Authors: Theresa Ragan
CHAPTER 18
“Mom, it’s not that big of a deal,” Sally was saying when Max and Dan entered the house.
“Finally,” Sally blurted the moment she saw her husband. “Mom knows Hank is here and she’s not happy about it. She won’t even come outside to say hello.”
Max frowned. “That’s crazy, Mom. What’s the problem?”
“You had no business asking him here without talking to me first.”
“You would have said, no,” Dan said.
“That’s right,” Mom said. “I would have said no because my relationship with Hank has nothing to do with any of you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Max said. “Your relationship with Hank has everything to do with us. If you like this guy and you’re hanging out with him then we should have the chance to get to know him.”
“He’s only a friend.”
Sally took the bottle from the baby’s mouth and moved the baby to her shoulder so she could burp him. She handed the empty bottle to Max since he was closest. The bottle was clear plastic with yellow stars. A sign from Dad, Max realized. “If you’re sleeping with the guy, Mom, he’s more than just a friend.”
“I won’t talk about this.”
Max put a hand on her shoulder before she could get away. “Dad would have wanted you to be happy.”
She broke away and headed for the stairs.
“I love you, Mom. We all do. That’s why we invited Hank.”
She paused for a moment, but she didn’t spare him another glance before starting off again.
“If you’re not outside in fifteen minutes, Mom, we’re all packing up and leaving.” Max watched her disappear up the stairs. The weekend was turning out to be more than he bargained for. It was easy to see that Molly was enjoying her time at the lake, but that was because she was with Amanda. Overall she still hadn’t given him the time of day. He brushed his fingers through his hair. Women. Between his mother, Kari, and Molly, he was batting zero.
“Do you think she’ll join us,” Sally asked as the three of them headed back outside.
“She’s awfully pig-headed,” Dan answered. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens.”
Frustrated, Max said, “What was Mom planning on doing? Keep Hank hidden from us for the rest of her life? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“I don’t think Mom ever intended to meet anyone she cared about,” Sally said. “I think her plan was to go on loving Dad for the rest of her life. But then Hank came along and her feelings for him must have started a whirlwind of emotions inside of her, like kicking up dust in a windstorm. She’s seriously conflicted.”
“Well now I know where Nicole gets it from,” Max said. “Nicole would rather spend her life wandering like a lost stray rather than face her loss and move on. I don’t mean to sound callous. Nobody can tell me they miss Dad more than I do. But life goes on, and Dad and Jake wouldn’t want any one of us to waste our lives mourning them. It’s not healthy.”
“Dad!” he heard Molly call, stopping him short and making him dizzy. A wave of emotion swept over him. He didn’t know whether to weep from joy at being called ‘Dad’ or if he should panic at the tone of her voice.
Molly came through the door of the cabin like a crazed animal; hair flying, eyes popping. She tugged on his hand and pointed to the dock. “Lindsay’s hurt.”
From where he stood, Max could see Fred tying the boat to the dock while Jill waved her arms above her head for help. Cole sat in the boat holding Lindsay in his arms.
Kari and everyone else rushed that way.
Max took off running. By the time he got to the docks, Cole was carrying Lindsay in his arms, walking at a brisk pace toward the house. Lindsay’s arms hung limp and her sides, her face pale except for a bruise on the right side of her forehead.
“What happened?”
“I need the keys to your car,” Cole demanded. “I need to get her to the hospital. Pronto.”
Max ran ahead, back to the house. “I’ll meet you at the car,” he shouted over his shoulder.
After Jill assured Kari she would keep an eye on Molly and her friend, Kari grabbed her bathing suit cover and followed Cole around the side of the house to the garage. She jumped into the passenger side of Max’s SUV just as Max slid behind the wheel. Cole was in the back seat holding Lindsay, telling her everything would be okay.
#
It was two in the morning when a taxi dropped Kari and Max off at the cabin. Cole insisted on staying overnight at the hospital with Lindsay. According to the doctor, Lindsay needed to be observed overnight. Cole was going to take Lindsay home in the morning and Kari, Max, Molly and Amanda would hitch a ride with one of his sisters.
Kari’s teeth chattered while Max fiddled with a key to the front door of the cabin. After they stepped inside, he turned to face her and placed his hands on her arms so he could rub the chill out of her bones.
She closed her eyes.
“Better?”
She nodded. “That feels good.”
“Max, is that you?” He turned toward the stairs. “Mom. What are you doing up so late?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
Max frowned. “Where’s Hank?”
“He’s sleeping in the guest room downstairs. How’s Lindsay doing?”
“She has a concussion and she sprained her ankle. She’ll be on crutches for a few weeks. When the water skier knocked into her, she knocked her head pretty good, so they’re going to keep her overnight for observation. Cole’s with her.”
“I’m going to head off to bed,” Kari told them both.
Max looked at her and wished she wouldn’t go, but knew it was probably for the best. “Let me know if I can get you anything...an extra blanket...anything at all.”
“I’ll be fine. Goodnight Mrs. Dutton.”
“Goodnight,” his mother said.
Max couldn’t help but think his mother purposely interrupted his conversation with Kari. It irked him, and yet everything seemed to bother him today.
His mom waited until Kari disappeared. “I worry about you.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not now, Mom. I’m tired. It’s been a long day.”
“I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”
The determined look in Mom’s eyes caused him to feel a sudden onset of bone-numbing fatigue. It was the look that told him she wasn’t going away until she got whatever it was off of her chest. “Can’t this wait until morning?”
She ushered him into the family room and pointed to an overstuffed sofa. “Have a seat son and just listen.”
He went to the couch, but he didn’t sit down. Instead, he crossed his arms. He looked closely at the woman standing before him. He’d never seen Mom look so tired. Even her clothes looked tired. She was a perfectionist and a control freak. She liked everything in its place; her hair, her makeup, her attire. At the moment though, she wore a mismatched sweat suit and the ugliest orange fuzzy slippers he’d ever seen. It didn’t matter that it was two in the morning, his mom never wore mismatched anything. Her hair stuck out on one side and she wasn’t wearing an ounce of makeup. Something was seriously wrong. She finally had his attention. “What is it, Mom? Spit it out, you’re making me nervous. Is it about one of the girls, because if it is, you need to tell me before you give me an ulcer.”
“The girls are fine.”
“Molly. Is it Molly?”
“She’s fine, too. She and her friend played gin rummy with Hank and me after you left. She’s a sweet girl.”
“I know. She’s a great kid. What do I have to do to get you to talk?”
“I’m afraid you might not love me once I tell you what I have to say.”
He plunked down on the edge of the couch. His legs were mush. He was done begging. He stared at her and waited. His heart beat a little faster. What the hell was wrong with her?
She put a slender hand to her heart and then did the one thing he least expected her to do. She smiled, a big enough smile to make the lines on her face clearly visible, making her appear real. “I did something beyond horrible,” she said.
He lifted a brow...waited. For the life of him, he couldn’t imagine what she was getting at.
“I didn’t think much of it at the time,” she said so low he had to lean forward so he could hear her better. “With losing your father and all, I’m not sure I was thinking straight back then.”
“What did you do?”
She picked up a beach bag that also served as her purse, reached inside, and pulled out two envelopes and a note-size piece of paper. She handed him all three items.
He read the note first, which was basically a number scrawled across the top, and then underneath,
Max Dutton. Call me, Kari Murphy.
He opened the envelope on top. The envelope was aged, yellowed around the edges. The letter inside was from Kari, telling him in detail what their night together had meant to her. Her words were light and airy as she told him all about her family, about herself, about her goals in life and how she’d been in love with him since the first time she saw him on his bike when he delivered papers to her house every morning. A lump in his throat kept him from swallowing as he folded the letter and slid it into its original envelope. Funny, he thought, how he could see that house in his mind, the small blue house, the little girl staring out the window every morning when he tossed the paper to her porch.
He opened the second letter. This one was dated a few months after the first. This letter was also from Kari. Same handwriting. But the tone wasn’t nearly as light and airy as the first. Instead, it was crisp and to the point. She was pregnant, she wrote in the first sentence. But she didn’t expect anything from him. The intent of the letter, she wrote, was not meant to ask him for anything, but only to let him know that in seven months time his child would be born, despite her parents and teachers and counselors suggestion to have an abortion.
He sucked in a deep breath of stale, bitter air.
This letter ended with contact information and asked him to call or write if he was interested in being there when his child was born. Or, if he preferred, she was willing to update him on a regular basis by sending pictures. The sadness, the anxiety, the worry she must have felt at the time came through in the letter, and yet her words sounded bravely determined, too.
He folded the letter where the creases were deepest and tucked it safely inside the envelope. Then he exhaled and forced himself to look at his mother.
A tear slid down her sunken cheek and over an age spot or two he’d never noticed before.
His mother was right.
For the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure how he felt about her. It was almost too much to bear. His own mother was responsible for his not knowing about Molly. “How could you do such a thing?”
She wiped her eyes, shook her head.
“Didn’t you ever wonder about your granddaughter?”
“I hired an investigator a few years ago. I had her watched. I knew she was well taken care of. I have pictures.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
He stood.
She cowered, which only made him angrier. “I need you to go,” Max told her. “Now.”
“I never meant to hurt you.”
He shook his head, but didn’t say a word.
“Please forgive me, Max. I can’t bear having you angry with me.”
He left the room. “Maybe you should have thought about that nearly fourteen years ago.”
CHAPTER 19
Before Lindsay’s feet touched the ground the next morning, Cole rushed around the front of the car to where she sat in the passenger seat. Cole took Lindsay’s house keys, walked up the walkway to open the front door, then jogged back to the car and scooped Lindsay into his arms.
“Cole,” she said as he carried her through the front door and set her on the couch. “You really don’t need to carry me around all day. Just watching you run around is exhausting.”
“The doctor said you need to rest your ankle for another few days. And I have practice on Monday, which means I won’t be able to get here until six at night to help you out. How are you going to take care of four little kids all day?”
She started laughing.
He looked confused. “What?”
“You need to slow down. Relax. You sound like my poor Aunt Harriet who worries about everything. I’m sure Jenny will be able to help me out tomorrow, and even if she can’t, I’ll be fine.” She stood, intent on getting water from the kitchen without Cole’s assistance, but as she hobbled past the coffee table she stumbled.
Cole tripped over his feet trying to get to her.
After he caught her in his arms, she laughed and said, “Gotcha.”
“That’s not funny.”
Smiling, she reached for his face and brushed the tips of her fingers over his hard jaw. Reaching farther still, she wrapped her hand behind his neck so she could pull him close enough to draw his lips to hers.
He kissed like he talked; slow, clear, concise. Not sloppy or mushy or too fast. Just perfectly nice. Kissing Cole reminded her of being a child and running through fields of mustard flowers...simply exhilarating. She liked Cole Fletcher, and at the moment, she couldn’t think of one reason why they shouldn’t be together.
He pulled away, concern etched across his brow.
“We have the house to ourselves,” she said.
“What about your injuries?”
“You were on the practice field all last week. You probably have a few bruises of your own.”
“Maybe I should carry you up those stairs, take off your clothes, and we can compare.”
“I think that’s a fine idea.”
He tilted his head.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m just wondering if this is some sort of trick.”
“No tricks. Do you have any condoms?”
“In my bag in the car.”
“Always prepared,” she said. “Like a boy scout. I like that.”
“Then you’ll be glad to know I got the Paul Bunyan Woodsman Award when I was twelve.”
“Impressive. Now are you going to start rubbing sticks together or are we going upstairs to my bedroom?”
“Don’t you move...I’ll be right back.”
She watched him go and she knew he’d be quick. He was one of the leading NFL quarterbacks after all. Her first pro athlete. Taller than the average bear. Lean and muscular. Too handsome for his own good. A great kisser. She had absolutely nothing to lose.