by Karina Bliss
Adam frowned. “Don’t…blow…it.”
“Yeah, well, when I want relationship advice from a guy who’s been single for twenty-five years I’ll ask.”
“Couldn’t…replace…” Adam stopped.
His father didn’t need to finish. He couldn’t replace Francis, Joe’s mother.
With an all-too-familiar tension tightening his gut, Joe changed the subject. “You look tired, Adam.” There was a gray tinge in his father’s complexion that hadn’t been there yesterday, and he was struggling more than usual with words.
“Shit…happens.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” Joe returned the blue plastic chair to Adam’s bedside and sat down. His father’s breathing seemed labored. Joe put a hand on Adam’s forehead. Clammy. “You okay? Want me to get a—”
“No!” The response was explosive, even for Adam.
“Okay, okay, keep your shirt on. I’m not going to fight about it. On that subject, I hear through Aunt Jenny that you’ve decided to quit torturing your little brother. That you’ve stopped pretending to covet the Carson necklace. Why?”
The corner of his father’s mouth lifted. “Good…will…all…men.”
“Let’s hope the bastard appreciates it.” Joe remembered the card in his pocket. “Speaking of Christmas, Kaitlin wanted me to give you this.”
It was a Christmas card with faces superimposed on the Christmas tree ornaments. Joe could pick out his mother and grandmother, as well as the Carson clan. And Pip.
He cleared his throat. “I was thinking about Nana Jo last night, and this whole thing with Robert Carson.” Looking for answers to his dilemma with Pip, and finding nothing but deceit and disappointment and bereavement in his family tree. “We seem to have a tradition of being unlucky in love.”
“I…wasn’t.”
Joe couldn’t help laughing bitterly.
Adam glared. “You…should…be…so…lucky.”
“Lucky?” Something held tight for too long suddenly snapped inside him. “Are you so deluded to think you’re a role model for a happy-ever-after? Do you honestly think I’d want to feel about Pip the way you felt about Mom?” He remembered his father’s grief as painfully as his own. “Your life turned to shit when she died. Hell, even as a kid I swore I’d never—”
Joe stopped as reality shifted. He felt as though a lifetime of fog had cleared—and the view wasn’t pretty. His mistrust of love originated from Adam’s response to Francis’s death, not Sue’s rejection. That had only reinforced his conviction that emotional intimacy led to loss.
He stared at his father. And the irony was that he’d lose Pip precisely because he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge how much he loved her.
Every failure in his life came back to this man.
Adam reached out a hand. “Son.”
“Don’t call me that.” The chair toppled as Joe shoved it back to move out of range. “You abandoned me. I lost a mother and a father when Mom died. Can you even imagine how that felt to a four-year-old? You were my hero and suddenly you couldn’t stand to be around me anymore.”
“No…” Adam struggled to a semi-upright position. “Couldn’t…stand…me…around…you.” He fell back on the pillow, exhausted. “Best…leave…”
“I missed you.” Emotions, felt but never admitted, welled like fresh blood from an old wound.
“Here…now…”
“It’s too late.” Joe’s chest hurt. “I can’t give you what you want.”
“I…give…you…. Listen!” Face shining with perspiration, Adam strained to get the words out. “Learn…my…mistakes.” His throat convulsed. “Don’t…shutout…loves…you. Pip…me…”
“Then don’t die,” Joe said harshly. To his horror, his vision blurred, all the emotions, all the needs he’d suppressed over the years welling up. “Don’t leave me again.”
He waited for the empty promises, like the ones Adam had fended him off with over his childhood.
I’ll see you soon, son.
One more season crab-fishing and I’ll have enough money to settle back in San Francisco.
Sure, I want you with me…maybe next year.
Adam’s lips moved, the sound barely a whisper. “Forgive…me.”
Joe closed his eyes, four years old again and watching in bewilderment as his father walked away. Now, twenty-five years later, he was still helpless to do anything about it.
He dropped his face in his hands and wept silently. Wept for everything he’d lost and found, only to lose again. Finally, he became aware of his father’s hand patting his knee. It was the only part of Joe he could reach. “Son?”
Joe walked to the sink and washed his face—Robert Carson’s face, with nothing of Adam in it. It didn’t matter. In the end a man had to decide for himself who he was going to be, and how he was going to live.
He picked up the fallen chair, sat down and clasped his father’s hand. Adam’s grip was weak, the love in his eyes strong.
“Dad.”
Adam sighed and shut his eyes. Joe could almost see the tension leave his body. His father’s grip relaxed as he drifted into sleep. Through the window, the sky faded to pink and gold, leaching to gray and finally black. Yet Joe was strangely reluctant to move. There was something peaceful about this dark room.
He awoke with his head resting on the bed and his father’s hand heavy on his outstretched arm. Heavy and cold. Joe closed his eyes again, holding back awareness by concentrating on the stiffness in his neck, the weave of the blanket under his left cheek, the receding clatter of a meds trolley.
But instinctively he’d already grasped his father’s lifeless fingers.
Slowly, he sat up. Adam had moved on. But for the first time in his life, Joe couldn’t resent it. With great care, he positioned his father’s arms by his sides, then smoothed the covers.
“Give Mom and Nana Jo my love,” he said, then put on his sweater and coat and walked into the corridor, where he stopped, momentarily disoriented. Bing Crosby was crooning about a white Christmas; a fir tree at reception blinked with colored lights. He felt as if he’d been on a long journey and come back to a changed world. Except he was the one who’d changed.
“Hi, Joe,” Elaine said over the meds trolley. “I popped my head in around dinnertime and saw you sound asleep. Your father shooed me away. He must be starving.”
“I left him sleeping.” Joe wasn’t ready for the fuss, the condolences and papers to sign. It seemed disrespectful somehow. Let his father rest.
“Then I won’t disturb him until I have to. Good night.”
Outside, a chill wind blew off the Pacific. Buttoning his winter coat, Joe illuminated the face of his Rolex. It was 8:00 p.m. Kaitlin would be getting ready for bed. Hell, he wasn’t ready to tell her, either. Tomorrow. But in the car he took a deep, steadying breath and called Daniel.
“Are you okay?” was his uncle’s first response to the news.
“Yeah, we’d sorted a few things out.” Joe hesitated. “You okay?”
“For Adam’s sake I wanted it to be over, but—” Daniel’s voice broke. There was a long silence, which Joe knew not to fill. “I’m in El Granada, but I’ll drive back first thing in the morning.”
“Listen, do me a favor and phone Sue. She can tell the rest of the family.” After giving Daniel her number, Joe started the engine, cranking up the heat. There was only one person he needed right now.
Joe drove to the pink palace and knocked on the door.
Pip opened it, buttoning her red coat. “You’re a little early. I’ll just get my…” Looking up, her eyes widened.
Two suitcases sat in the middle of the living room. It took a few seconds before Joe realized their significance. Somehow he managed to speak past his tight throat. “You’re going back to New Zealand.”
She lifted her chin, swallowed. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry.”
The intercom buzzed and Pip turned her back on him to answer it. “Hello.”
Joe stared at the suitcases. Leaving. He tried to think, but his brain was blank with shock, exhaustion and grief.
“ABC Cabs for a Miz Browne.”
“Come on up.” Her face pale, Pip turned back to him, desperation in her red-rimmed eyes. “Please don’t make this harder than it is.”
A fat guy lumbered up the stairs, breathing hard from that slight exertion. Joe pulled a fifty out of his coat pocket. “Your services are no longer required.”
“Yes, they are!” Pip picked up one of her suitcases. “Nothing you can say—”
“I’ll take you to the airport.”
The cabby shrugged, took the fifty and left.
Pip bit her lip. “You’re not going to try and talk me out of this?”
“No.” Joe took the suitcase from her, and picked up the other. He was grateful for the numbness, grateful because it allowed him to do the right thing. Put Pip first.
He could never compensate for what she’d have to sacrifice to stay. Only arrogance had allowed him to think he could. So he loved her, so what? He’d always be a man who had difficulty expressing emotions, who got it wrong more often than he got it right.
Joe wouldn’t stake her future on an hour-old belief that he could change. While Pip locked her front door for the last time, he stacked the bags in the trunk.
The only thing Joe knew for sure was that if his child was born here, Pip would never move back to New Zealand. Because once he’d bonded with the baby her soft heart would never allow her to part them. He slammed the trunk, and the metal was icy cold under his fingers. Hadn’t he been banking on that?
But if he was going to put Pip first, he had to do it now. Because once he kissed his newborn’s face, he’d never be able to let the baby go.
Sensing Pip’s troubled gaze on him, he forced a smile. “Ready to go?”
She was silent through the trip, answering him in monosyllables. Waiting for his reproach. “One day I’ll move out of the city,” he said conversationally, “somewhere inland where the weather’s less erratic.”
Pip cleared her throat. “Somewhere between the city and Napa Valley would be nice.”
When he sensed she could handle it, Joe said quietly, “You know it’s important to me that you accept child support, don’t you, Pip?”
“Yes.” She turned her head to look out the window, even though there was nothing to see but cars and freeway. “And visit whenever you want. I’m not denying you any rights as a father, Joe.”
His vision blurred. He blinked to refocus on the road.
“We’ll come for visits, too.” Pip’s voice was thick. “I haven’t forgotten our baby has a sister here.”
Always fair. But so much depended on variables, on finances and future relationships. On whether they could raise a child together, living thousands of miles apart.
The airport loomed out of the dark and Joe gripped the steering wheel.
Pip stiffened, too. “You can drop me off at the terminal.”
“And have Nana Jo turning in her grave?”
Two weeks before Christmas, the exodus had begun. It took Joe another fifteen minutes to find a place to park in the multistory lot. Then he had to locate a cart for Pip’s bags. Neither of them spoke.
The terminal was warm and so brightly lit it hurt his eyes. Festive music played between flight announcements. Colored tinsel decorated the check-in counters.
Joe took a seat and waited while Pip joined the snake chain of passengers waiting to check in. You’re doing the right thing.
“I’m done.”
Joe forced himself to stand. “That’s good.”
“All that’s left to do is go through security.” Avoiding his gaze, Pip fumbled with her handbag, then pulled out an envelope. “I was going to post this. It’s a letter for Kaitlin.”
Their fingers touched as he took it. Hers were chilled. “I’ll make sure she gets it.”
“And explain things to your dad?” Her voice was small, caught in her throat. This wasn’t easy for her, either.
Joe nodded. If he told her about Adam he knew she’d postpone her flight. He wouldn’t resort to emotional blackmail.
It was time to end the torture for both of them. “Safe journey, Pip.” Over her shoulder he watched a young father sweep his small son in his arms and throw the laughing child in the air. “Call me when you get there.”
“One question,” she said before he’d made a move to leave. He forced himself to meet her gaze. “How did you know I was leaving?”
“I didn’t.”
“Then why did you come to my apartment tonight?” When he hesitated, she said, “Honesty, no matter what.”
Joe let everything he felt for her show on his face. “I came to tell you I loved you.”
Pip froze. “It won’t work, Joe.” Her lips barely moved. “The last-minute declaration of love to stop the girl taking your baby away.”
“You asked.”
She gulped and came to life. Took two quick steps backward. “No, I can’t do this anymore, feel like this anymore. I’m going home.”
“It’s okay,” he reassured her. “I know it’s too late for us.”
Gently knuckling her cheek, Joe walked to the exit and out into the night, where he stopped to suck in deep breaths of chilled air. The cold seemed to fan out from his lungs into his limbs. He started to shiver.
An old lady stopped in front of him. “You okay, son?”
Joe slowed his breathing. “Fine, thank you.”
But her kindness released something in him. As he walked on, tears stung his eyes. Before today, the last time he’d cried was at Kaitlin’s birth.
Pip’s perfume lingered in the car. Joe pillowed his arms against the steering wheel and buried his face. He’d lost three people he loved tonight—his father, his soul mate and their child.
Nothing will hurt this much again, he promised himself. No day will ever be worse. In a moment of illumination Joe understood the self-sacrifice behind his grandparents’ decision to give up two of their children.
Adam had had a future as the son of a dead war hero, none as the bastard of a married man. However much Robert Carson might have wanted to acknowledge his son.
And Josephine had spared her daughter the stigma of illegitimacy, with all the prejudice that entailed at the time. His grandmother had taught Joe a lot in life; she was still teaching him in death.
Selflessness sucked. Joe managed a shaky laugh, then started the engine and drove to the exit, where he shoved his ticket in the slot and waited until the barrier lifted. As he accelerated, he did a routine check in the rearview mirror.
Waving her arms, Pip was running after the car.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
PIP STOPPED RUNNING when Joe slammed on the brakes, and bent double to catch her breath, which escaped in foggy gasps.
She was winded by the desperate surge of adrenaline that had slammed her as she’d watched Joe’s car pull away. Overheated, she pulled open her coat, letting the cold air snake around the summer dress she’d worn for the New Zealand climate.
Joe leaped out of his car and ran back toward her. “Are you okay?”
Planting her hands on her hips, Pip glared at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
In the middle of reaching out to her, Joe dropped his arms to his sides. “How did you find out?”
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you didn’t tell me.”
She’d just finished going through customs when Daniel called her cell. Thinking it was Joe, she’d resisted answering, too lacerated by his expedient declaration of love to have anything more to say to Joe bloody Fraser. Except when she finally checked, she hadn’t recognized the number.
She was still angry. “You really think I’d leave you on the day your father died?” Pip accused him.
Joe backed away, his hands raised. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. I don’t want pity swaying your decision.”
Pip stared at him. “My God, you were telling t
he truth.” Joy swept through her from the toes up. “You do love me.”
“No.” He shook his head. “You were right, I was trying to manipulate you into staying.”
“In that case you would have told me about Adam.”
He passed a hand over his face, obviously too shell-shocked to sustain a logical argument. “I’m doing what’s right for you, Pip,” he said doggedly. “Walking you back to the terminal and putting you on a plane home to your family.”
She had never loved him more than she did at this moment. Never been so confident that they could make this work.
“You’re a damn fool, Fraser.” Stepping forward, Pip wrapped her arms around him, buried her face in his shoulder and held on tight. “You’re my family.”
Of course Joe didn’t believe her. Because that would be too easy, and nothing about this man was easy, what with his ridiculous aversion to being happy.
“At least,” he said carefully, when he realized he wasn’t going to persuade her to catch her flight, “you still have your original flight booking, next week.”
Pip didn’t argue. So they weren’t going to have their happy-ever-after moment in the airport car park. That wasn’t her priority right now.
“Let’s get you home.” She led him to his car, where she dumped him protesting in the passenger seat, then got behind the wheel.
Joe fell asleep almost immediately. As she drove, Pip thought of Adam, and her tears flowed as she mourned the opportunity to know him better, for him to know her unborn child.
Halfway home she remembered her bags were still at the airport, and rang to stop them from being blown up. Since neither of them had clothes at her apartment she drove to Joe’s hotel, where she roused him enough to get him upstairs. He collapsed on the bed, asleep again before his head hit the pillow.
Pip made hot tea and sat quietly, composing herself. Then, taking a deep breath, she called her family.
“BUT I DON’T SEE WHY you won’t marry Pip,” Kaitlin said. She’d decided her special skill lay in uncovering secrets, not keeping them.
