Package Deal (32 page)

In the last few days, she’d learned a lot about life. She’d learned people were only human, and humans made mistakes, like Jill had with Ken, and Kelly had when she turned against Steve, the man she loved. It’d been a long time since she’d allowed herself to even think those words—
the man she loved
—but now she realized saying those words wouldn’t shatter her world. It was okay. No lightning bolts ripped the sky open, no earthquakes split the ground, and nothing really changed except her. She wasn’t shaking or withdrawing. She didn’t need a candy cigarette or a real one. That was finally over, too.

Kelly loved Steve. She’d known it for a while, but the past week without him had been unbearable. Now, acknowledging the hurt she’d caused him, she understood it was up to her to heal things. In the past, she hadn’t known how to heal herself, much less anyone else, but in the last few days—with Connie’s help and Jill’s confession—she thought she’d found the key. Forgiving.

At Robby’s grave, the day before leaving San Francisco, Kelly had forgiven him for leaving her, and more recently, she’d forgiven Jill. Both times she’d been left with a sense of belonging again—a warm, fuzzy feeling replacing the icy grip of pain and regret squeezing her heart. Maybe, after she settled the legal issues with Ken, she could even learn to forgive
him
for his failings. That was going to be a tough one.

She took the freeway exit and cruised along Gateway Boulevard. On the left, the lights of the dollar movie marquis caught her eye.
Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs
was showing. Maybe she’d take Lacy to see it next weekend.

Her gaze shifted to the crowd spilling out of the theater doors. She slowed to five mph, letting several pedestrians straggle across the street in front of her. A small group of young girls, chaperoned by a weary mom, burst from the theater giggling and squealing. Behind them, towering two heads above them, Kelly spotted Steve and another man. Struggling with her emotions, her fingers trembled where she gripped the steering wheel.

Stopped in the middle of the street, Kelly’s eyes were riveted on Steve and his friend.
Funny eyes—
Lacy’s description of Gary Benson.

Although her window was rolled down, Kelly couldn’t hear their conversation over all the chatter, but after one look at Steve’s fishing buddy, she wanted to slap herself in the head. She was a total fool.

Gary Benson had Down syndrome. He had the classic round face, slightly open mouth and almond shaped eyes and, as she watched the tenderness shared between the two men of such differing intellects, she knew Gary also had the classic Down syndrome personality, loving and affectionate.

When the crosswalk cleared, she changed lanes and pulled away from the theater. How could she have ever doubted Steve? She’d been so worried he might not watch Lacy closely enough, and yet, although her car had been right in front of him, Steve’s attention had been so trained on Gary he hadn’t even noticed her.

Shame flushed her cheeks. How could she have doubted him? She hadn’t trusted him with her daughter yet here he was at a kid’s movie with a grown man with Down syndrome. Gary Benson. God, was there any way she would ever live this down?

She’d taken the wrong track somewhere in her life. She’d grown cold and distrusting and blamed it on everyone but herself. Steve had been right. The temperature probably
had
dropped on the peninsula since her arrival. She hoped the citrus was still salvageable.

She groaned, wanting to get home and crawl under a large piece of furniture. She deserved to be turned into a toad.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

S
teve headed along the river road, slowing in front of his property, waiting for a break in traffic. He had to drop Gary off next door.

“Did you enjoy the movie, Gary?”

“Oh, yeah. I sure did. I like the sloth.” Gary’s full face and his almond eyes were alight with humor. “He’s crazy. He makes me laugh.”

“I think all the characters are funny.”

“Yeah. Not like the mean witch in
Snow White
.” Gary cringed. “She scared me.”

Steve patted Gary’s arm, reassuring him. “She scared me, too.”

He grinned at Gary, relieved when the other man’s features melted back into a smile. Gary’s imagination could be very real to him. Steve remembered how Gary had wept when he’d taken him to see
Bambi
, when Disney returned it to the theaters a few years ago. He’d told Gary over and over it was just a movie, it wasn’t real.

Gary had said, “I know,” in a child’s voice, gazing affectionately at his neighbor and best friend—his only friend. Steve knew all kids mingled fantasy with reality in their minds, and he had to remind himself Gary was like a small child in many ways even though he would be thirty-eight next month.

Steve turned down Gary’s driveway, let him out and waved goodbye, then turned around and drove back up to the road. The darkness settled around him, the humidity in the air heavy with the moist, earthy scent of summer.

He missed Kelly. He had hoped for so much more with her, but in the end she had revealed herself as the ice mountain he’d met at Murphy’s. Cold and unconquerable McKinley. It had already been almost a week since she’d called the police on him, and although it had taken great effort, he hadn’t called her, knowing he could never live with that kind of distrust. He deserved better. Like so many theories, not seeing her again had sounded great, but convincing his body and mind was another reality altogether. Ice or not, he longed to hold her again.

He gave his head a shake, tossing off her image. A steady stream of headlights trailed past him. Was he ever going to get to turn left? Where were all the cars coming from?

He’d been doing pretty well until this morning, when he nearly walked into Kelly outside Ground Control following the shuttle launch. One of NASA’s press liaisons had been fielding questions from Kelly and several other reporters from around the state. With the sting of her distrust so fresh, he hung back from the crowd, feeling ill prepared to face her so soon. Seeing her had been difficult enough without having to pretend nothing had happened between them, making an already painful moment even more uncomfortable.

He remained on the stairs, watching her and listening as she probed for answers concerning the future of the shuttle program to the NASA official. She was astute and informed, and she appeared confident and capable, vibrant and inquisitive. She was in her element, and a darned good reporter.

This was a new side of Kelly—a side Steve had never seen before. He knew too well the soft, stubborn, vulnerable side of her. Until this morning, Kelly the reporter had been hearsay, but now the sum of the two parts made Kelly Pearson twice the woman she already was in his eyes.

Twice the woman. Twice the loss.

Steve reached over and switched on the radio, anything to break the nonproductive chain of his thoughts. An 80’s rock band claimed the still night air. Backed by a steady drumbeat—a heartbeat—the lead singer, Sting, promised his ex-lover “every move you make, I’ll be watching you.”

Steve punched the buttons on the radio in an effort to find something to distract him, instead of fuel his thoughts of Kelly. He wondered how long it would be before he could look at a phone or listen to the radio and not want to call her. Or, look at every passing Toyota in hopes of seeing her behind the wheel. They’d spent one intimate week together, but now, the heat of the memory threatened to start a brush fire in his front yard. It was no use. Once again, his thoughts flooded with sensuous swatches of their lovemaking, an intimate collage of swollen lips, his own husky sighs, a trail of apparel strewn from her living room to her bed, half empty glasses of wine, and an open window cooling their heated flesh.

Steve moaned and swore at the next car as it passed by. “Move your dammed vehicle! You shouldn’t even have a driver’s license!” He redirected
his thoughts before the discomfort
in his loins matched the discomfort in his heart.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

A
s Steve’s Jeep rounded the heavily foliaged curve at the end of the drive, the sight of Kelly’s car beneath the carport gave him a jolt. A rush of adrenaline spiraled his hopes, and if it could have, his heart would have jumped from his chest. His more logical side warned him of the danger of expecting too much. Maybe she’d left something at the house and was simply there to get it back.

He climbed out of the Jeep, scanned
the yard and the front of the house, and not seeing her, walked around the side toward the back. The yard was dark, but
snatches of
moonlight flickering through the gnarled branches of the old oak trees revealed movement in the hammock on the screened-in porch. It wasn’t Kelly, and as he got closer he spied Lacy, curled beneath her mother’s sweater, a tattered stuffed animal clutched to her chest while she slept. Something paternal tightened around Steve’s heart, and for a moment he hated Kelly for not trusting him, for tearing them apart.

He moved away from the porch and scoured the yard again, his emotions running high, then low, then high again. Emotional rollercoaster. Why was she there? Was it just to torment him? She knew
how he felt about her, and still, she hadn’t trusted him any more than she would have trusted a panhandler asking for spare change.

He spotted her, and his jaw tightened. She stood at the end of the dock where it stretched into the river. A lump formed in his throat, the pain of rejection all too fresh.

He approached her with caution.

***

Facing the water, Kelly tensed at the sound of Steve’s footsteps on the dock. It was late, the dock area dark. Not really knowing what she would say or how he would respond, she kept her eyes on the water where it flowed past the dock. She only knew she’d made one of the biggest mistakes in her life.

After seeing him, she’d hurried to Connie’s and picked up Lacy, who like a typical kid, hadn’t cracked an eyelid between Connie’s house and Steve’s hammock. Kelly had barely beaten Steve home, and her heart still raced from her quick decision to go to him and the frantic pace that had followed.

She wanted—no needed—Steve to forgive her, something she had only recently learned to do herself. She had been unfair to him, and as his footsteps sounded nearer on the planks behind her, she weighed her chances of being forgiven. Figuring she’d already lost him, she really had nothing left to lose by being here.

When he was close enough he could no longer be ignored, Kelly turned to face him as he closed the gap between them. Overhead, a determined moon fought a renegade band of gypsy clouds while a host of raucous crickets protested the end of the cool season. Kelly longed for peace, to feel an integral part of the natural flow around her, and she sensed the best start was in Steve’s arms. If only he could forgive her one more time, although she wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.

***

Steve approached her with hesitancy, a mixture of anticipation and dread gathering inside his chest. When he saw her face, pale and beautiful in the moonlight, his throat closed up, strangling him with a knot of love and hate, leaving him speechless. He missed her so much. He had spent the last week struggling with his own pride, refusing to give in and call her and settle for whatever she was able to give him. Now, he wanted to hold her, breathe in her spicy scent, drag his fingers through her rich black hair, and taste her lips against his own. But he had too much self-respect and knew he deserved more. He wanted a permanent relationship with a full commitment and all that went with it. He wanted a wife and a family.

They stood two feet apart, but neither spoke.

***

Kelly sensed his restraint, not liking it, but understanding it. He’d given without receiving, and now, if she wanted him back, she would have to convince him she was not just willing, but capable of changing.

“Steve, I know it’s late…” She searched for the right words, words that might miraculously close the rift between them.

She reached out, taking his hand and tugging him toward the roughly hewn bench built into the dock.