His Touch

by Patty Blount

  Reid didn’t say a word. Okay, sure, he talked to Kyle and often heard Kyle talk back, but that was…well, it was just taking comfort wherever and however you can in this world, and he wasn’t about to apologize for it.

  Reid watched a couple make a pencil rubbing of a name on the plaque that surrounded the pool. Their faces were tight and drawn. It had been over a decade and their pain was as raw, as chronic, as his own. But his was worse. His was worse because he’d been able to go on living after losing his brother. He fell in love, got married, made a baby.

  And lost her, too.

  Whoever said time heals all wounds didn’t know shit about grief.

  He started the walk back to his apartment alone.

  *

  Reid nursed a beer in his dark apartment, listening to the Lees arguing in Chinese in the apartment below his, and absently rubbing at the ache in his chest that just wouldn’t go away. Since he’d gotten home, something was off—not quite right. He couldn’t figure it out. He was edgy. Raw.

  Like an exposed nerve ending.

  He’d considered getting good and drunk and zoning out until it passed, but he was on tour tomorrow. Restless, he prowled the two rooms of his apartment. He flipped through TV channels, thumbed through magazines, checked his email, even thought about going for a muscle-burning run, but nothing appealed. Nothing held interest.

  Except his phone.

  He kept staring at it, willing it to ring while praying it wouldn’t. He’d checked it a dozen—a hundred times—but there were no messages from Kara. He could call Dr. Tully himself, he supposed. Not that it would do any good. He knew the damn speech about confidentiality. He wasn’t family. He wasn’t entitled to any information about Nadia Larsen’s condition and the kick of it all was that he could have been. The ache in his chest powered up a notch as he thought about how enormously he’d screwed everything up. The more he thought about Nadia and Kara, the more intense that edgy and raw sensation grew.

  Damn it, he knew better. He knew better than to let his emotions out. Since the end of his marriage, he’d taken every step necessary to make sure the women he let into his world held no interest for him beyond a few laughs and maybe a little fun in bed. And then he’d met Kara and fallen so hard so fast, he never noticed the trip until he’d face-planted with a bone-jarring crash.

  Could he do it again? Could he be a husband again—a father? He didn’t damn well know and that’s why he was sitting in a dark room, pouring beer into his sour stomach, and listening to his neighbors screaming like extras in a movie. He sat for a long time, forgot about the beer, until he couldn’t take it another second. He got up, grabbed his keys. He had to get out of here, get out of his own head for a while. He was about to open the door when a muffled thump stopped him.

  He looked back, and on the floor beside the table where he’d tossed his keys, he spotted the book he’d found in the hospital that morning.

  The Velveteen Rabbit.

  He picked it up, stared at it for a long moment, that edgy raw feeling about to explode inside him. He rushed to his bedroom, pulled the box from the shelf high in his closet and pawed through the blanket, teddy bear, and photos until he found it. Erin’s copy of the same book.

  Before he could think twice about it, he’d grabbed his keys and headed out of the apartment. A subway and bus ride later, he was striding into Mount Saint Mary Cemetery only to skid to a stop.

  “Help you, sir?” An elderly man in groundskeeper greens frowned at him.

  Reid swallowed hard. “Yeah. My daughter. I don’t know which one’s hers.”

  The man nodded and indicated an office. “Follow me.”

  A few minutes later, he was in a golf cart, meandering around narrow paved lanes edged with acres of green grass and aisles of marble headstones. The cart rolled to a stop and the old man jerked his chin toward Reid’s right. “Your girl would be there, on the left.”

  Reid stopped breathing.

  “Sir?”

  “Oh. Yeah. Right.” He climbed out of the cart on legs like noodles and stepped onto the plush lawn. He didn’t remember this, didn’t remember the rows of headstones standing sentry-like, didn’t remember the bench under a tree at the end of the row. He forced himself to walk down that row and when he looked back, the cart and the old man were gone.

  He took a step and another step and there it was.

  His daughter’s grave.

  He fell to his knees and traced her name in the marble. Erin Isabelle Bennett. He brushed leaves off the figure of the angel carved into the top of the stone. With a gasp, he wrapped his arms around the stone, unable to stop the roaring in his head or the ache in his chest, and for the first time since he’d buried his daughter, he cried in great gulping sobs. “Erin, oh God, baby.”

  He sat there, cursing himself for letting his emotions escape their locks. Feelings were messy. Irritating. Uncontrollable. They swept through him like a goddamn tornado, leaving destruction in its wake. And pain.

  And finally, exhaustion.

  When he’d finally emptied all the tears he’d stored up, he sat on the grass and opened the book and read his daughter every printed word of it.

  *

  It was morning when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket and woke him up. He bolted upright, dropped the books still clutched in his hands, and swore he smelled baby powder and apple juice. He was on his couch with no memory of getting home. He sucked in a deep breath, shut his eyes, and saw that image again… the one of Erin sitting on a woman’s lap, reading a book together.

  “Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.”

  He clutched the book, holding that picture in his heart. He may not believe in signs the way Kara did, but they sure seemed to believe in him. He blew out a long slow breath and when he saw the clock, cursed out loud.

  He was an hour late for his tour.

  His phone vibrated again. “Yeah.” He snapped. His voice was thick and his throat felt like it had been sandblasted.

  “Jesus, Reid! Where the hell are you?”

  “Sorry, Gene. I’m sick. I’m goddamn sick.”

  “How sick? ’Cause the chief is ready to kill you.”

  “Great,” Reid groaned and stumbled to the bathroom, switched the phone to speaker. “Can you cover for me?” He ran the water, splashed his face, used the toilet.

  “Holy hell, Bennett. What happened?”

  “Told you. Sick.”

  “Are you…oh, man! Tell me you’re not hungover.”

  Reid snorted, winced when it hurt his entire face. “I wish.” He coughed, cleared his throat, blew his nose on a wad of toilet paper. “Look. Just tell the chief I’ve got some kind of sinus infection thing going on, okay?”

  “Yeah. Okay,” Gene agreed. “Now tell me what’s really going on.”

  “Not now, Gene.”

  “Reid, I—”

  Reid ended the call, shoved his phone in his pocket and staggered to his bedroom.

  *

  “Ma!”

  Kara peeled open an eye, saw her daughter jumping up and down in her crib, her honey-colored curls a mess. “Good morning, Milk Dud!” She crawled off the air mattress she’d set up on the floor of Nadia’s room after Dr. Tully had sent her home with no results because he’d been unable to reach the surgeon. She rescued Nadia from her crib, did a quick diaper change, and let Nadia discover the joy of bouncing on the air mattress. Her squeals of delight each time she flopped woke their guests.

  The door squeaked open. “Well, somebody sure woke up happy!”

  “Ayn uh!”

  “Oh my God, did you hear that? She said my name!” Elena applauded. “Lucas! Get in here!”

  A muffled curse from the bedroom was quickly followed by bare feet slapping the wood floor. “What? What happened? Is she okay?” Lucas wore nothing but pajama bottoms and Kara wiggled her eyebrows at her sister. Luke was a good-looking man.

  “She said my name.” Elena opened the safety gate Kara always kept across the bedroom d
oor and held out her arms to Nadia but the baby was having too much fun jumping on the bed.

  “Yeah? Watch this. What’s my name, Nadia?” Lucas pointed to himself.

  “Ook!”

  “Yay!” Everybody clapped and Nadia bounced on the air mattress again.

  But after a moment, their laughter felt forced. Kara avoided her sister’s eyes. She hadn’t wanted to get into why she’d never called Elena, but supposed it was inevitable.

  Elena cleared her throat. “So, um, thanks for letting us have the big bed.”

  Kara braced. Elena was stalling. “Oh, yeah, sure. No problem. The air mattress isn’t really good for two so…yeah.”

  Lucas looked at each sister and then headed for the other room. “I’m gonna grab a shower.” He bent, pressed a kiss to Elena’s head as he went by.

  Kara managed a tight-lipped grin when Luke left. “That’s a great guy you’ve got there.”

  “The best.” Elena agreed. “I wouldn’t have him if you hadn’t helped me.”

  Kara’s eyes widened. Okay, so she’d meddled a little and did what she could to push Elena and Lucas together—big deal. “I didn’t do anything, Laney. Just made it hard for you to leave, that’s all.”

  Elena reached over and squeezed Kara’s hand while Nadia scrambled off to her toy box. “Kara, did you get any sleep at all last night?”

  Kara sighed. “I did but I am wiped out, Laney. I feel… I am so bone-deep scared, I can’t feel anything. I know that sounds stupid—I just love her so much.”

  “It’s not stupid at all. She’s your daughter. I know you’re scared, we all are. But you love Reid, too. Don’t you?”

  Love. There was that word again. Twice now, Kara was sure she’d found it. And both times, she’d chosen poorly. She ignored her sister’s question. “Thanks for staying with me. You and Lucas both. Hey, aren’t you both late for work?”

  Elena shook her head. “We took personal days. We’re going to be here when Dr. Tully calls.”

  Kara shook her head. “No. No, I can’t let you do that.”

  “You’re not letting us do anything. We decided and that’s that.” Elena stood up, ripped the cap from the mattress and the air whooshed out. Nadia giggled at the sound. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

  Kara’s eyes swam but she didn’t cry. She wouldn’t. Not ever again. “Why do people always leave me, Laney?” The tears choked her, made her voice crack, but she refused to let them fall.

  “Because they’re dicks,” her sister pronounced decisively but Kara waved her hand.

  “No, no, not just Steve and Reid. Everybody, Laney. You left me. Mom left me.” And the tears burst from the dam she’d tried to erect. “Dad barely talks to me and the boys—well, you know they’re into their own things and probably think of me during the holiday season—if that much.”

  Elena scooted closer and wrapped her sister in her arms. “Kara, first of all, Reid told me you’re struggling with Nadia and we’re gonna talk about that but not right now. Second, you’re right. I did leave you, but I’m back and I’m right here. If you needed help, all you had to do was ask and I’d have been here in minutes. The only thing I can’t give you is Mom because she didn’t leave you, she was taken and that’s a big difference. But Kara, she’s still here.” Elena put a hand over her heart. “She’s still guiding us. You taught me that, remember?”

  Kara nodded and sniffled. Nadia heard the sound, her happy smile fading when she saw Mommy upset. “I waited for my signs, Laney. For years, I’ve been waiting for my signs and I thought it was Reid. I was so sure Mom sent me Reid.”

  “I think she sent him you.”

  Kara huffed out a laugh at that. “Yeah, because I’m such a prize.”

  Elena slapped her arm.

  “Ow!”

  “You are a prize and Reid will figure that out.”

  Kara shook her head. “No. He was clear from the beginning, Laney. He didn’t want serious. He didn’t want long-term.”

  “Kara, he’s in love with you.”

  Kara’s eyes snapped to her sister’s. “What?”

  Elena nodded. “The first day I met Lucas, remember what you said about The Look?”

  “Oh, Laney, I don’t—”

  “Yeah. You do.” Elena gripped her sister’s hand, gave it a squeeze. “And so does he.”

  Kara’s jaw dropped and she lifted her eyes.

  “Don’t give up hope, Kara.”

  Nadia tossed a toy out of her toy box. It was a pink terrycloth doll Aunt GiGi had given her when she was born. She pounced on it with a squeal and a rolling giggle that made Kara want to laugh and cry at once. Hope. Nadia’s name meant hope. That’s why she’d chosen it. Was it only a year and a half ago? Part of her felt like she’d had Nadia forever. And another part of her felt like forever could never be long enough.

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‡

  The hours ticked by like days. Elena fielded calls and texts from her honorary aunts, promising to call the second Kara heard from Dr. Tully. The buzzer sounded and Lucas answered.

  “Bree and Cass and the guys are here,” he reported.

  “I can’t believe you guys.” Kara said with a shake of her head. “I didn’t want you to know. Any of you. And now everyone’s taking time off work to hold my hand.”

  Elena’s eyes narrowed. “Well, of course we are. We’ve been there for each other since we were born, Kara. Through our periods and first kisses and crushes and bad breakups and…and loss.” Elena shut her eyes. “This is as serious as things get and you need us. Don’t shut us out.”

  Kara buried her face in her hands for a moment. Elena didn’t get it. Nobody did. Nadia was her daughter, her responsibility, her miracle. “I wanted to be a good mom, Laney. Like Mom was. Remember? She always knew…no matter what it was, she had that mom intuition thing going on and knew—often before we did—when something was bothering us. Bree is the same way. Look at Charlie! She’s amazing and Bree didn’t need help. She took care of her own child and went to school, began a career. I have a career, a good one, and I can’t keep up!” She flicked a hand over the apartment’s living room, where a basket of laundry awaited folding and a pile of mail sat unopened.

  “That is the biggest crock of shi—uh, poop I’ve ever heard.”

  Kara’s eyes snapped up, met Sabrina’s in the doorway.

  “Bree.”

  Bree and Cassandra stepped into Kara’s apartment, followed by the guys each had loved once, lost, and then found again. Kara’s heart gave a little twist when she thought of it. Jake Killen was little Charlie’s dad, but hadn’t known Bree was pregnant when he left her all those years ago to marry someone else. Now married to each other, the two were partners in every sense of the word. And Sean McKinnon, the Irish musician Cass had loved in college, was back in her life. The only one of their circle missing was Jade, but even she had reconnected with a childhood friend and was blissfully planning her wedding. Kara was the only one still alone.

  As if she’d read her mind, Cass crossed the room and took her hands. “You’re not alone in this, honey. Never that.”

  Kara looked at them all. Bree and Cassandra, the sisters of her heart. Elena, the sister in it. Behind them stood the three men who loved them. All wore identical expressions of worry until Nadia looked up and shrieked. “Reeeeee!” She all but tackled Bree with a hug and a loud kiss and then leaned out of her arms to tumble into Cassandra’s. When she was done kissing everybody, Nadia ran to her room and began pulling out toys, clearly intending for everyone to play with her because why else would they all be here?

  Tears burned Kara’s throat and she turned to Sabrina. “Bree, you—”

  “Sorry, Kara, but you’re wrong. I had tons of help. I lived with my parents, I had all of you and I had Aunt GiGi and Aunt Joane, too. I never would have been able to finish school without you guys. I couldn’t have given Charlie skating lessons and hockey clinics and trips to the city if I didn’t have all of you.”<
br />
  Jake took her hand and Kara could see the apologies form on his lips but Bree shook her head. “No, Jake. No more apologies. We’re past that now.” She gave his hand a squeeze and turned back to Kara. “The point is I did have help, Kara. From everybody including you. Don’t you remember that time I called you because I needed diapers but couldn’t leave the house?”

  Kara’s eyes went wide. “Yes! Charlie had diarrhea and went through an entire box.” She’d forgotten all about that. Sabrina had been beside herself so she’d taken the train to Long Island, carting two boxes of diapers, and stayed the weekend because Bree’s parents had gone upstate.

  Cass spoke up. “I’m right here in the city, Kara. I’d have been here in minutes. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  The hurt tone in her friend’s voice couldn’t be missed. Kara crossed the room to the laundry basket, started folding Nadia’s little outfits into a neat pile. Elena caught Bree’s eye and muttered a curse before pulling the basket out of her sister’s reach. “Okay, Kara. Spill it. Right now.”

  Lucas put up a warning hand, but Elena shrugged him off. Kara’s face crumbled. “You guys,” she cried, holding out a hand to Bree and Cass. “You all have your own happy endings now and you waited so long for them. And Laney. Honey, it took you years just to come home and now you have Luke and I can’t, I’m sorry, I just can’t be this neurotic mess who calls you all over here every time my baby says Boo.”

  “Boo!” Nadia exclaimed.

  Sean scooped her up into his arms while everybody laughed softly. “Oh, you’re a wee smart thing, ya are.” His nose wrinkled. “Oh, and a wee smelly thing, too.”

  Kara stood up, but Sean waved her off.

  “Sit down, Mama. I know how to change a nappy.” He carried Nadia to her room.

  “Okay, okay,” Cassandra raised both hands. “Now isn’t the time for this. Tell us about Steve’s condition and Nadia’s tests.”

  Kara drew in a deep breath for courage and told them all what she’d learned. “There is a murmur. I don’t know if that means she has this coarctation thing or not and I’m going to lose what’s left of my mind if this phone doesn’t ring.”