Homefront Holiday (9 page)

“Mike has his own things to do.” She prayed that she sounded sure and calm and her heart was safely tucked away. “The two of us can put up our new ornaments together. Won’t that be fun?”

“But what about Mike?” Ali looked anxiously to his champion. “He’s gotta stay, too!”

“No, kid. It’s time for me to go.” Mike yanked the boy’s hat off by the ball on top. “But will you do something for me?”

Ali nodded gravely, grabbing on to Mike with both hands.

“You have to take care of Sarah. Make sure she has a good time getting the tree just right.” Mike dropped the hat on the arm of the nearby couch and knelt to help Ali out of his coat. “It’s an important job. Think you can do it for me?”

“N-no. Y-yes.” Ali’s bottom lip trembled. “Don’t leave, Mike. Don’t go.”

“I’ve got to. This isn’t my tree. This isn’t my house.”
And you’re not my son.
Mike bit back those words and the surprising bitterness with them.

If anyone besides Sarah had started adoption procedures, he would be in there, fighting tooth and nail. He wished he could do that to Sarah, but he couldn’t. He stood instead, doing what was right, doing what had to be done. Excising every last bit of his heart, he strode past her to the door. He didn’t look at her. He didn’t think he had the strength to. Having him around was hurting her as surely as it was hurting him. There was only one thing to do. Ali didn’t really need him. He had everything he needed here with Sarah.

“I’ll call you next week, Ali.” He stopped on the top step. Something held him back. He hated to think it was emotions he had no right feeling. “Tell you what. You can come help me pick out and decorate my tree.”

Instead of being glad at the prospect, Ali’s eyes filled. Why? The little guy stood there, fists clenched at his sides, his mouth in a downturn and tears rolling silently down his cheeks, then he stormed out to this bedroom. Mike felt helpless. He’d thought the boy had loved going to the tree lot.

“You.” Sarah came at him like a four-star general. “That’s twice now you have made him cry, and I won’t have it. You can’t treat him like that.”

“Like what?” He felt as if his chest was being cracked open. “I’m doing what’s right. Are you going to tell me that you want me to stick around?”

“What I want you to do is not to treat him the way you do the rest of us. Making him care. Making him promises. He expects you are going to be here for him, but you’re doing what you always do. You’re keeping him at arm’s length and acting as if you don’t have a clue when it breaks his heart.”

“Whoa, there.” He held up both hands. “That’s not what I do, Sarah. You’re the one adopting him. Not me.”

That stopped her. There were tears in her eyes, too, shimmering and vulnerable. “I can’t say that I want you here. I wanted to pick the tree out with Ali. I want to decorate it with him, just the two of us. But look at him.”

“I see.” Ali had pressed his face to the front window, tears rolling down his face, so little and vulnerable. “I didn’t think he would react like this.”

“Me, either. He’s more attached to you than either of us realized.” Sarah turned away, shaking her head, scattering the fall of her red hair that gleamed like a dream as she went back inside the house to comfort her foster son.

Mike’s throat went scratchy. He didn’t mean to pry, but he couldn’t seem to look away. The picture she made as she went down on both knees to pull the boy into her arms was something he had envisioned more than a few times. Once, when he pictured his future, he had always seen Sarah and their child, just like that.

All he knew, was that he could no longer walk away. Not like this. He was at a loss. He had thought Ali wouldn’t mind so much, it was simply the matter of spending less time with him until the boy didn’t notice he was gone. After all, he had a busy, happy life with Sarah. Why would Ali want him, too?

He hated it when he was wrong. So he ambled back into the house and shut the door.

“I’m going to make some brownies,” Sarah was saying as she wiped away the last of Ali’s tears and stood. “We’ll put off decorating the tree for a while. Mike, do you want to stay?”

“I’ve got to.” He drew himself up straight. The fortifications around his heart were more important than ever. He held out his hand. “C’mon, Ali. Let’s put our feet up and see if there’s a game on.”

“Okay.” With a sniffle, the boy came to him. He wrapped his fingers around Mike’s so tight, he was bound to cut off circulation. “Good.” Ali let out a shaky breath, as if his anxieties were abating.

“I’ll be in the kitchen.” Sarah came close enough to gently ruffle the boy’s hair, all affection and sweetness.

She took the last whole piece of him as she walked away. Mike closed his eyes, lost and wishing he could find his way.

It was starting to be too much.

“D
on’t forget Wednesday night, seven-thirty. Match-making trivia night.” Olga gathered up her purse and bag and the package of brownies. “Say, Mike? You can come, too. Even if you aren’t a member, we would love to have a handsome, strapping doctor like you.”

“I’m working, I think. Or on call. I can’t remember, but I’m sure it’s one of those.”

“Excuses, excuses. There are two things a man can’t hide from forever, Mike Montgomery, God and true love.” Olga had a way about her that was both strong and inviting, and she flashed Sarah a private wink. “It’s the tall, strong silent types that get my heart every time. I’m sure you know exactly what I mean.”

Did she. Although was she going to admit it? No. Sarah opened the door for her friend. “I’m assuming you are talking about Pastor Fields?”

“Franklin.” Olga sighed, her affections for the minister no secret to anyone. “That man sees me and thinks, oh, there’s the woman who makes those great homemade pierogies. We had the worst first date in recorded history. Not, oh, there goes the love of my life.”

“Maybe that’s what he’s thinking secretly.” Sarah couldn’t think of a better match than Olga with their dear pastor.

“He needs time, or so I hear.” Olga stepped out into the cold night. Maybe it was the darkness, but the vivacious woman looked uncharacteristically bleak. “I fear it’s a kind excuse because he doesn’t want to hurt my feelings.”

“I’m praying for you, Olga. You deserve a good man like Pastor Fields.”

“Bless you. Now, enough of my woes. You think on what I’ve said, and I’ll check with you tomorrow after church. We will get this worked out for Ali, you’ll see.”

“Thank you, Olga.” She believed in this woman. Already she had done so much for Ali. “Drive safely.”

“Will do. Have a lovely evening!” Olga tapped down the sidewalk to her car parked at the curb.

Sarah waited a moment to make sure her friend was in her car and on her way, before she closed the door and turned to the boys on her couch. They were taking in the highlights on one of the sports channels. Now, that was a sound she had surprisingly missed. It reminded her of all the cozy winter afternoons they had spent together, Mike watching a game while she sat reading or working on lesson plans.

“I’m not going to any singles event, especially at a church.” Mike watched her over the back of the couch. Maybe a smile was hovering in the corners of his stern mouth. “I hope you’re not going to get mad at me about that.”

Oh, so he
was
joking. “Then you just be careful not to cross me, or you might just have to.”

He arched one brow, as if he were trying to figure out if she was serious or joking right along with him. Well, let him wonder. She had enough on her hands trying not to see both the past and the future she had lost. “Olga has helped Ali tremendously.”

“She’s nice,” Ali added, hopping up onto his knees on the cushions. He propped his elbows on the back of the couch and rested his chin in his hands. “Sarah, do you know what?”

“I’m afraid to ask, cutie.”

“Mike’s gonna see me tomorrow.”

“Is that right?” Mike had turned toward her, and she could feel his intense scrutiny. Typical Mike, she couldn’t begin to guess at his emotions from his stony expression, but Ali’s wide grin had to be a clue. “What are you two boys up to?”

“Boy stuff.”

“What exactly is that?”

Ali shrugged. “I dunno. But I get to see Mike.”

“That’s right, Ali.” Mike reached for the remote and clicked off the TV. “We’re going to play a little basketball, like last week—”

“And Sarah can come with us, too, some?”

“You didn’t let me finish.” Mike was gentle, but firm. “But we’re going to do some things different, too. It’s just going to be you and me and maybe we might get ice cream instead of pizza.”

“Ice cream for dinner?” Ali shook his head. “That’s not right. Sarah says it has to be a food goop.”

“Food group,” she quickly corrected. “I’m going to leave you boys to finish making your plans. I’ve got dinner to get started on.”

“Can Mike stay?”

Before she could answer, Mike was already shaking his head. “Sorry. But do you know what? If you get to missing me, you can call me. How about that?”

“Okay. I can call you now?”

“If you want to.”

“Can I call you in an hour?”

“Yep. I’ll even answer.”

“How about in two hours?”

Sarah took her escape, trying to hold back the rising swell of gratitude. She wanted to stay angry at him. Anger was easier. Anger gave her a reason to push him away. It made her forget how very much she loved the man.

Clarence slitted open his eyes and watched her from the top of the fridge. She pulled a can of stewed tomatoes from the pantry shelf and heard a familiar step behind her.

Mike. He stood in the archway, one wide shoulder against the wall. “Is that what I did to you? Did I keep you at arm’s length?”

“You know you did.” She set the can on the counter. Did Mike really look bewildered? Did he really not have a clue? “All I wanted was to be closer to you. All through college, it was your studies in the way. Then when you were in medical school, you hardly had any time for me.”

“Sarah, I couldn’t help that. I thought you understood—”

“I did. You wanted to become a doctor, and I wanted that for you. So I waited for you. All those nights you were on duty, I went to bed without a call from you. Those days when you were making rounds and taking classes, I went without seeing you. With every deployment, I was right here carrying my cell everywhere in case you had time to call. I loved you enough to wait.”

He didn’t move. He probably didn’t even get what she was trying to say. It didn’t matter anyway. They were over. She knelt down to pull a deep-sided skillet from the cabinet. “You were always promising, and I was always waiting. It wasn’t until today that I realized the truth. That with you, I would have always been waiting. This isn’t about the army or you committing to me. It’s that I was never the woman you were going to open your heart to.”

“That’s what you think?”

“It’s what I know.” Gently, she set the skillet on the burner, feeling stronger. Somehow she felt free, to say the words to him. “I’m sorry I was angry at you earlier.”

“I deserved it. Are you still mad at me?”

“Not like I was. I was just as much to blame. It’s taken this last year to see what love really is.”

“You mean it’s not all roses and wishes and wedding plans?”

“Now you’re teasing me, Major. Love is many things, but I hadn’t realized it is mostly duty. So that said, I’ve got some cooking to do. Are you going to take off?”

“Yeah.” He looked as if he was about to say something more but changed his mind. “I’ll be by to pick up Ali after church. I will take care with him. He’s what matters now. You and I have that in common.”

“We do.” She liked that Mike smiled at her. She was surprised how easy it was to smile in return. For the first time she felt peaceful in his presence. They were united in purpose, and it felt comfortable. Right. She couldn’t see God’s plan, but she trusted it.

“Good night, Mike.”

“Take care, Sarah.” She heard his footsteps retreat to the living room. His voice rumbled low, and Ali’s sweet voice answered. They talked together before the door whispered open and clicked closed.

Ali’s sneakers squeaked on the hardwood. “Sarah, do you know what?”

She pulled out the cutting board and a knife. “What?”

“Mike sure is nice.”

“Uh-huh.” She knew firsthand that Mike could be very nice. “You two had fun today. I know you miss him.”

“Yeah. I miss lots of people.” Ali ambled over to the refrigerator and raised his hand toward Clarence. He went up on tiptoe. Then he jumped. “I miss Grandpa. I miss my mom.”

“I know you do.” Sarah left the counter to crouch down so she could be on Ali’s level. She waited for whatever it was he needed to say.

“Mike isn’t going to go to Heaven, too?”

“Not that we know about.”

Ali nodded and grabbed her hand hard. “When people go away, sometimes they go there.”

“Sometimes, that’s true, but I’m not going anywhere. Whatever happens you aren’t going to be alone. I promise you that.”

Ali looked so sad. “I don’t like being all alone. I like being with you, Sarah. And Mike, too.”

“I like being with you. Oh—” The phone rang, startling her. “Why don’t we see who that is?”

“Is it Mike?”

“He just left, silly.” Sarah chuckled, kissed his cheek and reached to grab the cordless. She recognized her mom’s number on the screen. Not surprising, as she usually called every Saturday evening. “It’s for you.”

“Nanny Alice!” Ali grabbed the phone, eager to talk to his new grandmother. “Hello! Hello!”

Bless Mom, Sarah thought as she watched the boy dance around the kitchen. She and Dad had unconditionally accepted her decision to be a foster parent, and had been involved and loving first with Carlos and now Ali.

And bless Olga, she added. Ali was beginning to talk about his losses. That was a big step. But right now he was chattering on about the Christmas tree and how big it was and how he had helped Mike tie it to the top of the car.

I’m going to have to explain about Mike, Sarah reminded herself as she opened the refrigerator door and earned a scowl from Clarence.

Mike had a lot on his mind as he pulled into his assigned parking space and killed the engine. He found himself staring up at the lights of the medical center, blazing like a beacon of hope against the coming darkness. Sunset stained the underbellies of clouds and streaked the fading blue of the Texas sky. He’d meant to head home, but didn’t want to face the emptiness his life had become.

Maybe it just seemed empty, he told himself as he locked up and hiked across the lot. Being with Ali today had been like getting back a tiny piece of himself. Sitting on Sarah’s couch like old times with her baking brownies in the kitchen and chatting with her had been a balm to the restless loneliness that haunted him.

It wasn’t like he wanted her back or anything. But her accusation had stirred him up some. He didn’t intentionally keep people at a distance. She had it all turned around. She really did. He had let her closer than anyone. She had been family to him; the woman he intended to marry. He’d been committed to her heart and soul, as much as he had of either to give anyhow.

No, he thought as he missed a step. She wasn’t right. She was hurt and angry, that’s why she said those things. She had been emotional over Ali. That’s all.

“Major.” He was saluted by Jim, one of the night guards. “Didn’t expect to see you tonight. You’re not on call.”

“No.” He couldn’t very well explain the real reason he was here anyhow. Jim had a wife and two kids at home. He wouldn’t understand what was left when a long-term commitment fell apart. He had been with Sarah since college. She had been his anchor during most of his adult life. He had to face facts. Maybe part of the reason he felt adrift was because he was without her.

“I came to check on Whitney Harpswell.” That was the truth, too. While she was no longer in his care, he was rooting for her. “I hear she’s been more responsive.”

“So I hear. It’s a hopeful sign,” Jim agreed.

The corridors were quieter in the evening. The dinner trays had been served and cleared, and most patients were asleep or nearly so. Visitors were gone.

That is, Mike reminded himself, except for a few. He stopped in the hall outside Harpswell’s door. Her husband was still in there, his voice a long rumble. He was talking to her, or reading something. Reading something, he decided by the steady cadence of those mumbling words.

He went to clear his throat, to announce his presence, and he overheard. He didn’t mean to. Sounded like Harpswell was reading the Bible.

Best not to focus on that. Relying on anyone, even God, wasn’t his thing. What did strike him was the husband’s sincerity and tender regard for his wife as he stopped reading to brush a finger against the side of her face and pressed a kiss there.

Commitment and devotion, Mike understood those things. But there was no reserve in the husband’s gaze. No embarrassment in showing his affections for his wife. No mistaking the man’s emotions as he folded his hands, bowed his head and blinked back tears.

I waited for you.
Sarah’s words came back to him, not taunting, not angry, and with all the notes of despair that had been in her voice.
With every deployment, I was right here carrying my cell everywhere in case you had time to call. I loved you enough to wait.

He had no doubt that if he had been hurt serving his country, Sarah would have been sitting at his bedside, refusing to leave, just the way John Harpswell was with his wife.

Mike cleared his throat and grabbed the chart. “Good evening, Harpswell.”

“Major.” He straightened, startled.

“Don’t bother to salute. This is a social call.” A new one for him. He flipped open the chart, studying the chicken scratch. “She opened her eyes twice today. That’s good progress.”

“She recognized me and talked a little.”

“It’s not uncommon for a coma patient to move in and out of consciousness.” Mike took in the young soldier’s stance. There was a man who fought for his woman, whatever it took. Mike felt like a failure in comparison. A big, know-nothing failure. That was a tough thing for a surgeon to admit. He replaced the chart. “I have a good feeling that Whitney is going to pull through this.”

Harpswell gave a nod, struggling with emotion. The kid looked tired. He had to be early twenties, and yet the weariness made him look older. His devotion to his wife made him look stronger. He studied his wife and laid his hand on the Bible on his knee. “I’m sure a man like you has seen more than a few miracles. It’s awesome, how God can work through us. I’m grateful to you for recognizing her when she was brought in.”

“I’m glad to help.”

“Probably just another miracle to you, but they are rare for me. Thank you, sir.”

Emotion burned like acid reflux, making it hard to answer. “You’re welcome. I’ll check in again tomorrow.”