“Mother,” Annie whispered and Becca shot her a frown. And Kristen knew Becca didn’t need any help at all. It was just Becca’s way of making her feel like family.
She was digging cucumbers out of the vegetable drawer in the refrigerator when Ruth appeared in the doorway, the baby on her shoulder. Her eyes assessed Kristen carefully, then she smiled. “I hear you had a bit of excitement today.”
Kristen heard the words, but had eyes only for the infant in Ruth’s arms. Not for one moment had she forgotten that she and Abe still had issues to discuss. She’d anticipated having a reaction to the sight of Ruth’s baby, but she was unprepared for the wave of emotion that nearly cut her at the knees, a rushing combination of yearning and fear. Yearning that she, too, could hold a child in her arms, Abe’s child. And fear that her inability to do so would come between them and she’d lose her place in this incredible family.
“Kristen?” Ruth approached, tilting Kristen’s chin up with her free hand. “Say something.”
Kristen made her eyes blink, her lungs breathe and her mouth move. “I’m fine. It’s just the day catching up to me.” She dropped the vegetables on the table. “But I think staying busy is the best thing. The christening was lovely, Ruth. I’m just sorry the party was ruined.”
Ruth looked unconvinced. “If you need anything, you will let me know.”
“I will. I promise.” Kristen settled at the kitchen table and started ripping lettuce, a remarkably cathartic activity all in all. “So, Rachel, more algebra?”
Rachel grimaced. “Makeup work from all the days I missed. You’d think they’d cut me some slack, under the circumstances. But nooo. It’s all due on Monday.”
Kristen concentrated on the lettuce. “Welcome to the real world, honey.” Where life rarely cuts you any slack. But couldn’t it, please? Just this once?
Saturday, February 28, 10:45 P.M.
The house was quiet, relatively speaking. Sean and Ruth had gone home, taking all five children which eliminated 80 percent of the noise right there. Aidan had gone off to his old bedroom where Becca insisted he sleep for the night. Annie had also gone home, but not before quietly telling Kristen not to worry about her living room. She had some wallpaper that would be just perfect, and she’d fix it all up, better than new.
Now she and Abe sat with Becca and Kyle, the television showing pets doing amazing tricks. Abe’s arm was around her, holding her tight when she remembered. Pets. Damn. “I need to go to my house,” she said, dreading the thought. “I have to feed the cats.”
Abe just tightened his hold. “Mia fed them. They’re fine.”
So Kristen indulged herself, putting off the nagging knowledge that there was still one major unresolved issue for just a little while longer. Then the program ended and Kyle stood with a groan.
“I’m sorry, but I have to go to bed. I’m getting too old for all this excitement. Becca?”
Becca rose, bent to kiss Abe’s cheek, then Kristen’s. “Where will you go tonight?”
“My apartment,” Abe said firmly. Kristen was in no mood to disagree and a few minutes later they were sitting in the cab of his SUV, staring at his parents’ house. Abe hadn’t started the engine and the quiet was almost deafening. Kristen knew he’d been wrestling with the unresolved issues as well. It would appear the time of reckoning had arrived.
“We need to talk, Kristen,” he said quietly, “but not here.” In silence he drove to the apartment she’d seen only once, the morning after she’d been attacked in her room. Abe’s place was empty and sterile and Kristen found she dreaded it almost as much as returning to her own house. But perhaps it was the conversation she dreaded more than the location.
He took her coat and turned on some lights. Flipped a switch and the gas fireplace ignited with a whoosh. He stood with his back to her for a long moment while she waited.
“Last night I told you I loved you,” he said abruptly and she was acutely conscious that he hadn’t said so since. “You said you loved me.” He turned and focused those piercing blue eyes on her face. “Did you mean it?”
Kristen swallowed. “Yes.”
His eyes flashed. “What did you think I would say, Kristen? That my love was conditional? I love you, but only if you bear my children? That if you can’t, the deal is off?”
Kristen’s eyes stung at his brusque tone. “I told you I’d disappoint you.”
He looked up at the ceiling, blew out a sigh. “I’m disappointed,” he admitted, then brought his gaze back down to hers. “But not with you.” He crossed the distance between them and put his arms around her. “Never with you. How can I make you believe that?”
His arms were around her again and suddenly it was all too much. The dam broke and the tears rushed and she grabbed handfuls of his shirt and held on. And cried and cried. He scooped her up and settled her on his lap on the sofa and held her until the wave passed and the tears dwindled to a trickle. He lifted her chin and kissed her then, long and deep and… permanent. That’s what it was. Permanence. Possession. His stake.
Her breath shuddered out in relief. “I’m sorry, Abe. I wish I could change it, but I can’t.”
He delved into her eyes, his gaze intense. “We are who we are because of what we’ve been through, Kristen, and we can’t go back and change things, no matter how hard we wish. We are where we are because of what we’ve been through. Somehow, our lives came together. We’re together. And right here, right now, I wouldn’t change a thing.”
His face became blurry and she blinked, sending tears down her cheeks. “And later? When you want a child of your own?”
“Any child we have will be a child of our own. We can adopt. I wanted to say that this morning, but I didn’t think you wanted to hear it then.”
“There are long waiting periods,” she murmured, still unwilling to let herself entirely believe what seemed too perfect to be true. “It’s not easy to adopt a baby.”
“Who said anything about a baby?” he responded gently. “There are children everywhere that need homes, families to love them. We can be a family, Kristen. You and me. Even if we never biologically reproduce, I love you. Even if we never have any children, I love you.” He kissed her mouth so tenderly she thought her heart would break. “Marry me.”
Marriage. To a man with a heart like Abe’s. It was more than she’d ever dared to hope for. “Are you sure, Abe?” Please be sure. Please.
“I’m very sure.” He said it quietly, so that it rumbled from deep within his chest.
“I love you,” she whispered, tracing his lips with her finger, watching his eyes heat. “I never believed I’d ever find anyone like you. I just want you to be happy.”
His eyes burned, blue as flames, and she wondered how she ever could have thought them cold. “Answer the question, Counselor.”
She smiled up into his face. “Yes.”
His shoulders sagged and she realized he hadn’t been entirely sure she’d say yes. Abruptly he rose, swinging her to her feet. Without saying a word he switched on the big-screen TV, changing stations while she watched, bewildered. Finally he came to the end of the stations, to the ones that only played music to solid background screens. He stopped changing channels and a smooth voice filled the room. Oldies. Turning, he held out his hand. “Dance with me.”
She walked into his arms and they held one another, swaying to the music. She let herself drift in the sheer nearness of him until her back hit the wall. Abe’s body pressed against her, hot and hard and very ready.
“Are you hungry?” he asked and she looked up and drew a quick breath. He was, but not for food. It was evident. In so many ways.
Her lips curved as she remembered the first time they’d made love and he’d told her how it would be. First dinner, then a dance, then… Even if she were hungry, she’d lie. “No.”
“Good.” He kissed her until the room spun. “I didn’t want to have to cook for you first.”
Her eyes danced up at him as he lifted his head.
“But I do have a taste for dessert.”
His smile sent her pulse skyrocketing. “So do I, Counselor. So do I.”
Epilogue
Saturday, July 17, 1:30 P.M.
Abe tightened the final screw in the easel the box claimed would take only ten minutes to assemble, but in reality had required two hours. That the easel arrived with a video that described assembly and operation instructions should have been his first clue that this would be harder than it looked. But it didn’t matter. It was a present for Kristen.
The whole room was a present for Kristen.
It was the spare bedroom in the house they’d closed on just the week before. He’d turned it into an art studio, complete with all the paints she could ever want. The clerk at the art store nearly kissed him, Abe thought wryly, with good cause. Paints were damn expensive. But again, it didn’t matter. It was a present for Kristen and they could afford it now that they no longer had to worry about the mortgage on her old house.
Luckily Kristen’s old house had sold quickly, Annie helping with more than a few required repairs. Like rewall-papering the living room and hastily building a new kitchen. Still, time and expense aside, both Kristen and her old neighbors were happy the house now held a new couple who found the house’s recent history compelling. The husband was a reporter, the wife a writer. Abe shuddered. Let them have the house and good riddance.
Owen’s house had been sold as well, again to people who were welcome to it. He’d left it to Kristen with the stipulation she keep a portion of the proceeds from its sale and donate the rest to the community center where Leah and Timothy had socialized. She’d donated the portion to the community center, then used the rest to set up a fund for Kaplan’s child and Vincent’s ongoing physical therapy. Vincent had proved tougher than they’d thought, and though he’d never work in a diner again, with therapy he could have a somewhat normal life.
Abe stood back, looking at his handiwork. Double-masted with a hand crank to raise and lower her canvases, the easel could hold a canvas up to eight feet tall. Abe looked around at the canvases he’d pulled from the storage shed in Kristen’s old backyard. It had been what she’d hidden out there, locked with the enormous padlock. The canvases she’d completed in Italy and during her early years as an art major, portraits and landscapes so stunning they made his heart clench. Of course, he was the least little bit biased.
His wife was gifted. On so many levels. Her most recent work in progress sat on a makeshift easel in the corner of the room. She’d captured the beauty of Florence so effortlessly. It was the view from the hotel room where they’d honeymooned, making the piece that much more special.
The house itself wasn’t much to look at. Yet. Abe had no doubt that between them, Kristen and Annie would change that quickly. But at least she’d get along with their neighbors this time around. Their new house was located just a half a block away from his parents. Sean and Ruth lived just a few blocks farther. Life was good.
“Abe?” The front door slammed downstairs.
“I’m up here, honey. Spare bedroom.” Anxiously he watched as she climbed the stairs, anticipating her reaction to the new studio. But his anticipation quickly became a frown as she reached the landing. She was pale and trembling, despite the heat of the July day. “What’s wrong?”
She just looked at him, her expression distant and unreadable. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the spare bedroom, gently forcing her into a soft chair. He crouched down to stare at her pale face. “I said, what’s wrong?”
Her eyes traveled around the room and her breath caught. “Oh, Abe…Thank you.”
But the thank-you was said in a voice so paper-thin, it didn’t sound like hers. “Kristen, you’re scaring me. What is wrong?”
Her russet brows knit as she seemed to concentrate. “I’ve just come from the doctor.”
His heart stopped. Oh, God. His brain spun, his mind landing on the possibility he’d kept buried in the back of his mind. Her cancer had returned. “It’s back?”
She frowned at him. “What’s back?”
“Cervical cancer.”
Her face blanched, her shoulders sagging. “No, oh, no, Abe. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you like that. No, I’m fine, really.” As his pulse slowed to normal, she looked around the room again, her mouth curving into a little smile. “You’ve been busy this morning. Too bad you’re going to have to move it all back down to the basement.”
Abe shook his head. “No way. I’ve been working on this all—” He stopped himself, captured by the look in her eyes. It was a gleam he’d never seen before. Hope and… something else. His heart stuttered in his chest and he gently pushed the curls from her face, not wanting to hope himself. “Which doctor did you go see?”
Her eyes held his. “I went to the doctor to get tested for anemia. My mother used to have it, and I’ve been so tired since I got back from my last trip to Kansas.”
Abe didn’t want to think about that trip, about the showdown with her father who still refused to give her the love she deserved. Abe had wanted to break the man’s face, but in the end Kristen had just said good-bye. She’d continue going back to see her mother for as long as her mother lived, but she’d given up on her father as a lost cause. Her father’s loss. He’d end up alone. Kristen, on the other hand, had more relatives than she could count, having been absorbed into the Reagan family.
“And he said?”
“She said my iron was fine.” An expression of wonder crossed her face. “Then she said I was pregnant.”
Pregnant. The word just exploded inside his head. His heart. Elated, Abe wanted to shout, laugh, turn cartwheels, but she seemed so still. So he waited.
“I told her it was impossible, that I’d had most of my cervix removed. But she said they’d done something called a cone biopsy, and though it removed a lot, it didn’t interfere with conception.” She said the words as if by rote, as if she still didn’t believe them. “She said the doctor should have explained all this to me ten years ago.”
“Did he?”
“Maybe. I was so devastated by the whole birth, adoption, and surgery experience that I probably didn’t listen. I just assumed… Then later, I just didn’t want to think about it.”
Abe couldn’t help it. A grin spread across his face and with a whoop he grabbed her into his arms and spun her around as if she was little Jeannette’s age. She laughed breathlessly as she threw her arms around his neck and clung.
He tilted her head back so he could look into her eyes. Green and glinting with tears. “I love you, you know.”
She blinked, sending the tears down her face. “I know. I love you, too. Oh, Abe, I just can’t believe it’s true.”
“When?”
“January.”
He quickly did the math. “Then you’re three months already?”
Her face looked awed again. “I heard the heartbeat, Abe.” She spread a tentative hand across her belly. “We’re having a baby.”
He covered her hand with his, desperately wishing he’d been there at her side. “Next time I’m going with you so I can hear it, too. And every time after that.”
She grinned unexpectedly. “You’ll have to pay Mia back for covering for you during all those doctors’ appointments.”
“I’ll let her pick lunch.” Abe leaned his forehead against hers, so happy he thought he would burst from it. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Can we tell everybody?”
Kristen pulled away and started for the door. “If Ruth hasn’t already.”
Abe grinned. “She was the doctor?”
Kristen grinned back. “What can I say? I get a family rate.”
About the Author
KAREN ROSE fell in love with books from the moment she learned to read, with Jo from Little Women and Nancy Drew becoming close childhood friends. She started writing stories of her own when the characters started talking in her head and just wouldn’t be silenced. Wh
en she’s not writing stories for readers, Karen writes stories for computers— programming keeps the other side of her brain out of trouble. She lives in sunny Florida with her fantastic husband, an avid fisherman, and two wonderful daughters who also love to read—and write! Karen would love to receive your e-mail at
[email protected], and be sure to check out her Web site at www.karenrosebooks.com.
More Karen Rose!
A sneak peek at
NOTHING TO FEAR
Available in Summer 2005.
Chapter One
Wights Landing, Isle of Wight Bay, Maryland Wednesday, July 28, 2 A.M.
Ow. That hurt. It was his first blurry thought as fingers gripped his shoulder and shook. Hard. That really hurt. Stop it.
The shaking continued, but he wouldn’t open his eyes. It couldn’t be morning yet. He drew in a breath, smelled her perfume. It was her all right. It wasn’t fair. She’d promised him the whole week off. No chores. No lessons. No flashcards. No stupid word games or speech therapy. Just fun in the sun. Sand castles. Riding the waves. All the ice cream he could eat. Video games until two in the morning. Sleeping in as long as he wanted, until lunch if he wanted. Yet here she was, shaking him awake.
He’d known she’d break her promise. It had just been a matter of time. They all did, sooner or later. It didn’t matter anyway. He’d just wait her out, just like he’d waited out the others. Sooner or later, one way or another, they’d leave. Cheryl had stuck around longer than most. He had to give her credit for that.
He swatted her hand and tried to roll over, but she grabbed him and yanked him up by his T-shirt. Her hand clamped over his mouth just as his eyes flew open. Just as he took in her face, white as a ghost in the moonlight, and her dark eyes, wide and scared. Not just scared. Cheryl was terrified and in that moment, so was he.
He stopped struggling.
“Say nothing.”
She mouthed it. He nodded. She let go of his mouth and pulled him from the bed, shoving the processor into his hand. Normally he fought putting it on, put her off as long as he could. Now, he slipped it behind his ear without a word.