by Nola Cross
He checked in with himself, seeking out any last remnants of the despair and guilt that had haunted him in the weeks following the accident. He focused on Jasmine’s injuries, her slow progress back toward normalcy. To his relief, his sense of peace prevailed. In fact, he felt only optimism about the little girl’s future.
During these sessions with Dr. Wellington, he’d learned something about himself. He’d discovered he had a penchant for taking on other people’s problems, for being hyper-responsible. She’d told him it was typical of first-born sons. The hypnosis had helped him immensely but it was something he’d have to guard against in the future.
He gave her a wide smile. “I think we’re done. I can always come back again if I need to.”
“That’s right.” She handed him a CD in a paper sleeve. “And how are things between you and Sunny now? Any better?”
He shook his head. “Still very strained. We’ve run into each other a couple of times at the hospital when Spencer and I stopped in to see Jasmine. She was polite, but she made it clear we’re not going to pick up where we left off.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks.” He shrugged, giving her a bleak smile. “I’m not giving up. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, after all.”
“Good for you.”
He stood and shook Dr. Wellington’s hand. “Thanks for everything, doctor.”
“My pleasure, Ben. Best of luck to you.”
* * * *
Sunny placed the stack of children’s books in the bottom of the canvas bag and added Jasmine’s box of crayons and drawing tablet. “Is this everything?”
Jasmine nodded. “I want to carry Miracle. She wants to ride down in the wheelchair with me.”
“Okay.” Miracle was the name recently given to the WonderTales Pony Jasmine had hung on to like a talisman these past five weeks. “But let’s put her grooming set into the bag, shall we? That way we won’t lose it.”
Jasmine handed her the little pouch of tiny brushes and combs. “Where’s Spencer? Is he going to ride home with me? He said he wanted to.”
“I think he must be in school today. You’ll see him soon, I’m sure.”
Jasmine’s face fell. “But I wanted Spencer to ride home with me.”
“I’m sure he’ll be by to see you—”
“Who’ll be by to see this girl? Her daddy?” Charles’s fake laugh boomed behind Sunny, filling the small room.
“Daddy!” Jasmine’s face lit up and she clapped her hands. “Guess what, Daddy? I get to go home today.”
“I know,” he said, his eyes fixing on Sunny’s face. “The hospital discharge planner called me.”
“She did? I really need to get our contact information updated.” Sunny went on packing Jasmine’s things, trying to ignore his presence. What did he want this time? She was sure she’d find out soon enough. At least there was no sign of Sharina today.
“Daddy, did you know I get to ride to the car in a wheelchair?”
“Sure, Jazz. That’s great.” He shuffled his feet and leaned back against the wall with his arms crossed, never even looking toward the little girl. Finally he took a couple of steps toward Sunny, forcing her to look up. “So, baby, did you think any more about my suggestion of filing that lawsuit? I understand Jasmine’s going to need extra care for quite a while, maybe years.”
She faced him, her blood coming to an instant boil. “I told you, Charles, no. There’s excellent insurance coverage to pay for all of that. We don’t need to profit from someone else’s misfortune.”
“Dude ran the stop sign. He should pay.”
“Maybe you don’t know Mr. Stewart has been here to see us several times. He feels awful about it. Everyone makes mistakes. There’s no reason to add to his troubles.”
Jasmine piped up. “He’s a nice man, Daddy. He brought me a doll.”
“I’m not talking to you right now, little girl.”
Sunny cringed at the disrespect in his voice. As Jasmine’s face crumpled, Sunny turned and pushed the door to the corridor closed. Then she whirled around to face him again, stomping her booted foot on the floor.
“That’s it! I’ve had it with you, Charles. The only reason you come around is to see what might be in it for you. You wanna know what’s in it for you? How about a sweet little girl who needs a dad she can count on?” By now, Jasmine was crying, hugging her toy horse. “If you can’t be that, then get the hell out of our lives and stay out!”
Sunny felt a wave of nausea rise in her throat as she glared at her ex-husband. Had she really just totally lost it in front of Jasmine? That wasn’t like her at all. She needed to rein in her anger for Jasmine’s sake.
Charles held her stare for a few seconds, then his eyes shifted away. He licked his lips and said in a hoarse whisper, “The thing is, I could really use some cash.”
“We all could,” she said caustically.
“See, that’s just what I was saying. Some for me and some for you, baby.” A sly smile played at his lips.
“Not interested.” She made her voice granite, then turned away, put a tissue to Jasmine’s nose and waited while she blew. After a moment Sunny turned back and folded her arms across her chest. “Why are you still here, Charles?”
He seemed to be about to say something else. Then he sneered at her, pushed away from the wall, and flung the door open. He left, not even bothering to tell Jasmine goodbye.
Sunny took a deep breath, struggling to stop the shaking in her body.
“Why was Daddy so mad at me?” Jasmine’s voice was quivering too.
“He wasn’t mad, babydoll. He was scared. Sometimes grown-ups get scared and then they yell.”
“You yelled,” she pointed out.
“I did, didn’t I? I’m sorry.” She drew Jasmine into a bear hug, stroking her hair. “So, so sorry,” she sang softly, kissing the top of the little girl’s head.
“When can we go home, Mama?”
“We’re just waiting for Dr. Joffman to sign the release papers. Should be any minute now.”
There was a quiet knock behind her. Expecting the doctor, Sunny turned to find Beverly Stillman standing there instead. The woman gave her an anxious smile. “May I come in?”
“Of course.” Now what? What reason could Ben’s mother possibly have for being there? It had been three weeks since the awful scene in the Stillman living room. In that time she’d had her work cut out for her fending off Ben’s attempts at reconciliation. The last thing she wanted was to have to deal with the judgmental matron of the Stillman family.
“Is this lovely young lady Miss Jasmine? Hello there. My name is Beverly. I’m Spencer’s grandma.”
Jasmine sat up straight and shook the woman’s hand. “Hello. Is Spencer with you?”
“I’m afraid not. But he’s told me all about you. He says you’re his very best friend.”
“That’s right. I am. I miss him.”
“And he misses you too.”
Sunny listened warily. What was Ben’s mom up to? “Can I help you, Beverly?”
This time when the older woman looked at her, her blue eyes glittered with unshed tears. “I came to ask your forgiveness.”
It was the last thing Sunny had expected. She stood speechless while Beverly went on.
“I really don’t have an excuse for those thoughtless things I said, except to say I’m a product of an older generation. I remember forced integration and the race riots of the 60s.” She took a deep breath and continued. “And even though things are gradually changing, I imagine it must still be rough for an interracial couple sometimes.”
“I suppose it might be,” Sunny said.
“Anyway, I realized that I misjudged you, misjudged the strength of your relationship with my son. Spencer has told me so many wonderful things about you and Jasmine. It seems like you and Ben and the kids are already a family. I had no right to try and break you all up, especially at a time when you really need each other.”
Sunny�
��s throat tightened. She had to force the words out. “Actually, you were right about my troubles being mine and not Ben’s. He deserves an easier relationship, especially after what happened with his first wife.”
“What my son deserves is someone who really loves him. Like I believe you do.” Beverly took a step toward her, a shy smile on her face.
“I don’t think it’s quite that simple,” Sunny said. She really didn’t want to like this woman.
“It can be.” Beverly shrugged. “Real love isn’t very complicated.”
“Do you think that’s true?”
“I know it is. From everything I’ve heard, you’re all so good for each other. I’m sorry it took me so long to come and see you.”
Beverly’s chin quivered, and before she realized what she was doing, Sunny pulled the older woman into a hug. They both burst into tears.
Jasmine tugged on Sunny’s sweater. “Why are you crying, Mama?”
“Well, Jasmine, are you about ready to go home?” Dr. Joffman asked from the doorway.
Chapter 9
The afternoon was mild and traffic fairly light as they drove across town. From the back seat, Jasmine chattered happily about her plans for the coming days. She could hardly wait to go back to school. Worry tickled at the edge of Sunny’s mind. Would Jasmine be able to keep up with her classmates? Her mental impairment didn’t appear to be nearly as bad as it might have been, but she had missed six weeks of school and still had short periods of confusion and memory loss. Sunny had already filed an accommodation plan with Jasmine’s teacher, so the little girl could leave class to attend her continuing language therapy. The two of them would work together to help her get caught up.
Thank God there had been no serious physical injuries. That would have put her even farther behind. There was so much to be grateful for today. Not the least of which was Beverly Stillman’s unexpected visit. A lump formed in Sunny’s throat. There were so many unknowns that stood between her and Ben now. Was his mom right? Did he miss her, want her back? Or had he decided to move on without her?
How could she have been so selfish? Would he be willing to forgive her for pushing him away at a time when he probably needed her as much as she had needed him? She didn’t have the slightest idea how to begin patching things up with him.
“Can we call Ben when we get home?”
Startled, Sunny glanced in the rearview mirror. Was her daughter psychic?
“I want him to bring Spencer over. Can he stay for dinner?” Jasmine went on.
“We’ll see,” she said. Her heart began to pound at the idea that she might see Ben tonight. Maybe there was still a chance for them. Maybe he’d forgive her. “He has to. That’s all there is to it,” she muttered.
“What, Mama?”
“Nothing. Nothing.”
Finally they threaded their way through their own quiet neighborhood. How odd. Ahead of them there seemed to be a knot of people standing in the street. What was going on? Would she be able to pull into her driveway?
As she neared her house she recognized the pale blue SUV parked out front.
Ben!
And strung above her driveway, supported by sturdy wooden poles sunk into the ground, was a twenty-foot pink paper banner sporting a border of frilly hearts and the words: SUNNY AND JASMINE, WILL YOU BE OUR VALENTINES?
“Look, Mama!” Jasmine pointed at the banner. “Who put that big sign in front of our house?” Slowly she sounded the words out.
“I imagine it was Ben.”
“I want to say yes,” Jasmine crowed. “I want to be their valentines. Don’t you?”
Without answering, Sunny pulled in and parked beneath the banner. She looked around but there was no sign of Ben. As she emerged from the car, the little crowd of neighbors clapped and whistled. She waved and smiled. “Thank you,” she called out as they began to disperse. She went to Jasmine’s door and let her out, then walked to the trunk to get their things.
“Anything I can help you with?”
She turned and he was there, walking toward her, tall in the afternoon sunlight, his gold hair ruffling in the faint breeze. He wore a suit and tie as if for a special occasion. Her heart squeezed. It had only been a week or so since the last time their paths had crossed at the hospital. How could she have forgotten how handsome he was?
She’d barely even acknowledged him that day. She’d been a real bitch. And yet here he was with his banner and his suit and his hopeful smile. She didn’t deserve him.
“Sure,” she said, and stepped back to let him gather their bags. “That’s quite a banner. Where did you get it?”
“I had it made by one of the specialty printing companies we use.”
They walked together toward the house with Jasmine trailing. Sunny took her key from her purse.
“It really makes a statement,” Sunny said. “My neighbors will probably never get over it.”
“Well, I love it, Ben,” Jasmine piped up.
He stopped and transferred everything to one arm, then held out his free hand to her. When he smiled down at her, the little girl slipped her hand into his.
Sunny’s heart hammered. In all the excitement of Jasmine’s homecoming, she’d forgotten it was Valentine’s Day, a day for wild, romantic gestures like twenty-foot banners. Should she drop everything and just throw herself into his arms the way she wanted to?
She got to the door first. As she put the key into the lock the door suddenly swung open. Spencer stood inside, grinning up at them. He was also dressed to the nines in a suit and tie that matched his father’s.
“Hi, Sunny. Welcome home, Jasmine,” he said very formally. He turned to his dad, looking anxious. “Did I say that right, Dad?”
“Perfect, buddy.”
“Spencer!” Jasmine let go of Ben’s hand and hugged her friend tight. Uncomplicated joy glowed from their little faces, melting Sunny’s heart. If only she and Ben could find their way back to each other just as simply.
“Come see the table.” Spencer pulled on Jasmine’s hand and they all trooped through the kitchen—which was full of mysterious, delicious smells—and into the dining room. The long table was covered with a red cloth and set with her best china and silver. Pink candles flickered in her favorite pair of candlesticks on either side of a large bouquet of red roses.
She turned to Ben, who waited in the doorway. “It’s lovely! How did you get this all set up?”
He spoke at last, a pleased smile beginning to play on his lips. “You told me where you keep your spare key. Remember when I came to feed Mr. Trix?”
As if on cue the cat strolled out of the hallway and began to rub along his pants leg. Sunny looked down and laughed. Apparently Ben had gotten over his allergy to cats. Then she took a closer look. Something new twinkled at the cat’s neck.
“What’s that on his collar?”
She picked up Mr. Trix. A circular pewter charm was affixed to his collar by a little clip.
“What is it?” She looked toward Ben.
He stepped close to her and unclipped the charm, holding it out in his open palm. “Can’t you tell? It’s a tiny inner tube. It goes on the charm bracelet I gave you at Christmas.”
Sunny fingered the gray circlet. Ben bent his head close. She smelled the wonderful warm scent of his aftershave. Her heart banged painfully in her chest.
“You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to go back to that day at the snow park, Sunny.”
She nodded, afraid to look into his eyes. “It was a wonderful day.”
“But we can’t go back. We can only move forward.”
She nodded again. Finally gathering her courage, she lifted her gaze to his. His eyes were full of sorrow and hope.
“Do you think we can start again, Ben?”
He searched her face. “I want to. But do you?”
“I do. I’m so sorry I pushed you away.”
Before she could say another word he pulled her into the safe harbor of his arms. “Thank God,” he w
hispered against her hair, just before his lips found hers. Sunny melted into his embrace, wondering how she could ever have deprived herself of his love.
Twenty minutes later they were seated at the dinner table, thick juicy steaks and baked potatoes steaming on their plates.
“Even I can cook steaks and potatoes,” Ben said proudly as he passed the sour cream. There was a simple lettuce wedge salad on the side and store-bought cheesecake for dessert.
“It’s perfect,” Sunny said.
“Yummy,” Jasmine said as she forked in a bite that Ben had cut for her.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Ben took an envelope from his breast pocket and laid it beside Sunny’s plate.
“What’s this?”
“It’s something I read about when I was researching recovery from brain injury. This place is only twenty minutes outside of town. The brochure lists all the benefits that riding offers.”
Sunny unfolded the letter. It was a receipt for six months of riding sessions at Healing Winds Therapeutic Riding Stable. Her fingers flew to her lips. She could hardly speak.
“For Jasmine?”
“Who else? I thought she’d enjoy riding on a full-sized Miracle. And Spencer can come along too on some of the sessions.”
“I don’t know what to say, Ben. It’s so generous of you.”
“We’re in this together, aren’t we, Sunny?”
“Yes. Yes, we are.” She turned toward Jasmine, who sat right up close to Spencer on one side of the table. The two of them were busy giggling over a private joke, oblivious to their parents. She turned back to Ben. “I guess I’ll tell her later.”
“That’s fine. There’s plenty of time. You can schedule the lessons whenever it works for you.”
“I’ll probably wait for better weather.” She reached across and laid her hand on his. His skin was warm and firm, his fingers strong. “I’m ready to answer your question now.”
“Question?”
“The one on that gigantic pink banner across my driveway.”
“Oh. Right.” He grinned and she wanted to kiss the beautiful crinkles at the edges of his eyes.
