Seducing His Heart (29 page)

One delay became two. He managed to re-book,
only to have that flight canceled. Slowly the hours ticked away.
Christmas was disappearing. Still no word from Bess. Now, no
Internet and no cell reception. He was in the mountains and would
have to believe she’d be there.

He managed to beg a seat
on the last plane out in the middle of the night. He prayed
everything would go all right, that it would land safely and that
Bess would be there.
I wouldn’t blame her.
Hasn’t heard from me. Then this. Who am I fooling? She’s probably
got someone else by now.
He brooded for a
moment.
Not Bess. Please, God.

Kennedy airport was insane
with people from flights delayed all over because of blizzards and
fog in the United States. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw
a limo driver with the name “Bass” on a sign.
It’s gotta be Pick. Bless him.
Whit
grabbed the man and led him over to the baggage claim area.
Together, they dragged his luggage to the car, and Whit got
in.

He’d been traveling for
over twenty-four hours. He rubbed his cheek.
Need a shave. Bess likes scruff. Need a shower.

The driver did his best to weave his way
through the snarled traffic. They finally reached the New England
Thruway, which was almost bumper-to-bumper. They crawled. Whit
thought he’d lose his mind. He turned on his phone to check his
email. There were ten messages from Bess. They all said the same
thing—“Yes.”

After two hours, the limo pulled up in front
of the stone house. Whit tipped the man twenty bucks, grabbed his
bags, and headed for the front door. He stopped cold. It had been
sanded down and painted white. A brass knocker graced the top, two
inches below the tiny window. Whit used it.

Bess opened the door. They stood still,
staring at each other.

“
You look beautiful,” he
said.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside.
The warmth of the house embraced him like a loving hug. The scent
of a baking ham mixed with the smell of burning wood from the
fireplace.

Whit scooped Bess into his arms and kissed
her. She wiped tears from her cheek then stepped back.

“
God you feel good,” he
whispered, holding her close.

“
So do you.”

“
I love you, Bess. Love
you so much.”

“
Me, too.” She stepped
back.

“
Well, what do you think?”
She chewed her lip and sniffled.

His gaze zeroed in on the six-foot Christmas
tree. Voices from the past echoed in his head.

“
Christmas tree? Damn,
filthy thing! I’ve got better things to do than waste good money on
something that gets thrown out in two weeks. And who’s gonna clean
up those pine needles and shit? You? I doubt it. I’ve got no time
to clean up after a damn Christmas tree,” his father had said, when
Whit was five.

“
Don’t touch! That’s
Anna’s job, Whit. She decorates the tree every year. I hope you
understand, dear. Tell your father you want your own tree,” said
his Aunt Ida, the year he had spent Christmas at her
house.

“
I’m so sorry, Whit. We
don’t have money to buy a tree. It’s all we can do to feed you
kids. We’re older. We live on a fixed income. Can you understand
that? You will when you grow up. Put on your coat. Let’s go see the
tree in town,” said his grandmother, the year he had stayed with
her.

There was a half-empty box of ornaments on
the floor beside the tree. With a tremble in his hand, he picked up
a spare glass ball and hung it on a branch. Emotion gagged him. He
felt a sting at the back of his eyes. Whit fingered the needles,
fresh and fragrant. A deep inhale brought the sweet smell of pine
rushing to his nostrils. He blinked back tears and smiled.

His gaze passed over the room drawn to a
garland, with tiny, twinkling, lights, wound around the staircase.
Another graced the big window next to the dining room table that
faced the backyard. The table was set for two, with white plates
sitting proudly on placemats of Christmas plaid fabric. A spiral
cut ham rested regally on a silver platter, flanked by side dishes
of creamed spinach and roasted potatoes.

The sofa had an antique wood coffee table,
sporting a hammered copper bowl overflowing with red apples,
oranges, and walnuts. Two end tables with large, white, milk glass
lamps flanked the couch. Candles burned in brass holders.

Whit’s mouth hung open.
“It’s beautiful. Perfect.”
This is it. The
home I always wanted. It’s mine. Now. Finally.

“
Come see the kitchen and
the bedroom!” She took his arm and led him into the kitchen. A
faint sweet and spicy aroma of gingerbread teased his nose, and his
stomach groaned. He spied a small platter piled high with
gingerbread men, dressed with white icing. Cooking utensils and
brightly colored dishtowels lay scattered about.
This room is her.
She
belongs here.

They trudged up the stairs to the bedroom.
Whit took off his coat and laid it over a black, lacquered rocking
chair. He sat on the bed and bounced.

Bess held out her hands to him. “What do you
think?”

He took them in his,
grinning so wide his cheeks hurt. “It’s the most incredible house…I
can’t believe it’s the same place.”
It’s
everything I’ve dreamed of.

“
It needed a little
TLC.”

I need a little TLC. And
you and this house are the prescription to cure the ailment.
“Thank you. You’ve made my dream come
true.”

Each room was more stunning than the one
before.

“
You did all this?” He
raised his eyebrows. “Amazing.”

She nodded, her eyes filling. “Come on,
dinner’s ready. Of course, it was ready yesterday, but hey, delays
are delays.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

When they reached the dining area, Bess
handed him a glass of wine then joined him at the table. A sense of
peace, totally new, drifted through Whit’s veins.

“
What made you come back
so soon, and why didn’t I hear from you for so long?”

“
I came back for you. I
missed you. I tried not to. I’m ashamed to say, I thought not
emailing or calling would make me forget you. But it didn’t work. I
only wanted you more.”

“
You came back to be with
me? Mr. No Commit?” There was a tiny tremble in her
voice.

“
I’ve been stupid. Not
anymore. I get it. I get that you’re the best thing that’s ever
happened to me. I love you. I want to be with you always. Will you
marry me?” He pulled out a small box, opening it to reveal a large,
round, diamond ring.

Bess gasped.

“
Will you? Do I need to
get down on one knee?” Whit pushed up from the table and knelt in
front of her.

Tears flowed down her cheeks.

“
Don’t tell me there’s
someone else?” He frowned.

She shook her head.

“
Thank God! Talk to me.
Say yes, nod, something!” He grew panicky.

“
Yes. I will.
Yes.”

Whit jumped up and pulled her into his arms.
Then, he placed the ring on her finger.

“
I thought you were gone
for good,” she said, burying her face in his chest.

“
I couldn’t leave you. I
love you too much. You’re my dream come true.” He stroked her
hair.

“
I promise I’ll never
leave you,” she said, cupping his cheek and wiping her
eyes.

“
I’m counting on
that.”

She smiled. “You’re my dream, too. I didn’t
think you were ever coming back.” A timer went off. “Oh! The mocha
magic cake is done.” Bess sprang into action.

“
Everything looks good.
I’m starved.” He tucked into the food like he hadn’t eaten in
years.

After dinner, he sat back, sipping his
coffee.

“
Okay. Give. Why the
change of heart?” Bess narrowed her eyes.

“
You’ve made it clear you
want what I want. Those emails about the house. When I found out
what you were doing, I couldn’t wait to see it. It hit me one
night, after a few scotches, that I had what I’ve always wanted,
right here, with you.”

“
You don’t think I’m going
to run away? Leave you?”

“
A doctor once told me
that life has no guarantees. I can’t be certain, but I can try to
make you happy. He also said that by living my version of “safe,” I
was missing out on life. Messy life with the ups and downs, joys
and sorrows. Real living. Which is not what I’ve been
doing.”

“
A wise doctor.” Bess took
a taste of her hot drink.

“
It’s you, Bess. You make
the difference. You make me believe I can live my
dream.”

He walked over to his suitcase and opened
it, drawing out two packages. He put them on the table and sat
down. “Merry Christmas.”

“
Like the engagement ring
wasn’t enough?” She splayed her fingers and held her hand to the
light.

“
That’s different. Go on.
Open them.”

She ripped off the
wrapping to reveal a carrying case. She snapped it open. Inside
were a
Nikon D800
camera and two special lenses. She gasped. “Oh my God!
A
Nikon
? This
costs a fortune, thousands of dollars.”

“
You said you used to take
pictures. Bet you were damn good. Now, you have the equipment to do
it again.”

Tears filled her eyes. “Dad would be so
proud.” She kissed Whit.

“
This one isn’t nearly as
grand.”

She pulled off the paper. Inside was a
large, red leather photo album. “For my pictures?”

“
And for the ones you’ll
take of our family.”

“
Our family,” she
repeated, stroking the cover.

“
If I don’t have pictures,
Jeff’ll never believe I’ve done it.” He laughed.

“
Oh! That reminds me. This
came for you.” She pulled an envelope out of her pocket.

Whit looked at the return address. Emotion
closed his throat. As he slipped his finger under the flap, he
muttered, “Robbie.”

While Whit read his Christmas card from his
brother, Bess examined her new camera and read the instruction
booklet. They finished the bottle of wine. Whit immediately sat
down and replied to Robbie with a heartfelt email. He brushed aside
two tears as he hit “send.”

“
Come on. I’ve waited too
long already.” He held out his hand as he moved toward the stairs.
Whit took a quick shower then made love to Bess. They fell asleep
curled together.

The couple stayed in the stone house through
New Year’s, making plans for their life together. Then they fought
the traffic back to the city.

* * * *

Crash flagged a taxi for Whit. He gave the
address of Dr. Sumner’s office. His first call when he returned was
to make an appointment. He smiled in anticipation of a happy
session.

When the cab stopped, he tipped generously
and waited in the waiting room. It wasn’t long before Dr. Sumner
appeared. They shook hands. Whit preceded the doctor and sank down
in the comfortable, leather chair he always occupied.

“
I didn’t expect you back
so soon. What happened?” The doctor eased into his chair and
crossed his legs.

“
I got it.”

“
Got what?”

“
The answer. The answer to
the question.”

The doctor smiled. “Glad to hear it.”

“
I kept the house because
I wanted to put my family there.”

“
Sounds about
right.”

“
I’ve asked Bess to marry
me.”

“
And what did she
say?”

“
She accepted.” Whit
beamed.

“
Congratulations.” A smile
broke through the doctor’s usually placid expression.

“
She said she loves me and
promised never to leave.”

“
I hope you
know…”

Whit held up his hand. “I got it. There are
no guarantees. I accept that. I’m going to try everything I can to
make her happy, so she’ll stay.”

“
Sounds like you two have
a good chance for success.”

“
We’re gonna have kids,
too.”

“
That’ll change
things.”

“
I know. I’ll take it as
it comes. I need the whole package, doc.”

Dr. Sumner smiled again. “I understand. I
think you’ll make a fine father.”

“
Think so?”

“
I do.”

“
That’s what Jeff
said.”

“
You can count on him for
support.”

“
I know. I’m lucky to have
him.”

“
I think you’re ready to
go it on your own. You don’t need to come anymore.”

Panic seized Whit. “But what if everything
fails?”

“
You can come back. Maybe
every three months or so? Like getting your car tuned
up?”

“
A life tune-up, eh?
Sounds like a plan.”

“
I’m proud of you, Whit.
You’ve worked hard in therapy. Now, you’re going to have what you
want.” The doctor stood up.

“
Yeah, doc, I get it.
Time’s up.” The two men shook hands. “Thank you, Dr. Sumner. For
helping me get my life back.”