Sweet Tomorrows

by Debbie Macomber

  “Chuck,” Nick’s father said, “and my wife, Marie.”

  It wasn’t hard to see the family resemblance. Chuck was over six feet, with broad shoulders and thick dark hair just like Nick. From our conversations I knew he was involved in the lumber industry and had retired a few years back. His mother had been a nurse and she, too, had recently retired.

  “I’m pleased to meet you both,” I said.

  Nick pulled out a chair for me to sit and then took the seat next to me. He reached for my hand. I’d rather he hadn’t, but I wouldn’t embarrass him or myself by pulling it free of his hold.

  “Nick’s told us a lot about you,” his mother commented. Her eyes were warm and kind but carried a deep pain. “We’re grateful for all you’ve done for our son.”

  I glanced at Nick, wondering exactly what he’d told them.

  He offered me a reassuring smile.

  “Hard to understand why a pretty gal like you has never married,” Chuck said.

  My breath froze in my lungs. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t heard this before. People in my parents’ generation seemed to think every woman needed a husband. To be fair, I’d wanted that, too, wanted the husband and the family.

  “We were hoping to meet you,” Marie continued in a soft, cultured voice.

  “To thank you,” Chuck added.

  “Thank me?” I swiveled my attention to Nick’s father.

  “Nick tells me you’ve convinced him to talk to a counselor.”

  “Yes, his first appointment was this week. His next one is Monday and then again on Friday.” Although Nick hadn’t been keen to continue after that first session, he’d agreed to follow through. I knew it was hard scraping open a wound that had only started to heal, but it was necessary.

  “You’ve been a tremendous help to Nick,” Marie continued. “He’s been singing your praises ever since we arrived. We’re grateful you’ve given our son the courage to face the future.” Her voice wobbled as she struggled with emotion, but she righted it and didn’t allow it to overtake her.

  “Nick explained that meeting you this summer has made a big difference,” his father added.

  “I…I don’t know what Nick told you,” I said, feeling it was important to correct any misunderstanding, “but I’ve done very little.”

  “Nick needs someone like you,” Marie continued. “You’re exactly the kind of woman I’d hoped he’d find.”

  My gaze shot to Nick. I didn’t know what he’d said, but from the gist of the conversation it sounded as if he’d made our relationship sound far more serious than it was, than I intended.

  “Son, show me that electrical panel again, would you?”

  This was a blatant attempt to get me alone with Marie.

  Nick reluctantly stood, his eyes on me. I gave him a small smile, assuring him all was well and he need not worry.

  As soon as the two men were out of the room, I spoke first. “I have a feeling Nick implied there was more between us than there is. We’re friends and that’s all it’s likely to be.”

  Marie’s face fell. “Not according to Nick.”

  “Yes, well…”

  “He’s falling in love with you, Emily. Surely you know that.” She wore a wounded look, as if I’d dashed her hopes. “He told us how everything changed after he met you and how good you’ve been for him and how you’ve helped him. Once we’d cleared the air about what happened that awful night with Brad, you were all Nick talked about.” She paused and then added in a low, wounded voice, “Please, don’t hurt him. Nick is in a fragile place.”

  “So am I,” I told her. We’d both had a year. A year since Brad died and a year since James saw Katie again.

  “Ah,” she murmured, “that explains it.”

  “Explains what?” I asked, raising my head and straightening my shoulders.

  “What drew the two of you to each other.”

  I could argue but didn’t. Following what had happened with Jayson’s mother, I felt it was necessary to explain my situation before she started dreaming of Nick and me together, giving her grandbabies to cuddle and love.

  “You should know something about me,” I said, and wondered if three tiny lines had appeared between my eyes the way Nick claimed they did when I was nervous.

  Marie leaned forward and pressed her hand over mine. “I already know. Nick told us.”

  “He told you I’m infertile?” I bristled. This was private information, which I’d shared with relatively few.

  “Don’t be upset with him.”

  “He told me—”

  “I know what he said,” Marie interrupted. “He told us that it originally shook him, too, but he has since decided it doesn’t matter. If your relationship progresses to the point you want to make a serious commitment, then you can always adopt. That was Brad’s plan from the first. There are far too many children who need a loving home, and you’re a loving person.”

  Nick and his father returned and I was sorry to see them. I wished Marie and I had had more time to talk.

  “Honey, look at the time. We need to get on the road if we’re going to make it to Salem by nightfall.”

  Marie glanced at her wrist. “My goodness, the afternoon’s gotten away from us, but we couldn’t leave without meeting you, Emily, and thanking you.”

  “We have a long drive ahead of us,” Chuck explained to me.

  Marie took the empty coffee mugs and set them inside the kitchen sink and paused to look around the room. “Nick told us you helped choose the colors in the kitchen and a couple of the bedrooms. It really looks nice.”

  “You’ve done a good job with the renovations,” Chuck added and slapped his son across the back.

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  Marie gathered her purse and impulsively hugged me. “I don’t think you understand all you’ve done to help Nick,” she whispered, and added a gentle squeeze. “I feel like we have our son back and I know you had a great deal to do with that.”

  Nick and I walked his parents out of the house and then stood on the porch as they climbed into the car. Nick wrapped his arm around my waist and kept me close to his side. He waved as his father backed out of the driveway.

  I waited until they were out of sight. “Nick, what did you tell your parents about us?”

  His grin was as big as I’ve ever seen it. “I told them how I felt about you and that I hoped we could be a couple. I told them that in many ways you’ve saved me. Without you I don’t know if I’d have found the courage to continue. I might easily have decided to bury myself inside this house and leave only when absolutely necessary. I told them you’ve suffered disappointments when it came to men and marriage.”

  “You didn’t.” I pressed both hands over my face. “And you told them why, too, didn’t you?”

  He hesitated and then admitted it. “I did.”

  “Oh Nick, I wish you hadn’t.”

  “It’s part of the healing process, Em. An important part. Healing for you and for me.”

  I sat down on the top step of the porch and Nick joined me. Wanting to turn the conversation away from me, I asked him how the conversation had gone with his parents. “You squared things with your family about Brad and the accident?”

  I felt Nick tense at the question. “We were able to talk openly and freely for the first time since the funeral.” He wiped his hand down his face. “Truly, I don’t remember a lot about Brad’s services.”

  “It was the shock and the grief.”

  “In part, yes, but I was drunk out of my mind. It was the only way I could get through the day.”

  “Oh Nick.” I placed my hand on his forearm, experiencing the need to touch him.

  “It wasn’t one of my finer moments.”

  I could only begin to imagine his personal agony. He placed his hand over mine and we intertwined our fingers. He raised my hand to his mouth and kissed the back. “I don’t know that it’s possible to forgive myself for what happened to Brad. What I do know is that since meet
ing you I feel that I can move forward. The panic attacks aren’t as frequent, and I find I can sleep most nights now.”

  His fingers tightened over mine, although I was convinced he didn’t realize what he was doing.

  “I can talk to my parents now, and as little as three months ago that wouldn’t have been possible. I think my mother said it best. She told me Brad would be the first one to want me to have a good life.” He swallowed hard, and I knew telling me this was difficult for him. “I wish you’d known him, Em. He was the best brother anyone could ever ask for. His heart was huge and he loved kids. Really loved kids and they felt that and loved him back.”

  I leaned my head against his upper arm.

  “He was smart, too, always got top grades. He could have gone into any profession and made a hell of a lot more money than he did as a social worker, but that was what he loved.”

  He took a moment to collect himself before he continued. “Brad was a natural born leader. Student body president in both high school and college; he could have gone into politics if he’d wanted. That wasn’t for him, though. For Brad it was all about the kids.”

  “I do wish I’d known him.”

  Nick hugged me then. The moment was tender, sweet. I understood what it had taken Nick to tell me about his brother and the tremendous loss his death had brought about.

  We sat in companionable silence for several moments. Nick was the first to speak. “Everything okay with you?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Jo Marie?”

  “Better now that Mark is at the house.” We’d had long conversations regarding Jo Marie and Mark and the complications in their relationship.

  “Has Mark met Greg yet?”

  “No, but I have a distinct feeling that’s about to happen.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, Greg phoned shortly after Jo Marie brought Mark home.” I hadn’t heard the conversation, but I knew it’d been brief. What I didn’t mention was that I heard Jo Marie tell Greg that his stopping by to see her on Monday wouldn’t be a good idea. Although I couldn’t hear his answer, I knew it upset Jo Marie that Greg was so insistent. She must have mentioned it to Mark because he was equally adamant that Greg come. He apparently talked Jo Marie into it.

  “So Mark’s about to meet his competition,” Nick thought aloud. “I don’t know how I’d feel if there was another man in your life.”

  I didn’t know if I should be grateful or not.

  Tucking his finger beneath my chin, Nick turned my head so that I was forced to meet his look. “I have the most overwhelming urge to kiss you. Are you going to let me, Em?”

  I debated how best to answer and then smiled and nodded.

  Slowly his mouth descended to mine. It’d been weeks since he’d last kissed me, and all I could say was that it had been worth the wait.

  “Are you comfortable?” Jo Marie asked, bringing me a cup of hot tea. I sat on the veranda, overlooking the cove. I’d dreamed of this moment, of sitting with Jo Marie as I had so often in the past. I’d missed these moments more than anything. It was here, with Jo Marie at my side, that I’d found the courage to confront my past. It was here that I’d made the decision to find Ibrahim and right the wrong done to my friend and his family.

  “Mark?” she said, shaking me from my thoughts. “Do you need anything more?”

  “I’m perfect, thank you.” I motioned toward the chair at my side. “Sit with me awhile.”

  “I can’t, I’ve got things I need to do.” I heard the regret in her voice.

  “Sit,” I insisted. “Just for a few minutes. I feel stronger when you’re with me.” This weakness was a constant irritation. I barely had the strength to walk more than a few yards before I tired. Yes, I was healing, but the progress was much slower than I wanted. I’d been through hell and healing would take time. The doctors had repeatedly reminded me my body had its own schedule and didn’t necessarily care about mine. Time, however, wasn’t on my side.

  “Okay,” Jo Marie agreed and sat down beside me. What I said was true. She did give me strength. Having her close had a strong impact on me. It was as if my body sucked in her energy, her love, and that aided the healing process.

  She’d been fussing over me ever since I’d arrived at the inn, waiting on me, checking every few minutes, giving me my medications, seeing that I was as comfortable as she could make me. Anything I needed or wanted she was there to make happen. While I deeply appreciated her efforts, I didn’t want her wearing herself out on my account.

  I reached for her hand, loving the feel of her smooth skin, a stark contrast to my own much darker one. “Relax,” I told her.

  “I have stuff…”

  “Relax,” I ordered. “There’s nothing more important than you sitting with me.”

  “But…”

  “Close your eyes.”

  “Mark.”

  “Close your eyes,” I demanded a second time.

  She complied, begrudgingly.

  “Now exhale.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a relaxing technique,” I explained.

  “I’m relaxed.”

  She wasn’t, but I wouldn’t argue with her.

  “Feel the sun?”

  “Yes.” She tilted her head toward the warm light.

  “It’s going to be a beautiful day.”

  “It is,” she agreed, her voice fading.

  It was supposed to be eighty-five and sunny, a perfect summer day in the Pacific Northwest.

  I waited several minutes, and from the way Jo Marie’s shoulders sagged forward I thought she might have fallen asleep. Good. A cat nap would refresh her. Being a burden to Jo Marie didn’t sit well with me. True, I needed her for now, but I hoped that would change soon.

  While she rested, I let my mind wander over the future. Just before I was discharged from the hospital I’d heard from Milford. The Pentagon had an offer; this one was perfect for Jo Marie and me. The job would place me in Bremerton, which was directly across the water from Cedar Cove. Unfortunately, it came with a stipulation that would require me to return to Iraq. Nothing came easy these days. I knew how strongly Jo Marie felt about my going back and I wasn’t sure I could do that to her. It left me to wonder why life had to be so complicated. Despite my doubts, it seemed the various government agencies did speak to one another.

  If I took the job I would be able to do what I had been trained to do and what I loved and still be able to be with Jo Marie. However, if I decided to return to the Middle East I took a very big risk of losing Jo Marie. I had duty tugging at one side and my love for Jo Marie on the other. It wasn’t an easy decision, and frankly, I was miserable, unsure what would be best.

  As I was pondering my choices, Jo Marie jerked herself awake and sat upright. “You let me fall asleep.”

  “You needed it.”

  “Mark,” she complained.

  I stopped her by reaching for her hand and kissing it. “Okay, get busy. You’re baking me cookies, right?”

  She laughed.

  “You promised to fatten me up, remember?”

  “So I did.” Leaning forward, she kissed my cheek and headed back into the house.

  Breathing in the fresh air, I soaked in the peace and quiet of the morning. A bee collected nectar from the potted red Martha Washington geraniums Jo Marie had set along the edge of the porch. I’d built those wooden containers for her.

  My gaze automatically traveled to the gazebo. Jo Marie had shown me a photo, and I’d drawn up the plans and built that as well. My fingerprints were all over this inn. I remembered the first time I sat down at my drafting table with the photo of the gazebo Jo Marie wanted me to use as a model. I was already crazy in love with her, and holding all that emotion inside of me.

  As I stared at the glossy sheet she’d torn from a magazine, I’d imagined the two of us standing before a man of God and exchanging our own wedding vows there. Even then I knew I wanted to marry her. I’d waited, bided my time, tried t
o find a way to explain my past and what had led me to this point. I’d hardly been able to live with myself, and it seemed grossly unfair to ask Jo Marie to share this life with me. It was then that I realized I couldn’t. As much as I loved her, I didn’t consider myself worthy of the love of this woman. A woman whose dead husband had been a war hero when I considered myself a coward for turning my back on my friend. That afternoon was when I made the decision to do the impossible and return to Iraq. The real question was how I could properly love her when I didn’t love myself.

  With my head full of marrying Jo Marie, I’d drawn up the plans for the gazebo. I wanted her as my wife, needed her with me. Now there was some other guy who wanted her. No way was I letting this interloper get the upper hand. By all that was holy, I vowed I wouldn’t lose her. I refused to live without Jo Marie. If she thought I was going to step aside and let some other man steal her away from me, then she didn’t know me nearly as well as she should.

  —

  Now that I was at the inn, Greg called when he knew Jo Marie was away. Emily answered the phone. I heard her explain that Jo Marie was out for the afternoon. Then she came to ask me if I was available to talk.

  Greg and I spoke briefly and arranged a time to meet this afternoon. Although my mind had been in turmoil, plagued with doubts and worries, my body took control and I’d slept for two hours before he arrived.

  Emily must have said something to Jo Marie because she was nervous all morning. She fluttered from room to room like a butterfly inspecting garden flowers. I didn’t know what she expected to happen. It wasn’t likely Greg would attempt to wrestle me to the ground or that we’d take twenty paces and fire dueling pistols at each other. I was looking forward to meeting him and squaring matters. I determined that by the time he left he’d know in no uncertain terms Jo Marie was mine.

  Greg arrived at about four. I couldn’t hear what Jo Marie said, but I heard his response. “I’ll introduce myself.”

  We’d both agreed earlier that this conversation was between the two of us. Neither of us wanted to involve Jo Marie.

  Greg found me sitting on the veranda. “I’m Greg,” he said. “Greg Endsley.”