Landon was still close, his mouth inches from hers. He whispered the words, slow and thoughtful. “Do you still love me, Ashley?”
She opened her eyes and felt herself falling into his stare, lost in his feelings for her. “Yes, Landon. I always will.”
“Okay, then.” He exhaled and allowed a bit of space between them. “Stay with me, here in New York, until New Year’s Day; would you do that, Ash? I have the week off, and Brooke could take Cole back on Saturday. Then you could get a hotel closer to my apartment. We’ll spend Christmas with your family tomorrow, walk along Fifth Avenue, and go to Times Square on New Year’s Eve.”
“Landon . . .” Ashley tried to contain her smile. She was about to tell him his idea was crazy when he started in again.
“We won’t talk about the future, Ash. But you won’t be seeing a doctor until you get back and then . . . well, by then everything will be different. You’ll be in and out of appointments, and I’ll be—”
“You’ll be a fire captain.” Her heart danced around inside her chest like a small child begging for one more carnival ticket.
“Yes.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Please. I’ll go crazy knowing you’re here and not seeing you.”
She felt the corners of her lips inch up into her cheeks. She would have to change her return date, but her ticket allowed for that. “Did you say art museums?”
“And Coney Island dogs.” Landon kissed her again, but not as long as before.
Ashley looked at him and bit her lip. The thrill from a moment earlier faded some. “What happens when the week’s over?”
“We ask God to help us find a way to say good-bye.”
“Again.”
“Yes.” He eased his arm around her shoulders once more. “Again.”
It was after eleven when the carriage came to a stop. Before taking her back to the hotel, Landon took her to a midnight Christmas Eve service at a church in downtown Manhattan.
They held hands as the preacher talked about making every minute of the new year count, about turning it into a gift for God, the way he’d turned the Christ child into a gift for all of mankind.
By the time Ashley got in that night, Brooke and the children were asleep. She tiptoed to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and climbed into bed. She was glad no one else was awake, glad to keep her feelings about the night to herself. She’d set out that night intent on having only a friendly conversation with Landon. Instead she’d made plans to spend the coming week with him.
She didn’t want Brooke’s approval or Cole’s excitement. Her relationship with Landon was over, so she didn’t want to spend one minute talking about the decision she’d just made. It was crazy, impulsive, and in the end it would hurt both of them when the week was over. But it was Christmas, and come January, everything about Ashley’s life would become more complicated. Yes, the reality of her situation would not change because of a week in Manhattan. In fact, there were a hundred ways she could’ve convinced herself to stay clear of Landon Blake next week, but all of them combined didn’t carry the weight of one single truth.
They might never have a chance like this again.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Christmas, in all its bittersweet array of emotions, was over, and Brooke had a full heart as she packed her suitcase. She and Hayley were catching a plane in the morning. Her parents would keep Maddie, and on Saturday Cole would fly home with them so Ashley could stay through New Year’s.
Brooke folded a pair of slacks and nodded to Ashley. “Could you hand me the sweater in the closet? I almost forgot it.”
Ashley grabbed it and tossed it to her. Then she flopped onto the bed, careful not to disturb Cole, who was sleeping on the other side. “Great day, huh?”
“Wonderful.” Joy and the hint of sorrow filled Brooke’s eyes. “Too bad Peter missed it.”
“Yes.”
They were quiet for a spell.
“It was fun, watching all the kids together, knowing that Reagan and Luke are finally married.”
Brooke raised an eyebrow at her. “Come on, Ashley. It was fun because Landon was there.”
“Well . . .” Ashley sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. “Maybe.”
“Please.” Brooke’s hands fell to her sides, the pair of pants forgotten. She stared at her younger sister. “You two look like parts of the same whole. And when Cole’s with him . . .”
“I know. I’m glad we’ll have this week.”
Brooke released a slow sigh. “You could have more than that if you were willing.”
Ashley’s smile dimmed. “We’ve been through that.”
“I know.” Brooke picked up the sweater, folded it, and set it into the suitcase. “I just think you’re being crazy, Ash. The man’s perfect for you and Cole; he’ll never love anyone like he loves you. It’s written all over everything he says and does when you’re together.”
Ashley bit her lip and looked at Cole. “I know. I see it, too.”
“But today was good for more than that reason. It was seeing Mom and Dad with all the kids, watching Mom’s face glow the way it hasn’t in months. And Hayley, sitting nearby as she responded to her cousins and aunts and uncles. All of it was wonderful.”
“Except for Peter.” Ashley angled her face, her eyes narrowed.
“Except for Peter.” Brooke stopped folding again and stared out the window. “I think I know what happened, Ash.”
“What?”
“I stopped needing him.” She dropped to the edge of the bed and let her eyes fall on Hayley’s sleeping form. “When we met, I needed him because he was a doctor and I was a lowly med student. A dozen times a week I asked him for advice or help with a study sheet. He was tall, intelligent, everything to me. Boyfriend, confidant, study partner, and a raving success on top of it. In a professional sense, he was everything I wanted to be.”
An understanding look filled Ashley’s eyes. “And then you became him.”
“Exactly. Bit by bit I accomplished everything he’d done, and maybe . . . maybe I didn’t need him anymore.”
“He started seeing you as competition instead of a wife.”
“Exactly.”
The idea was so new it hadn’t taken complete root in Brooke’s heart, but for the first time she could connect the dots of her past. Maddie’s health, Hayley’s accident—those things had added to their problems, but they hadn’t caused them.
And neither had Peter, really.
Brooke turned to Ashley, her head reeling. “It was my fault, Ash. I became his equal, and I didn’t see him in the same light anymore, didn’t adore him.” She lifted one shoulder. “He didn’t know how to handle it, or even how to love me.” She could hear the anger in her tone, anger because maybe it wasn’t her fault after all. She was allowed to be successful, too, wasn’t she?
Ashley was on the same track. “Now wait. You’re allowed to be his equal. It wasn’t your success that put distance between you.” Her eyes softened. “It was something you said a minute ago.” She paused. “You stopped needing him.”
Brooke felt the truth drop like a rock to the basement of her heart. “I did, didn’t I?”
“Yes. Sometimes it looked like you were single, and Peter was along for the ride. Lately, I can’t remember seeing you ask for his advice or look at him the way a man needs to be looked at.”
Brooke let loose a sad laugh and studied her younger sister. “How’d you get so smart?”
“Mom.” Ashley smiled. She traced a series of invisible hearts on the hotel bedspread. “The two of us talk more these days. She and Dad believe love is about honoring the other person, making them feel special, needed.” Ashley slid to the edge of the bed and let her feet hang over. “So maybe that’s what’s wrong with you and Peter.”
Brooke thought about the past year, how she’d reacted when Peter wanted to phone a specialist, and later, when he’d made an appointment with the doctor without checking with her. She’d taken it as an affr
ont to her medical training. Instead, maybe Peter was merely being the leader of their family, taking the man’s role of looking out for Maddie the best way he knew how.
Then, after Hayley’s accident . . .
“Peter must’ve felt worthless after Hayley got hurt.”
“I’m sure.”
“And I didn’t help much.” Brooke squinted across the room. “I’ve always tried to be smarter than everyone else.” She was calm, the reality sinking in. “I thought I could earn Dad’s love if I was like him.”
Ashley smiled. “We all thought that, but you know . . . we were all wrong.” She looped her arm through Brooke’s. “Dad loved all of us, whether we were coming home from Paris pregnant or earning a medical degree.”
“You’re right.”
“Maybe you tried to earn Peter’s love the same way.” Ashley blew at a wisp of hair and cast Brooke a sideways glance.
“The whole time proving I was as capable of medicine as he was.”
“Right.”
Brooke felt nauseous, thinking of the times when she’d worked to make a medical point or hold her ground on a method of treatment. She’d all but lost their relationship in her struggle to be a good doctor. Air leaked from her lungs in a tired, defeated way. “All he wanted was for me to honor him, allow him to lead me.”
Their conversation played out, and the more Brooke talked about it the more certain she felt. However badly torn apart her marriage was, she had played a part in its destruction. She would have to find a way to tell Peter her thoughts, but not until she was back home.
Talk turned again to Ashley and Landon. “So . . . you and Landon for a whole week, huh?”
“Yep.” Ashley was on her feet, slowly making her way toward the window. She showed no interest in talking about details. “We both need to be back at work on the third.”
“Well, little sister—” Brooke gave a light laugh—“I want to tell you to stop fighting yourself and love the man, go ahead and make plans for the future. But I know that’s not what you want, so . . .”
“You’re wrong, Brooke.” Ashley looked over her shoulder. “I want it more than I want life. But I won’t do that to him.” She turned back to the window. “There’s a difference.”
“Okay.” Brooke’s tone softened. “But you’re not beginning something with Landon; you’re ending it.” She stood and joined Ashley near the window. The view outside was wetter than before, most of the snow having melted. “All I’m saying is be careful.”
“I won’t be alone with him, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“It’s not.” Brooke held her breath for a moment and then exhaled hard. “You’ve been that route. No one needs to lecture you on making smart choices physically.” She turned to Ashley. “I’m talking about being smart emotionally.”
“Too late for that.” Ashley let her head fall softly against the window. “Leaving him will kill me, Brooke. I already know that.”
“Okay, but I’m thinking about him. Be careful, Ashley. Don’t break his heart.”
Ashley said nothing, but after a while Brooke heard her make a few sniffing sounds.
“Hey, it’s okay, Ash. You’ll be okay.” Brooke hugged her from the side and they stayed that way for a while.
Then Brooke resumed her packing, thinking about their earlier conversation and the truth it held. Indeed, she had stopped needing Peter, stopped admiring him for the work he did each day, stopped acknowledging his accomplishments. Stopped recognizing the place he had as leader in their family.
In that light, small wonder that he’d grown distant from her and the girls.
Ashley was still at the window, lost in her own thoughts, so Brooke moved about the room with as little noise as possible. She placed a final few belongings in the suitcase and zipped it. Already she had outfits laid out for the trip tomorrow. One last check of the closet and she was ready to turn in for the night.
She was headed for the bathroom when she stopped and looked at her sister, still motionless across the room, staring out at the city. “You okay, Ash?”
“Yeah.”
Brooke stared at Ashley’s back for a moment longer and anchored her hands on her hips. Ashley wasn’t okay; neither of them was.
However and why ever Brooke had stopped needing Peter, she was sure of one thing. She needed him now, needed him to help her with Hayley, to believe that one day they’d all be whole again. And most of all, she needed him to hold her and care for her and make her feel like a girl in love again.
There was only one problem.
Peter thought it was too late.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The week was a blur of gold and silver moments, the type Ashley would remember as long as she lived. And that was a good thing, because this time after she said good-bye to Landon, memories would be all she had left. They’d have to last not just a month or a year.
But a lifetime.
They’d spent Christmas Day with her family, enjoying the reaction of the children as they opened their presents and taking part in a raucous game of Pictionary that evening. Landon gave her a book of famous Americana paintings, and she gave him a sweater from Saks.
After dinner, they’d been clearing dishes when they bumped into each other in the kitchen doorway. Landon had grinned and pointed above Ashley’s head. A sprig of mistletoe hung there. Ashley felt her cheeks grow hot. Her family had rarely seen signs of her relationship with Landon, and now . . . with permanent good-byes just around the corner, she hesitated about the wisdom of kissing him.
But only for a moment.
“It’s okay, Ash.” Something sad played in Landon’s eyes. “I know we’re not alone, but no one’s looking.”
“Landon, it’s not that. Just that—”
“Shhh.” He held a finger to her lips and leaned in.
Then with tender lips he kissed her, and the sensation left her breathless. The closeness of him, the way he’d lingered near her face, his breath against her cheek. All of it.
Ashley had swallowed hard as she moved back to the living room. When he sat next to her, she spoke close to his ear, so only he could hear what she was saying. “That kind of kiss makes me glad we’re not alone.”
He only smiled at her and said, “Me, too.”
On Friday they hit Chelsea Piers, Manhattan’s famous amusement park. Ashley rode the roller coaster with Landon and Cole six times before calling it quits. That evening the group caught a movie, and the next morning the others flew back to Bloomington.
The next three days passed in a blur of walks through Central Park, happy conversations about Cole and the people at Sunset Hills, and dinners at a handful of well-known cafes. They window-shopped on Fifth Avenue, skated under the lights in the park, and drank coffee in her hotel restaurant.
Before Ashley had time to calculate how quickly time was passing, it was Wednesday, New Year’s Eve. Until then, they’d avoided Landon’s apartment, and the plan had stayed the same since he’d talked to her at Luke and Reagan’s wedding. New Year’s Eve would be spent at Times Square, watching the sparkly ball drop slowly into the crowd at the stroke of midnight. Outside, where temptations would be minimal.
But without saying anything to Landon, Ashley could feel her resolve falling away a little more each hour. When it started raining sleet late Wednesday, they both knew it was time to talk about the backup plan. Ashley had been dying to go to his apartment, to be where he lived and slept and ate his meals, to relax on his sofa and feel—for even a day—that she still had a chance at forever with him.
With the change in weather, the decision was made. They would order in pizza, watch the ball drop on his TV, and spend their last night together without the distraction of crowds or parties or any other thing.
They ate dinner at his small kitchen table, and Ashley told him about Cole’s Halloween costume, the way he’d made such a stir at Sunset Hills.
“So there’s Helen, shouting that Cole’s a spaceman, and what does I
rvel say?”
“What nice hair he has?” He bit into a piece of cheese pizza and grinned.
“No.” Ashley laughed. “That’s what she told me.”
“Okay, then . . .” Landon swallowed the bite and chuckled again. “What?”
“She says she thinks Helen’s gentleman caller is shrinking. You know, because Cole’s only four feet tall.”
Landon almost lost his food. “No.”
“Yes.” Ashley set her piece of pizza back on the plate. She hadn’t laughed this hard since before Hayley’s accident. “And Helen’s having a fit, shouting at people, flapping her arms like a bird.”
“She wants to visit the moon with Cole, right?”
“No.” The laughter came harder now. She could still picture the look on Helen’s face as the situation that morning went from bad to worse. “She says everyone needs a space helmet. If Cole gets one, everyone gets one.”
“Of course.” Landon wiped a napkin over his lips. “And what about Bert?”
“That’s the best part.” Ashley waited, catching her breath. “Bert shuffles in, sees Cole in his firefighter costume, and wants to know where the fire is.”
“I bet that was a hit.”
“Definitely. Next thing Helen’s pointing at the kitchen, convinced the sink’s on fire.”
“Poor Cole . . . probably wanted to run back to the car.” Landon ran the backs of his hands beneath his eyes, struggling to grab a mouthful of air between bouts of laughter.
“Not at all.” Ashley exhaled hard and again waited until she had more control. “He used his imaginary hose and put out the fire.”
“Of course.” Landon pretended to have a hose in his hand while he put out invisible flames in his own kitchen. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
They laughed a while longer, and one story blended into another. He told her about a few friends he’d met at work—Barry and John-John—both men in their early thirties, married with two children apiece.
“They find something funny at every call.” Landon was settling down, leaning back as his voice returned to normal. “I guess a little humor on the job helps.”
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