I believe in faith. I believe in love. I believe that there is something bigger than me, and that belief guides my connections with others. It strengthens the strings that hold us all together. I believe in kindness and goodness and light. I can see that Daniel hasn’t let light in for a long time. Where there’s no light, feelings can’t grow.
I can’t be the light that shines on him unless he’s willing to open up and let me in. It doesn’t even have to be me that he lets in, but I hope it’s someone.
He’s asleep now on the sofa. He finally nodded off around two in the morning. I pull the blanket up under his chin like he’s a baby, and he flinches. I try not to wake him, but it looks like his dreams are unpleasant. I’m afraid if I shake him from them that he’ll startle. So, I brush a quick hand across his buzz cut and leave him.
I need to get a shower and get dressed. I’m still in my jammies. I walk upstairs and stick my head in Nan’s room. Granddad has crawled in her hospital bed with her, and she’s curled up with him spooning her. They end up like this most nights. I watch them for a moment and wonder what it’ll be like when she’s gone. How badly will he grieve? How much will he miss her? Will he shut down like Daniel has? Or will he seek comfort from other connections?
I grab a shower and dress warmly in a sweatshirt and jeans, and put on my thickest socks and my boots. There’s still snow on the ground and it can get chilly in the basement. But I want to finish Daniel’s watch. I pour two cups of coffee just in case he’s awake. If he’s not, I’ll just drink them both.
I open the door to the basement and I can hear him snoring softly from the bottom of the steps. He has lifted his feet up on the couch and the blankets are pulled up to his chest. Well, one foot. The other, he has removed and it’s lying on the floor beside him. Apparently, he made himself comfortable when he saw that I was gone.
I work on his watch until the sun comes up, and I drink both the cups of coffee. I can’t get the damn watch to work, and no matter how many times I take it apart, it won’t work on its own power. I don’t know what more I can do. Granddad comes down the stairs and looks at me. His brow lifts. He’s carrying a full pot of coffee. I still haven’t slept from the night before, but I slept some of the day yesterday when Nan was sleeping. She has these crazy sleep cycles.
“You still working on that thing?” he asks quietly as he gets close to me.
I throw my hands up in surrender. “I’ve taken it apart and put it back together more times than I can count,” I explain. “I can’t think of any reason why it won’t work.” I motion him closer. He pours a fresh cup of coffee for me.
Granddad lifts his glasses to his nose and looks down at the watch. “Something is broken, but I’m not sure it’s something you’ll be able to fix, Faithy,” he says. I like it when he adds a silly y to my name. “Sometimes, these things are beyond our control.”
“It hasn’t worked since the blast,” I explain. “The one where he lost his leg and his team.” Granddad looks over at him.
“I didn’t even notice his leg last night,” he says. He blows out a breath. He looks me in the eye. “You want to fix him or the watch?” he asks.
“Oh, stop,” I complain. “It’s only a watch. I just can’t figure out what’s wrong with it.”
“Sometimes they just give up, Faith.” He starts to tinker with the watch. “You remember what that was like, don’t you?” He looks into my eyes and then goes back to the watch. “I’d say this one gave up a while ago.” I feel like Granddad is talking about more than the broken timepiece. He’s talking about the man. And I’m afraid he’s right. “What does he have left to live for?” Granddad asks me quietly. His words aren’t more than a breath in the quiet space.
“Can you fix it?” I ask. “He’s all alone,” I say. I look over at him. He’s stirring.
“You’re never alone, Faithy. You know this.” He looks up at me with a telling glance.
“I know. But sometimes you can feel like you are.”
He looks up at me over the rims of his glasses. “You’re not talking about yourself are you? Because I will have to take you out to the woodshed if you are.”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t have a woodshed, Granddad.”
“You get the idea,” he growls.
“I was talking about him,” I admit. “But he says he’s going to join his team tomorrow. That’s good, right?”
Granddad nods. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Daniel sit up. He scrubs a hand across his hair and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. He pulls his pant leg up and puts his prosthesis back on. Standing up gingerly, he settles his weight onto both limbs. He walks over to us.
“’Morning,” Granddad says. But his attention is on the watch.
“Good morning,” Daniel replies. He looks at me and smiles shyly. It’s really rather endearing, and my heart does this pitter patter thing in my chest that scares me a little.
“Coffee?” I ask.
He nods and looks grateful, so I use the cup I brought down for him earlier and fill it up.
“Black okay?” I ask.
He smiles. “Perfect.” He takes a sip and nods to his watch. “Did you get it to work?”
I bite my lips together and shake my head. “I’m sorry. I took it apart several times, and I can’t find any reason why it’s not working.”
“I always assumed the blast loosened things up inside it.”
I shake my head again. “Everything is fine on the inside. It’s sound.”
Daniel
My watch is exactly like me. It’s dead on the inside. And it’s not going to start back up any more than I am.
Henry snaps the back onto the watch and passes it to me. “I’m very sorry, young man,” he says. “I hoped we could help.”
I take it from him and put it back on my arm. “Thank you for trying,” I say. I shake his hand and he grips mine tightly. I reach into my back pocket and pull out my wallet. “How much do I owe you?”
Henry shakes his head. “Not a thing. We couldn’t fix it. You don’t pay.” He nods to me and goes back upstairs. He turns back at the last minute and says, “Happy new year, son.”
“Thank you, sir,” I say back. The door closes behind him.
Faith blows out a heavy sigh. “He looks so tired,” Faith says. “But he keeps going. He never gives up.” She blows out a heavy breath.
“Did you sleep?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Not yet.”
Her hair is loose around her shoulders, now. Earlier, it was in a messy, beautiful knot on top of her head. She’s wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, and she looks comfortable. I jerk a thumb toward the couch. “I hope it’s okay that I slept on the couch. I woke up and you were gone.”
She smiles. “I just went to check on Nan and take a shower.” She picks up my arm and looks down at my watch, biting her lower lip between her teeth. “I’m sorry I couldn’t fix it. I know it’s important to you.”
I shrug. “It’s not important.” Or at least it won’t be after tonight. “It was one of many things on a list I have to get done today.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “What else is on your list?”
“Just some stupid stuff,” I murmur, more to myself than to her.
“Such as…” She leaves the question hanging in the air between us.
Heat creeps up my cheeks. I don’t know why my list embarrasses me. “I wanted to get a tattoo. So I got one last night.”
“Oh,” she says, brightening visibly. “Can I see?”
My face heats even more. I lift my sleeve though, and let her look at it. Instead of reaching for the tattoo, her fingers tentatively slide down the burns on my forearm, just below it.
“Did this happen in Afghanistan?” she asks. Her hand trembles against my skin, and I want to jerk her to me. But I have nothing to offer her. Nothing at all.
I nod. I lift my sleeve a little more, hoping that she’ll stop drawing that little circle on my forearm. Yet I secretly hope she w
on’t stop. In fact, I want her to open her hand and press it to my skin. I want to keep it there. I blow out a breath, and she’s so close to me that her hair raises.
“Nice ink,” she says. I nod and pull my sleeve down. She grins. “Do you want to see mine?”
She pulls back the sleeve of her sweatshirt and turns her wrist up. She has a small infinity circle on her inner wrist. It’s dainty and girly and fits her.
“Infinite love and gratitude,” she says. She draws out the G hidden in the middle of the tattoo with the tip of her finger so I can see it. The end of the infinity symbol is shaped like a heart.
“Infinite love and gratitude,” I repeat. This woman chokes me up every fucking time. “What are you grateful for?” I look into her green eyes.
She heaves a sigh. “A better question would be what am I not grateful for today.” She starts to clean up her work area. “I’m grateful I woke up today.” She grins. “Well, yesterday.”
“What else?” I ask. I hitch my hip on the edge of her table.
She turns around and lifts the hair from the back of her neck. “I have another one here,” she says. She smiles at me from over her shoulder.
“Another tat?” I ask. I wanted to know what else she was grateful for.
She nods, and I walk closer. I brush the tendrils of hair from the nape of her neck. She shivers lightly, but she’s still smiling.
“A butterfly,” I say. “That’s original.”
“I was eighteen,” she complains. But she’s grinning, so I know she’s not mad.
“A rebellion thing?” I ask.
She nods, and her face flushes. “I got in so much trouble,” she says. Then she blows out a playful breath. “I thought my dad was going to kill me.”
“Do you have any more?” I ask.
Her face flushes. She does.
“Where?” I ask.
“Other places,” she mutters. She suddenly is really interested in cleaning her workspace.
“Like where?” I tease. My heart feels lighter right now than it has in a really long time. I’m not sure I like it.
“If you must know, I have one on my butt.”
She turns away from me, and all I can do is look at her ass. She does fill out her jeans nicely, but I’m dying to see that tattoo. “Can I see that one?” I ask. A grin tugs at my lips. It’s such a foreign feeling that I don’t know what to do with it. It falls from my lips.
She snorts. “You get many girls out of their pants with that line?” she asks. She pours another cup of coffee for me when she sees me tip my cup up to drink the last drop.
“Thanks,” I say. I look into her green eyes. “There haven’t been any girls in a long time,” I say. I motion toward my leg. “It took me a while to learn to use this thing.”
“You done learning how to use it yet?” she asks. She smirks at me over the rim of her mug.
I nod. “As done as I’m going to get.” I let my gaze roam up and down her body, and she glares at me and crosses her arms under her breasts. “Sorry,” I murmur. “I can’t help it if you’re fucking beautiful.”
She grins and blushes and it makes her even prettier. I’m doomed. Fucking doomed.
“I guess I should let you get back to work,” I say. “Or to bed. Or whatever it is you do during the day.” I look toward the door. “Do you know what time the street vendors start selling hot chestnuts and hot chocolate?”
Her brow rises. “You eat chestnuts and hot chocolate for breakfast?”
“It’s on my list.” I pull it from my pocket and look down at it. My bucket list is pretty silly now that I think about it. I should probably just go to the hotel and sleep.
She leans over to look at my list. “What else is on it?” Her eyes open wide and she says, “A Broadway play? On New Year’s Eve?”
I nod.
“Can I go?” she whispers. She grabs my arm and looks into my eyes. “Take me with you?”
Faith
I can’t believe I asked him that. I want to bite the words back, but they’re already out there. The look on his face is painful in its intensity. He lifts a brow, trying to act like I haven’t scared him, but I think I did. “You want to go see a Broadway play? With me?”
I nod, biting my lower lip between my teeth. His gaze rakes across my mouth, lingering there, and he presses his lips together. “I’ve always wanted to go.” I shrug. I’m embarrassed.
“My mother used to take me every year. We would walk around the city and eat hot chestnuts, drink chocolate, and do all the things on my list on New Year’s Eve.” He shrugs, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “I don’t even know what’s playing tonight.”
“Cinderella,” I breathe. “Rodgers and Hammerstein’s.” I sometimes feel like Cinderella. I take care of everyone else, but no one takes care of me. Not anymore. Granddad is busy with Nan, and Nan is too ill to do much more than exist. My parents think I’m invincible, but I need things too. I just don’t want anyone to know it. I wave a breezy hand in the air. “You know what?” I say. “Never mind. It was a silly impulse.”
“Do you need to go and get your purse?” he says. He grins, though, and he has color on his cheeks for the first time since I met him.
I pat my pockets. I have my credit card and my identification. That’s all I ever carry. But I would need something to wear to the theater. “Are you serious?” I ask. “You want me to go with you?”
He shrugs. But he’s still smiling. He looks younger when he smiles. And he’s so handsome that he takes my breath. “Do I need to ask your granddad’s permission?” he whispers playfully.
I nod. He probably does. He sits back, looking down his nose at me like he’s startled.
“I do, don’t I?” he asks.
I nod again. “It’s the gentlemanly thing to do,” I say playfully.
“Damn, you’re going to make me work for it,” he mutters. But he’s still smiling.
Yes, I’m making him work for it. Because he needs to work for something he wants. “Can you come upstairs while I get a few things together?” I ask. I watch his face. I’m still not sure if he wants me to go or if he’s humoring me.
He nods and grins, shaking his head. But he starts up the stairs. When he gets to the top, he stops. “Should I knock?” he asks.
I reach by him to turn the nob, and he weaves a little, unsteady on the stairs. Oh, shit. I just made him walk up the stairs on his prosthetic leg. I’m an idiot. He inhales as he reaches for the rail behind me. He closes his eyes and a little hum vibrates past his lips. I look up at him. He’s sniffing me? I freeze, and just watch his face. He looks peaceful. My heart starts to skitter when he opens his brown eyes and stares into mine.
“You just smelled me,” I whisper.
“Yep,” he says. He grins. He looks more boyish than he has since he came into the shop and my heart trips. His voice is soft when he replies. “You smell nice.”
“Nice?” I snort. “Just what every girl wants to hear.”
He grins. “What?” he asks. “Nice is good.”
“Babies smell nice.” I scrunch up my face. “Public restrooms smell nice.”
He chuckles. “I think your definition of nice is very different from mine.” He scrubs a hand down his face, like he’s wiping a smile away.
I poke a finger into his chest. “What’s so amusing?” I ask.
“Babies stink. And so do public restrooms.” He leans forward, and I feel his breath, hot and humid against the side of my neck. Wind moves by my ear, and he inhales deeply. His voice is harsh when he says close, “You’re right. You don’t smell nice at all. You smell fucking hot.” His nose brushes the side of my neck with gentle little sweeps] and goose bumps erupt on my arms.
“Hot?” I breathe. Well, I sort of breathe it. It’s more like I choke it out. Like a kid who hocks out a hot dog bit that gets stuck in his throat.
He shakes his head. “No. I said fucking hot.” He leans close to me again and closes his eyes, inhaling deeply.
&nbs
p; “It’s antiperspirant and coffee,” I say. I cough into my closed fist, because my throat is tight.
He shakes his head. “It’s you.” He looks into my eyes.
Suddenly the door to the upstairs opens, and I almost fall into the room. But Granddad reaches for me and steadies me. “You two going to do it on the stairs, or you coming inside?” he asks. He taps his foot. I can tell he’s annoyed. But he’s still being nice. For now. He glares at Daniel. “I thought you said goodbye a few minutes ago.”
“He tried,” I chirp. Granddad is fucking with him. And enjoying it. He doesn’t get to enjoy much these days. “But I begged him to take me with him.”
Granddad’s brow arches. “Take you with him where?” he barks.
I wave a breezy hand in the air. “Back to his hotel room, so we don’t have to do it on the stairs.” I walk past Granddad and toward my room. I can hear Daniel sputtering and I am suddenly glad I’m in my room where he can’t see me, because I can’t stop laughing. I go into the bathroom and grab a few toiletries, my makeup, and then I sort through my closet looking for a dress. I pull out a slinky one that’s just wisps of fabric on the rack and stuff it into my purse. Shoes go in next. I look around. That’s all I need. I walk back out to the kitchen where I think I’ll find Granddad glaring at Daniel. But they’re not there. I hear the rumble of a hearty chuckle from Nan’s room and stick my head in. I freeze when I see Nan sitting up. She’s flirting like crazy with Daniel, and he’s flirting back. His cheeks are all rosy and Granddad is smiling. He likes it when Nan’s happy. Nothing makes him more content than the sight of her smile.
He looks at me over the top of Daniel’s head and grins. He likes him. I like him too, but I’m not sure he wants to be liked. Daniel gets to his feet. “Are you ready to go?” he asks.
I nod and he takes Nan’s hand in his and raises it to his lips. Her face gets pink and she makes a tittering noise. He tells her how wonderful it was to meet such a young and beautiful woman. He winks at me. And Nan eats it up. I suddenly feel tears sting my eyes and I blink them back furiously.
Finally Finding Faith Page 3
