Holiday Homecoming (14 page)

No. She'd been there once. Allison's death had brought Mom to her knees in despair. Broken Dad's spirit for good. And it was all Kristin could do at the time to keep going through life with the grief. Taking her exams and the SAT she'd already paid and signed up for. Cooking meals that no one would eat, because her mom couldn't. Of trying to hold on to the broken pieces of her life, her heart, her family.

It had taken years before she'd been on an even keel again, before Mom came out of her dark depression and Dad began to talk a little, even if he spent most of his time in the fields or in his workshop.

Grief took a hard toll. Kristin only had to look at her mom to see the cost. The woman who'd been so vibrant and bustling and humming everywhere she went. It was as if a light had forever died inside her.

The cafeteria wasn't crowded and she took her time making up a tray of tea and coffee for everyone. Chai tea for Kendra, chamomile for Kirby, mint for Karen. Coffee with sweeteners and black tea with honey for the brothers-in-law. She didn't know them well enough to know what they would want. For Mom she waited for
the apron-clad girl behind the counter to whip up a mochaccino. It helped to do this, something normal, something useful. But she couldn't forget her thoughts completely.

The kiss.
That's the way she was going to think about it forever. Her first real kiss. Wow, and she hadn't even wanted it. If only she could erase it from her memory entirely. She wished she could hit the rewind button on her life and do that one moment over when he cupped her face with his amazing hands and claimed not just her mouth, but her heart and soul. How could a simple brush of lips be everything? The past, present and future all in one moment?

Stop thinking about it. That's what she had to do. Figure out a way to blot it from her mind.
The kiss
was never going to happen again.
The kiss
was a single aberration in her life centered around quiet, sensible choices and a serious work ethic. Before
the kiss,
she was a person who balanced her checkbook, set aside savings every month, paid her mortgage before the due date and was in bed by ten every night. She wore sensible shoes and a wild night out on the town was dinner with her cousin at their favorite burger place.

And she intended to be exactly the same person after
the kiss
. It wasn't a life-changing moment. It wasn't a soul-shattering experience. It was
never
going to happen again.

Because if it did, then the power of it would shatter everything she'd spent her life building. It would unbal
ance her carefully ordered world. It would make her want something she could never put her faith in—love.

By the time she made it back to the waiting area, the rest of the family had arrived. Karen with her husband Zach and their daughters. Gramma was reading Allie her favorite picture book.

Allie had changed, too. She'd grown taller and willowy, the toddler softness gone. Her shoulder-length straight hair shimmered like sunlight on the finest gold. She chattered away to Gramma; having the story memorized, she took over the telling. A preschooler.

Dad appeared around the corner, leaning a bit to the left where Emily held his hand tightly as she skipped on her pink strappy sandals. A toddler now. He looked younger, happier, in the company of his granddaughter.

He spotted the drink carriers. “There's my girl. You wouldn't happen to have a black coffee in there for me?”

“The biggest one is for you, right there in the corner.” Kristin balanced the eggboard carrier while her dad helped himself to the large-size cup.

Dad seemed better. He kept his distance from Mom, but at least he looked content, almost like his old self as he led Emily to the play area in the corner. Together, Granddad and granddaughter constructed a house of blocks, which Michael and his truck crashed into with appropriate sound effects.

“Kristin, see what you're missing.” Gramma winked over the top of Allie's blond head. “Life without love
is just existing. Life without family is like being lost on an island. Life passes a person right on by and keeps going.”

She'd take the island any day.

Except right now, at this moment, as she handed out the drinks, she couldn't deny the horrible pain stabbing her directly in the heart. A pain that felt like grief. Not over her sister's death, she realized.

Grief for herself. For the life she'd lost.

She examined the life her sisters had chosen. Fragile or not, they had husbands who gazed at them as if they were the only women in the world. They had children who played and laughed and gave sweet kisses. True love, the kind that was the most fragile of all, was in this disinfectant-scented room with the hard plastic chairs and the stark cold tile floor. The love they'd brought with them. The love they held in their hearts. The love they shared for Michelle as they gathered to wait. To pray for her. To be there to celebrate the new life she was being given to love and guide and protect.

How many gatherings like this had she missed? Every single one of them. She'd missed every one of her nieces' and nephews' births. Except this one.

Ryan, he was the reason she was feeling like this. His kiss…what had it done to her?

Confused, she took the empty carriers to the garbage can in the hall, poured two packets of sugar into her chai tea and sat down to wait. She couldn't help wondering. Where was Ryan now? Was he regretting kissing her? Or had she hurt him by running away?

Two hours and eighteen minutes later, Brody appeared to announce the birth of their son. Ten-pound, eight-ounce Gabriel Peter, named after his daddy and grandfather.

 

Ryan watched the sunset bleed like a wound. The proud rugged peaks of the Rocky Mountain Front glowed crimson beneath a troubled sky. The hospital parking lot felt abandoned. Although it was crammed with cars, he was the only one making his way across the petal-strewn pavement.

The gusty winds had stripped all but a few petals from the trees. Dark limbs reached upward, through the haze of light from the tall structure. The first cold raindrops fell as he dashed inside.

There was no wait for an elevator in the lobby, which was nearly as quiet as the parking lot had been. As he jostled the packages and gifts for Michelle's baby, he punched the button for the maternity floor.

Kristin had been on his mind for hours. The memory of their kiss remained like a whisper in his soul. The sort of whisper that was too quiet to hear the words, no matter how hard he listened. All he knew was that it had brought him here.

All was calm as he strode down the hallway. His boots beat like his pulse down the long corridor. He followed the shine of fluorescent lights on the tile to the last door on his right. It was half open and, hidden in the shadows, he raised his knuckle to knock but froze at the sight of Kristin. She was seated in a chair, graced
by the glow of a lamp, so still and calm he could see the rare and beautiful love within her as she gazed down at the tiny bundle she cradled in her arms. A newborn child.

In the space between one heartbeat and the next, he saw the world shift around him and time roll forward. For one brief moment he saw her holding a different child wrapped in a similar blue receiving blanket, dark downy hair curling beneath the blue infant cap.

His son.

In her arms.

She was his fairy tale—enchanting and kind and a vision of everything good and dear. She stole his heart and he couldn't have stopped his feet from moving forward anymore than he could have stopped his heart from beating.

He lost his heart. It was gone. No longer his.

More sure than he'd ever been in his life, he walked into the light.

W
hat was this ache inside her, so sharp and fierce it was like a great pain?

She felt as if places within her spirit were being opened for the first time. Places open only to the man who emerged from the shadowed doorway, with flowers in one hand and helium balloons trailing behind. He seemed like a dream, her dream. Had she been thinking so hard about Ryan that she'd conjured him up from her imagination?

No, he was real. His step a hush on the floor, his presence as tangible as the pain in her heart. Wearing ordinary wash-faded jeans and a black T-shirt, he was manly, all right. Just watching him made the woman in her give thanks.

Strong and steadfast, he towered over her. He was all she could see. All she wanted to see. Her spirit silenced. The places within her swelled with a strange force that was like pain. But no, it wasn't pain exactly. She didn't know what it was, but when Ryan knelt before her, it brought tears to her eyes.

“Look what a precious gift you're holding.” When he spoke, it was as if he tugged at strings stuck to those tender places deep within her.

An odd pulling at her heart and her soul that made her ready to shatter. She couldn't bear to look at him, it hurt so much. She gazed down at the new life cradled in the crook of her arm. Looking at her new nephew made a different place within her spirit hurt, too.

She cleared her throat before she answered, and her voice came out as a rough whisper. “This is our newest blessing from God.”

Ryan leaned closer to study the sleeping infant. His eyes tightly shut. One fist visible. “It blows me away every time I see a new baby. Look at those tiny fingers. They're just so…new.”

“And precious.” Kristin's eyes burned, and she didn't dare disturb Gabe, who'd had a hard time drifting off to sleep. “I've got another incredible nephew. I'm a pretty lucky aunt.”

“You surely are.” His rumbling baritone was like a kiss to her soul.

She shivered. The pain within her, that wasn't a pain at all, became something more. An emotion she would not acknowledge. She
couldn't
.

“Michelle and Brody are just down the hall, if you want to give her those flowers.”

“Down the hall? I can't imagine they'd want to leave this little guy.”

“Only because I swore I wouldn't take my eyes off him. They're having dinner. It's a special thing the hos
pital does, serves steak-and-lobster dinner to the new parents. They have it catered. It's really nice.”

“They should get some time together, because they may not have a quiet romantic dinner for some time to come.”

“Exactly. That's why I volunteered to stay with him. Besides, tomorrow I head home, right after Easter dinner. I have a big day on Monday. It's work stuff. So I thought I'd get in as much baby holding as I could. Next time I see him will be, gosh, next Thanksgiving, when I come home again. He'll be seven months old. He'll be so different than this.”

“Yep. Babies have a tendency to do this. Grow up.”

“Yeah.” The intense emotions she refused to feel became sharp enough to spike through flesh and bone, that's what it seemed like as baby Gabriel's sweet round face blurred. Everything became a fuzzy cloud as she blinked hard and fast.

What was wrong with her?

“He sure is something. I bet holding him makes you think about having one of your own one day.”

“He sure is precious. Michelle and Brody are blessed to have him.”

“Yeah. Aren't they?” Ryan's chest thrummed with a yearning so strong, it felt ready to blow him apart. He thought of how he'd been sitting on the back steps, feeling the night come. Missing his dad.

Seeing the past, present and future in the same moment, what was and what could be, made him sure. As if his dad was watching out for him from heaven after
all. Once, Dad had been like this, gazing at the woman he loved with a newborn in her arms.

The seasons of life come full circle. He understood it now. What was the quote? There is a time for every season. As one season was linked to the next, so was one life linked to another. His father to his. And, one day, God willing, his life to his son's. Love was the glue that bonded them together for good.

This world was full of hardship and tragedy, accidents and illness, of loss, but of renewal, too. And God's great gift of love.

That's what this was in his heart, in his soul. Love, honest and true. As infinite as heaven. As precious as grace. And it filled him with tenderness so rare, it overpowered everything. Made everything clear.

All that mattered in his life was right in front of him. Kristin. Deep furrows dug into her forehead. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. He could feel her sadness, for his heart was hers. A life not lived was its own sorrow. He knew, because that's how he went through his days, too. Existing, and it was no way to live.

He was already reaching. His fingers already aching for the different texture of hers. He covered her hand, and the link between them strengthened. His soul sighed.

Now, all he had to do was to come up with the right words. How did he start? “I'm absolutely sure of one thing. I'm going to be moving to Seattle.”

“Your mom mentioned that you were thinking about it.”

“Yep. Phoenix is just too far away.”

“From your mom?”

“From you.”

The spikes in her rib cage lengthened. Sharpened. She felt this way because of the baby she was holding. The beloved new life asleep in her arms, trusting and innocent. Maybe it was her biological clock starting to tick.

Or maybe it was that she was afraid if she met Ryan's gaze, she would want everything she couldn't believe in. Even if she wanted it, she couldn't. Not knowing what she knew about life. About loss.

No, she wasn't going to let him go any farther. She had to hold on to her heart. She took a steadying breath although she felt as if her ribs had shattered. As if a part of her were dying, but it had to be said. “We're only friends, Ryan. You shouldn't move just to be closer to me.”

“Don't you feel this between us?”

No,
she should say. But the truth rang within her.
Yes.
If only he could be the one. The one man she could love for every day of her life to come.

Could he be?

All she had to do was to look into his eyes to see it. Yes. This all-consuming agony within her was love. Love for this man kneeling before her, and she couldn't let herself feel it or it would move through her like a mountain creek, refreshing and sweet, and it would tear her stable world apart.

“Excuse me.” She waited for him to remove his hand
and stand so she could lay baby Gabriel in his bassinet. With her arms empty, it was easier to close her heart. To face him, even though he'd let the balloons go. They hopped along the ceiling toward the other bouquets of balloons in the corner.

He held the flowers, white lilies and pink roses, to her. “I've got to say this. I don't know if the moment is right, but I know your sister and her husband are going to be walking through that door soon. And you'll be surrounded with your family again and tomorrow, with Easter. And then you'll be gone.”

“Don't, Ryan.” She had to be smart about this. She had to stop him before he went too far. Her entire life depended on it. “I don't want you to say—”

“I love you.”

For one split second she felt as light as the balloons he'd brought. She seemed to be floating. When Ryan took her hand, she felt dizzy and joyous and terrified all at once. As if she were falling through the stratosphere without a parachute. With only the earth far below to break her fall.

His kiss sparkled across her lips. Soft and warm and wonderful. Like a dream she wanted to hold on to as tight as she could and never let go. But how could she? She broke away from his amazing tenderness, feeling her heart buckle and her soul crack.

She'd chosen her life for a reason. Look at the baby, so infinitely precious. If she kept following this new path, it was too much to lose. Life was like that. Look at Mom and Dad. Love didn't last. Not
even the best of loves. People let you down, death happened. The steel she'd found in herself, that had gotten her through her family falling apart, Allison's death and losing the parents she used to have, was strong.

Very strong. She could feel what was next as Ryan's heart opened more. He was going to propose. She could feel it. She could see his dreams as if they were her own. Married, life along the lakeshore in Seattle, children and car pools and quiet evenings after the little ones were sleep.

No!
It took all her effort to take one jerky step away. To put distance firmly between them. She swore she could hear what remained of her heart crumbling into dust. “I think I hear my sister.”

She felt Ryan watching her as she circled away from him. Swore she could feel his heart turning to dust, too.

Desperate, she popped into the hall and there was Michelle, hand in hand with her husband. The two of them walking slow and leisurely, moving as if one, caught up in each other. True love.

Kristin tore her gaze away. Ryan was right behind her, his hands falling to her shoulders. It was the sweetest thing, his love. His unwavering devotion.

Emotion wedged tight in her throat made it impossible to speak. Everything within her begged her to turn into Ryan's arms and reach out to him. To kiss him the way she longed to. With all the tenderness she had. With all the love stored up just for him.

“This isn't over,” he whispered.

“Yes, it is.” She meant it. She had to. This man would be so much to lose. Whether over time as love faded to nothing. Or from the inevitable truth that this earthly life wasn't forever. Ryan already had a piece of her soul. Losing him would be losing
everything
.

How could she put her faith in that? She couldn't do it. No. She stepped out of his touch, turned away and gave thanks when Michelle and Brody arrived in the room, chasing away the tension, bringing their joy.

Kristin left the moment she could and was grateful when she stepped out into the night. Alone, she raced the first raindrops to her mom's car and collapsed into the driver's seat. While the defroster chugged away at the foggy window, she watched Ryan emerge from the building and disappear into the black curtain of cold rain, taking her heart with him.

 

She was one raw nerve by the time she reached her parent's house. Wrung out and soul weary, she didn't care that she was drenched to the skin on the walk between the detached garage and the house. The world around her was as pitch-black as hopelessness, but the light from the kitchen window glowed, drawing her gaze.

Easter decorations were everywhere. From the basket of candy eggs on the counter to the colorful clings in the window, to the cross as the centerpiece on the table where Mom was standing. She had Emily at her side, kneeling on a chair, their heads bent together decorating sugar cookies.

“Pink! Pink!” Emily was chanting as Kristin opened the door.

“Yes, you did a good job with the pink buttons. Now, let me give our bunnies happy smiles. See?” Mom patiently squeezed frosting onto cutout cookies laid out in neat rows on a cookie sheet. “Oh, Kristin. There you are. Ryan called looking for you. I tacked his cell number up on the bulletin board.”

This isn't over,
he'd told her. He was certainly a man of his word. Too tired, feeling half-dead inside, she dropped her keys on the counter. She'd deal with Ryan later. What she wanted more than anything was to lie down. Maybe she'd take a book and a cup of tea and—

The oven timer beeped. She reached over to turn it off.

“Kristin, honey, could you take the loaves out for me. I've got my hands full. If you don't mind?”

“Loaves? Of bread? What are you doing baking bread at this hour?”

“Tomorrow's going to be a busy day. With everyone coming for Easter dinner, and Michelle coming home in the evening, and her house to get ready, and all the cooking.” Mom set aside the tube of frosting. “Emily and I sure have been busy.”

“Yum,” Emily agreed, licking the finger she'd swept through the bowl of colored sugar. She was adorable and she knew it. She wiped her hands on her ruffle-edge pink shirt and grinned like the princess she was.

“And you!” Mom's chuckle was thin edged, but there was no mistaking the joy she took in being with
one of her granddaughters. “What color should we make the bunnies' shirts?”

“Yum!” Emily answered with glee, reaching for a second helping to the sugar topping.

Too cute. Kristin grabbed the oven mitts and took the first loaf from the oven. She popped the golden loaf from the pan and flipped it onto the cooling rack. The second loaf stuck and she shook gently, waiting for it to release.

That's when she noticed the bottle of antacid on the counter. It was safely out of Emily's reach, but hadn't been put back in the cupboard. One thing Mom never did was leave clutter anywhere, even one bottle. She really
must
be tired.

And it was Kristin's fault. Instead of coming right home from the hospital, she'd driven around in the rain and lightning for hours until her emotions had settled into a quiet wooden numbness. That wasn't good, either, but it was better than feeling as if she'd been broken wide open from the inside out.

If she'd come straight home, then she would have been able to help Mom.

The loaf tumbled into her protected hand, and she turned the bread over to cool. She'd left a dent in the top and she patted at it, hoping it would go back into its original shape.

“That's all right, honey.” Mom sounded tired as she circled around the island. “Can you keep an eye on Emily for me?”

“Sure. I haven't lost my touch at decorating cookies.”

“That sure would be a help. The potatoes should be chilled long enough, and if I whip up the salad now, it would be one less thing to do tomorrow morning.” Mom hefted the big bowl of diced potatoes from the refrigerator shelf and winced. Her hand flew to her chest. “Goodness, my stomach's acting up again.”