Passionate Kisses

by Various

  “It is,” said the woman standing behind Alex.

  John turned to her, wondering who she was and what her interest was in the baby. “Have we met?”

  She stepped between Alex and Tanya and put out her hand. “I’m Delores Smith. Tanya’s mom.” She smiled shyly. “Tanya was an early baby. She spent several weeks in the hospital, but that was sixteen-odd years ago. Had she been born today, she probably would’ve gone home much earlier.”

  John shook her hand. He turned as Alex clapped him on the shoulder. “John-boy, I’d like to introduce you to my daughter.” He put his arms around Tanya and gave her a big hug.

  John looked back and forth between the two, and narrowed his eyes. “Daughter? What are you talking about?”

  Alex nodded toward Delores. “That’s Lori.”

  John’s eyes widened as the whole scenario made itself clear. He glanced at Delores. “My God. And all this time I thought you were a figment of his imagination.”

  “Isn’t this great?” Alex asked, beaming. “I get a daughter without having to go through all the icky stuff like changing poopy diapers.”

  Tanya made a face and squirmed out of his arms. “That’s so lame, Mr. D.”

  “At least call me Alex, will you?” He let out one of his infectious laughs and Tanya couldn’t help but follow suit.

  “So you’re the culprit,” Delores accused, staring at Alex.

  He looked confused. “What?”

  “That laugh. She gets it from you. I don’t remember it.”

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t laugh much in those days.”

  John listened to the conversation around him as if he stood outside himself. He was jealous of Alex. Sure, he had missed Tanya’s growing up years, but he knew her now and she knew him. That was all that mattered.

  His daughter, on the other hand — Sam’s daughter, he amended — would never know who he was, or at least not know him as her father. That had been the plan all along, ever since he’d signed that contract last February.

  He’d just never expected it to hurt this bad.

  John was waiting in line at the hospital’s espresso cart when Alex found him. “The girls are in with Sam,” he explained when John cast about for Delores and Tanya. “Thought you might want some company.”

  “Not particularly.” John stepped up to the cart and placed his order.

  Alex didn’t take the hint and got behind him in line.

  When both men had their drinks, they crossed the hall and looked out the window toward downtown Seattle. The hospital sat halfway up Capital Hill, and from their vantage point they could see the twinkling lights of the skyscrapers, the majestic Space Needle and Elliott Bay off in the distance. Even under the cover of night, it was a breathtaking landscape, and normally John would be thinking there’s no place on earth like the Puget Sound area. But right now he’d be blind to a spotlight in the face, let alone the Northwest splendor.

  “Tanya told me something interesting.”

  “What’s that?” John asked, about as curious as a dead cat.

  “She told me Brian was trying to get out of a gang when he was killed, not into one.”

  That got his attention. He met Alex’s eyes in the window reflection.

  “Remember when you and I took care of Earl? Well, apparently he wasn’t the one who’d beat the holy hell out of the kid that time. Brian just let us think that.”

  John remembered that night well, the satisfaction of landing a punch square on Earl’s jaw. He let out a loud sigh. “Christ. Poor kid.”

  They stared, unspeaking, at the twinkling lights of night-time Seattle.

  Finally, Alex spoke in a quiet voice. “He was happy living with you, John-boy. He wanted out. We made a difference. You made a difference.”

  “Yeah, for all the good it did.” His voice was flat.

  “You want to talk about it?” Alex asked.

  “Brian’s dead. What more can we say?”

  “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

  John sipped his latte and burned the roof of his mouth. It was a pleasant distraction to the war going on between his heart and his brain.

  “You’re wishing that little baby had your last name, aren’t you? Not to mention his mama.”

  John nursed the burn on his palate with his tongue.

  “You’re obviously not happy with the situation as it stands right now,” Alex continued.

  John set the paper cup on the window ledge and rested his forehead against the cool pane. “The situation can’t be any other way and you know it, Drake.”

  “I don’t know it, man. I saw how you raced out of the gym to come here and be with Sam. I’ve seen the way you—”

  “Drake,” John said firmly. “Enough.” He started off down the hall.

  “I don’t know who’s the stupider one, you or Sam,” Alex called out. “Her for ever getting mixed up with your sorry ass, or you for continuing to live in the past.”

  John stopped dead in his tracks, whirled around and pointed a finger at Alex, marching back toward his friend. “Who are you to talk about living in the past? You’ve spent the past seventeen years pining over Lori, letting scores of perfectly good women get away because of some warped memory of a woman who didn’t even tell you she was expecting your baby.”

  Alex’s eyes turned cold. “I’m going to let that pass because you’re all fucked up in the head right now, but don’t you ever be dissing Lori again, John-boy. You hear me? And yes, I may have pined over her all these years, but look how it’s turned out. I have a daughter and I plan to be a real dad to her from this day forward. It’s about the future now, John. The future. Not the past.” His voice and expression softened. “Don’t you think it’s time you let it go?”

  John’s jaw muscles worked overtime as he stared out into the black night. “I can’t let it go, Alex. Not ever.” He spun on his heel and walked down the empty corridor.

  Careful not to disturb the tubes and wires, Sam gingerly lifted Danielle into her arms under the watchful eyes of one of the attending nurses. When she settled into the rocking chair beside Danielle’s bed, the nurse left mother and daughter alone.

  Sam stared at the tiny creature in her arms. Leaning down to kiss her daughter’s soft forehead, she inhaled the sweet baby scent. “Oh, sweetheart. I love you so much already, do you know that?”

  At her voice, little Danielle’s eyelids fluttered open. Dark gray eyes focused on Sam a long moment before closing again. Danielle’s pediatrician assured Sam that she might be able to go home in a couple of weeks or so. Sam hugged her daughter close, then closed her eyes, too, tears slipping down her cheeks.

  This should be the happiest day of her life, and in many ways it was, but she wanted so badly to share it with John. She’d really hoped that once he saw the baby, their daughter, his feelings about being a father and part of their family would change. But his conspicuous absence since Danielle’s birth more than seven hours ago spoke volumes.

  Dressed in the mint-green cover gown, John walked through the silent hallway of the NICU. He’d spent the past few hours wandering the halls of the hospital. Glancing into the rooms on either side of him, he saw rows of sterile nursery beds, warming lights shining down on the tiny infant occupants. At some of the beds, a nurse in brightly-colored pants hovered nearby, tending to the baby at hand. What struck John the most about this place was the silence. Unlike the nursery he’d passed on the way here, with several red-faced squalling babies angry at the world for its harsh noises and bright lights, this place was like a tomb.

  He grimaced at his mind’s choice of words. A tomb. How many of these tiny babies would survive? How many would not? He swallowed hard and continued down the hall toward the room he’d been directed to by the nurse at the reception desk.

  He stopped short in the doorway, seeing Sam in a rocking chair. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes had giant dark circles under them, but to him, she’d never looked more beautiful, more serene. In her arm
s was the baby. Danielle. He swallowed back the lump in his throat. He couldn’t even think the name without going all soft inside. She was so tiny. So precious. So fragile with those tubes in her nose and others tucked into the blanket, leading who knows where.

  Using her slippered feet to gently rock the chair, Sam cooed love words to the baby, the light over the bed illuminating the touching scene. The look on her face held all the love a mother could hold, and for a jealous instant, John wished he were the object of that look. Wished he deserved to be the object of that look. He wanted so badly to be a part of the little family just feet away, yet knowing it wasn’t possible.

  “Mommy loves you so much, sweetpea. I’ll never let anything bad happen to you, okay? Never, ever, ever. I’ll keep you safe and happy forever and ever, because you’re my little angel.”

  The mommy-speak continued, but John’s ears didn’t process another word. The only words that hammered through his consciousness were: I’ll never let anything bad happen to you... I’ll keep you safe...

  He wanted the same thing for Danielle. He would rather be lonely and miserable for the rest of his sorry life than cause this child harm. His fingers tightened on the door frame until the pain snapped him back into the cold reality of his situation. He turned to go.

  “John?” Sam’s soft voice spun him around.

  “Oh. Hi. I didn’t want to disturb you,” he said, keeping his voice low.

  “I thought you’d left.” Her eyes reflected a trace of accusation.

  “No, I’ve just been—” he cocked his head toward the exit down the hall, “walking around. Thinking.”

  She nodded, her gaze wary as if expecting the worst.

  Needing to say something, anything to fill the awkward silence, he told her, “I heard about Brian. About him trying to get out of the gang, I mean.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh. Tanya just told me yesterday... or I guess it was the day before.” She scrunched her face as if trying to figure out the dates. “I’m sorry. I meant to tell you.”

  His lips curved upward into a half smile. “You’ve been busy.” He couldn’t help it. His gaze dropped to the sleeping baby. Lord, she was precious.

  “How does that make you feel?” she asked.

  For a moment, he thought she was referring to Danielle and how he felt about looking at her. Then he realized she was talking about Brian. “I’m glad he wanted out. But I wish he’d asked for my help.”

  “He wanted you to be proud of him.”

  John made a sound through his teeth.

  “If you’d never come into his life, he’d have wound up in jail or dead.”

  “He wound up dead anyway, Sam.” His voice broke.

  “John. Listen to me. Look at me.” He did. Her expression was empathetic. “If you’d never gotten involved with Brian, he would never have known what it was like to live in a normal, healthy home. He would never have known what it was like to be cared about. He would have died without ever having been truly loved. Yes, I know you loved him.”

  Memories of his times with Brian zipped through his brain like he was watching an internal slide show. Wrestling with the boy on the family room floor. Reading the paper on the leather couch while Brian studied at the kitchen table. Picking him up after school and stopping at Baskin Robbins for ice cream. Taking him out on the boat. Trivialities in the scheme of things, but those were the moments he remembered best. He came out of the brief reverie to find Sam watching him. He straightened against the door frame. “I didn’t come here to talk about Brian.”

  Her chest rose and fell with her sigh. “You came to tell me you’re leaving, didn’t you?” It was more a statement than a question.

  John let out a long breath. He nodded. “I have to. I’m sorry.”

  Turning her face toward the shadowy corners of the NICU, she didn’t say anything for a long time. She fussed with Danielle’s blanket, tucking it gently around the sleeping baby. She shifted her position in the chair and rocked with her feet, the movement a bit more forceful than it had been when he’d arrived. Finally, she said, “Your dad’s lucky he’s dead.”

  “What?”

  “If he wasn’t, I’d beat the crap out of him for putting fear and doubt in a young boy’s vulnerable mind— in your mind, John.” She met his eyes. “He may not have believed in you, he may have led you not to believe in yourself, but I do.”

  “Sam.”

  “No. You need to hear this.” Her lips trembled and she pulled Danielle closer to her body. The baby whimpered softly. Sam stroked the tiny head. “I’m not like those other weak-willed, spineless women you married. I trust you and believe in you, John Everest. I will love you forever and won’t ever give up on you.” She sniffled. “You hear me? Not ever.”

  No, that didn’t just about kill him. He closed his eyes a moment to collect what semblance of control he had remaining. “You going to be okay?”

  She nodded. “I’m always okay.” The strong words conflicted with the shaky way they were delivered. “I’ll make you a deal,” she said, her voice wavering. “Rock, scissors, paper. If I win, you have to stay with us forever. If you win, then—” Her words caught and she bit her lip.

  “Sam, I always win that game.” He was dying inside.

  Tears slid down her face, falling onto Danielle’s blanket, making dark pink splotches on the pink material. “I know.”

  Chapter 26

  A freezing wind buffeted John as hurried across the mall parking lot. A greeter from the Salvation Army rang a tiny bell at the entrance. Despite his bah-humbug mood, John shoved a few dollars into the money pot.

  “Thank you, sir. And Merry Christmas.”

  Bite me. John stormed through the revolving doors. Warmth enveloped him and he loosened his jacket. A sign hanging from the ceiling gaily proclaimed, Seventeen shopping days until Christmas. Less than three weeks until the happy day and he hadn’t done a stitch of shopping, nor had he bought a tree or hung lights. What was the point? In the space of a little over a month, he’d lost everything that gave meaning to his life. First Brian, then Sam, and most recently, little Danielle. He couldn’t even get excited about the upcoming opening of the youth center. He just didn’t care.

  If it were up to him, he’d forgo Christmas altogether this year. No, he’d cancel it for the next fifty years or until he was dead, whichever came first. But... his niece and nephew were counting the days. He’d last seen them at Thanksgiving and they’d bombarded him with requests for presents.

  Anxious to get his business taken care of as quickly as possible, before all the nauseatingly cheery decorations choked him, he headed for Nordstrom. His niece was a pre-teen and cool clothes were her life, according to his sister-in-law. And his four-year-old nephew wore out clothes faster than a baby went through diapers. Nordstrom should have most everything on his list, then he could get the hell out of there.

  He passed the Santa Claus display with the long line of fidgety kids waiting to get their pictures taken with the loser in the red costume. When the fat guy boomed, “Ho, ho, ho,” to the audience, John wanted to deck him.

  Reaching Nordstrom, he asked one of the perfume girls for directions to the kids’ department. Completely ignoring her efforts to flirt with him, he headed for the escalator. Getting off on the third floor, he reached into his back pocket for Harlan and Tori’s wish list. He stopped in the center of the aisle, scanning the area. His eyes lit upon the infant section beside him. He stood just inches away from a rack filled with frilly dresses in happy shades of pastel. Unable to stop himself, he reached out and fingered one of the tiny dresses. The soft material snagged on the roughness of his hands. He rubbed his fingers across the lace. The delicate pattern seemed so fragile. He let out a loud, uneven breath as Danielle’s image appeared in his mind. Life was fragile.

  As he let go of the dress, the tag slid over the back of his hand. It read “newborn.” A wave of sadness and wanting washed over him as he recalled his sister-in-law telling him how quickly b
abies outgrew clothes.

  Sam had texted him that Danielle was doing fine and would be released from the hospital soon. It had been his only contact with Sam since that gut-wrenching night in the NICU two weeks ago. How much had the tiny girl grown since then? Would she have outgrown these newborn sizes by now? He sorted through the dresses until he found one that said it fit 0-3 months. It, too, seemed exceedingly small. How long before she’d outgrow this?

  The urge to bawl his eyes out hit him like a fist in the solar plexus. He didn’t want to miss seeing her outgrow any more sizes. All his worries and fears suddenly seemed so trivial, so meaningless. Sam was right. His dad had been a mean old man, and to let such a person’s words continue to rule his life was nothing short of stupid. If Sam trusted and believed in him, maybe he had to trust and believe in her.

  “Can I help you find something?” asked a pleasant voice near his shoulder. He looked into the warm brown eyes of a middle-aged sales clerk.

  He shook his head, but he said, “Yes.”

  “Who are you shopping for?” the clerk asked.

  Love swelled his heart and he wanted to shout for joy. “My daughter.”

  “No way. Absolutely not,” Sam told her boss over the phone.

  “I need you on this, Rossi. As you well know, we’re big sponsors of the Extravaganza. We have to have someone there to cover it.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because everyone else is busy. Betty Baldwin was supposed to cover it but she’s out with the flu. You told me to call you if we got into a bind.”

  Sam closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the wall of her kitchen. “This is a bad weekend, Oz. Danielle is coming home Sunday and I have a ton to do to get ready for her, plus I’d wanted to spend the tomorrow with her at the hospital.”

  “It’s just a couple hours out of your day. You can figure it out.”

  “Please, Oz. I can’t handle this right now.” The memories would be too painful.