How Hallie made it through dinner without falling apart, she didn’t know. But as the minutes passed and Nate’s request continued to echo in her head, a deadly calm settled over her.
It wasn’t until Nate launched their nightly routine—giving Ahn her bath and a snack, reading stories—that Hallie finally sat down with the bomb Nate had dropped.
Was she heartbroken that he didn’t plan to stick around if the readoption happened?
Yes.
Would she survive?
Yes.
She could understand why Nate was confused about what they should or shouldn’t do where Ahn was concerned. And she could understand why he wasn’t sure about what he did or didn’t want. Their lives had been turned upside down from the moment that impaired driver crossed the median. This situation had been tearing them apart little by little, day after day. None of it had been their fault. And, more importantly, very little of it had been their choosing.
But it would be her fault if Hallie didn’t tell Nate exactly how she felt. No what-ifs. No maybes. No mis-communications. Nothing but the truth.
She watched the monitor until Nate turned off Ahn’s light. When he walked into the bedroom, Hallie patted the vacant place on the bed beside her.
He had to notice, of course, that she was still fully dressed, not waiting for him in bed as usual. And she knew his glance toward the foot of the bed meant he didn’t miss the basket filled with his clothes that she’d neatly folded and had waiting for him.
Nate walked over and sat beside her. His resigned expression said he’d seen this coming.
“I could never hate you,” Hallie told him. “I love you. I love you enough to let you go, the same way I love Ahn enough to let her go. But I deserve better. I deserve to be loved by a man who has no doubt that my face is the first thing he wants to see when he wakes up and the last thing he wants to see before he goes to sleep. The fact that you feel the need to leave tells me you’re not sure you feel that way about me. Unless that changes, Nate, the only thing I’ll ever have to offer you is the friendship I hope we’ll still have when all of this is over.”
Nate reached out and caressed the side of her face. He kissed her, then left, taking the basket with him.
The sound of the door gently closing was Hallie’s signal to fall apart.
They both sat on the floor with Ahn, who showed off stacking her building blocks higher and higher. She let out a delighted squeal when they tumbled to the floor, her favorite part of the whole game.
Snap—Ben helping Ahn pick up the blocks.
Snap—Jen clapping her hands in approval.
Snap—Hallie looking on and smiling.
Nate lowered the camera when Hallie looked directly at him. They exchanged a poignant smile.
She’d been right to ask him to leave her bed. She’d also been right about deserving better. He’d give anything if he could be that man she deserved with no doubts whatsoever. But he couldn’t.
Not now.
Maybe never.
She approached him. “Can I talk to you outside a minute?”
Nate nodded and followed her outside on the deck. Although they hadn’t said much to each other since Tuesday night, there hadn’t been any animosity. They’d simply gone through their daily routines as usual, giving each other time to get used to the distance.
She leaned against the railing. The October night had a chill to it. Nate took off the shirt he was wearing over his T-shirt and put it around her shoulders.
She thanked him, then said, “I made the decision a long time ago that when we found new parents for Ahn, I would sign over my half of the house to you. I think we both already know we’ve found them.”
“I agree,” Nate said. “The three of them will make a great family. But I don’t want this house. I want us to sell it. And I want you to use the proceeds to buy the brownstone you talked about so Ahn can have her own bedroom. Will you do that for me?”
She looked over at him. “If that’s what you really want, then yes, I will buy the brownstone. But what about you? What are your plans, now?”
“I’m going to California.”
“Your documentary?”
Nate nodded.
“Funny you should mention selling the house,” she said. “Jen mentioned earlier that this was exactly the type of home they’ve been trying to find. They’re still living in a condo they’ve been renting.”
“That would be perfect for Ahn,” Nate said, already following Hallie’s reason for mentioning it. “She wouldn’t be uprooted.”
“Jen has also invited us to go to New York next week so we can meet her family. Ben’s parents are coming, too.”
She didn’t say it specifically but he could hear the doubt in her tone, the question whether he’d join them.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Nate said.
Hallie handed his shirt over, then went inside. Nate remained where he was for a long time.
He would go to New York for Ahn and for Hallie. But after that, he was done.
When he left New York, it would not be to come back to Wedge Pond. Ahn had new parents now. There wasn’t any reason to drag out the inevitable, and they didn’t need him to help sort out the details of the adoption and house sale. Hallie was perfectly capable of making all of the arrangements.
As for him, he could load everything he owned into the Ranger Rover—his clothes, his cameras, all of it—and start driving west. Anything he needed to sign they could courier to him.
Including the adoption papers.
Especially
the adoption papers.
Nate couldn’t be here for that.
On days like today Hallie focused on the things she
did
have to be thankful for in spite of Nate’s absence. As always, Ahn was at the center of everything that made her grateful and made her happy.
Hallie walked to the refrigerator, but paused as she took in the paper that decorated the door. She smiled at the latest picture Ahn had drawn in preschool.
Ahn had printed her name in big letters over the stick figure of a little girl with a huge smile on her face. And over a stick figure dog she’d printed “Buster” with the
S
turned backward. According to Jen, the teacher claimed Ahn was well ahead of the other children in her class.
Hallie smiled at that thought, too.
She opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottled water before she returned to the kitchen table, where she had dozens of photographs—most of them photos that Nate had taken—separated into sections. Now that she had the pictures sorted, she was ready to put them into an album she was making for Ahn.
Hallie took her memory-keeping role seriously.
The first picture she picked up tugged at Hallie’s heartstrings. Nate had taken it the day the two of them met Janet and David at the airport when they’d first brought Ahn home.
Hallie slid the photo into place and reached for another. Ahn’s Christening. Janet was holding Ahn, David had his arm around Janet’s shoulder and both of them were looking down at Ahn with so much love.
Hallie continued inserting pictures. Ahn at the pizza place with tomato sauce all over her face. Roberta holding Ahn, both of them looking up at the Fourth of July fireworks. Ahn feeding the ducks. Ahn sneaking Buster pasta from her high chair. Ahn in her sandbox. Ahn in the bathtub, wearing a hat made of bubbles. Ahn and Nate asleep on the sofa, Ahn curled up in the crook of his arm.
Hallie reached for the next stack.
She smiled when she picked up the picture of Ahn feeding the pigeons in Central Park when they’d all gone to New York to meet Jen’s and Ben’s families for the first time. The next one was of Ahn sitting between Jen’s extremely gracious and wonderful parents. Senator Harris holding Ahn, Ben’s mother smiling brightly for the camera. There was a group shot with everyone—Ahn’s new parents, her grandparents, her cousins and all of her aunts and uncles, including Nate and Hallie.
In the next stack was a picture of Ahn, sitting on Katharine’s lap. Hallie had taken it shortly after the readoption. With Nate in California, she’d promised she’d visit Katharine often. Nate called to check on his mother regularly, but Hallie knew he appreciated her going.
The next picture was of Ahn standing in the middle of her new bedroom shortly after Hallie bought the brownstone in Back Bay. Ahn in Hallie’s back courtyard with Buster, who ended up living with Hallie due to Ben’s allergies. Ahn and Buster curled up together, asleep on the sofa in Hallie’s den.
Next were holiday pictures—the first Thanksgiving and Christmas after the accident. Hallie had thought so many times how much more difficult last year’s holidays would have been without Jen and Ben. The only thing that could have made the season better would have been if Nate had flown in to celebrate with them.
She laughed at the first picture in the stack. Ahn had a huge turkey leg on her chair tray—Buster looking up expectantly at it. Roberta and The Colonel holding up their wineglasses in a toast. Jen and Ben kissing at the table.
There was a picture of Ahn sitting in front of the Christmas tree, frantically tearing open presents, Hallie, Ben and Jen looking at her adoringly. Ahn opening Nate’s present from California—a new edition of her favorite Toby the elephant books.
The last holiday picture was Hallie’s favorite—Ahn asleep on Hallie’s lap, her sweet head resting against Hallie’s shoulder. The adults had all been sitting around the table talking after dinner and Ahn had suddenly walked over to Hallie and held up her arms.
“Hold me, Aunt Hallie.” Seconds later, she was fast asleep. Ahn reaching out to her was the acceptance Hallie had been waiting for. It was proof that the special bond Hallie had patiently nurtured would never be broken.
Hallie kissed her fingers, then placed them on the picture. “Love you, sweet girl.”
Hallie reached for the last stack.
They were the most recent pictures taken two months ago in February. Ahn was in her high chair wearing a party hat, staring at her birthday cake with three brightly lit candles on the tray in front of her. The next one The Colonel had taken of her, Jen, Ben and Roberta—also wearing party hats and clapping as Ahn blew out her candles.
But Hallie kept staring at the image of Ahn holding the stuffed duck Nate had sent her, thinking how Nate was sadly living out that early accusation he’d tossed at her of sending birthday and Christmas presents and making a call now and then. At least he did call, and Jen always told Hallie when he did.
But he didn’t call Hallie. And Hallie didn’t call him. What was the point?
He’d made his decision when he left for California.
Hallie had just closed the photo album when Buster raised his head from his usual position lying beside her chair. Seconds later, she and Buster were both on their feet, ready to welcome Ahn for her overnight visit.
After the accident, Hallie didn’t think she would ever be happy again. There were still moments when she missed Janet and David so much she would almost double over from the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Then she would remember all of the things that she did have to be thankful for. Ahn, always. Jen and Ben, who had become her family. She still loved her career. Even she and Roberta were so much closer than Hallie ever imagined they could be.
Her life was satisfying. Not perfect, but satisfying.
And she refused to think about who would make it perfect.
He’d picked up the phone a dozen times to call Hallie. But he’d always stopped short of making the connection.
She’d moved on during the past six months. Nate knew that because Ben had become his informant, feeding him updates on what she was doing.
So Nate knew she was doing great without him. That was why it wasn’t fair to barge into her life when he still couldn’t put a finger on what he had come out here to clear up. Something kept holding him back. And until Nate knew what that something was, he would continue to check on Hallie and Ahn as he’d promised—from a distance and in the background.
Nate walked inside the beach house and picked up the envelope on the kitchen table that held the latest pictures of Ahn Jen had sent him. He’d looked at them a dozen times and every time he did he couldn’t believe how much she’d grown.
He missed her like crazy and hated that he’d missed all these recent developments of hers. But he did believe that giving Ahn the gift of Ben and Jen as parents was the best thing he and Hallie could have done for her.
Nate carefully put the pictures back in the envelope and picked up the invitation that had been included with them. As much as he’d like to be at Ahn’s first dance recital, he couldn’t. But the fact that Jen always invited him let Nate know he was always welcome with or without an invitation. For that he was grateful.
Nate grabbed his keys off the table and headed for the door. He had meetings this afternoon at a studio to discuss a new project he and Dirk were proposing—a behind-the-scenes look into the political process in Washington.
Dirk had several congressmen on board to discuss their tenure in the Capital. And Nate had already talked to Senator Harris, who had also agreed to be interviewed for the documentary. The senator’s involvement had led Ben to say he was looking forward to Nate working on the east coast so they could hang out.
Nate hadn’t commented on that. But privately he thought it highly unlikely he’d be spending time with the Harrises.
He wouldn’t do that to Hallie.
He wouldn’t do that to himself.