The baby hiccupped in her sleep. Kim held her awkwardly away from her body, not wanting to cuddle too close. She was terrified that if she did she just might break down completely. Once in a lifetime had been quite enough for her, thank you.
However, the perfection of the child’s skin, the shadows of eyelashes along the half-moon of her closed eyelids and the pink bowed mouth mesmerized her.
“Kim? You’re so pale.” Becky Jo had returned and now peered quizzically into Kim’s face. She laid a hand on Kim’s arm but made no move to take the baby back. “Are you sick? Is that why you’re here?”
“No, I’m fine. Tired, that’s all.”
“Are you . . .” She lifted her eyebrows, glanced down at the baby, then back at Kim.
“No.” Kim shook her head fast and hard. “Oh, no.”
Just the thought made her dizzy again. If there was one thing she feared more than Brian discovering the truth, it was that.
“If you aren’t sick, then what are you doing here?” Becky pressed.
Kim dumped the baby back into her friend’s arms, then glanced around the room. Mothers talked quietly with their children; ladies without children talked quietly with one another or read People magazine. Though no one appeared the slightest bit interested, Kim could tell by the pointed way they ignored her that they were all very interested indeed.
Kim drew Becky Jo farther away from the room at large, though the place was so full there wasn’t anywhere private to go. “I need to make an appointment for my mom.”
“She’s sick?”
“No.”
Kim didn’t elaborate. Her mother wasn’t sick. What she was, was no business but theirs.
Country concern was what Becky Jo would call such questions, and she’d be both surprised and dismayed to hear that Kim just considered her nosy. Kim liked to keep her private life private. In Gainsville there was no such thing.
The receptionist beckoned, so Kim murmured, “Excuse me,” and took care of business, hoping all the while that Becky Jo would be called to her appointment before Kim finished and she could slip out of the room without further conversation. No such luck.
When Kim turned away from the window, she nearly stumbled over Becky Jo and two more children.
“This is Carrie and Joey.”
“Uh, hi.”
The two smiled with gap-toothed innocence, then as soon as Becky Jo’s back was turned they began to punch each other in the arm with drumbeat precision.
They reminded Kim of her and Dean at that age. Of course, their mother would never have permitted the punching to go on as long as it had. She’d have slapped them both up alongside the head while admonishing them that “Hitting wasn’t nice.”
Kim smirked. The more she thought about certain occurrences in her past, the funnier they got—while others only appeared sadder from a distance.
“Is Brian really all right?”
Kim dragged her gaze from the children and back to Becky Jo, who was jiggling the wide-eyed baby. Kim wasn’t sure, but she didn’t think all that jiggling could be good for the digestion. As if to prove her point, the baby burped and white gook sprayed from her sweet little mouth, plunging through the air and landing on the floor with a wet splotch.
Becky Jo didn’t even look down. With the precision of a laser beam, her foot covered the spot and ground it into the busy pattern of the carpet. She raised her eyebrows and cocked her head, waiting for Kim’s answer.
“Um, oh, Brian. Yeah, he seems to be all right. I just dropped him at the doctor to get his casts.”
“You did?”
“Someone had to.”
“Are you and Brian back together?”
“No!”
The receptionist glanced up at the force and volume of Kim’s denial; so did three-quarters of the room. Kim cleared her throat, gave everyone an apologetic smile. No seemed to be her word today.
Perhaps sensing the conversation in the waiting room could turn even louder, the receptionist summoned Becky Jo to her appointment.
“You know what?” Becky Jo motioned to the immensely pregnant lady. “Take Julie.”
The receptionist frowned. “You were first, Mrs. Sopol.”
“I know. But she’s been doing her breathing exercises for five minutes now. You remember how she almost dropped that last baby out in the frozen-food section? The doctor better take a peek.”
Alarm widened the receptionist’s eyes and she hurried over to Julie. “Let me help you up.”
No small feat, but several huffing, puffing minutes later the two women disappeared beyond closed doors.
Becky Jo plopped the baby into the señora’s lap, wagged a finger at her three other children and grabbed Kim’s arm. She steered Kim into the hall and waited for the door to shut behind them before she spoke.
“You’re my friend. Always will be, no matter what. Friends are forever in my book.”
Kim frowned. She didn’t deserve Becky Jo’s devotion, wasn’t sure what to do or say in return. But Becky Jo didn’t wait for any response on Kim’s part.
“Doesn’t matter how long since you’ve seen ‘em, how little you’ve heard from ‘em or what they might have done. But Brian’s a good guy, and he doesn’t deserve to be hurt again.”
“I have no intention of hurting him.”
“Then why are you living with him?” Becky Jo whispered furiously.
“You make it sound like we’re having mad, passionate sex on the kitchen table.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Kim blushed. She’d once shared a lot with Becky Jo—perhaps too much.
“He still loves you.”
Kim laughed. “No, he doesn’t.”
The idea was ludicrous. Brian might want her; hell, she wanted him, too. But sex wasn’t love. She knew that better than anyone.
“Wake up and smell the manure, Kim. If friendship lasts, love lasts longer. And the kind of love you and Brian had doesn’t just go away no matter what either of you has done.”
Kim’s mouth opened, then shut. She wasn’t sure what to say. She’d never considered that Brian might still love her. How could he?
The door opened. “Mrs. Sopol?” the receptionist urged.
“Coming.” Becky Jo patted Kim on the arm. “You think about what I said.”
Kim could only nod. She had no energy left to argue. She barely registered when Becky Jo disappeared and the door closed, leaving Kim blissfully alone in the hall.
She couldn’t get her mind around the possibility that Brian might still love her. Even if he did, it wouldn’t matter. Just as her loving him didn’t matter. She couldn’t have him.
Brian deserved better, and she knew just how to make him realize that.
“Modern medicine is unbelievable.” Brian admired his shiny new casts.
Kim grunted. She’d been doing that a lot since picking him up at the doctor’s office and stuffing him back into her Miata.
“You know with these I can take a shower, go swimming, even wash a cow if I want to.”
“And why would you want to?”
He grinned. “Because they’re there?”
She didn’t smile; she didn’t laugh. She didn’t even roll her eyes or say “har-har.” But Brian was too excited about modern medicine to care at the moment.
“You remember what casts used to be like? Heavy and white. You couldn’t do a damn thing when you had one on.”
“Which might have been the point.”
He ignored her, holding his arms out in front of him and turning them this way, then that. “I could have gotten black and red. But since it’s football season, I thought blue and orange would be better.”
Kim glanced at the neon-orange cast circling his right forearm. “How could you resist?”
“Exactly. Dean is going to love these.”
She returned her attention to the road. “What’s that saying about men and boys and the price of their toys?”
“Got me.”
Kim muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “H-E-double toothpicks,” and spun the sports car from the road onto his lane. Gravel sprayed in their wake.
“What’s eating you?”
She’d been acting strange all day, come to think of it. This morning she’d practically run for the shower, but when she’d come out, they’d shared a peaceful, pleasant breakfast. The ride to town had been okay. Then she’d made an excuse to leave him at the doctor’s office alone. Was she trying to make him crazy?
Kim parked her car, leaped out of the driver’s seat and headed for the house. If he didn’t know better he’d think she was avoiding him. But why? He hadn’t touched her—lately.
“Hey,” he shouted out the half open window. “We forgot to buy groceries.”
Kim disappeared inside, leaving Brian to get himself out of the car. Luckily, the sturdiness of the casts enabled him to accomplish more with his fingers. He was clumsy and slow, but he managed to open the car door and exit under his own power.
Just in time to hear Kim scream.
Ba, who had been trotting over to greet him, skittered and balked. Brian didn’t have time to soothe her; he was already running for the house. He left her staring after him, head cocked like a Labrador retriever.
Brian opened the screen door and Precious shot out squalling as loudly as her mistress. The kitten’s feet scrabbled for purchase on the smooth wood of the porch. She dug in and leaped.
Just then Ba decided to come to the rescue, loping toward the house. The cat landed on her back. Ba bleated, bucked and began to spin madly.
Instead of jumping free and running away, the kitten arched her back like an imitation of a Halloween cat and held on. The sheep leaped around the yard like a rodeo bull.
Brian’s head spun, as well. With Kim yelling from one side and Ba baaing from the other, he wasn’t sure what to do. Another panicked shriek from the house made his decision for him. Though he’d like to stay and watch the show, he hurried inside.
He should have known what had happened just by the tenor of Kim’s screams. Nevertheless, he stood openmouthed in the kitchen doorway. Kim was perched on the counter as what appeared to be a drunken mouse ran circles around the kitchen table. Every time she yelled, the mouse changed directions. Why it didn’t run away from the sound, back to the basement or even into the hallway. Brian couldn’t figure.
The rambunctious rodent circled too close, and Brian snatched it up by the tail. Kim stopped screaming as if a switch had been thrown.
Brian let his gaze wander from the dangling mouse to the trembling woman. “Why didn’t you come back outside if there was a mouse in the kitchen?”
“There wasn’t. Precious ran in and dropped it on my foot.”
“Boy, does she love you.”
Kim winced, swallowed and looked away. “Can you get rid of that, please?”
“Oh, sure. Sorry.”
He walked to the front door. Ba and Precious had disappeared, though he heard furious bleating and irate caterwauling from the back of the house. Apparently the party wasn’t over.
Brian tossed the mouse outside and returned to find Kim still on top of the counter.
“You can come down now.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You going to stay up there forever?”
“Maybe.”
“Just so you know, the mouse was already up there.”
“What?” Her gaze darted to and fro.
Brian crossed the room and pointed to the toast left over from that morning. Half had been nibbled away, and there were tiny mouse calling cards all over the place.
“Uck!” Kim jumped down.
She landed on her feet, but the force of the leap tossed her nose first into Brian’s chest. He grabbed her shoulders, awkwardly because of the casts, and helped her stand up straight.
Blue highlights shone in the ebony silk of her hair. The scent of Kim—warmth, energy, both the sweetness and the spice of life—tantalized. The muscles beneath his fingertips danced. He felt her tremble. She was so on edge she was making him nervous.
“Hey,” he murmured. “It was just a mouse.”
“Just?” Her laugh sounded like a sob.
He should let her go, but he couldn’t seem to make his fingers obey. He wanted her; he shouldn’t. He loved her; he couldn’t.
Brian lifted his hands, meaning to ruffle his hair in frustration and popped himself in the nose with his electric-orange cast.
“Shit,” he muttered.
She took one step back, quirked a brow at his klutziness, but let it go without comment. “I suppose you’re going to tell me next that the mouse was more afraid of me than I was of it.”
Brian wanted to rub his throbbing nose, but he was afraid he might knock himself out if he tried—so he let it hurt. He was very good at letting it hurt.
“Well, it was.”
“Doesn’t matter. Irrational fears don’t listen to rational explanations. When I see a mouse, I can’t think straight. My skin crawls, my hair tingles and I scream, even though I know screaming won’t do any good.”
Her gaze met his, and the memory passed between them of another time screaming had done no good. He wanted to pull her closer but she’d only run away. Instead, very carefully, he brushed a strand of loose hair away from her face. His fingers drifted across her temple and her eyes closed.
“Just because you’re touching me doesn’t mean I’ll talk,” she murmured.
“Just because I promised not to talk doesn’t mean I won’t remember.”
She opened her eyes and smiled sadly. “I know.”
The love he’d tried so hard to kill pulsed to life, heating his skin, slowing his blood, tainting his thoughts. Before he knew what he was doing, he’d leaned over and brushed his lips across the place his fingers had touched.
She leaned into him; her arms went around his waist, and for a long, long time the two of them stood in his kitchen. Neither said a word, but it was the best conversation they’d had in years.
“I should find Precious,” Kim said.
“She’s with Ba.”
“Then I should hurry.”
His laughter rumbled against her cheek. The soap-and-water scent of his skin brushed her face. The heavy weight of his casts rested against her back. Longing rippled through her with an intensity that made Kim shudder.
She wanted to remain in his arms forever, so she had to pull away. She couldn’t hurt Brian again. She had to make him see that she wasn’t worthy of his love.
What was it all those gospel singers sang?
Oh, yeah. The truth shall set you free. She certainly hoped so.
“There something I have to tell you.”
Brian’s eyes widened. “Okay.”
He sat at the table and stared at her expectantly.
Suddenly more nervous than she’d been when Precious had bestowed her latest present, Kim paced the room. “As near as I can figure it, when I left, you worked too much and withdrew from everyone who’d let you.”
“So? Did you think I’d go merrily along, partying like there was no tomorrow.”
She closed her eyes and confessed. “I did.”
“You did what?”
“I tried to forget the only way I knew how.” She opened her eyes and saw his confusion. “I was empty, Brian. So damn empty.”
Her breath caught on the sob that nearly escaped. He held out a hand, but she shook her head and stayed out of his reach. If he touched her now, she’d never be able to get through this without crying.
“I had to fill my time, my heart, my mind, myself.”
“With what?” he whispered.
She wanted to run, but she’d run enough, and she had to tell him. She had to make him see that spending his life loving her was a waste of perfectly good love.
“Music, dancing, laughter, though I didn’t feel like laughing. Tequila worked pretty good. But there was something that worked a whole lot better.”
&
nbsp; “What?”
The memory of those days hit her so hard she clenched her hands. Loneliness, emptiness, despair. Searching never finding. Needing always wanting.
Kim forced herself to look Brian in the eyes when she told him the truth. “Men,” she blurted. “The dumber and prettier the better.”
He blinked as if she’d said she’d invited little green Martian men to supper.
She waited for him to get up and walk out, or to tell her to get out. He did nothing, merely frowned and stared at her some more.
“Brian? Did you hear what I said?”
“My wrists are broken. My hearing’s just fine.” He tilted his head. “So there are a lot of pretty dumb men in Savannah?”
“That isn’t funny.”
“Do you see me laughing? I’m just trying to figure out why you’re so upset.”
She gaped. Could he possibly not understand what she’d said? Did she have the courage to spell things out?
Brian beat her to it. “I withdrew from everyone. You went searching for someone.”
“Anyone,” she muttered.
He shrugged. “We all handle devastation in our own way, Kim. I only have one question.”
She cast him a wary glance. Whatever his question, she was certain the answer would hurt them both.
“Did it help?”
Her eyebrows shot up. That was one question she hadn’t expected and didn’t want to answer.
It hadn’t helped. Because none of them had been him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The phone rescued Kim from the unanswerable question. Brian answered, then passed it to her. “Your mother.”
She grabbed the receiver. This might be the first time she’d been overjoyed at a phone call from Mom.
“The doctor’s office just called to confirm my appointment in an hour. I didn’t know I had an appointment in an hour.”
“Oh!” She’d forgotten. “Sorry. There was a cancellation and I took it. I’ll be right over.”
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