Come Back To Me (34 page)

“Does this have anything to do with your feelings for James?” he asked.

“Yes and no.”

“How much
yes
and how much
no?
”

Cara sighed. “Yes, because I still have feelings for James despite the fact that I don’t expect to see him again. No, because you are my friend and I want to keep it that way. I don’t want to become lovers, Will, and that has nothing to do with James. I’m sorry.”

Will gave her a crooked grin. “Do you anticipate a time, maybe in the not too distant future, when you might want to become lovers? Because I’m willing to wait for you.”

“Oh Will. I love you, I do, but . . .”

“Not in that way.”

“Yeah,” she answered ruefully. “Not in
that
way.”

“Well, that sucks.”

“It does, doesn’t it? I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Give me a chance. One night in your bed, that’s all I’m asking, just one night. C’mon Cara. You’ve really bruised my ego here. It may take me years to recover from this.”

Cara laughed. “No nights in my bed and I’m sure you’ll recover quickly.” She reached over and laid her hand on his. “You are one of the most wonderful men I know. You’re very cute, you’re tall, you’re a doctor. You are considerate and kind . . .”

“Don’t forget extremely intelligent and witty. I’m quite witty.”

Cara laughed again. “Yes, that too.”

“So what do we do now? Now that I’ve shown you how vulnerable I am and you’ve broken my heart?”

“We don’t do anything different. We stay friends. We stay really good friends who don’t have sex. Will, you’re my best friend. I cherish you. You have to know that. I cherish you.”

“Cherish is good.” Will poked her leg with his fingertip. “I can go with cherish.”

“Incorrigible,” grumbled Cara.

“That too. I can go with incorrigible.”

“Seriously Will, I don’t know what I’d do without your friendship.”

Will pulled his car up to the curb in front of Cara’s house. “Look, I’ll always be here for you. I want you to know that.”

“I know.” Cara leaned over the console and kissed him on the cheek. Together they got Jeremy out of the car without waking him. Will unlocked the front door and held it open for her.“You want me to come up with you?”

“No, I’m fine.” She kept her voice to a whisper. “Thanks for bringing in the car seat. I can get him to bed. Goodnight, Will.”

Cara climbed the stairs, Jeremy cradled in her arms. He slept soundly, his little belly full of pizza, birthday cake and ice cream. He’d had a big day playing in her mother’s backyard. She doubted he’d even wake up for his bedtime bottle. She managed to get his clothes off and change his diaper without waking him.

She zipped him into his flannel sleeper and turned him onto his stomach, covering him with his favorite quilt. She watched Jeremy’s little fist reach for the edge of the quilt and he pulled it towards his face. He always slept with the soft quilt nestled against his cheek.

God, Cara loved this child. She ran her palm down his back. He meant everything to her. She turned out the light and started down the stairs. She had a few papers left to grade before class on Monday.

Just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, Cara heard a soft knock on the door. Will. The man had a hard time taking no for an answer. She flipped open the door.

“Will, I already told . . .”

Jerry stood there beneath the porch light. Cara clicked off the light and grabbed him by the shirt. She hauled the big man inside and shut the door behind him, flipping the deadbolt.

“Jerry . . . Jerry . . .” Cara stammered. She buried her face in his chest and began to cry.

Jerry wrapped his arms around her and held on tight. After a few minutes he backed up a step and lifted her chin. He examined her with a critical eye.

“Looking good, Red, looking good. Just wanted to see for myself. I had to make sure you’re okay. Why the hell are you crying?”

“Because I’m so happy to see you. Because of everything you did for me. Because . . .” Cara burst into tears again. “Are you safe? Is it safe for you to be here?”

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.”

“How long can you stay?”

“I’d like to be gone before dawn. I wouldn’t want any of your neighbors to catch you with a strange man.” He chucked her under the chin.

“Come on then. Let’s not waste any time. Come upstairs and see your son.”

“He’s mine, huh?” Jerry asked, his face breaking into a huge grin. “I wondered.”

“Yes, he’s yours. I’m glad he’s yours.”

Cara led Jerry up the steps. They stood side by side over Jeremy’s crib.

“Can I wake him up? Can I hold him?”

“Of course,” said Cara. “It’s okay. He’s an easy baby. It won’t bother him. It’s his birthday today.”

Jerry hoisted his son out of the crib, bringing the quilt with him. The big man cradled the baby like an expert.

“My cousin in South America has a couple of kids,” he explained.

Cara suggested they bring Jeremy to her room where Jerry could stretch out on the bed with him. She lay down with him, the baby between them.

When Jerry removed the quilt to have a good look at his son, Jeremy began to whimper and he opened his eyes. Still sleepy, he looked at his mother first; then he turned toward the big stranger lying next to him. Cara watched his eyes grow wide with surprise. He grinned his silly baby grin and poked Jerry in the chin.

“Tuck . . .” he said.

“He means truck,” said Cara. “He wants to play.”

Jeremy wiggled his way down to the bottom of the bed and stood up, ready to head downstairs.

“No, baby, Mommy will bring your toys up here. This is Jerry, he’s your . . .” she looked at Jerry.

“His friend,” Jerry said. “I’m your friend, Jeremy. And your mommy’s friend too.”

Cara went downstairs and returned with as many of Jeremy’s toys as she could carry. She left the two of them alone on the floor of her bedroom, playing a game of horsy. She went into the kitchen and made a plate of sandwiches for Jerry and got out a box of animal crackers for Jeremy. She grabbed a couple of sodas and warmed a baby bottle of milk and carried everything upstairs. Then she walked back downstairs and sat at the kitchen table, grading papers for over an hour while they played.

She smiled as she heard Jerry change a dirty diaper. Finally he came downstairs, alone. He flopped onto her couch.

“I put him back to bed,” he said, patting the cushion next to him. “C’mere, Red.”

Cara came to him. She nestled into his broad chest and he wrapped an arm around her.

“So where’s the schmuck from North Carolina?”

Cara laughed out loud. “In Minnesota.”

“When’s he coming down here?”

“He’s not,” said Cara. “I haven’t spoken with him.”

“What is he, some kind of idiot?”

“No, I am. Remember?”

Jerry wagged his finger at her. “Uh-uh. None of that. I never want to hear those words come out of your mouth again. You’re smart and you’re tough, Red. You protected my kid when I couldn’t. I can never thank you enough for that.”

“You thanked me in advance,” said Cara. “Everything you told me, everything you warned me about, happened. I mean, it wasn’t exact, but it happened like you thought it would. The baby . . . The baby made me more determined. It wasn’t just me anymore. I had to think about my child. I couldn’t bring my child into that world.”

“It was bad, wasn’t it?”

“Yes Jerry.” She buried her head deeper into his shoulder. “It was very bad.”

“I’m sorry, Red. I’m sorry.” He leaned over and pressed his lips against her curls.

The two sat in silence for a while, comfortable, like old friends.

Cara asked, “What are you doing back in the States?”

“I had to see for myself that you were okay. I read the newspaper accounts. I heard about the baby. I wanted to know. I had to see him at least once.”

“He looks like you, I think—the hair, the eyes. He’s going to be tall too. You know he was walking at eight months. I guess running is more like it. He was standing in his playpen one day in the backyard while I mowed the grass. I looked over just in time to see him throw up his arms and race across the playpen. He hasn’t stopped running since.”

Jerry laughed. “Don’t let him play football,” he said, “too many injuries. He should stick with track and field or baseball. If he’s really tall, he can play basketball.”

“Yes sir.” Cara smiled up at him. “No football. Baseball. Track and field. Basketball if he’s really tall. Got it.”

Jerry drew his fingers along the side of Cara’s face, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “He looks like you, Red. He’s pretty, like you.”

“He’s a good baby, Jerry,” said Cara, yawning. “He’s a lovely child.” She put her feet up and wiggled under Jerry’s arm, making herself more comfortable.

“You rest. I’ll stay for a while. Go ahead, relax. Where did you say that Minnesota boy is?”

“Hmm? Oh,” Cara said, with another yawn, “Grand Marais.”

∗    ∗    ∗

Cara woke up on the couch, alone with a kink in her neck. She reached down and found that a blanket had been thrown over her. She still wore her clothes from the night before. Upstairs the baby fussed in his crib. Jerry was gone.

The last thing Cara remembered before falling asleep was feeling completely at ease, safely cocooned in Jerry’s strong arms. Tears stung her eyes at the thought that she might never see him again, that he wouldn’t get to watch his son grow up. Worse, she knew Jerry wanted to be here.

A lot of guys would be happy to get off the hook. Jerry wasn’t one of those guys. But he didn’t have a choice in the matter, nor did she. They had to protect each other and their son. Cara stretched to relieve some of the stiffness in her body. At least Jerry knew now that he had a son. And now she knew that he knew how to find her.

After a big morning kiss, Cara lifted Jeremy from his crib. She managed to convince him to hold still long enough for her to change his wet diaper. As soon as she’d finished, he squirmed away and toddled off to slide down the stairs on his stomach. Cara supervised despite the fact that her son had become quite adept at going up and down stairs by himself.

To describe her son as
a handful
didn’t do him justice. He was a mini hurricane. Cara helped him into his high chair, dropping a few Cheerios onto the tray and handing him a bottle of apple juice.

As she scrambled some eggs for the two of them, she realized that she missed a man. One man in particular. She missed James. Damn him. She missed James.

December 1979

J
ames paced back and forth over the rug in his office, restless. What the hell was he still doing in Grand Marais? He reminded himself that he had it all. He should be grateful. A beautiful woman named Jennifer Bates counted the days until he moved to New York. Her father’s well-established cardiology practice with its gorgeously appointed offices was waiting for him on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. The last time he’d spoken to Jennifer, she’d told him she was already looking for a three-bedroom apartment with a view. So, he asked himself again, what the hell was he doing in Grand Marais? He should have left a year ago. Jennifer had wanted to get married a year ago, but he’d stayed on.

For what? The cross county skiing? Kayaking in the Boundary Waters? The hellacious mosquitoes? The babies he wasn’t even trained to deliver? The kids with strep throat? The bad roads in the winter, the cold, the snow, the ice storms? Why was he still here? He had a life waiting for him and a woman who made no bones about the fact that she wanted him.

So what if Jennifer was, well, a socialite? What was wrong with that? At least she wasn’t complicated. He’d had complicated. It hadn’t worked out very well.

James asked himself a fourth time. Why the hell was he wasting his time in Grand Marais? He stopped in front of the window, watching the big fat flakes of snow swirl around the old brick building. He’d stayed because of one word.

Cara.

Will had told him she’d moved back to Iowa City. His friend had even said, blunt as always, that he thought he was in love with her. James had been tempted to jump in his truck, race down to Iowa City and punch Will’s lights out when he heard those words, but instead he’d kept his distance.

He loved Cara, goddamn her, he loved her, but he couldn’t stand the thought of being hurt like that again. He couldn’t go through that kind of hell ever again. He couldn’t watch her fall apart. He couldn’t sit by, helpless, while she destroyed herself again and destroyed him in the process. So he wished Will the best. Fuck it. He’d go to New York in the spring. He and Jennifer would set a date, he’d move into his nice, spacious, well-appointed suite of offices and he’d learn to play fucking golf.

James hated golf.

James tossed his stethoscope on the desk and ripped off his lab coat. He’d seen his last patient. He decided to forget the stack of charts on his desk and go home early, maybe put on his skis and head out into the fresh snow. Clear his head.

Jennifer had been begging him to come to New York for Christmas. He’d told her no. He’d already volunteered to take calls so the regular docs could have the holiday off. Maybe he should reconsider. Peter would probably agree to work for him. James figured the man could use the extra money. Christmas was expensive when you had four kids.