? Carly Maxwell scanned the funeral guests clustered around her late aunt Irene’s living room for the tall, dark-haired musical prodigy. Finn Farrell had been Irene’s star pupil, his family’s greatest hope and Carly’s teenage crush. He should be here. He’d disappointed her aunt enough during her lifetime. Did he have to add to it after her death?
Carly moved among the guests, pouring tea from a huge earthenware teapot, trying to hold herself together when all she wanted to do was curl up under the covers and bawl her eyes out. It didn’t help that she was still on New York time and jet-lagged.
“More tea, Brenda?” Carly paused before her cousin, a comfortably plump blonde in her early forties who had sunk deep into soft sofa cushions.
“Yes, please.” Brenda’s blue eyes were sympathetic as Carly poured unsteadily into a hand-thrown pottery mug. “You’ve been on your feet since early this morning. Can I take the tea around for you?”
“Thanks, but no,” Carly said. “If I stop moving I might never get going again.”
In fact, she hadn’t stopped the entire week, from the moment she’d heard about Irene’s death. Finn’s Facebook message had popped into her work inbox like a Molotov cocktail, exploding her crammed diary into shards of missed meetings, unreturned phone calls and hurried apologies. Rushing back to her apartment, she’d listened to voice mail messages from her aunt’s neighbor, Frankie, who was worried about Irene’s dog, and Irene’s lawyer, Peter King, who said her aunt had listed Carly as next of kin.
Carly had caught the red-eye from New York to Seattle, rented a car, and driven up to Fairhaven, Washington, an historic district at the south end of Bellingham. Grief-stricken and in a daze, she’d arranged for a celebrant, put notices in the newspapers and on Irene’s social media, organized the funeral home and the caterers. After the service Carly had invited everyone to Irene’s three-story Queen Anne home on South Hill for the reception.
Now here they all were. With barely a moment yet to shed a tear she had a feeling she would look back and think the organizing and activity was the easy part. Dealing with her grief was going to be harder.
“Sit down a moment, at least.” Brenda patted the taupe cushion next to her. “We haven’t had a chance to talk.”
Carly sank onto the couch, cradling the warm teapot against her navy suit jacket. “Could you hear me okay when I was giving the eulogy? I wasn’t s
ure if I spoke loudly enough.” She’d choked up, every painful pause thick with sorrow. Several of Irene’s friends and music students had also spoken. One young girl broke down completely and had to be led off by her mother.
“You were great.” Brenda clutched a damp, shredded tissue. “I couldn’t have done it.”
Carly blinked away the salty moisture burning her eyes. “I can’t believe she’s gone. Only fifty-eight.”
“Fifty-eight going on eighteen,” Brenda said with a watery smile. “She was so much fun.”
“Thank God she isn’t alive to witness her own funeral.” Carly glanced around at the somber faces. A girl drooped over the keyboard of the Steinway grand piano, softly picking out minor chords. The gloomy atmosphere was at odds with Irene’s uproarious house parties in happier days. “She would have hated all this weeping into hankies.”
“Everyone’s shell-shocked,” Brenda said. “Irene was so full of life, it’s hard to believe she could die so quickly. I guess that’s what can happen with a brain aneurysm.”
“Is it?” Carly asked dully. “I have no idea.”
“I Googled it,” Brenda said. “Sometimes people survive but have brain damage. Sometimes they go like that.” She clicked her fingers.
“Don’t, please,” Carly begged. “I can’t help thinking that if someone had been with her, she might have survived.” And not just anyone—her. If she’d accepted Irene’s invitation to go on the Alaska cruise, her aunt might be alive today.
“You shouldn’t torture yourself. That’s an impossible question to answer.” Brenda sighed and patted Carly’s arm. “It’s good to see you, even under the circumstances.”
“Are you staying in town long?”
“I have to go back to Portland tomorrow. Work.”
“I should be going back to work, too, but there’s too much to do here.” Carly chewed the inside of her cheek, tasting blood. The timing of Irene’s death couldn’t have been worse from her perspective. Her high-pressure job as a recruitment consultant for executives had started only a few months ago and already she’d had to ask for time off.
Bringing Emma Home Page 23