by Angela Drake
Without even realizing she’d held it, Stephanie let out a shaky breath. Matthew! He’d found out about Matthew’s death.
“Here’s your tea, Mr. Keane.” Neither heard Kimberly enter the room. “I brought you one too, Mom.”
“Thank you, Kimberly, but my friends call me Brendan.” He winked as he took the glass.
“Really! Wow! I mean, I can? Cool! Mom, can I go over to Becky’s? Please.” She pleaded, never taking her eyes from Brendan. “This is like too outrageous news for the phone.”
Stephanie smiled over the rim of the glass at her daughter’s adolescent exuberance. His special magic worked on women of any age.
“Go ahead. Be back in time for supper. We have a club meeting and your job is to watch Max, remember?”
“I know, I will. Thanks, Mom, bye...Brendan.” And she was out the door.
Brendan laughed before saying, “That’s some girl, Steph.”
“Yes, she is.” Stephanie stood, walked over to the sofa, and sat down. “She and Max are the light of my life. I don’t know how I’d have gotten through Matthew’s death or since without them.” She rolled the tall, cool glass back and forth between her palms.
At first, her daughter had been devastated at losing her father, but once the reality of being a big sister set in, living became easier.
A visit to Doc Brady confirmed what Stephanie had suspected a few weeks following the funeral. She carried a lasting part of Matthew, but the stress of losing her husband had nearly taken it away. Doc suggested she needed some time to come to terms with everything and let the baby settle in. Otherwise, he’d warned, she’d be in for a very rough time. Having known the fatherly man seemingly forever, it came as no surprise when he’d dropped the keys to his cabin in Arkansas on the desk in front of her.
After a week at Beaver Lake, Stephanie knew this was where the three of them needed to start over. The atmosphere soothed her wounded soul and the Ozark countryside emulated heaven on earth.
“Tell me what happened.”
She was aware of Brendan sitting next to her as she stared into her glass as if it were a crystal ball. But there wasn’t anything there that would give her words and strength to say them. Taking a drink of the tea, she sat the glass on the table. Rising, she pressed her cream linen trouser legs smooth before sliding her hands into the pockets. Trance like, she walked to the window.
The late September sun streamed through the pane, warming her face. It replaced some, but not all, of the chill that seeped into her soul whenever she recalled the night she’d gotten the news.
After having relived the nightmare repeatedly in her mind the past three years, it never seemed to hurt any less. Stephanie steeled herself against the anguish she knew would come with the telling.
“Matthew loved being a cop just like his father. And his uncle had been head of the department for years. I wasn’t crazy about his job, what wife would be? As a wife, though, it’s a lesson I learned early. Being a cop wasn’t a job; it’s who he was.” Stephanie drew a ragged breath as she continued.
“The love and caring he brought to the people on his beat was part of what I fell in love with. There wasn’t a person on his patrol that he didn’t know. I guess that’s why I fooled myself into thinking he’d always be safe.” A sob escaped past the armor. “Everyone liked him.”
“So what went wrong?”
She was aware of his presence before he settled his hands on her shoulders. She steeled herself against the warmth and security those hands had given her once. She took a cleansing breath then continued.
“We’d been on vacation all week. The three of us had just gotten back from his folks’ cabin up by Lake Freeman. We went up there every year. We’d barely unpacked the car when the station called needing him to fill in on a south end patrol. I couldn’t understand why he’d work a rough beat if he didn’t have to. He was still on vacation and wasn’t required to go in.”
Brendan’s thumbs began a slow pressure at the base of her neck. The sensations that rippled through her gave her the strength to continue.
“Apparently an officer covered for Matthew one night so he could attend Kimberly’s final dance recital of the season. He missed a lot of the evening activities because he always seemed to be on night patrol when special events came around. He hadn’t wanted to miss this one. He had a chance to return the favor and took it. That was Matthew.”
She leaned back against the strength of Brendan’s chest and closed her eyes.
“He hadn’t even been on a call.” She didn’t try to stop the flow of tears. Instead, she wrapped her arms tightly around her waist as if protecting the life he had left behind.
“It was around midnight and he was doing door checks. Coming around a corner, he surprised a sixteen year old kid crawling out of a liquor store window.”
Reality struck with the force of lightning in that instant. The air crackled with the sudden stillness, quiet before the storm. She pushed away from Brendan, whirling on him as tears streamed down her face. She stared at him, trembling. Her fists clenched so tight she felt her nails bite into the palms of her hands.
“Why Brendan?” She cried. “What is it about alcohol that is so intriguing? Why is it so important that it has to cost a person everything? My kids don’t have a father because some punk thought it was cool.” She swiped at the tears… angry tears. “And it cost ‘us’.”
Alcohol had taken the two most important men in her life. The beer Brendan wouldn’t give up is what she’d based her decisions on all those years ago. And it was the booze that took Matthew’s life, depriving Kimberly and Max of their father. Her father had been another casualty. She’d never seen the attraction.
With arms of steel, tempered with love, he gathered her close, holding her while she cried. She didn’t fight him. Being held while she let the pain flow felt right. She hadn’t had anyone to hold her when Matthew died.
As the storm within her gradually subsided the sobs became less intense until, in exhaustion, her arms slid around his waist and the tears became nothing more than an occasional hiccup. With one arm still holding her, he stroked her hair with the other hand. All the while whispering consoling words she barely heard.
After several minutes, she raised her tear-streaked face to his. Without hesitation he bent his head, brushing his lips to hers briefly before claiming them fully. In all their time together she couldn’t remember this tenderness from him. She knew that Brendan. This man was someone she wished he’d been then.
He broke the kiss first, but continued to watch her. Taking her by the hand, he led her to the desk chair. As if dealing with a child he took a tissue from the box and kneeling before her, began wiping away the tears.
“You can’t let it destroy you, angel. I learned the hard way that life goes on. But you have to help. You can’t do that by burying yourself in work and the kids. They need you, yes. But you need you.”
She listened to his words and knew he was right but she didn’t know how. Kimmie and Max had been the foundation of her salvation. Needing to provide for them. They were her world.
“You have to allow yourself time to heal and grow. You’re like a tree, Stephanie. You’re the roots of this family. If you allow yourself to wither, all the leaves that depend on you for nourishment will fall. But you will have died first. Think about it.” Brendan reached up and touched her cheek with the back of his fingers.
“I lived those demons, too, Steph. They stole parts of me that I can never have back. I’m learning to deal with that and I can help you do the same. I’m a call away if you need me.” He brushed a kiss to her forehead, turned and left.
* * *
Stephanie wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting in the same chair he’d led her to. Following his calm and silent exit, she had broken into another wave of tears. How could he tell her life went on? He didn't know the gut-wrenching anguish she’d felt the night the Captain had come knocking on her door with the news of her husband’s death
.
There’d been no time to stand beside a hospital bed in a dismal intensive care unit and hold his hand. No chance to whisper words of hope and encouragement to a man she’d sworn to spend the rest of her life with. There’d been no hospital bed at all. Instead, she’d seen him for the first time just hours before the chapel had been flooded with people offering condolences.
“Stephanie, my God! Are you all right?” Jennifer dropped her briefcase in the doorway and hurried to kneel in front of her.
She failed to hear the tingling of the bell above the front door to know anyone had come in until Jennifer spoke. Stephanie raised her head to meet her friend’s worried gaze. If how she felt was any indication, Steph was sure she looked a fright. Hurriedly wiping at the remains of tears, she attempted a reassuring smile before answering.
“I’m okay Jen. Just a little healing in progress.” She reached for a tissue, her sights resting on the invitation list as she did so. Jennifer followed her gaze and reached for the paper.
“Dad’s been here. Steph, what is going on? This is the second time in three days I've found you in tears because of Dad. It is because of him, isn’t it?” She stood and tossed the paper back onto the desk.
Stephanie closed her eyes, leaning her head against the back of the chair, massaging her temples as she did so.
“It’s not ‘because’ of him, Jen.” It wasn’t. She’d also realized since his visit that it was how she still felt about him that sent her into tears.
That day in the apartment all those years ago, she hadn’t told him it was over because she didn’t love him but more because she did.
She had met Matthew at a local café where she had picked up a second job in hopes of earning enough money to buy a car. He and his partner came in almost daily for lunch. She learned early that not all police officers ate donuts and drank coffee. Matthew preferred their house salad topped with slices of grilled chicken and drank iced tea or water with his meal. She chatted with him as she did all of her customers but found herself hanging out at his end of the counter each time he came in. She smiled remembering he had taken almost a month to get enough courage to ask her out. She had been hesitant at first but was slowly realizing Brendan was not going to change.
She ended their third date in tears after finding out she was pregnant. In the front seat of his truck, Matthew had gathered her in his arms, assuring her everything would be okay. A calmness like she had never experienced washed over her and she believed what he said to be true. The next day he had shown up at the café with a dozen yellow roses and proposed in front of everyone. She couldn’t say no nor did she want to. Someone loved her, and wanted to love the life she carried. Her ‘yes’ had been a fresh start.
She had loved Matthew almost from the beginning. As their relationship grew, she understood the difference in what she felt for Brendan and what she shared with her husband. Though a part of her had always wondered ‘what if’, she had never regretted her time with Matthew. He had been a superb dad to Kimberly and would have loved Max equally.
As if through telepathy, they heard her youngest chattering in his room through the monitor. She sighed in exhaustion and in relief at not having to answer Jennifer’s question.
“You stay put, I’ll get him. Then I’ll make us some herbal tea. You look as if you could use a cup.”
After Jennifer left the room, Stephanie walked over to where the tea glasses still sat, barely touched and carried them out to the kitchen. She couldn’t ‘just sit’ as Jennifer instructed. If she didn’t continue to move, she feared crumbling again. There wasn’t time for that. In some aspects, he was right - life did go on.
Rinsing the glasses out and placing them in the dishwasher was a mindless task yet it took everything she could muster not to drop one. Why did the most important element of the fundraiser have to be ‘her Brendan’? This was her haven - a sanctuary to raise her children. But who was going to protect her from the devilish enigma that was Brendan Keane?
Stephanie drummed her short nails on the counter edge as she recalled how good he looked. She still felt the intake of breath and the quickening beat of her heart when she looked into those twinkling eyes. It had taken every ounce of strength earlier not to run her fingers through the short layers of hair above and behind his ears. She remembered that softness every time her fingers touched the black rabbit in Max’s touch and feel book. He’d always been particular about his appearance to the point of being almost vain. ‘He had a reputation to uphold,’ he’d proclaimed back then.
Well, now he had a reputation of a different kind. He still had to present the illusion of being the ladies man. That’s what sold albums and concert tickets. But he wasn’t cocky about it now. She wondered if the playboy image had gone down the drain with his last can of beer.
The teakettle whistled, Jennifer came into the kitchen chattering with Max, and Kimberly slammed the front screen. The tidal wave of sounds crashed against her strained nerves. She jumped, dropping the cup she’d just taken from the cupboard, sending shards of china across the kitchen tile.
“Wow Mom! Are you okay?” Kimberly asked, stopping abruptly in the kitchen doorway.
Stephanie struggled to keep the tears in check, biting the inside of her lower lip, tasting the saltiness of blood.
“Your mom’s just had a hard day, Kim.” Jennifer stood Max down onto the floor. “There’s a new Disney movie in my briefcase for you guys. Why don’t you take your brother into the office while I help your mom clean up?”
“Sure Jennifer. Come on Squirt. Let’s go watch a movie.” Kimberly led him down the hall.
Stephanie collapsed into a chair, burying her face in her hands. There were no tears, just an attempt at bringing some peace to her shredded soul. She was aware of her friend sweeping up remains of the china cup and taking another from the cabinet. Only after Jennifer placed a steaming cup of tea before her, did Stephanie look up?
“Want to tell me what’s going on?” Jennifer spooned honey into her tea before handing the earthenware crock across to Steph.
“Oh Jennifer, I don’t even know where to start.”
“How about with why every time my dad comes around, I find you in tears.
She attempted a weak smile. “I’m sure you know by now that your dad and I didn’t just meet at the gala.”
“He told me that you two had some fun together in the old days and that you sent him packing after you met Matthew.”
She sat silently for a moment, watching Jennifer. There was a hint of bitterness in her voice. Steph could see the princess coming to her father’s defense. Taking a sip of the hot tea, she gently set the cup back onto the saucer before looking to Jennifer, her voice soft and even.
“I didn’t “send him packing’ really. At the time he was the center of my universe. But a can of beer was the center of his. After almost three years, I couldn’t deal with that any longer. For as much as I loved him, I hated what he was refusing to see.”
“What was that?”
“That he loved me. There were things I wanted that your dad wasn’t ready to provide. Matthew was. We shared the same goals in life and I truly loved him”
“So what about dad, didn’t you love him?”
“Did I ever. I’d have given almost anything to spend my life with him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t ready to spend his with any one person. Alcohol had been a part of his life for so long that I didn’t see a future for us regardless of how much I loved him.”
“But he did quit drinking. “He hasn’t touched a drop in nearly twelve years.”
“I know. Giving up the booze was a tough decision. I was so proud of him when your grandpa told me.” Steph smiled fondly at the thought of Brendan’s dad.
“You know Pop?”
“When your dad and I broke up I didn’t leave the family.” She took another drink of her tea then continued. “Your Aunt Kris and I stayed in contact as did your grandparents. I think your grandpa always hoped we’d work things out. Did
you know he’s the one who gave me away when I got married?”
“He did! Why? Where was your dad?”
“Buried in a bottle. He didn’t even come to the wedding. I’m not sure if he even realized it was my wedding day. When dad got to drinking, I stayed away.”
“Stephanie, I’m so sorry.” Jennifer reached across the pine tabletop to touch her friend’s hand. “Did Dad come to the wedding?”
She shook her head. “I sent him an invitation. I know it might seem tacky, but I really wanted him there as a friend. I didn’t have a lot of those back then.” Stephanie stood and took her cup and saucer to the dishwasher.
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew Dad?”
“A lot of reasons. Partly, I guess, because of who your dad is. I didn’t want you to think I’m some kind of a groupie or something.” Stephanie smiled, attempting to lighten the mood.
“Do you love my dad now?”
The question came as a whisper. Stephanie stilled. The answer she wanted to give scared her to death. Her friendship with this woman was important. She couldn’t lie to her. Quietly, she shut the dishwasher and faced Jennifer, hands in her pockets.
“I don’t think I ever stopped. There’s a part of me that will always belong to him, just as there’s a part that’s reserved for Matthew.”
“Mom, the movie’s over.”
“Heavens!” Stephanie looked at the clock on the microwave. “The Art Club will be here in less than an hour and I haven’t done a thing. Why don’t we get the dining room set up? After everyone’s here, we’ll order out for pizza.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Jennifer got up and came around the table to hug Steph.
“I’m going to tell you the same thing I told Dad.” She stepped back, looking Stephanie in the eyes. “I love you both and I'm not getting in the middle. Just so you know I’m here if you need anything.”
“That means a lot Jen. I never thought I’d have to confront all these feelings again. After today, I think I’m better prepared.” She smiled at Jennifer. So much like the little girl she’d first met all those years ago and yet so mature. “You are a lot like him, you know.” She took hold of Jennifer’s hands. “You have grown into an incredible young woman and I’m glad to call you my friend.”
