Like One of the Family

by Kimberly Van Meter

  Heath smiled, or at least he tried to smile. His mouth stubbornly refused to cooperate.

  “I know I’ve pretended not to remember but I remember bringing you that basket of food. I was so worried about you. I worried that no one was feeding you and that no one tucked you into bed at night. I looked for you the next day but didn’t see you. I looked for you for two straight weeks. You never showed. I thought you were dead. A year went by and I had to put away all the feelings I didn’t know how to handle and forget about you. But then you showed up again and I was angry with you for making me think you were gone from my life. I’d missed you so much. I’d wondered where you went and why you hadn’t told me. You were just gone. And I couldn’t take one more person leaving me.”

  Heath remembered that day with the basket. It was etched in his memory. It might’ve even sealed her fate in his eyes. He’d followed her to Larimar, saw the beautiful place she called home, and knew he’d never be worthy of a girl like her. But when he returned home, he discovered his parents had decided to move to St. Thomas. They were packing their meager belongings into the ratty Suzuki Samurai. His stuff had been forgotten.

  “What’s going on?” he’d asked, his heart plummeting when he saw that they’d planned to leave him. “Where are you going?”

  His mom, teeth missing from too many years doing crack, had looked nervous and twitchy. “Just going to St. Thomas for a bit to get a job, baby. There’s no way to make a living here, you know?”

  “But what about me?” he’d asked, his young voice faltering. His parents were probably the worst but at least he didn’t come home to an empty house every night. “You can’t leave me…”

  “Baby, we’ll be back,” his mother had promised. “You’re a big boy, you can handle being on your own for a few nights, right?”

  But as his stare traveled to the stacked Samurai, he knew they weren’t coming back. He was on his own.

  And he’d been right.

  It was a year of hell and he didn’t want the pretty girl to see how pathetic he was. He’d actually tried to find his parents in St. Thomas but it was like trying to find a single, particular grain of sand in the ocean. Impossible.

  When Pops had found him, digging through a restaurant Dumpster, he’d brought him home for a meal and made a deal with him.

  “Son, are you a hard worker or are you lazy?” Pops had asked him.

  “I’m a hard worker,” he’d answered in earnest, hoping for a sandwich in return for mowing the lawn or picking weeds from the garden. That’s how he’d stayed alive to this point.

  “We’ll see,” Pops had said. “I’ll tell you what, you can do odd jobs around Larimar but if I discover you’re lazy and looking for a free ride, it’s out you go. Got it? Where are your parents?”

  “St. Thomas,” Heath had answered in a barely audible whisper. Pops knew his parents weren’t around. Everyone knew Heath’s parents were addicted to crack. He was “that poor boy” but no one lifted a finger to help.

  Except Pops.

  He did more than that—he taught him how to be a man with self-respect and dignity, integrity and honesty.

  He owed that man his life.

  And he would never repay that generosity by messing around with the man’s granddaughters, even if the very sight of Lora had caused his heart to flutter like a butterfly’s wings.

  So he’d loved her from a distance.

  But now he could hear her voice, telling him stories, sharing personal bits of herself that she never would’ve shared in a million years. He wondered briefly if he was dying.

  “I was actually jealous of you for a time when Grams decided to homeschool you. I wanted to be homeschooled, too, but Grams said I was too smart for her and I needed the structure of the school system. I guess she was right. I would’ve ran circles around her. I was voracious in my need to conquer every obstacle in my path, including homework.”

  He wanted to laugh. The idea of Grams trying to homeschool Lora was crazy. Lora’s Type A personality would’ve driven Grams to drink rum for breakfast. His style of learning had been more laid-back. He and Grams had gotten along well. For the first time ever, he’d started to enjoy schoolwork. Because of Grams he’d graduated a straight-A student. If Pops had taught him to be a man, Grams had given him the gift of knowledge.

  “Remember when you had that crush on Samira Jones in high school? I was turned inside out and backward with jealousy. I wanted to rip out each of her braids and smack her with them.”

  Samira…he chuckled. He wanted to admit to Lora—since she was in the sharing mood—that he’d never truly liked Samira that way, he’d just been trying to finally get Lora’s attention. It had backfired. He’d learned quickly that Lora wasn’t easily manipulated, yet another aspect of Lora that he admired.

  “I was fired from my job,” she said, drawing a deep breath. “When I got your certified letter, I’d been clearing out my desk. It wasn’t your fault that the letter arrived with impeccable timing. I took out my frustrations on you and Larimar. I’m…sorry. For so many things, Heath. I’m so sorry. I don’t even know why you ever fell in love with me. I wish I could see me through your eyes for once. Maybe then I’d learn to trust what I don’t understand. Because if I were you, I’d steer clear of someone like me.”

  The quiet, pain-filled admission struck at his heart. And he wanted to tell her all the reasons why she was the only one for him, why she was ever the only one for him, but his body felt locked and out of his control. Frustration gnawed at him and he forced himself to focus. Open your eyes. Move your mouth. Say something! A garbled mess of incoherent moaning escaped from his mouth and he heard Lora’s sharp gasp.

  “Mmmwwhhstummnn.” That wasn’t exactly what he’d been going for. He tried again, his throat moving in rusty movements to produce sound. “Lllora.”

  “Heath? Are you awake? Oh, my God, Heath! Hold on, let me get the doctor!”

  Within seconds Lora had produced a doctor, likely she dragged the first man in a white lab coat she could find into Heath’s room, and a light was shone into his eyes. He blinked and tried to shy away from the source but his muscles were sluggish and not fully cooperating.

  “Hello, Mr. Cannon. I’m Dr. Welsh. Can you blink your eyes for me?” He worked at it and managed a slow blink. “Good. Can you wiggle your toes?” That was a bit more difficult but he managed by concentrating deeply on making it happen.

  “Excellent. Your motor skills are returning. It seems your brush with death has left less of a lasting mark than we feared. You’re a lucky man.”

  He heard Lora start peppering the doctor with questions about his recovery and he wanted to laugh. Ever the bulldog. God, he loved that woman.

  With great effort, he kept his eyes open and he immediately tracked the sound of her voice to find her face. She glanced over and found him staring at her. She seemed to forget the doctor and her list of questions and simply held his stare.

  He saw a wealth of emotion—fear, happiness, joy, nervousness—staring back at him.

  Dr. Welsh, sensing they needed some privacy, said he’d come back a little later to run some neurological tests and then left them alone.

  “You’re going to be all right,” she said.

  He tried to nod but the motion sent excruciating pain into his brain. He winced and she was instantly by his side. “What’s wrong? Should I get the doctor again?”

  “No,” he answered, clumsily reaching for her hand. His strength wasn’t there so he couldn’t pull her to him but she got the message and sat by his side. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I shouldn’t have been on the roof during that storm. It was stupid. I knew better. I was mad and wanted to punish you for being honest with me.”

  She shook her head vehemently, tears filling her eyes. “Don’t you dare make excuses for
me, Heath Cannon. I was the one who’d pushed you away because I was scared. I’d always known how you felt about me but I kept pushing you away because I knew if I gave in to the feelings, I would fall head over heels in love with you and I wasn’t ready. I do love you, Heath. It sounds terrible but the minute you fell from that roof I knew. And I was terrified that you’d never wake up and I’d never get the chance to tell you how sorry I was for being…well, so awful to you for so long. It was selfish of me to think only of myself. Can you ever forgive me?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive. As Grams used to say, ‘I love you for your flaws.’” He tried grinning, but the action exhausted him.

  “Grams was a smart lady,” Lora said, her voice breaking. “I wish she were still here. Maybe she might’ve been able to talk some sense into me sooner.”

  “That’s what she said,” he murmured, the need to sleep stealing what energy he had left, leaving Lora to stare quizzically.

  The last thing he remembered as he dropped off was the wonderful pressure of Lora’s hand clutching his and he knew everything was going to be all right. Somehow.

  EPILOGUE

  IT’D BEEN SEVERAL WEEKS since Heath’s accident and Lora was discovering she was neither a good nursemaid nor a talented glass-fusion artist.

  “I don’t know why you enjoy this,” Lora said, dropping the misshapen mess of fused gunk into the recycle bucket to try again later. Her finished products were nothing like Heath’s. “It’s hot, boring and my back is killing me,” she said, a hint of petulance in her voice.

  He laughed and gathered her in his arms. “So I take it glass fusion is not your thing?”

  “No.”

  “I told you it was an art form, not just some process of throwing together a bunch of broken glass to melt together. But you had to try it for yourself. Now will you let Lilah take over? She’s got more of an eye for this stuff.”

  “Yes,” Lora agreed reluctantly. “I just hate the idea of someone else having that in common with you. It’s a bonding thing, you know?”

  He drew her closer and nuzzled her neck. “We have something else that bonds us. And if I recall, that’s even more fun than fusing glass. And more effective.”

  Her cheeks heated and her breath caught when she recalled earlier that morning. Heath was still recovering so they had to be careful, which is why she insisted on doing all the work—particularly in the bedroom. She’d bonded with him multiple times once the doctor gave them the reluctant okay to resume their sex life.

  And hearing him gasp her name was a thrill she’d never tire of hearing.

  Luckily for her, Heath felt the same way.

  As she snuggled up to Heath, deeply content in a way she’d never known, she marveled at the power loving the right person could have on your perspective.

  Larimar was still in danger. The IRS had accepted their payment arrangement but there was still a large bill hanging over their heads with an uncertain prospect of meeting the obligation; Pops was still having imaginary conversations with his dead wife; and Lindy and Lilah were intensely displeased with Lora’s decision to make the resort more accessible to certain groups but in spite of these things, she couldn’t be happier.

  Love…so this was what she’d been so afraid of all these years?

  Seemed silly now, especially when she thought of all that wasted time.

  Speaking of…she let her hand drift south. Heath’s sharp intake of breath made her smile.

  “How about a little afternoon delight?”

  Heath groaned playfully but started to eagerly unlace his board shorts. “You’re the boss… .” And within moments his mouth was on hers, showing her with his actions that she was the only woman for him—and always had been.

  Funny how it had taken nearly losing him to realize the same thing about him.

  Well, as Grams used to say, “There is no rhyme or reason to the logic of the heart.”

  Amen to that.

  She hoped wherever Grams was, she was happy. Her sugar bird had finally realized home was where the heart was.

  And as she felt Heath’s touch on her body, she knew without a doubt that she was home.

  * * * * *

  ISBN: 9781459227750

  Copyright © 2012 by Kimberly Sheetz

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