Nowhere but Here (20 page)

We stayed that way for what felt like days. I imagined the time-lapse version of those moments we sat embracing each other on the couch after we made love, still connected and still overrun with heat. The sun would rush up and blast us through the blinds and then sink down again, casting strange shadows on the walls, but we would be the same, tangled in each other. In the darkness, our connected bodies would burn bright enough to fill the room with a warm glow.

He kissed my mouth and then stood and carried me to the bedroom. We spent an hour lying in bed and talking.

“So you believe in God?” I asked.

“I believe something is out there.”

“Like what, aliens?”

“Yes, aliens. That’s exactly what I was thinking,” he said sarcastically. I was lying on my side in the crook of his arm. He was sweeping his hand up and down against the skin on my back. “What do you think, silly girl?”

“I hope there is something more for the sake of everyone I’ve loved and lost.”

“I feel the same way. What do you think about family?”

“I wish I had one.”

“Me, too. Let’s make one.” It suddenly hit me what Jamie was asking.

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Screwing up my kids. I don’t even know what kind of person my father was.”

“Well, I know exactly what kind of people my biological parents are, and I have no concerns that their kind of slime has been passed on to me.”

I cupped his face and kissed him. “I don’t either, Jamie.”

“I believe that even though we’ve lost so many of our loved ones, we still have family around. They may not be blood related, but the people I considered my real parents were not blood related, either, and I don’t see them as anything less than family to me. I have Susan and Guillermo and Chelsea, and you have Jerry and Beth and Dylan, and we fucking have each other, Kate.” I nodded hesitantly. “Are you scared to do this with me?”

I shrugged. He grabbed my face and looked me right in the eyes. “How close am I to losing you?”

“What would it take for you to want to lose me, for you to want to leave?”

“It would take a fucking lot to drag me away from you. Don’t you see that?”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m broken or damaged.”

“I see this kind of splendor and innocent childlike wonder when I watch you. You’re always so curious about the world but terrified to be a part of it. You’re not broken just like I’m not cursed. I know that now.”

“I love you. Isn’t that enough?”

He scowled like it pained him to hear my words. “For now,” he murmured and then shut his eyes and turned away from me.

The next morning was Christmas Eve. After three cups of coffee, I was a jittering fool, so it might have been a bad decision to call Paul Sullivan back, but I did.

“Hello.”

“Thi—thi—this is Kate Corbin returning your call.” I couldn’t help but feel nervous. This guy knew my mother, but I didn’t know him.

“Hello, Kate. I was trying to find the whereabouts of Ann Corbin. I was going down a list of Corbins in the city, calling each one, and landed on you.”

“Ann was my mother,” I said quickly. “She died in 1994.”

“Oh.” He sounded stunned. “I’m so sorry.”

“Did you know my mother?”

“Briefly. In the Eighties.”

“How brief?”

“We dated right up until she met Samuel.”
Who the fuck was Samuel? Was he my dad? Oh god.
“Kate, are you there?”

“Can I meet you? I mean, can we meet for coffee or something? I don’t know who Samuel is. My mother never spoke of him.” Jamie was watching me from the kitchen with concern. He stood, eyes wide, with the coffeepot suspended in the air. I held my hand over my heart in some futile attempt to physically slow the rapid beats down.

“Yes, we can meet. Are you free this afternoon?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, how about the Starbucks on State at three o’clock?”

“Perfect, see you then.” When I hung up, Jamie was at my side in a second.

“What did he say?”

“He just said he knew my mom and that they dated until she met Samuel. I never heard that name from Rose or my mom.”

He wrapped his arms around me and brought me to his chest. “Maybe this will be good for you. Maybe you’ll get to know more about your mother.”

“I asked my mom about my father once. It upset her so much she could barely speak. I figured he was a deadbeat or something, but maybe Paul will be able to fill in some of the blanks. Rose always said if my mom wanted me to know, she would have told me. That makes me think my father, whoever he is, is a very bad person.”

“You don’t know that, and you don’t know what your mother’s reasons were.”

“You’re right, but I wonder if I’m going against her by digging into this. I guess she’s gone, and it doesn’t matter now. But still . . .” I leaned up on my tippy-toes and pecked his lips. “I’m going to do some laundry. Do you want to get lunch before we meet Paul?”

“I can go with you?”

“Of course.” I slid my hand down the back of his flannel pj’s and squeezed his butt. “Wanna do it in the shower to take my mind off of things?”

He scooped me up and carried me to the bathroom before stripping my clothes off in record time. He turned the shower on, took a step back, and scanned me from head to toe. I pulled his pants down as I knelt in front of him. He shivered and then clutched the back of my head.

“Baby, you don’t have to do that,” he said and then moaned. After he was thoroughly turned on, he lifted me up and kissed me while he backed me into the shower. “Turn around, sexy,” he said. When I turned my back to him, he instantly grabbed my hands and pressed them onto the tiles above my head. He leaned in and whispered, “I love you,” into my ear. I parted my legs and gasped when he pushed into me forcefully.

“You okay?”

“God, yes, just go.” He slid his hands down my arms, reached around with one hand, and began circling the sensitive skin above where we were connected. He gripped my neck hard with his other hand and continued his strong thrusts until we were both breathing loudly and moaning. I threw my head back, and his mouth instantly went to my neck and sucked and kissed and tugged. Then he gently bit my earlobe, and I fell apart, shouting, “I love you, too!”

After a lengthy tryst in the shower, I joked with Jamie about how much water his environmentally conscious ass wasted while he worked me over. He laughed and then tried to lick the water droplets off my body.

“See, the water isn’t totally wasted.”

I dressed quickly while Jamie spread out on my bed in just a towel.

“I’m gonna get used to having you in my bed all the time.”

“So.”

I just looked back and shook my head at him. After collecting my laundry and some of Jamie’s, I headed for the door.

“I can do that,” he said. He had dropped his towel and was standing naked by my dresser, about to give himself a shot. He pinched the skin and jabbed the needle in.

“I’ve got it. You’ve been doing my laundry for weeks. I can do it now.”

“It’s Christmas Eve. You shouldn’t be doing laundry on Christmas Eve.”

“It’s just one load. I’ll throw it in and be back in a sec.”

The washers in the basement laundry room were full. Irritated, I turned on my heel and ran right into Dylan coming toward me.

“Hey, chica.”

“Hi.” I set my basket down and gave him a hug.

He braced my shoulders, pulled away, and looked me up and down. “You’re glowin’, lady. Did you have a good morning?”

My irritation vanished. “Sounds like you’re getting familiar with this type of look?”

“Well, yes, I won’t lie. Ashley has been glowing nonstop for the last couple of weeks.”

“Are you careful with her?”

“Yes, we are.”

I smiled. “Good boy. What are your plans with her?”

“She really wants to go to Berkeley next year, so I’m gonna try and get into the music program at the University of San Francisco.”

“That’s wonderful, Dylan.”

“And I’ll be close to you guys.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought you were going to Napa?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Kate, you told me yourself.”

“I did? When?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and looked up to the ceiling curiously. “Do you not remember anything before you were attacked?”

“I remember stuff, I just don’t remember that day very well.”

“Jamie sent you a letter asking you to marry him.”

“I knew that.”

“Well, don’t you remember what you told me?”

Searching my mind, I shook my head slowly. “No, I don’t remember. What do you remember?”

“I remember your exact fucking words.”

“What, tell me?” I poked him in the chest with my index finger.

“You said you were gonna quit the
C
rier
, go out to Napa, finish your book, and say absolutely one hundred percent yes to Jamie. I’ll never forget the way you looked that day, all bright-eyed and glowing, kind of like you are now.”

“Holy shit, I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Yep.”

But did I still want that?

• • •

Jamie hailed a cab at the front of my building, which took us to a Vietnamese restaurant on State Street. It was a perfect day for
pho
. It was in the low thirties but not snowing—just windy and very cold—so the warm soup in a super intimate setting was nice. I didn’t want to talk about what I would ask Paul. I just wanted to have a nice lunch and enjoy my time with Jamie.

I stared at him from across the table. He wore a black T-shirt and black jacket with dark jeans and combat boots. His hair, although much shorter, still revealed streaks of blond. It was mussed in a sexy way on top. For some reason, when he was completely clean-shaven, it made his eyes look greener and the dimple on his left cheek deeper. His lips were always pale pink and healthy looking. I watched him slurp up the noodles in his soup like a little boy. Jamie was, by far, the most unpretentious billionaire in the world. He lived for the moment. He loved his life and just wanted to share it . . . with me.

“Jamie?” I said into my soup.

I felt him look up. “Yes, baby?”

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

“I haven’t said this, but I’m truly sorry about the article and jumping to conclusions. I’ve been running away from making connections with people most of my life, but I’m finished with that. I want to go back to Napa with you. I want to try it.”

He reached over the table and took my hands in his. “I would love that.”

We walked several blocks in the freezing cold. I stayed tucked against Jamie’s side until we reached Starbucks. It hit me as soon as I walked in that I didn’t know what Paul looked like or how I would find him, but I didn’t have to. He found me almost immediately.

“Kate?”

I turned to see a handsome man, probably in his late forties, much younger than I imagined. He had salt-and-pepper hair, brown eyes, and a thin, fit build. There was something very familiar about him. He was dressed nicely in a sweater and pants, the perfect picture of a distinguished gentleman.

“Paul.” I stuck my hand out but he hugged me instead.

“I could have spotted you a million miles away. You’re as striking and beautiful as your mother was.”

“Thank you,” I said, taken aback.

“I’m Jamie, Kate’s fiancé.” Jamie stuck out his hand and Paul shook it.

“Nice to meet you. Shall we have a seat?” Paul gestured to a table in the corner.

“I’ll get us coffees,” Jamie said.

I sat across from Paul and scanned his features. “So you dated my mother?”

“Yes, and I know what you’re thinking.”

“Oh?”

“I was much younger than her. In my twenties. She was close to forty.”

“Actually, I was thinking that you look very familiar to me.”

“Well, I’m a writer. Maybe you’ve read one of my novels?”

“Yes, that’s it!” It hit me instantly. The man I was sitting across from was the award-winning, bestselling author Paul Sullivan. “What an honor to meet you. I’m a writer as well. I write for the
Crier
.”

“Oh yes, I’m familiar with that paper. That’s wonderful, but honestly, I’m not surprised. Your mother was a huge fan of the written word.”

“What happened between you and my mother?”

He leaned back in his chair and smiled at the memory. “She was a teller at my bank. She was so uniquely beautiful. I would find reasons to go in and see her. She agreed to have lunch with me one day and we started dating from there.” He paused and his lips flattened. Looking down at the table in a daze, he said, “I was in love with her.” The age difference didn’t shock me because my mother always seemed young at heart. What surprised me more was that I’d never heard of this man who had been so madly in love with her.

“So what happened?”

“She was resistant to starting a serious relationship with someone so much younger. She said she couldn’t have kids, but apparently she could because she did. With Samuel, I assume?”

“I have no idea who Samuel is.”

He squinted and shook his head. “Well, that’s why she ended our relationship. She met Samuel. He was her age. She said he was a better match for her. They were engaged within weeks of meeting, and she told me she couldn’t see me anymore. The last day I saw her, she showed me her ring.” Jamie sat down at that point and took my hand in his. Paul looked a little choked up. “She cried and apologized over and over again. I left her there, crying on a lakefront trail. That was the last time I saw her, but I never stopped thinking about her. I don’t think I ever will.”

“Wow,” I said as tears ran down my cheeks.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. This must be very hard for you to hear.”

“I want to know. I need to know as much as I can. I don’t know who my father is. She never told me.” My voice was shaky. Jamie remained silent.

“Samuel Morrison. I would start there.”

“What about you? Do you have a family?”

The mood seemed to lighten. Paul chuckled. “Yes, I met my wife shortly after I dated your mother. We have five children, two grandchildren, and another one on the way. I have a very big family that I love, but like I said, I never stopped thinking about Ann, and I was curious. That’s why I called.”