Home for Christmas (Willow Park #5) (5 page)

BOOK: Home for Christmas (Willow Park #5)
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She wished he would hug her like that, out in public, as if
embracing her was something he wanted to do.

She pushed the thoughts away, feeling guilty and weak for
even having them.

John looked a lot like Mark. He was about the same height,
although he had blue eyes instead of dark brown, and he always had a few days’
worth of beard, while Mark had been clean-shaven before now. This evening, John
was wearing beat-up jeans and a crew-neck shirt that had seen better days. He
looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

It was entirely possible that was true.

“I came as soon as I could,” John said, releasing his
brother and stepping over to hug Sophie as well. “We were in Egypt.”

John led a crisis response team for a Christian
international relief organization. He travelled all over the world on projects,
and every time she heard from him, he was in a different time zone.

“You didn’t have to come,” Mark said.

John made a face. “That’s just stupid.” He looked at his
brother for a moment, and then his face twisted and he pulled Mark into another
hug. “Shit, I can’t believe you’re back. How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine,” Mark said, straightening up and putting on that
composed face he’d been showing Sophie all this time. “I’m doing just fine.”

“Well, I don’t believe that for a minute, but I’ll take you
any way I can get you.” He looked over at Sophie. “How are you, sweetheart?”
He’d always called Sophie that. At first, it was just to annoy his brother, but
then it got to be a habit. Sophie didn’t mind. She knew it didn’t mean
anything. John just had his own ways.

“I’m doing great.” She slipped her hand around Mark’s arm.
“Did you want to eat dinner with us? We haven’t had anything yet.”

“Yeah. That would be great. I’m starving. I just need to
call Betsy and check on something from our last job.”

Betsy was part of his team. Sophie wasn’t exactly sure what
Betsy’s job description was, but evidently she was John’s right-hand, since he
was always needing to call her or get her to do something for him.

Sophie and Mark waited in the lobby while John stepped away
to make his call.

“He’s called me every week,” Sophie said softly. “No matter
where he was in the world, he always took the time to call and check on me
while you were…while you weren’t here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It meant a lot…to me. That he always thought about
me.”

Mark had a strange, tense look on his face. “I’m glad he
did. I was…I was worried about you. I thought you might need help.”

She sucked in a quick breath, feeling a strange mix of
comfort and defensiveness. “I didn’t need help, but I appreciated the calls. I
did okay. I know I was always kind of…kind of clingy before, but I really did
okay on my own. I never thought I’d be able to do it.”

He was watching her closely, but she couldn’t tell what he
was thinking. She wanted him to be proud of her, but she couldn’t see that
particular emotion on his face.

“I’m really glad you’re home, though,” she added.

“Yeah,” Mark replied, the one word almost a breath.

***

John stayed for almost a week, but
then he had to get back on the job. Mark seemed better when he was around his
brother—more relaxed, more open—so Sophie was sorry to see him go.

She was also kind of disappointed that Mark didn’t act the
same way around her.

The evening after John left, Mark got annoyed with her over
dinner, when she was trying to get him to eat something. He’d hardly eaten
anything since he’d returned, and she knew that wasn’t healthy. So she pushed gently,
hoping he’d eat a bit more.

Instead, he snapped at her, telling her to leave him alone.

She swallowed over the way his words had hurt her.

She had to be patient. She had to be strong. She wasn’t
going to cry because he was having a rough time now that he was back.

The last thing he needed was for her to give him a guilt
trip over his hurting her feelings.

The past week had been very hard. She’d been to endless
meetings and counseling sessions—some of them alone and some with Mark—and
they’d been harder than she’d expected. She came away from them feeling selfish
and weak—like she wasn’t the kind of wife she really should have been, now and
in the past two years. Mark remained tense and guarded, so she wondered if any
of the transition stuff was helping at all.

But it had just been a little more than a week. She couldn’t
expect things to change so quickly.

She was reminding herself of all of this as he was taking a
shower before bed. He was in there for a long time again, as he had been every
night this week. This time she wasn’t going to knock on the door to check on
him.

He just wanted to take a long shower. Nothing was wrong with
that.

She wasn’t looking forward to more sessions the following
day. She missed the bookstore. She missed her friends. She missed Willow Park.

Then she felt guilty again, because she had her husband back
and that was the most important thing.

Mark had left his shirt on the chair near the window, so she
picked it up to move it to the other chair, since she wanted to sit down and
look out at the skyline. She stroked the shirt gently. It was one she’d bought
for him when they’d been dating. He’d been so sweet and fun-loving and teasing
back then.

Finally releasing the shirt, she sat down to send a text to
Abigail, who’d texted earlier to see how everything was going. Sophie made sure
to sound hopeful and encouraged, even though she wasn’t feeling that way this
evening.

She sat staring at her phone for a long time after she sent
the message, praying silently and trying to figure out how she should act, what
Mark most needed from her.

When she heard the door of the bathroom open, she was
startled and jumped to her feet automatically.

Mark came out wearing his pajama pants, his hair and beard
both damp. “What are you doing?” he asked, wrinkling his forehead.

“Nothing. I was just sending a friend a message.” She
smiled. Since she’d gotten up for no particular reason, she went into the
bathroom to pee.

As she was coming out, she heard Mark muttering. Then he
demanded, “What the hell did you do with my shirt?”

Her eyes widened in surprise at his harsh tone. Without
speaking, she went over to the other chair and picked up his shirt. It had been
in plain sight. She hadn’t moved it very far.

Mark was standing near the other chair, shaking visibly. He
snatched the shirt out of her hand.

She stared at him, feeling like she’d just been slapped.

He’d never acted this way before. This wasn’t like him at
all.

Something was wrong with him. Something was deeply wrong
with him. No matter what both of them wanted, he’d been damaged in a way that
had changed him completely, and he might not ever truly come back from it.

This reality was processing in her mind as she stood and
stared at him, and it hit her with such pain and force that she almost choked
on it. Her eyes filled with tears.

Not wanting him to see her reaction, she turned away from
him quickly, strangling on her attempt to control her emotions.

“Shit,” Mark muttered, in a different tone. “I’m sorry,
baby. Please don’t cry.”

She turned around immediately. “I’m not crying. It’s fine.
It’s
fine
.”

He blew out a breath and sat down on the side of the bed,
his shoulders slumping. “It’s not fine. It’s not fine at all.”

She hurried to sit down next to him, putting a hand on his
knee. “It is fine, Mark. I know it’s hard. It’s going to take some time.”

He was shaking his head. “It’s going to take longer than I
thought.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought I would be okay, but I guess I’m not. Not right
away, anyway. The transition is harder than I thought it would be, and I don’t
want to keep hurting you as I try to get myself back together.”

“You’re not hurting—”

“I know I’m hurting you, and it’s not right.” He was staring
down at the floor. “I’m not as strong as I thought I was.”

“Of course, you’re stro—”

He kept talking as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’m willing to go
through whatever they want to put me through here, if it’s going to help me get
over this hump. But it’s not right for you to have to just sit around waiting
for me.”

“I don’t mind wa—”

“Just let me say this.” He didn’t sound mean now—just
resigned and determined both. “I think maybe you should go back to Willow
Park.”

“Wh—” She cut off her own word this time, surprised and
outraged by the idea.

“I know you want to be here for me, but I think we both
might do better if I just get through this stuff first. It’s hard enough for me
to deal with my own issues. It might be easier if that’s all I have to worry
about right now.”

She understood what he was saying. She was just adding more
stress to him right now, since he had to think of her feelings as well as his
own.

It hurt. It hurt a lot. But she made herself think through
her initial response and realize that maybe he had a point.

“They wanted me to do some more sessions.”

“I know. But they’re not mandatory. Do you really think you
need them?”

Sophie had no idea, but she could tell that Mark didn’t want
her to need them, so she said, “Probably not.”

“Okay, then.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered.

He covered her hand on his knee. “I know. But it will just
be for a short time, and then I’ll be over the worst. I’ll be myself again.”

That would be nice. That would be so nice. To not have to
worry at every moment that he was going to completely fall apart on her. To
have her old Mark back again.

“You said you’d do anything I needed, and I really think
this is what I need,” he added.

She didn’t want to do it. Part of her wasn’t sure it was
even for the best. But the weak part of her wondered if it would be easier after
all. And she wasn’t going to take back what she’d told him. If he wanted her to
leave, then she would leave.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll go back to Willow Park, at least for
a week or so, if you really want me to.”

“Thank you.”

She hoped—she prayed—that she was doing the right thing, but
she just didn’t know.

 

Four

 

Three weeks later, there was a knock
on the door at exactly 6:44.

Sophie had been giving the living room furniture one final
dusting, but she quickly threw the paper towel into the trash as she ran to
answer the door.

An attractive blonde in her early thirties stood at the
door, holding a covered platter. “I made cookies!” she announced.

“Fantastic,” Sophie said with a smile, stepping aside to let
the other woman in.

“They’re a little too chewy,” Jessica Duncan added wryly.

Sophie chuckled and took the platter from her. “I’m sure
they’re wonderful. You didn’t have to bring anything.”

“I wanted to. I missed book club last month, when I was
supposed to bring a snack, so this is my way of making it up.” Jessica peered
at the cookies in concern as Sophie set them on the table she’d prepared with
cheese, fruit, and
petits-fours
and pulled the plastic wrap away from
the platter. “I hope they’re okay. Daniel snatched two of them before I could
fight him off. That’s why I’m early. I had to get them out of the house before
any more got eaten.”

Jessica’s husband was pastor of Willow Park Presbyterian,
the church Sophie had been attending for the last year and a half. She’d gotten
to know Jessica through the book club over the last year, and Sophie had always
liked the other woman’s quiet intelligence and unassuming humor.

“It looks like there’s plenty left for us,” Sophie said.
“Daniel is welcome to a couple of cookies.”

“Don’t tell him that,” Jessica said with an amused, slanting
look. “I keep telling him he needs to cut back on the sweets. He’s getting a
dad-belly.”

“He is not.” Sophie visualized Daniel in her mind. He’d
always seemed to be in really good shape, with broad shoulders and a lean body.
“Not Daniel!”

“He is,” Jessica whispered, as if sharing a juicy secret.
She put her finger and thumb together to indicate about an inch. “Just a
little.”

Both of them laughed, and then Sophie said, “But seriously,
he seems to be in great shape. Doesn’t he run?”

“Yes. He actually is in great shape. Much better shape than
me. He runs every morning, even in the winter. He got this running stroller for
Nathan, and he takes him out every morning. It’s actually a huge help to me.
He’s really great. He could have the biggest dad-belly in the history of the
world, and I wouldn’t care at all.”

Sophie could see on Jessica’s face that she really meant the
final words. Sophie understood the feeling. She felt the same about Mark.

Not that Mark was in danger of gaining weight any time soon.
Her good mood at having the women from her monthly book club over this evening
subsided slightly at the thought of how skinny Mark had still looked over
Thanksgiving.

Jessica must have sensed her change in mood. She asked in a
different tone. “But enough about me and Daniel. How is Mark?”

“He’s good,” Sophie said, smiling and feeling more hopeful.
“I think he’s doing pretty well.”

“You went up to see him over Thanksgiving?”

That had just been last week, and Sophie hadn’t seen Jessica
since. “Yes. We had a good time. He seemed a lot more like himself. I think…I
think he’s finally getting over the worst.”

The last few weeks seemed to have lasted forever. Sophie had
gone to D.C. three times to visit with Mark, and each time he appeared to have
improved. The counseling and other support he’d been receiving seemed to have
had good effect. She and Mark had actually had a really good time over
Thanksgiving. They’d gone to eat dinner with Roger and his family, and Mark had
been more relaxed than she’d seen him in ages. He’d even started making jokes.
They hadn’t made love that evening—both of them were really tired—but he’d
kissed her very sweetly before she’d left the next morning.

He was starting to heal. The past month had been good for
him. And pretty soon she would have her husband back. He would be himself
again.

“I’m so glad,” Jessica said. “How long is he going to stay
up in D.C.?”

“He’s supposed to come back on Saturday,” Sophie said, suddenly
feeling encouraged, excited about the thought of having Mark back. She was barely
able to contain her smile at the realization that he would be coming home in
just two more days.

“So you two are going to stay in Willow Park for a while?
He’s not from around here, is he?”

“No. Neither of us are, but we don’t really have a home
right now. He’s from Oregon originally, but his parents died when he was a
teenager, and he was never very close to anyone but his brother, so he doesn’t
seem to have much attachment to that area. Since I gave up our apartment in
D.C., this is the only home we have right now. So we’ll stay here, at least
through the end of the year.”

Jessica’s expression was thoughtful. “Will you move back to
D.C. then? Will the station give him his old job back?”

“Not his old job. It’s not available anymore. But they’ll
give him some sort of job, for sure. We might have to move to New York,
though.” Sophie tried not to sound reluctant, but she hated the idea of living
in New York, and she’d found out over Thanksgiving that it was the best position
available for Mark at the moment.

“When would that happen?”

“I don’t know. I think Mark is just trying to get through
the worst of the adjustments before he thinks seriously about the future. The
station has actually been really great. They’re not rushing him or anything.”

“Maybe he’ll want to do something else entirely.”

“I don’t think so. He says he wants to get back to his old
self—to be who he used to be—so he’ll want to stay in television journalism,
I’m sure.

“So how have
you
been?” Jessica asked, looking at Sophie
closely.

The other woman was perceptive and observant, so Sophie made
sure to keep her face completely natural. The last thing she wanted was anyone
believing she wasn’t completely happy to have Mark back safely. “I’ve been
good. I’ve been good.”

“Oh, I’m so glad. I’ve been praying for you a lot and trying
to imagine how you feel. And I keep thinking it must be hard, being away from
him like this, when he’s finally home.”

“It is. Of course, it is. But I think I was…I was creating
more pressure on him, and I want the best for him.”

“Did they really think it was a good idea for him to be away
from you for so long? I would have thought it might be helpful for some of the
counseling to include you.”

“We did some counseling together that first week.” Sophie looked
down at the carefully arranged table. “And I guess it wasn’t really working for
him. This is what he wanted. I’ve never been in his situation, so I really
don’t know how he feels. I just have to trust him to tell me what he needs.”

“That’s right,” Jessica said quickly, as if she’d realized
that her question had upset Sophie. “That’s all you can do. You’ll have plenty
of time to get used to each other again once he comes home.”

“Right,” Sophie said, cheering up. Just two more days now.
“I know it won’t be easy, but I really think he’s doing better, so it won’t be
quite as hard as it would have been at the beginning.”

Jessica opened her mouth to answer when there was another
knock on the door. It was almost seven now, so the other book club members would
be arriving.

Sophie opened the door to a smiling Abigail, who stepped
inside, saying, “Look who’s here!”

Jessica and Sophie looked as she stepped aside to reveal a
tall, slim, grinning redhead.

“Lydia!” Both Jessica and Sophie exclaimed in unison, recognizing
Abigail’s sister-in-law, who had spent the last six months in India.

“When did you get back?” Jessica demanded, running over to
give the other woman a hug.

“This morning.”

“I can’t believe you came to book club,” Sophie said, taking
her turn to hug Lydia. “Didn’t you want to stay with Gabe and Ellie and then go
to bed early?”

“I slept on the plane and spent all day with Gabe and Ellie.
Book club comes only once a month, and I’ve already missed six of them.” Lydia
was still grinning.

Lydia had married Gabe Alexander a little more than a year
ago, a providential arrangement since both of them were preparing to do mission
work in India. They’d left in the spring, and Gabe had returned a couple of
months ago so his daughter Ellie could start school. Lydia had stayed longer,
although she would stay in Willow Park until the spring. It was a tricky
situation, juggling their family and the work both of them felt called to do,
but evidently they were finding a way to make it work.

Sophie found it encouraging. They loved each other and,
because of that, made the adjustments that were necessary. She was sure that
she and Mark could do the same.

Jessica asked Lydia another question, but Abigail pulled
Sophie aside and asked quietly, “So Mark comes back on Saturday?”

“Yes. Yes!” Sophie was smiling again. “Saturday. I talked to
him this morning.”

“How did he sound?”

“Good. He sounds a lot more natural than he used to. I think
he’s going to be okay.”

“Well, Thomas wants to meet him. When he settles in and
everything, maybe we could all go out to dinner.”

“That would be great.” Sophie smiled. She’d almost forgotten
what it was like to have a husband to take along to dinner with friends. She’d
been alone for a really long time. “I’ll see how he’s doing, and then we can
arrange something.”

“Where is Alice?” Lydia asked, bringing Abigail and Sophie
back into the conversation. “Is she coming tonight?”

“She’s supposed to be.” Sophie looked at the clock and saw
that it was ten after seven. “Maybe she’s just running late.”

“I talked to her this afternoon,” Jessica said. “She’s
definitely planning to come.”

“Here, let me get you all some wine while we wait.” Sophie
poured out glasses for herself, Jessica, and Lydia. She’d bought sparkling
grape juice for Abigail, since she was pregnant. She’d passed the drinks around
when there was a knock on the door. “That must be Alice.”

She ran over to open the door to a small woman—just slightly
taller than she was—with beautiful long wavy brown hair and big eyes.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Alice said.

“Don’t worry about it at all,” Sophie said. “Come on in.”

Jessica ran over to hug Alice, asking, “How are you
feeling?”

“I’m fine. Cara had an ear ache, so Micah is taking her to
the urgent clinic.” At the chorus of worried responses, she added, “I’m sure
she’ll be fine. You know how she gets ear infections. We just always take her
right away now, since they never go away on their own.”

As the others chatted, Sophie poured another glass of wine.
But when she offered it, Alice said softly, “Oh, no, thank you.”

Sophie glanced back at the table. “Do you want some grape
juice?”

“Yes. That would be great.”

Lydia was frowning thoughtfully. “Why aren’t you drinking
wine? Why did Jessica ask you how you’re feeling?”

Abigail and Sophie both gasped as Alice and Jessica traded
guilty looks.

“Are you—” Sophie asked breathlessly.

“Shh.” Alice held her finger to her lips like the librarian
she was. She was obviously brimming with excitement, though. “We’re not telling
people yet. You all can’t say anything.”

There was a lot of laughing and hugging after that, and they
all vowed not to say a word.

Sophie was genuinely happy for Alice and Micah. Their
daughter Cara was Micah’s biological daughter but not Alice’s, and Sophie
suspected that they’d been trying for at least a year to have another baby.

This was cause for celebration, as was Lydia’s return from
India. The other women asked about Mark, acting excited for Sophie too. Of
course, they were excited. They’d all been praying for him now for a long time.

Sophie hoped that, once Saturday came and Mark returned,
she’d be just as happy as they were.

***

An hour and a half later, they’d
done a lot of chatting and eating, and they’d talked about the book for about
twenty minutes.

They were having a debate about the motivations of two of
the characters when there was a knock on the apartment door.

Sophie blinked, trying to process a sound so unexpected. All
of the women in the book club were already here. No one else should be at her
door.

Everyone stopped talking as she got to her feet and walked
to the door. When she looked out through the peephole, she gasped and swung
open the door.

Mark stood on her welcome mat, dressed in jeans and a black
coat, with water dripping from his hair.

“Is it raining?” she asked, quite foolishly.

“Yeah.” He gave her a half-smile.

She was so shocked she was frozen with it, joy, excitement,
and nerves all rushing through her veins with her blood. “I thought you were
coming on Saturday.”

“I came early.” He looked past her shoulder, into the
apartment. “Is that all right?”

“Of course!” She threw herself at him in a tight hug. “Why
didn’t you tell me? I’m so happy to see you.”

He hugged her back, evidently convinced by the sincerity of
her response. “So this is your place?”

“It’s our place now—at least for the time being.” Then she
remembered the other women seated in the living room. “I have some friends over
for book club,” she explained, looking over her shoulder, although she couldn’t
see the living area from where they were standing. “I didn’t know you were
coming.”

“Oh. Okay.”

He didn’t sound terribly excited about the prospect of
company, but who could blame him? He’d come all this way, just to be surrounded
by a bunch of strange women.

Sophie tried to think of how to politely get rid of her guests
as she took Mark’s hand and led him into the apartment.

BOOK: Home for Christmas (Willow Park #5)
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