Just Let Me Love You (23 page)

It may be good for Will. Mom says it’s up to him, and I’m cool with whatever is decided. Will is a responsible kid nowadays.

Crazy, I know. But it’s true. The little shit that used to cause me so much grief now gets good grades, takes extra art classes in high school for college credit, and doesn’t party at all anymore. He tells me his crazy days are behind him, and I believe him. Will left that shit in the past, along with the memories of his ex-girlfriend.

I can’t be sure of how much contact Will still has with Cassie, but I know it’s limited. They must see each other at school from time to time, I assume. Still, last time Will said anything about Cassie it was to tell me she’d gone into rehab last month.

Well, that’s a good thing. I hope she can get her shit together like my brother has done. She’s not a bad girl; she’s just not right for Will.

Sitting in my truck at a stoplight in downtown Harmony Creek, I realize I’m utterly and completely lost in my thoughts when someone behind me beeps to alert me the light has turned green.

“Okay, okay,” I mumble under my breath as I get my truck moving. “I’m going.”

I drive another block then hang a right at the flower shop. Today is Valentine’s Day and I have to take care of my girl. She loves flowers, so I plan to pick up two dozen red roses.

Ten minutes later, with my task complete, I head home to the farmhouse.

It’s starting to get dark, even though it’s only a little after six. Damn short winter days. In any case, Kay should be home from school by now. I wouldn’t be surprised to find her in the kitchen, making me a special dinner.

When she first asked me what I wanted for Valentine’s Day, I said, “Kay, you don’t have to get me anything. Your love is more than enough.”

However, I knew she’d want to do something special for me. So, when she pressed I told her I’d be happy with my favorite dinner—beef stew. Nothing like meat and potatoes—made with love—on a cold winter’s day.

Well, whatever happens today, I’ve already decided I’m taking Kay out for a nice, fancy candlelight dinner tomorrow night. It won’t be as busy since the day after Valentine’s Day never is. And, besides, we’ll both be more alert after a restful Friday night sleep with no work the next day.

Speaking of sleep, Kay’s been so tired this past week. I hope she’s not coming down with anything.

When I return home, sure enough, Kay has dinner waiting for me. And an hour later I am pushing my chair back from the dining room table, having finished a wonderful Valentine’s Day meal.

“That was delicious,” I tell Kay with a smile.

She smiles back at me from across the table. “I’m glad you liked it, Chase.”

Kay’s still smiling—not to mention she’s been kind of quiet throughout dinner—so I know she must have something more planned, some sort of a surprise beyond the dinner.

“What are you up to?” I ask. “I know something more is on the agenda.”

“You got that right,” she says, chuckling as she stands. Beckoning for me to follow, she adds, “Come on, Chase; come and get your real Valentine’s Day surprise.”

As she leads me to the hall and up the stairs, I assume Kay is taking me to the bedroom for some early-evening Valentine’s Day sex. And, with that thought in mind, when we reach the landing at the top of the stairs, I spin her to me, lean down, and kiss her with all I’ve got.

“Mmm,” she mutters against my lips when I slow things down. “What was that for?”

“Well, not that I need a reason,” I reply, leaning back, “but you are looking rather hot right now. I couldn’t resist.”

Kay laughs. “Chase.” She shakes her head, but her eyes are filled with love.

Kay is wearing a little red dress, and I skim my hands over her full breasts, stopping briefly to ply her sensitive nipples through the soft, velvety material.

“Mmm…” She leans into me, breathless already even though my hands are resting at her hips now.

“Come,” I tell her, nudging her toward the bedroom.

But she stops me. “I want to be with you, Chase. I do, but not yet.” I raise a brow, and she says, “I have something I want to show you first.”

I stop groping my wife—for now. “Now you have me curious as hell,” I confess.

With her hand on my chest, she pats me once and says, “Good. But you don’t have to wait any longer to see this surprise. Come on, let’s go to our room.”

She turns and we walk toward our bedroom, while I am still wondering what this woman is up to.

At the door, she stops again and insists I close my eyes.

“Okay, okay,” I say as I comply.

With my eyes closed, I allow Kay to lead me across the threshold.

She stops when we’re partway in the bedroom and whispers, “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

I do exactly that and, as I look around, I mouth, “Wow, amazing.”

I am amazed, too. Our room is lit by soft candlelight and it’s absolutely beautiful. But there’s more…

At least a dozen red balloons are floating around the room. Some are stuck to the ceiling, their shiny ribbons dangling to the floor, shimmering in the glow of all the candles. And others are just drifting by.

Assuming the festive-looking room in and of itself is my surprise, I say to Kay, “This is really cool. I like it.” I step around the dangling ribbons, touching a few balloons as I go. “It definitely looks like Valentine’s Day with all the red.”

Kay says softly, “I chose red balloons for another reason, Chase.”

I give her a small smile. “Because of the one from the fair?”

She nods. “Yes.”

I told Kay a long time ago about the red balloon my parents once bought for me at a fair when I was a kid. I thought that balloon was special, that it symbolized hope. But after they gave it to me, I let it go.

In a way, I lost my hope that day.

Kay tried once before to give me my hope back, at the church carnival last summer. But boy, did I fuck it up by not telling her beforehand what had happened between me and Missy. That night, when Kay heard me and Missy arguing at the bake sale booth, she learned the truth.

And that day, she let
her
hope go.

But now, we have all our lost hope back. These balloons symbolize not only my hope, but Kay’s, as well.

“We’ll never again let go of our hope,” I say fervently, turning to her.

“Never,” she agrees. She touches my arm and adds, “That’s not all, though. There’s more, Chase.”

“More?” I eye her questioningly. “What? There’s more to my surprise?”

“Yes.”

Kay pulls down one of the red balloons and hands it to me. I can see there’s something in it, and I ask, “Napkins?” as I raise a brow.

She hands me a straight pin. “Pop it and see. It’s part of the rest of your surprise.”

I thought the balloons drifting around the room were cool, but if each one holds something, some memento from our past. Well, hell, that’s even better.

I pop the first balloon and pull out two napkins. The first is a maroon napkin from our wedding reception at the diner. “Nice,” I say as I turn it in my hands. “Now I know why you were placing it in your clutch.”

“Yep, now you know.”

The second napkin turns out to be a plain one from the diner, and I stare down at it, confused.

“It’s from one of our first lunches,” Kay explains, touching my arm. “I saved it and packed it away a long time ago. I wanted to have a reminder of our very first days together.”

“I love it,” I tell Kay, rubbing at the worn edges of the plain napkin, and then the smooth newness of the maroon one. “I’m glad you saved both.”

“This way,” she says quietly, “we can always look back. These are our memories, Chase.”

“So”—I look up and gesture to all the remaining balloons—“each and every one is filled with a memory?”

“Memories, yes,” she replies, looking a little sly. “And…well, more.”

“Hmm,” I reply. “This is very creative, babe.”

She shrugs. “Well, since I can’t do art like you, I had to think of another way to express my creative side. I wanted to make your surprise artistic in some way, especially since you’re so artistic and I knew you’d appreciate the gesture.”

I’m touched, and I tell her, “That’s sweet of you, babe.” And then I ask, “So, what kind of art is this, then?”

I’m curious to find out how Kay views what she’s created.

“It’s conceptual,” she tells me. “The things inside each balloon represent our past. Well, except for one.” She smiles, and says, “One represents our future.”

Hmm, I wonder what she could have in the balloon representing our future
. But I soon find out I have to go through the past ones first.

Kay hands me another balloon. “Pop it,” she says, smiling.

I do as she asks.

Pop!

This balloon holds a wrapper from a wedge of brie.

I laugh.

Another balloon…
Pop!

This one holds a tiny piece of baguette.

Taking a bite, I utter, “Delicious.”

The balloon-popping continues, and I’m rewarded with more surprises.

Pop!

There’s a tiny metal Eiffel Tower.

Pop!

I find oil pastels in the next balloon. I hold one of the colorful sticks up and say, “Hey, I needed these colors.”

“I know,” Kay replies, nudging me. “That’s why I picked those particular ones.”

“Aha.”

Pop!

I find the scorecard from when we went mini-golfing last June, when I really got Kay going with my innuendo-laden words.

“I almost jumped you that night,” she tells me.

“Shit, really?” I raise a brow, and she nods. “You should have,” I add.

Sweet girl laughs. “Yeah, maybe, Chase, maybe I should have. But it kind of worked out okay, right?”

“It sure did.”

Pop!

Ticket stubs from the drive-in movie we went to with Will and Cassie.

And then, a few more pops, and a few more mementos from our past.

When I reach for the final balloon, I eye it curiously. This is the last balloon, so it must be the one holding something representative of our future.

Huh
. I just can’t figure out why it looks the way it does, unlike any of the others I’ve popped thus far.

“Uh, Kay,” I begin. “I hate to spoil anything, but I think this balloon is defective.”

“It’s not defective, Chase. Just look more closely.”

I do as she asks. “Babe, there’s a little balloon inside the big balloon. Is it supposed to be like that?”

Kay steps in front of me and lowers the doubled balloon so that it hovers between us.

“Yes, Chase,” she says. “It’s supposed to be like that.” She takes the pin from my hand when I raise it up. “And you aren’t supposed to pop
this
one.”

“Okay,” I say slowly. I am confused as hell as to what a balloon inside another balloon could possibly mean.

And then it hits me.

“Holy shit, Kay! Does this mean what I think it does?”

“Yes, Chase.” Kay is looking at me with tears in her eyes, happy tears. “We’re going to have a baby.”

Kay

I
t is a beautiful October day, and I’m in the back of the farmhouse, rocking on the swing out on the porch. Missy is with me, leaning on the rail, and Chase and Nick are inside, talking business in the kitchen.

“Ugh, I’m as big as a house,” I lament as I try to reach for a glass of water on the floorboards of the porch.

Missy leans down and helps me retrieve my water. “It won’t be long now, Kay,” she assures me, straightening. “You’ve hit the home stretch.”

A baby cries from inside the house, and Missy is at the door in a heartbeat.

“That little girl has you and Nick wrapped around her finger,” I say, laughing.

Before Missy has a chance to head inside to see what her four-month-old daughter wants, Nick calls out, “She’s fine, Miss. I got her.”

I take a drink of water, lower the glass, and say, “Nick sure is good with the baby. Fatherhood suits him.”

Sitting down next to me on the swing, Missy says, “Yeah, he is amazing. Chase is going to be a great dad, too. He’s already so protective of you. I can’t even imagine how crazy he’ll be once the baby is born.”

Rubbing my huge belly, I agree. “Chase will be a wonderful dad, I’m sure.”

Missy peers down at my hand on my stomach. “By the way, I still can’t believe you don’t want to know the sex ahead of time.”

“Chase and I agreed we want to be surprised,” I tell Missy for about the hundredth time.

It’s true. We don’t have a preference. Boy or girl—as long as the baby is healthy we’ll be happy.

Suddenly, as I’m feeling all maternal, a contraction hits. I’ve had a few false starts, but this one feels like it could be the real deal.

“Ow.” I wince.

And then another hits…and another.

“Uh, Missy,” I say nervously. “Can you get Chase for me?”

Missy has just been through this, and she jumps to her feet, a knowing look in her eyes. “Oh, my God, Kay, it’s time, isn’t it?”

“I think so,” I reply.

Missy goes into full action-mode. “Chase,” she yells into the kitchen. “Quick. You need to get out here, like,
now
! Your wife is in labor.”

That sure gets his attention. Chase is out the door and on the porch in no time. My sweet husband, this is the first time I’ve ever seen him in a true panic.