Читать книгу Homefront Holiday - Jillian Hart - Страница 11

“Can they blink now?” Ali was craning his neck, trying to see as much as he could from the driveway. Mike had finished putting up the second string of lights at the far end of the house.

“Wait till I come down, ya hear?”

“Yes, sir.”

As he climbed down, Mike listened to the thump, thump of Ali’s sneakers on the cement as he bounced up and down, unable to hold back his excitement.

Ali caught his hand and tugged. “C’mon. Hurry!”

Mike’s lungs seized up. The images of what he had let himself think about back in the desert took him over—images of what it would be like to have Ali for his son. Cooking dinner, taking him to school, taping crayon masterpieces to the refrigerator, hanging Christmas lights from the roof.

Not possible now, Mike thought as he knelt down at the gutter spout. Looks like he would have to carve those feelings out, too.

One end of the orange extension cord snaked up behind the downspout, and the other half was on the ground, just as he’d left it. He handed the plug to Ali. “You do the honors.”

“Can I? Oh, boy!” Ali’s eyes widened and grasped it fast. He wasted no time getting the short distance to the outside outlet. Mike knelt down beside him to hold back the outlet’s cover and helped him position the plug. It connected, colored light flared like fireworks against the dark sky and Ali clapped. “Looky. It’s blinkin’.”

“Good job, soldier.”

Ali straightened up and lifted his hand to his brow to salute. “I’m gonna be just like you.”

His throat closed and he stared at the flashing lights adorning Sarah’s little house until they no longer blurred. But now, he realized what he had lost. This little boy. He would never have him for a son.

“I love it. I love it.” Ali clasped his hands together, transfixed. “I love it! I want more. Can we do more, Dr. Mike? Pleeeease?”

“You want more?” He hoped his voice sounded normal. “Isn’t this enough?”

“No, sir.” Eyes wide, face happy, dancing in place, Ali was obviously thriving here with Sarah.

Could he fight for the right to adopt Ali? Should he? Maybe that was the bigger question. Ali had lost everyone he had loved; he did not need to lose Sarah, too.

Mike shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. Turn off your heart, man. Just turn it off. He didn’t let his gaze stray to the golden light of the window, where he might see Sarah. “You need enough lights for the Christmas tree, don’t you?”

“But I want lots.” Ali jumped in place. “So they flash and flash.”

A chuckle broke loose. “If I were you, I would beg Sarah to put the Christmas tree right at that big window there, so you can see the lights from the front of the house, too.”

“Yeah. Cool.” Ali clasped his hands together. “Those lights flash. That’s what Sarah said.”

It amazed him how fast the boy was acclimating to his new country and new life with Sarah. Sure, being in school now with kids his own age helped, but it also said a lot about Ali’s resilience and Sarah’s love for him. Mike wrestled down his bitterness.

“Sarah!” Ali bounded away, full of energy and pounded up the porch steps. “Sarah!”

“Who’s making all this noise out here?” Sarah’s gentle voice was full of laughter. “I can’t believe it’s you, Ali. For a minute there, I thought it was Clarence.”

Ali laughed and it was a precious sound, full of glee. “No, it’s me! You gotta come see.”

Mike had forgotten Sarah’s charm. Maybe because it tore him apart to remember. But there it was, in the sweeping smile and brilliant eyes as she scooped her cat into her arms like a furry baby. She lugged him with her as she padded down the steps, washed in the jeweled glow from the lights. He could hear the cat’s rusty purr as Sarah breezed near.

“You boys did a great job,” she praised. “Ali, do those lights blink enough for you?”

“No! I want more.”

“Those are the flashiest lights we could find in the store, silly boy.” Warm gentle love, that was Sarah’s voice. It was no surprise why Ali’s gaze was one hundred percent pure adoration. Even when she was upset, which she had to be having him here, she was kind. “Mike, thanks for helping out. I never could have done such a good job.”

“No problem.” His voice sounded choked as the air pressure changed and the steel walls around his heart buckled. The several feet separating them seemed to vanish as they gazed up at the lights together, as if shoulder to shoulder.

You don’t feel a thing, Montgomery, he ordered himself. You will not feel one single thing.

“Do you boys want to come in and warm up?” Her voice moved through him like a melody. “I’ve got chocolate cupcakes and cocoa for you.”

“Oh, boy. I do!” Ali clapped his hands. “That’s my favorite.”

“Yes, I know, cutie. It used to be Mike’s favorite, too.” Her gaze pinned him with a quiet question. In the silence settling between them she was asking him to stay.

“Dr. Mike.” Ali grabbed his hand and tugged. “We’re alike.”

Emotion lodged in his throat, burned behind his eyes. He wanted to stay for the boy’s sake, but how would this end? Ali would soon belong to Sarah legally, and there was no future for Mike here. He thought of the span of life he had traveled without her. He had covered too much ground to go back. He had too much pride to keep looking the woman, who had ripped him to pieces, in the face.

He took a backward step. “I sure would like to stay with you, Ali, but I gotta get back.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

Looking into those honest eyes made the lump in his throat harder to swallow. He missed the boy. Months ago when he had sent the boy off for his flight to the States, the desert outpost had been lonely without him.

All gone now. He squared his shoulders and put away those memories, those feelings. “I have to go. I’ll give you a call tomorrow. How’s that?”

“When tomorrow?” Ali’s grip grew tight enough to cut off circulation. “What time are you gonna call?”

He saw pain for the boy soft on Sarah’s beautiful face, but he did what he had to do. The boy wasn’t his to love. The woman never really had been. He did an about-face and plucked his truck keys from his pocket. Tomorrow was Sunday. “How about lunchtime? Before noon.”

“But I wanna see you, Dr. Mike.” Ali’s happiness dimmed, and the grief that his smile had been covering up was heartbreaking. “I waited and waited. Just like you said. We are gonna get pizza right away. You promised.”

“I did.” Pressure built behind his solar plexus. It wasn’t just guilt. It wasn’t just disappointment. How much had Ali been counting on getting together? Mike thought of all their phone conversations, and all the veiled suggestions he had made to do things with him. At the time, he had been feeling out the idea of adoption and picturing himself in the role as dad. Now he saw that Ali may have heard them as promises.

He winced. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt the boy. How on earth was he going to be able to fix this? If he saw Ali, then he would have to see Sarah, too.

“Mike, this doesn’t have to be difficult.” She kept her loving gaze on Ali, not on him. “How does Sunday work for you? You can pick Ali up after church services.”

“Church?” He wasn’t going to be dragged to church again like Sarah had done the last few months before their breakup. He didn’t doubt the presence of God. He just doubted the relevance. And the truth is, he wasn’t a man to get all touchy-feely over something he couldn’t touch or see. He didn’t need it. “I’m not going to attend with you two.”

She held up one hand as if to ward off his argument. Her voice as always was mild. “I said after the service. You two can go out to a nice lunch and have a great afternoon together.”

Oh. He couldn’t object to that. He straightened his shoulders and stared hard at a hairline crack in the concrete. “It’s good of you to let me see him, Sarah.”

“Please don’t feel that way. I know you are a tremendous part of Ali’s life, and you should be. He’s alive because of you. He’s here because of you. You saved him. Can’t you see how grateful I am to you?”

Grateful, huh? He never would have guessed it from the look on her face and the shadows in her eyes. Then again, Sarah Alpert had proven to him that he never had really known her. So it ought to come as no surprise not to be able to guess what was going on with her now. “Ali, you and me are hitting the pizza joint on Sunday. Deal?”

“Deal!” Ali’s grin was back. “Pepperoni is my favorite.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Holding on to his emotions, Mike ruffled the boy’s dark hair and winked. “Come tomorrow, you won’t forget about me and leave church without me, right?”

“Nope. I cross my heart.” Ali made a big cross with his free hand.

The lump in Mike’s throat felt the size of a boulder and he turned away before it could get any bigger. He strode off to his truck, calling his goodbye to the boy over his shoulder.

Driving away from that little kid was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. And Sarah, oh, Sarah. He was hurting more than he could measure and a whole lot more than he would ever admit. He climbed in behind the wheel and backed the truck out into the street.

Ali was waving wildly. Man, it had been great to see the little kid. Mike put the truck in gear and put his heart on neutral. There was Sarah with her furry cat cradled in her arms, looking sadder than he’d ever seen her.

Too bad he was past feeling. He would do what he always did so well—brokenhearted or not—he would carry on. He concentrated on the road until the red and blue blink of the lights had faded from his rearview.

“Sarah? Know what?”

“What?” Laughing, she climbed from her knees and pulled back his covers.

“Dr. Mike’s gonna teach me basketball.”

“Yes, I heard that somewhere before.”

“Oh, from me!” Laughing, Ali dove onto his bed and snuggled in, warm in his flannel jammies.

“Yes, from you, silly.” Her heart swelled. She loved being a foster mom. She prayed that the adoption would work out. She smoothed the covers and tucked the sheet into place. “There. All snug?”

“Yeah.” Ali pulled his Texas bear onto the pillow next to him.

Dr. Mike. Would praises for the man ever end? Probably not. Sarah brushed Ali’s dark bangs from his eyes. The twice-weekly phone calls had hardly fazed her, but now that Mike was back in town—She squeezed her eyes briefly shut. Although it might be hard for her, Mike was important to her boy. She would simply have to deal with it. Somehow.

She turned off the little bedside lamp. She prayed that no nightmares would haunt him tonight. “Sleep well, little one.”

“I’m too happy to sleep.”

“Then you just lie quietly and think about all the good things that happened today.” That usually did the trick. Sarah followed the fall of light to the shadowed hallway.

“There were sure a lot.” Ali sighed, sounding content. In the dark shadows of his cozy room, she saw him give his bear an extra squeeze.

Sweet boy.

“You’re gonna stay close, right, Sarah?”

“Right. I’ll be just out in the living room. Very close.”

“Good.”

She waited until his breathing slowed before she eased down the hall and into the light of the living room. Clean laundry tumbled out of the basket she had left on one of the couches. A stack of papers were on the coffee table, awaiting gold stars and smiley faces. She had so much to do, and where were her thoughts?

On Mike. His eyes had looked almost haunted. He had felt so emotionally remote—more than usual. Something had changed him. Something happened in the desert. Her stomach twisted up so tight she could barely breathe. She sank onto the couch cushion. He might not have a drop of affection left for her, but she could not pretend.

She cared. She would always care about Mike. He had been more than her fiancé. More than the man she wanted to build her dreams with. He had been her best friend. Her confidant. Her soul mate. She could not pretend that seeing him tonight hadn’t shattered her.

Love was a powerful blessing. She pulled two of Ali’s tube socks from the basket and rolled them neatly. She had fallen in love so easily with Mike at first sight. He had been playing Frisbee on the tree-shaded common between their college dormitories with his buddies. The dappled sunlight had found him like grace as he leaped into the air, all powerful man and determination. He snatched the blue disc out of the air and he may as well have been grabbing hold of her heart.

With the breeze in his dark blond hair and laughter in his hazel eyes, she had been rendered speechless. Her library books had slipped out of her hand. He had come to help her and the moment he smiled at her, the world felt right.

Nothing had been right without him. She had to admit that. It was why she had decided to become a foster mom. First with Carlos, who had gone back to his biological mother five months before Ali had come into her life. Maybe part of her decision to foster had been a deep need to fill the emptiness that Mike had left. It was as if her soul knew that no matter how happy her future may be, something would always be missing. Mike would be missing. She would never be completely whole without him.

It was time to face that. She pulled a T-shirt from the basket—an olive-green army shirt that Mike had given Ali—and folded it carefully. Seeing the past and feeling the broken pieces of her dreams with him was not good for her. He had chosen the army over her. He had wanted to be everyone else’s hero but hers. That wound would never stop hurting.

After all this time, her feelings for him were just as strong, if a bit different. She pulled a towel from the laundry and gave it a shake. Clarence wandered in from the kitchen and gave her a rusty purr.

Her life had gone one way. Mike’s had gone another. It wasn’t what she wanted. It wasn’t what she had meant when she had asked him not to extend his tour of duty. She would pray on it tonight and she would trust that the Lord would show her the way.

He hefted the last box from the back of his truck onto his shoulder and hoofed it up the walk. The post was a family neighborhood. The windows up and down the street were squares of light against the pressing darkness, and the colorful glow of Christmas lights blazed joyfully. Only his windows were dark. He was the only house without a single Christmas decoration.

He kept his heart cool and his thoughts on the task at hand. If he wasn’t so good at self-control, he would be thinking about Ali right now and remembering the fun they had putting up those strings of red and blue lights. If he wasn’t a man who prided himself on his unyielding self-discipline, he might be remembering how sad Sarah had looked when he drove away.

He shouldered the door open and stacked the box on top of the others. There. The stack was neat and tidy and relatively out of the way. He gave the door a slight boot, sending it gently closed. The faint light from the kitchen fell through the pass-through into the entry hall, casting just enough to see the empty rooms.

His furniture would come first thing Monday morning. For now, he was content enough just to have a real roof over his head and a place to call his own. After sharing a tent with half a dozen other doctors, this modest little home seemed a luxury.

The adoption papers he had carefully filled out were on the counter. He didn’t look at them as he picked them up and ripped them carefully in half. Just like that, his hopes were gone.

Alone, he crossed to the refrigerator, refusing to listen to the hollow sound of his boots echoing in the empty house. There was no one for him to call. Most of his buddies were either in the Mid East or spending the first night home with their families.

He didn’t mind so much. He’d gotten used to being alone. He yanked open the door and hauled out a can of flavored iced tea. He popped the top and took a long slow slurp. Another luxury. It didn’t seem to hit the spot, though. Maybe because this last tour had put a hole in his soul. Staying connected to Ali had helped mask that some, but now—

Mike shook his head and set the can on the counter. He walked away into the darkness. Sarah was going to adopt him. How could he have guessed that? He thought she was the perfect foster mother—in spite of all their differences he had to be honest about that—but adopt him? Why? She had been set on having her own children, and soon. Wasn’t that the reason she had set down her ultimatum? Why hadn’t she found someone else to walk down the aisle with?

The memory of her shadowed eyes cut him in two. She had avoided looking directly at him. She had talked to him as little as possible. She didn’t seem to care how ruthlessly she had hurt him.

He unrolled his sleeping bag with a hard shake. Yes, that was his breath huffing in the silence. He pressed his hand to his forehead and took a few slow mouthfuls of air. What was he doing? Blaming Sarah wasn’t going to change a thing. He didn’t really think it was her fault to begin with.

She hadn’t loved him enough, but he didn’t blame her for that. Even through his bitterness, he could clearly see she always had the best of intentions. She was pure sweetness with her chocolate cupcakes for dessert and her living-room shelves stuffed with children’s books. She didn’t live in his world. She didn’t understand what he was fighting for day in and day out. That wasn’t her fault.

No, he was angry at himself because he still cared for her. That’s what this anger was. It was distracting him from a whole lot of hurt. His anger was spent.

In the silence of the comfortable bedroom in the pleasant neighborhood on this safe army post, the silence threatened to suffocate him. He could still hear the distant pop of artillery, and beep of monitors from ICU. Exhaustion clung to him. He sank to his knees, alone and lost.

It was going to be a long night.