by Bella Andre
"Oh God, I hate that I keep making you go back there."
"No. You were right. I was too mad to grieve. Not only for what he did to me, but also for what he did to Jordan. Our lives were never going to be the same. She was never going to have a normal childhood. All she had was a big brother who went from being a kid to being her everything, with the pull of a trigger. All through my childhood I told myself no one needed to know the truth about what was going on at home. But last night you helped me see that it's long past time to stop pretending. No one has ever seen inside of me the way you do. You're barely back here a couple of weeks, and you're making me face things no one else wants to acknowledge. Because you care about me. Because you want me to be happy." He cupped her face in his hands, gently stroking her cheeks. "So take time to do that thinking you need to do. And know that I'll be waiting for you. All you need to do is come with your heart. You can leave the rest to me."
"I've told you so many times that I'm leaving," she whispered. "How can you have faith in me like this?"
She swore her heart was beating in time with his as he said, "I'm not going to lie to you--it hurts that you're so hell-bent on leaving."
She had to reach out for him too then, had to put one hand on his beautiful face, his stubble scratching her palm.
He covered her hand with his own, his warmth seeping into her pores, into every cell. "But no matter what, I'm not going to stop loving you. I never stopped loving you, Sarah. Not even when the past had me wanting to. Not even now, when the past isn't a reason anymore, and I know you're going to be sitting in your mother's house tonight making a list of all the reasons why you don't think the future will work."
And then he was gone, driving home with his sister, leaving her alone with the lake and the moon and the lonely call of a loon desperately looking for its mate.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Olive had kept busy her whole life--busy with the store, busy with her husband and daughter, busy with her town. These past few days in the hospital were the first time she'd had to do nothing but sit and think in nearly seventy years. She was knitting, of course, but for once the constant movement of her hands wasn't nearly enough to keep her in the present.
To keep her away from Carlos.
It wasn't just being idle that had her mind--and heart--returning again and again to her first love. It was her hopes for Sarah and Calvin that had her fingers stilling over her lacework, and the memories coming back once again.
*
1941...
Friday nights were theirs.
It was surprisingly easy to find an excuse to sneak away from the football game or to skip it altogether. The bike ride out to the carousel had her heart flying in her chest every single time.
They could have met somewhere else, somewhere safer, where there would be no threat of discovery, but Olive knew that was part of it.
A part of her was hoping they'd be discovered.
Every Saturday through Thursday, she remembered the way his mouth felt slanting against hers, his big, strong hands cupping her curves as he pulled her closer on the carousel. Restless, unquenched need made it hard for her to fall asleep, and every morning when she rose, she felt like a sleepwalker until she finally settled herself down on the porch with his Fair Isle sweater on her lap, thoughts and dreams of him making up the heart of every stitch.
Dropping her bicycle to the ground, she threw herself into his arms and covered his face with kisses. "I love you."
The words pressed from her mouth to his, and that was when he pulled away. "Olive. My pretty Olive. You're so innocent."
"Did I do something wrong?"
"No. You're perfect." He ran his hand over her long hair, threading the dark strands through his fingers.
"But something is wrong, isn't it?"
"Your father's project is going to be done soon."
She had been trying to pretend it wasn't true, but every time she looked at the new addition, there was a new wall, a new window, a new door. "There's always more work."
"Yes, but not here. Not for me."
He'd had a life before her. She knew that. But it had been easier to believe that time was standing still for them. Until now, she'd let herself focus on laughter and kisses and adventure.
Tonight she knew what he was telling her--just as she'd had to be the one to reach for their first kiss, she would need to decide about their future. And soon.
Only, before she could make any decisions about her future, she needed to understand his past. "Why did you come here?"
He was silent for a long moment, a muscle jumping in his jaw. "There was a fire. My wife. My son. I lost them both." His voice was a raw scratch of pain. "And my business. The books I printed. They all burned."
"Oh, Carlos. I'm so sorry."
Pain ravaged his face. There had always been a fire inside the man in her arms, a fire that had sparked her own inner flames to life. For the first time, it was extinguished.
"I came to Summer Lake because I had to leave Chicago." His eyes found hers, held them with such intensity she almost had to look away. "And then I found you."
She opened her mouth to express her sorrow again, but she knew that her words could never be enough.
"You made me feel again, for the first time in a year of feeling nothing at all. That's why I tried to push you away that first day you brought me coffee. That's why I tried to scare you with the freight train ride--so that you'd run away. You're too sweet, too pure, too young for a man like me. You deserve someone who can love you without a past holding him back. You have your whole life ahead of you. Mine is already behind me." He brushed her tears away, but they were falling too fast for him to get ahead of them. "You should be smiling. Always smiling. I don't want to be the man who makes you cry. That isn't how I want to remember you, pretty Olive."
He needed her, had always needed her, from that first moment she'd seen him on the lawn talking with her father, from their first sparring conversation over hot coffee. She saw that now--how even as he teased her for her innocence, he needed to be reminded of hope. Of unquenchable dreams.
But what about her love? Could her love replace all that he'd lost?
And could she possibly be strong enough to heal him?
She wanted to be right there waiting with open arms, wanted to be his shelter from the storm. She had always thought that love would be fun and exhilarating, not difficult.
But the truth was that as she wrapped her arms around the man she'd fallen in love with, she simply didn't know if she was strong enough to be his cure. Because if she hadn't even had the guts to tell her sisters--let alone her parents--about her relationship with Carlos, then how could she possibly be strong enough to be the medicine he needed?
"I don't want you to leave," was all she finally said.
But both of them knew she hadn't asked him to stay either. They held on to each other until they heard the telltale sounds of the football game ending.
When she was finally back in her room later that night, Olive sat on her bed, intent on finishing the Fair Isle sweater. A strand of her hair had fallen into the yarn, but instead of pulling it off, she knitted it in. Looking at her hair threaded into the sweater she'd made with such love, Olive finally made her decision.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Present day...
Calvin picked up his sister from the backseat, warm and smelling faintly like the Oreos he had given her as an after-dinner treat. She stirred in his arms, putting her arms around his neck, her blond head settling in beneath his chin. When had the little baby he'd been so afraid of breaking turned into someone he had to use muscles to lift?
She curled up on top of the bed as he removed her shoes. He was usually strict about things like tooth brushing, the amount of TV she watched, and bedtimes. But he decided she could brush for four minutes instead of two in the morning to make up for tonight's cookies, and pulled up the blankets over her.
He kissed her on the forehead. "I lov
e you, little sister."
Her faint response, slurred with sleep, came as he closed the door. "Love you too, big brother."
He had just closed her door with a soft click when he heard it--the sound of tires on the gravel behind his house.
Sarah.
He was waiting for her on the porch when she walked over. Every instinct he possessed had him wanting to pull her against him, but he knew he needed to let her lead tonight.
"I needed to come back, to talk to you, to explain things."
He'd known she was too brave to hide out in her house all night. He'd known she would come right back here, that she'd be unable to resist something neither of them should have been resisting all along.
"Jordan's asleep. How about we talk out on the dock?"
The two of them walked silently across the sand, then out to the end of the wooden dock. But unlike the hundreds of times they'd come out to the end of a dock together since they were little kids, she didn't immediately sit and swing her legs over the edge. Instead, she turned to face him, looking as serious as he had ever seen her.
"I'm not going to stay. And you're not going to leave."
"Distance, miles, those are things we can live with over time. Those are things we can figure out together. As a couple. As a team."
"You make it sound so easy, but I know better. Growing up, whenever my father was around, it was as if my mother was floating on air. She was so happy. But when he left--and he always left--she'd deflate like a balloon. She didn't want me to see it. I know she didn't, but how could I not? You and I have tried it already. We tried having that commuter relationship like my parents had when I first went away to college." With that sad, resigned look firmly lodged in her beautiful blue eyes, she continued, "And now, I couldn't stand to be the one coming to the lake for a long weekend here or there. I couldn't stand to always feel like I was leaving you behind."
"Neither of us wants that." And it was true--he wanted the woman he married, the woman he had his children with, to be there with him every day, every night. The other half that made him whole. "But just because it was like that with your parents, just because we couldn't pull it off when we were kids, doesn't mean it has to be like that now."
"It's more than location and time and distance," she insisted. "It's the fact that you're so easygoing, so happy to just be out in your canoe with a fishing pole--and I'm so type A, always reaching, just like you said."
He had to smile at her then, at the fact that she really was going down her list of reasons why not, one bullet point at a time. But he had his own list ready of all the reasons their love was going to work. Because he was fighting for her this time. Fighting for his own heart. Fighting for their love.
"Don't you know that's one of the things I love about you?" he said. "The fact that you're never going to let things stay static? I need you to pull me forward, and you need me to sit you down beneath the stars and hold your hand while we wait for them to start shooting. Together we can make our wishes come true, sweetheart. I know we can."
She looked up at the sky then, almost as if she were waiting for a shooting star to make a wish on. Too soon, she looked away, before she could make one. "I grew up with two people who should never have fallen in love with each other," she said. They wanted different things, different places, different lives. My mother should have had a half-dozen kids to bake chocolate chip cookies for. My father went off to live the life he needed to live in Washington. And I honestly don't think he regretted being gone, because he was enjoying his work so much there, because he was so committed to his path, his purpose." Softer now, almost to herself, she said, "He hurt my mother by leaving all the time. Badly."
Calvin almost couldn't stop himself from reaching for her then. Just as he couldn't stop himself from saying, "It's not just your mother who was hurt, Sarah. He hurt you too."
"No. You're wrong. I always knew he loved me."
Her words pierced his heart. But he'd been there for all of those moments when she'd needed to look into someone's eyes and know how much she was loved. Calvin knew the truth, even if she didn't want to admit it to herself.
"James was a great senator; he gave everything he had to strangers, but he wasn't there enough for you. Not when you were learning to swim and singing in the choir and giving speeches."
Her beautiful face was stubborn. "My father had an important job helping people. And when he was home, he was great. He was the best father in the world."
"Yes, he was great," Calvin agreed. "When he was here." He paused, weighing his words again, not wanting to hurt her, but knowing there couldn't be anything left out. Not when it felt as though their entire future was resting on this conversation. "But it wasn't enough. And now you're so afraid of loving and being left again the way he left you--and so afraid of being the one who leaves and hurting me--that you're grasping at any reason you can find to push me away first."
Her eyes widened at the truth of his statement, but resolve came quickly on its heels. "I'm not grasping at reasons. My father said he loved my mother, acted the part in front of the crowds, in front of me, but when it came right down to it, he never really let her be a part of his life. I know you want me to say I'll try to make things work with you, but how can I, when I know that we'll be heading down the exact same path?"
"Has Denise told you that's how their relationship was?" he asked. "Have you actually asked her if that's what was going on with her and your father?"
"He hasn't even been gone a year. I'm not going to hurt her by asking a question like that."
"Is that really why you aren't going to ask her for the truth? Or is it because you're afraid of her answer? Are you afraid she won't let you use her marriage as a reason not to risk loving me all the way?" The words were barely out of his mouth when it hit him that it was time to admit something big to her. And to himself. "You're not the only one who's scared, Sarah. I am too."
Not once in the past ten years had he said those words. He hadn't ever let himself think them because he'd thought that admitting fear meant he wasn't strong enough to take on everything that he had. Only now, as they stood on the dock beneath a clear night sky, he could finally see that the truest strength of all was admitting he didn't want to be alone anymore. That he'd always needed support. Sarah's support.
And most of all, her.
"I'm not afraid of loving you," he told her, laying every last piece of his heart on the line. "The only thing I'm afraid of is what it would be like to try to make it through another day, another week, without you. I've already done it for ten years. I know how bad it is, how long and dark the road can be."
Her eyes widened at his honesty. At the risk he was taking in leaving his heart wide open like this. But still she said, "I'm not good for you. You let me file those papers at city hall for the condos without a fight. We both know you'd be fighting harder if it were anyone else but me. I've read all about your stance on development in the Adirondacks. If a stranger had come in with this proposal, you'd be shooting down these condos with everything you've got." She stepped away from him, and he felt the separation as keenly as if their connection had been cut with a knife. "You're putting aside your own moral code for me. What if someone in town thinks I'm sleeping with you to win you over to my side?"
He had promised himself he would calmly listen to all of her arguments. But he hadn't expected this one. "Anyone who would think that clearly wouldn't have a very high opinion about you or me."
"What else could they possibly think?"
"That I love you. That I can't help but want to protect you because you're mine. Mine. They're going to think I'll never be able to hurt you. Never, no matter what."
"But shouldn't the person you're with, the person you love and who loves you back, make you a better person rather than make you compromise your values? Rather than make you hurt yourself to keep them from being hurt?"
"You're the smartest person I've ever met," he said, "but you're dead wrong on this. We cou
ld sit here and debate those condos for the next sixty years, but at the end of the day, they're just buildings. As far as I'm concerned, there are only two things that matter in any of this." He cupped her face in his hands and made sure she was looking at him. "You. And me."
"But it isn't just you and me," she protested. "Jordan is the most important person in your life. And she should be. I would never want to do anything to hurt her. Because I love her too, right from the minute I held her after your father died. Every time I saw a little girl her age on the street, I'd think of her, wonder how she was doing. And I'd always know that she was fine. Because I knew you were taking care of her better than anyone else could have. I can't risk hurting her. I can't risk saying I'm going to stay and then realize later that I can't. Not when I know exactly how much being left behind hurts."
"If the other choice was living without you," he told her, "if it meant I'd fall asleep with you in my arms every night, if it meant I'd wake up holding you every morning, I'd deal with a city." And he meant it, wasn't just saying what he thought she wanted to hear. "I'd find a way to make it my home. And I'd make sure Jordan was happy there. We both would."
"Please." There was anguish in her voice. "Don't ever leave Summer Lake for me. It would kill me if I did that to you--to Jordan."
"Can't you see," he said, desperate for her to understand, "it's not black and white. Leaving doesn't have to mean cutting ties."
"That's exactly what it means. That's exactly what we did. We cut ties. I cut them."
"We were young. Both of us, not just you. We can make it work this time, I know we can." He'd been working like hell to give her space, to give her the room to let it all out, but now he had to move closer. Had to push harder for the love he believed they deserved. "You picked Summer Lake for those condos for a reason."