Ethan (California Dreamy)

by Rian Kelley

  And that fact was startling. She had told him, in a moment of intense vulnerability, when he was poised to bare it all emotionally. But why hadn’t she told her sisters? Or her mother, who had spent twenty-plus years assisting in alternative deliveries? She hadn’t told Stevie, whose whole life personified alternative lifestyle.

  She hadn’t told, because she didn’t have the words. She didn’t want to have to defend her decision. She didn’t want to hear opposing arguments.

  Ethan’s suggestion that a traditional approach was the best way still rankled her.

  She wanted her baby to have a father, but her life didn’t turn out that way. And anyone could read the papers and figure out that many kids were without a steady male role model in their lives—not optimum, but reality. In Shae’s case, she was moving home, close to her father, her brother and her brother-in-law, and there would be plenty of males around to guide her child when needed. She had that kind of family—one that pitched in and supported each other.

  Still, she wasn’t looking forward to telling them.

  Shae crossed the Golden Gate Bridge at four-twenty in the afternoon, traffic already beginning to stack. She set aside her doubts and focused on the familiar scenery. She passed through rolling green hills and followed the freeway’s winding path to home.

  Shae entered a subdivision of two-story homes made of natural stone and wood. All had fireplaces and two-car garages. It wasn’t hard to spot the address she was looking for—Kara had already arrived and was chatting animatedly with the realtor. When Shae pulled up, they turned and smiled at her. Kara bounced on her toes and was on Shae the minute she left the car.

  And Shae felt her eyes burn with tears. She’d missed her sister’s hugs. The rosy smell of her skin. The smile that was all about the secrets they shared and the acts of mischief they had committed together. Shae was closer to Kara than any of her other siblings, probably because they were closest in age and shared a love of the arts. In Kara’s case, it was music, but it was the passion that gave them a deeper bond.

  “It’s good to see you,” Shae murmured into her sister’s hair as she held her close. “Where are the kids?”

  They stepped back from each other and Kara’s smiled deepened.

  “At home with Tim. He’s even making them dinner. All by microwave, but I’ve learned to appreciate that and any other conveniences that provides me with a little free time.”

  “Hey, I’m really good at pressing numbers,” Shae agreed. “On the microwave and the cell phone. Nothing wrong with a little take-out.”

  Kara raised her hand and declared herself guilty of the same go-to. But then her sister’s eyes filled with seriousness. “Why are you coming home, Shae?” Kara asked. “You know I’m dying for you to come back. We all are. It just seems sudden.”

  Shae shrugged. “I’ve made it. It was a lot of work and I loved almost every minute of it, but it’s a lonely town, Kara.”

  Her sister was a taller, slimmer version of Shae. She frowned and her blue eyes squinted when she asked, “Are you quitting?”

  “Never,” Shae assured her. “But I can write from here and head back to L.A. when needed.”

  Her sister considered that then asked, “Are you running from something? Or someone?” She laughed a little nervously and explained, “Just covering all the bases.”

  “Running towards something,” Shae admitted.

  “What?”

  “Let’s talk about it later, okay?”She looked up at the house. It was two story, stucco but lacking the Spanish detailing of Ethan’s home. It had the four bedrooms, three baths she asked for and a big back yard, too. “I want to see the house.” And ground herself in something attainable.

  Her sister fell into step beside her and Shae turned to the real estate agent. “Thank you for arranging this on short notice.”

  “No problem,” the woman assured her. “The house is vacant and the owners are dying to sell.”

  Kara squeezed her arm. “That means you can go in low. Not a bad start.”

  They entered into a foyer with tiled flooring and a cathedral ceiling. To the right, a staircase ascended upward and curved to a landing that provided a sitting nook before branching off in a hall with three bedrooms and a Jack and Jill bath. The agent swung open each door and Shae stepped inside. The rooms were spacious and the natural lighting sufficient, she just didn’t get the feeling of home. Not yet. The walls needed fresh paint and she would have to purchase new, trendier ceiling fans. Switch plates and other tweaks would also add her touch to the place.

  They went back downstairs and through the great room. The focal point was a stone fireplace. The kitchen was huge, with marble surfaces and a stainless steel double oven, built-in espresso maker and hidden pantry. The island sat four, had a gas grill and an outlet for smaller appliances.

  Her sister fluttered around the room, opening the ovens which were sparkling clean, running the faucet in the sink, sticking her head in the fridge.

  “It’s so clean and has everything you could want.” Kara’s voice was bubbling with enthusiasm.

  Yes, all the things Shae had asked for were present, plus some.

  She even felt excitement begin a slow-burn in her belly. Maybe this was the house. She walked to the glass doors.

  “These are accordion,” the realtor said. “They open flush, so you’ll have an undisturbed view of the back yard and easy flow when you’re entertaining.”

  Shae stepped through the doors onto a redwood deck that was well-preserved and provided enough space for outdoor dining.

  “Is this a barbecue?” Kara gasped, nearly running over to a stone and steel grill that was easily eight feet long. She bent at the waist and opened a door. “A refrigerator? Oh, Tim is going to be so green if you end up buying this place. He’s wanted outdoor entertaining for as long as I’ve known him.”

  “You have a fire pit over here, too,” the agent pointed out. “You could put seating here and with the arbor—” she pointed to the shelter overhead and the greenery woven into its lattice work, “you’ll be plenty cool in the summer.”

  The rest of the yard was rectangular, manicured and Shae could easily picture an elaborate play structure with swings and slides and a club house, where her child could while away time dreaming of pirates or tea parties or whatever.

  ‘We still have the master suite to look at. Comes with an office,” the agent promised.

  Shae followed and Kara made a lot of appreciative noises, but in the end, Shae was unable to commit.

  “I need to see a few more before I decide,” she told the realtor.

  “Of course,” she agreed. “But does this make the list, or is it a ‘no.’”

  “Oh, it makes the list. For sure,” Shae said. “I head back to L.A. on Monday—any chance of seeing another home before then?”

  “I’ve already got one lined up. Tomorrow at ten. Then we have several open houses set for Sunday. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.”

  Shae confirmed with her and then she and Kara climbed into the rental car Shae picked up at the airport and headed to dinner.

  “So, why are you moving home?” Kara returned to their earlier conversation.

  Shae blew a heavy breath. “Family,” she said. “I want one, you know? I want a child, Kara. To hold in my arms. To share with and raise and love.”

  Kara sat back, her eyes round.

  “Are you pregnant?”

  “Not yet.”

  “But you have plans?”

  “Already in motion.”

  “You want to share those?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Do you have someone special in your life?” she pressed.

  “That’s a tough one to answer,” Shae admitted. “I have someone who could become special.” So easily. “But he’s not emotionally available.”

  “Why not?”

  “He has. . .baggage.”

  Kara waved that away. “We all do.”

  “His has a litt
le more than most.”

  “Then he needs to deal with it and move on.”

  “He is.”

  “And you don’t think he’s worth the wait?’

  Shae felt the air grow thick in her lungs, her pulse kick against her temples. She would wait for Ethan if she knew, when he surfaced from the mire of his past, that they had a viable future together. That guarantee thing again. She’d told Ethan that nothing was for sure and he should give up the idea of control. Did she need to listen to her own advice?

  “He told me flat-out he can’t give me what I want.” He’d told her several times, in different ways, and while she’d begun to wonder if he was doing it more to remind himself, he had made no promises, hadn’t even hinted at the future. Shae steered the conversation onto what she could control. “I want a baby, Kara,” Shae said. “I want it like you want Carnegie hall.”

  “Well, that’s a dream long past.”

  “It doesn’t have to be,” Shae pressed.

  Kara shook her head, refusing to think about it. “This is about you, Shae. Does he know you want a baby?”

  Shae nodded. She felt the fluttering of her heart in her throat and pushed back tears. “From the beginning.”

  “And it’s not something he wants?”

  How could he? He was still dealing with infidelity, his wife’s pregnancy by another man, and the loss of both.

  “No.”

  “And he knows it’s non-negotiable, as far as you’re concerned?”

  “I’ve been clear on that.”

  “Well, the man is blind. And stupid, too.” Kara shook her head.

  Shae slid into a parking spot on the street and climbed out of the car. Over the hood, Kara said,

  “So he knows he’s at a crossroads? That any decision he makes now will define his future? That procrastination will only seal his fate?”

  Shae wanted to laugh at her sister’s drama, but the truth was, Shae felt that she stood in exactly that spot herself. Part of her wanted to choose Ethan, to pursue him and see if they had something that lasted; the other part knew that if she gave up her dream of motherhood she would regret it for the rest of her life.

  “Yep.”

  They walked inside the restaurant and chose a table in the bar. Shae picked up the drink menu but Kara wasn’t ready to drop the conversation.

  “So let’s flush him and work on what you can have,” she suggested.

  “Exactly my thinking.” Sort of.

  “Have you looked into fertility clinics?”

  “It’s a done deal,” Shae assured her. She didn’t go into specifics because it seemed way too personal, even with her sister, and Kara didn’t pressure her. She reached for her bar menu and announced,

  “Fine. So tonight we’ll get drunk and tomorrow we’ll get busy. We have a lot of shopping to do. Babies cost a lot, not that you need to worry about that. But they go through clothes and diapers by the hour.” She caught her breath and continued, leaning over the table, “I want to buy your baby his first sleeper. His first stuffie, too.” She gave Shae a raised eyebrow. “You haven’t already done that, have you?”

  “Without you? Never.” Shae smiled, thankful for her sister in new ways.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ethan stood on the balcony, his back to the door, and watched the surf roll in along the silver sands of Coronado. He’d found what he was looking for, a support group for military personnel, some active, others retired, all seeking peace with a past they had difficulty reconciling with their present. He’d come back to San Diego for it, because it was home and because it gave him certain anonymity. He was far more recognizable in the small fish bowl of Hollywood than anywhere else in the world.

  He heard footsteps on the stairs, but didn’t turn. The breeze felt good on his face, salty and damp. And when he turned, it would be the start of something new. He supposed he had as much nerves about the unfamiliar as most people. But that he could shrug off and dive into, which was his way. It was the sharing of experiences, the exposing of himself anew, and it already felt a whole lot better when it was Shae he was talking to than the group he was about to meet.

  “Still making up your mind? Or waiting until the last possible minute before your nails are ripped from your fingers?” The scratchy words were accompanied by a drift of laughter.

  Ethan took a last full breath of sea air and turned.

  The man who had joined him still had the military posture—squared shoulders and starch in his joints—but was old enough retirement probably happened to him years ago. His face was lined, his smile genuine.

  “Is it going to be that bad?”

  “The first time is always the most uncomfortable.”

  “So, yeah,” Ethan agreed. “I am putting off the inevitable.”

  “How long were you in, son?”

  “Six years, Sir.”

  He waved that away. “No Sir-crap here.” He extended his hand. “Jim. I was a lifer. Put in twenty-two years, total.”

  “You run this group?”

  More laughter. “No. I spent more time running away from it. Kind of used to it now, though.” He pulled his wallet out of a pocket and shared some photos. His wife of twenty-seven years; a daughter and her two children. “Coming here is one of those things where it’s got to hurt if it’s going to work. But it’s worth it.”

  Yeah, exactly. Shae was worth it. So was his freedom. And he wanted it so he could explore all the possibilities with Shae.

  She wasn’t coming back. She hadn’t said as much, but he felt it. She’d called and told him she was staying longer than expected. She was visiting with family and looking at houses. He’d heard indecision in her voice, yearning even, and that was how he knew she wouldn’t return. She wanted Ethan but believed the situation was impossible. And he’d given her nothing to change her mind. So he would go to her, and he needed to arrive with something of value. A commitment. He wanted that. He’d wanted it before he’d met Shae; he burned for it now, with her. But this time, he needed to make sure he could stick to it. Honor it. Her.

  Shae.

  “You got that right,” Ethan agreed.

  More steps sounded on the stairs and Jim reached for the door. “Come in when you’re ready,” he invited.

  Ethan wouldn’t be more ready than this moment. He followed Jim into a small office cluttered with furniture. In fact, a sofa and chairs were the only pieces in the small room. No filing cabinet or desk; no pictures on the walls—not even a calendar. One wall was a large window that looked out on the Pacific. Two men and a woman were already seated and they greeted Jim with friendliness, then looked at Ethan with open curiosity.

  He introduced himself. First name only, that seemed to be the norm here. One of the men led the group, but from a position of experience, he said. Ethan sat and listened to the idle chatter as the chairs filled up and the room grew thick with body heat. Someone stood and opened a window and, to Ethan, it felt like the sudden release of pressure.

  The group seemed to move naturally from casual talk to the pursuit of something more—progress. Yes, Ethan could see it in even the smallest question.

  “Mary, how did the family picnic go last weekend?”

  It was their first extended family gathering since returning from her most recent deployment.

  “Better than I’d thought.” She smiled. She was a pretty young lady and was joined by her husband, a civilian.

  Her husband agreed. “She warmed up fast. She kind of took command, you know? Walked right up to the family, put the salad on the table, greeted her sisters. Hugs and before long she was laughing, playing with the kids.”

  Things Ethan hadn’t managed to do after his deployments.

  Mary nodded. “I did what you said. I went in knowing what I wanted and how to get it. And totally okay with it taking more than one or two minutes.”

  And that was where Ethan had dropped the ball. He’d come back from the Middle East numb, not knowing what he wanted other than that elusi
ve normal. But what was normal? He didn’t remember ever naming it. Only that he wanted it, and that it should have happened the moment he stepped on familiar soil.

  Looking back now, hearing it in someone else’s words, made him realize that nothing was a given and anything worth having required work. A very simple sentiment but easily forgotten, especially with those things we hold close and dear and expect to just happen for us.

  He’d thought things should have fallen into place when he returned from each of his deployments and was mystified when they hadn’t. Confusion became disappointment and finally distance.

  Chad was right. Loss had a geography. It could be mapped. Each fissure of the heart followed to its origin, where understanding waited.

  “You look like you’ve had a revelation,” the leader addressed Ethan.

  Ethan nodded. “I remember coming home and nothing felt right, like I thought it should

  feel.” So he understood the need to name what he wanted. To be specific about it. But what about those tools? “But how did you know how to get what you wanted?”

  And that began a discussion on the means of achieving goals. It wasn’t particular to returning military, they were the same approaches used by individuals who managed to achieve success in the business world in their personal lives.

  “What do you want, Ethan?”

  He wanted to cast off the past and build a future. “A relationship that lasts. That goes deep. That survives even a blast at ground zero.” He wanted Shae. He missed her laughter, her courage and her soft, compassionate nature. And it’d only been a week since he’d seen her.

  “The first two are attainable. The last is a matter of faith.”

  Exactly as Shae had said. His faith had taken a serious hit during his time in the Middle East and was destroyed when he’d discovered Tina’s betrayal. But he wanted to believe in what Shae offered. In what he’d felt building between them.

  And so Ethan dug in. Using Chad’s analogy, he dumped his pack and took a stand.

  Shae took a seat at the patio table, between Kara and their mother.