Nobody Said It’d be Easy

  “No.”

  “Move out,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Go back home or stay with your friends in the city. Just please, please don’t be near me anymore because the only thing I am sure about is I’m not strong enough for this.”

  Lia’s lip trembled and tears spilled from those beautiful dark eyes. He knew he was hurting her, knew he was being cruel, but it was essential to his survival to get it done.

  Sever the limb. Make a clean break.

  As if that were possible.

  He picked up Maddie’s bear, turned to Mike. “Can you take everybody home? Please?”

  “I won’t go,” Lia said.

  Gabe turned, looked at her one last time, and managed a small smile. “You will. It’s what I need and you’re not cruel. This is what you do, Lia. You give people what they need. Do this for me. If you ever cared about me—about us—please do this.”

  He turned and headed back to Maddie’s bedside, her bear clutched in his hand and the look of devastation on Lia’s face etched on his heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Gabe remained at the hospital, sleeping in Maddie’s room, hovering beside her when the nurses came in to rouse her for a walk around the room. The anesthesia should have worn off by the day after surgery, but Maddie was lethargic the next day, and the day after that. Gabe was ready to throttle some answers out of Dr. Kuo, but the woman just patted his shoulder and said every child heals at her own rate.

  On the third day after surgery, Dr. Kuo came into Maddie’s room where Gabe had been trying—unsuccessfully—to get Maddie to eat breakfast.

  “Hello there, Miss Ivers.”

  “Hi.”

  “I’ve come to look at your scars.”

  Every time she said that, every damn time, Gabe’s entire body winced. His precious child, his perfect baby—scarred.

  But alive, he reminded himself. He had to be thankful for that and he was. Still…he’d have sold his soul to have avoided this.

  Dr. Kuo pressed on Maddie’s belly, which was noticeably less distended. The laparoscopic incisions were covered with a simple gauze dressing now. “Okay, Maddie, this looks very good to me. I think we can spring you out of here today. How does that sound?”

  Like a lottery win, Gabe thought. His smile was real and huge when he turned to Maddie. “Home sounds great, doesn’t it, Ducky?”

  “Ducky?” Dr. Kuo repeated with a laugh. “Now I think I need to hear the story about why your dad calls you Ducky.”

  Maddie didn’t laugh. She didn’t smile. She didn’t even beg to tell the story about how all the girls got their nicknames, the way she’d always done every time the topic came up. She shoved the hair out of her eyes. It really needed to be washed. It hung in strings around her too-pale face. Lia would have—

  Abruptly, Gabe shoved the thought aside and answered the doctor’s question. “I call her that because of a dinosaur in a movie called The Land Before Time.”

  “It’s silly,” she said, listlessly.

  Gabe’s heart dropped. “Do you want me to stop calling you that?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t care.”

  “What about getting to go home today? Isn’t that happy news?” he tried again.

  Another shrug.

  “Maddie, sweetheart.” He sat on her bed and took her little face in his hands. “Dr. Kuo says I get to take you home and I’m almost as happy as I was when you were born and I got to take you home and keep you forever. Why aren’t you happy?”

  Her big brown eyes were flat and unhappy as she looked at him. “I wanted to see Mommy. But she’s not here.”

  “Mommy? Maddie, Mommy’s—Oh, Maddie. Did you think you were going to die?”

  “I wanted to! I wanted to go to heaven to see Mommy! Ow!” When she began to cry, she curled over her still-sore belly and all Gabe could do was rub her back.

  A nurse stepped in when he heard Maddie’s cry. Dr. Kuo asked him to page Dr. Vahle, stat. Ten minutes after that, a tall woman with wild hair stepped into Maddie’s room.

  “Hello. I’m Dr. Vahle, but you can call me Bobby.”

  Maddie frowned. “I don’t want you to look at my belly.”

  “That’s not why I’m here.”

  Maddie relaxed a little when she heard that. “Bobby’s a boy’s name.”

  “Yep. That’s why I like it. My name’s really Robin, but I like Bobby.”

  “It’s stupid.”

  Gabe’s eyes bulged. “Maddie. Manners?”

  “Well, it is.”

  “You think it’s stupid, and I like it. What do you think, Mr. Ivers?”

  “Uh, well, I guess it’s cool.”

  “Okay, we’ve got one vote for stupid, one cool, and one like. I might ask all the other kids to vote.”

  Confused, Maddie made a face. “Daddy asks us to vote when we have to make family ’cisions. A name isn’t a ’cision.”

  Smiling, Dr. Vahle said, “That’s true. A name is a name and you can’t really change it. But still, I think I’ll take a vote. I like to know what people think.”

  “About what?”

  “About everything. Like right now, I want to know what you think.”

  “I think Bobby’s a stupid name for a girl.”

  “Madison!” Gabe barked but Dr. Vahle held up a hand.

  “Mr. Ivers, why don’t you take a break, maybe go hunt down a treat for Miss Maddie here? Maybe an ice pop?”

  Gabe hesitated for a second and finally nodded. He knew what kind of doctor she was; psychology was printed on her ID badge. He just didn’t like the idea of leaving his six-year-old alone after she’d just revealed she’d hoped to die.

  Half an hour later, he came back with a treat and Maddie was chirping like a little bird about how she got her name. He stood in the door, stunned by the transformation.

  “Oh, your dad’s back. Bye, Maddie. I hope you feel better fast.”

  “Bye, Bobby. Sorry I said your name was stupid. I didn’t really mean it.”

  “It’s okay. Mr. Ivers, can we chat in the hall?”

  He nodded. “Maddie, are you hungry?” He opened the bag, handed her a plastic spoon and took the lid off a small carton of Ben & Jerry’s.

  She gasped and nodded vigorously.

  “Be right back.”

  Outside in the hall, he found Dr. Kuo talking to Dr. Vahle. “Please, I’m begging you, please don’t tell me my six-year-old is suicidal.”

  “Not at all, Mr. Ivers. Maddie simply made an entirely logical conclusion based on limited information. The last time she saw her mother was in a hospital. So when she was brought to the hospital, she assumed she’d go wherever it was that her mother went and they’d get to visit. She was in a tremendous amount of pain and focusing on that…that ‘happy thought’ as she called it, is what helped her cope. When Dr. Kuo said she could leave today, it popped that bubble and your daughter was crushed.”

  Yeah. He knew the feeling.

  “Have you considered any sort of grief counseling?”

  “Um, well, I went a couple of times but…”

  “Okay, I strongly recommend you set up a few sessions for Madison, and suggest you do some family counseling as well, but I’m not worried and don’t think you need to be, either.”

  F-u-c- “I…Christ…I have no idea where to even begin.” And the thought that Lia would know exactly who to call scraped at his wounds with a dull blade.

  “I can help with that.”

  True to her word, Dr. Vahle provided him with a list of resources and later that afternoon, tucked it into the folder of discharge papers he’d had to sign and that was that.

  Maddie was sprung.

  He drove five miles under the speed limit, determined to keep her safe.

  Back at the apartment, he found a spot almost right in front of the courtyard, parked, then jogged around to Maddie’s rear seat and scooped her into his arms.

  “Yay! I get carried.”

  “You sure do, Ducky.”
r />   He refused to look in the direction of Lia’s apartment. He strode up the courtyard steps and to his front door, but it was pulled open before he could find his key.

  “Welcome home!” the girls all shouted.

  “Easy, easy. No hugging.”

  Inside, the living room was decorated with large construction paper signs that said, “Welcome Home!” and “Get Well Fast!” and a dozen balloons. Linda had made a cake with Kim and Liv and even Emmy made a card that was all orange circles, but hey—it was the thought that counted. He got Maddie tucked into a corner of the sofa, brought her a piece of cake, and laughed when Liv asked to see Maddie’s scars and said they were cool. Mike handed Maddie a wrapped present and when she discovered a rainbow of nail polish colors inside, begged to have a manicure party right now.

  The hospital had removed her polish when they’d prepped her for surgery.

  While Maddie blew on her wet nails and the fumes threatened to suffocate them all, she asked the question he’d been dreading.

  “Where’s Lia, Daddy?”

  Gabe shifted Emmy to his other knee—she’d surgically attached herself to him since they’d come home—and sighed. He glanced at Mike, eyebrows raised. Mike crossed his arms and shook his head.

  “I don’t know, Ducky.” And that was the truth. “She’s leaving soon. She may have already left.”

  “But I thought—” she began and then bit her lip.

  “What?”

  “I thought you were gonna get married.”

  He nodded once. “I thought so too, but she didn’t want to.”

  “Did you break up?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” It was for the best, he told himself for maybe the hundredth time. So why didn’t he believe it?

  “Gabe.” Linda put a hand on his shoulder, gave it a rub. “Why don’t you try to grab some sleep in the other room? She’s fine. She’s home and she’s going to be just fine.”

  Sleep. He’d forgotten what that was. “Yeah. Maybe.” He dragged himself off the sofa, tucked Maddie in, made sure she had her bear, and sternly told all the girls not to play rough, hug, dance, or run around. He used the bathroom, and then collapsed onto the bottom bunk in the girls’ bedroom.

  It was a long time before sleep finally took him under and his dreams weren’t of his daughter. They were of Lia.

  *

  “Here you go, sweetie.”

  “You’re the best, Ro.”

  “Of course I am.” Roseann tucked the blanket around Lia’s legs.

  Lia didn’t laugh this time. She was too raw, too busy beating herself up to appreciate Roseann’s wit. She accepted the hot mug of coffee Roseann gave her, but it did little to stop her shivers. She was fairly certain nothing could make her feel warm again. Outside, snow glistened in the fading sunlight, one last blizzard before spring. Lia hated March. Yesterday, it had been too warm for a jacket and today, it was back to Arctic blasts of cold. “I really appreciate you letting me crash on your couch.”

  Roseann rolled her eyes heavenward. “So you’ve said about a hundred times now. Knock it off.”

  Lia sighed, burrowed deeper into the blanket. “How could he do that, Ro?” she whispered. “He said he loved me, said he was in love with me. How could he send me away like that? He won’t answer my calls or texts. He won’t even tell me if Maddie is okay!”

  Fresh tears clogged her throat and Roseann handed her a tissue from the box on the table by the sofa. Roseann wrapped her arms around Lia while she cried. “Shhh, Lia. Maddie’s fine. I talked to Gabe’s friend, Mike. She’s home and she’s fine. Gabe, on the other hand, is miserable.”

  “Good.” Lia clapped a hand over her mouth. “I didn’t mean that.”

  “Yes. You did and it’s fine. You’re entitled to that much.” Roseann brushed unwashed hair out of Lia’s face. “Sweetie, listen to me. I’m not defending him and I’m not taking sides, but I need you to listen to me. Gabe has been through hell, more than once. He’s reacting to those experiences, not to you. The same way you react to Jared and your idiot father, he’s reacting to his past. That’s what this is about. I promise you, when he calms down, when life gets back to normal, he’ll call.”

  “No.” Lia lifted her head. “He won’t.”

  She knew him. She knew she’d crushed his heart and he would go back into his cocoon. Maybe in a year or two, he’d find a way to see her, talk to her. But forgive her?

  No.

  He’d do whatever was necessary to protect himself from more pain.

  “Then maybe you should.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes. You can. You can go straight over there, knock on his door, and—and propose to him.”

  “Propose! Roseann—”

  “Lia, you’ve been glued to this couch for days, crying about how much you love Gabe and didn’t mean to hurt him. Go tell him that.”

  “But what if—”

  “No! Damn it, Lia. Gabe’s right about that part. You don’t get guarantees. We don’t know if a guy’s married with two-point-five kids and a dog. We don’t know if he’s gonna take off with his golf buddy or fall in love with the airhead upstairs just when we find out we’re pregnant with his baby. We don’t know, Lia.”

  Roseann’s eyes held pain of her own and Lia looked away. Love shouldn’t be this hard. It just shouldn’t.

  “It’s a risk, Lia. A leap of faith. Sometimes, we roll the dice and get the seven. Other times, we crap out. Honey, I don’t know Gabe the way you do but even I can see he’s as loyal as they come. One woman, Lia. His whole life, he’s been with one woman and now he wants to make it two. I’d say your odds don’t get any better than that.”

  Lia couldn’t speak. She’d heard every word Roseann said, but fear and doubt were still wrapped around her heart like damn boa constrictors.

  “We know something else, too.” Roseann handed Lia another tissue. “We know that if you don’t take that leap of faith, the odds of you ever being happy again are next to nothing. You gotta be in it to win it, remember?”

  Abruptly furious with both of them, Lia kicked off her blanket. “I’m taking a shower.”

  “You go ahead, sweetie,” Roseann said. “But if you think you’re gonna be able to just wash any of this away, you’ll be disappointed.”

  Disappointed? Lia almost laughed. Disappointment would be a step up. “I’ll get dressed and get out of your hair.”

  Roseann narrowed her eyes and followed Lia into the bathroom. “Hey, this is me you’re talking to. I don’t do the ice-cream-and-chick-flicks thing. I do the ass-kicking thing and your ass is the one that needs kicking here. I get why you left. What I don’t get is why you haven’t been back there, in his face, forcing him to deal with you.”

  “It’s not that simple!” Lia whirled on her best friend. “I didn’t trust him, Ro. I didn’t believe him when he told me, showed me in a dozen different ways, that he loved me.”

  “Why the hell not?” Roseann shouted.

  “Because!” she yelled right back. “Because I’m…I’m scared! For God’s sake, Ro, I’m a train wreck. I can’t have kids, I can’t for the life of me figure out my own parents, and I can’t understand why Jared preferred a vapid child over me.” She slapped a hand to her chest. “Don’t you get it? There is obviously nothing lovable about me. Nothing.”

  The pathetic honesty of those words echoed in the small bathroom and ricocheted around Lia’s heart. Unable to bear it anymore, she dissolved into another fit of tears and cried until she was empty.

  When she lifted her head, Roseann thrust a roll of toilet paper at her.

  “You done now?” she asked.

  With swollen, red-rimmed eyes, Lia glared back at her. “Yeah. I am.”

  “Good. Shower and get dressed. I’ll drive you over there.”

  “Fine.”

  “Damn right.” In the bathroom doorway, she turned, looked Lia right in the eye and said, “I love you. I’ve loved you since we were in first grade so don’t try to f
eed me that bullshit again.”

  “Okay.”

  “And one more thing.”

  With a long-suffering sigh, Lia put her hands on her hips. “What?”

  “If he ever does something like hook up with an upstairs bimbo, then I’ll kick his ass. Meanwhile, you love him. You love him as much—more than—he loves you. Got it?”

  “Yeah.”

  The door slammed after Roseann.

  Lia had to admit, the hot water did wonders to improve her outlook. So did the time alone to reflect on certain mistakes.

  Gabriel was a good man. He’d given her no reason to doubt him. She would spend the rest of her life apologizing to him for that. But first, she had to get him to agree to see her.

  She dressed in jeans and a sweater, didn’t bother with makeup.

  “Lia. You might want to see this.” Roseann held up Lia’s cell phone.

  Lia snatched the phone, heart thudding against her ribs. “It’s from Gabriel.”

  *

  “Anybody seen my phone?” Gabe asked the girls.

  He’d tossed it on to the kitchen counter after he’d spent most of the night shoveling and plowing. Another snowstorm had dropped nearly a foot of snow over Bayside. Since he wasn’t sleeping anyway, he’d grabbed the baby monitor, and cleared snow a bit at a time all throughout the night. There was something soothing about snow in the middle of the night. All the quiet and the clean made him…not content, exactly. But close to it.

  It had been a few weeks since he’d seen Lia. Three, actually. Maddie had returned to school. The grandparents went home. Mike was working in Pennsylvania, on a new property he intended to rehab. Emmy was talking nearly as much as Maddie now. She’d be three this month. He was trying hard to be happy about it. Three years down and just fifteen more to go before he could consider himself done. His last child would be an adult—at least so far as the law went.