Reluctant Housemates

by Linda Barrett

  It was. She barged into his bedroom, opened a lot of drawers until she found sweatshirts and pants. Underwear. Socks. Shoes in the bottom of his closet. Everything into a big plastic bag. Time to get into her car. Start the engine. Take a deep breath.

  Breathe. In. Out. They’ll get him. They’ll bring him home. And I’ll love him forever. If she hadn’t hurt him forever. What if he wouldn’t look at her? Worse, what if he looked at her with anger? And disappointment? No, no. She wouldn’t go down that path. She’d hug and kiss him so hard, he’d know exactly how she felt.

  She drove carefully in the rain. She gripped the wheel so tightly, her knuckles shone white. She pulled over at one point and took out her cell phone.

  “Dad? Got any of that whiskey you and Bart share? Good.” She told him about Jack. “Meet me…meet me…” And she started to cry.

  “Pull yourself together, Rachel! If he’s hurt or ill, he’ll need you to be strong.”

  Strong. She, who was always in such control! Hadn’t everyone called her stubborn? Too strong-minded. And now look at her!

  “You’re right. You’re right. I’m fine, Dad. See you there.”

  “Five minutes.”

  She pulled into the parking lot next to the harbormaster’s office, lifted the bag of clothes and ran inside.

  “Any news?” she called as she stepped over the threshold.

  Aaron Cooper looked exhausted. No doubt the night had been a difficult one for the harbormaster and his staff. “The three of us have been listening,” he said, waving at his two young assistants also in the office. “And I’m tuned to VHF Channel 16, but nothing yet. That can be good news, too.” His obvious attempt to cheer her up wasn’t going to work when his brow was creased and his mouth tight.

  The door opened and Lou and Pearl joined them, a paper bag in her dad’s hand. “Anything yet?” he asked.

  Rachel shook her head.

  “It’s early, Lou. Maybe only twenty minutes since Rachel called it in,” said Aaron.

  Rachel glanced at her watch. “Thirty-five minutes.”

  The radio sparked to life at that moment. “Coast Guard MLB Washington to Pilgrim Cove Harbor on Channel 16. Switch and answer Channel 68.”

  Aaron worked the controls. “Pilgrim Cove here,” replied the harbormaster.

  “Towing a thirty-foot sport cruiser, one passenger. Needs medical attention. Now below deck. Do you read?”

  “Ten-four. Slip available.” He gave coordinates. “Lights are on and all hands on deck here. Did you get the passenger’s name?”

  “Jack. Just Jack. We’re coming in now.”

  The room erupted in a quiet cheer. Rachel almost collapsed with relief. She forced her legs to carry her to her father and gave him her cell phone. “Please call Max Rosen. Tell him to bring his medical bag.”

  Lou nodded.

  “I’m going to get the blankets from my car, and then I’m going out there,” she said, pointing at the window overlooking the pier. “I’m going out there to get Jack.”

  HE FELT THE BOAT ROCK HARD. Then hit something. He wouldn’t have cared if it had been an iceberg. In fact, he felt like an iceberg himself. He wanted to sleep. He turned his head on the cushion of the berth below deck. Man, did he need to sleep. No more rain. No more cold.

  Footsteps above him. And voices.

  “Let me through, please. I’ve got a flashlight, and I’m going to him.”

  Suddenly, he wasn’t sleepy. Rachel? Rachel’s voice? He tried to get up and crashed to the floor instead. And then Rachel was there. Her hands on his face.

  “Oh, my God! You’re freezing cold. But I brought you blankets. Let me help you.”

  He felt pressure on his face here and there. Was she kissing him? He could only hope. Then she spoke. “Forgive me, Jack. I love you so much. I’m so sorry about what I said. About everything.”

  “Kiss-s-s me,” he said on an exhaled breath of air.

  She did.

  “Am I in heaven…are you real?”

  “Shh. I’m real. But now you’re scaring me.”

  Her lips touched his forehead, traveled across it. “You’re frozen,” she said.

  “No. I’m burning.” Frostbite was painful when it started to thaw. She began pushing and pulling him in all directions.

  “You’re too heavy for me,” she said. “I need some help. Don’t move.”

  As if he could. Then he was alone. He listened. Listened hard. And despite the pain in his hands and feet, a chuckle bubbled from deep in his chest. Rachel was in her command mode, giving orders as rapidly as she could think of them. Then more footsteps descended and other people—guys—were helping her get him dressed. Dry clothes. Wonderful dry clothes.

  “Here, sweetheart,” she said, brushing his lips with hers. “Drink this.”

  He turned toward her, eager to taste her, then inhaled the aroma of very good whiskey and swallowed it gladly. Heat penetrated his middle and meandered to his limbs. His nose began to tingle. Painfully.

  “Rachel,” he whispered, “I’ve got frostbite. Hands, feet, face.”

  “I’ll take a look at you upstairs,” said a familiar voice.

  “Doc? Doc Rosen?”

  “Well, of course,” replied Rachel. “Who else would I call?” She kissed his forehead. “We’re going to get you upstairs now,” she said. “It’s still raining, but we’ve got you totally covered up.”

  With Rachel’s and Doc’s coaching, he managed to stand. Then two young fellows half carried him from The Wanderer to the harbormaster’s office, and he didn’t get wet at all. Not even his frozen feet, because of the plastic bags Rachel had put over his woolen socks.

  “Just take me home,” he said, collapsing onto a chair. “To Sea View House.” He glanced up at Rachel and stopped breathing altogether. Tears flowed unabatedly down her cheeks.

  “Home?” Her voice cracked on the one syllable, her expression frightened and hopeful at the same time.

  He reached for her with a trembling arm. “Wherever you are, sweetheart, sweet Rachel. This sailor is home. For good.”

  “Well, not quite yet,” said Doc. “I’m admitting you to the hospital.”

  Too much to think about. Jack closed his eyes and knew nothing more.

  HE AWOKE TO BRIGHT DAYLIGHT coming through the windows of his room. An unfamiliar room where he lay in an unfamiliar bed. He wrinkled his nose at the scent of alcohol, then paused. His nose! He reached for it, and stilled suddenly. His hand was encased in cotton gloves. Slowly, he moved his fingers. They were stiff, but they moved with barely a tingle. Then he continued the journey to his nose. Stroked it and felt the stroke he made on it. Felt the taps he gave it on the tip. It wasn’t cold anymore, or numb, and it—he sniffed—seemed to work just fine.

  “Good morning.”

  He snapped his head around to the voice he loved. “Rachel?” His own voice rasped, and he reached for the cup of water he spotted on the tray next to his bed.

  She was there in an instant helping him, but looking pale, tired. He glanced behind her to a lounge chair with a blanket in it, and inclined his head. “All night?”

  “Of course, all night.” She placed the cup back on the table, leaned over the bed and kissed him gently on the mouth. “I love you, Jack. Why would I be anyplace else?”

  A kaleidoscope of mixed-up memories cascaded in his mind. “A light. I saw a light.”

  Her grin said everything.

  “That was you? The lens?”

  She nodded. “And I saw the orange flares. All three of them.”

  “Ahh, sweetheart. See how creatively we can communicate?” He opened his arms. “Come over here.”

  She lowered the railing and balanced herself lightly across his chest, nuzzling his neck in a way that reawakened other parts of his body.

  “I love you, Rachel Goodman. With everything that’s in me.”

  To his horror, she started to cry—again. “Woman! You’ve shed more tears in twenty-four hours than in twenty-four
years! What’s going on?”

  She just shook her head against his chest. “How can you love me after everything I said? And I’m so sorry about that because I love you so much and would never want to hurt you….” Her words ran on and on.

  “Shh. Shh. I’ve had lots of time to think. Maybe there was a kernel of truth in what you said. But it doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “You know what really doesn’t matter? How you shape your career. You do what you want to do, Jack. You’re so good at so many things, and some people don’t fit into a box. Your book was wonderful. Simply wonderful. I couldn’t put it down, and I’m not fourteen!”

  She was still running off at the mouth. He kissed her just to shut her up before she embarrassed him with praise. “Hey, no need to go overboard.”

  “Don’t even say that word around here!”

  They both started to laugh, then were silent, still sharing a smile while looking into each other’s eyes.

  “I love you, Rachel Goodman,” Jack said once more. “Marry me. Let’s make a home.”

  An eternity seemed to pass before she nodded. “Yes. Yes, of course I’ll marry you. I love you with all my heart. And I think it’s time for both of us to stop wandering.”

  Jack nodded. Rachel was exactly right. “Do you have your cell phone with you?”

  She retrieved it and started to pass it to him. He held up his gloved hands. “Would you punch in this number?”

  He took the phone in time to hear it ring before it was picked up. “Hi, Mom.”

  Rachel stood like a statue, eyes as big as silver dollars. He winked at her.

  “I’m just fine,” he answered into the phone, deciding his mother didn’t have to know where he was calling from. “In fact, Mom, I’m so fine you need to tell Dad to pick up the extension.”

  He watched Rachel pace. “Sweetheart, they’ve waited thirty-five years to hear this announcement from their only child. Let’s do it up big.”

  His dad came on the line. “Some good news? Another award? Another article?”

  “Better than awards,” Jack replied. He took a deep breath, excitement dancing through his body. “I’ve met someone. And I’m going to bring her home to meet you. Her name is Rachel.”

  “Oh, Jack” was all his mother managed to say.

  His dad broke in. “You tell Rachel that we love her already. She must be very special if you’re bringing her home.”

  “You’re absolutely right.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “I WANT TO MAKE LOVE to you more than I want anything else in the world.” Jack leaned against the pillow of his hospital bed after returning Rachel’s cell phone, and enjoyed watching the blush rise to her cheeks. Enjoyed more, the tilt of her chin, the shine in her eyes. And the sensuous way her tongue brushed against her lower lip.

  “Is there a lock on this door?” she whispered, bending over him until their mouths touched.

  “Who cares?” he replied. He yanked off the protective gloves and wrapped his arms around her, tugging gently until she rested against him. Warm and trusting. He kissed her hair, her neck, her cheek, and basked in her responses as he felt her shiver against him. He was more than ready to love her.

  “Jack,” she whispered. “Jack…”

  A heavy knock sounded at the door, immediately followed by a voice announcing, “You’re being discharged today. Doctor’s on his way.”

  Five minutes later, Doc Rosen and the weekend resident entered the room. “I’m just here to follow up,” said the older man. “At my old friend’s—” he looked at Rachel “—your father’s insistence.”

  Jack wiggled his fingers and toes. “I feel great,” he said, looking first at Max Rosen then at the medic in charge. “More than ready to leave.” Neither physician would ever know how very ready he was to find privacy at Sea View House. Privacy to make love to the love of his life. He figured a half hour at the most.

  Who knew signing papers, receiving instructions and getting the car would take thirty minutes? Who knew that when they were finally settled into the front seat of Rachel’s Explorer, she’d turn to him and say, “Don’t you think we should stop at my folks’ house and tell them our news?”

  “We told mine over the phone….” He looked at her suggestively, and she giggled like a blushing schoolgirl.

  “Yes, well they live a hundred and fifty miles away. Do you want to take the chance of my folks barging into Sea View House?”

  He winced at the thought. “Call them, tell them we’re getting married, and say we’ll be visiting them later today. That should hold them off.”

  Rachel’s eyes sparkled. “You’re a genius!” she replied, reaching for her phone.

  It didn’t take a genius to see that Rachel wanted to be alone with him…wanted him…as much as he wanted her. Just the thought made him too ready…. “I think I need a cold shower first,” he murmured.

  Rachel grinned. “No more cold water for you, sweetheart. But how about a hot shower…for two? And then a blazing fireplace…I’ve got lots of extra blankets for the floor…and later a glass of wine….”

  He felt his jaw drop open as Rachel continued. “I love you, Jack. These feeling inside…they’re more than I’ve ever had…they fill me up…it’s scary.”

  “Yeah,” he whispered. “I know exactly what you mean.”

  LATER THAT AFTERNOON, a beaming Pearl Goodman swung open her back door to welcome Rachel and Jack.

  “Mazel tov, mazel tov. Congratulations. Come in. Come in. We’re so happy for you.” She turned to her husband. “Look, Lou. She has the glow.”

  Rachel gasped. What glow? Could they tell she and Jack had made glorious, delicious, amazing love for the last three hours? How mortifying!

  “Relax.” Jack’s voice rumbled in her ear. “She’s talking about being in love, not about my delight in finally having the best pair of legs in New England wrapped around me the way I’ve dreamed about for months.”

  Now she felt the heat rush to her face. “Hush up!” But he laughed instead, put his arm around her and led her inside.

  “We’ve got a few guests,” said Pearl, giving Rachel and Jack each a hug. “Join us.”

  Before Rachel could ask a question, her parents disappeared toward the front of the house. From the living room, she heard a whirlwind of voices. She squeezed Jack’s arm and nodded toward the noise.

  “A few guests? She can’t count!”

  Immediately, comprehension registered in his expression.

  “Your mother works fast,” said Jack.

  “I know,” said Rachel, wrinkling her brow. “Smell those aromas? Look at the stove. She’s feeding an army.”

  “Good!” replied Jack, rubbing his stomach at the very moment they both heard it growl.

  Rachel took a step back and looked at the man she loved. “I honestly don’t know how Mom does it,” she said, “but I suppose I could make the attempt to learn….”

  She hadn’t expected Jack to laugh at her. “I’ll be happy if you don’t poison me!” he replied.

  She jabbed him with her elbow, and had to admit she was slightly relieved. “You do realize, Jack, that the best chefs in the world are men. And with your experience cooking things up in the lab…” Could she have given him a bigger hint?

  “You’re not scaring me, Rach,” he replied, bestowing a quick kiss on her mouth. “Now that I’ll be at home more and more, why not?”

  They hadn’t discussed his work. She twirled around and kissed him hard. “That’s for ‘being home more and more,’” she finally said, her voice catching, “not for the cooking.”

  She was rewarded with a hug.

  “I have no desire to sail away at the moment. No desire to go anywhere without you. So,” he said to her quietly, “how does living in Pilgrim Cove sound to you?”

  She stared at him, tongue-tied. Swallowed once, twice. “Not Boston?” she finally asked. “Or Maine, near the lobster coast?”

  “No,” he said. “Not necessary. Pilgrim
Cove is perfect for both of us. Handy for me in the middle of the New England coast. Handy for you in your current position. And perfect for perhaps…raising a family?”

  She heard the question in his voice. They hadn’t discussed children, hadn’t had time for anything but discovering their own love. But her heart soared.

  “Yes!” she gulped. “Yes. Definitely. A family.” She felt tears form. One dropped to her cheek. He kissed it away.

  “Hang tight and follow me,” he said, leading her into the living room. She went without a word.

  “Bartholomew Quinn,” he called.

  The agent turned toward him from halfway across the living room. “I hear you, Jack Levine.”

  “Do you happen to have any nice homes available near the marina?”

  Silence echoed in the room after Jack’s question. One of those pregnant silences that Rachel had read about but had never experienced until now.

  Silence, and then, pandemonium. From Susan and Alex, David and Jennifer, Doc and Marsha Rosen, Sam Parker, Chief O’Brien and Dee. And Kate and Mike Lyons, who’d been on the same ferry with Rachel the first time she came home.

  “Look at those two,” said Jack, pointing to Bart and Lou, who were walking toward each other, grinning like two schoolboys with a secret. Without a word, they shook hands, then clapped each other on the back with vigor.

  “That’s three in a row!” said Bart, crowing with pleasure. “Three in a row. First, Laura and Matt. Then Shelley and Daniel. And now Rachel and Jack. My, oh, my. It’s a lucky house, it is.”

  “Lucky?” asked Pearl. “Maybe. But hot? Definitely. Just like I said last summer, that house is hot!” Pearl’s contribution had Rachel groaning. But Jack chuckled and continued to hold her in his arms. “Enjoy the ROMEO and Company show,” he said.

  Sam Parker walked over to them, hand extended. “Congratulations to you both.” He kissed Rachel, then looked at Jack. “Lou tells me you’ve written a book for teens. And he tells me it’s good.”