The Calendar of New Beginnings (21 page)

Her vision hadn’t altered like this since her hospital stay, and then it had only changed for the better. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Her vision was supposed to improve, not worsen. Could it be the stress from the fight? She had no idea, which made it that much scarier.

She glanced at her car. Right now she didn’t trust herself to drive. Her spirits sank. She couldn’t even take care of herself. Powerlessness overwhelmed her. She needed help, and if there was one thing that grated on Lucy’s nerves more than anything, it was having to depend on anyone.

She set off down the sidewalk to Andy’s house, hoping he’d be home. There was no way she was asking her mom for a ride after their altercation, even if her mother had known the truth. Her dad would drop everything at Hairy’s and run her home. But then there would be questions.

After passing Washington Elementary, she finally reached Andy’s A-frame house, which seemed gray to her. There were a few white thingies in the yard alongside a T-ball set. Baseballs, she realized. She had to close her right eye to count them. Four in total. The grass was a little long, showing Andy hadn’t had the time to mow it in a while.

When he opened the door, he immediately said, “What’s wrong?”

“How did you know?” she asked, noting the Labrador next to his legs. “I was going to ease into it.”

He wrapped his arms around her before she could say anything. “It was your face. You look…scared. Is it your eye? I don’t see your car.”

All she wanted to do was burrow against him. “Yeah, it’s my eye. I had a fight with my mom over the calendar. My vision went all funny as soon as I stepped outside—funnier than usual. I don’t understand how that could have happened—”

“I’m glad you came,” he said, keeping his arms around her. “It’s going to be okay.”

Crap. Now he was going to make her cry. “I know. Maybe it’s just stress from the fight.”

“Doubtful. From my research, traumatic optic neuropathy doesn’t usually see visual acuity worsen. Even from stress. This is…puzzling. How’s your color vision?”

“Worse. You looked it up?” she asked, even though she wasn’t surprised.

“Of course I did. I might not be an ophthalmologist, but I’m a doctor. I wanted to be informed in case I could help.”

“No one can help,” she said, embarrassed by her woe-is-me tone.

“You must have had some fight with your mother,” he said, sweeping his hand up and down her back in the most wonderful way.
 

She was sure she wasn’t supposed to notice how good it felt. She also wasn’t supposed to notice he smelled like pine and earth. At least her sense of smell hadn’t changed.
 

“Hey!” he said, tightening his arms around her. “You’re scaring me here. I think this is the single longest hug we’ve ever had. How bad is it?”

She pressed her head into his chest, noticing how hard the muscles were underneath his dark T-shirt. “It’s bad enough that I decided not to drive home.”

He was silent for a moment, stroking her hair, something she realized was more than comforting. No one had ever stroked her hair with that much tenderness before.
 

“Will you call your doctor, please, if you haven’t already?” he asked softly. “I know I said I wouldn’t push, but it seems like the smart course of action.”

Rubbing her head against his chest, she nodded. “I think I probably should. He said to call if there was any change.”

“I can take tomorrow off and drive you to Denver for the appointment,” he said, tucking her closer, all protective-like. “We’ll figure it out, Lucy.”

It moved her something fierce that he would cancel his work at the hospital to help her. “I can make it to Denver. Tanner offered—”
 

“I’m taking you! Don’t even try and argue with me. You’ll just piss me off.”

She hung her head against his chest, wanting to weep suddenly. “I’m not used to people helping me. Usually I’m the one helping.”

He hugged her tightly. “Well, get used to it, Lucy Lu. I’m here for you, and damn it, you’d better let me help.”

“Thanks, Andy. I don’t know what else to say.” Her voice was hoarse, she realized.

“You should tell your mom and dad, you know.” He shushed her when she went rigid in his arms. “Your mom wouldn’t have picked a fight if she knew what was really going on.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” she said, her spirits sinking further. Her mom’s precious project had been threatened. She might have chosen a different way of putting Lucy in her place, but she would have done the same thing regardless.

“All right. I won’t try and convince you.” He finally let go of her, but his hands were still on her waist and he was staring into her eyes.

It took Lucy a moment to realize he was trying to assess her condition…like the doctor he was.

She gave him a gentle shove in his middle, making him grunt. “Stop. I don’t need you going all doctor on me. You can’t see anything wrong with the naked eye anyway. Can you take me home? I wasn’t sure if Danny was around or not.”

Andy continued to study her—zoom in on her was more like it. “He’s at Latin dance with Natalie and Jane. They took him once as a lark because I was working late, and he got hooked. The oldest male is close to eighty, and Danny is the youngest. He goes once a week. It’s good cardio, better than soccer even.”

Laughter was the best balm in the world, especially in life’s dark moments. “That’s gotta be the best story I’ve heard in weeks,” she said, chuckling despite herself. “And to hear you calling it good cardio…”

His gaze was soft as he pushed her hair behind her ear. “Wait until he wiggles his hips to the merengue. You’ll be a goner.”

Her eyes might be playing tricks on her, but she’d be a goner if he continued to look at her like that. Suddenly her chest was tight. It was happening again. This weird, strange, otherworldly attraction for him.
 

“I can’t wait,” she said, hearing the breathless quality of her voice.

His nostrils flared like he’d heard it too, and everything inside her stilled. His hands tightened on her waist before falling away. He stepped back, and she could have sworn he shook himself.

“How about a beer?” he asked, putting his hand on the edge of the open door.

“Sounds good,” she responded, aware he was looking over her shoulder.

Somehow they’d both forgotten they were standing in the doorway for all his neighbors to see. Oh, how the Dare Valley gossip mill would turn if someone squealed that the now-eligible Andy Hale had kept his arms around Lucy O’Brien for a couple of minutes.

“Anyone see us?” she decided to boldly ask.

“I think we’re safe,” he said with a wry twist to the mouth. “Come on in. This is Rufus. He’s a good dog, but he’s a handful. I’m going to put him in Danny’s room so he won’t bother you and then grab us a beer.”

The minute Andy closed the door, he took her hand and led her down the hallway to what was clearly the family room.
 

“I’ll be right back,” he said, sitting her down on the tan couch and leaving the room with the dog.

Trucks, trains, and books lay in a makeshift circle on the floor in front of a dark bean bag chair, clearly Danny’s perch. Next to it sat an adult-size one as well—green, she thought. Lucy liked the image of Andy sitting beside the boy as he played. The fireplace was bare, but to the right sat a basket piled with fresh-cut wood ready for the cooler fall nights approaching.

She glanced at the clock. Just after seven o’clock. All she wanted to do was go home and crawl into bed. Right now, she felt like giving up. It wasn’t her usual, but she decided she was entitled to a pity party. Cold glass touched her shoulder, and she turned to see Andy handing her a bottle of Guinness.

“I know it’s not as good in the bottle,” he said, coming around to sit with her. “But it’ll hit the spot.”

Her two sips of her cosmopolitan didn’t count as mixing, so she took the beer and drank while he sampled his IPA.

“Feeling pretty sad, aren’t you?” he asked, putting his arm around her after setting his beer aside.

She turned her head. “How can you tell?”

“Please. When you’re sad, your shoulders sag.” He kneaded them. “Plus, it’s written all over your face. Who can blame you? You had a fight with your mom, and your visual acuity and color vision has worsened with no clear explanation. That’s what I’d call a pretty bad day.”

“I hate feeling sorry for myself,” she admitted, kicking her legs out and crossing them at the ankle. “But I’m feeling a truckload of self-pity right now. I just want my eye to get better. I want to take pictures again. I want—”

“Everything to be like it used to be,” he finished for her, kissing her temple. “I know. I have my days too.”

“What do you do when it happens?” she asked, glad she’d made the decision to come to him. She didn’t just need a ride, it turned out—she needed a friend.

He blew out a breath. “Well, you saw how I got the other night, which I’m still a little embarrassed about.”

She set her beer on the coffee table, and this time she was the one who leaned closer to him. “Don’t be. I’m glad you can share how you feel with me. We never held back in our chats online.”

“Seems a little different in person,” he said, pressing her head to his chest. “Right now, I’m happy to be the one comforting you. Don’t laugh.”

He’d always been sensitive about people laughing at him. Why, she could remember how upset he’d been in third grade when the class clown made fun of him for wearing brown cords to school in May. Lucy had shoved the boy later on the playground and told him she’d beat him up if he ever made fun of her friend again.
 

“I won’t laugh. I know it’s hard to be the one bleeding out.” If only the human body had a shutoff switch to flip when it was hurting.

“I look at stupid stuff online like lawnmowers or power washers instead of going to bed,” he said. “I sometimes can’t face going to bed alone. I miss…”

“What?” she asked when he trailed off.

His inhale sounded like an airplane engine firing up. “I miss hearing someone breathe next to me in the dark. I’m better now, but I have nights. After Kim died, I couldn’t sleep in our bed. I slept on the couch when I wasn’t sleeping by Danny’s bedside. After Kim died, he’d wake up crying for her.”

“You never told me that,” she said, trying to imagine the kind of toll that must have taken on him. On both of them.

“I’d lie in bed for hours, and even though I was exhausted, I couldn’t fall sleep. When I did my residency, I didn’t sleep much, but this was different. It was like I was numb or something.” He kicked out his legs, crossing them at the ankles. “Shit. This is pretty depressing. I should be trying to cheer you up.”

“You don’t have to cheer me up. Do you have a quilt? It’s stupid, but I’m suddenly cold.”

“It’s the emotion,” he said, rising and grabbing a blue and yellow quilt. He wrapped it around her and kept his arms around her too, rubbing her skin to generate warmth. “I know the things you saw in the field made you sad sometimes. What would you do to feel better?”

“Well…I usually wrote you,” she said, and when he shifted to look at her, she turned to face him as well. “You were always a link for me when I was pretty low, especially when it was too dangerous for me to go outside. I’d pull up my computer and write to you. It always helped. I don’t know if I’ve ever fully said it, Andy, but our chats have meant more to me…”

She cleared her throat, unable to go on. He’d been her lifeline in so many ways.

“They meant a lot to me too,” he said softly, tucking her hair behind her ears again.

The moment lengthened. She stayed where she was, looking back at him, feeling like she was seeing him in a different way than she ever had.

“Lucy—”

“Dad!” Danny yelled out, making them jump apart like two high school kids caught sitting too close together on the couch. “Rufus! Where are you?”

“Guess they’re back,” Andy said, rising and walking to the front door. “Hey, big man! How was Latin dance tonight?”

“The best!” the little boy said, appearing in Lucy’s line of sight. “Hey, Miss Lucy. Are you having dinner with my dad? Aunt Natalie, Aunt Moira, and Aunt Jane took me to Brian’s restaurant so I’ve already eaten.”

“Hey, Danny,” she said, giving a little wave. “No, we’re not having dinner. Just a beer.” That seemed like the understatement of the day.

The women appeared, all dressed in workout gear. They kissed Andy on the cheek. There was no mistaking their interest in her presence.

“Dad, where’s Rufus?”

“I put him in your room since Miss Lucy is here,” he answered.

“You look like you’ve had a tough day,” Moira said, coming over and sitting beside her on the couch.

“It wasn’t easy street,” she responded with her usual flair. “How’s the job hunt going?”

“It’s taken an interesting turn,” she said, frowning, and Lucy could all but feel the questions turning in her mind.

Natalie came over, pointing to the quilt around her. “Are you sick?” she asked.

“Nah,” she said, shaking her head. “Just got cold. Weird, right?”

As Jane walked over to greet her, Moira and Natalie exchanged a look and then glanced over at Andy, a silent question on their eyes. He gave them a blank look back—oh, that silent sibling communication—and took Danny’s hand, positioning the little boy in front of Lucy.