“Mom,” Phil interrupted, curving his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s let Lina sleep. Come on.” He steered her toward the door.
“Mom? Mom, are you awake? Mom?”
Lina awoke with a start, looking up at Logan, who was standing beside the bed. “Logan?”
“Are you awake?”
If it weren’t for her headache and the fact that he looked so serious she may have laughed at the absurdity of his question. “Yes. What’s wrong?” She held out her hand.
He jumped back before she touched him. “Grandma said you’re contagious.”
“No. I promise you I’m not contagious.” She patted the mattress. “Come and sit. I don’t want to have to look up that far.”
He sat down beside her but kept his hands firmly in his lap. “Do you think it would be weird if I gave Tiffany a Christmas gift? Brian and Will said I’ll look lame if I give her something since we aren’t, like, official or anything.”
“I don’t think that’s true. If you want to give her something, give her something. You really like this girl?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Nothing too expensive, but something small would be fine.”
“Like a necklace?”
“A necklace sounds nice. You could check with your sisters. I’m sure they would help you pick something out.”
“I already picked it out. I just wanted to make sure it was okay to give her something.”
“Do you have a picture of it?”
He stood up and removed his phone from his pocket. “If I order it by five o’clock today, they’ll deliver it to her on Christmas Eve. For ten extra dollars they’ll gift wrap it.”
Lina looked at the image of a silver wire heart pendant hanging from a simple chain. “Oh, I like it.”
“I thought it was better than the lockets or the ones with the fake diamonds.”
“It’s beautiful. She’s obviously very special.”
“Do you want to see her picture?”
“I do.” Moments later she was looking at a picture of the girl who seemed to be capturing her son’s heart. There was no question she was attractive with her heart-shaped face and large green eyes, but she wasn’t as innocent looking as Lina had expected. The pose in the photo, from her head tilt to the slight pucker to her lips, was obviously perfected in a mirror.
“What’s the matter?”
Lina replaced her frown with a smile. “Nothing. I’m just having a hard time focusing. She’s very pretty.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, smiling down at his phone.
“I don’t like her,” Lina told Phil when he came into their bedroom in the early evening. “She’s too old for him and she looks”—she paused as she tried to think of the right word—“shallow. Like one of those girls who giggle just to get attention.”
He raised an eyebrow. “All this from a picture?”
“Yes.” She knew she sounded shallow herself, but she didn’t care.
“Imagine how you’re going to feel when you come home one day to find her groping him in the pool, tattoos covering one of her arms. Oh wait.” He smirked. “I think I’m getting confused. That was me meeting Matt for the first time.”
“It’s not funny.”
“Oh, I know. Believe me.”
“You like Matt.”
“I tolerate him,” Phil corrected. “Because you make me.”
“That’s not true. You like him. You just won’t let yourself admit it because you’re too pig-headed.”
“How come you always resort to name calling when you’re losing an argument?” He approached the bed.
“I resort to name calling because you’re frustrating to talk to sometimes. And I’m not losing this argument. That’s your overinflated ego talking, because it can’t handle losing.”
He pressed his knee onto the mattress as he leaned over her, placing his hands on the pillow on either side of her head. “There you go again.”
“Are you trying to intimidate me?” she asked, looking up into his eyes, which were inches from hers.
“Why? Am I?”
“No.” She laid her palms flat on his chest. “I still feel sick.”
“Are you trying to tell me you’re unwilling to fulfill your wifely duties?”
“Phillip,” his mother scolded, surprising them both with her sudden presence. “She’s sick and in all likelihood contagious.”
“Mom, do you mind?” he asked, continuing to stare down at Lina. “We’re not teenagers.”
“You’re certainly acting like one.” She paused beside the bed, balancing a tray. “I made Lina some broth.”
Phil pushed off the bed, coming to his feet. “Happy?” he asked his mother.
“I will be after you wash your hands.” She nodded toward the bathroom.
Lina stifled a smile as she watched him follow his mother’s orders. It was as if they were sixteen and seventeen again and living in his parents’ house. His parents had allowed them to share a room—Lina had been too afraid to be alone—but they’d insisted on having unfettered access, regularly entering their room without warning to deter them from engaging in what his Catholic parents referred to as immoral behavior.
“How are you feeling, dear?”
“Better. Just a little tired.”
“Do you think you can keep down some broth?”
“I think so.”
Phil emerged from the bathroom. “All clean.” He walked over to the bed, leaned down, and dropped a hard kiss on Lina’s mouth before winking at his stunned mother and leaving the room.
“Why does he want to be sick?” Mrs. Hunter asked.
“I don’t have the flu,” Lina said. “It was something I ate or drank. Several people from the party are feeling the same way I am.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, Lina decided, figuring at least a few others had to have hangovers.
“That’s awful. You’d think a hotel of that caliber would be more careful.”
“You can just set that on the dresser,” Lina said. “I’m not quite ready for it yet.”
Mrs. Hunter complied, and then instead of leaving, she lingered. “Oh, would you look at that.” She picked up the photo on the nightstand of Lina and Phil as teenagers. It was taken at the beach. Lina was sitting on his lap and he had his arms wrapped loosely around her with his chin resting on her shoulder. “The two of you haven’t changed a bit.”
“I think we’ve changed a little.”
“Not really.” She stared at the photograph for several more seconds before replacing it. “I’m so happy you were able to find it in your heart to forgive him. He was lost without you. A big part of who he is is tied into you. He thinks of himself as your protector. It’s been that way since he saved you and Shiloh. Anything other than the two of you together felt so wrong.”
“I know.”
“Are you happy? I mean, I know you’re not feeling well right now, but otherwise, are you happy?” She sat down on the edge of the bed, her eyes full of concern. “You seem happy, the two of you.”
“We are. It’s challenging sometimes dealing with—with Liam’s mother, but I think it’s just going to take some time.”
“Jeanie told me about the awful things she did to you, sending you those pictures and…” She seemed to struggle to find the right words. “I’ve been praying for her because there’s clearly something dark inside a person who would go to such lengths to hurt you like that.”
“There is,” Lina agreed.
“You know if you ever need anything, Bruce and I are always here for you. We love you and Phil and the kids so much,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
“I know.” Lina squeezed her hand. “We love you, too. And please don’t worry about us. We’re fine. We’re going to be fine.”
***
Later that evening, while Phil was watching a movie in the family room with his parents, Logan, and Megan he received a text from Kim. It was a pictur
e of Liam smiling as he sat in front of a cake with one burning candle, a birthday hat propped atop his head. Phil felt a tug in his heart as he looked at the joy in Liam’s eyes. Memories of Logan’s, Megan’s, and Katie’s first birthdays flooded Phil’s mind. He remembered them all, their attempts to blow out the candle, Logan’s beaming smile when Lina brought in a dozen helium-filled balloons, Megan’s delight at all the attention, and Katie ignoring the guests in favor of her enormous pile of gifts. It hit him that he’d never have those memories of Liam.
“Oh my God!” Megan cried from beside him. “I got straight As again! My chem grade just came in.”
Phil darkened the display, setting the phone back on the coffee table as he turned to Megan, joining his parents in their words of praise. “Excellent, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pressed his lips against her forehead. “I’m proud of you.”
Chapter Twenty-six
When Phil entered the kitchen the following morning, his mother was at the stove making pancakes and bacon, his father was at the table reading the newspaper, Katie was hunched over a bowl of cereal, staring down at her cell phone, and Megan was at the kitchen island eating a yogurt.
He glanced down at his cell phone to confirm the time, but instead his attention was caught by the date. It was December twenty-third, Liam’s birthday. A year ago to the hour he’d received a text from Kim telling him her water broke and she was on her way to the hospital. She’d asked him to come. He hadn’t. Instead he’d waited until the following morning.
It was Christmas Eve. Phil arrived at the hospital early, hoping to catch a glimpse of the baby in the nursery without having to see Kim. He stood before a wall of windows, his eyes narrowed as he scanned the dozen or so newborns.
“Which baby are you looking for?” A young nurse with a friendly smile came to stand beside him.
“Ryan. Kim Ryan,” he answered.
“He’s with his mom. Room 211. I can show you.”
He hesitated, not wanting to see Kim, but his desire to meet his son was powerful. “Thanks.”
Kim was alone in her room, feeding the baby from a bottle. She looked up when Phil paused in the doorway. “Hi.” She gave him a tired smile. “Do you want to meet your son?”
He took a deep breath. “I do.” He thought of Lina as he approached the bed. It should have been Lina, not Kim, holding his baby. “May I?”
“Of course.” She shifted slightly, so he could pick up the baby.
Phil was overcome with the same sense of wonder that had hit him when he’d met Megan, Katie, and Logan for the first time. The little person he was holding in his arms was his child. He felt a surge of protectiveness at the knowledge.
“He was over ten pounds,” Kim said. “I had to have a C-section.”
“Big boy,” he said, continuing to stare down at his son.
“He takes after his father. I was thinking of naming him Phillip Jr.”
“No.” He shook his head. “Logan has my middle name.” He wouldn’t do that to Logan or to Lina.
“Do you have any ideas? I want him to have your last name. He’ll carry it his whole life.”
Phil thought of his favorite uncle. “Liam. Liam Michael Hunter.”
“Have a seat and I’ll bring you some coffee,” his mother said, breaking into his thoughts.
“Why is everyone up so early?” He wrapped his arm around Megan, who’d crossed the kitchen to give him a hug, dropping a kiss on top of her head.
“I wanted to make sure I got to the kitchen before Lina,” his mother answered. “I know how she loves to wait on everyone, and she’s in no condition to do so.”
“No worries on that front. She woke me up and told me to go to the bakery down the street and pick up breakfast.” He joined his father and Katie at the table.
“That isn’t necessary. I’ve got it under control. She’s still feeling bad then?”
“She’s on the mend,” he answered. “Fifty percent better than yesterday.” He frowned at Katie, who was wearing earbuds. “You know those aren’t allowed at the table.” It had been months since he’d had to remind her. “Take them out.”
She tugged them from her ears. “It was too noisy in here.”
“Families are noisy. You can handle it for a few days.”
“Dad?” Megan called out. “I was one of only ten As in chem from my professor, and he has over a hundred students.”
“Maybe you should be a chemist,” Bruce Hunter said.
“No. I’m going to be a lawyer like Dad.”
“You could be a patent attorney,” Phil said. “Get your undergrad in chemistry or engineering.”
“I didn’t really like chemistry. It was just easy for me. I think I’m going to get my degree in political science. That’s what yours is in, right?” she asked Phil.
“Yes.”
“Are you making pancakes?” Logan asked, looking only half awake as he came into the kitchen.
“Yes,” Mrs. Hunter answered as she placed a cup of coffee before Phil. “They’ll be ready in a few minutes. What would you like to drink?”
“I can get it,” Logan answered, stifling a yawn. “Is Mom still sick?”
“She’s better.” Phil was staring down at his phone, looking at the picture of Liam Kim had sent him the night before.
“How come you’re allowed to have a cell phone at the table when you get on me for having one?” Katie asked.
“Excuse me?” Phil lifted his gaze from his phone, staring across the table at her.
“It’s a double standard. You should be acting like you want us to act.”
“He’s the parent,” Megan said. “He makes the rules. When you’re a parent, you—”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Katie said, frowning at Megan.
“I’m just giving my opinion.”
“No one asked for your opinion.”
“No one asked for your opinion about Dad looking at his phone at the table, but you gave it.”
“If I stand with my cereal can I put my earbuds back in?” Katie asked Phil.
“No. For my Christmas gift, I’d like you to be nice to your sister regardless of how you’re actually feeling inside.”
“I’ve already bought your gift. I’m not giving you two.”
***
Lina put on her running clothes, determined to go down to the basement and sweat the lingering hangover out of her body. She was lacing her shoes when Phil joined her in the master suite.
“What are our plans today?” he asked.
“My plans are to go grocery shopping, bake, and finish wrapping the gifts in the basement. I’m overwhelmed just thinking about everything I have to do.”
“Do you need anything from me?”
“You said you’d make a run to the liquor store. We need wine for Christmas dinner and whatever else you think.”
“Is that it?”
“I think so.”
“I was going to go out to buy Liam a birthday and Christmas gift and then swing by to drop them off. I thought I’d ask my parents if they wanted to join me. Maybe take him out for an hour or so if Kim’s agreeable.”
“Oh.” His announcement surprised her. She’d put Liam out of her mind, assuming they wouldn’t see him again until after Christmas.
“They haven’t met him. I’d like them to. It’s his birthday.”
“His birthday,” she repeated. She’d completely forgotten about his birthday. “Of course. Of course they should. I already bought him gifts. You don’t have to get him more. They’re wrapped and in the closet in his nursey.”
“You bought them?”
“Yes.” She stopped beside him, pressing her hand into his stomach as she kissed his cheek. “Of course I bought them. Don’t I always buy the kids their gifts?”
He snagged her hand before she could walk away. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I wanted to.”
Thirty minutes later Lina dropped down on Phil’s weight-lifting bench, feeling almost faint. She removed her earbuds and was just bringing a water bottle to her lips when she heard the sound of someone coming down the basement steps.
“Oh, Lina,” Susan said when she came into view. “I couldn’t believe it when Phil told me you were exercising.”
“I just felt like I needed to cleanse the toxins from my body,” she explained before taking another sip of water.
“But you barely ate yesterday.”
“I just did a light workout,” she assured her. “I can already tell I’m better.”
“Do you need me to bring you some Gatorade? You look a little shaky.”
“I promise you, I’m fine.”
Susan nodded. “Honey, are you sure you’re okay with us going to meet Liam? Of course I want to meet him, but with Christmas only two days away, I don’t want to do anything that will bring you pain.”
“I told Phil I was okay with it.”
“I know you did, but I wanted to check with you myself. We could wait until the spring.”
“No.” Lina shook her head. “He’s already a year old. You should meet him. He’s your grandson.”
When Lina returned home from the grocery store, she was surprised to find Susan in the kitchen. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going with Phil.”
“He’s at the liquor store with Bruce. Phil couldn’t get ahold of Kim. We drove by and her car was there, but there was no sign of them. I suppose it will have to wait until spring after all.”
***
The sound of Frank Sinatra’s rendition of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” grew louder as Phil descended the stairs. Logan was kneeling on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, wearing pajamas covered in elves and assembling the tracks for their electric train.
“I think I’m going to get it myself this year,” Logan told Phil. For the past three years he’d attempted to put the tracks together himself, but he could never get the connections quite right and he’d have to ask for help.
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