by Geri Krotow
“What can you do to stop it or prevent it? You’re going to counseling. What else is there?”
“Medication. Therapy. Time.” He said the three remedies as if he’d memorized his reply; he’d obviously struggled with the hope of his own permanent recovery.
“You will get past this, Max. It’s not forever.”
“Sure feels like it.” He glanced down at the dog. “Doesn’t it, boy?” Sam gazed up at Max in complete canine adoration.
“Don’t forget where your food comes from, Sam,” she whispered into the froth of her cappuccino.
“Mmm?” Max looked at her with a question on his face.
“Nothing. Just thinking out loud… .”
He didn’t respond and went back to stroking Sam’s head. She wished those long fingers were stroking her—and not on top of her head. How sick was that?
“It’s mind-blowing,” he said thoughtfully, “no pun intended. In an instant I’m back there, powerless.”
“But you acted, Max. You saved so many lives. And today you saved all three of us from what could’ve been a nasty accident. Not to mention the jerks on those bikes—they’re lucky they didn’t end up flat on the pavement.”
The lines around his mouth deepened. “In Afghanistan, it was pure luck, Winnie. A nanosecond later, a slower reflex, and I would’ve lost members of my squadron. All those young kids.”
“But you didn’t lose them.” Winnie took a sip of her coffee and forced herself to look away from Max’s grim expression. The water on this side of the island was calm and tranquil. She’d spent hours staring at it after Tom died.
“I read the news, Max. And while I’m not a therapist I’ve worked with a lot of guys and gals who’ve come back from the edge of insanity. You will, too. You have.”
Max sighed and moved his hand from Sam’s head to the table. Sam remained seated, but Winnie noticed that he was resting against Max, validating what she suspected. Max hadn’t stopped beating himself up over his PTSD yet. When he did, he’d be rid of the worst of his torment.
“Yeah, I suppose I have. Until the next couple of bikes race around a corner and I think I’m going to die.”
Winnie kept silent and occupied her hands with her coffee mug. It was an original hand-thrown Whidbey piece of pottery, cerulean blue, from the shop near her office in Coupeville. Just one of the many charming touches that made City Beach’s Coffee Klatch one of her favorites.
Max leaned over and briefly touched her forearm. “Enough about my crap. What I want to talk about is how I’m going to get you to trust my motives with the girls.”
“As long as we—”
He held up his hand. “Let me finish, Win.”
Win.
He’d called her that the night Maeve was conceived.
CHAPTER TEN
THE NIGHT HE’D called her “Win” as he made love to her would forever be part of who she was, no matter how many times she said that they were over. He’d whispered her name in her ear; he’d shouted her name when he came.
The night his hands had brought her to a fever pitch she’d never experienced before. She never compared it with her and Tom’s lovemaking—that wouldn’t have been fair. But as much as she and Tom had shared a tender, loving relationship, she’d never felt the pure chemistry she did with Max. The sense of primal connection she experienced every time their eyes met. It was still a shock that after years of seeing him only as Tom’s friend, her physical need for him was so voracious.
Like now, when he watched her steadily as he stated his case.
“I understand if you’re concerned about leaving me alone with the girls—you’re a great mother and you should never trust anyone right off the bat, regardless of how long you’ve known them. I’m sorry for pushing so hard just after you told me. I want to get to know my daughter. I want to help raise her. She happens to have a sister I care about, as well—and I’m Krista’s godfather.”
He glanced out the window before he returned his gaze to her.
“I screwed up, Winnie. I should’ve kept in touch with Krista after I left, and I sure as hell should’ve been more persistent about getting hold of you after our night together. It doesn’t erase the fact that you didn’t tell me. You realize I could have died in some godforsaken hellhole and never known my daughter? That I even had a daughter?”
If I’d told you, you might have died because of the distraction it caused you.
“How many times do you want me to say I’m sorry, Max?”
“It doesn’t matter—it’ll never change what you did.”
“Wow. Just sucker punch me now.” She didn’t get the slightest smile out of him—but then, she didn’t deserve to.
“I am sorry, Max, that this has caused you so much hurt.”
“Why do I hear a but in there, Winnie?”
She remained silent. It wasn’t the right time to tell Max that she still believed she’d helped keep him alive by not telling him sooner.
If she’d only been as wise with Tom. She would never have complained about his job, not once.
“Look, we’ve both made our choices and we can’t undo what’s been done. We do, however, have control over how we go forward.”
“Control—we’re both good at control, aren’t we, Winnie?”
She couldn’t tell if he was playing it straight or yanking her chain. She chose to believe the former.
“Exactly. So we agree to keep this on an even keel, to take it as slow as the girls need us to?”
His grin chased away the tension that just minutes earlier had stamped worry lines on his face.
“Agree to what, Winnie? To seeing Maeve and Krista only when you say so?” His tone was deceptively light. “Not to show them I care and I’m here for them? It would be nice for you if I agreed to your idea of my relationship with the girls, wouldn’t it? But this isn’t about you.”
There it was again. The sucker punch to her gut.
“My biggest concern is that you’ll get close to them and then have to transfer again. Where will that leave the girls? They’ve had too much loss in their lives already.”
“Didn’t I just show you the work permit and business license I’m getting so that I can have my operation up and running by the time I retire this summer? Are you going anywhere, Winnie? How can I be sure you won’t move?”
“Of course I’m not moving!”
“Great. So we’ll both be here to raise Maeve, and I can be active in Krista’s life from now on, too. We each have our own lives, that’s a given. We’ll work it out, Winnie. It’s what divorced parents do all the time.”
She sat up straight. “No, this isn’t like divorced parents, Max. We were never married or even in a relationship.”
His lips twitched and she wondered what the hell was so funny.
“Relax, Winnie. It’s clear that you’ve made a great home for the girls and that you’re near your family. I assume that unless you marry a Navy man again, you’re staying put, correct?”
“I’m never remarrying. Certainly not while the girls are young.”
His right brow raised and she saw a tiny spark in his irises. “Whatever—that’s your business.” He folded his hands in front of his coffee mug. “I’m here for good, too. Like I said, I’m going to retire after this shore tour. The girls won’t have to worry about me ever deploying or being in combat.”
“No, they’ll just have to worry about you in a tiny plane with the crazy weather here!”
“I didn’t realize you cared so much, Winnie.”
His sarcasm humiliated her, and she couldn’t look at him. She thought of herself as an independent woman who’d be perfectly happy without another husband in her lifetime, at least not anytime soon, but his questions stoked a simmering pain that she’d been able to distance herself from. Until now.
Until Max came back.
“Are you sure you want to retire and stay here, Max? Why are you going into such a dangerous business?” She avoided his eyes. “You s
houldn’t make such a big decision right after a trauma,” she murmured.
Max’s laughter chafed her pride.
“Nope,” he said, “neither of us has any control issues whatsoever.”
Slowly she allowed her smile to come out. “None at all.”
“Yes, I’m sure about staying here, Winnie. It’s almost a year since the…accident. I’ve gone through extensive physical therapy, as well as counseling. Even though I still have moments like the one you just witnessed, they really are fewer and farther between.” He looked out the window, apparently transfixed by two sandpipers chasing each other in the parking lot.
“This isn’t a knee-jerk decision I made because of discovering Maeve.” He looked back at her. Winnie wiggled her toes in her shoes, trying to hide her discomfort.
“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, actually. But it didn’t gel until the past couple of weeks. And then our meeting, finding out about Maeve—it’s all come together.”
“But you could still make Captain, right? Don’t you want to put your hat in the ring for Commodore?” The Commodore position was coveted. Only the top officers were picked to command the wing of AE-6B squadrons. It was a stepping stone to Flag rank, Admiral.
“You’re kidding me, aren’t you?” Max rubbed his chin.
“No, I’m not, Max. You’re the best the Navy has.”
He stared at her and she saw the light in his eyes, magnified by…tears. Max, crying?
“Thanks, Win. Your support means the world to me.”
He took a breath, and she was moved by his sincerity.
“Getting command of a squadron has always been my goal. I’ve achieved it. Anything operational past squadron level is too political for me. Too much paper-pushing and not enough real-world. I’m done flying. As far as I’m concerned, I’m done being a Naval Aviator at this point.” It went without saying that he’d always consider himself a naval officer, first and foremost.
“I understand what you mean about not flying anymore. Tom used to say that when the flying jobs were gone, it was time to find another one—in CIVLANT.” She referred to the acronym given to the civilian world after the Navy. The civilian side of life was one that most sailors and marines didn’t like to think about until they left the service.
“Exactly.”
“But we’re not that young or dumb anymore, Max. The employment situation is grim at the moment. You can see all the home foreclosures on Whidbey Island alone—enough to scare anyone off. How will you pay for your house?”
“I’ll have a decent pension, Winnie, and I’ve been saving for that proverbial rainy day. The business should prove profitable within two years.”
“I have my own business, Max. Fiber gathering and production is far more niche than a transportation company, but I do know how difficult it can be to start over on this island.”
He stared at her, both hands clasping his mug. “You’ve succeeded, Winnie. Give me the benefit of the doubt that I will, too.”
Heat flushed her neck and she wished she could take off the fleece pullover she’d grabbed on her way out the door. She was too young for this “power surge” to be hormonal. It came from being bested by Max. Again.
“So let me understand this—you want to get to know my daughters better, spend time with them, and you’re getting out of the Navy and staying put on Whidbey. But you don’t want me to plan any kind of visitation schedule at all?” She shook her head and stood.
His arm shot out and he grasped her hand. “Don’t do this, Winnie. Don’t make the five-cent issue into a million-dollar one.”
She glared at him and when she couldn’t take his scrutiny anymore she shifted her gaze to his hand, still holding hers. He didn’t budge.
“What you’re missing, Max, is that my children, my daughters, are the biggest issue here.”
He let go of her and leaned back. “Of course they are. But it’s not just about your daughters, Winnie. One of them is mine. And the other might as well be, because I’ve known her since she came into this world.”
Damn Max and damn his ability to dig up the memories she’d struggled to bury. Her mind’s eye saw the look of wonder on his face as he met Krista, right after her birth. Tom had been out on a mission and had made it back ten minutes too late. Max was in the neighborhood and had driven Winnie to the hospital on the Naval Air Station.
It should’ve been Tom she’d shared that moment with. But there was no denying it had been Max.
Max had been Tom’s best friend and flying buddy.
And now Max had fathered her second daughter.
He’d been part of her life for so long she couldn’t remember life before Max. And he appeared to have every intention of remaining part of her life, not only in the near term but the future, as well.
She could hardly breathe. “I need some space,” she muttered.
She turned on her heel and walked across the café and out the door. The cool air felt good on her cheeks. She’d barely escaped an all-out panic attack in there.
About ten paces down the street, she heard his all-too-familiar voice.
“Winnie! You forgot something.”
She took a deep breath and turned around. Max held Sam’s leash as the pair stood in front of the café.
At any other time she’d laugh in disbelief at her absentmindedness. Had she really walked out of that coffee shop without her best friend, Sam?
Max got to her like no one else. He’d always intimidated her, even when she’d been in love with Tom. He had that steely persistence, the quiet and steady presence that she couldn’t shake.
She walked the ten steps back to him.
It wasn’t the easiest thing she’d ever done but she met his eyes. No censure, no anger. Only warm amusement simmered in his expression.
“My walk of shame.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, Max. I let my temper get the better of me, which gave my anxiety a chance to take over.” She accepted the leash handle he held out to her, careful to make sure their fingers didn’t touch.
“Two apologies from you in one day. Are you sure it was your temper and not me, Winnie?”
“Trust me, Max, my temper doesn’t need any help from you or your PTSD.” She deliberately kept the focus on him.
He raised a brow. “I’m not talking about my PTSD. I’m talking about the tension between us.”
Her throat felt scratchy and she couldn’t meet his eyes.
“I get that you’re not interested in being involved with anyone, especially me with my baggage,” he continued. “That doesn’t eliminate the chemistry between us. But we can’t let it get in the way of me having a relationship with Krista and Maeve.”
“You know, Max, maybe you’re right. It is time for you to leave the Navy. Maybe you’ve missed your calling—why don’t you become a psychotherapist?”
He ignored her outburst.
“Let’s talk again soon, Winnie. At the very least, I’ll see you on Friday.”
She nodded. “Friday.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“YOU’VE GOT TO BE kidding me, sis. You really think you can spend all this time with Max and not get emotionally involved?” Robyn stood in Winnie’s kitchen as the Wednesday-morning sunshine slanted across the oak cabinets.
“I’m not the one who’s going to be spending the time with him—the girls are. And it’s good for them to have a positive male influence that isn’t strictly our family.”
“Sure, but he’s going to be family to all of you, not just Maeve, if you go down this path. You know that, right, sis? Is it what you want?”
Anger roiled and Winnie turned away from the coffee she was preparing for them. The girls were at school and day care. Brendan was with their mother, so Robyn had the day to herself and had stopped to see Winnie on her way to the Clinton ferry; she was going to Mulkiteo on the mainland. From there she had a short drive to malls and the outskirts of Seattle. It would’ve been quicker just to hop onto I-5 from Anacortes but she’d want
ed to see Winnie.
“I appreciate that you’ve stopped by to see me, but honestly Robyn, do I look helpless to you? Do you really think I’ve learned nothing in the past five years?”
“More like the past two years, you mean,” Robyn said, prodding Winnie about the night of Maeve’s conception.
“So I screwed up—literally—one time. I have a beautiful baby girl as a result and a sibling for Krista. Now the father’s involved—which should have happened sooner. Millions of unmarried parents raise kids in perfect harmony.”
“But millions of people haven’t sacrificed their husbands to the Navy. Millions haven’t had Max in their lives as long as their husband. It drives me nuts when you generalize about your life like this, Winnie!”
Winnie turned back to the coffeemaker to hide her expression from Robyn. She didn’t trust her ability to be unreadable. Especially where Max was concerned.
“He was Tom’s former Academy roommate and best friend,” she began. “He was Tom’s best man when we were married. He saw Krista before Tom did. And, oh, yeah, he fathered Maeve. But he’s not, never was and never will be anything more to me, Robyn. Yes, we have connections, maybe even a bond after going through Tom’s death, but that’s it! Our one night together was…an aberration.”
“Trying to convince yourself, sis?” Robyn continued to lean against the counter, her gaze serene on the trees outside. As if they were talking about the garden and not Winnie’s judgment.
Winnie cursed under her breath. Tears stung her eyes and her knees shook.
The touch of Robyn’s hand on her back, between her shoulder blades, was warm and welcome, and Winnie finally released her breath.
“It’s okay, Win. You don’t need to have everything all figured out. Sometimes it’s better just to go with whatever happens.”
“That’s my point, Robyn. Nothing is going to happen. Timing and fate brought us all back together. Max deserves a relationship with his daughter, and I’m not going to keep him from getting to know Krista again. But, but…”
