Completing the Pass (23 page)

Realizing her father had slid into the past, and was referring to Gail and Josh, Carri just nodded and looped her arm around her father's elbow and stood, staring at the house that held so much promise to someone's eye, so much emptiness to another's. “Sad they couldn't make it work.”

“Some men weren't built to be fathers. And some men were. Josh is built to be a father.”

If it had come from Maeve, it would have felt like manipulation. Tugging on the heartstrings to really seal the deal between them. Instead, her father's innocent words spurred something inside her she hadn't considered before.

Josh with a child. Josh with a pack of children. Rolling around in the backyard with them, little boys clinging to his legs as he trudged from one corner of the lot to the other, a football clutched in one elbow, a little sister in the other.

Her heart physically clenched at the picture it painted. At the happiness, the pure joy she saw in their blurry faces. The faces of those magical, mythical children of Joshua Leeman's. Those children that could possibly share her DNA as well as his.

And how sweet that felt, watching the scene play out in her mind's eye as she and her father stood in front of the empty house.

***

They returned home half an hour later, the tips of their ears a little chilly, but otherwise unscathed. Herb walked into the kitchen to absently kiss his wife on the top of the head before shuffling toward his recliner in the family room.

Maeve said nothing. As she hadn't stopped chattering and asking Carri questions for the past two days straight, Carri wondered why. “We just took a walk around the neighborhood,” she said slowly, easing up to the kitchen sink to wash her hands and help her mother prep for dinner. “I didn't overtax him, promise.”

Maeve turned toward her then, and her eyes were bloodshot and teary.

“Mom?” Carri's stomach pitched. “What's wrong? What . . . Josh? Gail? What?”

“It's fixed,” was all she said, then reached over and picked up an opened envelope that had been sitting beside her on the kitchen counter. Handing it to Carri without another word, she went back to slicing tomatoes.

“What . . . Okay, I guess I'll just read,” she said when Maeve shook her head. “It's from . . . I've never heard of this company, so, okay.”

She read the letter once through, then read it again another three times to make sure she was reading this correctly. “How did this happen?”

Her mother shrugged a shoulder. “Apparently, the insurance company submitted our name to a charity that deals with people with dementia. We were selected to receive in-home care, thirty hours a week, until your father needs permanent residence in a nursing home or I retire and can come home to stay with him.” Maeve looked mystified at the idea. “I've never even heard of this charity. But I called the insurance company to see . . . and it's legitimate. They said so.”

“Wow.” Carri's hands trembled a little as she sat on the stool beside the kitchen sink. “I mean . . . Wow.”

“Yes, quite.” Maeve smiled a little, though it was wobbly. “They have CRNs who will come in and stay with your father while I'm working. I might have to drop my hours a little, but nothing remotely like I originally thought. It's unbelievable.”

No kidding. She looked on the back of the letter, then the front again, then the envelope. But she couldn't find the
gotcha
. “I'd check with an attorney first thing in the morning, just in case,” she warned. “But if it works out, then I'm really happy for you, Mom. Happy for both of you. This is amazing.”

“Everything's working out.” Maeve's voice seemed a bit stronger now. “You and Josh, in-home care for your father, I get to keep my job . . .”

Her mother continued, but Carri didn't actually hear anything more. Now that the original motivator for being in Santa Fe—her father's health—was going to be taken care of, there was nothing keeping her there.

“Invite Josh for dinner, would you?” Maeve asked. “I've got more than enough, and I'll call Gail. We need to celebrate.”

“Celebrate,” Carri said woodenly, sliding off the stool. “Sure. Yeah, I'll just . . . go do that.”

Josh entered the Gray house with a customary knock, toeing his shoes off before walking into the kitchen, to find his mother and Maeve conferencing over stovetop. “Hey, what's up?”

Gail came over to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “Don't go into the family room, Herb's taking a quick nap. Carri took him on a walk earlier and he's exhausted.”

“Sure, yeah.” He glanced briefly into the darkened family room, but no Carri. “Where is she?”

Not pretending to mistake his meaning, Maeve pointed toward the back hall. “She's in her bedroom.”

He nodded in thanks and headed back there, leaving the two moms to continue cackling over their pot of whatever. He saw Carri's bedroom door was completely shut, so knocked and waited for her to give him permission to enter.

“Hey,” he said, opening the door and closing it again behind him. “They're one witch short of a Macbeth play.” When Carri raised a dark eyebrow at that, he shrugged. “Three witches . . . Moms stirring a big pot of soup together . . . Seemed to work in my head.”

“Oh. Right.” She nodded absently, then looked around the room, as if searching for something she'd left behind. It was then Josh noticed the suitcase, half-packed.

“What's going on?”

“Packing. I told you yesterday I was heading to Utah.”

“Right, right. To meet with Jen about her replacement.”

“Jess, but otherwise correct. And now . . .” She sighed and sat down beside the suitcase. There was no way to sit beside her now, with one hip wedged against the headboard and the other hip beside the heavy case. So he sat on the other side of the suitcase, not caring for the symbolism of being separated. “Now I might be staying.”

He blinked at that. “Come again?”

She told him, then, about the charity providing an in-home health worker, and how unexpected it was. What a blessing it was.

“That's great,” he said, meaning it. “Your mom has to be on cloud nine.”

“She is.” Carri smiled, nodding. “She's thrilled. We both love Dad, but a medical professional can do so much we can't. Knows so much we don't. And the burden that's lifted off Mom's shoulders . . . It's unbelievable.”

“So why are you upset?”

“I'm not upset.” Carri took a shuddering breath. “Not really. It just seems like, suddenly, I'm not tied down to Santa Fe like I thought. It's an abrupt change and my mind is still wrapping itself around the fact.”

He could understand that. But even so . . . “You're leaving for good. You seem like your mind's made up.”
Please don't let it be.

“I have to go back, regardless. Jess is done, and I have to make choices up there. And now I have the option of choices here. It's all . . .” She rotated her hands around her head, shaking some of the baby fine dark hairs that brushed the tips of her ears. “It's just all jumbled in here.”

He rotated until he was kneeling down in front of her, and took her hands. “Is there anywhere in that brain of yours the thought that I love you? And I want you to stay, now that you have the choice? That it's not the moms pushing anymore, that you actually can choose?”

“It's in there. Sometimes, it feels like that's
all
that's in there.” Her eyes brimmed with tears and she blinked furiously. “But I can't . . . not now. I have to get to Utah. I have to check on the houses, figure out what's going on with Jess, find . . . find answers. Because you—”

“Don't end that sentence with
deserve more
.”

She held up her hands, as if to say,
Then I can't end that sentence.

It was quiet in the back of the house, with nothing but their breathing—hers short and a little breathy, his harsh and angry—to break the silence.

“So you're heading back to Utah. Just leaving it all behind. Because you think you'll never be sure if us, what we have . . .” He pulled her hand into his so their wrists—their pulses—were touching together. “You'll never be sure if this right here is because of the moms, or because we were finally ready for each other on our own. Two adults making adult choices and finding out what works for us. Finding out who we love. Because I love you. God, Carri, I love you. And it breaks my fucking heart to hear you don't know if it's real. That you doubt me.”

“I don't doubt you,” she started to protest.

“You do.” He let go, stood, shocked at how angry he was getting. To cool his head down, he walked to the small window by her closet, which was covered with lacy curtains. It looked out into the backyard. He saw the patch of grass where there used to be a turtle-shaped sandbox. Herb had removed it, waited a season for the grass to recover . . . and it never did. Two-plus decades later, there was still a turtle-shaped patch of dead grass in their backyard.

Who the hell else would know that about her? About her life? Who else would she eventually bring home to her parents, show them her childhood home, tell them about the turtle-shaped grass-killing sandbox?

His fists clenched at the thought.

“If you don't trust my feelings, if you think I'm being manipulated just like you are from the moms, then you're right.” It made him sick, but he closed his eyes against the pain and forged ahead. “You're right. You can't stay here without worrying it wasn't your idea. I can't keep you here without knowing you believe in my love. So there it is.”

“There it is,” she whispered behind him. But he didn't turn around to look at her when he left.

***

Josh drove around, not sure at all where he was heading, until he pulled up to Trey Owens's house. The simple, not-at-all-threatening two-story home in the totally typical middle-class neighborhood. Yeah, the house had a kick-ass alarm system. Trey wasn't a fool. But the fact that a guy like that lived in a house like this, had a fantastic, down-to-earth wife, a semi-normal home life . . . It gave a man hope.

But it wasn't Trey who opened the door when he knocked. It was Cassie, looking shocked, but not unwelcoming. “Josh, hey. Come on in.”

“Thanks.” He stepped inside, then followed Cassie toward the kitchen. He declined her offer of a bottle of water and sat at the kitchen countertop. “I hope I'm not interrupting anything.”

“Nope, I was just about to put a salad together for dinner. Trey will be home in like five minutes.” She began shredding lettuce into a strainer in the sink. “Join for dinner?”

He almost declined again, then his stomach made a rumbling sound. Sheepishly, he shrugged. “I could eat.”

Cassie laughed, then inclined her head. “Come on, then. We don't feed lazy butts in this house. You gotta work for your dinner.”

Ten minutes later, Trey walked in to find him slicing onions while Cassie spun the lettuce. “This is an interesting scene to come home to.” Walking to Cassie, he tipped her head back to plant a kiss on her mouth. “Hey, beautiful.”

“Hey, handsome. Look what I found on our porch. Can we keep him?”

Trey gave Josh a skeptical glare, then grinned. “Yeah, I guess so. Let me borrow him for a second first, Cass.”

“I guess I can spare my number one assistant.” Her voice was belabored, but her eyes were sparkling as Josh followed Trey into the living room where two pretty broken in recliners sat.

“Did the coaches call you?” Trey asked as they each sat in a seat.

“No, I— Why?”

Trey lifted the leg to his jeans. No brace, not even a simple wrap decorated his ankle. “I'm good to go. Got the okay from the doctors this afternoon. That's where I was instead of practice today.”

Josh stared at his teammate's foot for a moment, then the floor. “Wow. That's . . . great, man. Sorry.” He shook his head and held out his hand for a quick high five. “Sorry, that was pretty bad. I'm happy for you, seriously.”

“Except this kicks you back to the bench,” Trey added for him dryly. “I get it. That's why I thought you were here. To talk about it.”

“No, not at all. It's fine, seriously. I'm happy for you.” He meant it, which made it easier to show so on his face. His dark mood lightened, just a fraction, and he found himself nodding so much he looked like a bobblehead doll. “It shouldn't be a shock, anyway. You've been playing more and more in practice. I'm just struggling to catch up.”

“Well, check your phone when you leave here. My guess is you have a voice mail, inviting you to come into practice early tomorrow so you can be enlightened.”

He kept nodding, because he couldn't stop.

“So, if you weren't here about that, then something else has you looking like someone ran over your dog, then went back in time and told the four-year-old version of you there was no Santa Claus. What's up?”

“Carri broke up with me.” When Trey blinked, he elaborated. “Maybe not
broke up
since I'm not sure what we were to begin with. But she's heading back to Utah.”

“What about her father?” Both men looked up to see Cassie standing in the doorway, a glass of water in her hand. “Sorry.” She came in and handed the tumbler to Trey. “Didn't mean to pry, but I like her, and I loved her dad. What's going on?”

Trey gave him a sideways glance that clearly said,
I can ask her to leave if you want me to.

Josh shook his head fractionally. “You two are friends now, so I'm sure you'll hear. Her parents caught a break and they got a home health worker to come by daily while Maeve works.” He gave them a brief explanation of the charity aspect and how it was sudden. “So now she doesn't have to stay. She has a choice. And she chose to leave.”

“Uh, no.” Cassie sat down on Trey's lap, the move looking fluid, as if they sat that way all the time. Ugh. Happy couples. “She is still in the mindset of not having a choice.”

Josh sat back in the recliner, rocking a little. The chair was broken in from, he assumed, someone else sitting in it. Someone else much larger than himself. “Who the hell sits in this thing normally?”

“Stephen.”

Well, that made sense. Though the now defensive lineman had been a hefty guy before he'd slimmed down in the last year or so, thanks to a stint in rehab. The chair must have been broken in from his pre-rehab days.

“She sees the option now to—”

“No, she doesn't,” Cassie interrupted. “She sees the plan she was on BJ. Before Josh,” she elaborated, then snorted. “That's a terrible acronym. Ignore that.”

“Gladly,” Josh muttered. Trey just rolled his eyes and sank farther back into his recliner. It jostled Cassie a little, but she didn't break stride.

“She has a dominating, manipulative mom. Manipulating with love, I know, but still, it's hard to swallow as an adult child. Believe me, I get the awkward-family-dynamics issue,” she added with serious emphasis. “If anyone knows how awkward family dynamics can make you do weird things, it's me. But she's had ten years of doing it on her own, mostly. And her reasons for leaving were, back then, extreme and very deeply emotional. To her, coming back would feel like quitting. Like giving in. Even if it was her choice, and nothing else were standing in her way. Because she put such a final stamp on Santa Fe in her mind, to come back feels like tucking tail.”

“That's crap.”

“That's very real in her mind.” Cassie took Trey's glass from his hand and took a sip before handing it back. “Women are emotional. We're also very smart. Sometimes we just have to wait until those two sides combine to create one awesome super-beast of a female to get shit done.”

“Super-beast,” Trey said on a choked laugh. Squeezing Cassie in his arms, he nuzzled at her throat. “I'll remember that for later.”

“Also of note,” Cassie said conversationally, “if you actually ever call a female a super-beast, prepare to die.”

“This has been great, but I'm hearing zero practical-application skills.”

Cassie narrowed her gaze. “You weren't listening.”

Trey shook his head in warning, mouthing,
Abort
.

“I, uh . . . yeah. I was listening. I have to, uh . . .” Josh fumbled through his mind for the answer. “Wait.”

Cassie nodded approvingly. “Exactly. This is one she has to come up with on her own. She'll get there. I saw you two together. I listened to her talk about you, about life, about everything. I have confidence.”

“That's the newlywed glow talking.”

Trey grinned at him. “It's a beautiful thing.”

Josh could only hope he'd have the chance to figure that out for himself.

***

A few days later, in Utah, Carri sat in her car, staring at the house she'd missed out on purchasing because she was still in Santa Fe and wouldn't let Jess pull the trigger for her. It was . . . perfect. A little shoebox of a house, nestled between other adorable houses. The street was quiet for being so close to campus, and each home on the street had window boxes. Currently unfilled, given the fact that they were in Utah and it was already early October. But it painted a picture, nonetheless.

The sound of a saw buzzed through the quiet like a hot knife through butter. She grinned, knowing the neighbors were probably pissed at having their little oasis temporarily destroyed . . . but it was for the good of the neighborhood. As soon as construction on the home was complete, it would again be a vital part of the street, adding value to the surrounding homes for no longer being a foreclosure.

And she'd missed out.

Her passenger-side door opened without warning, and Jess slid in before shutting it. Adjusting her tortoise-shell glasses, she watched Cassie warily. “Hey. Long time no see.”

“Hi.” Carri gripped the steering wheel for a moment, then released it, along with her tension. “Sorry. Family stuff is messy.”

“I get it. I'm sorry about your dad.” Jess patted her on the arm. “And sorry I was snippy with you the times you called.”