Mending Michael (26 page)

MICK

She fucking cried.

She
fucking
cried.

If she was going to fucking cry, I wouldn't have renounced our friendship with just one look.

Why'd she bring him here if she was going to cry at the thought of losing me?

I know she knew what I was doing. I knew the minute she saw me shut her out of my life. That's how fucking much we are meant to be together. She could read my fucking soul through my eyes.

Her quivering lip and pervading tears outlining her sad tiny face is an image that is now burned in my mind like a hot iron. I never meant to make her cry. My intention was to let her go. A favor to her. But my anger overrode my intentions. Instead of sending her my silent sacrifice of love, to let her go, I'd sent her a message of hate. I thought she'd be happy I'd set her free.

But she cried.

And I smiled.

Because I realized she still cared.

But that Ben guy ruined the moment by bringing her forgotten purse to her. She wiped her eyes and turned from me, before I could take back what I'd silently spoken.

***

It's a bad idea to take off on my bike, because I am not thinking straight. But I can't go back inside.
He's
there. Ben. Tina had made a point of stating his name when she was ogling him. But I'm going crazy out here. And then I see him. Getting into a brand-new black Honda. All that anger that I've held in all these years is ready to find its way back out. And as I study the baseball-capped prick, I'm afraid I'm going to take it out on him.

I'm not that person anymore. I can't just swing my fists to make me feel better. Not unless they truly deserve it. This guy doesn't deserve it... not that I know of anyway.

I watch him drive away, and I breathe. A concentrated breath. To get back in control. I'm an adult for chrissake. I'm trying to save a kid, get a job, make a life. I gotta do better than this.

Without thinking, I storm back into Donny's, step behind the bar, and grab Holly by the wrist. But not hard. "We need to talk."

Her eyes are still wet when she shoots a glance at a nodding Donny, but she says nothing when I lower my hand to hers and lead her outside.

"Why are you crying?" I ask abruptly, her hand still firm in mine.

She tries to pull away, but I don't loosen my grip. "If that's the only reason you called me out here, then you're wasting your time."

Pulling her closer, again I ask, "Why, Holly? Tell me."

"Why?" Her lip turns up into a snarl. "So you can gloat?"

My hand drops from hers. "Gloat? What the hell do I have to gloat about?"

Backing away a step, she makes a throaty hmph sound. "I saw that satisfied smirk on your face in there. I don't know what you're doing here, but I'm tired of it." She turns to walk away, but spins back around, waving a finger at my face. "In what world do you think it's okay to play with my feelings like this? Five minutes ago, you looked at me like I was dead to you. Now you think it's okay to ask me why I'm crying?" She pushes at my chest with her palm. "Go to hell, Michael Ross."

Before she can turn away again, in one quick movement, I press her hand to my chest, brace my other hand on her hip, tug her forward so we're chest to chest, our hands between us, and crash my mouth into hers. For about a tenth of a second, she doesn't respond, but then I feel her lips part and her tongue meets mine in a desperate attempt to fix whatever it is we'd broken.

When the taste of nachos on my tongue registers in my brain, I stop the kiss and grab her face in both my hands. "Why are you with him?" I say quickly, desperately.

She bites the inside of her lip and tilts her head a little to the right. "We were doing homework."

I drop my hands from her face and clench them at my sides. "Holiday. No games. Why are you seeing him?"

Every second that passes as she stares at me, not answering, feels like a dagger plunging in and out of my chest. I don't want her seeing anyone else. I have no right to demand that, but dammit, I can't get the image of her with that guy out of my head—their annoying chuckles while they laughed over something stupid, the tops of their heads touching when they were reading something from the same book, their hands meeting as they went for the same nacho chip.

"Holiday," I say again, vehemently.

"I lied."

"You lied? What does that mean exactly?"

"It means I'm not seeing him. I'm not seeing anyone. I only said that because I saw you with Lara and then that other girl."

"Lara? When? What other girl?" My fists are unclenched, but now I'm confused.

Her head dips in embarrassment.

"Holly?"

"I was in the courtroom. That day." She looks at my eyes, searching them for a reaction? Searching for something?

"You came to court? Why?"

"Moral support. I just...I was worried, and...I wanted to be there."

And all at once, all my anger just...vanishes.

"Holly." I wrap my arms around her, again I pull her close, and tuck her head in the crook of my neck. Resting my chin on the top of her head, I breathe. I breathe out the words..."Thank you." Though I really want to say, "I love you," the time still isn't right.

She remains silent beneath me, but I feel her take a deep breath.

"Holly. What did you mean you saw me with Lara and... some other girl?"

Shifting her body so she can look up at my face, she says, "You were hugging her. In court. I mean, I know you were crying, but... I just assumed."

"No. She was there on her own accord. I hadn't asked her to be there. But...well, you heard everything. She was comforting me, but it didn't mean what you think it meant. She's...she was there...I needed...Why didn't you? Why didn't you tell me you were there?"

"I meant to. After." She shakes her head and bites her lip. "Then I saw her...and you."

"Right. Well she doesn't mean anything to me. Nothing more than a friend anyway. And what about the other girl? Who?" I ask, truly clueless.

Holly shrugs and looks defeated. "Some brunette, but...I don't know, you were...I saw you with her in the bar. Sitting...at the back table. One night a while...I don't know, it's not important. I probably just..."

"My aunt. You saw me with my aunt."

"Your aunt? You never mentioned you had an aunt."

"If you were paying attention to me up at the river, you'd remember that I had."

I see her looking up to her right, searching her memory. Until, "The one that came home from college and took you out?"

"The one and the same." I brush a few strands of hair that'd stuck to Holly's cheek when she was leaning against me. "She flew in from California to help. With Charity and Kenna."

"Oh," she says with wide eyes. "That's good?"

"It's very good."

HOLLY

"So..." I have no idea what to say now. Do I ask about us? Where we stand? Or leave it alone?

I wish he would say something more. He wants to. I can see it in the way his mouth opens then shuts. But he looks down instead.

"Mick?" Saying his name is a start. It may prompt him to say something.

But when he looks up, he just stares into my eyes. There's a change. He's allowing me in again, because I can now see back into his soul.

"Mick," I breathe.

"I'm sorry, Holly. I'm sorry I'm so fucked up." His words rush out. "I have no right asking you not to see anyone else. It's not my business, because I made it that way. By telling you my life is too screwed up for a girlfriend now. That hasn't changed. There's still so much in my life unresolved. It's just, I can't stop thinking about you. I can't get you outta my mind, and when I saw you with him," he throws his hand in the direction of the bar, "I thought I'd lose it right there. I hated how it made me feel. And, well, I know it's not fair to you, but oh, Holly. I don't even know what I'm asking anymore." He brings both his hands down to mine and squeezes. His shoulders sag. "I guess I'm saying, I can't have you, but I don't want anyone else to have you either."

I raise my eyebrows and drop my jaw. He's right. It isn't fair of him to ask me that. But, though it shocks me to hear him say it, truth is, I don't want anyone else in my life.

"I know, Holly. I'm not really asking you to wait for me. I don't expect it. It's just...I wish you would...wait for me, that is." His eyes probe mine. Questioning. Pleading. Begging?

"Mick."

He cringes.

"Michael."

His eyes drift close, waiting.

"There's no one else."

His eyes open.

"No one I want to be with. So. For now," and acceding is not something I do lightly, "I'll wait."

He looks at me like I just told him he'd won the lottery. Never before have I seen a smile so wide on Michael Ross. Smiles don't come easily for him, yet here he is, grinning cheek to beautiful cheek, because I told him I'd wait for him.

Does that make me pathetic? Because I'd wait for a man?

At the moment...I can't think of a reason why I wouldn't wait. There's something special about Michael. A gentle soul residing inside a serious man. It's not like he's asking me to wait while he pursues other women. He's asking me to wait for him while he puts together his niece's life, his sister's life,
his
life. When I think about it that way, how can I
not
wait?

"Oh, Holly," he whispers, smiling. "I wanna take you out on dates and spend every night just talking to you, kissing you. My God, to just hold you...all night long." He lifts his hand to run alongside my neck, his fingers tangling my hair. "If you can wait...until this...this nightmare that has become my life is settled, I promise... promise... we'll start off right." His thumb comes up to caress the outline of my jaw. "I just can't give that to you right now. I'm sorry."

I cover his hand with mine and remove it from my neck, but we keep our hands together. "It's okay. We had this conversation before. I get it. I just...I don't know what happened after that. The night at the pizza place. I guess after seeing you with your ex, I assumed... I don't know and I got...defensive. I'm...I'm sorry."

He brings one of my hands to his mouth and kisses it. "We'll start over. I promise. Friends?"

"Friends."

"For now," he adds.

"For now."

MICK

The next two weeks, Holly and I get along well. Working together runs smoothly, and though her sarcastic jabs are ever present, the mean intent that usually accompanies them is non-existent. Neither one of us brings up our impending relationship or our current one, and there are times it seems like our whole conversation was just a dream. But then sometimes, I'll notice a warmth in her eyes when she looks at me, and I'm comforted with the fact that it was real. I can breathe easily. Holly is the strength that pulls me forward. If I make it through the bleakness, the nightmare, I'll be able to reach the light and bask in happiness for a change. I'll be able to make the time for Holly.

But today, I go to court with Liz and Charity. Hopefully coming home with Kenna in our arms.

Less folks attend court this time around than last, so we are called up to plead our case about thirty minutes in. There's a more confident air about Carmine as he speaks to the judge, but I gather that due to the fact that Liz is a more suitable guardian than I am, Carmine feels more sure about winning the case.

This time, the judge's questions are shot at Liz, but her whip-smart answers and upstanding citizenship surprise and impress His Honor. When she hands him her proof of residence, he asks if Charity and I intend to live with her.

"No, your Honor. My niece is residing with her friend while she continues her recovery, and my nephew moved back into his studio apartment last week. It will be only Kenna and myself living in her house until my nephew closes on it. Then we will be moving into a two-family house that he bought for his sister and I to live."

The judge eyes me and then my sister. "Is this true?"

"Yes, your Honor," we say in unison. I had suggested to Liz that she move into my new house when I close on it next month. This way she and Kenna can be near Charity. Liz will pay me rent, and that will go towards my mortgage. Since Donny only charges me minimally, living back in my studio won't be a financial burden.

"Where will the girl's mother live?" The judge asks.

"She will be living in the second floor apartment alone. Kenna and I will be living downstairs."

"We are requesting, your Honor," Carmine adds, "that the mother have unlimited supervised visits with the daughter, and that the uncle have no restrictions whatsoever, since there is no evidence to state that he shouldn't. My client intends to use her nephew as caretaker when she is at work. We'd also like to make the motion that as soon as Miss Charity Ross is fully recovered, we can request custodial rights once again."

The judge allows Carmine's motion, and Liz is granted sole physical custody of Kenna, and Liz and Charity both will share joint custody until we bring the case back to court. The four of us sigh in relief and then Charity cries. Taking her hand, I walk her to the back of the room and hold her. She sobs into my neck for a long while before Carmine's hand rests on my shoulder. "Let's go get your little girl."

***

We're all a little nervous following Madeline up the front steps of Patty Reynolds’ house, but Charity has us beat. In my arms, she is shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. I use all my strength to keep her moving forward so she doesn't crumble under my arm while we ascend the steps. When the door opens, Patty's smile is big and wide, but it doesn't mask her emotions. She'd been crying. I'd never given much thought to what
she
would feel when we'd finally come for Kenna, but evidently losing a child after having her for a short while isn't without its difficulties. Fostering is not for the weak, and I suddenly have a new respect for the woman who'd cared for my sweet niece this past month and a half.

As I reach for Patty's hand in greeting, I notice Kenna's little Rapunzel backpack leaning against her pink duffel. Floppy, her stuffed bunny, sits on top. In my chest, the constant ache, my companion for the last month and a half, turns sharp. Stabbing. My God, it's been too long.

"Come in," Patty tells us. "She's finishing her cupcake with my girls."

Her face is covered in violet icing when she spots us in the doorway.

"Mommy!" She jumps off her knees and runs for T.

The pain in my chest screams at the same time tears threaten to flood my eyes. My hand is soon covering my mouth to keep from crying out loud.

T does nothing to stop her tears. She hugs the hell out of Kenna and isn't concerned that we're all watching. But after about sixty seconds of Kenna's head pressed into the crook of her mother's neck, my little niece looks up and sees me.

"Uncle Michael!" she exclaims, as happy to see me as she is her mother.

"Hey, baby," I say so softly, my tears strangling my throat.

Any other words I'd meant to say are silenced as well. Like Charity, I take Kenna in my arms and hug her like I've never hugged her before. It's my niece who breaks the embrace after several seconds; if I had my way, I'd spend a lot more time with her in my arms.

"Are you and Mommy better now?" Kenna asks, looking at me with the widest of eyes...and a tentative smile. She's unsure. Afraid of what's next. I can't help it, but I break down with her in my arms, as unable to control my emotions as my sister.

"Kenna, baby, we're much better now," I choke out. Barely. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." My words are a whisper, but I need to say them out loud. I'll never forgive myself for failing her. I'll never forgive myself for losing her in the first place. My sister may have misplaced her here and there, but I'm the one that couldn't hang on to her and protect her the way I should have. I have to hand Kenna back to Charity; the pain in my chest is unbearable, and my stomach is working on tossing its contents out from my mouth.

Once Charity has hold of Kenna, I hold my hand to my mouth and look at Patty, who's already pointing me in the direction of the bathroom.

I lift the seat and hurl.

When there is nothing left to come out, I flush, wash, lower the seat and cover, and drop to the floor. My back against the tub, my knees against my chest. My chest clutched in my hands.

Sixteen years have gone by...

And nothing has changed at all...

I'm still responsible for fucking up my family.