A Girl's Guide to Moving On (25 page)

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Authors: Debbie Macomber

BOOK: A Girl's Guide to Moving On
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“Not yet but soon.”

Nikolai hesitated, as if he wasn't sure he should ask. “I see you before school?”

After the day I'd had, I was eager to see Nikolai. “I'd like that.”

“I like, too. We meet for dinner before class, okay?”

“Okay.”

We set a time and decided on a small restaurant not far from the Community Center.

By the time I arrived a few hours later, Nikolai was outside waiting. As soon as he saw me, he walked toward me and hugged me close. His eyes held mine and his look was dark and intense.

“Is something wrong?” I asked as we entered the restaurant.

He didn't get a chance to answer before we were led to a table and handed menus.

“Nikolai?” I asked again.

He read the menu. “I embarrassed to tell you.”

“What is it?”

He waited a couple of long moments before he answered. “Mr. Jealousy stayed with me all day.” He planted his hand on his chest. “You in my heart all day I think of you. I know you with Sean and he need you and I feel like I have no compassion. I tell myself I need to be bigger man.”

“Nikolai,” I said, stretching my arm across the table and taking hold of his hand. “You were in my heart all day, too. You.”

“But you were with Sean.”

“Actually, I wasn't. He was in surgery for several hours, so I drove over to the house. I wanted to be sure it was clean for when he got out of the hospital.” I knew I was chattering, but I couldn't seem to stop. “It was a good thing I did, because the house was a dreadful mess. Apparently, his housekeeper didn't work out. He asked me to hire someone for him.”

Nikolai jerked his hand away and his face tightened. “You clean for him?”

“Yes. The house was in terrible shape. I couldn't let Sean come home from the hospital to that filth.”

Nikolai scooted back his chair and started pacing next to the table, his mood brooding and dark. He yanked his splayed fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair and mumbled in his native tongue.

“Nikolai, what is it?” I asked, watching him.

He leaned forward and braced his hands against the back of the chair, his fingers curving around the wood. “This not right. You clean for him is wrong.”

I wouldn't have done it if I didn't think it was necessary for Sean's well-being. I didn't dare let Nikolai know that I'd told the hospital that I was Sean's wife in order to see him before his surgery. If Nikolai found out about that, he'd blow a gasket.

“Nikolai, please don't be upset with me.”

He sat down and covered his face with both hands. I could see he was working hard to hold himself together.

Apparently, what I'd done was akin to serving Sean the bread Nikolai had baked for me.

The waitress chose that moment to come to the table for our order. I hadn't even looked at the menu yet.

“I no eat,” Nikolai muttered.

The truth was I wasn't hungry, either.

The woman left and Nikolai stood. “It not good that I be here right now,” he said as he reached for his coat on the chair next to mine. I need to think.”

I felt dreadful. “I'm sorry,” I whispered. I didn't consider helping Sean by cleaning his house would be a cause for concern, but clearly it was. “Will I see you at school?” I asked.

Nikolai hesitated and then nodded. “I see you then and try to forget you like maid for this man who no loves you.”

Thanksgiving Day was a blast. I arrived at Cassie's and Steve's late Wednesday afternoon with Owen and Kaylene. I really hated leaving Rocco behind, but he'd be joining us Saturday morning in time for the wedding later that afternoon. I felt mildly guilty about him spending the holiday working and alone, but he insisted. We texted back and forth all day.

Me: Miss you.

Rocco: A man's got to do what a man's got to do.

Me: Turkey is yummy, best stuffing ever.

Rocco: UR an evil woman.

Me: Take that back. I saved you some.

Rocco: Got anything else for me?

Me: Pecan pie?

Rocco: I was thinking of something more personal.

Me: Like?

Rocco: Better delivered in person than texted.

Me: Can hardly wait.

Rocco: Grrrrrr.

Smiling to myself, I tucked my phone back inside my apron pocket and brought down the dishes to set the table with the help of Kaylene and Amiee. The girls were getting along great. I could hear them chattering away; they'd been up half the night talking. Cassie and I were in the kitchen cooking at eight Thanksgiving morning and dinner was on the table by three.

My parents died within a short time of each other. Basically, Mom was lost without my father and didn't feel she had anything to live for any longer. It was hard to lose them both so quickly.

Although it'd been several years now that they were gone, it seemed they were with us this Thanksgiving. It was the first one I'd spent with Cassie since I was thirteen. Together we cooked the recipes from our childhood, ones handed down from our mother and grandmothers.

After the meal we leaned back in our chairs, stuffed and happy. When we were children we would go around the table, each one mentioning something we were most grateful for that year. It was so nice to do that again, especially when we had all been so blessed.

It'd been a hard year for me with the divorce and all. I'd learned a lot about myself. I was much stronger emotionally than I realized. Of course I'd had help, mainly Leanne and the guide we'd created. As the youngest in my family, I'd been spoiled, and after I'd married Jake he'd pampered me. This was the year I'd learned to pull myself up and wear my big-girl panties. It hadn't been easy. I hadn't quite decided which one thing I was most grateful for when it became Kaylene's turn.

“I'm most grateful for Nichole,” she said, surprising me. “And not because she helped me buy a dress and gave my dad dancing lessons, although that was way cool. I'm grateful to her because she makes my dad happy. He whistles now and he never used to.” She blushed and looked over to Amiee.

Amiee looked around the table as a slow grin came into play. “I'm grateful for Kentucky Fried Chicken.”

“Amiee,” Cassie protested.

“Just kidding, Mom,” she said, giggling. “I'm grateful for my cousins and for new friends.” She looked at Kaylene. “Just think, if your dad marries my aunt Nichole, we would be cousins.”

“Cool,” Kaylene whispered.

“Nichole,” Cassie said, looking at me. She sat next to Steve and the two held hands. I watched as Steve brought her hand to his lips for a kiss.

“My turn,” I said. “I'm grateful to be surrounded by the people I love, who have encouraged and supported me through this last year. I am blessed.”

“And loved,” Cassie added.

—

We all helped with the cleanup. The girls cleared off the table and Cassie put away the leftovers while I stacked the dishes in the dishwasher. Owen tried to help, but he removed the silverware from the dishwasher as fast as I could place it inside. Steve shooed everyone out and washed the serving dishes by hand.

Once cleanup was finished we collapsed in front of the television. The kids were in another room watching a movie. Owen went with the girls, who thought he was adorable. Steve wanted to catch a football game, and that was fine with Cassie and me. Cassie was more interested in taking a nap, and I wouldn't have minded that myself. Steve took the recliner and Cassie was at one end of the sofa and I was at the other. We used to share a sofa like this when we were kids.

My phone pinged and I looked to find a text from Rocco.

Rocco: Kaylene said dinner was great and she enjoyed the sharing time.

Me: Do I make you happy?

Rocco: Is that what she said?

Me: Yup. Do I?

Rocco: More than you know.

Me: You make me happy, too.

Rocco: Good to know.

Me: I so wish you were here.

Rocco: Me, too, baby. Me, too.

—

Friday was a blur as Cassie and I got ready for the rehearsal dinner. Karen and her family arrived midafternoon and the rest of the day was spent with kids running wild in happy chaos. The dinner went off beautifully at a hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant in downtown Kent that was Cassie and Steve's favorite. They rented out the entire place to the wedding party and friends. The margaritas flowed freely and there was music, singing, laughter, and good-natured razzing. The owners joined in. By the time the evening was over I was more than a little tipsy.

As soon as I got to the house I texted Rocco, who was leaving first thing in the morning.

Me: heLLo.

Rocco: Dinner party over?

Me: YuP n bed R now.

Rocco: How many margaritas did U have?

Me: dONT now.

Me: NOW.

Me: Know. Friggin spell check.

Rocco: You're killing me, babe.

Me: ?

Rocco: Will be there in the morning.

Me: Hurry.

Rocco: Damn. Wish I was there now. Hate to miss seeing you tipsy.

Me: WiLL REpete 4 U.

—

Saturday morning, I woke slightly hungover but happy. By ten Karen, Cassie, Kaylene, Amiee, and I headed to the hair salon where Cassie worked as a stylist. The girls in the shop had basically closed it down for the day in order to get us ready for the wedding. Our hair was washed, dried, and whipped into shape. We got manicures and pedicures and facials. By the time we got out of the salon we'd been poked, plucked, and painted. I'd never laughed so hard in my life as I did with Cassie's coworkers, who were thoroughly delightful. They would attend the wedding, too.

I was anxious to get back to Steve's house because I'd gotten a text that told me Rocco had arrived. Steve had entertained him while we were away. When we burst in the door, Steve and Rocco were sitting in front of the television, drinking beer and watching yet another football game. Steve appeared relaxed and at ease, and so did Rocco.

As soon as the door opened, Rocco twisted around, and when he saw me, he set aside his beer bottle. He came out of the chair and walked toward me, wrapping his arm around my waist. Then he nearly bent me in half backward with his kiss. It was hungry, demanding, and told me exactly how much he'd missed me.

When he lifted his head, I gasped for air. If he'd hadn't kept his arm about me I was convinced I'd have dropped unceremoniously onto the carpet.

“Damn,” Steve said, saluting Rocco with his beer bottle. “You could get a woman pregnant with a kiss like that.”

Rocco chuckled. “Maybe so, but I prefer the old-fashioned way.”

Steve laughed.

With Rocco's help I straightened and drew in a stabilizing breath. “I see you and Steve are bonding.”

“Yeah. He found the dinner plate you'd put aside for me. Like you promised, best stuffing ever.”

“I'll make it for Christmas,” I said, and then frowned. “Please don't tell me you have to work Christmas?”

He shrugged. “It's negotiable.”

Other than that brief five minutes, I didn't see Rocco again until I walked down the church aisle. Rocco stood at the end of a pew, dressed in his suit and tie. I have to say he looked hot enough to set the building on fire. I nearly stumbled when I saw him. His eyes were intense as his gaze met mine. I walked past him and stood at the altar with my sister, and Amiee served as the maid of honor.

Cassie was a gorgeous bride. I'd never seen her look more beautiful. I had felt Mom and Dad's presence on Thanksgiving Day, but I felt them even stronger here in the church as Cassie pledged her life to Steve. My sister wore the beautiful cameo that had once belonged to our grandmother.

Dad had always intended for her to have it and it was understood she would wear it on her wedding day. When she'd run away and married Duke, we didn't hear from her for years, never knowing where she was. We assumed she wanted nothing more to do with our family. Years later Dad gave me the cameo, but in my heart it had always belonged to Cassie.

When we reconnected I saw how difficult her life had been with Duke. I realized what grit and courage it'd taken for Cassie to find her way home. I didn't feel I could keep the cameo, and I returned it to her. I know Dad would have been proud to see her wear it on the day she married Steve.

As Steve and Cassie exchanged their vows, I had the almost irrepressible urge to turn and look at Rocco. Steve's voice rang strong and clear with no hesitation, full of love. Cassie answered with the same heartfelt conviction. These were two people, deeply in love, pledging to cherish and honor each other for the rest of their lives.

The church held fewer than fifty people, as Cassie and Steve wanted only their closest friends and family for the actual ceremony.

The dinner and reception that followed were a completely different story. The reception was held in a hotel ballroom. Steve had spared no expense. The men and women who worked for Steve were there, along with large numbers of close friends from Habitat for Humanity. It was through this organization that Cassie had met Steve.

I knew Cassie had made a number of good friends through Habitat. I could see how deeply my sister was loved and admired. I admired her, too, and realized my middle sister had more gumption and courage than anyone I would ever know. Mom and Dad would have been so proud of her.

Karen must have been thinking the same thing, because our eyes met and I noticed hers, like mine, were shining with unshed tears. I struggled to hold back the emotion.

Rocco sat next to me at dinner, and Kaylene and Owen were on the other side of me. Rocco reached for my hand, gently wrapping his fingers around mine.

“That was the most beautiful wedding I've ever been to,” he said.

I leaned toward him and whispered back, “As I recall, this is the only wedding you've ever been to.”

“I'm not going to another.”

My face fell with disappointment. “You're not?”

“I don't think he should, either,” Kaylene said from the other side of me.

“Kaylene,” Rocco warned, glaring at his daughter.

“He cried like a baby,” Kaylene told me, lowering her voice. “It was awful to see my dad sobbing through the wedding.”

“I was not sobbing,” Rocco insisted righteously. “I teared up. Nothing more. Just a little emotional is all.”

I squeezed Rocco's hand. We intertwined our fingers and held on to each other through the entire meal. When the dancing started I looked over at him, hoping he'd take the hint.

“You going to dance with Nichole?” Kaylene asked her dad.

Rocco looked uncomfortable. “If I don't have a choice.”

“Dad. That was a terrible thing to say.”

“If you recall,” I took delight in reminding him, “the first time we kissed was when we were dancing.”

His eyes brightened and he scooted back his chair. “All right, let's shake some booty.”

I didn't bother to hide my amusement. By the time we reached the dance floor the area was crowded and it was easy to blend in with the others. Rocco tucked his arms around me, knitting his hands at the small of my back, and I placed mine around his neck. I loved being this close to him.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look?” he asked me softly, his eyes full of warmth.

I smiled. “About a dozen times, but don't worry, I won't grow tired of you saying it.” He looked mighty fine himself. I saw a number of women looking at me with envy. What I loved, what made me want to kiss this man senseless, was that he didn't notice a single one of them. He had eyes only for me. Every other woman at this party faded into the background. He didn't even seem to notice. Just knowing that made me want to spend the rest of my life with him.

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