“He wants to make every decision for me. I can’t let him, but standing up to him is exhausting. I wish I knew the right thing to do. I have to make plans.” Overwhelming panic crushed down. “But everything’s gone!”
“You don’t have to do it all today. I’ll help. I’m here as long as you need me.”
What if I need you forever? And you have to go back to California…
“Livie, I can see those gears churning away. He’s not running me off. We’ll get through today. One minute at a time, one hour at a time, like you told me. Worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.”
Her hope Daddy would let things drop at least for today was dashed the moment Dave headed upstairs to shower.
Daddy cornered her in the kitchen. “Livie, your mama and I want you to come home with us tomorrow. You need a break from the stress here. Come home and rest. There’s nothing here you can’t handle by phone for the next several weeks, if not through the New Year.”
The concern for her stress was the last straw. Livie gritted her teeth, folded her arms, and faced her parents. Time to break their hopes. Time to use what she’d learned through Dave and Jake’s examples and encouragement and show she was strong enough to choose her own path.
“No.”
Her nerves swooped in a rollercoaster plunge. Oh, my. She’d told Daddy an unqualified no for the first time in her life.
Olivia straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. “First off, I’m not moving back to Savannah. My home is in Florida. This is where I want to live. Secondly, I’m not returning to nursing. Ever. Yes, I was an excellent nurse, but I never wanted that career. I only became a nurse because I wanted to make you happy. The stress was eating me alive. No matter what you hope, it’s over.”
She took a steadying swallow of coffee against the sick swimming in her belly. She ignored Daddy’s sputtered protests and Mama’s quiet concerned interjections and readied her mind to face her next challenge in this talk.
She set her mug down sharply, interrupting the rising flood of parental upset. “No, and that’s final. Next, Daddy, you had no right to go behind my back and do what you and Uncle Jake did with R.J. I know everything. Yes, I’m glad the divorce was settled quickly. I can’t deny that. My marriage to R.J. was a disaster, but you shouldn’t have meddled in my divorce. You should have told me what you learned from the private investigator. It was my marriage and my divorce. My life. My decisions to make.”
“You’re our little girl. R.J. hurt you, and we didn’t see you were hurting. I had no choice but to fix the situation. We don’t want you hurt again. You’re making too many changes too fast, honey. You need to come home and consider your future.”
They hadn’t heard a word, had they? “I know you worry. I know you love me, but I’m an adult. Don’t go behind my back again. I love the business Uncle Jake built. The bar’s mine now, and I will rebuild. I’d like your blessing. I don’t need your permission. This doesn’t mean I don’t want your advice. I am simply telling you what I plan to do and what I want for me. Please trust me. I’ve learned a great deal about myself, what I’m good at, and what makes me happy. Let me love this new life I’m making for myself and be proud of me. I can do this. I love Dave. If he’s meant to remain in my life, please accept my choice.”
“He’s not the kind of man you need.”
“Dave’s a hundred times the man R.J. was! He’s a good man and I love him.” Her heart and stomach churned and her hands shook, but an astonishing weight lifted from Olivia’s heart and mind. She’d stood up for herself. She walked to the coffeemaker and refilled her cup.
“Olivia, you’re not thinking clearly.”
“I’m done discussing this.”
Mama wrung her hands. “Please at least come home for Thanksgiving, honey.”
She shook her head. “No, Mama, I have too much to take care of here. Now, you’ll have to excuse me, I need to shower.”
Daddy’s sober, set glower and Mama’s torn worry sent her heart sinking. She may have stood firm, but they weren’t ready to accept her independence.
True to his word, Dave stuck right at her side the whole day, strong and handsome in the white shirt, black slacks, and charcoal jacket and tie, staunch through every effort to separate them, the innocent and the purposeful, through the church service and the graveside service. He held her close and had tissues handy when she finally broke under a week’s worth of tears as the casket was lowered to join her aunt and cousin.
An interminable luncheon followed the funeral. As they waited for their entrees, Dave slipped his hand into hers, softly squeezed, and spoke softly in her ear. “What do you think? Does this meal count as a second date?”
Swallowing laughter and grief, her eyes filling at his attempt to cheer her, she whispered back, “Yes.”
****
Despite the welcome peace of the now empty house, Dave found the next few days were a hell of their own. He was unable to fix a damned thing for Livie as her parents’ strong desires and her grief and frustration kept her torn. She didn’t want to be held. She didn’t want comforting. She didn’t want to talk.
The evening of the nineteenth arrived, and Livie hadn’t made a decision on Thanksgiving at her parents. In this one small matter he’d nudge her along before the rift between her and her parents worsened.
He gathered her close in bed. “I want you to call your mom in the morning and tell her we’re coming for Thanksgiving. We’ll stay the one night, and drive home Friday morning.” Crazy how easily saying home came to him these days.
“It’s going to be…” She buried her face against his neck.
A total pain in the ass. A six-hour drive without counting in the holiday traffic problems. A pissed off dad. Fancy duds and small talk with strangers. But his comfort was far less important than her spending time with her parents.
“It’s going to be fine. No worries now. As I said before, Mrs. Quinn housebroke me years ago. I even know how to use those weird little forks.”
Livie laughed weakly and tightened her arms.
“Look, you need to be with your folks. Yeah, your dad might hassle you, but in the end, he can’t make you do anything you don’t want to. If being there gets too heavy for you, you give the word and we’ll leave. So, first thing tomorrow, call your mom. Okay?”
She sighed, long and weary. “Okay.”
They really had opposite parents, didn’t they? Livie’s parents cared, hovered, meddled. His parents? As hands off as could be without being criminally neglectful. But…
Scattered sparks of old memories he’d spent years avoiding fired in his mind, lighting off new recollections—happy, ignorant ones from long before the fire destroyed the house and his parents’ dreams. Mom’s laughter and clapping as he played “Pop Goes the Weasel” on the piano, Dad handing him a tiny, squirming, yipping Barney, teaching him to train the pup…
He also remembered the angry jerk-ass stuff he’d done after the fire, desperate to get their attention, scared by their depression and slide into addiction, but he’d only baffled and hurt them and distanced them all the more. He’d give anything to change so much.
Dark and early on Thanksgiving morning, they loaded his truck. Her new dress and his rental tux hung together in the garment bag. Livie had spent the prior day fighting her stress by baking up a storm and the spicy scent of her efforts filled the truck.
Before starting the engine, he pulled the flat jeweler’s box from his jacket pocket.
He cleared his throat. “I got you something.” He set the box into her hand. “So if things get heavy, you can remember I’m there with you.”
She opened the box. “Oh, it’s beautiful. Thank you.” She let him clasp the delicate chain about her neck.
He’d worried the heart shape might be corny, but on her the modest diamond and gold pendant glinting above her breasts was perfect.
“I love you.” His declaration slipped out, straight and easy. Those three little words hit him with a rush. H
e’d been a fool waiting so long to tell her that simple truth.
“I know. I love you, too.” Her sweet joyous smile would stay with him the rest of his life.
He stroked her hair and drew her close into a slow, soft, heated kiss, just mouths touching, full of promise.
One last kiss, and he pulled away. “No worries now, okay?” He turned the key.
The miles flew by, the only traffic hassle was in Jacksonville, and they arrived at her parents’ home just before noon. He’d seen pictures, but viewing the genteel mansion set in its pristine landscaping drove home their different backgrounds.
Stop. Doesn’t matter. Livie’s all that matters.
Louise must have been watching at the window because she flew out the front door and met them on the steps before he’d parked the truck. The teary hug between Livie and her mom was worth whatever annoyances lurked ahead, and Louise had a warm smile and kiss hello for him, buoying his determination to make this evening work for Livie.
Louise drew Dave through the reintroductions to Livie’s relatives. This party was uncomfortably like Wake Part Two. For Dave, standing on the periphery of conversations with strangers about other strangers was mostly boring, but Livie’s strain remained high.
Paul arrived downstairs, and the tense, reserved greeting between Livie and her dad worried Dave. Maybe pushing her into this was a mistake after all. Paul shook his hand, cool but civil, and made small talk about the drive and weather.
Lunch was informal grazing on appetizers and snacks, leaving Dave wishing Livie and he could escape down the road for a good burger and a ball game. These people didn’t even watch the parade. The afternoon dragged on, and the only bright spots were when Livie’s hand slipped into his, or rested lightly on his waist, or when she’d nestle into his embrace.
Finally, Louise excused herself to dress for dinner and others followed.
Dave gave a private cheer for the intermission in small talk. “I suppose I should find where my clothes are stashed.”
“Helen told me. Come on, I’ll show you.” Carrying her wine with her, Livie led him up the elegant curving staircase.
He ran a hand over the satiny, handcrafted banister. Dad would have loved this place. Her parents kept the home in gleaming, museum-quality perfection. “Lloyd would get a kick out of this house. You ever see his custom work?”
“I’ve seen pictures of some of his projects, and their house is gorgeous. Daddy did much of the restoration around here himself. I’ll have to show you the before and after photo album. It wasn’t as rundown as Christopher and Margie’s place, but I remember Mama teasing him about always smelling of varnish and polish.”
He’d never have picked Paul as one to work with his hands, but the attention to detail fit the man.
“Mama’s office will be your room tonight. Okay?” She cast him an apologetic glance and led him into a sitting room containing a feminine desk, computer, rows of serious books lining the walls, and a wrought iron daybed overlooking the gardens. His tux hung ready on the door and his bag sat beside the daybed.
Livie wrapped her arms around his waist. “I wish you were staying in my room with me, but…”
Dave tipped her face to his. “I’m cool. It’s one night. A few hours.” He kissed her lightly. “Anyone ever tell you, you worry too much?”
She laughed. “I’ll show you the bathroom you can use.”
He grabbed his toiletry kit and clothes.
As they stepped into the hall, her aunt Julia flounced through an adjacent door swathed in a skimpy robe and towel-wrapped hair. He probably flushed more than her aunt during the brief hello.
“Guess that’s the bathroom.”
Livie’s cheeks pinked. “That one will be overrun with my aunts and cousins. You’ll share mine.”
She led him through the last door. He’d have known this bedroom was hers just by the light scent of her perfume and familiar warm feminine style.
He brushed a kiss to her cheek. “Let me clean up quick while you relax and finish your wine. Then you can take your time getting ready.”
“Okay.” Livie curled into the easy chair and sipped at her wine.
He showered briskly, shaved carefully, and dressed, knotting the tie right on the first try. He tidied his stuff on the counter where she’d left him space and stepped from the bathroom.
“All done.”
The heat warming Livie’s luminous brown eyes and smile made the day’s petty annoyances fade away.
He gathered her into a kiss, slow and savoring. “Can’t wait to see you in that dress.”
Back in her mother’s office, he slipped off the jacket and stretched out on the daybed for a quick catnap.
Twenty minutes later, his cell buzzed with Livie on the line. “I need help with my zipper. The door’s unlocked.”
“Be right there.”
He found Livie in front of a cheval mirror. The long, sleek emerald dress hugged her slim body with clever tucks and pleats, demure and mouth-wateringly sexy at the same time. His necklace glittered at her cleavage. If only this party was long over.
“Oh, sweetheart, you’re beautiful.”
She smiled. “And so are you.”
“Yeah, I clean up okay on occasion.” He winked.
“I’d forgotten the saleslady helped me zip.” She turned, displaying the lovely line of her back. “I’m stuck.”
He pressed a kiss to her nape and slowly drew up the zipper. Wrapping her in his arms, he met her eyes in the mirror. “I’m with you, all the way. No worries tonight.”
Livie nodded. “No worries.”
Mixing and mingling at this fancy party was like playing a part in one of those old movies JoAnn loved so much. Louise introduced him around to new arrivals as Livie’s young man and a firefighter, which he supposed was a positive upgrade from “friend,” and he let correcting the career slide. The food was outstanding, the wine was great, the crowd kept Paul on his best behavior, and seeing Livie finally relax made wearing the tux and tie worth the trouble.
By the time the last guest said goodnight, Dave’s leg was grumbling, and he was ready to hit the sack. He walked Livie to her bedroom door. “Need help with the zip?”
“Please.”
The hallway was clear of aunts, cousins, and other relations. He drew down the zipper, enjoying the long, slow reveal of skin, the delicate black lace band of her bra, and finally, the small matching triangle of panties. He stroked her sleek, silk-covered hips and turned her to him, taking the openmouthed, hungry, sweet kiss that he’d been needing all day and that would have to hold him for the night.
Livie stiffened and jerked away with a tiny choking noise, looking down the hall with wide eyes.
Dave glanced over his shoulder. Ah, shit. Paul stood by the stairs, wearing a damn good poker face.
He caressed her cheek, dropped a tender kiss to her lips, wishing her worries away. “No worries now. Sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.” He drew the door closed between them and faced Paul.
Paul flicked an inscrutable glance over Dave. “Join me for a drink?”
Hell, fine. “Sure.” He followed Paul downstairs into a classic mahogany and leather study.
Paul poured drinks from two different decanters. Still wearing that serious poker face, he handed Dave one chunky amber-filled glass. “Have a seat.”
Dave eased into the leather wingback chair, a sigh escaping him as the usual aches flared.
Paul’s gaze sharpened. “Are you in pain?” He sounded almost concerned.
“I’m fine. Simply too much standing.” He sipped at the fine smoky single malt.
“Louise tells me I have you to thank for Olivia being here today.” Paul settled into the opposite chair like a king taking his throne.
“Family needs to be together.”
“She’s angry with me.”
“She wants your support, and she’s grieving.”
“I love my daughter.” Paul gave him a long withering stare. “Wi
th R.J. I made a serious misjudgment of character. I will not let her rebound from a failed marriage into another relationship only to be hurt again.”
Dave locked gazes with Paul. “I love Livie.” No staring match could shake him on that truth. “No matter what the future holds, I will always do my best for her.” He understood his dad better now, how Mom remained the absolute center of Dad’s life despite their demons.
Dad’s grumble ghosted through his mind: If you’re going to do something, do it right the first damned time.
Dad may have sucked as a parent, but he’d faithfully practiced that theory in his love for Mom to his last breath. For the first time in his life, Dave was glad he was something like his dad. He’d found his own center in Livie.
He loved Livie. If he’d loved Tess like he loved Livie, he never would have let them break apart. What he’d called love then, and what he had now with Livie, was the difference between a match flame and a forest fire. A match flame was hot, but held only potential, too easily snuffed. A forest fire changed everything and opened the way for nature to bring new life to the land.
“Livie mentioned you’ll be returning to California. I have some connections in Sacramento and Portland in private land conservancy—”
“No,” Dave interrupted firmly, biting down his anger. “As for firefighting, that’s over.” Somehow, stating that here and now, after all the miles of running from decisions, made the truth more final. More true. Not just because of the leg. In a way, that life he’d loved had been as toxic for him as smoke, the duty and danger letting him run from the real risks: his relationships with the people in his life. “No disrespect intended, but, as I’ve told you before, I’m not leaving Livie. As long as she needs me, I’m here.”
“And if she no longer needs you…” Paul trailed off coolly.
Dave took a swallow of whisky to keep from telling the man to go to hell. Had Paul given R.J. this talk? Maybe he should have. Hell, if Paul tried to buy him off again…“Look, Paul, I figure you’ve checked me out. Hell, you probably know my bank balances.” Got a twitch out of Paul on that shot. “They’re a spit in the bucket compared to what R.J. had to offer financially, but I’ve been comfortable. I don’t need your money or Livie’s. I can offer Livie what R.J. never did: I’ll do my damnedest to see she reaches every last one of her dreams. If she wants to rebuild the bar, I’m backing her. If she wants to sell, I’m backing her.”
Love Burns Page 31