A hand touched his shoulder, making him jerk back. “H-hey.”
His father stood next to him, holding a warm cup of coffee and staring at Janet. “You aren’t going to make it better by torturing yourself.” He nodded toward the kitchen. “Come get some coffee.”
Normally, Michael would have shrugged off his father, but he didn’t feel normal any more. He nodded. “Okay.” Gently, he cracked the door to the room and followed his dad.
Michael paused as the hall opened into the main kitchen and living room. He stared up at a large buck whose eyes stared back at him with accusation. Anger surged inside him. He clenched his fist. He thought of how it must have been for Janet all those years ago. Her husband had been a cheating jerk. She would have felt scared and helpless. After finding out she had cancer, she would have had to rely on her family for everything. Knowing how independent she was, he knew it must have been torture. He wiped at his face, clenching and unclenching his fist.
“Go ahead and hit him if you think it will make you feel better.” His father poured a cup of coffee in the kitchen.
Michael thought about the offer to deck the animal head.
His father moved beside him, holding out the cup.
All the air went out of Michael, and he took it.
His father sat next to the fireplace. He blew into the cup. “Take a seat, son. You’ve been up all night.”
On autopilot, Michael sat in the other chair and slowly took a sip of the hot liquid.
“She’ll be okay.” His father whispered.
Honestly, there weren’t any worse words for his dad to say than those. “That’s what you said…before.” Michael gulped back another sip.
His father let out a long breath. “We’re still at that night.”
If his father thought that Michael wanted to be back to this, he was wrong. “The truth is that we’ve always been at that night. You lied to me, dad. You lied to me when you knew she was dying.”
Something registered on his father’s face. He put his coffee down on the little table next to him and scooted forward in his chair. “I was trying to protect you then, son. You were a child. When I got there, your mother was in surgery. All I had been told was that there was a chance.” Tears spilled down his cheeks. “I am so sorry that I failed you then, son. I am so sorry that I sent you to live with your aunt and left.” He spread his hands. “I-I didn’t know what to do. The only thing I’d ever done is go back on assignment.” More tears streamed down his face. “It is the biggest regret of my life.”
Michael stood, every part of him vibrating with emotions that he’d stuffed far, far down. He had put them away so they could never reach him again. Yet here they were now, threatening to pull him under. Uncertainty plagued him. He realized everything he’d ever done in his life since his mother had passed was so he could feel in control of those emotions.
He’d shut out Janet. He’d shut out his father. He’d focused solely on building a business. It dawned on him that the reason his engagement hadn’t worked out had been because he’d tried to keep her at a distance.
Before Michael knew what was happening, his father had closed the distance between them and wrapped him in his arms. “I love you, son.”
To hear those words. To really hear those words with his heart was something Michael had not allowed himself to do in a long time. The happiness that filled him was just as intense as the pain of all that he’d lost. He broke into a sob.
His father gripped him tighter.
Michael held him back, feeling like his father was a life preserver and he’d been thrown from a sinking ship. “I messed up, dad. I messed everything up.” He cried harder. “And I don’t know if it can be fixed.”
His father held him for a few moments then sighed. “There’s only one person who can fix things, the master of us all. I’d say we best ask God for help.”
Praying was something Michael hadn’t thought about for a long, long time. But as his mother used to say, ‘there’s always time for a prayer.’
They both bowed their heads, and his father petitioned the Lord for help on Janet’s behalf. He spoke in a soft voice, one that humbled Michael. At the end he also asked that whatever the Lord’s will for Michael was, that the Lord would help him, too.
When the prayer ended, his father turned to him. “I’m here for you. We’ll see this through together. Janet will be okay. Everything will be okay.”
“I did this, dad. I hurt her.” He felt better after the prayer, but he still couldn’t bear the thought of her suffering like this.
His father leveled him with a stare. “If I know anything about Janet Snow, she’ll wake up soon enough to make sure you don’t have the last word.”
Chapter 17
When Janet jerked awake and sucked in a heavy breath, fear assaulted her. Memories of all those months in the hospital, tubes draining the fluid around her lungs, overwhelmed her.
“It’s okay.” Michael was beside her, helping her sit up. “Let’s get you some water, and Doc Taggart says you need more medicine and a puff of your inhaler.”
She watched as Michael tugged open a bottle of pills and gingerly put one in her hand. Then he held the glass of water for her. As she swigged back the pill, she studied him.
His eyes were red, and his hair was disheveled. She was reminded of how he had looked all those years ago when she’d flown out to his mother’s funeral and sat beside him at the graveside service.
He held the inhaler out, and she took two quick puffs and then another sip of water. “How long?”
He blinked rapidly and then put the water back, taking a seat and sliding the chair by the window closer to the bed. “You’ve been sleeping since yesterday. Doc Taggart came out with medication, and I woke you up twice to give you your inhaler and water.”
Unwanted tears came to her eyes. She hated this. She hated the vulnerability and the way her body failed her. “Take me home please.” She could take care of herself.
The way he decisively shook his head no told her that he wouldn’t be letting her out of his sight anytime soon. “It’s too late.” He shook his head again. “I’m getting you some soup. Then we’ll talk.”
Five minutes later, Michael brought in a tray with chicken noodle soup, wheat toast, and orange juice. He gave her a tentative look and shrugged. “We’ve had it ready in case you woke up.”
She blinked at the tears on her cheeks and turned her face so the blankets would catch them. “Michael…”
After putting the tray on the bedside table, he kneeled beside the bed, putting a calming hand on her head. “Janet, you need to get it through your thick skull that I’m not leaving right now. I’m here. I’m with you. I want to be with you.”
She inhaled a shaky breath. She knew the protocol. All she truly needed were a couple days of rest along with routine medication, and she would be okay. The emotions from the previous day seeped into her. How could he not understand that her condition would complicate everything about his life? She couldn’t even run down a hill without ending up in bed. It wouldn’t be fair to Lacy for Janet to bring Michael into their lives and then have him leave. It would never be normal again. And it wouldn’t be fair to him either. She stayed propped up and took a sip of orange juice. “Take me home,” she said more firmly.
“I want you to eat something.” He held the bowl of soup out to her, and she took it although her hands trembled in a jittery, medicated fashion. There was a spoon, but she simply sipped from the edge.
Michael held a piece of toast to her mouth.
Reluctantly, she took a bite. After she swallowed it, she persisted. “Home, please.”
After a moment of consideration, Michael let out a sigh and then nodded. “Fine, I’ll take you home, but I’m not leaving you alone.”
“I’m not marrying you.” She felt exhausted and out of control.
Averting his eyes, he drug in a huge breath. He looked as tired as she felt. “I’m going to gather a few things, and the
n we’ll go.”
Janet listened to him take the tray back to the kitchen. But she couldn’t quite hear the whispers between him and his father. The next thing she knew he was back. His father came in beside him with a bag and a small cooler. Michael hesitated next to the bed. “Can I pick you up?”
Even though she didn’t want to be the damsel in distress, she knew it would be better if she didn’t exert herself too much, so she nodded.
After getting situated in the car and waving goodbye to his father, Janet pulled the passenger side mirror down. Not only was she extra pale, the skin underneath her eyes was sunk in, and her hair was greasy.
“You look great.” He said sincerely as he took her hand and headed toward her house.
Chapter 18
After Michael carried her into her house, she insisted she needed to take a shower.
The way he fretted, arguing that she should simply go to bed, left her taking a swig of the inhaler, again. “Don’t tick me off. It makes me worse.” She’d tromped off, going to her room and then taking some clothes into the bathroom with her. She paused before going in. “The steam actually helps.”
Michael admitted he was probably being overly concerned. Doctor Taggart had reaffirmed what Janet had said. She just needed rest and regular doses of medication.
With her gone in the shower, he finally noticed the room he stood in. He hadn’t looked that closely at her home before. Now he noticed that though it was small, it was nice. It was older, but loved. The furniture was a hodgepodge of pale pinks and light greens. The floors were dark wood that looked new, and the paint was a soft grey. She had an antique record player in the corner and a fancy chandelier in the middle of the room. It was connected to her kitchen where there was a small table with yellow and pink roses and poppies that were only a few days old. A book lay out on the white cozy chair in the living room. He smiled when he saw it was some Jane Austen book. She’d always liked love stories and had resorted to telling him about them on their runs when they were bored out of their minds and needed to think about anything but running.
With a jolt he thought of how she was now. He thought of how fragile she was and how much she hated it. He hated her fragility, too, but the strange thing was that it didn’t really matter to him. The fact she’d fought cancer and won, only made him proud of her.
This revelation about himself was interesting. He thought about how since his mother’s death he’d always been the kind of guy that dated girls without real problems. He’d knowingly kept needy people, or anyone that just wanted to be close to him, on the sidelines.
In all honesty, that was the real reason he hadn’t married the cheerleader. She’d wanted more than he could give.
Until now, he hadn’t realized that he could give more, but he wanted to give more to Janet. He found himself only wanting to be closer to her. Even though she had “real problems,” he didn’t want to leave her.
After her shower, she came out and ignored him sitting on the couch.
“How do you feel?” He didn’t care if she wanted to ignore him. She didn’t get to.
She got a glass of water and turned to him, taking a sip. Her hair was blown dry but not styled. She wore grey sweats and a pink t-shirt. If he hadn’t known better, with her slight frame, he would have thought she was still a teenager. Her eyes were the only things that gave her away. They were too haunted at the moment.
“Better.”
Her breathing didn’t sound as shallow and raspy. That encouraged him. More than he could explain, he wanted to get up, go to her, and pull her into his arms, but he resisted.
They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity.
Finally, he broke the silence. “I didn’t love her.”
Janet didn’t move. “What?”
“I didn’t tell you before. The cheerleader. She broke it off, not me.” The truth stung more than he wanted to admit. “She told me I was distant. She thought being married to me would mean having a cold life.” And now he understood why he’d been unable to give her what she needed. It was because of this woman in front of him.
For a second, Michael thought she might cry. Her lip trembled and then her face smoothed. “I’m sorry.” She turned for the bedroom. “There’s a guest room down the hall. Go ahead and sleep there.”
Chapter 19
Janet lay in bed, wondering so many things. She didn’t know the girl that had left Michael, but she thought she was a complete idiot. How could she have left him?
She held her phone in her hand and stared at Lacy’s texts. She’d missed five of them, and the last one sounded scared. When she’d seen them, she’d immediately replied and told Lacy a white lie. She had said her phone had been dead and everything was fine. She’d told her she loved her and would call the next day.
The previous ones told her that Kurt and Tina had taken her to the zoo and to the movies. Lacy had said that she’d had fun but she missed her.
A stray tear went down her cheek. Part of her was relieved that Kurt was treating Lacy right, and the selfish part of her missed Lacy terribly.
Her mind went back to Michael and the cheerleader. She wondered if Michael had been someone completely different with her. Honestly, she couldn’t imagine thinking Michael was cold. She’d never known him that way.
Then another thought took her by surprise. What if Kurt could be someone different with Tina? What if the combination of some people just didn’t work? She blinked. The thought made her both sad and happy. Maybe Kurt could be what Tina needed. Maybe she was what he needed.
Then reality hit her. Maybe Michael had been what she needed all those years ago. She turned on her side and looked at the neon clock. Eleven-thirty. She’d heard Michael go to bed a while ago.
Without warning, a coughing fit took her by surprise. Her lungs couldn’t get enough intake, and it caused a rapid reflex coughing. Anxiety made it worse, so she tried to gently push herself to a more upright position and reached for her inhaler.
Before she knew it, he was there, standing in the doorway wearing basketball shorts and a t-shirt. He rushed toward her.
Taking a puff on the inhaler, she felt her chest relax.
He reached for the switch on her lamp, and she saw him. Much like earlier today, his eyes were bloodshot and his hair messy. He frowned. “I’ll get you some water.”
In two seconds he was back, holding it out, watching as she took a sip.
Without knowing why, his sympathy and pity made her sad. Shakily, she put the water on the side table. “Thanks.”
Their eyes locked. Then he turned the switch again and went to the door.
Words couldn’t express the mixture of feelings she had. She wanted him with her, next to her, but she also didn’t want him to get more mixed up with her.
He stopped and turned back.
The moonlight cast a shadow on him, and she saw the angle of his jaw. The way it had felt to be in his arms the other morning in her garden rushed into her mind. How she ached for that. She ached for the strength of him and the feel of his lips on hers.
“Janet.” His voice was a whisper.
“What?”
“I know you don’t want to marry me.”
Emotion tightened her throat. She nodded. “No, I don’t.”
He studied her for a second then moved to her side and picked up her hand. “But we’re friends. If we’ve connected at all the past couple of days, you know that I’m here for you, right?”
Not trusting herself to speak, she squeezed his hand.
He stood there for a moment. “Okay, then.”
All the fear and vulnerability that comes with fighting cancer makes a person value true friends even more. “Thanks.”
He let go of her hand and nodded, moved to the door, and then stopped. “And you can put your head on my shoulder and cry sometimes. I won’t let it mean anything, okay?”
“Okay.” She tried to give him a small smile but knew it probably looked completely wrong.
>
After waiting a few seconds, he nodded and moved for the door.
“Michael.”
He stopped, but didn’t turn around. “Yes.”
She sucked in a breath. “I should have called you.”
He turned to face her. “What?”
“I should have called you when I was dying.”
The way he put his head back for a second and then blew out a long breath told her he had to work to control his emotions. “Yeah, you should have.”
“Can I put my head on your shoulder now?”
Chapter 20
Michael held her in the crook of his shoulder and watched her breathe. She was beautiful. She wasn’t the same sixteen year old he’d loved and left. She was a woman now, and she was here with him. Every part of him felt alive. They’d both slept wrapped together all night. When he’d woken at six thirty in the morning, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to move an inch and risk waking her. Gratitude and love filled him. He couldn’t remember when he’d felt so calm and happy. He savored this feeling of quiet joy.
It occurred to him he had hardly thought about his company at all in the last three days. It felt strange since his company, or building his company, had been the only real thing he’d allowed in his life for the past couple of years. It was the thing that had anchored him.
But being here with her anchored him in a new way. It was a way that didn’t feel rushed and all-consuming. It didn’t feel like if he slowed down some wolf would catch him. No, being with her made him feel like he could be something new. Something useful and satisfying. A new picture of himself was being created right here in this moment. If he were honest with himself, this new version had started being created the moment she had slipped into his arms and danced with him.
Summer in Snow Valley (Snow Valley Romance Anthologies Book 2) Page 41
