Unforgiven (12 page)

What was he going to say? Was he expecting the nurse he hired to sit up here all day with her? She hoped not. Although she liked Nola, she needed to look after herself. She had struggled to bathe and dress herself for weeks, and she’d be dammed if anyone would treat her like a child incapable of tending to her personal needs. It was degrading, that’s what it was. She wouldn’t have come home if that were the case. Maybe Rodney needed to understand that.

“Rodney, my love.” She reached up and patted his cheek, taking in her wrinkled hand and the dull gold band still on her finger, the same one she’d worn for almost forty-five years from the day Rodney had slipped it on her finger. She didn’t think she could get it off now even if she wanted to. “Stop worrying so much. I’m home, and I don’t need Nola hovering over me as if I’m going to fall at any moment. This change…” She took in the newly renovated bedroom and the sheer curtains that fluttered when a breeze swept in. “It’s lovely. Now let’s go.”

When she slipped her hand on his arm, he gave her a look as if he didn’t quite believe her, but at least this time he started walking with her to the door. His hand latched over hers to hold her to him.

“So tell me, when are all my children arriving?” she asked. They made it to the top of the stairs, and she focused on the circular stone steps. At one time, she’d loved the deep orange tile, but going up and down these stairs now was better than an aerobics workout at the nearest gym.

“Surprise!”

She nearly dropped her cane at the chorus of voices, looking down into the open foyer where her grown boys, their wives, and her seven grandkids were waiting. “You’re here already! Oh, this is wonderful.”

One, two, three—she counted them again: Brad, Jed, and Neil with Cat sitting on his shoulders. Her daughter-in-laws, Emily, Diana, and Candy, stood with their husbands, each with an eye on their children, her grandkids. There was something about each one of them, something in their tired, distracted expressions, that Becky recognized all too well. Each woman was holding on to something.

“L
ike I told your father, I’m fine. Stop hovering,” Becky said. Neil had to be the worst of her children when it came to worrying about her. Not that Brad and Jed hadn’t done their share. Her children, her boys, were strong and good looking, just like their father in their own ways, but each as different as the next. At least Neil had started to relax somewhat. She could see this in the way he dressed. He had swapped out the tailored suits he always wore for black cargo shorts today, and his shirt and tie were also gone.

She hadn’t seen him dressed up in so long. Even when he’d visited her at rehab, she often saw him in a plain cotton shirt or a simple plain T-shirt. Even his neatly shaven look and short dark hair had changed to a longer style, just brushing his ears, and a five o’clock shadow. It was a look she’d never seen on Neil before. No, it was more like Jed, her youngest, the one who’d insisted on going out on his own and making his own way without any help from his family. He was independent, stubborn. She’d almost lost him.

“I just don’t want you to push yourself too hard.” He was standing in front of her, looking down on her, his hands on his slim hips.

Becky sat in the easy chair, the leather rustling when she moved. The living room was impressive. She’d almost forgotten how much she loved this room, with its high ceiling, stone fireplace, shades of brown that were almost orange, windows that filled it with light, and the plants that gave it so much life. She squeezed her cane and rested it against the oak side table, the corners of which she suddenly realized weren’t suitable for her grandkids.

“Mom, did you hear me?” Neil was still there, and Becky took a breath and glanced up at him.

“Sit down, Neil. I’m not deaf. I’m wondering if you’ve considered replacing the tables in here.”

He seemed at a loss as he stared at her, taking a slow, measured look around as if he couldn’t understand what she was talking about.

“Your mom is talking about baby proofing, Neil.” Candy, his wife, had perfect curves and gorgeous long dark hair. She, too, was barefoot, wearing black shorts and a floral tank top as she carried their six-month-old baby boy, Michael, who would be crawling soon—and then pulling himself up on the coffee table and falling against one of those sharp corners... No, those tables had to go.

“Baby proofing, why do we need to worry about that now?” Neil leaned down and kissed Candy as she passed him Michael, who was kicking his legs and giggling. Neil raised him above his head and gave him a noisy kiss on his cheek before cuddling him. Becky could see how Neil’s son was kicking his legs, bouncing on his hip. Michel would probably be walking before he was a year old.

“How are you feeling, Becky? Can I get you anything?” Candy leaned down and rubbed her arm. Her soft brown eyes were filled with blooming confidence. It seemed, as the days passed, that the terrified young woman who didn’t know how to fit in to their world or be Neil’s wife was coming into herself.

“You don’t need to wait on me, either, Candy. Where is everyone?” She could hear voices coming from the kitchen and others maybe from outside. It seemed quiet in here with just Neil and Candy. She noticed the exchanged glance between husband and wife. Obviously, something was going on.

“Everyone is out back, and I don’t mind waiting on you,” Candy said. “This is your first time home since the stroke. We just don’t want you to overdo it or to be overwhelmed.” She glanced at Neil again.

Becky knew something had been discussed, and someone needed to fill her in. “Overwhelmed? Good grief. How could I be overwhelmed being home and with my family? I’m certainly not going to overdo it. I worked hard to get back here, to do for myself, and I won’t be treated like an invalid, either. I know my limits. Now where is the rest of my family? They flew all this way and then scattered as soon as I made it down the stairs. They barely said hi.”

But that wasn’t entirely true. She hadn’t missed how Brad, Neil, and Jed hovered on the steps, waiting to catch her if she fell. All eyes had been on her as she walked with her cane, one hand on Rodney’s arm as he led her through the foyer and down the two steps into the sunken living room.

“Dad said he didn’t want you getting overwhelmed, that you’d just gotten home and asked for everyone to go outside and give you some space,” Neil said. He looked to Candy again. “I think Jed and Brad are in the pool with the kids.”

The pool had been used less and less since the storm. Maybe she’d get back into swimming, too. That would certainly help along with her physical therapy.

She noticed how different Candy and Neil were with each other now. It seemed as if there was something solid where there hadn’t been before. What was it about them that appeared stronger, closer? Before her stroke, she’d worried about whether Candy and Neil would make it. They had been so unsuited at one time. The deception, what Neil had done with that surrogate, lying to Candy when Michael was really his…Becky had wanted to say something to the two of them, take them aside, but her better sense had kicked in. This was their fight, and only they could work it out, just like she and Rodney had.

“Well, you tell your dad that I don’t need anyone keeping my family away from me. Or maybe I need to go outside and tell him myself.” She reached for her cane and started to get up, determined to put an end to this nonsense. The last thing she wanted was anyone, especially her husband, treating her as an invalid.

“No, Mom, stay there.” Neil sounded almost frantic, and she could see that pushing him wasn’t going to get him to stop worrying about her. “I’ll go talk to Dad.” He gave Candy a look, and she nodded, her expression guarded as if she understood his concern. He left with their baby.

“So what is that about?” Becky asked her daughter-in-law, who was still standing beside her. She gestured to the sofa. “Sit down, Candy. You’re making me crane my neck to look all the way up at you.”

“Sure,” Candy replied. She curled her legs under her on the sofa, leaning on the arm, and smiled over at Becky.

“You and I haven’t had much of a chance to talk.”

Candy lowered her hand and smoothed her palm over the floral pattern on the cushions. Becky knew she loved the colors, the cherry red with green leaves and the cream background. It really added something to this room. “We were so worried about you.”

“And I was worried about you and my son,” Becky said, wondering when the best time would be to talk to Candy, woman to woman, about where she and Neil were as a couple.

Candy looked up, and for a moment there was surprise in her expression before she glanced over her shoulder to the doorway. “We’re good. You don’t need to worry about us.”

Becky sighed. “I stayed out of it even though I wanted to sit you both down and talk to you…before the stroke. Afterward, it was so frustrating having to rely on Rodney. So much of what I wanted to say, I couldn’t get the words out. But you two now seem happy, maybe content?”

Becky knew, by the way Candy was looking at her, that she was remembering the secret Rodney had shared, her indiscretion at a time when she believed nothing would ever work out.

“Yes, I suppose you and Rodney gave me a lot to think about,” she replied. “I could see past my own hurt after that. I love Neil, and that will never change. I just never expected…I don’t know, Becky. Hearing about your troubles when you were young, about how you and Rodney made that choice to make it work and find a way to stay together, it helped. When your dad threatened to take you and the kids away if Rodney couldn’t make him understand all the ways he loved you…I can’t imagine the heartache you were both suffering at that time. You’re so strong, and listening to Rodney tell me your story shook me up and made me really think about Neil and our family. I actually sat down and made a list myself.”

“Oh, really? That sounds good. It is, isn’t it?”

“Well, it made me really think. Neil is such a wonderful man. He was my everything until I got that letter from the surrogate and found out that Michael was actually his. My trust was destroyed. How can you rebuild after that? I didn’t think it was possible to ever trust him again, and that hurt more than anything.”

“And you do now?” She hoped she was right. Candy wasn’t acting like a woman on her way out the door. Becky hoped not, anyway.

She shrugged. “He saved me when the storm swept in, and he stayed by my side. He’s just that kind of man. Where I’m scared at times, he’s confident. He loves our children, and after coming around about Cat, falling in love with our sweet little girl, he’d move heaven and earth for her. He’ll be there for me no matter what. It may not always have been this way, but he’s given up so much of himself and what he’s loved for me, without me asking him. One of the hardest things for Neil is caring enough about what I think and feel to share with me before decisions are made, but he’s really trying. I’m glad Rodney shared your story with me.”

“No one else knows in the family, Candy. Rodney shared that with you because we knew you had one foot out the door. It was all he could think of at the time to make you stop and consider.”

“You never told Neil?” Candy asked.

She shook her head. “No one knows. It was something I swore I’d never speak of, and I knew Rodney would never want anyone knowing. The boys wouldn’t understand, and I couldn’t bear them thinking poorly of me.”

Candy started to shake her head as if to argue the point.

“No, Candy, we all do things when we’re young and stupid, and even though people can be well meaning and sympathetic, we all have a little something that we shouldn’t share with others. People judge because that’s easier than looking yourself in the mirror and seeing everything you’ve messed up in your own life. Oh, I know you want to argue with me that Neil would understand, and maybe he would. But maybe he wouldn’t. I don’t want to see that in his eyes, the question that would always be there: How could I have done something so horrible?”

Maybe Candy understood, as she nodded.

“You love him,” Becky said.

“Yes, more than I thought it was possible to love a man.” She was tracing a tiny leaf etched in the fabric of the arm of the sofa. “I worry, though.”

Candy didn’t have to look up for Becky to realize there were tears misting in her eyes. She could see the stubbornness in her daughter-in-law as she blew out her breath. Candy was clearly determined not to cry after all she’d been through, losing her home and any chance of carrying a child herself, then Neil’s lie that had nearly destroyed everything between them.

“What are you worried about?” Becky said.

“This may sound silly to you, but everything is so good, almost perfect, between me and Neil. He listens to me now. He hears me. I feel for the first time that we’re in a marriage together, like a real partnership, and I know he loves me. With Cat and Michael, he loves them so much. He’s an amazing father.” She stopped talking and was biting her lower lip.

“You’re worried that it could be too good to be true and that something is going to come out of nowhere and rip the ground right out from beneath your feet.”

Candy glanced up fast, and her eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh, Candy, I understand better than you think. It’s not foolish to have those thoughts, but take my advice. If you spend your time worrying that something is going to go wrong, then you can’t enjoy the special moments you have now.”

There were footsteps and voices in the hallway, and Becky could see Candy considering. Their time to talk would have to wait, though, as she was surrounded by her grandkids wrapped in towels and dripping from the pool.

“M
om, please sit down,” Jed said. He wasn’t used to the heat, even this late in the day, with the sun setting in the sky, and he shook his head. His mother had been on death’s doorstep three months earlier and was pushing herself harder than he liked. It was a miracle she was walking, talking, and the thought of Becky Friessen no longer being around scared him more than he could admit to anyone, even himself.