by Patty Blount
With Al’s words echoing in her exhausted brain, she ran blindly and saw a church across the street. What if Al was right? What if all these signs really were signs Mom forgave her and she’d—and she’d just made the second biggest mistake of her life?
She crossed the street and climbed the steps, hesitated at the door. She hadn’t been in a church of any sort for well over a decade and felt like the biggest hypocrite alive walking in now, but she had to know.
She pulled on the door, but it was locked tight. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “Figures.” She rattled the door one more time and sank to the cold granite steps in defeat, and prepared to do something she’d never done, even when things were at their darkest.
She prayed.
“Okay, God. Okay. I’m here, right outside your door and I don’t know what to do, where to go, how to fix everything I broke. If you and Mom are sending me signs, send me one now and I promise I won’t ignore it.”
She waited. And waited some more. Her hands were numb and she was so damn tired, she could barely keep her head up. She forced her head up and blinked a few times. Suddenly, she saw a man stride by. He wore a hat like Luke’s, a jacket like Luke’s, even a scarf looped around his neck like Luke’s.
“Lucas!” She leaped to her feet, chased the man in the hat. “Lucas!” It took her half a block to catch up to him. When she grabbed his arm to stop him.
“Can I help you?” Annoyed, a stranger glared pointedly on her hand on his arm.
“Sorry. I thought you were someone else.” It wasn’t him. Disappointment cut through her like a rusty knife. She turned away. This was pointless.
“Hope you find him.”
She’d managed two steps before he called her. “Hey! You dropped something.” The strange man picked something up from the ground.
In his hand, he held her MetroCard from her first visit to Luke’s place. She stared at it, that tiny bit of hope catching into a flame. This was it—this was the sign she’d prayed for. The certainty—the faith—filled her with warmth. She grabbed the card and pressed a noisy kiss to the stranger’s cheek. She took off at a run. “Thank you!” She called back over her shoulder.
Elena ran all the way to the PATH entrance, waited impatiently for the train. By the time she arrived at Luke’s door, it was late. She pressed the buzzer, waited some more.
There was no answer.
The flame of hope that had sustained her during her dash from Manhattan to Hoboken sputtered, died. Slowly, she walked back to the PATH station and waited for the next train back to the city.
So much for signs.
Lucas tapped his glass on the bar. The bartender promptly poured him a few more fingers of—what the hell had he been drinking? Right. Whiskey. His phone buzzed in his pocket for the hundredth time that day. He glanced at the screen.
Elena.
I’m sorry. Please pick up. Please.
Did she think he was he a moron? An idiot? Did she really expect him to just pick up the phone, and what—talk about the weather like nothing was wrong, like she hadn’t shredded his heart to ribbons? He wished he could crush the damn phone to powder and deliberately loosened his hold before he did. He gulped his drink, felt his head spin and figured it was time to cool it. Not like it was helping him forget a damn thing anyway. He thought about calling Al, but didn’t want to ruin his friend’s evening. He took out his wallet, handed his credit card to the bartender, settled his tab. He’d called in sick that day, but tomorrow, he would put Elena Larsen firmly out of his mind and get back to work.
He stood up, tugged a black hat over his head, zipped his jacket and stared at the warm leather gloves Elena had bought him. He stuffed them back in his pocket. He’d rather freeze than use them and would give them away as soon as he found someone who needed them. Back outside, where the temperature had dipped below freezing, his breath visible as he walked home, he accepted that it wasn’t possible to drink Elena off his mind. She’d permanently etched herself on him—heart and soul. He wished he’d seen the sign for it because Christ, he’d have run the opposite way if he’d known how much it would hurt.
A horn blared and he hustled out of a car’s path, slipped on ice and fell on his bottom. Cursing until he lost his breath, he managed to drag himself back to his feet, annoyed because apparently, even his ass wasn’t safe from the pain of losing Elena. He limped home, halted when he caught a glimpse of a red hat heading into the PATH station. He stood and watched for a moment and finally turned away.
It couldn’t be Elena.
No use hoping it was.
He turned up the walk to his door, unlocked it, and in the swath of light carved into the dark when he opened it, he saw something on the icy path. He retraced his steps, slowly bent his aching body and picked up a key.
He’d never seen the key before but somehow, he knew it was Elena’s and the thought gave him comfort.
Chapter Thirteen
“Elena! Where the hell have you been?” Kara demanded.
Sniffling, Elena stood in the doorway, her hands numb. “Kara,” she began, but couldn’t hold it together long enough to get the words out. “I lost my key.”
Kara wrapped her arms around Elena. “Oh, honey, you’re frozen to the bone. Come on, Laney. Come with me.” She led Elena into the bathroom, began filling the tub with steaming hot water and bubble bath. “Where are your gloves?” She unzipped Elena’s jacket, tugged it off.
“I gave them away.”
“Gave them—why would you do that?”
Elena’s face crumbled. “I saw a homeless person and—and it’s what Lucas would have done.”
Kara pulled the hat off Elena’s head. “Get in the tub, stay in until you’re not cold,” she ordered.
Elena stripped down, stepped into the tub and sank under the hot suds. A few minutes later, Kara knocked and stepped in with a bowl of hot soup. Elena took it with a tired smile.
“Kara, if you still want me, I’d like to stay. I’m sorry I took off.”
“Of course I want you! Laney, for what it’s worth, I think you’re wrong. I think Mom forgave you. I think Mom forgave you the minute it happened. I haven’t even met my child yet but I can promise you this. Nothing this baby does or ever will do could ever make me hate him or her. She was our mom, Laney. Of course she forgave you. Of course.”
Elena said nothing for a long moment. Al had said the same thing. She hoped Kara was right. She hoped they both were right. She really needed that.
“Kara, you’re gonna be a great mom.”
Kara beamed, squeezed Elena’s shoulder.
“Oh, Kara! I love him. And I think I made a terrible mistake. I don’t think I can fix it.”
Kara took the bowl, put it on the toilet tank. “The only mistake you made is not trusting the people who love you.” She smiled. “And as one of those people, I’m telling you that we’ve already forgiven you for that.”
Elena sank deeper into the bubbles. “He won’t talk to me. I’ve called and sent texts, but—”
“Laney, give him some time.”
“I went back to his place today, but he never answered the door.”
“He probably wasn’t home.”
Elena shrugged. Maybe he wasn’t. “I also went to the memorial. I saw Mom’s name.”
Kara’s lip trembled. “Oh, Laney.”
“I even prayed. I haven’t done that since I was fourteen.”
Kara sat on the side of the tub. “Did it help?”
“I didn’t think so at first. And then, I saw a guy I thought was Lucas, so I chased him, but it wasn’t. As I walked away, the guy said I dropped something. It was my MetroCard, Kara. He held it out to me and I thought, it was a sign.”
“So you thought it meant you were supposed to go see him?”
Elena nodded. “I think I guessed wrong. He wasn’t even home. I suck at seeing signs.”
Kara shook her head. “Oh, stop being so dramatic.”
“Kara, seriously. I need to fix this.”
“Okay.” Kara grabbed a towel, unfolded it. “Dry off and get dressed. Let’s brainstorm.”
Elena and Kara spent a few hours coming up with ways to find Lucas, get him to listen to Elena’s explanation.
She texted him. He didn’t reply. She left voice mails. He didn’t call back. She spent hour after hour at SFG, but he never showed. She rode the PATH train alone to Hoboken three nights in a row. He never answered his door.
“Kara,” she said on Thursday morning over bowls of oatmeal. “Do you really want to go to the Holiday thing tomorrow?”
“Laney, trust me. He wouldn’t miss that. Not after all the hours we all put in.”
“It feels wrong. I don’t want to use a solemn occasion like that for me, you know?”
Kara nibbled a fingernail. “I see your point. Okay. We’ll go and if you see him, you just smile. Even if he looks angry, smile. Don’t make a scene or do anything that detracts from the solemnity.”
Elena nodded. “Agreed.”
“Okay, what’s your schedule like today? I’ve got an OB appointment this morning.”
“I’ve got a progress review call at nine and after that, I’m free.” Elena took the empty bowls to the sink, squirted some soap into them and ran the water.
“Great.” Kara heaved herself off the stool. “Elena. I’m going to ask my doctor to induce. I just can’t stand being pregnant anymore. I want to see my baby. I want to get started on our new lives.”
Elena pulled in a breath, nodded. “Okay. Let’s get dressed. We’ll see what your doctor says.”
Kara nodded, eyes wide and scared. Elena watched her shuffle across the apartment and into her bedroom. When the door shut behind her, Elena let out the sob she’d been trying to swallow.
“Please. Please, Mom. I need another sign. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know.”
On the Saturday before Christmas, Elena stood in Kara’s bathroom, threaded a chain through Luke’s snowflake and looped it around her neck. In the mirror, her face was pale despite her makeup and her eyes reflected the churning in her gut. She stared at the ornament Lucas had given her when she was fourteen years old, standing on the ramp that led to her mother’s—and his mother’s—tomb. She wasn’t entirely sure why she’d kept it all these years. It was a three-inch-high bauble in plastic and crystals and rhinestones and—and—oh, it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen—right up until the day she’d seen him smile and she was suddenly certain that’s why she’d kept it. It, like the boy who’d pressed it into her hands, was light itself—the only spot of it she’d been able to see in a world that had turned ugly and hateful overnight.
Her lip trembled and she battled to hold on to the slim strand of hope the ornament represented.
She wore no other jewelry with her simple black dress and hoped the snowflake would speak—loudly—for her. She hadn’t seen Lucas all week.
I love you, he’d said.
And instead of responding in kind, what had she done? She’d fled. She’d been a coward.
She left the bathroom, joined her sister in the living room. “Okay. I’m ready.”
Kara looked up from her always-present baby name book. “Oh, Laney. You look amazing.”
Elena’s hand fluttered to the ornament hanging over her heart. “I hope this works, Kara. I don’t know what else to do to get him to talk to me.”
Kara closed her book. “Laney, he’s hurt.” At Elena’s wince, she quickly added, “Don’t give up. He’ll talk to you when he’s ready.”
Elena nodded, managed a tiny smile. “I hope so. I really do. He’s it for me, Kara. I never saw him coming, but he’s the one.” Tears stung her eyes so she carefully rubbed beneath them and moved to grab their coats. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”
Kara maneuvered herself off the sofa. “Definitely. I haven’t been out of the apartment for anything other than OB appointments in weeks.” She stood in the light of the Christmas tree by the window and Elena could only stare. She wore a simple pair of black pants with a sparkly top in a deep Christmas green but didn’t just glow—she shimmered with the kind of inner light Elena was now convinced only pregnancy could create.
They made their way to the elevator and into a cab, Kara holding Elena’s hand. Elena stared out the window at twinkling lights strung in apartment windows and smiled to herself. Funny how all she could see now was light. The cab slowed as it approached the hotel and three cars ahead, Elena saw Lucas step to the sidewalk. He wore a tux in classic black with a straight tie, something pinned to his lapel—she couldn’t tell what. Her stomach dropped when a woman in a gown stepped out of the cab after him, followed by an older man.
His family, she realized, a wave of relief flooding over her.
Someone stopped to greet him and his teeth flashed for a split second, but even from inside her cab, she could tell the smile never reached his eyes. Not for the first time, her heart clenched at the realization that she was the reason why.
Her own cab pulled to the curb. She got out, turned back to help her sister. When she looked up, Lucas was gone.
“I’m okay, Laney. Go after him.”
“Are you sure?”
“Definitely. Go.”
Elena hurried into the hotel lobby as fast as her strappy heels would allow. The lobby was a sea of people in red, green, silver, gold and an awful lot of black. She wasn’t one for making wishes, but damn it, she wished he’d look her way. Suddenly, the crowd parted and there he was, not ten feet in front of her.
“Lucas!”
He froze.
She held her breath.
He turned.
She smiled.
She poured everything she had—everything she was—into that smile.
She moved. Walked to him, held out her arms.
His jaw tightened and he turned.
She stood, alone, arms spread.
Empty.
The crowd closed in and Elena made her way out of the main path, trying to hold in her tears.
“Elena! Elena!” Kara waved from across the grand entrance. Elena hurried to her side, helped her check their coats and assisted her into the elevator that took them to the ballroom, where a throng of people were looking for their table assignments. She guided Kara into a chair at table four, where an elderly couple beamed at her baby bump and engaged her in conversation.
She sat next to Kara, her eyes scanning the banquet room, transformed to look like a winter wonderland. White lights twinkled from every column and wall in the huge room. From the ceiling, decorations dangled. Snowflakes. She shut her eyes with a wince. People greeted each other with quiet hopes for a healthy new year since happy seemed far out of reach. Elena smiled and nodded at the greetings aimed at her, but she wasn’t listening. She was searching for Lucas.
She finally spotted him at the bar and hurried to join him. “Luke.”
He whipped around, his dark eyes snapping with suppressed rage. They glared holes through her for a moment and then narrowed at the ornament suspended around her neck. His jaw tightened when she touched his arm. On his lapel, a picture of a pretty dark-haired woman was pinned.
His mother.
“Please. Just give me a minute.”
He took her elbow, gripped it hard, moved her to the corner of the bar. “I don’t want to hear a word you have to say.”
“Even if that word is love?”
He snorted out a bitter laugh and shot her an icy glare that made her shiver. “I already know you love me, Elena. You run from everybody you love.”
The barb stung. “I know I hurt you, but please listen. You were right—”
He waved his hand, an impatient slash through the air. “You have something that belongs to me.”
“You gave it to me.” Her hand fluttered to the snowflake around her neck, covering it protectively.
“I gave it to a little girl who needed it. The woman in front of me doesn’t, so I want it back.”
She flinched at the pain she he
ard in his voice and with shaky hands, reached up to unfasten the chain. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, holding it out.
He snatched the snowflake from her hand, his mouth open to deliver one more parting shot when Kara shouted her name. Elena whirled, found Kara standing near their table, clutching her belly. “Kara?”
“Laney! My water. It just broke.”
Panic paralyzed her and she could only stare, mouth gaping, as people closest to them jumped into action. A cell phone was suddenly thrust into Kara’s hand so she could phone her doctor. The venue’s maitr’d organized a cab. Luke held out his hand but Elena couldn’t figure out why.
“Coat check, Elena. Give me the coat check ticket.”
Coats. Yes, they would need their coats. She fumbled with her little black evening bag, managed to find the ticket. Lucas snatched it and strode away. She finally remembered how to move and joined Kara.
“Are you having contractions?”
“Only one so far. We have plenty of time.” But Kara’s eyes were huge with fear.
“Luke’s getting our coats. You’ll be fine, Kara. You’ll both be—Kara? Kara!”
Kara’s face scrunched up and a gasp fell from her lips when the second contraction hit. Lucas jogged over, coats in his arms. “Kara,” he said. “Come on, honey, do the breathing they taught you.”
Right, the breathing! Elena kicked herself. She tugged on her coat, held Kara’s out for her. “Two contractions in five minutes?”
Kara nodded, panting.
“We should probably hurry.” Elena took Kara’s arm, started for the main doors to the banquet room.
“Oh, God.” Kara clutched Elena’s hand.
“I got you.” Lucas scooped Kara up at the knees, strode out of the room, into the elevator. Elena had to hustle to keep up. He strode down the steps and across the main entrance, where a cab was already waiting and tucked Kara carefully into the backseat. Elena climbed in after her and turned to thank Luke, but he firmly shut the door between them, his mouth a tight, bitter line.
As the taxi drove off with Elena’s hand pressed to the glass, Kara whimpered. “I’m so sorry, Laney. I’m so sorry.”
