He was standing there, staring at her headstone, hand’s in the pockets of his faded jeans. His T-shirt was wrinkled and hung on him loosely, as though he’d lost weight. A beard covered his jaw and his hair looked like it hadn’t been combed in days. And my heart broke all over again. I was responsible for this. I had done this to him, and now I had to make it right.
I stopped behind him and he was so oblivious, so lost in his own thoughts, that he didn’t know I was there until I touched his arm. When I did, he jumped, then spun to stare at me from red-rimmed eyes. But only for a second.
Before I could form a word, he jerked his gaze away and started to turn. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I’ll go.”
“Nick, wait. Please.”
He stopped, his head lowered, still refusing to look at me.
“I don’t want you to go,” I whispered. “I came here to talk to you.”
“Talk to me? How can you stand to even look at me after what I did to you?”
I moved until I was in front of him, forced him to meet my eyes. “Listen to me, Nick. You didn’t do anything to me. I did it to myself. No one forced me to marry Hugh. No one forced me to turn my grief over Katie’s death into anger and hate. Do you understand? I did it to myself.”
“You were right to hate me. I left you. You were carrying my baby and I left you.” His tone was flat, unemotional.
“I don’t hate you!” I was desperate, yelling in my fear for him. “I wanted to hate you. I even convinced myself that I did. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop loving you. I love you, damn it!”
“Don’t. There’s no way you could love me, and I don’t need your pity.” He backed up a step, but his attention was caught by Katie’s headstone again, and he stopped. “I never got to see her.” His voice was raw with bottled-up pain. “I never got to hold her.”
And suddenly I knew how to get through to him. I had to force him to let go of those emotions choking him. Get them out so they could stop poisoning him. It was something my family should have done for me a long time ago, something that Jenna had finally managed that night we sat in her kitchen and cried together.
Frantically, I dug through my purse until I found my wallet. Once I had it opened, I took out the picture of Katie I kept with me and handed it to Nick. He took it like a man in a trance, his gaze fastened hungrily on her tiny face.
“Let me tell you about Katie,” I said quietly.
And for the next hour, that’s exactly what I did. At some point I became aware that tears were running down his cheeks, and silent sobs shaking his body, but I swallowed my own pain and kept going. When I finished, I took the step that separated us and put my arms around him, knowing that his attention was focused on me intently.
“You were only twenty when you left, Nick. Not much more than a boy. You did what you thought you had to, and that’s the best any of us can do. Katie died from SIDs. Even if you’d been here, there was nothing you or anyone could do to stop it. But you saved the child you could. You saved Daniel, and he’s wonderful. I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me for the way I told you about Katie, but for Daniel’s sake, don’t keep doing this to yourself. He loves and needs you, and he’s scared to death for you.”
Almost reflexively, his arms lifted, went around me so tightly I could hardly breathe. With his face buried in my hair, we both cried. We cried for our child, for the hurt we’d caused each other, and for all the time we’d lost. And when there were no tears left, Nick lifted his head and looked down at me.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“Then come home with me,” I answered.
And he did.
When we reached the tiny house I was renting, he asked where the bathroom was. I pointed him in the right direction and then went to the kitchen. While he showered and shaved, I called Daniel and told him his father was going to be late and not to wait up for him. And then I held the phone away from my ear, smiling at the deafening yell coming across the line.
By the time Nick showed up in the kitchen, cleaner and minus the beard, I had a stack of sandwiches ready. He dug in like he was starved, polishing off almost the entire pile by himself.
Pushing the plate aside, he leaned back in the chair. He still looked tired, but the haggard appearance was fading and his gray eyes were alive again when he looked at me. “Do you have any more pictures?”
Luckily, I did. One of the things I’d brought with me when I moved was an album full of Katie’s pictures. Together, we sat on my bed, backs against the headboard, shoulders touching, as we went through it and talked, just like we’d done when we were kids. When we’d turned the last page, we held each other for a long time, until our need for another kind of solace became overpowering, and then we made love, slowly and sweetly.
It was dawn when Nick turned to me and clasped my hand. “I swear, I’ll never leave you again,” he whispered.
I lifted my other hand to his face, fingers caressing his skin. “It wouldn’t do you any good if you did,” I said. “Because the next time, I’d come after you.”
EPILOGUE
I wish I could tell you that Nick and I were married a week later and lived happily ever after, but I can’t. We loved each other, there’s no doubt about that, but sometimes love isn’t enough. We were two people who had hurt each other beyond words, and things like that aren’t easily fixed. It was a long time before the pain began to ease and we learned to trust each other again, a lot of hard work and even harder talks.
There were other problems, too. All the mistakes we’d made hadn’t only affected us, they had been like a stone thrown into a pool, the ripples continuing long after the rock reached the bottom.
Daniel finally had to be told about the circumstances of his birth before he discovered them from the local gossips. As painful as it was for them, Nick and Lindsey sat him down and told him everything while I waited at home, chewing my nails with fear for all their sakes.
It was late that night when Daniel showed up at my house with a suitcase full of his clothes. I ushered him to the spare room, tucked him in, and then called Nick to let him know his son was safe. For the next month, Daniel lived with me, a silent, pale ghost that took up space but wasn’t really there. I didn’t pressure him to snap out of it because I knew this was something he had to work out on his own. Having gone through something similar with my own father, I could understand what he was feeling.
But Daniel is a smart kid. Eventually he realized that sperm does not a father make. It’s the unconditional love and caring shown by the person who raises you that makes a parent. For me it was the Judge. For Daniel, it was Nick, and the love they had for each other finally overcame the hurt.
With Lindsey, it wasn’t so easy. I think Daniel finally understood why she’d ignored him all those years, and even came to forgive her. But part of him could never really accept her as his mother. The best she could hope for was his friendship, and it was slow in coming.
Cody helped somewhat because Daniel liked and respected him. Cody and Lindsey were married six months after they first met, and you can see how much they love each other just by looking at their faces when they’re in the same room together.
I will admit, it’s rather strange knowing she’s a member of the family now, but I, too, have learned to forgive and forget. We’ll never be best friends after all those years when I hated her, and yet I’ve discovered that Lindsey can be a very sweet, caring person when given the opportunity.
Nick eventually finished building his house, but he didn’t move into it. I continued to live in the little house I’d rented, and for the first time in our lives, Nick and I attempted a normal relationship. We went out to dinner, to the movies and plays, and to all the town celebrations. And together, we began to attend church, something I’d thought I would never do again. Aunt Darla was nearly beside herself with excitement.
Speaking of Aunt Darla, lately she’s been flashing a diamond engagement ring
the size of a hen’s egg. And if flashing it doesn’t get your attention, she’s not above shoving it under your nose. She’s still leading Bowie on a merry chase as far the date of the wedding goes, but the man doesn’t know the meaning of giving up. According to Nick, one side benefit of Bowie’s association with Aunt Darla was that his cooking improved.
I think they’ll have a good, happy life together. Bowie is a vibrant, healthy man who loves working in the garage with Nick and shows no sign of slowing down. And, of course, the only way Aunt Darla will slow down is when they shove her in a box and bury her.
The Judge is fit and fine, still putting out his garden every year. He recovered from the stroke with no lasting damage and takes much better care of himself now. I figure he’ll outlive all of us.
Once I heard him regaling Daniel with tales of the Wowzer cat who lived under the trestle at the railroad tracks. I had to smile at the look of skepticism on Daniel’s face.
Not long after that, my family underwent some shuffling in the arrangement of their living quarters. With Aunt Darla soon to be married and moving in with Bowie, and Aunt Jane practically running Southern Supply single-handedly, it would leave the Judge alone too often. So Mama and Daddy moved back to the farm, and Aunt Jane took over their small brick house. She really likes having a place of her own.
Aunt Jane seems to be happier with her life than I’ve ever seen her. She positively glories in running Southern Supply. I can understand why. After all, I did the same thing. For a long time the business gave me a reason for living, for going on. Now I have other things that furnish me with those reasons, and I’m thrilled to leave most of the business to Aunt Jane.
A year and a half after that evening in the cemetery, almost to the day, Nick called and asked me to meet him at the house he’d built. Since it was already after dark, I was puzzled, but agreed anyway. Any excuse to see Nick was a good one.
I climbed out of the Trooper and paused to let my eyes adjust to the moon’s glow. It was big and round that night, and cast the yard in a silvery-blue sheen of light. I was still standing there when Nick appeared from beneath the dark shadow of a tree.
“Hi,” I said, voice low to keep it from carrying on the cool night air. “What’s up?”
“There’s something I wanted to show you on the back porch.”
I arched a brow as he took my hand and led me across the yard. I’d been to the house hundreds of times, and I couldn’t imagine anything on the porch I hadn’t seen countless times before.
The yard at the side of the house was pitch black, but I could see a flickering glow of light coming from the corner of the building. More puzzled by the second, I stepped into the backyard and came to an abrupt halt.
Candles lined the rail surrounding the porch, the flames casting a golden glow over the area. Even more light adorned a table set carefully with fresh-cut flowers in a silver urn, and a bottle of champagne with two stemmed glasses.
And in front of the bottle sat a shape I would have recognized if I were blind as a bat. It was a tin of bee balm.
I looked up at Nick, my knees suddenly wobbly, and he smiled before leading me up the stairs. “Open it,” he said quietly.
With hands shaking and tears blurring my vision, I lifted the top off the small round can and stared down at the ring nestled on a bed of blue velvet.
His hand moved to my chin, lifted until our gazes met. “Congratulations,” he whispered. “Twenty-six years ago, a feisty little girl, armed only with a tin of bee balm, set out to save a ragged, lonely boy. She succeed so well there’s only one thing left to do. Marry me, Alix. It’s time we filled this house up with love, laughter and a family.”
“Yes,” I choked, crying and laughing and at the same time. I threw myself into his arms. “Oh, yes. It’s way past time.”
Mama was in hog heaven. She finally got to plan that big wedding and took full advantage of the situation, nearly driving everyone crazy with her frantic pace and elaborated schemes. You’d have thought the Queen of England herself was about to tie the knot in Morganville.
I think I finally believed it was really going to happen when Nick slipped away from his bachelor party the night before the wedding and showed up at my door. Smiling, I let him in.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. “You’re supposed to be with the good old boys, watching naked girls jump out of cakes and getting sloshed out of your mind.”
“There’s only one naked girl I want to see,” he said putting his arms around me. “Besides, I have something for you, and I didn’t figure Darla would let me anywhere near you tomorrow morning.”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a box. “I’d like you to wear it for the wedding.”
Curious, I opened the box and immediately started crying. Inside lay half of a heart pendant on a golden chain. Nick’s name and our wedding date were engraved on the back. Soaking his jacket with my weeping, I reached inside his shirt and tugged out the other half.
“Hey, if I’d know we were going to have to man the lifeboats, I wouldn’t have given it to you,” he said, holding me tightly. “Want me to take it back?”
“Over my dead body,” I sobbed as my mouth found his.
The next day, Mama got to see me walk down the isle in a fancy white dress to become one with the most handsome groom in the world, one whose love and pride shone from his eyes as he took my hand in front of the whole town. And we both knew that this time there would be no betting pools. This time it was forever.
Our wedding was magical. Jenna, of course, was my maid of honor, and she also caught the bouquet after the ceremony. To my surprise, when it came time for Nick to toss my garter, he aimed it right at Hugh. Maybe he was hoping Hugh wouldn’t stay single much longer.
I checked to see if Jenna had noticed, but she was pointedly ignoring my ex-husband, and I grinned. Hugh had done a lot of changing over the last few years, but Jenna wasn’t giving an inch until he shook off Helena’s hold on him. From the way he was looking at my best friend, I didn’t think she’d have much longer to wait.
For our honeymoon, Nick and I spent two wonderful weeks in a secluded cabin high in the mountains. On our return, we moved straight into the house he’d built for us, the house he’d built for me.
Two nights later, during a ferocious storm, lightning struck the old barn. Nick and I stood together on the back porch, leaning against each other for support, as we watched the futile attempts of the fire department to put it out. By dawn, there was nothing left but a blackened square filled with partially burnt timber, acrid smoke rising lazily from the ruins.
“We don’t need it anymore,” Nick told me softly. “We have each other.”
“I know,” I replied. But I think both of us felt a deep sense of loss, as though a well-loved old friend had died.
The next day, Daniel moved in with us, and he’s one of my greatest joys. He calls me Mom, hits me up for money and asks my advice about girls. I thank God for him every day.
On his sixteenth birthday, I gave him the keys and title to the old Chevy, happy to have a place for it again. Daniel was ecstatic. Gleefully, and with a raw enthusiasm that made me tired to watch, he tore it apart and rebuilt it from the ground up, adding things that were never meant to be on a car that old. But he was happy, so I was happy. And I lay awake nights praying he didn’t wrap it around a tree.
Nick laughed at my fears and called me a mother hen, but I noticed a few worry lines on his face, too, every time Daniel left in the car.
That was almost a year ago. It doesn’t seem possible that Daniel is sending off for college brochures now. Nick appears resigned to our son’s leaving the nest, and is kind of looking forward to having the house to ourselves. I hope he’s not counting on it too heavily.
Tonight, I sat in the audience at the country club’s banquet room and watched my husband stride confidently to the podium to accept the presidency of the Morganville Chamber of Commerce. Amidst thunderous applause, his gaze met mine acro
ss the room and I could almost hear his thoughts.
He’d finally kept his promise to me. Frank Anderson’s son had become somebody, he’d turned himself into someone I could be proud of.
Now, as I lay in our bed making this last entry in my journal, one hand cradles my stomach where our child is growing under my heart. I know exactly what I’m going to say to him when he comes upstairs to join me.
He always was someone. Because the core of the sweet gum tree never changes. Like Nick, the deep red wood stays true to its nature. Strong, and steady, and pure.
The End
Katherine Allred, The Sweet Gum Tree
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