A Gift for All Seasons

by Karen Templeton

  That, he could give her.

  “Sure thing.” He got up to plug in the lights before sitting again, bent forward, waiting for he wasn’t sure what. Seconds later Lili reclaimed his lap, wriggling back against his chest to watch the tree. Then she said something he didn’t quite get.

  “You have to take your thumb out of your mouth, I can’t understand—”

  “I said,” Lili repeated as the thumb popped out, “you forgot April.”

  “What?”

  “April.” With an exaggerated sigh, she did the palm-up thing. Four going on fourteen, God help him. “You know. April. When you talked about all those people who love me? You forgot her. Where is she, anyway?”

  His chest tight, Patrick gathered Lili close. “She’s been busy,” he said over his pounding heart. He reared back to look down at her. “You never talked about her.”

  “I know.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you didn’t,” she said with a shrug, and he almost laughed.

  “Do you like her?”

  She gave him a Well, duh, look—eye roll and everything—that made him bite his lip. “Of course,” she said, snuggling back into his arms, and that laugh threatened to erupt, easing the cramp. Guess he could add his kid to the number of females determined to kick his butt in gear that night.

  Because Well, duh, was right.

  Here he’d been so determined to protect his kid, and the kid had things figured out a lot better than he did. He’d been the one making things complicated, not Lili. As far as Lili was concerned, he now realized, the hurt over her mother’s abandonment and what she felt about April were two separate issues. Like the tares and the wheat, he thought, remembering a bible story from religion class, growing together but not really affecting each other. Lili’s bad moods had always been about her mother, never about April. But she couldn’t exactly tell him that, could she? Any more than she could explain how she didn’t question April’s affection or doubt how long it would last. It just was. And God bless her, she was wise enough, and open enough, to simply accept it.

  And what kind of example was he setting if he couldn’t do the same?

  To stop worrying so hard about what might happen and simply accept what was.

  * * *

  Deciding it was a gold loop earring kind of day, April took her “good” jewelry case out of the small safe in her room and flipped it open, spotting her wedding rings winking at her in the morning sun. The sight of them almost startled her, although she had no idea why. She had even less idea why she pinched them out of their little velvet furrow, slipped them on.

  They looked...wrong. As though they belonged to somebody else. Certainly they belonged to another life. She should sell them, she supposed. Not that she needed the money. But she didn’t need the rings, either. And as fond as she’d been of Clay, as committed as she’d been to their lives together at the time, when all was said and done they might as well have been part of a costume, like paste jewelry an actor might wear while playing a part.

  Not that she was sure what she’d shared with Patrick had been real, either. But what she felt for him was, she thought, breathing through the heaviness still plaguing her as she removed the rings, dropped them back in the box.

  Was it strange that she should fall so completely in love in less than a month, when it had taken her longer than that to pick out a paint color for the great room?

  She hooked the loops into her ears, thankful that at least she’d been too busy during the day to mope, too exhausted at night to do anything except crash. Or even dream, praise be. Of course, she awakened every morning feeling as though Godzilla was sitting on her chest. And there’d been some sobbing in the shower. Okay, a lot of sobbing in the shower. But then she’d dry herself off, don her big-girl panties and a healthy dose of under-eye concealer, remind herself how goshdarned blessed she was and haul her little butt out to greet her guests, and by the time breakfast was over she could almost convince herself that one day she might even be able to breathe normally again.

  Her jewelry case returned to its crypt, April made tracks through the gathering room, exchanging pleasantries with a middle-aged couple sitting on the sunlight-drenched love seat like a pair of cats. The good news was that not only had the inn been full for a week, April could easily have booked twice as many rooms. She’d even given over the room she’d “saved” for her parents, finally accepting that her mother wasn’t going to change her mind. Not in this lifetime anyway.

  Actually she was coming to terms with the fact that few, if any, humans changed their minds about much, really. At least not any of the humans she knew. In theory, it could happen. In practice, not so much. After all, she could no more change who she was at heart than she could touch the moon.

  Meaning, if she cried easily, that’s because she felt deeply, and nobody could ever convince her that was a bad thing. Same as nobody could ever make her believe there was such a thing as giving too much. Laughing too much.

  Loving too much.

  “’Morning, sunshine!” Todd called out as April pushed through the swinging door to the kitchen.

  She smiled for her employee, who was switching off mornings with Mel so the poor woman didn’t lose her mind—or her husband-to-be. For now they were doing a continental breakfast buffet, mostly dry cereals and pastries and rolls, fruit and yogurt. Except neither Mel nor Todd were averse to whipping up a hot breakfast, if requested.

  “Good morning to you, too. So where are we?”

  “Coffee’s on, juice pitchers are already set up...why don’t you take that fruit and bagel platter out, see if anyone wants an omelet? Eggs and bacon? Oatmeal?”

  “Got it,” April said, laughing. Lord, the man was more of a mother hen than she was.

  The large platter firmly clamped in her hands, April nudged open the swinging door to the dining room with her hip and slid sideways into the room, then carted the platter over to the groaning board taking up a good chunk of the back wall. By this time the sunny, coffee-scented room was beginning to fill up with hungry guests, all of whom would be checking out that morning, giving April and the staff a few days’ breathing spell before things picked up again after Christmas.

  But for now, they were hers to fuss over. And fuss, she did, making the rounds from table to table, greeting everybody by name, asking how they slept, if there was anything they needed, would anyone like a hot breakfast? The room buzzed with conversation, the occasional squawk of a small child, the clinks of flatware against plates. However, unlike every chain hotel in the country, April refused to have a TV in the dining room, figuring if people wanted to plug in to the news that badly, they could check their phones or tablets or whatever.

  The toddler squealed again, the sound overloud in what April realized was a sudden dip in the noise level. Her back to the door, she caught a mother clearing her throat, diverting her little boy’s attention from whatever he’d been staring at, then shaking her head. April spun around, barely aware that the conversational hiccup had passed.

  She couldn’t have heard a blessed thing, anyway, what with all the blood rushing in her ears.

  Then she saw the look in Patrick’s eyes and she could barely see, either, for the tears in hers.

  * * *

  Her silence was unnerving.

  Before Patrick began to say he could see April was busy, he’d come back later, that blond-haired giant she’d hired burst out of the kitchen and practically shoved them both outside, declaring he had everything under control. But now, as she led him toward the gazebo, head down and hands shoved into her jacket pockets, Patrick realized he had no idea what he was doing. Or what, exactly, he was going to say. Oh, he knew what he felt, why he was here. It was those damn words that seemed to be eluding him. And somehow hauling her to him and planting one on her, while it held a definite appeal, didn’t feel quite right, either.

  So he went for the grovel. Women loved that, right?

  “Would it help to admit I’ve
been an idiot?” he finally said to her back as she stomped into the gazebo. April glanced over her shoulder, then climbed up onto one of the bench seats to perch backwards on the railing. The breeze toyed with the fringes of the scarf wound around her neck, black with aqua flecks in it nearly the same color as her eyes.

  “I was the one who walked out, remember?”

  “I do. But I let you.”

  She eyed him for a long moment, shivering, although whether from the chill or an attempt to stay in control, he couldn’t quite tell. Aching to wrap her in his arms, to show her what he wasn’t sure he could say, he took a step closer. But her hand shot up.

  “Oh, no, you just stay right where you are—in fact, you could even back up a little, it wouldn’t hurt—because it’s like your pheromones are sucking out my brain cells. And right now, I need every one of those suckers I can get. Because damn it, Patrick...”

  Her eyes filled in that way when a man knows to brace himself against the torrent of words to follow. “Walking away that night went against everything I’ve ever believed about myself. Because I knew you needed me, knew Lili needed me, knew we’d all be good for each other. And...and pretending I could simply toss all that aside felt a whole lot like giving up. Which I don’t do.”

  “I know—”

  “I’m not done.” She yanked the scarf tighter around her neck. “Except I could tell you were confused, or afraid, or simply not ready, and the last thing I wanted to do was bully you into a revelation. That’s why I left, not because I didn’t care...” A tear slipped out which she smacked away. “But because I did. Do. So you listen up, Patrick Shaughnessy, and you listen up good.”

  More tears glimmered in her eyes. “I can deal with Lili’s moods. Her heartbreak. I ran into your mother, so I know Natalie...” Her lips pressed together, she shook her head. “That sucks, and I’m sorry, but...but more important, nothing you can do or think or feel scares me, either. You have nightmares, I’ll be there to hold you until they pass. Or panic attacks—I’ll be there to talk you down. I’ll be there, because I love you. I love both of you, and I don’t give a flying fig whether that messes with your head or not, it just is. Not because you were my first, but because you’re my only. And, if you didn’t want me falling in love with you, you shouldn’t’ve rocked my world the way you did. And I’m not only talking about the sex, although we need to get something straight about that, too. Fine, so maybe I don’t have anything to compare it to—which I would think actually works in your favor—but the thing is, after making love with you? Why on earth would I want to do it with anybody else? I mean, really?

  “So as much as every molecule in my body aches for you, as much as even thinking about you touching me gets me halfway to heaven...” She shuddered. “I’m sorry, but it’s got to be all or nothing. Because that’s what it is for me. But if it isn’t for you—” she pointed in the direction of the parking lot “—you can turn right back around and leave.”

  Patrick’s mouth nearly cramped with the effort to not smile, even as his heart cramped for entirely different reasons. And right then, like somebody’d slipped him the answer to the hardest question on the test, he knew what to say.

  What to do.

  “All or nothing, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, then...hmm...” He lifted a hand to rub his scarred jaw, then slugged it back in his pocket with a nonchalant shrug. “I guess...I’ll just have to ask you to marry me. That all enough for you?”

  Then he lunged forward to grab her before she toppled backward off the railing. Figured he might as well take advantage of the situation to haul her into his arms. Oddly, she didn’t protest, although that might have had something to do with her shock. In fact, she didn’t look like she was in any state to protest much of anything, so he whispered, “Can I kiss you now?” and she nodded, so he did. And she wound her arms around him like she couldn’t get close enough, laughing and crying at the same time as they kissed, over and over and over, leaving him to wonder how in the hell he’d thought he could let her go.

  How he could have refused this gift.

  Eventually, however, she planted a hand on his chest and backed up, looking so befuddled it made him want to kiss her all over again. “You c-can’t be serious.”

  Patrick shrugged. “If you’re really not going anywhere—”

  “No,” she said, a smile blossoming across her face.

  “Then may as well make it legal. Right? And anyway, Lili told me if I didn’t marry you I was a dumbbutt.” Because they’d talked some more, that morning over breakfast. You know, just to feel the kid out, make sure he wasn’t being presumptuous. Apparently not.

  “She didn’t.”

  “She did. And you know I’d do anything for that little girl.”

  When April laughed, Patrick once more cradled her tear-streaked face, finally and completely and unreservedly accepting the joy shining in her eyes, a joy that finally, and completely, and un-freaking-reservedly sent the last vestiges of fear and doubt packing. “Just like I’d do anything for you,” he whispered over the lump in his throat. “Because I love you, too. I need you. And swear to God, I always will.”

  “Oh, Patrick...” April threaded her arms around his waist and pulled him close to lay her cheek against his chest. “Thank you—”

  Her cell rang. Patrick held her tighter, owning it with everything he had in him. “Ignore it.”

  “Can’t,” she said on a sigh, pulling away. “That’s Todd’s ringtone, he wouldn’t be calling unless it was important.” She fished her phone out of her pocket, punching it before holding it to her ear. “Hey, what’s up?” Then her jaw dropped. “You’re kidding? No, no...I’ll be right there.”

  Her phone back in her pocket, April lifted her eyes to Patrick. And damned if she wasn’t on the verge of tears again. “My parents are here. Ohmigosh, Patrick! My mother...she came! She came! I’m so sorry, I’ve got to go...”

  She grabbed his shoulders and gave him a hard kiss, then reared back to slap her temple. “For heaven’s sake, what am I thinking?”

  Clasping his hand, she tugged him down the gazebo steps and back toward the house, clearly intent on introducing him to her parents. Without, he had a strong suspicion, any warning about his existence, let alone his appearance. Or the slightest qualms about the fallout from either. Both. Whether that made her brave or crazy, he had no idea. But it definitely made him even crazier about her.

  Halfway across the yard, he swung her around, smiling into her baffled eyes. “Does this mean we have a deal?”

  Her grin was brighter than the morning sunshine flickering across the water behind them. “Like to see you try to get out of it, buster,” she said, then backed toward the house, pulling him with both hands. Laughing.

  And he willingly, joyfully, followed.

  Epilogue

  Oh, yeah...Santa had outdone himself this year, April thought with a grin as she stretched underneath the comforter in Patrick’s bed, squinting at the clock in the predawn light. Another whole hour before she had to be back at the inn.

  The comforter shushed over her skin as she rolled onto her stomach to snake her arm across his bare chest. His eyes closed, he smiled, then suddenly shifted to pin her to the bed, making her shriek.

  “Happy New Year,” he whispered, kissing her neck. She shut her eyes. Melted.

  “You said that last night.”

  He started in on the other side. “’S’worth repeating.” Then he lifted his head, his good eyebrow raised. “I can think of something else worth repeating, too.”

  April looped her hands around his neck. “Telling me you love me?”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of showing rather than telling, but yeah. That, too.”

  She let him continue his nibbling for a moment, then said, “My parents like you.”

  Who had returned to Richmond a couple days after Christmas. But only after her mother told her how happy she was for her, about her choices. All
of them. Not that April had been seeking her mother’s approval, exactly, but it was nice to have. Mama clearly still had some heebie-jeebies about being in her mother’s house, but she was dealing. And that’s all anyone could ask.

  Patrick chuckled, his breath teasing that sensitive spot under her ear. “Good to know.” Then he rolled to his back and pulled her to his side, entwining his right hand with her left, fingering the darling little ring he’d given her the night before. Something she’d seen and admired in a shop window when, with her parents, they’d taken Lili to Annapolis the day after Christmas.

  And yes, her parents adored the little girl, who in turn was thrilled out of her gourd about getting an extra set of grandparents.

  April teared up, remembering Patrick’s words as he presented the ring the night before—which Lili, who’d spent the night with his parents, had insisted he go all the way back to Annapolis to get.

  “Here I was,” he’d said, “getting by perfectly okay...and then you came along and showed me I wasn’t okay at all. That there was this big, honking hole inside me that I’d figured...” He’d swallowed. “That I figured I may as well get used to being empty. Except you wormed your way inside and filled it, anyway...”

  And that had frightened him half to death, he’d said. That he’d get used to the gap being filled, and then she’d leave. Until he’d realized her coming into his life wasn’t a bad thing. A not-bad thing he should shut up and accept, already.

  April still had a hard time dealing with Natalie’s decision to sever her connection with him and Lili for good. Thoughts she’d keep to herself, at least for now. The woman had her own issues to work out, none of her concern.

  Putting the family back together Nat’d left behind, however?

  “Come here,” she whispered, smiling when Patrick drew her close again, the obvious happiness in his eyes matching her own as their mouths met.

  Mission accepted.