Sweet Tomorrows

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Sweet Tomorrows Page 21

by Debbie Macomber


  Greg had been wonderful through all this. Never demanding, never showing outside signs of resentment or jealousy. He couldn’t have been more understanding.

  “Jo Marie,” he whispered and raised my fingers to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “Give me something to hold on to.”

  “I think there is a chance,” I said. “Yes, definitely, yes.”

  Greg kissed my fingertips a second time. “I wouldn’t be honest if I told you I was sorry things aren’t working out between you and Mark. Your happiness means a great deal to me. I’m fairly certain you already know how I feel about you.”

  “I do know.”

  “I accept that you have strong feelings for Mark.”

  I looked down and closed my eyes. I wished it wasn’t so. I loved him heart and soul, but I was determined to put him out of my mind if he felt it was necessary to return to this mission.

  That’s what he’d wanted me to do, what he’d asked I do—put him out of my mind.

  And that had worked so well a year ago when he first left. Oh yes, so well.

  Who was I kidding?

  I wasn’t able to sleep, and my last conversation with Nick was only part of the problem. After he said he wanted more than friendship from me, I’d holed up in my room and considered the consequences. Nick might think he was falling in love with me, and heaven knew I was a hair’s breadth away myself. But the complications of loving him were multiple.

  First off, I was an emotional crutch to Nick. For whatever reason he thought he needed me, and that need was distorted by the physical attraction we felt toward each other. As soon as he finished working out his brother’s death, it would be the end. I couldn’t allow him to play with my heart. Too much was at stake.

  If his admission wasn’t enough to keep me awake nights, the wedding invitation that arrived in Monday’s mail would have done it. A wedding invitation from James, whom I’d been engaged to just a year earlier. The man I’d once loved.

  Loved still.

  I didn’t expect to feel anything. I’d been the one who’d called off the wedding when I realized James loved Katie and Katie loved him. Breaking the engagement had been the right thing to do, but that didn’t make it easy.

  When I opened the invitation, the stab of pain I felt came unexpectedly and sharply, like a cut with a dull knife. My heart did this funny thing. It beat hard and fast and then seemed to stop completely before starting up again at a less frantic pace. I literally placed my hand over my breast as I struggled to breathe again.

  I should have been James’s bride. I should have been the one standing next to him at the altar. We’d been in love, and we would have had a good marriage because we’d both wanted the same thing—to share our lives with someone else. The fact that I couldn’t give James children hadn’t bothered him, and I’d believed him.

  Deep down, I had to wonder. My infertility hadn’t bothered Jayson, either, until his mother had got involved…or so I liked to think. With Jayson I had two strikes against me. Two very important ones. Love hadn’t been enough and I wondered if it ever would have been.

  I held the beautifully handcrafted invitation, each one done by hand, by Katie and James themselves. It was handwritten in gold ink in perfectly shaped and even lettering. Even though I knew it would be a small wedding, it still must have taken weeks to decorate and print these invites.

  I read the card again and again, struggling within myself, swallowing against that deep sense of loss, holding back the pain and the bitterness as best I could. It shouldn’t hurt this much, only it did, and far more than I ever anticipated.

  The envelope included a short handwritten note from Katie:

  Emily, please come. It would mean the world to us both.

  We hope to share our special day with you. You made it possible.

  Katie

  No way was I attending this wedding. No possible way.

  Didn’t Katie and James realize what sitting in that church would do to me? Didn’t they understand how painful watching them exchange vows would be? Yes, I’d stepped aside, but I didn’t need my face rubbed in their happiness.

  Sleeping Monday night proved to be utterly useless. I lay awake remembering how excited I was when James and I decided to marry. As crazy as it sounded, the first person I’d wanted to tell when James gave me that engagement ring was Jayson. He’d married a shockingly short time after we split. The woman was perfect for him. They had grown up together and shared the same faith. She came from a large family, which almost guaranteed she’d deliver a baseball team of children.

  Less than a year after he married, I’d gotten a birth announcement from Jayson. At first it had about killed me to read that he had a son. It took me a long time to realize why he would send me that announcement. Jayson wasn’t a cruel man. He’d genuinely loved me, genuinely cared. By sharing with me the news of the birth of his son, he was thanking me because I’d given him what he wanted, what he needed—a family of his own.

  Of course I hadn’t contacted Jayson to tell him I was engaged to James, and in retrospect I was glad I hadn’t, seeing what happened.

  I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. I’d loved two men and was dangerously close to loving another. I wasn’t going there. No way was I willing to risk my heart again. I’d done that and decided never again. Really, who could blame me? I was smart and brave but not that brave.

  I heard the noise in the yard below my balcony, and instinctively knew it was Nick and Elvis. I’d purposely avoided another night encounter, but with James’s wedding invite fresh on my mind, I needed to clear the air with Nick.

  Opening the balcony door, I stepped outside and set my hands against the railing. Nick stood below, staring up at the third floor, patiently waiting for me to show.

  When I stepped barefoot into the moonlight, he smiled up at me.

  “Either this is the reenactment of Romeo and Juliet or you’re Rapunzel.”

  Despite my depressed mood, I smiled.

  “Come on down?” he asked.

  Even from this distance, I could see that his eyes were bright and warm.

  Against my better judgment, I decided to cry on his shoulder. “I’ll be there in a few.”

  Nick met me at the kitchen door, which gave a soft beep when I opened it.

  Elvis strained against the leash, looking for me to pet his ears, which I did, loving the feel of his soft fur against my fingertips.

  “Missed you,” Nick said.

  Hearing that only depressed me more. “It’s only been one day.”

  “Two,” he corrected. “I didn’t see you Sunday, and not Monday, either.”

  It was barely past midnight. “You’re not breaking your appointment later today, are you?”

  “No. I made a promise and I intend to keep it. Let’s sit on the porch.”

  I followed him around the veranda, to where Jo Marie had set up the chairs and a loveseat. Nick took the loveseat, which was a bit farther down from the two chairs, and motioned for me to join him.

  I hesitated and then took a seat next to him. Right away he looped his arm around my shoulders. With everything that was buzzing around in my head, I held myself stiff. I didn’t want him to touch me and at the same I craved it, needed it.

  “Okay, what’s got you all wadded up in a tight ball?”

  I was surprised he’d noticed.

  “I meant what I said, you know. I’m looking to make you my girl.”

  “Nick, don’t, please, you don’t know me.”

  “I know enough.”

  That was doubtful. “Okay, what do you know about me?” We’d had several long conversations over the last couple weeks, and I expected him to parrot back our discussions. We’d shared childhood stories and the like, talked about friends, books, and politics, and surprisingly we often agreed.

  “Well, for one thing, you get these three tiny lines between your eyes when you’re worried.” He pressed his index finger against the bridge of my nose. “They’re
there now so I know you’ve got something weighing on your mind.”

  “I do?” I raised my hand to the bridge of my nose to investigate.

  “Yup, and when you’re nervous or agitated you tend to tap your right foot.”

  “I do not.”

  “Sweetheart, I’ve seen you do it a dozen times. Bet you didn’t even know you’re doing it. And something else, you have a rotten sense of direction.”

  My jaw dropped. What he said was true, but it wasn’t like I’d been navigating for him. “How do you know that?”

  He grinned and leaned forward to press a kiss on the top of my head. “Been watching you run for a while. The first few times you got to the end of the block and stopped as if trying to remember which way back to the inn. And twice that I know of you’ve gone the wrong direction.”

  I had gotten lost the first couple times I’d run down Bethel at a fork in the road.

  “Need me to tell you more?” he asking, looking quite pleased with himself. “Like the fact that you lick your bottom lip when you’re anxious.”

  “No.” He did know me in ways I barely knew myself, and that surprised me. Nick surprised me. I wasn’t sure I knew him as well or in quite the same way.

  “I can tell you who your best friend was in grade school, too,” he added, looking quite pleased with himself.

  “No, you can’t.” I didn’t ever remember mentioning Carol. She’d moved to St. Louis when we were high school sophomores. We’d kept in touch all through our teens and into early adulthood, but over the last few years we’d drifted apart. These days our friendship had boiled down to a Christmas card exchange. She was married with three kids and we didn’t have a lot in common any longer.

  “Carol.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “How’d you know that?”

  “You told me.”

  “Did not,” I protested; I clearly must have mentioned Carol at some point, although I couldn’t remember when.

  “Did, too. Now talk to me.”

  I tucked my bare feet on the edge of the loveseat and rested my chin on my knees.

  He grinned. “You do that, too, when you’d rather not talk.”

  “Do what?” I was literally stunned by how much he knew about my quirks and mannerisms already, and apparently there was even more.

  “You tuck your feet up and wrap your arms around your knees when you’re looking to avoid discussing something. You turn yourself into a tight ball as if to close out the world.”

  At his words I immediately dropped my feet.

  “Too late, baby. Now tell me what’s going on in that mind of yours. Is it what I told you on Saturday? About rethinking this whole friendship situation? The thing I should have explained is that keeping my hands off you isn’t working for me. My feelings run deeper than I suspected. I want to be a lot more than just your friend. I’m serious, Em.”

  It felt as if the world was folding in on me. My breathing went shallow and I tucked my feet up against the edge of the loveseat just the way he knew I would. “I can’t deal with that, Nick. Not when I just—” I bit off what I was about to say, which was more than I ever meant to tell him.

  “What did you get?”

  I leaned slightly forward, setting my gaze on the Bremerton shipyard on the other side of the cove. “You know I’ve been engaged before.”

  “Twice, as I recall.” Nick grew quiet then, and his eyes became intense. “Are you still in love with one of them? Or both? Is that the problem?”

  It’d been a long time since I’d asked myself that question. What surprised me, what caught me unaware, was how my feelings for Jayson had changed. I loved him but I didn’t think about him every day the way I once had. When his name floated across my mind, there wasn’t this instant flash of pain or regret. Time was a great healer, I realized, surprised by the revelation. It was the same with James or so I’d assumed. I suspected that was the reason the pain I felt when I read the wedding invitation caught me unaware.

  I didn’t answer right away because I needed to carefully frame my response. “Yes, I suppose I do love both men, just not in the same way I did when we were engaged.”

  “So tell me what happened that has you upset?” he asked, gently rubbing my back.

  I swallowed tightly and decided it was foolish not to explain. If he wasn’t being so gentle and kind and his hand wasn’t wreaking havoc with my senses I might have been able to let it go. “An invitation to James and Katie’s wedding arrived in the mail this afternoon.” My voice cracked on the last two words. I drew in a deep breath, hoping that would steady my pounding heart.

  Nick’s arms tightened around my shoulders and he kissed the top of my head. “That hurt, didn’t it?”

  “Big time.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be, babe.”

  “I know.” Katie was a much better choice of a wife for James, as difficult as it was to admit.

  “Are you going?”

  “To the wedding?” I shook my head. “No way.”

  “You should. It’ll be cathartic for you, emotionally liberating. It will tell James and Katie that you’ve moved on and that you wish them well. It won’t be easy, I know, but you need to do this for you and for them.”

  “I need to do this?” I couldn’t believe Nick, the man who used me as an emotional crutch, was telling me it was time to move on. “Would it be appropriate for me to show up in the wedding dress I purchased after James gave me an engagement ring?” It was a stupid question and I regretted it the instant the words left my mouth. “Forget I said that.”

  His arm, which was still around my shoulders, gave me a gentle squeeze. “Would you like me to go with you?” he asked, his offer tender and caring.

  The suggestion shocked me. Nick had a hard time being around a lot of people. I’d seen what’d happened in the tavern and how the fear of another panic attack ruled his life. It was these visits when we sat in the dark when he was most comfortable. It was as if all the walls around him had been lowered and he was free to be himself.

  “You’d do that? You’d attend the wedding with me?”

  “For you I would.”

  I wished he wouldn’t say those kind of things to me because they made me weak and left me feeling vulnerable. “I can’t fall in love with you, Nick. I can’t, please don’t be sweet and understanding.” Comforting or gentle, either; it was more than my poor heart could resist. “It always starts out like this and then it changes.”

  “What changes?”

  “Everything.”

  “Em, you’re not making any sense.”

  “If you need me to spell it out, then fine. You think you care now, but eventually the fact I’m infertile will sink in and you’ll start to emotionally withdraw from me. I’ve lived this, Nick, I know what’s coming. I’m protecting myself and you’re not making it any easier, so please, please, stop being so good to me. I won’t be able to bear it when you leave me.”

  “Leave you? Not happening, Em. My feelings aren’t going to change. No way. As for keeping my hands off you, not kissing you. The way I feel about you…can’t do it, babe. Sorry. I’ll try if you want, but I’m not making any promises. You’ve been there for me and I appreciate it more than you know. When my turn comes, I want to do the same for you. You decide. You want me with you then I’m there. Either with or without me, you need to make an appearance at that wedding.”

  We spent another hour talking, and by the time Nick left I felt I could sleep, and I did for a full seven hours nonstop. It was the most relaxing sleep I’d had in weeks.

  —

  Tuesday afternoon I picked Nick up at the house, and together we drove to the counselor’s office. Although he tried to hide it, Nick was nervous. He sat on his hands in the waiting room, then got up and paced the area until his name was called.

  “I’ll be right here waiting,” I assured him.

  His eyes held mine. “I wouldn’t do this for anyone else. You know that, right?”

  I assured him I d
id. Before he walked through the office door, he looked back at me just once and I saw the apprehension and fear in his eyes. Wanting to reassure him, I blew him a kiss, letting him know without words how glad I was that he’d taken this first step toward recovery.

  While I sat in the waiting area for the next hour, I had time to think about the things Nick and I had discussed in the wee hours of that morning. He was almost a different person in the dark: relaxed, talkative, insightful, and witty. It was when he was forced into the light, surrounded by people, that he grew agitated and afraid. That was when he suffered the worst of the panic attacks.

  An hour later he walked back into the waiting area. He didn’t look at me but headed straight toward the exit as if he couldn’t get away fast enough. Jumping up from my seat, I quickly followed him outside.

  “How’d it go?” I asked, following on his heels, having trouble keeping up with him.

  “Get me home,” he said. “Just get me home.”

  Once inside the car, his knees started to bounce. I took one hand off the steering wheel and placed it on his upper thigh. He reached for it, squeezing my fingers tightly.

  I’d hoped this counselor would help, but now I was afraid she’d made everything worse.

  And Nick’s parents were coming that weekend.

  This didn’t bode well.

  I’d lost Jo Marie. I knew it the minute she mentioned this other man she was dating, but I had no one to blame but myself. I was the one who, in a weak moment, told her to move on with her life and forget about me. How very heroic and stupid of me. But then I’d lived a life full of regrets.

  While I might have suggested she get on with her life, I hadn’t done the same. I hadn’t forgotten her, not for a solitary moment. Jo Marie was a part of me like a second skin. I did everything humanly possible to stay alive so I could get back to her. She was the very reason I’d managed to survive. She was the air I breathed, the very beat of my heart.

  My everything.

  Before leaving for Iraq, I’d actually enjoyed sparring with her. I’d often be purposely obtuse and found pleasure in unsettling her. After Paul she needed someone to shake her up, stir her emotions away from her grief.

 

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