by Jill Kemerer
He looked suitably impressed. “So what happened?”
She shrugged, brushing a piece of lint from her jeans. “No matter how hard I trained, I wasn’t as fast as the top runners. I got injured my junior year of college. I’d had tendinitis and other problems off and on, but the stress fracture took a long time to heal. My college career was a disappointment. I did end up running in a few marathons after college.”
“Not anymore?”
“No.” Memories flitted to her. The feel of packed earth beneath her feet at all those high school races. Sweat dripping down her back as she pushed herself to stay conditioned on lonely roads during the summer. Lifting weights to get an edge. Being top ten in her district, but not good enough to take the state title. She missed those days.
“You don’t mind holding him?” She nodded at Parker, who had fallen asleep in Sam’s arms. What would it be like to have a man in her life, a husband to help raise Parker?
“Not at all. My niece Emily used to sleep on my lap, before...well, before I had the second surgery. The family doesn’t meet here for Tuesday dinners anymore. In fact, no one comes around as much. I didn’t want them to.”
“I get it. I pushed people away, too.” And some of them pushed me away.
The clock on the wall ticked as silence stretched.
“You never told me if your parents are taking Parker to the Christmas program practices.”
Celeste wrapped her arms around her waist. “I haven’t asked them.”
“Why not?” He sounded skeptical.
“It slipped my mind.” It hadn’t slipped her mind, but every time she considered calling Mom to ask, she balked. Something about the request reeked of desperation.
“Well, I should probably go back.” She rose. “Is there anything else you need before I leave?”
“Yes, actually.” Sam shifted in his seat, his face distorting as he did. “There is something you can do for me. I want to get out of here.”
* * *
“Oh, okay.” Celeste blinked. “Right now? It’s kind of cold out.”
Sam groaned. That wasn’t what he meant. He didn’t exactly know what he was asking.
“No.” He inhaled Parker’s baby shampoo, fighting the frustration bulging inside him. The accident had taken the use of his leg, but sometimes he thought it had taken his speech, too. Conversation had been easy—his strong suit—before the accident. And now? He might as well be a caveman, grunting and gesturing. “I mean in general. I was wondering if I could go grocery shopping with you.”
“Oh.” Her face fell as she sat back down. “Sure. No problem.”
But the way she slumped said it was a problem. “I don’t want to go out in the wheelchair. I don’t like being stared at, and I need to build strength in my legs. I’m just... Forget it.” He jerked his head to the side. Why did he have to be so dependent?
“Well, if you’re trying to avoid stares, I’m probably not the best person to be out with.” Her hair had fallen in front of her face, the way it had the first few times he saw her.
“Look, I know I’m asking a lot from you, but I’ve been hiding away for a long time. If I’m going to have any shot at a somewhat normal life, I have to go back to work. I thought if I start getting used to my crutches in public places, maybe it would be easier. I’m just asking to go with you when you have errands to run. Like when you stop in town for coffee or go to the library—that sort of thing.”
“I think that’s wonderful, Sam.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “But your family is better suited to take you out.”
“They all work. I would have to go with them at the busiest times, and everyone in town would stop and ask a million questions. My legs hurt the worst at night.” His forehead tightened, and he could feel his pulse hammering in his temple. He hated begging, but he’d given it a lot of thought over the last couple of weeks. Since he was back in physical therapy, he could see how much he’d been missing. It was as though he’d spent the last months under a dark tent, and the flap had opened, revealing a sunny meadow.
Frown lines deepened above the bridge of Celeste’s nose. “I’ll have to think about it.”
“What’s there to think about?” He massaged the back of his neck with his free hand. “I understand I would slow you down, but it can’t be that big of an imposition.”
“You wouldn’t slow me down, and you’re no imposition.” She wrung her hands together. “It’s just...well, I don’t go to the coffee shop or the library. I do the grocery shopping as soon as it opens, and I practically sprint through the aisles to get it done as quickly as possible.”
Some of the things puzzling him about Celeste finally added up. “You don’t want people to see your scars.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed. Was that a tear glistening in her eye?
“But you’re beautiful.”
She gasped, staring wide-eyed at him.
He shrugged. “I barely notice them.”
“You’re the only one, then. I have a follow-up appointment in December. I want more surgery.”
Something in her tone made him pause. In his experience, the doctors told him when he needed more surgery, not the other way around. He didn’t want to push the issue, though. He’d already brought a tear.
“Celeste?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Where do you miss going? You know, the places you took for granted before the accident?”
She gazed at the wall, a faraway look in her eyes. “Well, like I said, running. I’d run for miles whenever I wasn’t working. And we had a café I loved going to. I’d buy the latest David McCullough biography and just sit and read, sipping a latte. No one would bother me.”
She glowed as she spoke, and he wanted to give it to her—her old life—but he could no more fix hers than he could fix his own.
“With the weather getting colder, you won’t run outside anyhow, will you?” He couldn’t imagine running when it snowed. He’d never been an exercise fanatic. Played basketball now and then, and that was about it.
“Are you kidding? Of course I run in the winter. Ice and negative windchill are the only things stopping me.” She waved. “Well, until Parker came along, that is.”
Her words gave him an idea. He didn’t know if it would work, but he wasn’t about to overanalyze it at this point. “What if I watch Parker for you so you can run?”
“What?” She shook her head. “No. I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“I realize I’m not the best babysitter material. But if you brought him over here, there’s really not anywhere he could go. It’s a big open space for him. And I’ve got a television. We can watch cartoons.”
“But your cabinets aren’t babyproofed.” She stood, crossing her arms over her chest. “What if he falls or something and you can’t get to him?”
“I’m not paralyzed. I get in and out of my wheelchair fine, and you know I’ve been using my crutches longer each day for the past couple of weeks.”
Regret shone in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“No offense taken. I understand. If you’re worried about babyproofing, we can empty the cupboards. I never use them.” He tightened his hold on Parker, so warm against his chest. He wouldn’t mind taking care of the little guy for her, not at all. “How long do your runs last?”
“Thirty minutes to an hour. When I trained for marathons, I did longer runs, but I’m not training now.” She began to pace. He liked watching her graceful movements.
“Do you want to?” he asked.
She stopped, turning to him. “Do I want to what?”
“Train for a marathon.”
“I don’t know. I haven’t considered it.”
“Why not?”
“Well...” She returned to the couch and gave hi
m a frank look. “My life revolves around Parker. And I’m having a hard time fitting everyday activities and work around him. Even taking a shower has gotten complicated.”
He didn’t doubt that was true, but he guessed her insecurity about her scars was the bigger problem.
“Let me take him off your hands a few mornings a week so you can fit your runs in.”
He could see in her face how tempted she was to take him up on his offer.
“You can drop him off first thing Tuesday morning, and afterward we’ll go grocery shopping together. Look, you miss running. I miss work. I want to go to the Friday meetings. I want to inspect the cars on my dealership lot, talk to my employees and sell vehicles to my customers. I miss the reports, the quotas, the rush of meeting our sales goals. I need to get back. I might never walk on both feet again, but I can work. I want to work. But I need to do this, first.”
* * *
Celeste clasped her hands tightly. She had to say yes. She knew it. How could she deny Sam this? But how could she agree?
He didn’t know what he was asking.
“I want to help you, Sam, but there’s a reason I don’t go to the coffee shop and read anymore, and it has nothing to do with Parker. People don’t just stare. They ask questions, and sometimes it hurts.”
If she took him with her, he’d see how other people viewed her. He’d said she was beautiful—of all the wonderful things he could say!—but he’d see for himself no one else thought she was pretty.
“Maybe you’re wrong. They don’t know you, but they know me. If you take me with you, the people we run into might not notice you because it’s been so long since I’ve been out.”
She hadn’t thought of that. “Yeah, and then a mom will stroll by with her young kids and one will say, ‘Mommy, why does she have all those marks on her face?’ It’s embarrassing, Sam.”
His lips lifted in a grin. “I can handle that if you can handle, ‘Look, Marge, isn’t that the Sheffield boy? What a shame it’s been this long and he’s still not walking.’”
She giggled. She didn’t mean to, but it came out. “Do people actually say that?”
“I don’t know.” He waved, his eyes twinkling. “It’s been months since I’ve left the cottage. Come on, Celeste. I’ve got to get out of here. You take me out of this place a few times each week, and I’ll watch Parker on the mornings you want to run. In fact, I’m going to put the cherry on top of this deal. You said your accident anniversary is December 18, right? Let’s go to the Christmas parade together. You won’t have to be alone, and everyone in Lake Endwell can gawk at both of us. We’ll make goofy faces back at them.”
She’d never seen this side of him, and she liked it. He was charming, funny, and—Wait. Had he just asked her to go with him to the Christmas parade?
For a split second she felt normal.
How she missed feeling normal.
If she accepted Sam’s offer, she wouldn’t have to dread the anniversary. She’d been fighting off memories of Brandy nonstop. They’d been having a great time that night. The trunk had been full of Christmas gifts for Parker and her parents. If she had known it would be the last time she’d see Brandy, she would have...
“Come on, say yes.” The gleam in Sam’s eye reminded her of Brandy’s—the way she’d rope Celeste into her schemes. Brandy had been so much fun, and Celeste could almost hear her urging, “What are you waiting for? He’s so cute. Say yes already!”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said. “It might not be fun when you see what I have to deal with.”
“You’ll be too busy trying to make sure I don’t slip and fall on my face to notice what anyone else is doing. I haven’t walked with crutches anywhere but here.”
“You get around good on those, but we should probably take the wheelchair with us, just in case.”
“So is that a yes?” His eyes shone with intensity. A warm, excited feeling spread over her body.
“You meant it about the Christmas parade?”
“I meant it.”
“Okay, then. You have a deal.”
Chapter Four
Snowflakes chased and teased each other outside Celeste’s picture window early Tuesday morning. Steam spiraled from the mug of coffee warming her hand. All weekend she’d coaxed Parker, but he still hadn’t taken more than one step on his own.
Today would be a day of baby steps for them all.
Her first early morning run since moving to Lake Endwell.
Sam’s first attempt at babysitting Parker.
Their first public outing. To the grocery store.
She took another sip and padded in her fuzzy black slippers to the bedroom. She dug around in her dresser to find leggings, a long-sleeve air-wicking T and the rest of the layers. Why had she agreed to this again?
Anticipation revved her nerves at the thought of jogging in the crisp air under the gentle snowfall, but imagining the rest of the day made her stomach heave. What if Sam took his eyes off Parker, and he got into something dangerous? Choked on a toy, or worse, fell?
Would Sam be able to take care of him?
She tossed all the clothes on the bed and shook her head. She’d watched Sam’s strong arms scoop Parker onto his lap and knew firsthand his agility getting in and out of the wheelchair. His right leg didn’t bend all the way, but he functioned pretty well. His family had cleared out the bottom cupboards over the weekend, and yesterday, she’d installed a portable baby gate with a swinging door to block the hallway leading to his bathroom and bedrooms. Parker would be safe and sound in the huge open living area.
But...
Dear Father, give Sam everything he needs to protect Parker.
As for her promise to take Parker’s new babysitter to the grocery store, maybe it would be better for Sam to see people’s reactions now—before she let her attraction bloom. Because every time she thought about him, her heart did a little flip. It wasn’t just his looks, although his chiseled jawline had made her forget her whereabouts on more than one occasion. It was how he cared about her nephew, the grit he showed going to physical therapy and the fact he’d asked her to the Christmas parade.
A date!
Well, kind of a date.
Once they got through grocery shopping, who knew what she would call it. Would Sam view her differently after he saw how people reacted to her scars? Would he pity her? Pity, she could probably deal with, but the worst would be disgust—she’d seen it a few times around her hometown before she stopped going out.
Half an hour later, she’d fed Parker and changed him into a pair of jeans and an orange sweatshirt sporting a tiger face. Celeste laced her running shoes, pulled her purple fleece headband over her ears and bundled Parker up in his stocking cap and puffy blue coat. She hoisted him on her hip and slung the diaper bag over her shoulder.
Out in the fresh air, Parker raised his face to the sky and squinted as snowflakes tickled his cheeks. He clapped his hands and laughed.
“It’s snow. You like it, don’t you?” Celeste hugged him close to her. “Guess what? You get to play with Sam today while I go running.”
“Mama!” He looked at her and pointed to the flakes.
Had he just called her Mama? Her heart practically thumped out of her chest as a sinking sensation slid down her throat. Could he call her that? Could he call her Mama?
She wasn’t his mama. Brandy was. And Brandy would be here if it wasn’t for her.
Celeste had been the one who insisted they go out, that Brandy needed a break, needed some fun. She’d been worried about how listless Brandy had become.
I don’t have time to think about it now.
After taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she kissed Parker’s cheek and hurried up the steps leading to Sam’s kitchen. She knocked, waited for t
he go-ahead and entered. Swiping Parker’s hat off his head, she stomped her feet free of snow, then quickly took off his coat and set him on the floor. He instantly crawled toward the living room. Sam waited on the couch, his right knee in a black brace under his basketball shorts. The skin on his leg held thick purple scars and rivets where he’d lost tissue. She hadn’t seen him with his leg uncovered, and the shock of his injuries took her breath away.
“Hey, buddy, you’re hanging out with me this morning.” Sam held his arms wide as Parker approached. Using the edge of the couch, Parker stood and bounced until Sam picked him up. Sam grinned at Celeste. “What did you feed him this morning? He’s excited.”
“Apple-and-cinnamon oatmeal. Breakfast of champions.” She dragged her toe back and forth in front of her. Maybe this was a bad idea. She forced herself not to stare at his leg. No wonder he dealt with so much pain.
“What’s wrong?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “You worried about me watching the little guy? We’ll be fine. I’ve got you and my aunt Sally on speed dial.”
“I know. It’s just... I’ve never left him with anyone but my parents, so I’m a little nervous.” She bit the corner of her lip. “Plus, my head’s kind of messed up right now. A minute ago, Parker called me Mama.”
“And that’s a problem?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I wasn’t prepared for it. I guess I thought he’d call me Auntie or something.”
“But you’re his mom.”
“I could never replace Brandy.”
“That’s not the point.” He tightened his hold around a wiggly Parker. “You’re going to raise him as your son, and you’re the only mother he’ll ever know. He should call you Mom.”
Put in those terms, her reservations didn’t make sense. But they still bothered her.
“I just don’t want to take this away from her.” She’d already taken enough.
“You wouldn’t be. You are planning on telling him about his mom and dad, right?”
“Of course!”
“Then what’s the problem? He’ll know he had parents who loved him but who couldn’t raise him, much as they would have liked to. And he’ll have a mom who loves him and can raise him.”
