“That’s some trick,” Paul said.
“I’ve got mad skills,” she joked as she changed the pillowcases. “How about a clean shirt?”
“Are you going to help me change that, too?”
“Nah,” she said, managing to keep her voice even. “I think you can handle that.”
She grabbed a white T-shirt from his drawer. He pulled on the bottom of the shirt he was wearing and began tugging it up. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the smooth brown skin covering his six-pack abs. He blew out a breath and coughed. Unbelievably, he was having a hard time untangling himself from his shirt. The man who’d carried her with ease was losing a battle with a few ounces of cotton? Obviously, he was sicker than he let on. “Here, let me help.”
Roz freed his head and arms, tossed the damp shirt on the floor, then helped him pull on the clean one.
“Thanks,” he said, then flopped back onto the pillows as if sitting up was exhausting. “I hate being so weak. I don’t understand how I got sick.”
“I do,” she said, pulling the blankets up to his chin, tucking him in like he was a child. But there was nothing childish about his body and nothing at all maternal about the feelings bubbling inside her. “You’ve been running yourself ragged for months. You’ve been taking care of me and the kids in addition to managing your company. You’re only human. It was bound to catch up with you.”
He shook his head. “I’ve always been busy. I own a string of gyms, so taking care of you guys is a piece of cake by comparison.”
“Physically. But you’re ignoring the emotional stress that comes with caring for three kids.”
He closed his eyes in apparent agreement. Or maybe he was just too worn-out to argue. It didn’t matter anyway. Regardless of how strong he was, he was sick and needed someone to take care of him.
The irony of the situation didn’t escape her. He’d come to Sweet Briar to care for her and her children. Now she was on the road to recovery and he was flat on his back. She didn’t wish him ill but she was glad for the opportunity to pay him back for all he’d done for her. It put balance into their previously unequal relationship. Before, she’d been the needy one. The taker. She’d had no choice but to lean on him.
Now he needed her. He’d learn how it felt to rely on someone else to provide his most basic needs. It wouldn’t hurt to be the one with the power this time. So often, she’d chafed at having to rely on him for something as basic as getting in and out of the bathtub. She’d hated being so weak that she’d often needed assistance dressing herself. It had been empowering to help Paul change his undershirt just now. Not that she relished his weakness. She just gloried in her strength.
And it hadn’t hurt to get a glimpse of his body. He’d seen hers enough times. While hers had become a bag of bones—thank goodness she’d put on a few pounds and was regaining some of the curves she’d lost—he was ripped. Clearly, he did more than own the gyms. He worked out there, as well. His abs were well-defined and his chest and shoulders were so muscular he could carry the weight of the world on them without breaking a sweat.
In a way, he’d done just that. He hadn’t carried the actual planet. But her kids were her world and he’d taken care of them for months. He’d never once complained about the inconvenience or the disruption to his life. He’d just soldiered on, day after day, without taking a break. No wonder he was sick. Her shoulders slumped and her cheeks burned with shame. Paul was sick and she’d felt happy about being the strong one for a change.
Roz grabbed the balls of tissue from the side table and floor. She considered opening the window in order to let in fresh air, then decided against it. The nights had been pretty cool and she didn’t want to make him worse. Taking one last look at him, she crossed the room and silently closed the door behind her. Paul might be leaving soon, but for the time being, he needed her. She would take care of him just as he’d taken care of her and her family.
And when the time came, she would let him go with a smile on her face. She owed him that much.
Chapter Thirteen
“Come in,” Paul growled at the knock on the bedroom door. It had to be Roz since Nathaniel was playing in a basketball game and the girls had stayed after school to watch with Charlotte.
Rick had stopped by earlier and, despite Paul’s protest, had examined him. After that unwanted checkup, Rick had diagnosed Paul with the flu, something Paul had already figured out. Rick had then given an unwelcome lecture about taking better care of himself and wasted more of Paul’s time extolling the value of getting a flu shot.
At first, Paul had been glad to see his friend, believing Rick would convince Roz to stay away from him for the sake of her own health, but the good doctor hadn’t agreed. Rick believed Roz was taking the necessary precautions to protect herself. He’d then pointed out that if the kids got sick after Paul left, Roz would have to take care of them. As if Paul didn’t have enough to worry about. He’d spent the past hour brooding over that possibility.
“Aren’t you Mr. Sunshine?” Roz asked, a smirk on her face. He’d forgotten how much she disliked whiners. So did he. But he just couldn’t stop complaining.
“If you don’t like my company, why do you keep bothering me?”
She laughed, a merry sound that, despite his aching body, stirred something inside him that was best left undisturbed. “I never said I didn’t like your company, Mr. Grumpy. Besides, I come bearing gifts.”
The aroma of chicken soup grew stronger as Roz came closer to the bed. The tray she was holding also contained a cup of tea and a small glass of orange juice. And was that Jell-O? He’d never been much of a fan, but now a bowl of that jiggling red stuff looked good. Oh, he must be sick.
Sitting up slowly, he leaned against the head of the bed, smoothed the blanket over his lap and reached for the tray. “Thanks. This looks good.”
“You’re welcome.” Roz said. “I have ginger ale if you want some.”
“Not now. Maybe later.” He sampled the soup. It tasted too good to have come from a can. After taking a couple of swallows, he looked up at her. Dressed in an orange sweater and tight jeans that made his pulse race, she looked too good to spend the next hour sitting on metal bleachers. “Aren’t you going to Nathaniel’s game?”
“No. They play another game on Friday. I’ll go to that one. He understands that you’re sick.”
“I’m not so sick that I can’t manage on my own for a few hours. That’s what I would do if I was at home.” Of course, if Roz’s theory that he’d gotten run-down taking care of her and the kids was accurate, he wouldn’t be sick. Truth be told, Roz’s care disturbed him. It felt too right. Too natural. As if she were fulfilling a vow to care for him in sickness and in health, as he’d cared for her.
“Maybe. But you’re not alone at home. You’re here with me. I’m willing and able to nurse you back to health.”
“Still, it’s important to a kid to have his parents come to his sporting events.” Paul’s mother had attended as many games as she could. It had felt good knowing she was there even when he couldn’t see her. He’d always played better knowing she was watching, cheering him on.
“And I usually go. I missed some because I was sick, but other than that, I’ve been at every game. I attend all of the kids’ activities. I’ve been to every preschool graduation, kindergarten promotion and school musical. Nathaniel understands that you need someone to take care of you. Besides, Rick and Charlotte are taking the kids to the diner after the game. Nathaniel gets to hang out with Bobby and they all get to eat greasy food. Not to mention the added benefit of skipping vegetables because Charlotte won’t make the kids eat them.”
Charlotte had an aversion to vegetables and never let one past her lips. Not being a hypocrite, she wouldn’t make the kids eat them either.
He swallowed some more soup, liking the way the liquid soothed his sore throat before making a
warm path to his stomach. “You’re a good mother.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. What? It wasn’t like he’d never complimented her. He closed his eyes. That’s exactly what it was like. He’d never complimented her. Not that he hadn’t thought she was a good mother. But saying the words out loud would have weakened the wall he was trying so hard to hold in place. It hadn’t occurred to him that she might need a compliment, especially with Suzanne’s struggles of late. He blew out a painful breath as he realized just how big a jerk he’d been. He’d been holding on to anger and resentment over her decision to marry Terrence. And though he’d recently let it go, he hadn’t told Roz. As far as she knew, he still resented her. He owed her so many apologies.
“I’m sorry, Roz.” He’d been so whiny and self-pitying.
“For what? Saying I’m a good mom? That’s not an insult.”
“I’m apologizing for not saying it sooner and for being such a jerk. You didn’t deserve that.” His voice caught in his throat, making it difficult to speak. He chalked it up to the flu—not to being overcome with emotion. At least, that was the story he told himself.
Her body stilled for a moment as his words sank in, then she dropped onto the mattress beside him. She was blinking rapidly, as if trying to hold back unwanted tears. One slid down her cheek and his gut clenched in agony. He’d done the unthinkable. He’d made Roz cry.
He lifted the tray and set it beside him, then, reaching out, wiped away the tear. Her skin was so soft, just as soft as the heart she hadn’t been able to protect from the world. She’d always worn her heart on her sleeve, unable to hide her emotions no matter how hard she tried. Not that she really tried. She’d always been open to a fault.
“Sorry,” she said, pulling away. “I don’t know why I turned into a blubbering baby.”
“I guess the stress of the past few months is taking its toll on you, too.”
She shrugged. The doorbell rang and she stood as if eager to be away from him and this suddenly emotionally charged moment. “I’ll be back for your tray later. Let me know if you need anything.”
I need you. The words leaped to his mind and nearly found a way out of his mouth. For the first time, that kind of thought didn’t make him think he needed to have his head examined. Because he now knew that needing Roz didn’t necessarily mean he would end up with a shredded heart.
* * *
Roz darted from the room, glad to have an excuse to get away from Paul and the emotions he aroused in her. For a moment, they’d been communicating, connecting in the way they had years ago. It had felt so right that she’d let down her guard and let him get a glimpse of what she’d been keeping inside. That had been a mistake.
They couldn’t go back to what they’d had. They’d agreed the past was over and they were putting it behind them. That didn’t mean just the anger. That meant everything. That included their hopes and dreams for a shared future. She needed to really accept that the love—or whatever it had been—was gone and wouldn’t return. She’d wasted enough time wishing for the impossible. She’d been given a miracle: the gift of more time with her kids. Now she needed to get her life back on track.
She’d already talked to her boss about going back to work part-time in a few weeks. Maybe seeing Roz do that would help Suzanne overcome her fear. Maybe Suzanne needed to see that things were returning to normal. But Roz had more love in her heart to share. Love she wanted to give to a man. Once her life was under control, she wanted to start dating again. This time she’d give her love to a man who wanted it and who would love her in return.
She reached the door just as the doorbell pealed again. Looked like they were anxious to see her. Or maybe someone needed to go to the bathroom.
“Hi, Mommy,” Suzanne said as Roz swung open the door. “We had fun, but I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” Roz hugged each of her children then looked at Nathaniel. “Well? How did it go?”
“We won. I scored twelve points and stole the ball once.”
“Wow. That’s great.”
“Bobby scored fifteen.”
Roz turned and smiled at her son’s best friend and the best player on the team, according to Nathaniel. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” He grinned sheepishly.
“And thank you for taking them to the game,” she said to Charlotte, who had come inside with the kids. “And for taking them to dinner. I really appreciate it.”
Charlotte smiled. “No problem. It was nice to hang out with young women for a change.”
“Do you mean us?” Megan asked, eyes wide.
“Yep.”
Suzanne and Megan exchanged smiles and giggled. Megan tugged on Roz’s hand. “Did you hear that, Mommy? We’re young women.”
“You are indeed. Two young women who need to take baths and then get ready for bed.”
“Okay.” They turned and raced to the stairs. When they reached the bottom, they turned. “Bye, Charlotte. Bye, Bobby.”
“Bye,” Charlotte replied, then looked at Roz. “They really are sweet.”
“Thanks. How was Suzanne?”
Charlotte shrugged. “It’s hard to tell. She didn’t say too much about you. I don’t know if that’s good or bad. She did go on about a bad man throwing sand at people.”
Roz sighed and told Charlotte about Paul’s offhand comment. “I wonder if the school counselor is wrong. Maybe I need to consider the possibility that there are deeper issues I need to explore. Maybe she needs to see a psychologist.”
“Give it another week or two. Bobby had a few issues, too. Different issues, but he worked them out in time. Suzanne could do the same.” Charlotte gave her a hug. “I’m here if you need to talk.”
“Thanks.”
“Sure.” Charlotte turned to Bobby, who was sitting next to Nathaniel on the couch. Bobby was whispering fiercely about something and Nathaniel’s head bobbed. “Okay, guys. Bobby’s dad is waiting in the car, so you’ll have to finish this conversation tomorrow at school. And not during class time. At lunch. Got it?”
“Okay.” Bobby jumped up and raced to the door. He started to follow Charlotte out, then paused and looked back at Nathaniel. “Remember what I told you. See you tomorrow.”
Roz closed and locked the door, then turned to Nathaniel. “What was that all about?”
Nathaniel didn’t meet her eyes. “Nothing.”
“Okay,” she said, deciding not to pry. Nathaniel was entitled to his secrets. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders. He was shooting up so fast, he would be taller than she was in no time. As it was, they were very nearly eye to eye. “So you had a good time?”
“Yeah. It would have been better if you were there.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t.”
“I know. You needed to take care of Uncle Paul like he used to take care of you.”
“Right. You know if he wasn’t sick he would have come, too.”
“I know.”
Roz sensed he wanted to say more, so she waited. When he didn’t, she kissed his cheek. “Go on upstairs. I’ll be up in a minute to say good-night.”
He gave her a quick hug then bounded up the stairs.
Twenty minutes later, she was sitting between the girls, ready to read them a story.
“We should go into Uncle Paul’s room so he can hear the story, too,” Megan said, rising from her bed. “He likes reading about Little Red Riding Hood.”
“I don’t,” Suzanne said. “I think the wolf is scary. I don’t like when he pretends to be the grandmother so he can eat Little Red Riding Hood. Can we read something else?”
“Okay,” Megan said, changing her selection without complaint. “How about ‘Cinderella’? That’s my favorite anyway.”
“Mine, too. I like when the prince and Cinderella dance at the ball. They get married and live happily ever after.”
“It sounds like you don’t need me to read the story,” Roz teased.
“Yes, we do. And we want to see the pictures. I like Cinderella’s pretty dress. I wish I had a dress like that,” Suzanne said, apparently no longer worried about the big bad wolf. Roz was going to have to purge their bookshelves. Not only to rid them of the nightmare-inducing fairy tales, but to make space for more empowering books. She didn’t want her girls to grow up believing they needed a prince to rescue them. She wanted them to know they were responsible for solving their own problems and attaining their own happily-ever-after.
After she finished the story and tucked the girls in for the night, she checked on Nathaniel, who was reading in bed. She gave him a tight hug and kissed his cheek. “Fifteen more minutes, then lights-out. And no reading under the covers with the flashlight.”
He grinned. “I can’t. I fell asleep with it on last night and the batteries died.”
She laughed. “I’ll get you some more.”
She closed his door and told herself to go downstairs to her room, but her feet seemed to have a mind of their own. Telling herself she was just being thoughtful, she knocked on Paul’s door. When he didn’t answer, she turned the knob and stepped inside. The moonlight filtered through the open curtains, showing him in silhouette. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him sleep. Unable to stop herself, she whispered the words she would never say to him if he were awake. “Oh, Paul, I wish we could have made it work. How I wish we could start over.”
Then she slipped out the door, grateful that she’d finally given voice to the words that were hidden in her heart and even more grateful that he hadn’t heard them.
Chapter Fourteen
I wish we could start over. Those words echoed in Paul’s mind for the next three days. He wasn’t sure if Roz had actually said them or if he’d imagined it. He’d had a fever after all, and Roz had starred in most of his dreams while he’d been sick. In every dream they’d been happy. Smiling. In love. Every morning when he awoke, his arms felt empty and his heart ached with loneliness that grew with each passing day. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake it.
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