God's Gift (13 page)

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Authors: Dee Henderson

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: God's Gift
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“I was working on the upstairs guest room today, I’m ready for a good meal.”

“You got the window replaced?”

“Just about. Since we had to open up the wall already to put in the larger window, we decided to go ahead and move some of the electrical wiring, put in more insulation. Another day, and the guest room will be finished.”

“The house is almost done.”

James smiled. “Just needs a woman’s decorative touch,” he agreed.

Rae decided not to touch that comment. They were heading somewhere; she just wasn’t sure how ready she was for the next step. It was hard enough admitting to herself how deeply she had fallen in love with him. That knowledge should be filling her with joy. It was, but it also felt a little scary.

James reached over and gently touched the bottom lip she was biting. “Don’t. We’ve got all the time in the world, Rae. I’m not suggesting anything.”

She stopped the unconscious gesture. “I know, James. It just feels really big sometimes, this relationship.”

He clicked on the right turn signal. “I know what you mean. It’s scary from my side, too.”

She turned to look at him, surprised. “Really?”

“Really. I got a surprise with you, Rae. I wasn’t expect
ing to come back to the States to stay, let alone find you. I like to plan my life, and I wasn’t planning this.”

Rae leaned her head against the seat headrest and smiled. “We’re even, then. I wasn’t expecting to meet you, either.”

James laughed, reached over to pull her hand into his. “Don’t get me wrong, Rae. Now that I’ve found you, I have no intention of letting you go.”

“I think that’s one of the sweetest things you’ve ever said to me.”

He raised their linked hands and kissed the back of her wrist. “Just don’t tell Dave that, he already thinks I’m way too mushy. Lace wants him to follow suit.”

Rae laughed. “I’m sure he told you to be on your best behavior tonight, didn’t he?”

“Why do you think I wanted to get the kiss in before we joined them?”

 

Dave and Lace had not yet arrived at the restaurant, so James and Rae requested their table and went on in to be seated.

The restaurant had subdued lighting, white linen tablecloths, romantic music. “I can’t believe I’ve never been here before,” Rae remarked, accepting the cloth-covered menu.

“It is a really nice place,” James agreed, glancing around.

They agreed on an appetizer plate, went ahead and ordered soft drinks.

“How is Patricia doing?”

“Fine. Eager to have a baby in the house again. She started decorating the nursery this last week.”

“She’s feeling okay?”

James nodded. “Seems to be. She’s still very active.”

“Are you looking forward to having another niece or nephew?”

“Definitely. I used to baby-sit Emily.”

“You did?”

“I like that stage where they are just learning to walk. Every day you would get surprised with the latest hurdle they had mastered. One day she couldn’t walk, and the next day, there she is, on her feet and wobbling across the room. It was great.”

“I like that age with the kids in the nursery, too. They change from being infants to toddlers almost overnight.”

Dave and Lace arrived with apologies for being late, and the conversation shifted to greetings. They looked adorable as a couple, Rae decided, watching as Dave held the chair for Lace, leaned down to whisper something to her. Lace looked flushed, the apologies had been a little overblown. They had probably been stealing a couple moments together before coming into the restaurant. James had apparently reached the same conclusion, because his greetings to Dave were accompanied by a slightly raised eyebrow.

Dave sat down beside Lace. “We got detained,” he said simply, choosing not to go further. “Have you already ordered?”

A trip to the ladies’ room would have to be engineered, Rae decided. Lace was in love. It had her confused, and off balance, but Lace was most certainly in love.

Rae took pity on her and ensured the next ten minutes of conversation were focused on Dave and how the case he was defending was coming along. It put the evening back on the normal casual friendship tone for all of them. They ate dinner talking, laughing together, as four old friends, not as two couples.

It had been a wise move to make. When dinner reached
the dessert stage, Rae felt as if she had finally relaxed. She caught James watching her a few times during the meal, shared a private smile with him, but otherwise the tone stayed in neutral territory.

It was Lace who suggested where they should go dancing, a club that was known for its good blues. The place was typically busy, but not packed on a Friday night. Her suggestion was readily adopted.

Rae indicated she was going to stop at the ladies’ room before they left and Lace joined her.

They were fixing their makeup when Rae finally decided to broach the subject. “What happened before dinner?”

“He wants me to go with him to a dinner party being hosted by one of the firm’s senior partners.”

“That’s big.”

“That’s huge. They don’t like the idea of having a senior partner who is single. That’s the only reason they are throwing the party, to see who Dave will shake out of the woodwork to bring.”

Rae understood. Lace didn’t like being considered a solution to Dave’s problem. Rae was blotting her lipstick when she had a brilliant idea. “Why don’t you accept that job offer from Olsen, Richmond, and Quinn? There is no way Dave would take the member of a rival firm to a party thrown by a senior partner unless he cared more about you than he did about what the other senior partners thought.”

Lace paused, touching up her blush. “That would be devious and underhanded.” She was smiling even as she said it. “I couldn’t do that.”

Rae picked up her clutch bag. “I know you couldn’t. You’re in love. But the thought does makes the situation seem more palatable.”

Lace chuckled. “I think I’ll be more direct. It will cost him that watercolor painting I found at the gallery last week.”

“Bribery works well,” Rae agreed, smiling. Her friend looked good, being in love. It made her eyes glow. Rae wondered if she had the same expression, hoped hers was a little more contained. “Are you glad you came tonight?”

Lace smiled. “Yes. I like having Dave know he has to act like a gentleman. He even brought me flowers.”

 

James made a point of taking hold of Rae’s hand when they reached the club. They walked across the parking lot to join Dave and Lace. He liked holding her hand. She was his date, and he didn’t intend to leave that to anyone’s interpretation. She willingly interlaced her fingers with his.

Dave had his arm around Lace’s waist.

As they opened the door to the club, the music drifted out into the night. Stepping inside was like entering a contained world, the music, the lights, the large group of people, most on the dance floor, some sitting at tables grouped along the walls.

They checked the ladies’ coats, and Dave scanned the room for a table. “Over here.”

James kept his hand on the small of Rae’s back as they followed Dave and Lace through the crowd. It was a beautiful room, decorated in cherry wood, polished gold fixtures, and an abundance of greenery. The tables were packed close together and they stepped to the side several times as waitresses and other guests moved through the same small aisle.

Dave had found a table on the raised-floor platform, near the band. James held Rae’s chair as she took her seat, let his hands gently squeeze her shoulders before pulling out the chair beside her.

“Would anyone like something to drink?” Dave asked, catching the eye of a waitress.

“A ginger ale,” Lace requested, scanning the room to see if she knew anyone present.

“Diet soda,” Rae replied.

“Make it two,” James agreed. “Rae, shall we check out the dance floor?” They could sit and talk or they could dance. James would prefer to dance. She had gone tense as they walked to the table; the fastest way to ease her apprehension was to show her she would do fine.

She wanted to decline, but he held out his hand, smiling, and she conceded, putting her hand in his. “Sure.”

He had yet to figure out what perfume she was wearing, but he liked it. He liked it a lot. She had brushed her long hair back and secured it with a gold clasp, the pattern in the clasp shining under the lights as they walked down to the dance floor.

James paused at the edge of the floor, gently caught both her hands to turn her toward him. She had such a beautiful face. He thought about kissing her but instead simply smiled. “Why don’t you show me what you know?”

His request made her smile, her eyes reflecting her laughter. Her hands rested softly on his shoulders. “I suppose that would be a good place to start,” she agreed demurely.

James settled his hands on her waist with a smile. “Concentrate on where you place those high heels, Rae.”

She chuckled. “Okay, teach me how to dance, I’ll leave you alone.”

James laughed and willingly moved them onto the dance floor.

She fit in his arms, followed his lead, obviously loved to dance, her problem was more a lack of confidence than skill. He solved that problem by keeping her totally distracted.
They managed two songs before he couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss her. “You are doing great.”

He loved her smile.

They spent two hours at the club. It was an evening that James was reluctant to see come to an end, but eventually out of courtesy to Rae—he knew how long her week had been—he suggested they call it an evening.

 

Rae slipped off her shoes as she watched James’s car pull out of her driveway. It had been hard to say good-night. She loved being with him, loved being near him. He had stopped at the front door, kissed her good-night, and quietly said thank-you for a wonderful evening. Rae had echoed his sentiments.

Church Sunday and the chance to sit with him was too far away.

She took off the velvet jacket and the dress with care. It had been the perfect choice for an outfit. She smiled as she took off her makeup. James had liked it.

She was tired, a deep tiredness that had settled on her as James drove her home. She longed for bed and the chance to sleep until her body decided to wake up.

Leo’s picture on her nightstand made her pause. She picked it up, carefully slid off the ribbon and the ring. Her smile in the picture was of a woman in love. She had seen that smile again tonight, a few minutes ago, as she washed off her makeup. She was in love with James. The same kind of love she had felt for Leo.

Her finger gently traced over the glass.

She was ready to move on. The past was behind her.

She thought about it for a moment, then carried the pic
ture with her to the drawer where she kept her mother’s diaries, gently set Leo’s picture there.

The ring. She closed her hand around it, feeling the cool metal, the beautiful diamond; she put the ring with her mother’s wedding ring.

The past was closed.

Chapter Nine

“W
hat’s wrong?”

James instantly masked the pain. He hadn’t heard Rae come back into the room. He had moved to get up from the plush couch and the pain in his hips and knees had brought tears to his eyes. “Nothing. I’ve been sitting too long,” he said, dismissing whatever she had seen.

She handed him the drink she had brought for him. It was a sign of how hard her day had been that in the dim room she didn’t realize he was lying. She dropped down on the couch beside him. He had only a few seconds warning to clench his jaw against the motion. What has seemed mild three hours ago had become agonizing pain now. It was so bad, even holding the glass of soda she had brought him hurt.

They were at Dave’s, the movie paused yet again, this time while Dave answered a call. Rae had arrived late and had been interrupted by six pages during the past two hours. She rested beside him now, her head back, her eyes closed, and he could feel the weariness enveloping her. The
weariness was one reason he was doing his best to shield her from what was happening again, the return of the pain.

“Go home and get some sleep, Rae. You don’t need to be here.” She looked as if she had barely slept in the last three days.

“Dave’s got trust papers being delivered here tonight that I need for tomorrow,” she replied, too weary to open her eyes. “I’m sorry, James. I’m lousy company tonight.”

He gently brushed her hair back from her face. “Rae, quit apologizing for the markets tumbling. I know how hard you’ve been working lately.”

“I’ve never lost so much money so fast in my life. Why Taiwan and China had to go at it this month, of all months…” She struggled to open her eyes. “If I sit here, I’m going to fall asleep, and then I’ll be groggy for the drive home, and end up being a danger to everyone around me. Maybe Dave can bring the papers by my place in the morning.”

“Of course I can,” Dave agreed, coming back into the room. “Go home, Rae. And turn off the pager for six hours. You need some uninterrupted sleep.”

She leveraged herself tiredly to her feet, her hand on James’s arm, leaned over to quietly kiss him good-night. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I need to get some sleep.”

“Go. Drive carefully.”

“It’s two miles. I’ll call when I get home.”

He kissed her back, hating to see the exhaustion in her eyes. “I’ll be waiting for the call.”

Dave walked with her to the door, making arrangements for the morning.

James winced when Dave came back, turned the room lights back up. “Okay, what’s going on? Rae put her hand on your arm for leverage and you went white as a sheet.”

“Quit being a lawyer, Dave, and get me some aspirin.”

He crossed the room. “Can you even get to your feet?”

James laughed, ironically. “Dave, I can’t reach forward to set the glass down right now, my joints are so painful.”

Dave pushed the coffee table back with his foot, took the glass. “What happened?”

James eased himself forward to the edge of the couch, sweat coursing down his forehead. “Something set it off, I don’t know what. A virus, something. Three hours ago it was discomfort, now it’s excruciating.”

“Let’s get you to the hospital.”

James shook his head. “Get me the phone, and that cane you loaned me once before. I know this routine by heart. Whatever the doctor is going to prescribe, I’ve already got at home.”

 

It was agonizing waking up. Agonizing to breathe. Every breath forced his chest muscles to expand, every breath meant pain.

The doorbell had woken him up. He was on the couch. Apart from the fact that the painkillers the doctor prescribed had stopped him in his tracks last night, the stairs were something he had no plans to climb anytime soon.

It took him a very, very long time to walk from the living room to the front door.

Rae.

There was sweat from his journey marking his forehead, and nothing could disguise the white, taut jaw; he was enduring the pain and it showed.

He saw tears fill her eyes.

“You should have told me.”

He had to smile. He had known her response would be
this, but still, knowing it was not the same as experiencing it. It mattered a great deal that she was here, at his place, to check on him in person. She wasn’t at the end of the phone, or at work where she rightfully needed to be right now. “Rae, I’m fine. Go on to work.”

“You always answer the door walking with a cane?”

He leaned against the doorjamb, easing the pain in his spine by finding a solid support to take some of his weight, wanting to invite her inside, but not wanting to endure the walk down the hall.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you. Or at least called you this morning.”

She reached out her hand to touch him, uncertainty making her hesitate before she very gently rested her hand against his forearm. “I am so sorry you’re in pain again.”

She was. It made him ache, knowing he had added to the load she was carrying. He hated the malicious randomness of this disease. “Come here,” James said quietly, reaching for her hand. He drew her a couple steps closer to him. It was difficult, looking at the strain she carried from several nights without sleep, knowing he had added to the weight she carried, seeing the tears. He loved her. He didn’t want to cause this.

He wiped away her tears, then very carefully leaned down to kiss her. “Go on, Rae. I can maneuver around just fine, if a little slower than normal. Go to work. It’s nothing new, nothing I haven’t dealt with before. It’s the same symptoms, the same disease. I will be okay. Come tonight and crash on my couch and see for yourself I’m really going to be okay.”

“You’ll need someone to carry things for you, fix you lunch…”

He grinned.

“Okay, maybe not fix you lunch…but answer the phone, answer the door. I should be here.”

His fingers gently silenced her. “You need to be at work. I need those things to keep me fighting the pain, working to defeat it. Go do what you have to do today, call me occasionally, and when you are honestly finished, not before, come back and keep me company.” He smiled. “I’m not going anywhere today.”

She bit her lip.

“Rae, I promise. I won’t keep any more surprises from you.”

“Is this what a day you would score a one looks like?”

James hesitated. “This is a two, Rae. You’ll know one when you see it.”

“I hope I never do.”

“I hope that, too.” It would scare the daylights out of you if you did….

“Will you page me if you need anything? Anything at all?”

“I will,” he promised softly. “Go to work, beautiful.”

 

She had elected to sit in a chair rather than beside him on the couch. He was exhausted to the point of wanting to collapse, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her to go home. It was seven o’clock and she had arrived only a short time before.

Trust the illness to rob him of even a hug from her. He hated this unnamed disease, he hated it tremendously.

She knew. “I should go, you’re tired.”

“No,” James protested, so that she hesitated as she rose from her seat. “You haven’t told me how your day went yet,” he encouraged.

He could do so little for her, the one thing he could offer was a willingness to listen.

“You don’t need more bad news and I don’t want to think about it.”

“Tell me. If you don’t, you’ll be replaying the day in your dreams.”

Rae sighed. “The total market was down another two percent today. That makes eight percent this week, twelve percent in the last seven trading days. Even companies I thought of as stable are in trouble. And clients are calling, feeling the need to make changes, forcing me to sell positions I would normally have allowed to ride out the correction. A broker got shot today in New York by a client holding big option positions he was going to be forced to cover. It’s becoming that kind of a panic.”

“Are you holding up, Rae?”

“It’s a walk in the park compared to what you’re dealing with.”

“Oh, I don’t know. At least I can clear my schedule to deal with this. Have you been able to clear your weekend to give yourself time to sleep?”

“James, I want to be here. I’ll sleep in, then come over.”

“Not before noon. You need the sleep, Rae.”

She reluctantly nodded. “Noon. I’ll stop somewhere and bring us lunch.”

 

Saturday came. Four days and the pain was still excruciating. James shaved, having to pause frequently because his hand could not grip the razor. He hurt. Every joint, every muscle. He looked in the mirror and hated the fatigue, the pain. He had not been able to sleep, the pain was too intense, and his face showed it. Rae did not need to see him like this.

He could hear his mom downstairs, moving around in the kitchen.

He turned on the faucet, suppressing the pain from his wrists. It was wearing him down. Wearing down his ability to be optimistic about anything. How many times was he going to have to endure flare-ups like this? Each time it happened, his body took longer to recover. Longer to heal.

Was this the time he simply wasn’t going to recover?

He forced himself to move, to ignore the question.

He was not going to let fatigue rob him of his optimism; he was going to recover, he had done it before, and he would do it again. Small step, by small step. He had made it upstairs today. It was progress. He smiled wryly. Just as long as he didn’t fall down the stairs going down.

He was tired of this. Tired of being tired. Tired of being in pain.

It was the last thing he wanted Rae to see.

God, why this? Why now? I don’t understand.

 

He was sitting at the kitchen table, glancing at the paper, eating an iced cinnamon roll his mom had recently taken from the oven, when the doorbell rang. James looked at the cane. His body protested at the thought.

“I’ll get it,” his mom called from the living room. She had been cleaning his house again even though he had a cleaning service that came in each week. James had realized his mom was going to do what she decided to do and nothing would stop her. He had kissed her cheek and let her go to it. He was grateful for the love behind it.

He knew it was Rae. He had told her to come over no earlier than noon and it was now five minutes past the hour. He got to his feet as she entered into the room, ignoring her “Don’t get up.” She had slept in, but not enough for what her body desperately needed. She looked…wiped out.

“How are you?” she asked, stopping close to him, her eyes searching his face.

He leaned forward to gently kiss her. “Better now that you’re here.” He meant it, even if his body ached at the movement.

“Rae, would you like some coffee?” his mom asked. “I’ve got homemade cinnamon rolls, too. Fresh from the oven.”

Rae pulled out a chair beside James at the table. “Both sound wonderful. Thank you.”

James sat down carefully.

“You didn’t get much sleep,” Rae said softly.

James smiled. “Not much. But I don’t think you did, either.”

She grimaced. “No.”

He motioned to the paper. “It sounds like the markets finally had a quiet day yesterday.”

Rae nodded. “Probably the prelude to a bad Monday. There is concern the economic numbers being released Monday morning will prompt a rise in interest rates.”

He studied her face and saw in her eyes the fatigue that went too deep to cover, the exhaustion that made dealing with decisions so difficult you reached the point it didn’t matter anymore. She may have slept in, but stopping had just let the fatigue crash down on her. She ought to be back in bed, sleeping away the entire day.

He hated this disease. She needed someone taking care of her, not the other way around.

His mom brought coffee and the cinnamon rolls, then left them to talk. A few minutes later, James heard vacuuming upstairs.

Rae ate the cinnamon roll slowly, trying to get a conversation started, trying to inject some emotion into her voice, but the exhaustion was too heavy. She would lose her train
of thought and go quiet for increasing amounts of time. Just sitting down had made her body long to sleep.

James pushed himself carefully to his feet, his ankles flaring with pain at the movement. He clenched his jaw and ignored the pain. “Rae, come on. The living room couch beckons.”

She moved with him to the other room. He lowered himself down on the couch, using the armrest to keep the movement slow.

Rae moved toward the chair and James stopped her. “Sit beside me Rae, please.”

She was reluctant to do so, but he didn’t release her hand and didn’t give her much choice. She sat down on the couch beside him. He wanted her to rest, put her head against his shoulder and close her eyes, but she protested she was fine, just a little tired. He looked at her skeptically.

She reached for the television remote. “Which college teams are playing today?”

Discussions of a serious nature were not going to happen today. James reluctantly let the conversation change to basketball.

His ribs hurt where her weight leaned against him. She had been farther away on the couch and he had intentionally maneuvered her closer so she leaned against him and he could put his arm around her. It took twenty minutes, but the pain won the contest of wills. He was at the point of having to ask her to shift away from him when he saw her try to unsuccessfully stifle a yawn. He pulled a couple of throw pillows over. “Rae, stretch out on the couch and get comfortable. I won’t mind if you catnap for a while.”

She turned to look up at him. He could see the fatigue shadowing her eyes. “You don’t mind?”

He tenderly brushed her cheek with his hand. “I don’t mind,” he reassured softly. “Come on, stretch out.”

She moved away from him and the pain in his ribs began to ease. Her shoes landed on top of each other on the floor and she stretched out, using the pillows he offered to rest comfortably against the other end of the sofa. “Thank you, James.”

“Close your eyes and try to get some more sleep,” he whispered.

Within ten minutes he could hear her breathing become steady and low as she slept.

It felt good, it felt right, to have her relaxed with him. He muted the basketball game, then leaned his head back against the cushions, and watched her sleep.

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