Counting Stars (13 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Order what you want. My treat,” Jane said, opening her menu.

“Since it’s your birthday,
I
should be treating,” Tara protested. Her menu remained closed as she scanned the Michelangelo-inspired art adorning the walls of Assagio Ristorante. “This place is great.”

Jane smiled. “I’m glad you like it. I chose it because I know how much you love painting.”

Tara sighed as she reached for her menu. “I used to, didn’t I?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Jane took a drink of water and set the glass down. “There is
one
thing you could do for my birthday, Tara.”

“I already broke up with Zack.”

“
Really?
That’s wonderful,” Jane said, truly delighted by the news.

Tara looked hurt. “I wouldn’t say it’s
wonderful,
but—”

“Wise,” Jane corrected. “It was a very
wise
decision.” She beamed at Tara. “I’m proud of you. Now you’ll have time to
remember
that you love painting—and that you’re very good at it. You’ll be able to have a cat, only take Tae Bo if you want to . . .” Her voice trailed off. “But that’s not what I was going to ask.” She slid a folder across the table. “I want you to sell my house.”

“What?”
Tara exclaimed, nearly rising out of her chair. “Are you crazy? You love the cottage.” She pushed the folder back. “No way. I’m not going to be an accomplice to whatever temporary insanity has gotten into you.”

“I am perfectly sane,” Jane assured her. “I am also in Paul’s will—as guardian of his children.”

“Jane, Jane, Jane.” Tara put her elbows on the table and buried her head in her hands. “Have you learned nothing from watching my disasters?”

Before Jane could answer, the waiter appeared at their table. Jane ordered while Tara studied her menu.

A few moments later, she looked up. “I’m ready.” Tara leaned toward the waiter and pointed a polished nail at her menu. “I’d like the capellini donato—unless you’d recommend something else.” She tilted her face up expectantly.

Jane rolled her eyes. Tara couldn’t be
that
heartbroken over Zack if she could flirt with a guy who was probably still in college.

“An excellent choice,” he said, and reached for Tara’s menu.

She stopped him, her hand on his. “Perhaps you will come back later and tell us about the
desserts
.” The word rolled off her lips seductively.

“Of course.” He gave a polite nod. Tugging at the menu, he backed away from their table.

Jane waited until he was out of sight. “Tara, you’re shameless!”

“Am not.” Tara put on her best pout. “It’s therapeutic, you know. I’ll get over Zack much faster if I find I can still attract other men.”

“Don’t you think that guy’s a little young for you?”

“I’m not going to
marry
him. I don’t even want to go out with him.” Tara picked up her drink. “I just need to know I can get his attention.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand you,” Jane said, taking a breadstick from the basket the waiter had brought.

Tara tapped her nails on the table. “Then just learn from me. I will
not
sell your house, Jane. You love that place. You love the island.”

“You’re right. I do,” Jane confessed. “But Tara, I can’t have everything, and I’d rather have Paul and his children.”

“You’ve only known this guy a month. And here you are, ready to give up your whole lifestyle to suit his? It’s crazy. It’s—it’s something
I’d
do.”

“Paul isn’t Zack.”

“Hel-lo.”
Tara waved a hand in front of Jane’s face. “From my point of view, this is what you’re getting. First.” She held up one finger. “A sick man—needs pampering.” She held up another finger. “Second, he’s recently widowed—still loves his wife—not a whole lot of love coming your way. Third and fourth, he’s got two needy children—
tons
of work. And fifth, medical bills galore. And you’re
quitting
your job?” Tara shook her head. “Wake up, girl. You’re always warning me about getting my feet wet in murky water. Well you just dove right in, completely ignoring the sign that says
Strong Undertow
.”

“Sink or swim,” Jane said lightheartedly.

Tara didn’t return her smile.

“And I’m not quitting. I already talked to Ed, and I can come back when I need to.” Jane held the folder out to her again. “
Please,
Tara. I’ve signed everything, listing you as the realtor. I owe much less than it’s worth now, so it should be an easy sale. You can have the whole commission.” She flipped open the folder. “I’ve taped the key right here.”

Tara frowned. “You’re already out?”

Jane nodded. “We packed the past four days, and my brothers are moving the big stuff tomorrow. I really need you to do this for me. Because I can’t.”

“You can’t because you don’t really want to.”

“I’ve made my choice.”

Reluctantly, Tara took the folder. “I’m worried about you, Jane. You’ve always told me I was foolish for jumping into relationships—and you’ve always been right.” She met Jane’s gaze. “I wanted to believe in what you said—that you were holding out for someone special and you’d find him. But this can’t be it.” She shook her head sadly. “Just remember you can always come back to Emerald, and the rolls at the bakery taste even better when you’re recovering from a heartbreak.”

* * *

Jane sat on one of the stools at Caroline’s kitchen counter. “How was Madison tonight?”

Caroline closed the dishwasher. “She was great. Jessica fed her twice and even changed her diaper. I think I’ve just about got myself a babysitter trained.”

“Good timing,” Jane said. “Cause I think I’m going to be booked from now on.”

“You think?” Caroline teased. She rinsed out the dishcloth and began wiping down the counter. She stopped when she came to Jane’s purse and the papers next to it. “What are these?”

“Singles info. Tara made me take them and
promise
to read them in exchange for her listing my house. She thinks I’ve lost my mind.”

Caroline tossed the dishcloth in the sink and picked up the papers. “She’s concerned about
your
decision?”

Jane smiled. “Funny, isn’t it?”

“Not really,” Caroline said.

“Not you too.” Jane frowned.

“Nope.” Caroline held her hands up. “You won’t hear another word from me. Heaven knows I’ve done enough stupid things in my life that I’d better not judge you.”

Jane’s frown turned into an outright scowl.

“Anyway, Tara’s just trying to be a good friend.” Caroline perused the brochures. “Listen to this. My Matchmaker. You get a personal interview where you compose a thoughtful ten- to fifteen-minute video for their library. Says here the success rate is high.” She flipped to the next paper. “Or how about this one—Aim-High Adventures. ‘Meet the man of your dreams doing everything from horseback riding to hot-air ballooning to cooking Thai food.’”

“Great,” Jane mumbled. She kicked off her shoes as she stifled a yawn. “I need to go to bed.”

“Wait. One more,” Caroline said. “How about Love and Lunch? It’s the perfect dating solution for the busy professional.”

Jane slid off the stool. “Afraid I don’t qualify anymore.”

“It’s hard to imagine what it would be like being single again.” Lost in thought, Caroline set the brochures down and placed both hands on the counter. Her face grew serious as she leaned forward. “If I had ten minutes to describe my perfect man—”

Ryan walked into the kitchen. “About six feet tall, brown hair, great body,” he said, sucking in his gut. He flexed his biceps before kissing Caroline on the cheek.

“No.” She made a face. “That’s not how I’d describe him.” She cleared her throat and stood a little taller as if posing in front of a camera. “My idea of a perfect man is one who takes the garbage out every day—without being asked.” She threw a glance in Ryan’s direction. “He also walks the dog whenever it rains, so his wife doesn’t have to, of course.”

“Dream on, woman,” Ryan said as he opened the freezer and took out a carton of ice cream.

“But the best thing about my perfect man is—” Caroline turned around, facing Ryan. She leaned back against the counter, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “That when he takes his clothes off— ”

Jane cleared her throat to let her sister know she was still in the room.

If Caroline heard, she ignored her. She had Ryan’s full attention now, and Jane watched as Caroline beckoned him closer with the crook of her finger. Ryan set the carton of ice cream on the table and walked toward his wife.

“When he has
all
his clothes off,” she continued in a sultry tone as she ran her fingers down his shirt sleeve. “He . . . puts—them—in—the—hamper.”

Jane smothered a laugh as Caroline pinched her fingers together and then opened them as if dropping something.

“Oh yes.” Caroline sighed. “That would be one
amazing
man.” She turned back to the sink, a dreamy look on her face as she picked up the dishcloth and finished wiping down the counter.

Ryan stood behind his wife, scowling. “Just for that, I’m eating the rest of the Tin Roof Sundae.”

“Go for it, dear,” Caroline replied. “Just make sure your bowl ends up in the dishwasher when you’re through.”

“Good night,” Jane called, heading down the hall. She’d heard enough of this kind of banter to know where it was heading. A smile touched her lips. Caroline and Ryan reminded her of the movie
Return to Me
. They were the happy—if not somewhat insane—married couple with kids swarming all around. Jane’s smile faded.
She,
on the other hand, was the single and lonely friend in the movie.

But, Jane reminded herself, by the end of the movie that had changed. The widowed architect had recovered from losing his wife and fallen in love with the heroine—even though she had his wife’s transplanted heart. Jane sighed, remembering the poignant moments of the movie and feeling grateful that at least she didn’t have the
heart
obstacle to overcome. Still, she couldn’t help but hope she’d end up as happy as that. Paul was an architect too. Maybe that was a good sign.

Keeping the light off, Jane tiptoed into the nursery. She leaned over the port-a-crib to check Madison and was surprised to see her bright eyes open, her tiny face looking up expectantly.

“Hello, little princess.” Jane reached over and picked up Madison. She held the little girl against her chest and began swaying slowly in the dark, rubbing her cheek against Maddie’s soft head and inhaling her sweet fragrance.

“Is there a chance, Maddie? I know it’s only a movie, but maybe it
is
possible. Maybe your dad will get well and then . . . Maybe someday he can love me as much as he loved your mom.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

“I can’t believe the difference a coat of paint makes,” Caroline said, standing next to her minivan parked in Jane’s driveway.

“Try
three
coats,” Jane called, walking out of the house, a baby carrier in each hand.

“And the yard—wow.” Caroline looked appreciatively over the front yard of the rental. The junipers were gone, the soil weeded and graded in preparation for sod, and the house had gone from a dull gray to a soft yellow. New white shutters framed the windows.

Jane set the twins, in their car seats, down on the walk and returned to lock the door. “Yeah, now that the monster bushes are gone, it’s not too bad.”

“Not bad—it’s great,” Caroline said. “How did you get all this done so fast?”

“I know a few people with backhoes, and Paul helped too. He watched the twins while I painted, and he even arranged a deal with the landlord. We get a hundred dollars off the rent each month, so long as we send the receipts showing our purchases for improvements on the home.” Jane smiled with satisfaction as she picked up the twins again.

“If only Ryan and I were so motivated.” Caroline shook her head and turned toward the cars. “Can we take my van? I made a last-minute appointment for Andrew. He had a terrible night—I think it’s his ears again.”

“Sorry he’s sick.” Jane stopped to give Caroline a quick hug. “You look beat,” she observed, moving past Caroline to the van’s sliding door.

“Give yourself a couple of months with the two of them.” Caroline nodded to the twins as she opened the van door. “You’ll look the same.”

“I don’t know,” Jane said. “Mark has been home a week now, and it’s not too bad. Paul is pretty helpful.” He was
more
than helpful at night, Jane thought as she lifted Mark’s seat into the van. It seemed each time she went to take her turn giving a middle-of-the-night bottle or diaper change, Paul was already with the twins. And on those few occasions she’d managed to beat him into the nursery, he was always right behind her, offering to take over—since he was up anyway. Jane knew he didn’t sleep at night; what she didn’t know was if the pain keeping him awake was physical or emotional.

She unfastened the seatbelt and pushed Madison’s car seat next to Mark’s. “Doesn’t Ryan take his turn at night with Andrew?”

“No.” Caroline shook her head. “We made a pact. I take care of Andrew, and Ryan handles all the other kids’ nightmares, bed-wetting, and requests for food. Believe me, I have the better deal. ”

“Sounds like it,” Jane said. “There.” She stepped into the van. “We’d better hurry. I don’t want to be late for their first appointment with a new doctor.”

“It won’t matter if you are,” Caroline said with a sigh. “We’ll have to wait anyway.”

* * *

The only seats available were next to the reception desk, so she and Caroline took those after they’d signed in.

“These guys must be good,” Jane mused, looking around the room.

“They are,” Caroline said, snatching up the latest issue of
Parents
magazine. “Otherwise I wouldn’t wait. And they’ve got good magazines. It’s about the only chance I ever have to read.” She pointed eagerly to the potty-training article featured on the front cover. “Just wait. You’ll have to do two at once. You’ll be begging me for advice.”

“I’m sure,” Jane said, more interested at present in the woman across the room who was openly breast-feeding her infant.

“You could, you know,” Caroline said, following Jane’s gaze.

“Could what?”

“Nurse the twins if you wanted to. I read about a shot they give adoptive mothers to start their milk. You should ask Dr. Larsen.”

Jane looked appalled. “No thanks.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I think I’d like to be a part of creating my own baby first.”

“You
should
.”

“Really? Any suggestions?” Jane rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I’m the most eligible female and I’ve got men falling at my feet. I thought I had problems before—just being plain Jane, almost thirty. Now I’m plain Jane who
is
thirty. I’m living next door to a guy who’s got cancer, and soon I’ll be a mom of two special-needs infants. Quite a catch.”

“What about Paul?” Caroline asked.

Jane’s eyebrows rose. “What about him?”

“Maybe he could help you out there.”

“I can’t believe you just said that.” Jane stared at Caroline in disbelief. “First of all, we’re not married. And he’s sick, for heaven’s sake. And even if he wasn’t—well, he’s still mourning his wife. He hasn’t even considered a relationship.”

“Good,” Caroline said, returning to her magazine.

“No, that’s
not
good. What’s wrong with you? You suggest I get cozy with Paul, and then you’re glad we aren’t even dating?”

Caroline tried but couldn’t hide her guilty look. “I told Mom I’d find out how things are going—you know, how friendly you and Paul are these days.”

“I can’t believe this,” Jane said, incredulous. “And from you of all people.”

“Yes, from
me
of all people.” Caroline’s teasing tone was gone. “I told you before—I almost ruined my life. So who better to watch out for you and make certain you don’t ruin yours?”

“But I’m not,” Jane protested.

Caroline touched her sleeve. “I know. And I know you love those babies, but I can’t lose sight of the vision of you kneeling at the temple altar. And we’re all just worried
you’ll
lose sight of it.
That
is what you deserve, Jane. Nothing less. Heavenly Father wants to bless you with everything possible.”

Jane looked away, angered at the sudden sting of tears behind her eyes. “I’m looking for those blessings,” she insisted. “I really am.”

* * *

Appointments finally over, they sat in Caroline’s van, feeding the babies before heading to the store to get the antibiotic for Andrew’s ear infection.

“So what
does
nursing feel like?” Jane asked as she gently nudged the bottle into Madison’s mouth.

“Why do you want to know?” Caroline’s gaze drifted to Maddie. “I’m sorry I teased you earlier. It’s perfectly fine to bottle-feed babies. And just because you didn’t give birth to a child doesn’t mean you can’t be her mother.”

“I’m not worried about that.” Jane leaned around her seat to check on Mark. “But I may never have the experience of being pregnant or nursing a baby, and I kind of want to hear what it’s like.”

“All right,” Caroline said somewhat reluctantly. “But after this I just discuss bed-wetting, temper tantrums, and nightmares. Got it?”

Jane nodded, smiling.

Caroline looked down at Andrew, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Well . . . The first few weeks—month really—are tough. Ryan always says that I have as much liquid come from my eyes as I do from my breasts because I just sit there crying from the pain.”

“Why do you do it then?” Jane asked, perplexed.

“Well, with Jess it was because we were so poor and I knew we could never afford the formula. Ryan had almost three years of college left and there wasn’t a dime to spare, so I just did it. But after that, I realized how great nursing was, and I was glad I hadn’t stopped.”

Jane used a corner of the burp cloth to wipe the milk dribbling down the side of Madison’s chin. “What’s so great about it?”

“Oh, lots of things—being sore and swollen, milk stains on all your clothes, being the only one who can feed the baby in the middle of the night.” Caroline grimaced. “Doesn’t get any better than that.”

Jane laughed. “You could do a formula commercial.”

“I suppose,” Caroline said. She looked down at Andrew, linking her finger through his tiny fist. “But I wouldn’t. You have this baby—you’ve really had him nine-plus months already—but now you get to hold him in your arms, sing to him, look at him. Still, you miss him being inside. As absurd as that sounds, it’s true. By the end of a pregnancy you’re tired of backaches, getting up ten times a night to use the bathroom, wearing tents for shirts—you’re sick to death of all of it—yet you miss feeling that child inside you.”

“So then you nurse him?” Jane asked, trying to piece together her sister’s logic.

“Yes,” Caroline said. “You have this adorable infant, a scrunched-up, seven-pound ball who does nothing but cry and mess his diaper. He can’t use his hands—doesn’t even know he has them. He can barely communicate. He can’t even see you very well. But when you pick him up and put him to your breast . . .” Caroline stopped, carefully placing a finger in Andrew’s mouth, releasing his piranha-like suction.

Before Andrew could cry, she’d kissed him on the cheek and settled him on the other side, where he promptly latched on, sucking contentedly once more. His tiny hand waved in the air a moment, then settled, palm flat, against Caroline’s chest.

Caroline secured her bra, adjusted the blanket covering her, then looked up, her eyes brimming with emotion. “So you put this helpless infant to your breast and immediately he knows what to do. He latches on like it has been done a hundred times before, and your body responds in the most miraculous way, providing what he needs to grow. And then you realize he still needs you. You’re still connected.”

“It sounds wonderful,” Jane said.

Caroline reached out, squeezing her hand. “Hey, you’ll have your own children someday.”

“What if I don’t?” Jane asked.

“You will,” Caroline said. “You’re going to meet someone. I know it.”

“I’ve met him,” Jane said, forlorn.

“Not Paul?” Caroline asked, her brow wrinkled with concern.

Jane said nothing, but nodded, meeting Caroline’s eyes.

“Oh, Jane,” Caroline said, reaching out. “I was afraid of this. You’re not falling for him, are you?”

“I don’t know—I don’t know what it is.” Jane sighed. “But it’s great. For the first time in a
long
time, I’m not lonely. Every morning when I wake up, Paul comes over. We sit at the table, share a grapefruit, read the paper—and not the personals either.” She gave Caroline a wry smile. “And now that Mark is home, Paul and I are together most of the day. We play with the babies or work on the house. At night we take turns making dinner, and after the twins are in bed we play Scrabble or watch TV.” Jane looked at Caroline, trying to make her sister understand what she was saying. “Do you know how
fantastic
it is to have someone to sit next to and share a bowl of popcorn with while you watch the news?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “For years I’d see something on television, or I’d read something in the paper, hear a new song on the radio—
anything
—and I’d have a thought I’d long to share with someone. Now I can. I’ve got Paul, and he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Caroline’s face was sad as she lifted Andrew to her shoulder. “
Scrabble?
And the
news?
Jane, that isn’t love. What you’ve done is fall
out
of loneliness, but that isn’t the same as loving someone. When it’s love, you
know
it. You have this feeling, this take-your-breath-away—”

“Chemistry,” Jane finished for her. “I felt that with Jay, remember? And it seems I also remember you telling me that love involved more than that. It involved friendship. So what—now that I’ve found the friendship, that’s not good enough either?” She turned away, looking out the passenger-side window as she fought back angry tears. “We can’t all find what you and Ryan have.”

“What Ryan and I have takes a lot of work, and I think you can have that—when you meet the right person.” Caroline took a deep breath. “But you’re forgetting one important part of the formula. You need friendship, chemistry,
and
faith. Life is hard, Jane. Don’t make it worse by choosing someone who doesn’t share your faith, who doesn’t know Heavenly Father like you do.”

“I think Paul could learn,” Jane said. “I even think he kind of wants to. He’s asked Mom a few questions while I’ve been at church and she’s over helping with the babies.”

“That’s good,” Caroline said, encouraged.

Jane gave her a sad smile. “I suppose so, except . . .”

Caroline’s brow wrinkled. “What?”

Jane looked up at her. “He wants to know where his wife is now. Every question he’s asked had to do with Tami. He can’t let go of her.”

“Should he have to?” Caroline asked softly. “If Ryan had died a few months ago, would you expect me to be over him?”

“That’s different,” Jane protested. “You’re sealed in the temple. You’re—”

“And if you truly care for Paul, you’ll want him to have those blessings too,” Caroline said. “You’ll want to ease his sadness by teaching him about eternal marriage.”

Jane swallowed the lump in her throat. “That’s asking an awful lot of me, don’t you think?” She tried to smile but couldn’t.

Caroline nodded. “You asked it of yourself the day you moved in next door to him. I’m not saying you’ve made a completely bad decision, Jane. But what you have done is make life much more complicated. Now you need to be careful to not make things worse. Paul is your friend. That’s fine. But if you tangle with the emotions physical intimacy brings, you’ll be even more devastated when . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“You can’t say it either,” Jane accused, setting Madison’s empty bottle aside.

“You’ll be even more devastated when Paul dies,” Caroline said softly. “His cancer
is
terminal.”

“We’re all going to die,” Jane said, angrily wiping a tear away. “Paul may know how, but even he doesn’t know when. He’s already far outlived his doctors’ predictions.”

“That’s great, but—”

“His cancer could still go into remission,” Jane insisted. “He’s on this new combination of drugs, and they’re administered straight into his liver, so he’s not as sick as before. The rest of his body may rally and fight back. And if that happens, then why can’t I love him? Why couldn’t he be the one?”

Caroline bit her lip and continued to rub Andrew’s back. After several seconds she finally spoke. “I hope you’re right. Just—be careful, Jane.”

Jane gave her a wan smile. “I will. Remember this is
me
you’re talking to. The worst I’ve ever done is share a stolen kiss in the hall at work—and look what that got me.”