{ 12 }
Erin had never felt lonely before No-Name showed up at her door whimpering and lost. Why did she now feel so bereft without him?
A few of his black hairs clung to the mat in front of the cold, empty fireplace. His bowls were out, the water one almost full. His leash hung on the hook and chew bones littered the floor like a toddler’s toys. Every reminder of him hurt.
The slippers on her feet were a reminder of Jared and his family. Sadie’s Christmas wish list was still sitting on her kitchen counter where she’d placed it when she got home, the child’s writing seeming to accuse her of letting the girl down.
But panic jumped in her throat when she thought of Sadie. She hadn’t even been able to carry a child to term. How could she bring up a sweet young girl to adulthood?
And then there was Jared.
He’d been there for her when she needed someone. He’d let her lean on him. No one knew better than she did that relying on a man was an excellent way to get your heart broken.
No. She was better off alone.
And Jared and Sadie and that little dog were better off without her.
He’d accused her of running away, and she knew she was, but she’d seen the warm light in his eyes. She knew he was falling for her, as she knew she was falling for him.
What if she stayed? It was only one evening with turkey and cranberry sauce and presents under a tree. What was the big deal?
But if she stayed, they’d only become more tangled in each other’s lives. And that hurting family deserved better than a messed up, wounded woman who was too busy trying to heal herself to help anyone else heal.
Now more than ever she regretted not having her computer and Internet access. She could have booked the first flight out of there.
Well, she didn’t have Internet and she’d been too emotional to really pay attention when she’d looked up flights in the library. There were flights. There were always flights. She could not stand to be in the tiny cottage alone for another minute. So, she grabbed her bag and sprinted for the Jeep and drove to the airport.
“A flight to New York?” the single clerk behind the ticket counter asked, as though she’d requested a flight to Mars. “Well, first you’ll have to fly to Seattle.” He thought about it a minute. “Or Portland. Then you’d connect.”
“Right. When’s the first flight I could take?”
He checked the computer. “You could go tonight, at seven o’clock. That’ll get you into Seattle. You’ll have to stay the night, and you can fly direct to New York in the morning.”
“Fine. That’s fine.”
He nodded. “Busy time of year. You going home for Christmas?”
She blinked at him. Feeling her heart contract at the words. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said, ‘Are you going home for Christmas?’”
She started to back away. “You know, I’m going to get back to you on that.” And then she turned and strode back out into the cold air.
Home for Christmas? Where was that? Daniel had taken that from her when he’d ripped apart the fantasy she’d held of her future with him and their child. He’d damaged her. She’d held on so long to the blame for losing the baby, but how could she know she’d become ill because she was run down? It was a flu bug. She could have caught it on the street, in a shopping mall, on the subway. It was one of those epidemic outbreaks that hit thousands of healthy people. It wasn’t her fault. It was bad luck.
Was she going to let a man who hadn’t been good enough for her and a stroke of bad luck ruin her life? Make her run away from a good man and a healthy child?
Was she punishing herself for the past?
And was it maybe time to stop?
{ ♥ ♥ ♥ }
When she pulled up in front of Jared’s house she realized she’d never been inside it. He’d pointed the place out so at least she knew where it was.
She climbed out of the Jeep and found her hands were shaking. She retrieved the bag out of the back and made her way to the front door.
It was a glossy black door with a lead glass window set in it. A big colorful wreath hung on the door that she bet Sadie had picked out.
She knocked. Waited a minute. Knocked again. Then she heard the familiar sound of a puppy barking, and then fumbling at the lock and the door opened. Sadie stood there, her face lit up brighter than the Christmas tree behind her.
While No-Name rushed up and threw himself at her, Sadie said, “Daddy says he’s mine.”
She knelt so she could pat the dog and talk to Sadie at eye level. “That’s right. I was only looking after him until you were ready.”
Jared came up behind Sadie. His face was carefully blank. “Hi,” he said. Neutral. Giving nothing away.
She rose. Offered him the bulging back of dog paraphernalia. “These are the dog’s things.”
He nodded. Took the bag. “Thanks.”
She had no idea what to say. Sadie looked at her with a child’s open curiosity, the little dog gazed at her with worship, and Jared kept his eyes blank. She licked dry lips. “Is there somewhere we could talk?”
“Sure. Sadie, why don’t you take the dog into the kitchen and play?”
“Okay.” She raced through the living room and the dog turned and raced after her, tail wagging.
Jared held the door open and she walked into the living room, wishing she’d rehearsed what she wanted to say.
“Seems like he’s settling in fine.”
“I think so.” He gestured to a comfy looking blue armchair. “Have a seat.”
“Thanks.” She sat. He sat in the matching chair and waited.
“Nice house,” she said. It was, too. A sturdy house from the twenties, probably. Built to last. It was neat and clean, with a few children’s books on the coffee table beside the most recent copy of Atlantic Magazine. Prominently featured on the wall was a framed drawing that Sadie must have done.
“I’m not going home,” she blurted.
If he was over the moon with joy at the news he managed not to show it. “I see.”
“I—” She gulped. “Jared, everything you said was right. I was running away, back to the place I already ran away from.” She tried to explain the jumble of feelings she could barely sort out herself. “The person I’ve been trying to run away from is me. You see I’ve been blaming myself for losing the baby. If I hadn’t let myself get run down from the break-up, if I’d been sleeping better or eating better, then maybe I wouldn’t have got sick. And my baby wouldn’t have died.” She could hear a delighted chuckle come from the kitchen. Then the bounce of a ball and the scrabbling of baby claws on wooden floor. “I know it’s crazy.”
“No crazier than me wondering if having too many computers in the house gave my wife brain cancer. Or if she got sick because I insisted she get a cell phone when she didn’t even want one.” He reached for her hand. “You’re not the only person who ever went a little crazy with grief.”
She returned the pressure of his hand. Looked over at him and felt a warmth creep over her. “So, I was wondering if I could still accept that Christmas dinner invitation?”
He seemed to think about that for a moment. “I don’t know. Are you going to threaten to jump on a plane every time somebody in my family asks you for a date?”
Her heart skipped a beat at the expression in his eyes. “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask me for one and we’ll see?”
“How’d you like to go tobogganing tomorrow with me and Sadie and the dog?”
“There’s no snow.”
“Oh, there’s snow. You just have to know where to find it.”