Sweet Tomorrows

by Debbie Macomber

  Jo Marie studied me closely and I noticed how her shoulders sagged slightly. “You’re not saying anything.” She narrowed her eyes. “Mark?”

  “We’ll talk about this later.” I would need more strength than I currently had.

  She bolted out of her chair, walked to the farthest corner of the room, and ran her hand over her eyes. “If you’re telling me you’re going back to the Middle East, I’m walking out of this room and I’m not coming back.”

  “Jo Marie.”

  “I mean it.”

  I knew this woman could be stubborn, and if she said she’d walk then she would do it without a backward glance.

  “You better tell me what you’ve done.” Then, before I could answer, she made another demand. “Did you re-up?” Not waiting for me to answer, she bent in half and pressed her hands against her knees. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  I tried to sit up but was too weak to manage it on my own. Instead, I pointed to the toilet. “In there.”

  She dragged in several deep breaths and waited before she assured me, “I’m okay.”

  She straightened, and while I didn’t want to argue with her, she didn’t look so good. Jo Marie had gone pale and still, as if she was in danger of passing out.

  “Sit down,” I ordered, pointing toward the chair she’d recently vacated.

  Thankfully, she didn’t argue and took the seat next to my bed. A minute or two passed before she spoke. “Just tell me what you’ve done.”

  “I didn’t re-up,” I assured her.

  “Thank God for that.”

  Seeing her reaction, I dared not fill in any other details. The future was unknown. What I did know was this. I was the only one who could do that mission. I’d struck a deal and hadn’t fulfilled my part of it. The military might not give me the choice. Certainly I had no desire to return, but I wasn’t sure I had the option open to me.

  “It’s better if we not talk about this now.”

  Jo Marie closed her eyes. “Mark, please. What is it?” She exhaled and added, “For the love of God, please don’t tell me you’ll be required to put yourself in danger again.”

  I didn’t answer. “Jo Marie, drop it.”

  The silence in the room was so thick and strong I could hear my own heartbeat.

  “Please,” I whispered. “I can’t bear for us to argue. I’m here. I’m alive. Isn’t that enough?”

  She bit down on her lower lip and slowly nodded. Leaning forward, she pressed her forehead against the back of my hand. “I’m afraid, Mark, afraid of the future. Afraid that I could still lose you, and I can’t bear that.”

  “I have no intention of dying. Just minutes ago I was dreaming about making you my wife and, God willing, thinking about the family we would raise. I don’t want to risk that any more than you do.”

  Her head shot up at that, her eyes wide and full of what I hoped was love but looked more like unease.

  “It’s a surprise I’m in love with you?” Surely she had to know the way I felt about her. I hadn’t kept my feelings a secret.

  “Mark, you’ve been away almost a year.” She stood and moved to the other side of the room. “I’ve gotten on with my life.”

  “Did you fall out of love with me?” I joked, but I needed to know.

  “No…”

  Just as I’d hoped. “I can assure you that every day I was away you were on my mind and in my heart. All I thought about was making it back in one piece so I could spend the rest of my life with you.”

  She continued to stare at me, and I noticed that her bottom lip had started to quiver. This wasn’t a good sign. Clearly there was something she wasn’t telling me. If she’d fallen for someone else, then it didn’t make sense that she’d spend every available minute with me at the hospital.

  The only thing I could think to do was remind her of how I felt about her. My feelings hadn’t changed while I’d been away. “When we met I’d basically opted out of life. I’d put the matter of love completely out of my mind. I’d been filled with guilt, and remorse, and then I met you and, Jo Marie, I knew. I knew almost from the first that you were going to turn my world upside down.”

  Tears brightened her eyes and she raised her fingertips to her mouth as if to hold back the words she knew would hurt me. “There’s…there’s something I need to tell you,” she whispered.

  I braced myself, convinced I wasn’t going to like it. Just hearing the dread in her voice caused my stomach to clench. “What is it?”

  Dropping my hand, she moved away and asked, “Do you remember what you said when you left?”

  “I said a lot of things.”

  Her shoulders were tense and she avoided meeting my eyes.

  “Are you thinking of something in particular that I might have said?” I prompted.

  “Yes.” She eased toward me and wrapped her fingers around the bedside railing. “You said I should live my life as if you weren’t coming back.”

  I stopped breathing, although I was sure she didn’t notice. It felt as if she’d pressed a concrete block over my chest. I waited for her to continue, refusing to prompt her.

  “I met someone,” she said, her voice low and uncertain.

  She waited for me to comment, but I said nothing.

  “His name is Greg.”

  I remained perfectly still and tried to absorb the words.

  Someone else.

  Greg.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything?” Jo Marie asked.

  “What would you like me to say?” I asked. Surely she wasn’t looking for me to congratulate her for following my advice.

  “I don’t know. Something.”

  “As far as I can see, there’s nothing left for me to say.”

  My jaw was clenched so tightly I was afraid of crushing my back molars.

  “I…I haven’t been seeing him long.”

  This was supposed to cheer me up? If that was the case, it wasn’t working.

  “He knows about you, so I thought it was only fair that you know about him.”

  “Do you love him?” I stared up at the ceiling, refusing to look at her. My teeth hurt from clenching them so tightly.

  “No…I don’t know.”

  “What are you looking for the two of us to do? Maybe we should have a pissing contest to see who wins your hand?”

  “What a ridiculous thing to suggest.”

  I didn’t think so. Here I was pouring out my heart, basically proposing, imagining the family we would one day raise together. No wonder Jo Marie had looked so uncomfortable.

  “He’s a widower…his wife died of cancer the same year as Paul was killed. He works…”

  “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not hear about him.”

  “Right,” she said, and looked guilty as sin. “I don’t mean to be insensitive.”

  “It’s a little late for that.”

  “Mark, you’re the one who left me; you’re the one who insisted you weren’t coming back.”

  I barely heard her. All I could think about was Jo Marie, my Jo Marie, with another man. “How serious is it?” I barked the question, surprised I had the strength to raise my voice.

  “I…I don’t know yet. It’s all rather confusing.”

  “You’re confused?” I asked and nearly laughed out loud. What a cliché.

  “It’s been a year, Mark. A year. I’m not the same woman you left behind. I’ve changed and so have you.”

  “No,” I argued. “I’m exactly the same man I was when I left Cedar Cove. If anything, I’m a better man.”

  “Okay, fine, you’re a better man, and now you’re telling me you’ve taken some kind of deep, dark secret assignment with the government that might mean…anything, but I wouldn’t know because you can’t talk about it. I don’t know how much more you intend to ask of me…you can’t or won’t talk. Am I supposed to just sit by and…wait to find out if you’re dead or alive?”

  Her words hung in the air between us like a tightrope walker s
uspended above the Grand Canyon.

  “I don’t remember asking you to give up anything,” I said.

  “You’re right, you didn’t. You assumed that I would.”

  “I made no such assumption,” I insisted, and I hadn’t. My hope was that given time we’d work everything out together. That was what a couple committed to each other did. What I didn’t know, which was naïve of me, I realized now, was that Jo Marie had met someone else.

  Neither of us spoke for what seemed like an eternity. I was the one who ventured first. “What was his name again? Gary?”

  “Greg.”

  I purposely asked when I knew full well what his name was. “You talk to him often?” Being that Jo Marie had been spending the majority of every day with me, it wasn’t likely they were seeing each other, at least not lately.

  “Yes.” She admitted this with some hesitation.

  “Good. Give him a message from me.”

  Her eyes darted back to me. “What kind of message?”

  “You explain to Gary…”

  “Greg,” she said heatedly.

  “Whatever. You tell Greg that I’m not giving you up. Tell him he has the fight of his life on his hands. I didn’t come this far to let another man steal you away. You got that, Jo Marie?”

  She nodded.

  “You hear me?”

  She nodded again.

  That message wasn’t just for Greg. It was for her, too.

  It was almost a week since I’d last seen Nick. We talked every day, though, often for hours on end. I heard him at night sometimes, walking around the inn, but I made a point of not seeking him out. His nighttime wanderings told me he still had trouble sleeping. I knew he wanted me to sit in the dark and talk the way we had before. I resisted. Becoming his crutch wasn’t part of the plan.

  I urged him to see a counselor and promised to go with him if that would help make it easier. At first he shrugged it off, but then, to my surprise, he agreed. I knew he meant to show me that he wasn’t looking to use me. This was his way of letting me know he was willing to make an effort to deal with the panic attacks.

  It was important that I protect my heart. It would be far too easy to fall in love with him. I was halfway there already. We were both wounded souls, and the intensity of the attraction was like swimming against an ocean current.

  Saturday morning I got a text message from Nick.

  What’s your day look like?

  I stared at the text for a long time, trying to assess what he was really asking. It shouldn’t be hard to decipher. He wanted to see me.

  Not much. What are you thinking?

  Can you stop by the house?

  I stared at the message for a long time. Long enough for him to send me an additional text.

  You were right.

  Right about what?

  The paint in the kitchen. Come see for yourself.

  I exhaled as I tried to think how best to respond. While I wanted to help him get past the trauma of the car accident, I felt he needed to get outside of the house. The renovations were an excuse he used to hole himself up.

  Take me out to lunch first.

  I waited after typing the words for what seemed like an eternity before he responded.

  Okay.

  All at once I realized I’d been holding my breath. And then I grinned.

  You sure you want to do this? He texted next.

  Already he was having second thoughts. Yup.

  Afraid of that.

  I sent him a smiley face. We agreed he would pick me up at the inn at noon, and on my recommendation he chose a local Mexican restaurant.

  I’d just put away my phone when Jo Marie came into the kitchen. She was dressed and ready to leave for the hospital. She hadn’t mentioned how Mark fared in the last few days, and that left me to wonder if all was well.

  “How’s it going?” I asked.

  Her eyes shot to mine as if I’d asked something shocking. “Okay.” She continued to stare at me.

  Something definitely was up and my guess was that it involved Greg. “Want to tell me what’s going on?” I asked. It went without saying that spending all her time at the hospital had put a physical and mental strain on her, but this was something more. We hadn’t had a chance to talk all week, and I was beginning to suspect she’d been avoiding me.

  “I’m fine,” she snapped.

  Obviously she wasn’t. I arched my eyebrows at her.

  Her shoulders sagged. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

  She appeared apprehensive and restless. Something was definitely not right. “Problems with Mark?” I asked, and I wasn’t referring to his medical issues.

  She shrugged and avoided what I was really asking. “He’s doing great, even better than expected, driving himself harder than he should.”

  I’d assumed as much, but that wasn’t what I wanted to know.

  She looked away as if gauging how much she wanted to tell me. Making her uncomfortable wasn’t something I wanted to do, nor did I intend on pressuring her into sharing confidences.

  “It’s fine,” I assured her, and because I felt she needed it, I gave her a quick hug.

  Stepping toward the kitchen counter, Jo Marie reached for a mug and poured herself a cup of coffee. “I made a mistake.”

  “Oh?” I didn’t want to pry, but if she wanted to talk, I had a ready ear and a solid shoulder.

  “I told Mark about Greg.” Her gaze remained focused on some distant point, as if she was deep in thought. “I wish now that I’d waited. It was too soon and now he’s pushing himself way too hard.” She sipped her coffee and I knew that was an excuse to keep the emotion at bay. “Mark started talking about our future and I had to stop him because I don’t know if we’ll be together…or if that’s what I want.”

  Frankly, I was stunned. Ever since we’d met, Jo Marie had been all about Mark. I knew from the moment she first mentioned his name that she loved him. Yes, she’d dated Greg, and I also knew that the two of them had hit it off. It came as a shock to realize her feelings for Greg had intensified to the point that they might take precedence over Mark.

  “You’re in love with Greg?” I asked, although it wasn’t really my business. I was surprised and unable to hide it.

  She looked like she was about to break into tears. “I don’t know…but I’m unwilling to break it off with him, especially when Mark might be required to return to the Middle East.”

  “What?” This was the first I’d heard of this. My breath caught in my throat. “He’s not going, is he?”

  Her shoulders sagged. “I don’t know…I as good as told him that if he did I was done. I refuse to sit at home and worry about him coming back. I can’t do it. I won’t.”

  Stunned, I hardly knew what to say.

  Jo Marie looked utterly miserable. Her eyes were shadowed and I doubted she slept more than a few hours at a stretch. “Greg and I talk and he knows something’s bothering me, but not what. I don’t want to lose him, but I don’t want him to think I’m using him.”

  “Greg knows about Mark, though, right?”

  “Yes, of course. I told him even before I knew Mark was alive.”

  “And when he learned Mark was stateside he decided he still wanted to be part of your life?” Although I asked, I knew he had. “He was willing to risk losing you, so I have to believe all he wants is for you to be honest with him.”

  “I meant what I said to Mark,” Jo Marie reiterated.

  I had to agree; it would be unreasonable of Mark to ask Jo Marie to wait.

  “This wasn’t a line in the sand,” she continued, “it’s one drawn across wet concrete. Once it dries there’s no going back.”

  I could see she was determined if the look in her eyes was anything to go by.

  “It’ll work itself out,” I said, playing the role of the optimist.

  “Perhaps,” she agreed, but she didn’t seem convinced.

  She left for the hospital soon after
ward and I served breakfast, cleaned the kitchen, and then tackled changing the sheets and getting the inn ready for another set of guests.

  By the time I finished and changed clothes, it was noon. I waited on the front porch, expecting Nick to stop by any minute. After fifteen minutes I realized he wasn’t coming. A text from him confirmed it. I studied my phone for several moments, doing my best to read between the lines. All he said was that something had come up. I didn’t believe him.

  Fine, then I’d go to him. I set off walking. As soon as I rounded the corner of Bethel Street, Nick’s house came into view. I felt its welcome the same as I did the first morning.

  Elvis, who was on the front porch, saw me first and barked a greeting. Almost right away, Nick stepped outside the kitchen door. Just from the way he stood I knew something was wrong. He leaned against the column with shoulders hunched forward as if he hated himself for having disappointed and failed me.

  “Hey,” I said, walking up the concrete pathway.

  “Hey.” He feigned a smile.

  “You’re late,” I said casually, keeping any censure out of my voice. “I thought we had a date.”

  “You didn’t get my text.”

  “I got it. Doesn’t look to me like you’re too busy to keep our lunch date.” Something had happened between this morning and now. From his earlier text he seemed eager to see me.

  I noticed that his hands had started to fidget, clenching and unclenching, and his legs shook. He was getting ready to have another panic attack.

  “Nick,” I said softly, gripping hold of his hand. “Tell me what’s happened.”

  “You should go.”

  “If you don’t want to take me to lunch, fine, but I thought you wanted me to check out the kitchen. You painted the walls, right?”

  “Come back another time.” His teeth were clenched.

  I could see he was barely holding himself together. The shaking in his hands and legs continued.

  “Please, Em, just go.”

  “Don’t think so. I want to know what happened.”

  Nick sank into a chair on the porch and his knees started to bob up and down and his breathing went shallow. “Just leave.”