Would you?
“Fuck you, Jedidiah!” I scream. “You didn’t live. You don’t get to ask. You don’t have to sit here and feel and hurt. You can watch down over all of us and make your judgments just like you did in all of these!” I fling in his letter to me and just sob.
When arms wrap around me, I jerk back in fright, afraid Nick might have forgotten something.
It’s not Nick; it’s Rainey. And she just pulls me close without a word.
I’m not sure how long we sit there, but the only thing I whisper is “Don’t let him come back here.”
In that moment, I’m not entirely certain if I mean Nick or my brother.
Maris
October
“I’ve only known my sister to run away from her emotions twice. And that’s because the pain inside her heart was too enormous for her to handle it in the moment. If she does it a third time, I’m afraid she won’t come back.” - From the journals of Jedidiah Smith.
It’s been just over a month where I’ve had to train my mind that Nicholas Cain doesn’t exist. I worried before about not introducing him to David, but now I wonder if it was simply a mother’s intuition. Every single day I’ve heard from either Kara, Rainey, or Meadow—sometimes all three.
“Just want to see your beautiful face. It’s good for the baby to get to see her godmother so soon since you’ll likely be catching her,” Kara tried to joke last night.
Or when I spoke with Meadow: “Maybe once things are settled with the state, you can come visit? Maybe you’d want to look into expansion down here.”
Rainey’s not quite as subtle. “Get your ass on the phone before I drive over.” I can’t blame her though. I was a disaster the night I cleaned out my house of all the memorabilia the last day I spoke to Nick.
Out with the old, in with my son, I tell myself firmly. All I’m doing is creating more room in my heart for David. Each time I go to Sarah and Hung’s to play with him and the kids is the only time I feel like smiling. I’ve been buried under old shop blankets, helped each child paint miniature pumpkins, and even set up a new spreadsheet for Sarah to assist her with tracking her expenses in Excel.
So, it’s with a sick anticipation I received a call from Leigh Scott, the state’s social worker for our area. Her voice was neutral, telling me nothing. “I hope we can meet at your home next week, Ms. Smith. Unfortunately, I can’t make it before then.”
“Absolutely. I look forward to it.” But the minute I hung up, I raced up the stairs to David’s room. Should I paint it? Get new bed clothes? Should I ask him what he’d like in his room? Before it was just a possibility, but this? I allow myself a moment to look inside that place I’ve fortified and sheltered—the part of me that is permanently reserved to love Nick. A shaft of pain lances through me as my heart bleeds again. This moment is what I gave up love for—the chance to be a mother to the little boy that captured my heart.
I quickly slam the fortress door shut again and nod as I survey the room with the basic twin bed and plaid comforter, nightstand, lamp, classic oak bookshelf filled with children’s books of all ages in the event David wants to have his former foster siblings over, and an empty dresser.
“It was all for this,” I say aloud.
Closing the door, I head back downstairs.
A week later, I feel too much.
Too much confusion.
Too much shock.
Too much devastation.
But I try to rein in my emotions. I place my coffee mug to the side. “I’m sorry, Ms. Scott. I went through this program with the intent on fostering and then adopting a specific child. While Kassidy is an adorable little girl, my intent has always been to adopt David from Sarah and Hung Li.”
“Yes, well. I evaluated David and found him well adjusted in his current home.”
My stomach curdles. “And you don’t feel a permanent home would be better for him? With someone who loves him?”
“It’s my job to evaluate the overall health and well-being of the child. Right now, the best thing for David is to remain with the Li family with the boys and girls he considers his ‘siblings.’ I can’t rip a child from their family when there are so many others who need our help.”
She lays her hands on top of the stack of files in her lap—as if Kassidy isn’t to my liking, here’s another option? The problem is, none of them will be. They are not the little boy I’ve been convinced is mine.
No one prepared me this could happen. My hands begin shaking as I close the folder and sit back trying to gather my thoughts. All these months, all the preparation, everyone knew I was doing this for that little boy. But honesty forces me to admit, Did Mrs. G.? Did the state? Would they have prepared me? Helped me to shelter my heart a little better?
Kind of like I should have done with Nick?
Suddenly the air has been sucked out from the room. All along I had the chance for it all, but I threw it away because I wore blinders to reality. Nick’s gone, and I can’t imagine being a good mother to any of these children. Not right now. Not until I get my head on straight.
“I need time to reset my expectations.” I think my words are reasonable, but judging from the look on Ms. Scott’s face, I apparently have let down someone else.
Nick. A child. The state. Why don’t I add Jed to the list as well since I’m sure he’s just as disappointed in me.
“Also, my best friend is giving birth soon in Florida. I’m expected to be in the labor room. I fly out soon, but I wanted to meet with you first. I’m surprised this part is moving so fast since the rest took such a long time,” I lie convincingly.
Ms. Scott’s face clears up. “Oh, dear. I didn’t realize that. How generous of you to do that considering your own issues.”
I’m unable to hold back the wince. “It’s love, not generosity.”
“Of course. That makes me all the more excited to have you in our program, Ms. Smith. A child will be lucky to have you for their mother with your big heart. Now I understand what you mean about resetting your expectations.”
I hand her back the file, which along with the others, she slips back into her bag. My heart aches for those children. Not now. Forgive me.
After Ms. Scott leaves, I lean my head against the door. I know what I need to do.
I need to leave.
Nicholas
November
“No!” I yell at Reece and Oliver, who are rolling around the mat like they’re about to embrace instead of do some physical damage to one another. “This isn’t huggy-kissy time, boys. Unless we’re all just wasting our time for fucking nothing?”
Reece shoves Oliver off him, probably the most impressive move he’s shown since the two of them entered the octagon. But it’s Oliver who opens his mouth. “Why don’t you get whatever it is off your chest and stop being a little bitch, Nick.”
“What? I’m a little bitch because I’ve invested time and money in Reece only to get him back here to Albuquerque for subpar sessions?”
“No, you’ve been a dick since we got back because you won’t face the fact you never should have left.”
Oliver obviously has a death wish. “London, out of the ring,” I snarl. I’m already stripping off my tee over my head.
His grappling may still suck despite the amount of time we’ve been working on it, but his ears work just fine. Reece slides out just as I slip in. I point a finger at Oliver. “You’re going to be useless by the time I’m through with you.”
“I’m quivering over here, Nick. After all, how hard can it be to take down a man who leaves the woman—”
My fist connecting with his mouth isn’t fair, but at least it shuts him up. He swipes the back of his gloved hand against his cut lip. “You’re a serious dick.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
“Hopefully by Maris,” Oliver taunts, following up his words with a quick jab.
For the next several minutes, I try to stay out of range while Oliver uses his eagle-length arms to kn
ock some sense in to me. Literally. He’s the best at quick effective jabs to rattle the guy he’s fighting against. But it’s worth a few knocks to take him to his knees when I get the chance to put all my power behind a round kick.
Oliver groans, stumbling back, before dropping to a knee. I can’t prevent the smug smile. “Those direct shots to the kidney hurt like a—”
I don’t get to finish my sentence as Oliver sweeps my legs out from beneath me. Then he’s on top of me. I bring my arms up to protect my face as I stupidly got into the cage without any head gear. My ribs take a few nasty shots before I wrap my legs around his and roll him over.
I hammer him with an overhand looping punch before using my elbows to get some of my own back. I don’t do as much damage to him as I can. Because maybe, just maybe, I can let out some of this pain rolling around inside me.
Tatum leaps into the Octagon. “I’m calling it.”
I snarl at him.
“You two have an audience, Nick. It’s done. Work it out some other way.”
My head snaps up, and all around me are little faces of the kids I mentor—kids who I’ve avoided ever since I returned because they remind me of what Maris wanted more than me.
A family.
God, what the hell am I doing?
I roll off Oliver. The two of us are both breathing heavily. Tatum waits a moment to make certain we’re not going to attack each other again before he bounds out of the octagon. “Okay, kids. It’s time for jump rope.”
There’s a loud cheer. Lots of sneakers take off after Tatum. “Remind me to give him a bonus,” I mutter.
“Why?”
“Because he’s right. I never should have stepped into the ring.” I roll into a sitting position and groan. I have ten years on Oliver, and right now I feel every single one. The worst of them on my heart.
I’m about to open my mouth to explain what went down between me and Maris when Oliver says, “I always wanted to be you.”
“For fuck’s sake, why?”
“I thought, here’s a guy who has it all: money, fame, women. The belt. But it wasn’t until we were in Alaska I realized you’d give it all away if you could have her.”
He’s right, so why deny it? I nod.
“Then what happened?” Oliver draws his knees up to rock up. He grunts. “You’re such an ass. Was the kidney shot necessary?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you pissed the shit out of me.”
Oliver accepts that before turning back to discuss Maris. “Why did you let her go?” he asks again.
My laugh could cut the tape off our hands with a single slice. “Try the other way around. I wanted—want—her here so bad, my soul aches.”
“And she wanted…”
“She chose someone else.”
“Who?” I’ve obviously startled Oliver.
Quickly I recount the process Maris has been going through to foster, then adopt a child. God, maybe she has by now and I don’t know it. My email has remained eerily quiet, and I’ve checked it daily hoping to hear any news about her. But it remains stubbornly silent.
Oliver absorbs my words a moment before leaning over and whacking me upside the head. “Do you want to go another round? If we lose Tatum and the kids, I’ve got more than enough juice in the tank,” I warn him.
“It amazes me that a man who retained as many brains as you—despite the head shots over the years—is so dense.”
“Wait. What?” I expected Oliver’s support, not his condemnation.
He claps a hand on my arm—whether in support or to restrain me, I’m not certain. “It’s pretty obvious to me just from what you’ve said she wanted you to stay. But did you ask to? Did you give her a reason to ask you? Or did you just assume with the same arrogance you’ve done everything else in your life that she’d give up everything and follow you?”
I don’t say anything, which is answer enough. “I have so many bad memories of Alaska, Ollie,” I confess.
“Is she woman enough to help you make new ones?”
I snort “If you doubt that, you don’t know her. You should have seen the two of us at…” The grin pulling at my bruised face begins to fade as the implications of leaving Maris finally set in. “What did I do?”
“I don’t know. What did you do, Nick?”
I don’t bother answering. I’m too busy reliving all the moments with Maris while I was in Juneau none of which sparked my fury over my childhood.
Coffee at Warm Up.
Talking at Jed’s grave.
The barbecue in the Meyerses’ backyard
All the time at her house.
Spending time at Eagle Park.
Eating king crab like it was going to disappear from the planet.
No matter where we were, she never hid from me the very things that would make her soul complete—love and a family. In fact, didn’t I resent she wasn’t looking to include me in her future? And then I broke both of us by leaving.
“I’m such a jackass.”
“At least we’re all in agreement. The question is how do you fix this?”
“I don’t know if I can.” My voice is hollow.
“Bullshit. You’re the Champ.” He smacks his hand down hard on the mat beneath us.
“I would give up everything I have, everything I am, to be with her. If you don’t think that, you’re still recovering from that elbow to the chin.”
“Then let’s get changed and figure it out.” Oliver’s eyes are gleaming like he’s just spotted the best recruit of his life.
I tilt my head slightly. “What are you thinking?”
Hours later, and after begging Charmaine to get us sandwiches, it’s all done but the paperwork.
Now, I just have to get to Maris.
Figuring I’ll call the Meyerses to soften things up, I try Brad first. He immediately picks up. “What’s going on?”
My fingers are clicking as I check out flights. I sneer at the limited choices because of the winter season setting in. “I’m flying to Juneau early next week. Are you going to be there?”
“No, sorry, buddy. The kids are on a break. We’re escaping to Florida to go out on the boat.”
“Oh. Damn.” There goes my idea of having a buffer.
“Listen, I’m not sure why you’re coming…” Brad starts.
I pull the device away from my ear. “What the hell do you mean? I’m flying to see Maris.”
“Are you insane?” Brad’s voice is so pleasant, I have to process his words a few times. “You need to stay as far away from her as possible. What you did to her, leaving without a word, was brutal.”
“How is she?” My voice aches with regret.
“Hello, numnutz. Are you even listening? She—uh, nothing, honey. No, just telling Nick about our trip to Florida and how we expect brutal weather.”
While I mentally applaud Brad’s save, I know there’s not a chance of him giving me any information. “I’ll find out when I get there, then.”
“Listen.” His voice lowers. “Don’t come here. Try Jennings.” Brad then hangs up the call.
Immediately, I dial Jennings. He picks up on the second ring. “I will not tell you how Maris is. Other than a phone call to tell me she made it safely, I have no clue anyway.” He immediately hangs up on me.
“Thanks for noth—” My body locks. Immediately, I turn back to my computer and begin searching for direct flights to Jacksonville, Florida.
I scan the flights and find one that I can make after I sign the papers that make Oliver a partial owner in Razor in two days. I want that done before I go to Maris with my hat in hand. She needs to know how serious I am about being a part of her life—part of her everyday life.
In Alaska.
Maris
“Jennings?”
“Hey, Maris. What’s going on?”
“I just wanted you to know I’m here.”
“Here? At the house? The gate guards didn’t call anyone in.�
�� I hear the disapproval in his voice.
“No, in Florida. My plane just touched down.”
“That’s great! Come over for dinner. You know Kara is going to love—”
“No, Jennings. I don’t want her to know I’m here yet.”
There’s a silence between us filled with a million and one questions. Of course, being as smart as he is, he asks the only one guaranteed to start up the tears I’d just managed to get under control. “Is Nick with you?”
My voice is flat. “No.”
“I see.” And I’m sure he does. Until this moment I never acknowledged Nick’s been back in Albuquerque picking up the reins of his life. I hid all of my pain over that loss until I was dealt the second blow of the loss of my dream of adopting David.
The idea of being in Juneau is more agonizing now than it was in those wretched months in between Jed’s death and the funeral. I couldn’t bear to be there another moment more than I had to. It was an unbearable wait because I wanted to put as much distance between me and my home as quickly as possible so I could recover from losing hope again. I’m not sure there are any words that can cut through the pain. I just need time to process everything, and I couldn’t do it with the memories suffocating me in Juneau.
“I need time,” I manage.
“Where are you going to be?” Jennings demands. Before I can figure out a reasonable argument to not tell him, he hits me with the single indisputable reason why he has to know. “You’re here weeks ahead of schedule, Maris, but what happens if something goes wrong? God, what if Kara goes into labor early? If I can’t reach you by cell, I need to be able to contact you.”
With a sigh, I tell him, “The Bath and Lodge Club,” naming the beachside resort I’ve stayed in for years when I visited Jed, Dean, Kara, and Kevin.
“Thank you. And Maris?”
“Yeah?”
“Just know you’re loved for being you.” Jennings says something else I don’t quite get with the shuffle of bags and general noise of the other passengers. And then I’m left holding an empty line.
Return by Sea (Glacier Adventure Series Book 3) Page 25
