Dandelion Dreams (14 page)

“Did you tell him about Kai?”

“I told him I found someone, but not that I got married. I didn’t think it would be nice to clobber him with that information. Maybe that can come later.”

“You mean from me?”

“If you’re so inclined. I’m sure he’ll contact you as soon as he gets the letter.”

“I’m sorry for this mess, for making him think you were just on a bender and you’d return to your senses.”

I waved my hand, dismissing Jules’ apology. “How were you to know? How were any of us to know? I should’ve contacted him long before now.”

“Can I change the subject?”

“Please.”

“Luc wants me to come back. Maybe at the end of summer. Is it okay that I’m with him? He told me he had thing for you when you first came here.”

I smiled. “It was fleeting and nonexistent. He’s a good guy, and you’re a better fit for him. You both have the same outlook on life. You get each other. Just makes sense, y’know?”

“You mean that?”

“I do. Without a shadow of a doubt.”

We finished our meals, and when it was time for Jules to leave, Luc loaded her bags into his car and got in to start the engine. Jules hugged Kai goodbye and whispered something in his ear that made him nod solemnly. I opened the passenger door and then put my arms around my oldest friend.

“You better email and call more, or I’ll fly back over here just to kick your ass,” Jules threatened.

“I promise.” As they drove away, Kai and I watched them disappear down the road towards Paris.

“Everything okay?” Kai asked, rubbing a hand across my back.

“I miss her.”

“She’ll be back.”

“I know.”

“We can visit her in New York. Any time you want.”

“You’re so good to me.”

He smiled, but it was sad. “I know what it’s like to have friends that mean the world to you.”

“Things are changing, aren’t they?”

Kai took my hand and squeezed it. “Haven’t they changed already?”

I squeezed back. “Yes. I suppose they have.”

•••

“Happy Birthday, Sage,” Kai whispered. The windows were thrown wide open, and the June country air swirled around the room. After a light supper of fruit, bread and cheese, we had gone to bed but not to sleep. We had stayed awake, laughing and talking, not caring that dawn was close.

I snuggled deeper into his arms, relishing the feel of his warm skin beneath my cheek. “Twenty-seven. Wow.”

“Do you feel old?”

“No. I feel like I’m getting younger. Is that weird?”

“Kind of. You ready for your present?”

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” Kai moved, and I groaned. “Come back.” I heard the bedside table drawer open and the clanking of metal, and then Kai handed me a set of brass keys. Sitting up, I looked at him for an explanation. “What are these for?”

“I bought us a house.”

My eyes widened. “
You bought us a house
—just like that?”

His smile faltered. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“You bought a house? Without even consulting me?” No matter how many times I repeated it, I couldn’t believe it. I shot out of bed and reached for my clothes. “I want to see it. Now.” People didn’t just buy a house on a whim, but Kai was a whim kind of man. I loved that about him—but a house?

Kai didn’t argue. We borrowed Celia’s car and drove in silence for twenty minutes before pulling up in front of a modest stone farmhouse. Most of it was swaddled in darkness.

I strolled to the quaint, red front door and touched the golden lion knocker, curious about my new home. Using my shiny new key, I stepped into the foyer, fumbled for a light switch and watched as the hallway blazed to life.

I ambled through the house, learning it like a lover. Kai followed at a discreet distance, allowing me time. I ran my hands over the whitewashed walls of the living room, noticing the open feel of the home. I went into the modern kitchen and marveled that it didn’t detract from the rustic beauty of the rest of the house. Opening the back door of the kitchen, I saw moonlight glinting off a small lake and watched grass dance in the gentle summer breeze.

I took the spiral stairs to the second floor turret and found a large bay window that overlooked the property. It was the perfect room to write. Writing for me was inevitable now, like taking my next breath. To keep denying it would be to deny myself. Maybe I would get a typewriter, an old one. It would mean more when I finished whatever I decided to create. I would feel like I’d earned it through each punch of a sticky key.

When I came to the master bedroom, I pulled open the French doors and went out onto the balcony, cool predawn air caressing my skin. I sat on the stone floor, stretching my legs out. Kai crouched next to me.

“It’s—”

I held up a hand, willing him silent. We sat in quietude, long enough for our bodies to grow numb, but still we didn’t move.

By the time the sun crept up on the horizon, I had managed to find my voice. “The sky looks different here—it’s golden. No, not golden exactly, butterscotch. And lavender, the color of cotton candy.” I smiled in whimsical thought.

“Sage?”

“It’s perfect.” My voice turned to a muffled whisper. “You didn’t ask me because you knew this house was perfect for us—it’s a dream.”

Moments we hadn’t had yet flashed in my mind. Making love by the fireplace on cold winter nights; Kai standing in the doorway of the nursery while I watched him soothe our child in his arms. And years later, his temples stained gray with age and wisdom as he chased our children around the lake. Would five be too many?

“Do you want kids?” I blurted out.

He looked at me. “I think so, but I never thought much about it.”

“I know we should’ve probably talked about this sooner, long before we got married.”

“I always assumed I would, but it was a vague idea. What about you?”

“I thought I had a lot of living to do before I made that happen. The idea used to terrify me.”

“And now?”

I shrugged.

“I’ll give you anything you want. Making you happy is my reason for living.” He took my hand and brought it to his lips. “Let’s make a baby.”

I inhaled a shaky breath. “We already have—I’m pregnant.”

•••

We drove back to the cottage in silence, the shock of my news infusing the air. It wasn’t until we tumbled back into bed and held each other that he spoke.

“How far along are you?”

“Six weeks.” I sighed.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I wanted to be sure. I didn’t plan this.”

He laughed and laughed until he cried.

“What?” I demanded. “What’s so funny?”

“You and me. Flying by the seat of our pants. Of course this would happen to us.”

“You’re unhappy about it, aren’t you?”

He shook his head, pulling me close, so I couldn’t leave. “No, I’m sorry, darlin’; you misunderstand. Did you plan to marry a man you’d only known for a few months?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Look at our relationship up until this point. Should I really be surprised you’re pregnant?”

“I didn’t trap you, I swear—”

“Oh, is that what you think this about?”

I nodded.

“I know you’d never do something like that.”

I exhaled in relief.

“Things change all the time, Sage.”

I looked up into his eyes; they were soft with emotion though there was nothing soft about him.

His hand touched my belly. “I didn’t think my life could be this full. It all seems possible, now.”

“What does?” I asked.

“Everything.”

•••

We moved into the farmhouse that week. I sat on the bank of our property, my bare feet in the cool water of the lake. Tilting my face up to the sky, I felt the sunbeams mark me. I could already feel my skin turning pink, but I didn’t care. Let the perfect day stain my body.

“You look like a Baroque painting,” Kai said from somewhere behind me. I turned my head and looked over my shoulder at him. He was shirtless, his red brand bright against the fair canvas of his chest.
 
He wore a pair of old khaki shorts and his baseball cap; his hair was long and falling into his eyes, and he hastily brushed it off his forehead.

“What would the title of the painting be?” I asked, as he came and plopped down next to me, sticking his feet into the water and brushing my toes with his.

“
A Content Woman
.”

“Hmmm.” I leaned my head against him. He was warm, familiar, like I had known him before this life. “We are defined by the joys as much as the tragedies.”

“I want to give you so much joy you forget you ever had any tragedy. Fill you with so much light that it shoots out of your fingers and toes.”

“Now, that would be an amazing painting.”

“Maybe we’ll have it commissioned, and we can hang it over the fireplace in the living room.”

“And when our children ask what it means, what will you tell them?”

He pressed a kiss to my collarbone and said, “I will tell them you are my sun and the keeper of the light.”

I sighed. I was a yellow balloon in danger of floating away. “Content doesn’t seem right.”

“No? What then?”

“
A Woman in Joy.
”

“
A Woman in Joy,
” he echoed. “A true masterpiece.”

•••

We were naked on a pallet of blankets in front of the unlit fireplace of the farmhouse. It was early evening, just past twilight. We owned a bed, but I was a bigger fan of the floor at the moment.

“Is this what you had in mind when you saw the house?”

I grinned. “Maybe. I definitely thought we’d be doing this in winter.” Kai’s fingers drew circles on my belly. “I was thinking we could paint the nursery green. None of that pink or blue crap.”

“Green is good.”

“Not mint green—forest green.”

“Sage green?” he teased.

I laughed. “Do you want to find out the sex when it’s time?”

“I already know.”

“Do you?”

“It’s a boy,” Kai stated.

“You seem pretty sure of that fact. What happens if it’s a girl?”

“Then it’s a girl. I’d be happy with that, too.”

“You want a son though, right? Don’t all men want a son? A legacy?”

“Some legacy I am,” he said, bitter resentment coating his tongue.

I touched his arm, but did not placate him with empty words. I doubted he’d listen to them anyway.

Kai sat up and gazed at the mantle. “I think I have to go back.”

I stared at him; his revelation was a hammer on a glass window. “How long have you being thinking about this?”

“Ever since you told me you were pregnant. It changes everything. I can’t look our kid in the eye and tell him I was a coward. I’ve got to go back and deal with things—finally deal with things.”

I’d been dreading and hoping for this moment. How long could we have kept pretending that we were enough for each other? I wanted to tell him I was afraid, that our life wouldn’t be the same after we went to Monteagle, but what did we have if we couldn’t face his past? It would be a labyrinth, hedged with brutal emotions and unspeakable truths, but at least we’d find our way together.

“Okay.” I wished I felt stronger. “We’ll go.”

He leaned over and placed a kiss on my stomach before wrapping his arms around me.

“It’s always something, isn’t it?” I said.

He pulled back, brushing his thumbs across my cheeks. “I think they call this
life
. I have to do this.”

“I know.” There wasn’t just one moment that defined adulthood. Our lives were a series of rebirths. Some of us were born with indomitable spirits that ensured we got up, checked for broken bones and then started again.

He made me proud.

With one arm around me, Kai reached for his cell phone and held it, weighing it in his hand. He took a deep breath and dialed. After a few moments he said simply, “It’s me. I’m coming home.”

Chapter 19

Kai

Sage rested against my shoulder, sound asleep, and I brushed my lips across her forehead. We were somewhere over the Atlantic, and I knew that if I opened the airplane window shade, all I’d see would be darkness and gray clouds.

I felt like I was returning to my own funeral, so heavenly judges could weigh the balance of my life. I wondered if my faults outweighed the good deeds.

Sage made a whimpering sound and twitched before settling down. It’d been a week since we decided to face my family. Celia had put up a fight, telling us that Sage could travel now, but when she was in her third trimester it would be unsafe. I told Celia we’d be back long before then—I didn’t want to linger in Monteagle. My life was in France with Sage, and soon our child, but I had to face my family.

My guilt had been a constant companion, and though I thought I had shut the door on my past, it came at me with a vengeful axe. It would find me no matter where I went. I couldn’t run anymore; I had to stand and accept it. It would be harsh and ugly, but maybe it would give me peace. Maybe it would give everyone peace.

 
Sage finally stirred and awakened. Turning to me, she offered a sleepy smile. It seemed the woman held secrets and mystery in the corners of her mouth—more so than even the Mona Lisa. I didn’t think I’d ever fully understand the quirk of those beautiful lips, even if I had years. And I would have years.
We
would have years. So many.

I wanted to protect her from everything, even myself—and most definitely my parents. I was about to subject Sage to my family—they were like angry bears.
Don’t feed the animals, folks; they aren’t tame!

“Want some water?” I reached up and pressed the flight attendant call button.

Sage nodded. “I cried most of the way to France, you know.”

“I’m crying on the inside,” I drawled. “I wish I didn’t feel compelled to do this.”

“Blasted adulthood.”

“Blasted reevaluation,” I said. The flight attendant came, and I requested a bottle of water.

“Maybe some pretzels?” Sage asked. “Please?”

The woman turned off the call light and left.

“Are you going to tell me the plan, or are we winging it?”