Tattered Innocence (33 page)

“…I want to. Now.”

Shock stilled him. Even his heart seemed to
miss beats.

She stepped closer, not quite touching him.
Her fingertips dug into his shoulders. She lifted her face, her
eyes never leaving his, and pressed cool lips against his dry
ones.

A hand threaded into his hair. Her arm wove
around his waist, her body molding itself to his.

He warmed to her, hungry. His fingers spread
across her shoulder blades, crushing the bulk of their jackets
between them. He drank deeply, enough to last a lifetime. Good-bye
hovered at the edges of his consciousness, ready to devour him.

Rachel’s teeth tugged at his bottom lip. Her
fingers branded the skin above the waistband of his jeans.

A hand dropped to her hip.

What was she thinking? What was she
doing
?

His control hung by a thread.

For too many reasons to count, he refused to
go where this kiss was taking them. He relaxed his hold on her,
eased his lips, his body from hers, just enough to let cool air
pass between them.

Rachel peered at him, starlight shining in
her eyes, her fingers still warm on his skin. His hands gripped her
shoulders, quaking at what he had to do next.

Joy percolated to the surface as a breeze
off the ocean cooled Rachel’s skin. She’d gathered her courage and
packed the kiss with everything she couldn’t put into words. And it
had been perfect.

Jake gripped her shoulders in silence,
probably sharing her awe. He turned his face, and moonlight caught
on tears streaking his cheeks.

Had the kiss touched him deeply enough to
prompt tears? She ran her fingers through the wetness on his face.
“What’s wrong?”

Jake inhaled a shaky breath. “I—I’m marrying
Gabrielle.”

She stared at the anguish in his eyes, not
comprehending. Then, the ice blade of Jake’s words penetrated her
body. A strangled sob tore from her throat before she clamped shut
her mouth. She had been right all along. Jake loved
Gabrielle—that’s what she’d suspected until five minutes ago.

“I never thought Gabs would return—much less
with my son—demanding we marry. I’m… so… sorry.”

She convulsed from his embrace into a dead
run down the beach as though she could outrun the impact of his
decision.

Her name tore from Jake’s throat and died in
the surf behind her.

The truth knocked her to her knees in the
sand, winded. Keening sobs churned in the sound of the surf, and a
minute passed before she realized they were her own.

“Rachel!” Jake dropped down and gathered her
in his arms, his breaths pulsing in her ear.

She sucked in the scents of sweat and salt
between sobs, not having the energy to resist the white pain of his
touch.

He kissed her hair, murmuring something
between kisses she couldn’t distinguish. Why did he rain kisses on
her when he planned to marry Gabrielle?

As she quieted, Jake’s words spilled over
her, running in rivulets over her head into her ears, trickling
much deeper. “I love you so much. I don’t want to hurt you.”

An errant sob shuddered through her body.
“What did you say?” She pulled away, but Jake didn’t loosen his
hold.

Jake held her by the shoulders, his eyes
piercing into her. “I love you.”

Hope blazed in the dark, then smoldered to a
watery grave. “But you’re marrying Gabrielle.”

Jake’s hands dropped from her shoulders.
“This isn’t about what I want. It’s about what’s best for Nate.
It’s about what God wants.”

How could he sound so noble when her heart
was ripping down the middle? She stood and brushed the sand from
the knees and shins of her jeans with the last grains of hope.
“Since when do you care what God thinks?”

“Since you threw my life in my face at the
Ruins.”

Even in the dusky light, she saw the
conviction in his eyes.
I get the irony, God.

More weary than she’d ever felt, Rachel took
a long look at him. “Goodbye, Jake.” He opened his mouth to speak,
but she held up a hand. “Don’t say anything.” She turned her back
on him and plodded toward the dying bonfire, her heart discarded on
the sand at his feet.

Rachel slammed the car door in the driveway
of her parents’ house. Time to quit wallowing in self-pity at
Cat’s, face the state of her parents’ marriage—whatever it was—and
search online for a crewing job. One thing she’d discovered through
this episode of her life—sailing was the desire of her heart. If
God had intended for her to become a teacher, He would have skipped
the dyslexia or given her enough energy to climb the college
mountain. In her heart of hearts, sailing trumped college.

She’d move on with her life—as if the
thought didn’t make her hyperventilate.

First she had to face her parents. She drew
in a deep breath to fortify herself. She hadn’t seen them since
they reconciled. She pushed open the door and stepped in. The
screen door slapped against the doorframe behind her.

Mama and Daddy spooned on the couch watching
TV.

“Hi, honey,” Mama said as if she’d seen
Rachel yesterday instead of a week and a half ago.

“Hey, stranger,” Daddy said, not moving his
arm from around Mom’s waist.

She’d felt so rational in the car, but now
her veneer of calm cracked.

Daddy was supposed to be in his easy
chair—like always. He’d only moved a few feet across the room, but
she needed normalcy to hold herself together. Jake’s announcement
that he’d marry Gabrielle had sledge-hammered into her, webbing
fissures from the blow. The cozy still frame of her parents on the
sofa tapped her like a gavel, starting the rain of glass.

Mumbling something about catching up
tomorrow, she dashed to the stairs before she shattered.

She curled into a ball on her bed as if that
would keep her from breaking into a thousand razor-sharp pieces.
Then, sobs overtook her like they had on the beach, but this time
Jake didn’t wrap her in his arms and tell her he loved her. She
cried harder.

God. Oh, God.

Her vision cleared to the picture on her
night stand of herself at seven clutching one-and-a-half-year-old
Hall under the backyard banyan tree. Her knee boosted Hall so he
didn’t slide out of her arms.

The ache for a baby of her own nearly choked
her as she picked up the clear glass frame holding a
mother-daughter snapshot taken when she was fifteen. They wore
matching New Smyrna Beach High T-shirts silk-screened with pink
barracudas in honor of the girls’ basketball team. Mouths open,
mid-laugh, they posed as mirror images of each other, Mom’s
straight hair the same length as Rachel’s curls. The photo captured
the more-clone-than-child link she’d always felt toward Mom.

If it hadn’t been for her irrational fear of
losing Mom, she wouldn’t have over-analyzed her parents’ marriage.
She wouldn’t have flipped into panic mode when they hit drama that
didn’t involve her. She might have accepted Jake’s proposal
overlooking the Ohio River. She could be engaged to the only man
she’d ever loved.

Anger and regret boiled under the surface.
She traced a finger over the glass covering mother and daughter’s
loosely linked arms, symbolizing an inviolable connection that,
until this moment, had always felt right.

As the anger broke through, she realized it
had always been there—since Mama’s affair—squashed under the fear
of losing Mama. How could Mama have chosen a strange man over
ten-year-old Rachel, four-year-old Hall, and Daddy who only ever
loved her? She couldn’t blame her own affair on Mama, but Mama’s
choice had frayed the fabric of Rachel’s character.

Now she had Mama, but not Jake. Her thumbs
whitened, blotting out the faces. Rage spilled over, and she hurled
the picture the width of her room.

It face-planted into the door jam, spewing
glass, and plunked to the floor.
Good.
She let the anger
bulldoze her despair. If Mama had just delivered Hall at the
hospital like normal mothers did, if she didn’t have a man on the
side—

The bedroom door creaked open, and Mama
stuck her head into the room. “What happened?” Her gaze fell on the
broken picture frame. She bent to retrieve the shattered photo,
shut the door, and picked her way through the spray of glass.
“What’s going on?”

“Are you in love with Skye?”

Mama crossed her arms. “What’s this have to
do with you?”

“Answer the question.”

“I don’t see how it’s your business.”

“Jake asked me to marry him. Worrying about
you and Skye made me turn him down. Now he’s engaged to his
ex.”

Mama sunk onto the vanity stool. “I admit
being tempted—by an old attachment that never went completely
away.”

“You’re still hooked on him?”

“I
love
your father. I don’t even
like Skye. He’s never had your dad’s integrity.”

Silence throbbed in the room.

Mama gripped the edges of the vanity bench.
“Skye let me into who he was inside—and I doubt he ever showed that
part of himself to anyone else. That’s probably why his marriages
failed and he came looking for me.” Mom’s gaze flicked out the
window. She’d gone somewhere Rachel couldn’t follow.

Rachel opened her mouth to speak, then shut
it. “Have you been seeing Skye all these years?” She didn’t care
that bitterness oozed out with her words.

The color drained from Mom’s face. “It was
just that once. Biggest mistake of my life. I nearly lost….” She
choked up. “The three of you.”

There was more Mama wasn’t telling. But
Rachel clamped her teeth together. Did she really want to know?

Mama gripped her hand. “I made an error in
judgment and met Skye for coffee. Your father was furious—and now I
get why. She shook her head sadly. “When I think how close we came
to throwing away our marriage and our love for each other over
coffee
, it’s unbelievable.”

Rachel tried to pull it away, but Mama held
on. “Forgive me for the affair and how it hurt you.”

The picture of begging Hall’s forgiveness
sprung unbidden to her mind. She didn’t want to think about it. She
didn’t want to forgive Mama—so many years of fear, injuring them
all.

Mama’s grip tightened. Her eyes, so like
Rachel’s, pled with her.

Rachel didn’t want to remember how desperate
she’d been for Hall’s forgiveness. She didn’t want to know exactly
how Mama felt at this moment. But she did. Mama’s love fire-hosed
at her. Mama didn’t love her any less because she’d lost her way
for a little while.

Rachel filled her body with fresh oxygen. “I
forgive you.”

Tears ran from Mama’s eyes, and she hugged
Rachel long and hard. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” The words felt light,
buoying her up from a lifetime of fear and bitterness, setting her
free.

Mama scooted the stool closer to the bed.
Her fingers found Rachel’s hair as they had when she was a little
girl. “Tell me about Jake.”

Rachel’s whole body sighed as she launched
into the story.

Finally, she sat up, tugging her hair free
from Mama’s hand. “He told me tonight he’s marrying Gabrielle to be
a father to their son.”

Mama blinked once. Twice. “Oh.”

The waterworks turned on again, and she
slumped into Mom’s arms.

“You’ll love again, stronger than the first
time. It happened to me with your father.”

Rachel sucked in a quivering breath and sat
up. “You mean Daddy wasn’t your rebound?”

Mama’s brow wrinkled. “I did meet your
father right after breaking up with Skye, but I fell in love with
him, heart and soul—a man of faith, honest to a fault, kind. I love
him even when he’s pigheaded and jealous, like recently.”

Mama drew in a deep breath. “You can quit
worrying. Your father and I are not splitting up—ever.”

Mama picked up the broken picture and
propped it beside the photo of Rachel and Hall. She kissed Rachel
and left.

Rachel stared at the picture. Jagged glass
covered her image, slicing a line between her image and her
mother’s. She wasn’t Mama’s clone. They were mother and daughter,
each with her own regrets, her own secrets, that God was working
out in each of them.

For the first time, she let go of her
stranglehold on Mama.

Jake loved her. In spite of his marrying
Gabrielle, the knowledge felt like a divine kindness. It gave her
hope that she’d heal. Mama said Rachel would love again, better
than the first time. It wasn’t much to hang onto, but it was
something.

Jake wrapped Grams’ rings in soft, pink felt
and put them away in a waterproof lock box in the bilge. Tim wasn’t
sentimental, but maybe Ned would use them. He’d get a safe deposit
box tomorrow. No way would he risk sending the rings through the
mail.

He rooted through his sock bin until his
hand closed on the jewelry store box that held Gabs’ ring. He’d
almost sold it to buy the
Queen
a new engine, something he
would never consider with Gram’s rings.

He turned Gabs’ diamond so it caught the sun
streaming through the aft cabin porthole. He’d spent way more than
he could afford on the ring and worried himself sick that Gabs
would consider it cheap. She’d never say so, but he’d always
wonder.

The door between the engine room and the
cabin swung open.

Gabs walked into the cabin, the baby draped
over a shoulder. “I need to go to Little’s Drug Store for a
prescription. Would you mind watching Nathan and letting me borrow
your ca—” Her eyes honed in on the ring, and she sank to Rachel’s
bunk, Nathan sliding into her lap.

How could he tell Gabs he’d marry her while
she perched on Rachel’s bed?

“So—?” Gabs peered down at him from her
elevated seat, the symbolism raking across his nerves.