“So two days a week, huh? You’ve already got it lined up?”
“Yes. But I don’t start until after the first of the year.” A slow spark filled her eyes. “You know what? About the wedding, why not?” Hayley had fallen asleep in her arms. She stood, struggling to hold the child against her chest. “Can you take that blanket from the back of the couch and lay it on the floor for me?”
“Sure.” Ashley did as Brooke asked.
“Thanks.” She laid Hayley on her side and bunched up the blanket to keep her propped that way. When Hayley was settled, Brooke flipped a switch and flames in the gas fireplace sprang to life. The effect was wonderful, especially against the backdrop of falling snow through the adjacent windows and with the candle burning in the next room.
Brooke sat on the sofa a few feet from Ashley. “Are you sure you could take Maddie?”
“Of course.” The idea was taking root, giving Ashley a reason to smile without having to work at it. “Cole loves Maddie. He’ll be less bored on the flight if he has his cousin with him.”
“And I truly want to see Luke get married. He and Reagan have been through so much.” Brooke leaned against the sofa, her expression wistful. “Makes me think of you and Landon Blake.”
Ashley felt her smile fade. “Yeah.” No matter how much time passed, his name would always make her heart hurt.
Brooke studied her. “I haven’t heard much about him lately. Is he coming home when he’s done his year?”
“No.” Ashley didn’t want to talk about Landon, but Brooke needed to know. She’d been too involved with Hayley to realize what was happening outside the hospital walls. The situation with Landon was one of the things she had missed.
“Really?” Brooke’s eyebrows came together, her expression curious. “You were in Manhattan a few months ago, right? Wasn’t he planning to come home?”
“He was, but . . .” Ashley folded her arms and pressed them against her middle. “He got a promotion.” She tried to smile, but her mouth wouldn’t obey. “He’ll be a captain after the first of the year.”
“So . . .” A grin tugged at Brooke’s lips. “Does that mean you’ll be spending more time in New York?”
Ashley shook her head, and then leaned back against the arm of the sofa. It was no use hiding the truth from Brooke; she would find out sooner or later. “Things are over between us, Brooke. They have been for a few months now.”
Pain filled Brooke’s eyes, and she reached out and took hold of Ashley’s hands. “Oh, Ash, I’m sorry.” She hesitated and for the first time that day she looked defeated. “What is it about love, anyway? How come we can’t figure out how to make it last?”
“Life is never that easy.”
“No—” Brooke looked at Hayley, sleeping on the floor— “it isn’t, is it?” She found Ashley’s eyes again. “I really thought you and Landon would find a way.”
“Me, too.” Ashley’s eyes stung.
“So . . .” Brooke released Ashley’s hands and searched her face. “What happened? Can I ask?”
“Well . . .” Ashley’s eyes were brimming now, making it hard for her to see.
“Hey.” Brooke scooted closer, her eyes never leaving Ashley’s. “You don’t have to tell me; it’s okay.”
Ashley shook her head. “No, it’s not that.” She blinked and the tears subsided. “Nothing happened between Landon and me; that’s not the problem.”
“It’s not?” Brooke sat back a bit.
“No.” Ashley dried her cheeks with her fingertips. “I love Landon more than ever.”
Brooke narrowed her eyes. “Did he . . . did he find someone else?”
“No.” Suddenly Ashley knew it was time. Time to share the bigger truth with Brooke, the one that she’d only shared with her mom and dad and Luke and Landon until now. “It’s me, Brooke. Something’s wrong with me, and I can’t . . . I had to let him go.”
The color drained from Brooke’s face. “Something’s wrong with you?”
Ashley didn’t want to keep her waiting. She steeled herself against any more tears and leveled her gaze at her sister. “Remember when I went to Paris? I came back with Cole, but I never talked much about his father.”
Brooke’s eyes were wide, fearful. “I remember. None of us wanted to ask, unless you wanted to talk about him.”
“Right.” Ashley pulled her legs up onto the sofa and hugged her knees. “He was an artist, someone famous. He . . . he was married, but he was very active outside his home.”
The surprise showed in Brooke’s eyes, but she said nothing.
“I was taken by him, I guess, impressed by his talent.” Ashley’s stomach hurt. The story never got easier to tell. “After a while I started sleeping with him, and before too long, I was pregnant.”
Brooke was patient, her expression sympathetic as she waited for the rest of the story.
“I found out later that he had affairs with men and women.” Ashley wrinkled her nose. The words tasted bitter on her tongue. “Anyway, a few months back I got a call from someone at the art gallery in Paris.” She closed her eyes for a moment and then met Brooke’s stare, willing her to think the same of her when she was finished telling the story. “Cole’s father died of AIDS, Brooke. I was on a list of people who might be affected.”
Brooke’s lower jaw fell and her mouth fell open. “No, Ash.”
“Yes.” Her eyes were dry now. This part of the story was simple, dispassionate, factual; it was the part about losing Landon that broke her heart. “I went to a clinic an hour outside of Bloomington and had my blood tested.” She nodded. “I’m HIV-positive, Brooke. And that’s why I can’t be with Landon.” Her eyes grew watery again. “I told him to move on with his life. I can’t risk infecting him, Brooke. I won’t do it.”
No words came for Brooke. Instead she wrapped her arms around Ashley’s neck and pulled her close, holding her for a long time before drawing back and searching her eyes. “You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“Oh . . .” Brooke gasped and put her fingers to her mouth. “What about Cole?”
“I had him tested at his last checkup. I told the doctor I wanted it for his records, and the man didn’t ask any questions.” Ashley inhaled. “Cole’s fine. His blood is normal.”
“And what about you? Are you hooked up with a good doctor?” Brooke barely took time to grab a breath. She sat up straighter and continued. “We have several specialists here because of the university, and any of them would have access to the latest medicine, the latest technology, so you couldn’t be in a better place. Is it Dr. Mayer in the west medical building or—”
“Brooke.” Ashley held up her hand and gave a short shake of her head. “I’m not seeing a doctor yet.” She let her knees fall into a cross-legged position. “I’m taking protein supplements, vitamins to boost my immune system. I want to wait until after the holidays before starting treatment.”
“What?” Brooke’s eyes flew open twice as wide as before. She stood and paced the length of the sofa and back, her eyes never leaving Ashley’s. “What are you saying, Ashley?” She kept her voice quiet, even though her tone was intense. “You mean you’ve known you’re HIV-positive for months now and haven’t seen a doctor?”
“Now you sound like Dad.”
“Dad knows?” The revelations seemed to be hitting Brooke like a series of bombs. “Dad knows and he hasn’t forced you into one of the local offices?”
“He’s tried.”
Brooke stopped pacing. “So what’s the reason? Don’t you realize that early treatment can keep AIDS from developing for years, decades, even?”
“I’ve researched it.” Ashley rested her elbows on her knees. “It’s okay if I wait.” Her voice dropped some. “I guess I’m not ready for the side effects. Not ready to feel different because of some strange chemicals in my blood.”
Brooke opened her mouth as if she wanted to argue with Ashley, but then her shoulders fell and her lips came together. “Okay. I understand. But get in as
soon as the holidays are over, Ashley. I mean it.” The fight was gone from her voice. “Anything could trigger AIDS if you’re not in treatment.”
“I know.”
For a moment neither of them said anything. The only sound was Hayley’s quiet snore, the distant laughter of Cole and Maddie, and the soft whir of the fire. Finally Brooke pursed her lips and looked at Ashley. “What does Landon think about it?”
“He wants to marry me.” Ashley squinted against the stinging in her eyes. “He took the promotion because I refused his ring.” She folded her hands. If only her stomach didn’t hurt so much. “I won’t put him at risk, Brooke; I won’t do it.”
“Well, then, there’s another reason to see a specialist.”
“What?” Ashley moved her feet back to the floor. She sat near the edge of the sofa and looked at her older sister. Her heart beat suddenly faster than before. “Why would that give me another reason to get treatment?”
“Because these days they can work with couples, Ashley. So that Landon wouldn’t have to face any significant risk.”
Their conversation continued for another hour, but through every part of it, Ashley could only think of what Brooke had said. They had ways to work with couples. It was something she hadn’t considered, not once since receiving her diagnosis. HIV was a death sentence for most people; of course Landon would be at risk.
But if he wouldn’t be . . .
Ashley tried to tell herself that the revelation didn’t mean anything, because every case was different. And of course it would still be risky for her and Landon to marry. And most of all, he’d committed his future to New York City, a place where she couldn’t possibly live—healthy or not. A city like that would kill her creativity.
But she couldn’t shake the feeling of hope that had come over her. A feeling that had started with Cole’s interaction with Hayley and continued on with the idea that maybe—just maybe—her blood wouldn’t represent a risk for Landon.
When the visit was over, Brooke and the girls moved to the door to tell Ashley and Cole good-bye. Maddie pushed Hayley’s wheelchair, and once more Cole walked in front of her, turning every few seconds to make a silly face or say a silly rhyme. Anything to make Hayley laugh.
In the car, Cole waited until he was buckled in. Then he said, “I thought you said she was hurt, Mommy. But she’s the same old funny Hayley.”
Ashley did a sad, quiet huff, her heart bursting with gratitude for the simplicity of her son’s love.
“Yes, Cole. Just the same.”
And as she thought about their visit and Cole’s easy acceptance of Hayley’s new condition, Ashley could only beg God for one thing.
That however much ground Hayley did or didn’t gain over the next few years, everyone who met her would see what Cole had seen. That deep down she wasn’t a brain-damaged child or a drowning victim fighting various stages of vegetative behavior.
But rather she was simply Hayley. The same old funny Hayley.
The day had been so good, Brooke couldn’t resist. She’d had time to think about the situation with Peter, and these days her anger toward him rarely surfaced. Yes, he’d made a mistake. He’d taken his eyes off Hayley when he should’ve been watching her. He’d taken her life jacket off instead of keeping it on her like he’d promised he would do. But obviously the pain of what had happened that day was hurting him as much as it was hurting her.
And clearly he wasn’t handling the pain.
She wasn’t sure if her family’s suspicions about the pain meds were founded, but she could see in Peter’s face that he was tormented. In the past days more often than not she would be working with Hayley or helping Maddie with her bath and an image would come to mind. Peter, the way he looked that night at the hospital room, holding on to Hayley’s feet as she cried. The helpless look in his eyes and the vacant stare as he bid them both good-bye.
He wasn’t trying to destroy their family; he himself was already destroyed, devastated by what had happened. Since that awful Saturday he’d done nothing but spin wildly out of control. And even though they’d been at odds before Hayley’s accident, Brooke couldn’t find it in her heart to hate him now.
Tonight, with their home so warm and inviting, Brooke wanted a second chance, an hour or two to welcome Peter back, to take him in her arms and rock away the pain and horror of all they’d been through. She thought of his awful behavior, the cold way he’d treated her, and she knew she wasn’t feeling these things in her own strength. But living in the hospital, watching Hayley regain her sight and find a connection with her family again, had changed something in her heart.
Whatever it was, Brooke simply had no room in her life for hatred.
Maddie was watching a video in the next room, and beside her, Hayley sat strapped to her wheelchair. Maddie had her hand on top of Hayley’s, her fingers making soft circles on Hayley’s wrist.
Brooke looked in on them and the feeling in her heart swelled. Peter should be here; if he could see this, feel it, maybe we’d still have a chance. . . .
She didn’t wait another minute. Turning her back on the girls, she headed to the kitchen and picked up the phone. Working from a slip of paper where she’d written his new number, she dialed Peter and waited.
“Hello?” He sounded tired, as though maybe he’d been sleeping.
“Oh.” She hesitated. “Did I wake you?”
“Brooke?” Irritation tinged his voice. “What time is it?”
She shot a look at the clock on the microwave. “Not quite eight.”
“Okay.” He sounded more awake but no less irritated. “What’s up?”
“Well,” Brooke’s courage melted like the vanilla candle. She could no longer remember why she was calling or what had been so pressing that she’d had to call him. “I guess I wondered what you were doing.” A tense pause hung between them. “We’re all settled and, I don’t know, there’s a fire in the fireplace and the girls are . . .” Her words ran together and she clenched her fists. “The girls are awake and I thought maybe you could join us for an hour or so and . . .”
Silence.
“Peter?”
“Brooke, I’m half asleep. I don’t think . . .” He exhaled hard. “Not tonight.”
“Okay, I just thought . . .” Her voice trailed off and anger replaced her goodwill. “Never mind, Peter. Go back to sleep.”
“Don’t be mad, Brooke. I was tired, okay?” A sound that seemed half moan, half cry came from him. “I want to keep a friendly front. For the girls, anyway.”
“A front?” Was that what he thought this was? Her way of keeping up a good front for the girls? or at least for Maddie? All the hurt from the past few months came back threefold. “Good-bye, Peter.”
She hung up before he had a chance to say anything else, before his words could do more damage. Her angry mood lasted until she rejoined the girls. If Peter didn’t want to be part of the family, so be it. She could do as he asked; she could put up a friendly front. But next time she would know better than to believe they had a chance to ever reconnect again.
“Hi, Mommy.” Maddie pointed at the television screen. “It’s the best part, where the prince comes back and they live happily ever after.”
Brooke slipped in between the girls and put one arm around Maddie, her other arm alongside Hayley’s. As the movie played out, the joy from earlier today soothed her soul, and her anger faded once more. Peter wasn’t being himself; he was in too much pain to be part of their lives. At least for now.
After she tucked Maddie in and made sure Hayley was safely situated in her bed, she wandered about the house remembering. She remembered the beginning of her days with Peter, the promises they’d made to each other, and the way he’d wanted nothing more than to be a father.
No wonder her heart had grown soft toward Peter. He was the father of her children, the love of her life. Yes, he’d walked out but he couldn’t stay gone, couldn’t stay away forever. Even now—though it went against all reason—her d
esire to pray for him was stronger than her desire to hate him.
That has to be you, God.
Yes, daughter, pray . . . pray often.
The response was a subtle whisper, a reassurance that, indeed, her feelings of hope and grace toward her husband were nothing she had mustered up on her own.
Brooke closed her eyes. Be with him, God. He’s been mean and awful, but I know he has to be hurting. Maybe even hurting himself. She remembered how his hands had trembled back at the hospital that night, the night he told her he wanted a divorce. Maybe her family’s suspicions were right; maybe he was taking something to numb the pain.
A sigh made its way through her clenched teeth. Help me look for ways, Lord, ways to include him, to bring him back to me and the girls. Sometimes it all feels so hard.
A faint scent of vanilla brushed her senses and reminded her of the day’s warmth, the progress she’d seen with Hayley. Peter would come around eventually, and when he did, he would see how wrong he’d been. She yawned and rolled onto her side. Watching Cinderella with the girls had been the closest thing to a normal night they’d shared since Hayley’s accident. Maddie had been so sweet, clasping her hands and squealing about how wonderful it was that the prince had returned, how happy that life would have a happy ending after all.
As sleep found her, Brooke allowed herself to remember the days when Peter wouldn’t have considered missing such a night, back when he’d been every bit her Prince Charming. Her last thought was a simple one. A wish, really. That somehow God would change Peter’s heart—the same way he’d changed hers—and that one day soon they’d stumble onto the best part.
The part where the prince would come back and they would all live happily ever after.
Chapter Eighteen
From the moment they arrived in Manhattan, Elizabeth felt better than she had since summer.
The family had four adjoining rooms at the Marriott Marquis in the theater district of Manhattan’s Midtown West area—Kari and Ryan and Jessie in one room, Erin and Sam next to them, Ashley and Cole and Maddie in the third room, and Elizabeth and John in the fourth. Brooke and Hayley would stay with Ashley when they arrived on Tuesday.
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