Beside a Dreamswept Sea (21 page)

After a lengthy monologue, Bryce circled back to his opening statement. “I guess I’m having more than a little trouble dealing with knowing Meriam’s content without us.”

Tony lowered his gaze from the cathedral ceiling to Bryce. He looked like he always did: crisp white shirt, perfectly creased slacks, a navy and gray silk tie. Provided things worked out here—and realizing that, right now, that outcome looked rather grim—Cally had her wifely work cut out for her, getting Bryce to chill out a little. For Tony, the time had come to cut in.
Doesn’t it ease your mind to know Meriam’s content?

“Of course it does.” Bryce forked a hand through his hair, paced an angry path between the louvered closet doors and the bed. “It’s just that—”

You do want her at peace, right? I mean, you couldn’t be content knowing she was miserable and unsettled, could you?

“No, I couldn’t.” Bryce dropped his hand to his side. “But I—I—” Frustration twisted his expression. “Hell, Tony, I don’t know what I want. I’m mad. So damn mad. I know it’s wrong, but there it is.”

Would you mind if I materialize? I’m getting dizzy, trying to keep pace here.

Near the foot of the bed, Bryce halted. “Materialize?”

So you can see me and so, when you’re talking to me, I won’t have to run you down to see your face. That really does get tiresome, Bryce. When talking or listening to someone, a person always looks at their eyes. It’s a lifelong habit that doesn’t break just because you die. It just gets more challenging because the person can’t see you, you know?

“Um, go ahead, then.”

Bryce sounded anything but enthused, and his knuckles went white, gripping the head of the cane, yet Tony sensed the man was sympathetic to his special challenges.

He watched Bryce’s expression carefully. Some thought they were ready to see a ghost, but when they actually did, they passed out cold. At least if Bryce fell, he’d fall on the bed and spare his knee any more trauma. Hattie would appreciate that, and Tony had heard quite enough of her ear-blistering for the time being. She’d railed for hours about his telling Suzie the “new mom” bit of business.

Bryce’s throat went thick. Tony stood before him, looking as solid as Bryce himself, wearing an old Army uniform with shiny brass buttons—Class A’s, Bryce suspected—and a yellow carnation pinned to his lapel. “So that’s why Suzie was so knocked out by Cally’s carnation.”

Tony smiled, clearly pleased about something. What, Bryce had no idea, but the man had a friendly face and, next to Miss Hattie’s, the kindliest eyes Bryce ever had seen.

“We need to resolve these feelings of yours about Meriam, Bryce. They’re keeping you chained to her, and her chained to a life that doesn’t belong to her anymore.” Tony ruffled a hand through his hair. Brown, but touched by the light, it streaked gold. “You both need to move on.”

“I’m trying.” Bryce was, wasn’t he? He was here.

“I know you are.” Tony hiked a hip and sat on the edge of the desk.

“What’s it like for her? Being on the other side?”

“She’s at peace. And she’s content. Isn’t that enough to know?”

“I guess not.” Passing the armoire, Bryce picked up the little terra-cotta berry box, ran his fingers over its rough surface. “I want her content, but I’m angry because she is. And I feel guilty because I’m angry. It’s not logical or rational, Tony. It’s garbage, and I don’t know where to dump it.”

“I think you’re relieved. And I think you feel guilty not because of anger but because you’re falling in love with Cally.”

“I’m not.” Bryce looked up from the vine cut into the top of the box to Tony. “We’re friends. That’s all. And I’m trying to help Cally realize she’s a wonderful, desirable woman—which she is—remember?”

Tony crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, I haven’t forgotten.” He stood up and slid a hand into his pocket. “Sit down.”

“What?”

“Sit down.” Tony nodded to the edge of the bed.

Bryce sat, then looked up at Tony.

“Now forgive me if I’m a little out of step with the times. I would remind you that I’ve been dead fifty-one years. But I think as men we have a responsibility to remember something vital in our relationships with women.”

“We have tons of responsibilities, I agree. You can cut out the sarcasm and cut to the chase.”

“No problem, Counselor. What you’re saying is normal and fine, except for one thing.” Tony stopped directly in front of Bryce, then looked down at him. “Friends don’t kiss friends like you kissed Cally Tate.”

“Typically, no, they don’t. But that wasn’t about passion.”

“Looked pretty passionate to me.”

“It wasn’t,” Bryce insisted. “It was about loneliness.”

“Ah, well, that explains it, then. Raging hormones and good old-fashioned lust had nothing to do with it. The very basic human need to touch and be touched had nothing to do with it, either. In fact, what you’re telling me is that, when you get down to brass tacks, Cally had nothing to do with it. Is that right, Counselor? Is that what you’re saying here? That it wouldn’t have mattered who the woman was, so long as she was in your arms?”

Bryce lied through his teeth. “Right.”

“Animal crackers.” Tony backed up to the desk, perched on the edge, then stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles. “You were supposed to be showing her she’s desirable. I left her in your capable hands.”

“So they’re not so capable. That shouldn’t surprise you. You know about Meriam, Suzie, Wiggins. Hell, Tony, what did you expect?”

“I expected honesty.” Tony snorted, tapped a pen from the desk against his palm. “Sometimes you people really irk me. You’ve got everything I want right at your fingertips and you lie to yourselves and turn away from it. Well, I know that’s comfortable for you. I know it eases your fears of putting your heart on the line again. But it does present us with a little dilemma.”

Bryce stood up. “What dilemma?”

Tony rubbed at his neck. “Seascape is a healing house. But you know that already, don’t you? You’ve felt the effects of it, and Suzie’s told you and Cally all about it, hasn’t she? You just haven’t wanted to listen because you’d rather play ostrich and tell Cally how she needs to be looking in the mirror. I strongly suggest, Counselor, that you stop pointing fingers long enough to take a look at yourself.”

“I’m trying to help her. Have you forgotten that?”

“You’re hiding behind a desire to help her, using it like a shield—and we both know it.” Tony gritted his teeth, curled his hands into fists, then forced his tone civil. “I crave—not want, damn it, but crave—everything you’ve got, and you’re not only refusing to appreciate it, you’re refusing to even see that it’s there.”

“You mentioned a dilemma.” Bryce clenched his jaw to keep his temper under control. “Will you be getting to it anywhere in our future?”

“Very well.” Tony twisted his lips, relaxed his fingers. “It’s my job to make sure you have every opportunity to heal in this house, Counselor. That’s why I’m here. If you lack the courage to do your part, well, that makes me doing my part more complicated. I don’t like complications. And, while I’m empathetic with your situation and the troubles that have kept you straddling the fence and seeking comfort here, I’m going to have to insist you leap to one side or the other. In other words, from now on, every time you lie to yourself I’m going to be in your face telling you that you’re lying to yourself. Now, whether or not you elect to be honest with me doesn’t really matter. You’re damn well going to be honest with you.”

Bryce glared at him. “You’re nothing like T.J. said you were.”

“It’s nearly Thanksgiving.” Tony shrugged. “I’m a reasonable man, but I get a little impatient with men who run scared, especially at Thanksgiving.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s when I proposed to Hattie and she accepted.”

“But before you could marry her, you died.”

“Yes.” Tony clenched his jaw. “I died.”

Letting all this soak in, Bryce put the box back atop the armoire. “First, I’m sorry for your loss, but to be frank here, I’ve got my own baggage weighing me down and I damn sure don’t need any more. Secondly, I don’t need or want you in my face. I am honest with myself and I’m attracted to Cally because what happened to her is tragic, and she’s far too special to have been dealt the dirt she’s been shoveled by that bastard Tate. And thirdly, I
am
lonely. Sometimes I’m so damn lonely I think if it were lethal, I’d be dead. But I’m lonely for Meriam. My wife, who is content without me. And I’m angry that she’s content—even though I know I should feel better for knowing it. I’m angry because I’m so damn miserable without her.”

Tony dipped his chin. “You were always without her.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I know that’s hard for you to accept. I tried to help her, but I failed.”

“I wasn’t without her.”

“You were.” Tony frowned, and compassion clouded his eyes. “She wasn’t there for you, Bryce. She was never there for you or for the kids. Take a look at how things really were between you. Forget the fantasies. Look at your lives the way they really were.”

“I know how things really were. Don’t you tell me how things really were between us. She loved me, damn it!” Bryce slammed a fist down on the desk. The impact sent shock waves racing up to his elbow. His hand stung. He gripped the desk ledge, and his temper. “She loved me.”

“Meriam couldn’t love you.” Tony stared at Bryce, softened his voice. “I’m sorry, but that’s the truth. What happened to her didn’t leave her the luxury of loving anyone. Think about it and you’ll know I’m right. Think about yourself. About the kids. And think about Cally.”

“What about Cally? Hell, the last thing she wants is to love again.”

“True. In her head. But what about in her heart? You know all about Mary Beth Ladner. Cally’s a lot like Hattie, Counselor. She’s a giver. A nurturer. And she’s got nobody to nurture.”

Tony mumbled under his breath, then let out a sigh that would power windmills and talked to the ceiling. “Here we’ve got a guy who needs nurturing, with three beautiful kids who
sorely
need nurturing, and a woman who is a nurturer with not a soul in her life to nurture. Now, life hasn’t been extremely kind to any of these folks, but the man and woman clearly are attracted and care about each other, though they hide from it behind words like ‘loneliness’ and ‘friends.’ They kiss. They talk. They go on outings with the kids, and they laugh. Really laugh. Yet both this man and woman are so busy protecting their tattered pride and swearing that they won’t let themselves love again that they’re failing to see—”

“None of us need more heartache.” Bryce interrupted, his voice stone-cold. “Not Cally, not my kids, and not me.”

“Ah, true. But you do have what each of you needs. There are a lot of kinds of love, Bryce. We both know it. So maybe between you and Cally romantic love isn’t it. Maybe it’s something deeper. That’s a distinct possibility, wouldn’t you say? Maybe between you there’s a chance for a steady and sure love based on trust and caring. A special love that will help to heal the wounds inside you and Cally, and inside your kids. And maybe, if either you or Cally has the strength and courage to venture beyond your pride to find it, you’ll recognize that kind of love for the treasure it is.” Tony stared deeply into Bryce’s eyes. “Do you have that much strength and courage, Counselor?”

His expression bleak, Bryce admitted the truth. “I don’t know.”