On Mother's Day (Great Expectations #1)

by Andrea Edwards

  “Well, take it easy,” she said quietly. “It won’t be too much longer till you’re back playing soccer—at your level, not mine.”

  Kate hung up, but Fiona couldn’t. Not for a long moment. She couldn’t break that fragile connection between her and her daughter. A connection that wasn’t even there anymore, she told herself. And with a sigh, she reached over and replaced the phone in the cradle.

  “Food’s here,” Alex called out as the door shut behind him. “Anybody hungry?”

  Fiona got to her feet. She felt like she’d just swum across the Atlantic and every step was an ordeal.

  “Hey, I got—” Alex stopped and frowned. “What’s the matter?”

  Fiona tried to smile at him. “Kate called.” The smile drooped, but she fought to keep some semblance of it on her lips. “She was afraid she was going to start being me once she had the transplant.”

  The food and a couple of videos got tossed onto the end table as Alex took Fiona in his arms. “You okay?” he asked.

  She wanted to cry and weep and sob and kick and scream, but all she did was nod as she buried her face in his chest. His arms felt so good around her. They were walls that would hold her up, steel that would not let her fall into misery. He wouldn’t let her down. She could lean on him now, just for the moment, just until she caught her breath.

  “I should be there with her,” she told him. “I should be the one taking care of her. I should never have given her up.”

  “Fiona,” he said on a sigh, his breath ruffling her hair. “You are taking care of her.”

  She pulled away from him slightly, away from his strength that was so addictive. “Not like I took care of Cassie and Sam when we were little. Not like a mother takes care of her child.” A sob shook her, echoing through her heart. “I was so selfish, just thinking how hard it would be to raise her. But if I’d kept her, I’d be there at her side. I’d be there to-”

  He gripped her shoulders, forcing her to look at him with the sheer determination of his gaze. “No. If you’d kept her, neither of you would be there,” he said. “Giving her up years ago is probably the only thing that’s giving her a chance now.”

  “What?” What was he talking about?

  He loosened his hold on her, but his gaze wouldn’t release her. “Assuming that you could have finished college while raising her and would be teaching where you are now, would your insurance have covered the transplant?”

  “Would it have…” Her voice trailed off into uncertainty, into oblivion. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  He just shook his head. “Probably not. A lot of insurance plans don’t. But the Andrewses don’t have to worry about it. They have enough money to pay for the transplant themselves if they have to.”

  She just stared at him. “So giving her up saved her?”

  “In a way,” he said. “Of course, you didn’t know what would happen back then. But it looks like it turned out for the best for her.”

  Fiona nodded slowly. “And that’s all that counts.”

  “It’s what counts most,” he corrected, his voice gentle. “Your feelings matter, but—”

  “But better I hurt than Kate dies,” she finished.

  She lay back in his arms, feeling too weary to move, too weary to find the strength to stand alone. It was only for now, only for this moment of weakness; not a habit that would cripple her. She had to regroup. She had to settle her churning emotions and reaccept the fact that giving up Kate had been for the best.

  She sighed, letting go of all the hurts and pains and fears that had been bottled up inside her. No more secondguessing. No more wanting to turn back the hands of time. It was right the way it was, with hope on Kate’s side and the pain only here on her own side. She could handle it. She had in the past, and would again once her heart was strong again. Speaking of which, maybe it was time to test it.

  She pulled away slightly, but foolishly looked up into Alex’s eyes as she did and stopped. The tenderness in his gaze undid her. Her carefully constructed armor fell away and all she could do was watch him. Stare as his lips came down slowly to meet hers.

  His touch was as gentle as the touch of the dew on the grass in the morning. As sweet as the scent of apple blossoms on a spring breeze. And as healing as time.

  She gave herself up fully to the ministrations of his lips and let the healing warmth flow over her, wrapping her in a soothing cloak. For a moment, she was not alone in all this; there was another heart standing next to hers, another hand to cling to.

  They pulled apart slowly. Fiona smiled up into Alex’s eyes. They were cloudy and confused, as if he was just waking from a deep sleep.

  “I guess I was taking care of Kate all along,” she said. “I just didn’t know it.”

  “Princess Fiona to the end.”

  How well he knew her. “I’d like to give her that book I bought of Irish folk tales. Do you think her parents would mind?”

  His smile said he would, in turn, watch over her. “I’ll take care of it.”

  She had never felt so sheltered, so secure. Even in the midst of all her fears, she felt whole.

  And the feeling lasted over the next few days. She and Alex took the book over to the hospital, leaving it with Mrs. Andrews, who was pale with tension but polite and grateful, nonetheless. Then Alex took Fiona down to the Chicago River for a cruise along the lakefront.

  “Thought we’d do something more relaxing today,” he said. “Don’t want to wear you out with all that hiking around museums.”

  “This is great.” And it was. Since it was early in the sightseeing season, the upper deck of the boat was almost deserted. They were alone with the spring breezes and the gentle sun, holding promises of the summer to come.

  “Sure you’re warm enough?”

  They were standing at the rail, watching the dock recede. Under one bridge, then another. She felt as if she could toss her worries into the wake of the boat and they would be washed away for the time being. It was a good feeling.

  “I’m fine,” she assured him as she gazed up at the buildings towering over them. “It’s beautiful out.”

  “It’ll get colder once we’re out on the lake.”

  “I’ll worry about it then.”

  “Sure. And then when you’re freezing, you’ll want my coat,” he grumbled in a mocking tone.

  She turned away from the city, letting it grow distant on its own, as she smiled at Alex. “And would you give it?” she asked.

  He just made a face, then turned back to watching the city. “That white building there is Tribune Tower and that one across from it is the IBM Building.”

  Fiona laughed and slipped her arm through his, leaning close to him. “You’re not such a tough guy, are you?” she teased.

  He frowned at her. “You keep trying to ruin my reputation.”

  She just laughed again and felt even more of her fears flow away. He was turning out to be a good friend, now that she had her silly emotions under control. It was just a matter of getting focused, and she was, now. She could enjoy Alex’s company for what it was, without complicating it with her silly dreams.

  Of course, there were a few shaky moments over the next several days, when her resolve weakened. One evening she was particularly tired and when he put his hand on the small of her back as they were led to a table in a restaurant, she felt a wave of desire wash over her. She wanted to feel his hands really on her, feel his lips take hers in hunger and need. She wanted to belong to someone totally, to have that lonely shadow gone from her heart forever. Luckily, the maître d’ was reciting the evening’s special to Alex and she was able to gulp down some water and take a few deep breaths.

  The next morning at breakfast, she bumped the table and the carton of orange juice tottered near the edge. They both jumped for it, but somehow missed the juice and found each other. Their hands slowly slid around each other’s, their eyes locked in an unbreakable bond.

  Fiona’s mouth went dry, as if his gaze
was stealing all the fear from her. As if the flames flickering in her soul had turned her into a desert, with him as her rain. He leaned closer, bringing his lips down to meet hers in a slow dance of exquisite tenderness. Their lips touched and sang a sweet song of love and passion and “forever,” then pulled apart as if scorched by the power in their hearts.

  They touched again, harder and rougher this time, and the song became more strident. It was of winds and rain, of storms toppling barriers and washing away hiding places. Her fears were revealed and washed clean, melting down into a torrent of need. She was exposed and vulnerable; there was no escape from the barrage of emotions Alex’s touch awakened. And no escape was wanted.

  Then, suddenly, the storm seemed to fade and sanity peeked through the clouds. They pulled apart. Alex was breathing as heavily as she was, although she darted only a quick glance in his direction.

  “I think we blew that,” he said, his voice anything but steady.

  Fiona forced a calm into her soul and looked at him. “We what?”

  He nodded toward the floor. And to the puddle of orange juice there. “We didn’t catch it.”

  “No.” She just stared at it like it was a work of art, her sluggish brain trying to kickstart itself. Or maybe just kick itself. “I’ll get some paper towels.”

  “I’ll get a sponge.”

  Somehow they cleaned up the mess without touching, although it must have looked like they were magnetic fields, each repelling the other. But the worst slip came after Kate called again to thank Fiona for the book.

  “Did you know there’s a story in here about a Fiona?” Kate asked, her voice bouncing with excitement.

  “Yep. My mother told it to me when I was little. I always thought I was named after her.”

  “Wow, that’s cool. Do you have little brothers, too?”

  “No, two younger sisters. They aren’t too little anymore, though.”

  “No, I guess not.” Kate paused. “The doc says things are going good. We should be able to do the BMT in a couple of days.”

  “Great.”

  “Yeah, I’m getting tired of everything here. Especially the food. You’d think they were trying to kill us all instead of get us better.”

  “Make your mom and dad take you out for a great pizza when you get out.”

  “I will.” Another pause. “Well, I gotta go. Mom and Dad just got back from dinner and I’m going to beat them at Tripoly again. See ya.”

  “Right. See ya.” Fiona’s last words echoed back at her, though. Would she see Kate again? Not likely.

  “How’s she doing?” Alex asked.

  Fiona shrugged. “Sounds real chipper. If energy counts for anything, she should be home free.”

  Alex was there to brush the fears from her heart as he brushed the curls from her cheek. “Hey, if love and genes mean anything, she’s home free.”

  “Yeah.” She found a smile from some forgotten corner of her heart and brought it out. “She’s got a lot going for her.”

  Apparently she wasn’t beaming as brightly as she’d thought. Alex’s eyes studied her for a long moment. “But…” he said, waiting for her to finish.

  She looked away. Why did she feel the need to open herself up to this man? Was she starting to care for him or was he a safe confidant who would be disappearing from her life in a few days?

  “But after the transplant I won’t get to see her again.”

  He said nothing, but just wrapped his arms around her. His embrace became a haven of safety, a refuge from the battering of the world. She wished she could just stay there forever. She wished she could just let reality become a distant memory.

  She closed her eyes and buried her face into Alex’s chest, realizing how her fears had grown in the last few days. No longer was she just worried about Kate and how to tell her family about her, but now suddenly she was afraid of losing Alex. Afraid of the time in the next few days when he would walk out of her life forever.

  How had she let herself become so dependent on him? What had happened to that great strength that she used to boast about?

  She pulled away from his embrace, away from the heaven his arms were to her. It was only a few more days. She just had to stay strong. She had to stay out of his arms.

  Chapter Seven

  Fiona was outside the apartment. Crowds of people were pushing past her but her feet weren’t moving. She was waiting for someone and she had to stay here. If she left, they would never come. More and more people pushed past her. More and more time passed. A fear began to grow in her heart. Maybe she was in the wrong place. Maybe she’d missed her chance.

  She began to race through the crowds, bumping and pushing as she fought her way, like swimming against the current. Then suddenly she was in a hospital nursery. All the babies were lined up in cribs, sleeping so peacefully. Fiona tiptoed among them, searching for soft brown curls, for a crooked little smile and a laughing voice. For eyes that would light up only when she came into the room.

  But she was gone. Her child. Her baby. Her precious bundle of life.

  “She can’t be!” Fiona cried.

  You’re too late. Too late. Too late.

  “No!” Fiona cried and sat up in bed, her hands over her ears. The words were echoing around her, taunting her. “No,” she said on a breath. “No.”

  “Fiona?” Alex was at the door, with light spilling in from the hallway, silhouetting his broad shoulders, his strong arms that would hold her if she gave the slightest hint. “You all right?”

  “Yeah.” She took a deep breath and leaned back against the headboard. “Just a dream.”

  “Not a very pleasant one, I gather.”

  “No.” If she made a move, he would come over. He would sit on the side of her bed and hold her. But it wouldn’t stop with holding. Not now, not tonight. Everything was coming to a close. “I was looking for Kate, but I was too late.”

  “Too late for what?”

  “To see her. She was gone. They’d taken her away from me.”

  She wanted the light on, wanted to fight back those demons that came in the night. Fear. Worry. Guilt. They sat off on the edges of her feelings, like hungry hyenas on the edges of the campfire’s glow. But if the light was on, it would mean she wasn’t going back to sleep. That she wanted—needed—company.

  “You want a glass of wine or something?” he asked. “Might help you relax.”

  Fiona just laughed, trying for lightheartedness. “I think I was too relaxed,” she said. “If I was tense, I’d never have fallen asleep.”

  “Maybe.” He leaned against the doorframe, but his voice came in to surround her, to embrace with his caring.

  She took a deep breath and wiggled her toes under the covers. “I’m like an alcoholic who hasn’t had a drink for ten years. One slip, one sight of her, and I have this irresistible urge for more.”

  “Understandable.”

  “But not possible.” She leaned her head back and stared at the spray of light across the ceiling. And how it made everything bright in the middle of the room, but the corners—where Fiona lived—were still dark and shadowed. “In a few days, I’ll be out of her life again. It’s going to be hard.”

  “I’m sure the Andrewses will let you know how things are with her.”

  “Maybe. I hope so.”

  “If not, I can keep an eye on things for you.”

  She laughed. “Mr. Honesty snooping around? Doesn’t that sound wrong?”

  “What’s dishonest about it? Who am I misleading? There’re certain rights we all have. Kate had the right to know if you could save her life. You have the right to know if that help was enough.”

  “You make it all sound so simple.”

  “It usually is,” he said.

  Was it? She gazed at him again, and suddenly saw him for the first time. “You have a robe on,” she said. “I thought you didn’t have one.”

  “Ever hear of a store?”

  “Yeah, but you said—”

&nbs
p; “One was needed and so one was acquired.”

  “But what a waste if you’re never going to use it again.”

  He laughed then—a deep rich sound that pierced her armor and drew a slow, languid longing from her. “Who’s to say I won’t use it again? What about when you come to visit me?”

  Early the next morning, Alex paused at Fiona’s bedroom door for a long moment. No sound came from within. She must still be sleeping. That was good. She needed it. He’d heard her tossing and turning for hours last night after she’d awoken from her dream. It was probably just as well she chose that back bedroom. There was less sun in the morning.

  After leaving a note on the kitchen table saying he’d be back soon, he slipped out of the apartment. The day was another gem—even though it was cloudy and threatening rain. There was such a promise of spring in the air, such a feeling of energy and possibilities. He couldn’t remember another spring when they’d had a ten-day stretch of such great weather. It probably was going to be awful once Fiona left.

  He frowned as he waited for the light to change. Fiona’s presence had nothing to do with the weather. It wasn’t like she could work magic or anything. And it wasn’t like his perception of the weather changed when she was with him. That was all nonsense. Next thing he knew, he’d start thinking that the weariness that was starting to dog him was because she was going back home in a day or two.

  The idea was so preposterous, so unbelievable, so insulting to his professional sense, that he couldn’t stand still any longer. A lull in the traffic gave him the chance to dart across the street and that gave a few idiot drivers the chance to test their horns. Impatient jerks.

  He hurried into the hospital and toward the bank of elevators at the back. It was still early, but that didn’t mean the place wasn’t already teeming with people. Not with visitors, but with hospital personnel—kitchen workers with carts of breakfast trays, cleaning crews finishing their rounds and aides wheeling patients off to who knew where. Hopefully it wasn’t too early for the doctors to be arriving.