by Lyn Cote
“Patience! Gil!” Bunny called from the kitchen. “Coreena just called. She’s at the E.R. with Darby.”
At Gil’s side, Patience entered the brightly lit emergency entrance at the small local hospital. His ex-wife and her boyfriend were pacing the corridor. Coreena’s eyes were swollen and red from crying. Blaine stood beside her, grim and protective.
Patience offered him her hand. “What happened?”
“Yes, what happened?” Gil echoed her.
Patience recognized the tight rein Gil was exerting over his tone of voice. Not a note of condemnation contaminated his concern for his son. Thank you, Father. Don’t let Darby be seriously hurt and don’t let what had happened spoil the healing You’ve begun between Gil and Coreena.
“Darby,” Blaine said, a touch of defensiveness in his voice, “was outside playing in the snow.”
“At this hour?” Gil objected.
“It’s a holiday,” Blaine growled. “The kid could stay up as long as he wanted.”
“He was right in my small yard.” Coreena sniffled into a crushed tissue. “I’d just told him he had another five minutes and then he had to come in for hot cocoa and bed.”
“Anyway—” Blaine picked up the thread “—he climbed up the metal steps and for some reason decided to use the railing as a monkey bar. He hooked his knees on top and tried to do a complete circle around. He ended up hitting his forehead as he swung down.”
“There was blood everywhere,” Coreena moaned.
“I told her head wounds bleed a lot,” Blaine continued, putting an arm around Coreena. “That some ice and an antiseptic would take care of it. But she wanted a doctor to look him over—”
“I didn’t know how hard he hit his head.” Coreena’s voice shook. “He might have gotten a concussion—”
“No concussion,” a doctor interrupted them, coming out of an examining area only a few feet away. “I didn’t even put in any stitches. I just used some butterfly bandages. The edges of the wound were clean and were already pulling back together.”
Patience sighed her relief.
“You mean it’s not serious?” Coreena began weeping harder.
“No, just normal kid stuff.” The young doctor grinned. “You can take him home. He’ll be fine. He’ll just have an interesting scar over one eyebrow. It’ll give his face character.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Coreena said, shaking his hand.
Gil echoed this, visibly relaxing at Patience’s side.
The doctor hurried to a nurse who was motioning for him.
“Well, let’s get our boy,” Blaine said, waving his hand toward the examining area the doctor had come from.
Patience took Gil’s hand and led him to Darby.
The little guy looked tired. A bandaged cut over one eyebrow was stark against his pale face. “Hi, Daddy.”
Coreena took one of her son’s hands and Darby reached for Patience’s hand. “Hi, Miss Andrews. I got hurt.”
“I know. But you’re going to be fine, the doctor says.” Patience smoothed back his hair.
Coreena mimicked the action on the other side of his head.
“Mommy, Miss Andrews is my friend,” Darby said.
Coreena looked at Patience. “I know she is.”
“Darn right she is,” Blaine rumbled from behind.
Patience smiled over her shoulder at the big man.
Gil cleared his throat. “We’re sorry you had to get hurt on Christmas Eve, son.”
Darby nodded. “Mommy, can we go home now?”
Coreena looked at Gil. “I guess I shouldn’t have bothered you, but I thought you’d want to know…”
“I appreciate it.” Gil patted his son’s back and then touched Coreena’s shoulder. “You go home with your mom and get to sleep. Santa can’t come unless you’re in bed and snoring, you know.”
Darby gave his dad a faint grin. “You’re not mad at me?”
Gil moved forward and lifted his son into his arms for a quick hug. “Accidents happen, Darby. Just be more careful next time, okay? I think you scared your mom.”
Patience silently rejoiced at Gil’s every healing word.
“That’s for sure,” Coreena muttered.
Gil hugged his son once more and then turned and offered him to Blaine. The big man lifted Darby into his arms and gave Gil a gruff nod.
The five of them trailed out into the cold, windy night, and after exchanging “Merry Christmases” hurried through the wind to their vehicles. Gil drove away.
“Thanks for not being angry with Coreena.” Patience sighed long and low. “She looked crushed.”
Gil reached for Patience’s hand and squeezed it. She leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. It had been quite a Christmas Eve. Fatigue stole away her starch and she gave a languid sigh.
Shortly, Gil pulled up in front of Bunny’s house and parked. He kept the engine running, with the heater holding the harsh cold at bay. Houses up and down the street glowed with colorful Christmas lights, bathing them in a holiday radiance.
She reached for the door handle, suddenly shy with this man. Did I really let him kiss me? “You don’t need to walk me—”
“Wait. Patience, I have something for you.” He pulled out a small jewelry box and handed it to her.
Her heart hammered, sending out the alarm she always experienced when a man got too close to her heart. Don’t offer me a ring. You said we’d take our time. “Gil, I don’t have anything for you,” she objected, trying to make this act seem less momentous.
“Open it,” he begged. “Please.”
“But…” She tried to hand the box back to him, her hand trembling.
Raising a shoulder, he braced his hands on the steering wheel. “Open it.”
She stared at his unrelenting profile and then at the tiny velvet box. Seconds ticked by on the green-glowing dashboard clock. At last, she untied the thin silver bow and opened the ring case. “Oh, Gil, it’s lovely.” Not what I feared at all.
“It’s a vintage art deco ring, white-gold filigree and diamond chips. Try it on. We may have to have it sized.”
“But Gil, this must have cost you a fortune.” She tried to fight the elegant ring’s attraction, but she was sunk. She wanted this ring, longed to wear it.
“I bought it at Caruthers’s shop.” Gil still faced forward. “And the cost doesn’t matter. Put it on.” Then he glanced at her.
Lord, is this what you want? Should I accept this gift? Feeling as in a dream, she started to slip the ring on her right hand.
“No, put it on your left ring finger.” Gil slid closer to her. Would she accept it, him? “It’s a promise ring.”
“A promise ring?” She paused, holding the ring up in the dim light.
“Yes, when the time comes, when we’ve taken time to get to know each other and trust each other, I’ll replace it with an engagement ring.” When she didn’t reply, he coaxed, “Please, Patience, just give us a chance.”
She offered the ring back to him.
His heart fell.
“If it’s a promise ring,” she murmured, “then shouldn’t you place it on my finger?”
Relief and joy surged through him, speeding his pulse. He took the ring and slid it onto the third finger of her left hand. “It’s a perfect fit,” he said, feeling how dry his mouth was.
She nodded.
He leaned toward her and silently asked permission.
She blushed and slanted forward, offering him her lips.
“Thank you, Patience,” he whispered and kissed her. Thank you, Lord, for second chances.
Gil steeled himself to the task before him. It was 8:00 a.m. on Christmas morning. Within an hour, he’d be picking up Darby and bringing him home for Christmas. On their way, he would pick up Patience so she could watch his son open his presents. But before another day passed that held the possibility of Darby’s being wounded, he needed to have it out once and for all with his father.
He knocked on the
Captain’s back door and waited in the winter chill.
His dad opened the door. “What do you want?” he barked.
“We need to talk.” Gil pushed his way into the house.
“Have you come to apologize for the scene you created last night?” the Captain demanded.
“I could ask you the same question. No, I’ve come to tell you how it’s going to be from now on.” Gil pulled off his leather gloves.
“So you’ve assumed command here?” his father objected.
“I’m in command of my life and my son, so you need to know about a few changes I’m making.”
“What changes?”
“Last night I asked Patience to allow me to—” Gil groped for the right word “—court her.”
“Well, good,” the Captain blustered. “About time—”
“I’m glad you approve—”
“Bunny thinks highly of Patience. She’s worth a hundred of your first wife.”
“That’s enough. No more Coreena-bashing.” Gil’s hands became fists. “She is Darby’s mother and if you keep this up, you’re the one who’s going to lose. No boy is going to let anyone speak against his mother. Didn’t you hear him yelling, ‘My mommy doesn’t have bad blood’?”
A taut silence.
“Yes,” the Captain finally admitted, scowling. “But it’s the truth. Why you ever married that—”
“I wouldn’t have married Coreena,” Gil interrupted, “if you hadn’t made her irresistible by telling me how bad she would be for me.”
“So it’s my fault you married her?” The Captain glared.
“No.” Gil inhaled, pushing down his aggravation. “That was my decision and I’m the one, along with Darby, who has to live with it. But Patience has taught me to respect Coreena as Darby’s beloved mommy and I’m not going to be foolish enough to alienate my son.”
“I suppose you’re going to say that’s what I’ve done.” His father stalked to the kitchen window and looked out the frosted glass.
A flow of heated words clogged Gil’s throat. He swallowed them down. “The past is past. We only have each day. Do you want to alienate me? I don’t want to alienate you.”
“I have a right to my opinions.” The Captain folded his arms. “You’ll never make me say what I think is wrong is right.”
“I’m not trying to tell you how to think or what to say. I’m only asking that you not say things you know will hurt Darby and turn him against you. And if you want a relationship with him, you’ll heed my advice.”
“If I can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all,” his father intoned with liberal sarcasm. “Is that what this amounts to?”
“Yes.” Gil pulled on his gloves again.
The Captain turned to face him.
They stared at each other. Gil didn’t give an inch.
“Are you picking up Darby at that—” the Captain made a face “—at his mother’s trailer?”
“Yes, and then I’m going to pick up Patience so she can watch Darby open his presents. Do you want to join us?”
“Yes, I would.”
Good. Just don’t forget what I’ve said.
Through the icy night, Patience let Gil walk her to Bunny’s back door, home from the county club’s New Year’s Eve gala. She unlocked it and led him upstairs to her apartment. Her kitchen clock read 2:34 a.m.
“It was a lovely evening,” she whispered even though they were alone. Her hushed tone seemed appropriate for this special occasion. She’d never gone out with someone on a “real” New Year’s Eve date.
Gil gathered her into his arms. “It’s late. I should go.” But he made no move to leave her. He pressed his cheek next to hers.
She brushed against it, relishing the contact. She drew in a delicious breath and then sighed with complete satisfaction. “I never knew I could feel like this. I never let myself get this close to anyone….”
“I’m glad,” his voice rumbled in her ear. “I want you all to myself. Selfish, I guess.”
Lifting her mouth to him, she initiated a kiss, something she hadn’t done before. It made her feel bold, powerful…
He prolonged the meeting of their lips. An arm around her waist, he pulled her even closer to him. Patience rested her head on his shoulder, feeling as she never had before. “You take my breath away.”
“Ditto.”
The phone rang.
They both froze. Phone calls at this hour couldn’t be good. Had something happened to Darby sleeping over at the Captain’s?
She reached for the kitchen wall phone and picked up. “Yes?”
Gil still held her other hand.
“Oh, Patience,” Bunny said, “I’m sorry to bother you, but I heard you come in.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Your mother went out this evening and hasn’t come back. Do you know where she is?”
Chapter Twelve
Patience was fading into numbness. Not only her body from the chill wintry night, but her spirit as well. Where was her mother? Would they find her before someone found out she was violating the parole terms that demanded she stay sober?
In the dark of the very early morning hours, Patience glanced at Gil who was driving her to yet another of the bars scattered around the unincorporated areas of the county. Gil, why couldn’t you have gone home before Bunny called? I don’t want you here doing this with me.
But how could she have managed without him and without a car? And I’m a coward. I don’t want to face my mother alone if she’s been drinking.
He turned to her. “Are you all right? You’re awfully quiet.” His face was ghostly in the moonlight that reflected off the snow.
“It’s just…I hadn’t done this for years.” Not since I was fifteen, when I finally ran away from her once and for all. Or that’s what I had hoped I’d accomplished. How did I know then that I’d never be able to outrun my mother? Never be free.
“It will be all right.” Gil patted her arm.
No, it will never be all right. In the dim light, she tried to hide her despair with a little smile that pained her rigidly clenched jaw.
An hour or more ago—What time was it anyway?—they’d started their search at the small neighborhood bar on the far corner of the town square. It was the only one within walking distance of Bunny’s.
The gray-bearded bartender there had recognized Martina and told them she’d left with a man he didn’t know well. Martina had ridden off in the man’s truck—a disturbing development. So Gil had offered to drive Patience around to see if they could find Martina and bring her home, safe.
Patience tried to beat down the fear that jammed up her throat. It shouldn’t worry me. She’s done this as long as I can recall. What’s new?
Gil pulled up into one of the few vacant spots in another bar’s parking lot. Bars out in the county didn’t have to close at 2:00 a.m. like the ones in town, so the sound of music seeped out from inside the old farmhouse that now served as a bar. He got out and she joined him in walking to the garishly neon-lit entrance. When Gil opened the door, a country-western song, “Stand by Your Man,” cannonaded over them.
Childhood memories of roaming from bar to bar in their run-down Chicago neighborhood looking for her mother surged through Patience. Humiliation clutched her heart. I don’t want to do this again. I never wanted to do this again. Never.
Inside the crowded tavern, she approached the bartender, a beefy man with a ponytail. In the rip-roaring New Year’s Eve din, she shouted, “I’m looking for my mother.” She offered him a photo Bunny had taken of them at Christmas.
He glanced at the picture and then handed it back. “No idea,” he yelled.
She scanned the darkened raucous room, hoping to glimpse her mother. But no, Martina wasn’t here. She nodded her thanks to the man behind the bar and then she led Gil outside again. Shivering in the frigid predawn, she inhaled the cold clean air after the smoky bar. She preceded Gil back to his car. “We might as well go home,” she
muttered.
“But going off with a stranger…” Gil helped her into the passenger side. “Your mother might be in danger.”
“This is just her same old pattern. Go out, start drinking and hook up with any willing male.” Patience didn’t try to keep the scorn, hopelessness out of her voice. “It’s something no sane woman would do in this day and age of serial murderers and rapists. But my mother is fearless when she’s had a few.” Patience shut the door against the January cold. Bitterness burned her throat raw.
Gil climbed behind the wheel. “Let’s try one more, and then if we don’t find her I’ll just call the sheriff and ask him to keep an eye out for her—”
“No!” Patience’s heart pounded. “Her drinking again violates her terms of parole! Even if she doesn’t care, I don’t want her to have to go back to prison.”
He covered her hand with his. “All right. I won’t contact him.” He started the engine and flipped the heater on high.
“Gil, I don’t want you to do anything you shouldn’t as an officer of the court.” Lord, how am I supposed to react? I know You want me to forgive her. But how can I when she’s started drinking again? How can I forgive someone who doesn’t even care anything about herself? Or how she affects anyone else?
“There are a few taverns out on the southbound highway.” He backed out. “I’ll head there.”
“No.” A tremendous feeling of heaviness finally overwhelmed Patience. “Just take me home. She’ll show up eventually. She always does.” Patience pressed her fist to her mouth so he wouldn’t note her lips trembling. “Bad pennies always do.”
“Patience, I don’t mind driving around to a few more—”
“No, take me home. This is fruitless.”
Gil turned the car around and headed back toward town. Patience bit into her fist to keep from venting her despair with spiteful yet hopeless words. The dark miles passed and the predawn gray lightened the horizon.
Patience felt a million years old, nearly dead.
When they drove through the town square on their way to Bunny’s, the sight before her froze her heart. Ahead near the courthouse, swirling blue-and-white lights illuminated the early morning. Two officers, one she recognized as the sheriff, were dragging her mother up the steps to the county-jail door. Obviously intoxicated, Martina was staggering even though the officers on each side supported her under her arms.
