Chapter Fourteen
“Come on, Erin,” Aimee urged. “It’s December. Liven up a little, would you?”
“I’m alive.” Which was stretching the truth. Oh, she functioned day to day and had for the past several weeks, since she’d last seen Brand. The emotional pain had been intolerable in the beginning, but, as expected, the intensity had lessened. She’d counted on being much better by now, however.
Severing the relationship with Brand was what she wanted, she reminded herself. Marrying Brand would have been the biggest mistake of her life. It was amazing how many times a day she was forced to remind herself of that.
“How about doing some Christmas shopping after work?” Aimee suggested.
“Thanks anyway, but I finished mine last week.” Erin appreciated the offer, but try as she would, she couldn’t muster much enthusiasm for the holidays. The crowds irritated her, and she hated being impatient and grumpy when everyone around her was filled with good cheer.
Bah, humbug! Erin had always loved the holidays.
As hard as she tried not to, she couldn’t help wondering about Brand. Was he still in Hawaii? Had he started dating? Was he happy?
By force of will, Erin managed to avoid thoughts of him during the day. Every time her mind turned to the Hawaii-based lieutenant, she immediately focussed on another subject. World peace. Jalapeño jelly. Scissors. Anything and everything but Brand.
It was later, when she was about to slip into the welcome void of sleep, that she found herself most vulnerable. She’d be wandering between the two worlds when Brand would casually stroll into her mind.
He didn’t speak; not once had he uttered a word. He just stood there, straight and tall, dressed in his uniform. Proud. Strong. Earnest.
Erin tried to make his image disappear. More than once she’d sat bolt upright in bed and demanded that he clear out of her mind. He always did, without question, but when she lay back down, she always regretted that he was gone.
There had been one improvement, if she could call it that. The episodes when she woke in the middle of the night weeping for no apparent reason had passed. But it was damn little comfort for all the lonely days and nights those unexplained bouts had spawned.
Erin and Aimee walked out of the office together. The air was filled with a joyous holiday flavor. Bells chimed at every street corner. Storefronts were decorated with large swags of evergreen draped above doorways, stretching from one business to the other. Huge red plastic bells adorned streetlights. Erin walked past it all, barely noticing.
“Call me if you change your mind,” Aimee said before heading in the opposite direction.
“I will, thanks.” But Erin already had her plans for the evening. She was going home, cuddling up in front of the television and mindlessly viewing situation comedies until it was bedtime. It wasn’t exciting, nor was it inspiring, but a quiet dinner and television were the only things she could effectively deal with that night. After months of teaching sessions on self-acceptance and being kind to oneself, Erin was determined to follow her own advice.
Erin’s mail contained three Christmas cards. The first was from Terry, an old college friend. Terry had married the previous year, and her printed Christmas letter shared the happy news of her pregnancy.
“Terry with a baby,” Erin mused aloud, remembering distinctly how they’d both been certain they were destined to remain single the rest of their natural lives.
The second card was from Marilyn. Erin read her brief note with interest. The older woman was forming friendships and had attended a dance with a woman friend who had been widowed several years earlier. Marilyn’s note ended with the happy news that she’d danced three times. She claimed she felt more like a wallflower than like Cinderella, but she was ready to attend another dance the following week.
The third Christmas card was from her parents. Erin read over the greeting and was pleased to note that her father had included a short typed sheet along with her mother’s much thicker letter. She read her father’s letter first.
Dear Erin,
Happy holidays. Your mother and I mailed off a package to you this afternoon, which should arrive in plenty of time for Christmas. I wish we could be together, but that’s what happens when kids grow up and leave home. Your mother and I are going to miss being with you this year.
I don’t have much news. Your mother will tell you everything that’s up with your brother and sister. They’re well and happy, and that’s all that counts.
Now what’s this I hear about you putting your house up for sale? I remember when you bought it you claimed you were going to live there for the next thirty years. You’ve only been there two years. I’m afraid you’ve got more navy blood in you than you realize.
The last bit of information may come as something of a shock. I thought about letting you hear it from someone else but decided that would be cruel. I heard through the grapevine Brand Davis is engaged to Catherine Fredrickson. Apparently they’ve been friends for a long time. I’m sorry if this news hurts you, baby, but I thought you’d want to know.
Have a good time opening up that box of goodies your mother and I mailed.
Love,
Dad
Erin didn’t feel anything. Nothing whatsoever. So Brand was marrying Catherine. It was what Erin herself had suggested months earlier. He certainly hadn’t allowed any grass to grow under his feet, she mused somewhat bitterly.
A numbing pain took hold and, deciding to ignore it, Erin set aside the mail and fixed herself a dinner consisting of soup and a turkey sandwich. When she finished, she stared at the bowl and plate and decided she couldn’t force herself to eat it. Watching television had lost its appeal, too.
Being alone felt intolerable, and she decided to go for a drive. Mingling with other people seemed important all of a sudden. She wandered through a small shopping complex close to her house, bought a couple of cards at the Hallmark store and strolled back to the parking lot.
“Brand is marrying Catherine,” she said aloud in the confines of her car as she drove home. “More than anything, I want him to be happy.” She had to say it aloud to remind herself that it was true.
Erin drove past the street where she should have turned off, but for some unknown reason she continued driving, her destination unclear.
An hour passed, and when she found herself close to Aimee’s she decided her subconscious was telling her she needed to talk over Brand’s engagement with her best friend.
Although Aimee’s car was parked in front of her house, she didn’t answer the doorbell for several minutes. When she did appear, she was dressed in her housecoat and slippers.
“Erin?” she cried after opening the door. “What are you doing here? Good grief, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Come on in.” She skillfully steered her through the living room and into the kitchen.
It seemed to Erin that Aimee didn’t want her in the living room, which was preposterous, but in case she was arriving at a bad time she asked, “Should I come back later?”
“Of course not,” Aimee returned quickly.
A little too quickly, Erin thought. “You look like you were taking a bath.”
“No…no.”
Erin’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Then why are you wearing a robe?” It wasn’t anywhere near time for bed.
Aimee glanced down at the purple velvet as if she’d never seen it before. “Ah…”
“Aimee,” Erin whispered heatedly. A sinking feeling attacked the pit of her stomach, and she looked around. “Have you got a man in your bedroom?”
The dedicated social worker squeezed her eyes closed and nodded several times.
“Why didn’t you say something?” Erin felt like a complete idiot. She wanted to crawl under the carpet and hide.
“I couldn’t say anything,” Aimee protested at length. “You wouldn’t drop by unexpectedly like this unless it was something important. One look at you, and I knew you were upset.”
“I’m more upset now than I was before I arrived. It would have been better if you hadn’t answered the door.”
“May I remind you that you’re my best friend,” Aimee countered heatedly, although they both continued to whisper in an effort not to be overheard by the mystery man in Aimee’s bedroom.
Erin couldn’t be more surprised by her friend’s actions had she announced she was considering entering a convent. To the best of Erin’s knowledge, Aimee had never fooled around. She’d been asked out on a date once or twice but had always declined, claiming she wasn’t ready for the singles scene just yet.
It wouldn’t be the first time Aimee had surprised her, but until now the surprises had all been pleasant ones. Her friend’s divorce was only days from being finalized. Perhaps the pain of what was happening between her and Steve had led her friend into an act completely out of character.
For some time now, Erin had sensed that something was developing in Aimee’s life, but she wouldn’t have suspected for the world that it was another man. Aimee had given up smoking and was calmer than she had been a few months earlier. Erin had attributed the changes to part of the healing process.
“It’s not what you’re thinking,” Aimee muttered, chastising Erin with a single look. She glanced over her shoulder. “Steve, kindly come out here and save my reputation.”
“Steve?” Erin repeated, stunned. “You and Steve? You’re divorcing him, remember?”
“Yes, me and Steve,” Aimee confirmed. “Steve,” she called a second time.
“Honey, if I come out now, I may save your reputation, but it sure as hell will ruin mine.”
Aimee actually blushed. Erin couldn’t believe it. Her best friend’s cheeks went a bright shade of pink.
“Steve?” Erin repeated Aimee’s husband’s name, still unable to believe what she was hearing.
Aimee nodded, then walked over to the kitchen counter and assembled a pot of coffee.
“You and Steve are…” Erin motioned with her hand, as if that would complete the sentence for her. A tardy smile quivered at the corners of her mouth. “When did all this get started?”
“Will you kindly quit looking at me like you’re going to burst out laughing?”
“I can’t help it. The last time you mentioned Steve’s name it was to claim he was involved with another woman. What about the white car parked outside his apartment? You were convinced he wore that ugly green tie to the settlement hearing to irritate you, and—”
“That was before,” Aimee reminded her. “That car belonged to his brother, and hell, I should have known better. I was eager to leap to all the wrong conclusions.”
“As I recall, you two were finished, and you couldn’t wait to sign the final papers.”
“We still might.”
“What?” Aimee was certainly full of shocking surprises this evening.
“We were talking about it earlier. It might be wise to start on fresh ground—bury the past, so to speak. We haven’t decided yet, but we’re leaning toward staying married for…for a couple of reasons.”
“But what happened to change everything?”
A slow, almost silly smile lit up Aimee’s eyes. “About a month ago—”
“A month?” Erin echoed in strained disbelief. It was hard to imagine that she hadn’t suspected something earlier. The two were best friends, and Erin felt she really knew Aimee. “You two have been chummy for a month?”
“Longer, actually,” Aimee admitted, keeping her voice low. “Steve called about six weeks ago, needing to come over to the house and pick up some things. The atmosphere was cool between us then, to say the least. We arranged a time suitable to us both. I wasn’t keen on being here alone with him, but someone had to be here. I didn’t trust him not to take more than what he’d come for, and so I gritted my teeth and met him myself.”
“You should have asked me.” As matters had turned out, Erin was grateful her friend hadn’t.
“I know,” Aimee agreed, “but it was shortly after Brand left, and you were still so raw. I didn’t want to burden you with my problems.”
“We’ve been burdening each other for a good long time. But go on. I’m dying to find out what happened.”
Aimee smiled. It was the same silly smile as before. “It got worse before it got better. Actually, it got a whole lot worse. Steve arrived, and we got in this huge fight about a light fixture, of all things. I told him he could have the stupid thing. He claimed he didn’t want it, but I refused to let that pass. He was still arguing with me when I dragged out the chair and started to remove it from the wall.”
“Aimee!”
“I know, I know. My expertise doesn’t involve anything electrical, which Steve took delight in reminding me. At the moment, I think, he was hoping I’d electrocute myself. Fortunately, I fell before that happened.”
“You fell?”
“Conveniently into Steve’s arms, and we both went crashing to the floor. I was furious and outraged and blamed him. I started listing his legion of faults, and he kissed me just to shut me up so he could see if I’d been hurt.”
The picture that formed in Erin’s mind was a wildly romantic one. Aimee hopping mad, and Steve more interested in making sure she hadn’t been hurt in the fall than in listening to her tirade.
“One thing led to another, and before we knew it we were in bed together.”
“Oh, Aimee that’s so romantic.”
“Romantic, nothing. I was furious, claiming he’d seduced me. Steve adamantly denied it and said I was the one who’d seduced him. Before the night was over, we’d seduced each other a second time. Both of us were more than a little chagrined over what happened. Steve left the following morning without taking any of the things he claimed he needed so badly. I called him the next day, and he returned for the items…only he ended up spending the night again.”
“But what about everything that led up to the divorce? You were miserable together. Remember?”
“Nothing’s really changed,” Aimee explained. “Only our attitude has. We’re committed to working out our problems. Steve’s willing to see a counselor. In fact, he’s the one who suggested it.”
“So you’ve talked everything out?”
“We talked, among other things,” Steve inserted as he walked into the kitchen. Standing behind Aimee, he slipped his arms around her waist and cuddled her close. “Should we tell her?” he asked his wife.
“Nothing’s for sure yet,” Aimee said, twisting her head around to look up at him.
“I’m sure of it.”
Erin hadn’t a clue what the two were discussing. “Tell me what?”
“Aimee’s pregnant. At least we think she is.”
“Steve, I haven’t been to the doctor yet. You can’t go around announcing it until I’ve been in to see Dr. Larson.”
“All those pregnancy test kits you bought claim you are. That’s good enough for me.” He broke away from his wife and strutted around the kitchen in a walk that would have done a rooster proud.
Delight brightened Aimee’s eyes as she held out her hands to Erin. “After ten years. I can’t believe it. We tried so hard and for so long.” Her face broke into an eager smile. “Oh, Erin, I’m going to have a baby.”
The two gripped hands, and Erin felt tears of shared happiness fill her eyes.
“Hey, you two, kindly give credit where credit is due.” A light shone in Steven’s eyes, one that had been decidedly missing the other times Erin had seen him.
“I couldn’t be happier for the two of you,” Erin said, sincerely meaning every word, but at the same time the pain she felt knowing Brand was marrying Catherine felt like a heavy chain tightening around her heart. First Terry, and now Aimee.
“You didn’t come over here because you suspected anything was developing between Steve and me,” Aimee reminded her, scooting out a chair at the table. By now the coffee had brewed, and Aimee automatically brought down mugs.
Steve kissed his wife’s cheek. “I’ll leave you two to talk,” he said, and smiled warmly at Erin before returning to the living room.
“Brand’s engaged,” Erin announced, her voice trembling slightly. “My dad wrote and told me. He claimed it was better I hear the news from him than someone else.”
“Oh, Erin, I’m so sorry.”
“What’s to be sorry about?” she asked with a shaky laugh. “If marrying Catherine is what it takes to make Brand happy, then why should I feel bad?”
“I know.”
Aimee was quiet for a moment. “Have you given any more thought to what I said all those weeks ago about having our jobs taint our views on marriage?”
Erin hadn’t. She’d been sifting through so much emotion and pain that she’d filed her friend’s thoughts away in the farthest corner of her mind. “Not really.”
“Then do. Not all marriages end in misery and heartache.”
“It sometimes seems that way.”
“I know,” Aimee was quick to agree. “Think about it, Erin. You haven’t been at this job long enough to gain perspective yet. That comes with time. I fell into that same trap myself.
“There are plenty of good marriages out there that work because the two people involved are prepared to do whatever they have to to see that it does.”
Erin drew in a deep breath. “It’s too late now for Brand and me.”
“That’s what I thought,” Aimee reminded her.
“I want Brand to marry Catherine,” Erin murmured, telling the biggest lie of her life. “They’re perfect together…I said so from the first.”
* * *
A Christmas card to Brand wouldn’t hurt, Erin decided later. One with a brief note of congratulations. It took her nearly three days to compose the few lines.
Merry Christmas. I always claimed you and Catherine were perfect together. Now Dad tells me he heard through the grapevine that the two of you have set the big date. Congratulations.
I honestly mean that. I wish you only the best. You deserve it.
Erin
P.S. Neal and I are getting along famously.
Neal, Brand mused, reading over the short message a second time. He didn’t know what tricks Erin was up to now, but he wasn’t in the mood for it. He’d put her out of his life, and he was managing nicely.
“Who the hell are you kidding?” he asked out loud.
“You say something?” Romano asked.
“Nothing that concerns you,” Brand barked. “Who the hell leaked out information about me and Catherine?”
“What kind of information?”
“That we’re marrying.”
“Hell, I don’t know who’d say anything. Is it true?”
Brand answered that with a single intense look.
“Hey, don’t get mad at me. I was just asking.” Alex scooted away from his desk. “What’s with you today, anyway?”
Brand debated on whether he’d let his friend know or not, then decided he owed everyone around him an explanation. He hadn’t been the best company the past few weeks. “I got a Christmas card from Erin.”
Romano responded with a low whistle. “No wonder you’ve been acting like a wounded bear all day. What’d she have to say?”
“Congratulations to me and Cath,” he answered with a low snicker.
“You going to write and let her know the truth?”
“No,” Brand answered without hesitating. If Erin wanted to believe he was marrying Catherine, he’d let her.
“I take it you don’t plan on looking her up next week, either?”
“Hell, no.” Brand had cursed the assignment that was taking him into Seattle. The timing couldn’t have been worse. Two months, and he was only now getting to the point that he could go a small portion of the day without dwelling on the situation between him and Erin. He wasn’t about to set himself up for more pain. He’d had all he could take.
Brand altered that decision, however, shortly after he checked into the Seattle hotel. He had a rental car, and with time to kill he decided it wouldn’t hurt to swing past Erin’s house. If luck was with him, he might catch a glimpse of her.
Luck, however, hadn’t exactly been tossing charms his way lately, he was quick to note.
“You’re acting like a lovesick fool,” he told himself as he exited from the freeway and climbed the twisting roadway that led to West Seattle. “Why the hell shouldn’t you?” He asked himself next. “You’ve been a lovesick fool from the moment you met Erin MacNamera.”
By the time he was on the side street that led to her house, Brand was having third and fourth thoughts. They vanished the minute he saw the For Sale sign.
He waited until the blazing anger that raged through him had dissipated enough for him to think clearly. When it had, he stepped out of the car and marched to her front door and rapped hard against the wooden structure.
She took her sweet time answering. Her complexion went pale when she saw him, and his name was only a voiceless movement of her lips.
“What’s that For Sale sign doing on the front lawn?” he demanded.
Erin looked up at him as if she were sorely tempted to reach out and touch him to be sure he wasn’t a figment of her imagination.
“The For Sale sign,” he repeated harshly, pointing to it in case she wasn’t aware it was there.
“I’m selling the house,” she whispered, then blinked twice. “What are you doing here?”
* * *
“I’m on assignment. I want to know why the hell you’re moving.”
“It’s…well, it’s not easy to explain.”
She stepped aside for him to come into the house. Brand had no intention of doing so. He was walking a fine line as it was. His anger had carried him all the way to her front door, but being this close to Erin, loving her as much as he did and loathing her for the hell she’d put him through, wasn’t exactly conducive to them being alone together. He’d forgotten how beautiful she was, with her rich auburn hair and her expressive dark eyes. They registered a multitude of emotions.
“I can’t…explain it out here,” she said when he doggedly remained where he was. “Come inside. There’s coffee.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d prefer not to. Just kindly tell me why you’re moving?”
“You don’t want to come inside?” Erin sounded hurt and incredulous.
“No.” Once again he pointed to the sign.
“I have to sell,” she explained haltingly. “Well, I don’t exactly have to…Actually, if you want the truth, I’m sick of the grand piano. It takes up the entire living room, I don’t have the time for lessons, and I lack talent.”
“That isn’t any reason to sell. A few months ago a bulldozer was the only thing that would get you out of this house.”
“It isn’t the house that was so important to me.”
“Then what the hell was it?”
“Roots,” she shouted back, just as angry and impatient with him as he was with her.
Brand wasn’t buying that for one minute. “Now we both know, don’t we, Erin? All this business about needing security was bull. You don’t have any more roots in Seattle than you did anyplace else. You can pretend all you want after today, sweetheart, but for right now, you’re going to admit the truth.”
She frowned as if she hadn’t a clue what he was saying.
“You’re bored and restless,” he elaborated.
She denied that with a hard shake of her head. “That’s not true.”
“Sorry, sweetheart, I should have recognized the symptoms, but I was so damn much in love with you, a battleship would have escaped me.”
A lone tear ran down the side of her face, but Brand was in no mood to react to her anguish. Perhaps deep down he was pleased to see her crying, although he didn’t like to think that was true. She’d put him through hell, and if she was suffering a little, then so much the better.
“You thrive on change, you always have, only you refused to admit it. You’re looking for a challenge, because it’s the only thing you’ve ever known. You grew up learning how to adjust to situations, and now all of a sudden there’s nothing new. Everything is the same, one day after the next, and you’re looking for a way out, only you’re sugarcoating it with the idea that you don’t have enough room in your living room. Did it ever occur to you that you might sell the piano?”
“No,” she whispered in a tight, strained voice.
“I didn’t think it would.” She thought more like a navy wife than Brand had ever realized.
Neither of them spoke for several tense moments. Brand knew he should turn and walk away from her. He’d said everything he wanted to and more. Erin stood before him as pale as a canvas sail bleached by the sun, holding herself proud, her head high and regal.
He started to move, but every step felt as if he were dragging an anchor with him. Part of him yearned to shout back at her, tell her she’d never find a man who loved her as much as he did, but she’d rejected his love once, and he was too damn proud to hand her the power to injure him again.
He was halfway to his car when she called out to him. “Brand…”
He twisted around and discovered that she’d walked down the steps toward him. “What?” he demanded brusquely.
She shook her head. Then, using the back of her hands, she wiped the moisture from her face. “I’m so—”
“Don’t apologize,” he said, in as cutting a voice as he could manage. He could take anything but that. She didn’t want him, didn’t love him enough. By God, he wasn’t about to let her water down her regrets by telling him how sorry she was.
“I wasn’t,” she whispered brokenly. “Just be happy.”
Something broke within Brand, something deep and fundamental that had been wounded that afternoon in the Seattle hotel. “Be happy,” he shouted, marching up to her. He gripped her hard by the shoulders. The power of the emotion had a stranglehold on all his good intentions to turn and aloofly walk away from her. He had damn little pride left when it came to Erin, but for once he was determined to close himself off from her. After all the times she’d hurt him, it felt good to be the one in control. He struggled to remain indifferent and detached.
He ruined everything by announcing the truth. “Do you honestly believe I can be happy without you in my life?” he demanded. “Fat chance, sweetheart.”
She blinked up at him, her eyes stricken and wide. “But you’re marrying Catherine.”
He snickered loudly. “Your father should know by now not to trust everything he hears.”
“You mean you’re not?”
“Not anytime soon,” he bit out caustically.
Indescribable joy crowded Erin’s face before she gave a hoarse shriek. She tossed her arms around his neck and shocked him by spreading madcap kisses all over his face. Her hands were splayed over his ears as her sweet mouth bestowed a fleeting succession of kisses wherever her lips happened to land. Tears mingled with those first kisses and mumbled, unintelligible words.
“Erin, stop,” he demanded. At the first touch of her mouth, the hard protective shell he’d erected around his heart cracked. He’d worked like a madman to fortify it from the moment he’d knocked on her front door. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold out with her touching him like this.
Her lips found his, and he opened to her, hungry and eager and too battle-weary to fight her any longer. He took control of the kiss, plowing his hands into her hair and slanting his mouth over hers. She sighed and locked her arms around his neck and kissed him back with a need that made Brand bitterly regret the fact they were outside her house.
“You’re going to marry me,” he told her forcefully.
“Yes…yes,” she answered, as if there had never been any question about it. “Only let’s make the wedding soon.”
Brand frowned. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I’m probably going to get transferred.”
“I know.”
“In the next twenty years I may be stationed from here to kingdom come. We’ll move any number of times.”
“No doubt we will, but I’m used to that.”
The rigid control he’d maintained early on had melted and puddled at his feet, but Brand wasn’t completely convinced this was for real. He wasn’t leaving anything to speculation. “There are going to be children.”
“I certainly hope so.”
“You wanted roots, remember?”
“I’ve got them, only they’re wound around you.”
Brand felt dizzy with relief and a profound sense of completeness. “Why?”
She laughed softly, and he heard the pain mingled with the joy. “You’re right…you were right all along, only I was too blind to realize it. For months I’ve been restless and bored, just like you said. I wanted to blame that feeling on you, but it started long before we met. Nearly every weekend I was taking long drives. Last month I put the house on the market, thinking once it sold I’d put in my notice at the office and move to Oregon.
“I was wrong about so many things. Aimee was right—I hadn’t been with the Community Action Program long enough to realize some marriages do work. People can stay in love forever. I’d forgotten that and so many other things. Did you know I attended four different universities? Can you believe that? All along I kept claiming I wanted roots, but I was too blind to see how bored I get in one place. When I did realize that, it was too late—I’d heard about you and Catherine. Oh, Brand, I’m so ready to be your wife. So ready to settle down.”
“The only place you’re going to settle is with me.”
“Aye, aye, Lieutenant,” she whispered. Her mouth claimed his for a lengthy series of delicate, nibbling kisses.