This had been an especially difficult summer for me as I learned to consider needs and concerns other than my own. It was a financial stretch to help Margaret and Matt, but I badly wanted to give back to my sister and her family for all the sacrifices they’d made on my behalf.
Later, with Mom, I came to understand that our roles were now reversed. It was time for me to take care of her. The paperwork, finances and everything else involved in getting Mom settled in assisted living had been time-consuming and often frustrating. But my parents had always handled those details for me, during my bouts of cancer. I received the very best treatment available because my parents fought for me. Now it was my turn.
My third emotional lesson was perhaps the most painful. It came when Brad told me about Janice. I’d just about dissolved into a puddle of self-pity because the man I loved had broken off our relationship. Only later, when I looked past the pain I was suffering, did I understand that Brad had done this out of love for his son. Reconciling with Janice wasn’t what he wanted, but he loved Cody enough to put aside his own wants in an effort to give him the family he needed. I failed to be as noble. Granted, once I recognized his motives, I felt less hurt, but I wasn’t nearly as gracious or understanding as I could have been.
The bell above the door jangled and I had my first customer of the day. I half expected Margaret to rush out. She seemed occupied with order forms, so I placed the check on my desk and hurried into the shop.
Brad stood just inside and my heart seized at the sight of him. Margaret’s smile had nothing on mine. “Hello, handsome,” I said.
“Hello, beautiful.”
We stood there smiling at each other for the longest moment, until he held his arms out to me. I didn’t need a second invitation. My feet barely touched the ground as I ran into his embrace. Anyone who happened to be strolling past my shop window would’ve seen two people in love. Brad and I were entwined, arms around each other, kissing, kissing, kissing.
When we finally managed to break apart, it was with reluctance. “You’re so right,” I cried, running my hands over his face, needing to touch him. “I behaved like a jealous fool, and I lied, I lied. There’s no one else. Brad, forgive me. I’m sorry.”
“I am, too—for what I said last week. I could no more walk away from you than I could one of Alix’s chocolate éclairs.”
I laughed and poked my finger into his ribs. Then because it felt so good to be with him again, I wrapped my arms around him and held on tight.
“So there isn’t another guy?” he murmured. “There never was?”
“No one. You’re the one and only love of my life.”
“Forever?” he asked.
I looked into his eyes and whispered, “That could be arranged.”
His shoulders relaxed. “I was hoping you’d say that. It’s time, Lydia. Time for you and me. I came too close to losing you. I love you, Lydia. I’ve never stopped. Cody loves you. Chase loves you, I—”
I brought my lips to his, interrupting him. He didn’t need to say another word.
His hold around my waist tightened as he lifted me from the floor. “Does this mean you’ll marry me, Lydia Hoffman?”
“It does.” I wanted to qualify my response with a warning or two. The cancer could return. I wasn’t sure I could have children or that it was advisable. But I said none of this. Our marriage wasn’t about me—it was about Brad, Cody and me. Chase, too, for that matter. We were going to be a family.
“Lydia?” Margaret said, stepping out of the office, her voice tentative.
I smiled over at my sister. “How would you feel about being my maid of honor?” I asked her.
She turned to Brad, then to me. “You’re getting married?”
I nodded. “Are you up for a wedding?”
“You bet I am!” she cried.
I draped my arms around Brad and pressed my head to his shoulder.
I swear there was fairy dust floating all over that room.
CHAPTER 45
ELISE BEAUMONT
Maverick had, according to Aurora, returned from the poker tournament in the Caribbean, but he’d made no effort to contact Elise. She didn’t ask, but she thought Aurora had told her father that Elise knew about his cancer. Countless times in the few weeks before their last encounter, Maverick had invited her to come to his apartment, but she’d repeatedly refused.
In light of that conversation, he didn’t invite her again, and she didn’t blame him. She regretted that outburst now. When she could stand the silence no longer, Elise decided to go and see him.
The building was a new one, in a lovely area close to Aurora’s, as well as Seattle’s downtown area. She noticed that it was also close to a number of medical facilities.
The heaviness that had settled over her once she’d learned of Maverick’s leukemia grew more burdensome each day. She felt hurt that Maverick had kept this information from her and yet she understood why he’d been so reticent. Late at night, as they’d cuddled up together in her single bed, Elise had often sensed that he wanted to tell her something. A dozen times she’d felt it, but she’d suspected that he wanted to confess he’d been gambling again. She hadn’t been willing to hear that, so she’d pretended to be asleep. Their private nighttime moments were too precious to ruin.
The doorman was kind enough to show her where to press the button connected with her ex-husband’s telephone. Maverick answered on the second ring, sounding tired.
“It’s me. Can I come up?” Elise asked in a subdued voice.
“Of course.” A buzzer rang and the lobby door opened. Maverick’s condo was on the fifteenth floor. When she stepped out of the elevator, he stood in his doorway, waiting for her.
She nearly faltered when she saw his welcoming smile. All she’d done for weeks was harangue him with her bitterness. She felt such guilt, such an awareness of opportunities missed. Seeing him now, knowing he was dying, she burst into uncharacteristic tears. She couldn’t help it. Her shoulders quaked and she covered her mouth with both hands.
Her emotion had an immediate effect on him. Maverick wrapped his arms around her and brought her into the apartment. He closed the door with one foot, still hugging her.
“Elise, Elise,” he whispered, cradling her face between his large hands. “What’s wrong with you? My gutsy girl doesn’t weep.”
“I…feel…so…bad.” His sympathy, his soft crooning, only made her feel worse.