I need you, too. But she didn’t say it, couldn’t say it and widen the schism she felt. “I got you into this. The least I can do is ride it out with you.”
“Thank you. I knew you’d understand. And I promise I’ll be there the second I can. Am I ruining your timing totally?”
She could hear the relief in his voice. It grated that he was deaf to the pain in hers. She looked around her at the dinner so carefully planned and timed. “Nothing that can’t be handled. If something’s overdone, I’ll just be glad you’re not a picky eater.”
Tom chuckled. “I’ll be grateful for every crumb. Besides, it’s the time together that’s important, right? Not the food.”
Time that Luisa was draining away. And the food was important, damn it. It was all part of the mood she’d planned to weave around him.
But he was trying to do the right thing. Just to help Carlos, that was all.
“Just hurry home before the time is all gone.”
“I’ll do everything in my power. Thanks, babe. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” She heard the click in her ear.
And Luisa’s not the only one who needs you.
* * *
Reheated focaccia bread left a great deal to be desired, but Tom swirled it in the olive oil and ate as though he’d been weeks without food. Same for the pesto, which she’d delayed making until the basil was going limp, but he didn’t seem to mind it, either.
“God, I was starving. Fabulous meal, Ava. Thanks for waiting for me. I had no idea it would take so long.”
“Why did it?” She was proud of the calm in her voice. At nine o’clock at night, it was hard-earned.
“Couldn’t find him,” he responded, swallowing a sip of wine. “We hunted for almost three hours.”
“I thought Luisa was going home.”
“She was. She did, once we found him, but I needed her help to track him down.”
“Ramon didn’t know where he was?”
Tom shook his head. “Apparently he meant his promise to Carlos that the boy would have more freedom, living with him.”
“So where was he?”
“In Rosewood Park, shooting baskets.”
“With his friends?”
“Not friends I’d want him to have.”
“Oh, no. How did Luisa take it?”
“That’s part of what took me so long. I didn’t make much headway with Carlos, and then Luisa was ready to charge over there and force him to come home with her.”
“Maybe that’s where he should be.”
Tom sighed. “He probably should, but not the way he feels right now. Ramon’s got that boy snookered, good and proper.”
She didn’t really want to spend the whole evening, what was left of it, talking about Carlos. Or Luisa. Especially not when Tom looked so tired.
But she wanted to know where this was going. “So what happens now?”
He leaned back in his chair and studied his wineglass. “I wish I knew. Carlos agreed to go to school tomorrow and to take the make-up state test the principal was willing to offer. But he says he does the best he can with his homework and hasn’t missed that much. Trouble is, the school doesn’t agree.”
“Luisa must be crazed.”
He glanced over. “She is. I hated to leave her like that, and I’m not sure I helped.”
“She’s got to work this out on her own, Tom. This is between her and Carlos. And Ramon.”
“I know,” he sighed. “But she’s so alone.”
Ava’s fingers tightened on her glass. “She’s not your problem.”
“I know.” He leaned his head on one hand. “But she’s not strong like you.”
“Bullshit, Tom. She’s the strongest person I know.”
“She’s more scared and vulnerable than you realize.”
“Do we have a problem here?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
Careful, Ava. Don’t go there. Don’t imagine things that aren’t real. “I just…” she tried her best for a casual tone. “I simply wonder if our intervention might be doing more harm than good.”
“I might not have all the answers, but I know I’ve helped her, which is more than she had before.”
You’re my husband, not hers. But surely it was petty to feel that way. She was sick to death of talking about Luisa. Drawing a deep breath, she forced herself to take a slow sip of wine instead of responding immediately.
Then, looking at her hands, she ventured, “Do you think we could save a little of this night for ourselves?”
He gave a wry grin. “You’re right. There’s nothing else I can do tonight, and I did promise you a night to remember. This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
Ava smiled back. “Me neither.” Rising from her place, she held out her hand. “Perhaps we could save dessert for later?”
The devil’s grin flashed, reminding her that he was still here and still hers, unless she drove him away with unreasoning jealousy.
We’ll be all right. We’ve got something special.
“Come with me, woman. There are appetites…and there are appetites. Chocolate can wait.” Tom drew her close, and Ava went willingly, trying to snuff out the nagging little voice inside her head.
Chapter Two
‡
Sylvie stood by her mother’s bedside, watching her breathe, trying to decide how to feel. The charge nurse had called to talk with her about what she’d been refusing to see—that Margo was failing, dying by the day.
Stroking the snowy hair, Sylvie spoke softly. “Please…just one more time, Mother. Please come back to me.”
And though she knew the words were utter foolishness, something in her heart couldn’t quit hoping for that one last miracle…that one moment she’d sell her soul to have. That one last conversation with the Margo she’d known.
Who’d known her.
Pressing a kiss to Margo’s forehead, Sylvie stepped back and squared her shoulders, dry-eyed and dry of heart as she left the building.
It wasn’t until she saw Gabe waiting beside his car that she began to cry.
He crossed the distance between them and drew her into his arms, rocking her from side to side in the age-old rhythm of comfort.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured.
Sylvie lifted her gaze to his calm gray eyes. “How did you know to be here?”
“I heard your side of the phone call. I wasn’t sure you’d let me come with you, so I followed instead.”
“Oh, Gabe,” she cried out. “Why?”
He knew what she meant. “We can’t know why bad things happen to good people. All we can do is deal with what we’re handed.” He kept one arm tight around her and lifted her chin with his other hand. “It’s been a long, hard road, and I know you’re exhausted.”
Sylvie dropped her head, touched to new tears by his words.
Gabe led her outside under a tree, settling the two of them on a bench in the early morning sunshine.
She kept her face against his neck, suddenly too tired and defeated to move. “I can’t bear this,” she whispered.
“You won’t have to bear it alone. I’m not going anywhere.”
Those words drove a stake into her heart. By leaning on him, she was dooming Gabe to this same despair someday. “Gabe.” Sylvie lifted her head again, filled with certainty once more. “You have to go away. I can’t bear thinking of you feeling the way I do right now. I can’t claim to love you and let you risk this.”
His jaw tightened. “Sylvie, you have to get the test done. You can’t wonder any longer.”
“I checked,” she whispered. “As long as I don’t show any symptoms, there’s no way to know for sure.”
He never hesitated. “Then we’ll deal with whatever happens.”
Her heart twisted. “No. I’m wrong for you, Gabe. You’ve got to let me go.”
Gabe threw back his head, the cords in his strong throat showing his exasperation. “I am so eternally
tired of this—” His eyes sparked. “I am not going to stop loving you, no matter how angry you make me. I am not going to leave you—ever. If this is my fate, then I’ll deal with it. And if I’m willing, who the hell are you to tell me I can’t? Tell me that, Sylvie. Just who the hell do you think you are?”
He pulled away and stared across the lawn, his jaw flexing. She watched the tension in his frame and wondered who was right. Was it greater love to let him stay…or to make him go?
She knew the crux of the matter was her desperate need to have him with her—and her intense shame that it was so. Of the lessons in life Margo had taught her, none had been more thoroughly pounded into her head than the price of needing a man too much.
She wanted things to be as they once had been—independent Sylvie and carefree Gabe, coming together because each was the most interesting person the other had ever known. She wanted to present perfection to him…a woman who loved him but didn’t need him, who had no hidden time bombs that would one day tear his heart out. A woman to experience life’s myriad pleasures with…but never one who extracted a penalty for that pleasure.
She was best suited to be a concubine, a mistress. She didn’t know how to lean. Yet anymore, that seemed to be her most pressing need, to lean on Gabe so that she could survive losing Margo…survive knowing that beneath her polished surface might lie a defect that would exact from him a cost beyond bearing.
“Gabe, please don’t…”
He whipped around. “Damn it, Sylvie, I’m a grown man. Older than you. Considered by most people to be intelligent and competent. Why the devil won’t you believe me when I tell you I know what I’m getting into? Even if the worst happens, who the hell are you to tell me whom I can and cannot love?”
“But it’s not fair!” she cried out, clenching her fists tightly. “It’s—not—fair.”
“Whoever said life was fair? It’s not fair that you should be ruining every minute of every day we have together because you are too damn gutless to lean on me. I’m not afraid—you’re afraid, and your fear is all you’re hearing anymore.
“But let me tell you something, Sylvie Everett. You can’t stop me from loving you. All you can do is to wreck the present we could be having because you’re afraid of a future I’ve already accepted and am willing to face.”
“But I’m not!” she shouted. “I don’t want to be that person who forgets the ones she loves. I don’t want to be an object of pity. I don’t want you regretting the day that you didn’t listen to me—that you didn’t walk away when you could, and I won’t be able to release you by then. You’ll be trapped forever in this nightmare, Gabe—and it’s hell!”
Sylvie hugged her arms around herself so she would not fly apart under the combined weight of her grief and her shame. Hunched over on the bench, she didn’t hear Gabe approach until he crouched before her and took her cold, pale hands in his big warm ones.
“Goddammit,” he bit out. “I can’t stand this.”
Then go, she thought. Please walk away. Now, before I lose the strength to offer again.
But she said nothing, just huddled into the pain that was an ax blade cleaving her heart.
He sighed. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Sylvie? For me to give up. Then you’d never have to face the fact that there’s always a price to love. To let me stay would make you do what you hate most—make yourself vulnerable.
“You’d have to give up some of your goddamn independence and let someone else take care of you for a change.” With a shaky chuckle, he leaned his own head against her hands.
Sylvie couldn’t resist touching his bowed head and stroking the dark hair sprinkled with gray, wondering how much longer she could keep making him pay a price for loving her.
Wondering what she’d ever done to deserve him.
Gabe lifted his head. “Love isn’t about the easy times, Syl. Anybody can handle those. Love is about how you dig in when it’s rough, how you hunker down and weather them. That’s when you show your character.
“None of us can control what’s thrown at us, no matter how hard we try. All we can control is how we react to it. For a woman I’ve always considered uncommonly brave, you are acting like a gutless coward. It’s beneath you, Sylvie. You can do better than this.”
She jutted her chin. “I’m trying to do the right thing by you.”
His eyes were fierce and determined. “The right thing is not always your call to make.”
Sylvie stiffened, and Gabe smiled.
“You are so damn predictable sometimes,” he chuckled softly. “I don’t want to spend our days arguing. You’re suffering too much already. You’re afraid to believe I won’t regret staying.” He squeezed her hands between his. “I promise you this: I am not going anywhere, no matter what you find out or when. I don’t love you because of the image you project to everyone else. To the world, you’re beautiful and unflappable, and I admit that those things first attracted me to you. But I love the Sylvie inside you, the woman who’s so tender she needs that brave front. In many ways you have more courage than anyone I know—but for one defect that is making life miserable for us both.”
“I know—that’s why I can’t ask you to live with it.”
He smiled gently. “That defect is not in a gene. It’s your absolute unwillingness to believe that I really see who you are…and still love you. Your stubborn insistence that only the Sylvie with perfect makeup and hair who doesn’t need anyone is the lovable woman.”
He stood up and drew her with him. “The Sylvie who keeps me around is the woman who has learned to relax with me and put on blue jeans instead of ballgowns, who will let me past the Vogue-model, bulletproof exterior and will cry in my arms. Who sometimes trusts me to believe in all the Sylvies…and love every one of them. You’ll have more wrinkles, love. Your body will sag. So will mine. But the fierce spirit inside you, the queen who would secretly like to be a hoyden…she’s the one I want to grow old with. Maybe one of these days they’ll have a reliable test. It won’t change my mind. I want to marry you and take care of you for the rest of my life.”
Sylvie collapsed against him, unable to see through her tears. “I’m afraid of how much I want that,” she whispered against his chest.
Gabe’s arms tightened around her. “Please. Trust me to know what I can bear. I’m not leaving.”
She couldn’t speak for her tears. She leaned into him, sliding her arms tightly around his waist and squeezing, holding on for dear life. “Take me home, Gabe. I need you. I wish I didn’t.”
Turning toward his car, Gabe wrapped one arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side and kissing the top of her head. “I know, sweetheart.” He drew her closer still. “I know.”
* * *
The next meeting convened in Sylvie’s immaculate apartment. Ava smiled, seeing Gabe’s reading glasses on the armchair table beside her. At least someone’s life was going right. She glanced up to thank her hostess for the chardonnay, but saw the dark circles beneath her eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
She was shocked to see Sylvie’s eyes fill with tears. “Margo’s dying.”
“Oh, Sylvie. Why didn’t you say something? We didn’t have to meet here. Do you need to be with her?”
“It wouldn’t matter. Gabe promised to check in on her tonight. He wanted me to take a break. She doesn’t know it’s me, anyway.”
“But you know.” Ava rubbed one hand up and down her friend’s arm, squeezing lightly. “What can I do?”
“Nothing, really. Help me get through tonight.”
“Do you want me to call the others and cancel? You know everyone would understand.”
“It’s not—we don’t know when it will happen. It could be days, could be weeks. All we know is that the doctors say she’s failing. Finally, that resilient body is giving up.” Sylvie’s shoulders sagged. “I’ve prayed for her to be released for so long, but now that it’s near, I—” She swallowed hard. “I just can’t bear to think th
at my second chance will never come now. That I’ll never, ever get her back.”
Ava’s own throat tickled with tears. She drew Sylvie against her, rubbing her back. It was a signal of her prickly friend’s state of mind that she would allow it. “It’s the most cruel disease of all.”
Sylvie cast her a look of despair. “Gabe won’t go, Ava. I don’t want him to live through this.”
“Why would he go? He loves you.”
“But I could wind up just like her.”
“Do you know that for sure?”
Sylvie looked abashed. “No.”
“Isn’t there a test?”
Her friend stiffened and stepped away. “There is, but it’s not reliable for someone without symptoms.”
“It’s natural to be afraid. What does Gabe say?”
“He says it doesn’t matter because he’s not leaving.”
Ava silently watched her struggle.
“I—I’ve never been so afraid of anything in my life,” she whispered.
“I would be, too,” Ava answered honestly. “It’s a terrifying prospect.”
“It’s Gabe I’m worried for. He’ll take the brunt of it. I want him to leave now, before he’s trapped.”
Ava chuckled. Sylvie frowned. “I’m sorry, Syl. It’s not funny, but you are. I thought you were the least fanciful person I knew, but you should be a writer. You’ve already spun out this scenario all the way to the end, and you haven’t even taken the first step. You’re worse than I am. Tom often says that my imagination is my worst enemy when it comes to dealing with real life.”
Sylvie worried at her lower lip. “But this could really happen. The chances are high.”
Ava sighed, reaching for her friend. “And if it does, you’ll deal with it. Just like the rest of us will.”
“What?”
“You think we’ll desert you when you need us? What kind of friend would do that?” She shook her head in amazement. “This is what the whole thing was about that separated you and Gabe, wasn’t it? You were trying to spare him.”
Sylvie’s chin jutted. “It’s the right thing to do.”
The Book Babes Boxed Set (Texas Ties/Texas Troubles/Texas Together) Page 23
