A Gift for All Seasons (14 page)

“You really believe that?”

Her laughter warmed him. “I don’t mean I think I can control the future. But I can control what I do about it. To some extent, at least. When I’m presented with options, it’s up to me and nobody else to choose which one of those is best for me. And if that choice doesn’t work out...” She shrugged. “There’s always something else waiting in the wings. Even if I can’t see it right then.”

The snowfall thickened; Patrick tightened his grip on the wheel. “Huh.”

April laughed. “Didn’t mean to get so heavy on you, but...yeah. That’s kind of how I felt, too, when it first hit me. Huh. That I didn’t have to lie down and take whatever fate decided to dish out.”

“Like your mother did, you mean?”

“But, see, since Mama was the one earning a living—she held the power. So she could’ve left my father anytime she wanted. She
chose
to stay.”

“Why?”

“Because she loved him? Because she preferred a man who at least
had
dreams, as opposed to one willing to simply settle for the status quo? Who knows? But in any case, that was her choice.” April fiddled with her seat belt. “I don’t know that it would’ve been mine. In her shoes, I mean.”

Patrick mulled over all that for a few seconds, then said, “So what you’re saying is, you don’t buy into the notion that we’re trapped by circumstances.”

“Only as much as we believe we are. I mean, look how far you’ve come.”

“And here we are,” he said, pulling up in front of the house. “Again.”

“Oh. Wow. Already. Um...you want to come inside?”

“The snow’s getting heavier, I should probably be getting back.”

“I suppose you’re right.” April gathered up her purse, the shake, the bag with her hamburger. “But...”

Patrick sighed. “I suppose you’re still wanting another kiss.”

“If it’s not an imposition.”

He could hear the smile in her voice. The teasing. The implication, that wanting him to kiss her again was her choice. That, for whatever reason, she’d chosen him. This sweet, funny, gorgeous gal had chosen
him
.

Now if only he could figure out what to make of that.

At the moment, though, he owed her a kiss. So, since her lap was full, he leaned over to cup her jaw, lower his mouth to hers, a mouth that was cool and tasted of chocolate and French fries...a mouth that instantly warmed when she opened to him, inviting him to explore.

Need shot straight to his groin, even as another kind of need—to protect her, from him, from herself—swelled inside his chest to where he could barely breathe.

His breathing unsteady, he pulled back, feeling like he’d shut Pandora’s box in the nick of time...only she grabbed the front of his jacket with her one free hand and yanked him close, laughing, and he caught the impish glint in her eyes a moment before their mouths met again.

...and the box flew open, setting free everything he’d kept locked up for far too long, everything he refused to let himself think about, things like passion and closeness and connection, the simple pleasure of being with someone who wanted to be with him.

This time, April broke the kiss, her hand pressed to his chest where she could obviously feel his jackhammering heart. “Go home to your little girl,” she whispered, then leaned forward one last time to place a gentle kiss on his scarred cheek before grinning into his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He waited, both to make sure she was safe inside the house and for his body to readjust to pre-kiss levels before carefully steering the truck back onto the road.

I’m not going anywhere...

Twenty minutes later, after he’d paid Shelley and gone in to check on Lili, straightening her covers and rearranging her favorite stuffed toys around her, April’s words still played over and over in his head. A promise? Or a challenge? Or both?

For several seconds Patrick watched his daughter sleep. Convinced Lili was all he’d ever have, he’d made her his everything. His family, his work—they were important, sure. And he was grateful to both, for helping him regain his sense of purpose. A lot of vets weren’t so fortunate. But Lili...

He reached out, stroked a curl off her cheek. She stirred, grabbing her stuffed Piglet before sticking her thumb in her mouth. Everything he’d done so far, had figured on doing for the foreseeable future, was for her. Except she’d go on to live her own life, make her own choices. And while he hoped, prayed, he’d always be a part of it, he wouldn’t be the center of it, would he?

And then what?

With a sigh, he tore himself away and headed to the kitchen where he’d dumped the bedraggled bag containing his own burger and fries on the table. His jacket shucked off and tossed across the closest chair, he upended the bag, only to grimace. Nothing more unappetizing that stone-cold fries. Although the burger came in a close second. Clearly he was not meant to get dinner tonight.

Or to find peace, he thought as he stuffed the uneaten food back in the bag and dropped it in the garbage, then walked back to the window in his tiny living room, the street glittering from the fresh dusting of snow. On the plus side, he liked April. A lot. Liked being with her. Liked how she made him laugh, how she refused to put up with his crap. And heaven knew it wouldn’t be a hardship to make love to her, a thought that made his breath catch in his chest, that he was even considering something he’d assumed swiped off the table when Natalie left him.

With a woman like April, at least.

But it wouldn’t be easy, either. Driving home, he’d finally put the pieces together—that it wasn’t a coincidence, was it, that he’d gone on his first date in months and bam! He also had his first attack in nearly that long. And hell, yeah, that scared him, that trying to move forward might actually set him back. How could he justify taking that kind of risk, when Lili’s very safety could be at stake?

Sure, April had been a brick tonight, said she wasn’t going anywhere. And he had no doubt she meant it. Especially, he thought, with a half laugh, if she was anything like her mother. But what if the attacks did start up again on a regular basis? Could she handle it?

Could he handle seeing the fire go out in her eyes, when she finally and fully realized what she’d gotten herself into?

And yet.

And yet.

It also wasn’t a coincidence that whatever progress he’d made—physically, mentally, emotionally—had been
because
he’d taken risks. Pushed himself past the fear, the doubts. What if tonight hadn’t been about relapse, but about growing? About being given another shot at living life as fully as he had “before”? Or at least to come pretty damn close. April was giving him a choice, wasn’t she?

And whether to take that shot or not was entirely up to him.

* * *

He’d called.

A can of soda pressed against her collarbone, April stood at one of the gathering room’s bay windows the Monday after Thanksgiving, grinning like some gooney teenager as she watched Patrick and his crew set the grounds to rights again.

He’d
called
.

Granted, the conversation had been short. And blunt, that he was up for taking another step forward, but he couldn’t see beyond that.
Could anybody?
she’d thought as she assured him that was okay. That he’d come this far was huge, even if he didn’t fully realize it yet.

In any case, he’d said Lili was staying with his sister and her kids tonight so maybe they could get together? Do something?

Her heart pitter-patted as she considered what color underwear should she put on.

Because she had a pretty good idea where the evening would lead, a thought that gave her goose bumps in some very interesting places. Especially when she’d gone out to say hello after he and the crew arrived, and he’d caught her eyes in his and oh,
Lordy,
she’d thought she’d melt on the spot.

You ready for this?
the gaze had said, loud and crystal clear, and her girly bits had gone all quivery as they answered back,
You betcha, honey.

Almost as if they knew what to expect. Or had real high hopes, anyway.

Of course, since Patrick hadn’t exactly been subtle with the eat-her-up-with-his-eyes routine, now his whole crew
knew
. Including, unfortunately, his two older brothers. And although she could tell they were pleased for him—if not immensely relieved—she might have liked to keep things under wraps for a moment or two longer—

“Stare at the poor guy any harder,” Blythe said beside her, her arms full of fresh pine garland to wrap around the banister, “and he’s going to combust. Which would kind of defeat the purpose.”

“Where do you want these?” Mel said, carting in a big cardboard box from Blythe’s work van.

“Anywhere, they’re for the tree. So, spill,” Blythe said as Mel deposited the box in the middle of the floor. “Since I notice Ice Man is giving you the same ravenous look you’re giving him. Aw, look, Mel...April’s blushing!”

“Or running a raging fever. What’s going on?”

“Patrick and I...went out. The night after Thanksgiving.”

“No!” Mel sank onto a nearby chair. “How did I not know this?”

“Because you were with me,” Blythe said, “Black Friday shopping yourself senseless.”

“Oh, yeah. Forgot. So...?” Mel gave her an evil grin. “What happened?”

“And maybe that’s none of your business,” April said, getting on her knees to paw through the box, pulling out a paper bag of delicate, old-fashioned straw ornaments. “Gosh, Blythe, these are pretty—”

“And you are not hijacking this conversation. This is us, remember? Hey,” her oldest cousin said, “I told you about
my
first time. Fair’s fair.”

“You were fif
teen,
Blythe,” April said, continuing to dig, this time unearthing a bunch of whimsical wooden animals. “At that point all you wanted to do was scandalize Mel and me.”

“She’s got a point, hon,” Mel said, and Blythe smacked her with the end of the garland.

April laughed. “And anyway...this wasn’t like that.”

“Meaning you’re still—?”

“Do you think we should put the tree by the window? Or out in the entryway, by the stairs?”

“April!” Hands flailed. Bracelets jangled. “For God’s sake!”

She supposed it wasn’t entirely fair, within the parameters of their relationship, to remain completely tight-lipped about the evening. Even if, at the time, Blythe had perhaps shared more than she should’ve, April thought with a smile, remembering how as a thirteen-year-old she’d been equally thrilled and horrified by her cousin’s all-too-detailed recounting of her exploits.

Still, as she finally gave them an abbreviated, and somewhat reconstructed, account of the evening—Patrick’s panic attack was definitely off-limits—she felt as though she were in a time warp, the conversation sounding a dozen years old, even in her own head. She wasn’t a child. Or innocent. Far from it, given her childhood, some of the drudge jobs she’d done, those four years with Clayton and his mother. Except in this one thing...

“So that was it. We came home after the restaurant and then...well...we...”

“Gah, you’re killing me, here.”

She looked up at Blythe. “Fine. He kissed me.”

“Okay, promising. And then...?”

“He kissed me again? Or I kissed him. I don’t exactly remember.”

“So you made out?”

“Maybe.”

Mel and Blythe exchanged glances before Mel laughed. “You guess? You honestly don’t know?”

“Does it matter?”

“You are one little weirdo,” Blythe muttered, shaking her head. “So did anything else happen? Did he cop a feel? What I mean is, did he—”

“I know what it means, sheesh! But I had a bunch of bags and stuff in my lap. So no.” Another exchanged glance. And a double sigh. “They were pretty hot kisses, though. At least, they were hot to me. And when we finished...his eyes were...you know.”

“Glassy?”

“Yeah.”

Her cousins high-fived each other, although Mel shook her head. “I still can’t believe...” She blew out a breath. “You never even got hot and heavy with some guy in high school?”

“Hell, middle school,” Blythe said.

“And you don’t think I would’ve told you if I had? Back then, I mean.” Because even then, being the youngest had been a pain in the patoot, always feeling like she was playing catch-up.

Horror filled Blythe’s eyes. “Please tell me you’ve at least been kissed.”

April laughed. “Yes, I’ve been kissed,” she said, earning her twin sighs of relief from her audience. But
gah,
was right—between Blythe’s precocious experimentation with her high school boyfriends and Mel’s having Quinn at seventeen, never mind that the circumstances behind that hadn’t exactly been ideal, sometimes April wondered how she was even related to these women.

Or to the human race, when it came right down to it.

Even so... “Anyway, this isn’t about then. It’s about now. And...we’re going out again tonight.”

And she blushed. Again. Worse than before.

She was still on the carpet by the box. Now both cousins came and sat beside her, Blythe slipping her arm around her shoulders. “And you’re worried you’ll make a fool of yourself.”

“Something like that, yeah. That he’ll be disappointed.” She pointed to her chest. “These aren’t exactly awe inspiring, you know.”

Mel chuckled. “Trust me, the only thing he’s going to notice is that you have them.”

“You got that right,” Blythe said, then gave her a squeeze. “You have condoms?”

Blushing again, she nodded. “Bought them yesterday.” Several kinds. And sizes. At some convenience store in Easton she could never set foot in again. “And I still think I should, you know. Warn him.”

“Bad idea,” Mel said, shaking her head.

“At some point he’s going to figure it out, you know. And I’d far rather have him think I was inexperienced than sucky.”

Blythe snorted. “In this instance,
sucky
might be okay.”

“Honestly, Blythe,” Mel said, rolling her eyes. Then she laid a hand on April’s knee. “Why don’t you play it by ear? If it seems right to say something, then do it.”