Linda Warren - Always a Mother

“Claire, honey.” He wrapped his arms around her and she sagged against him. “I’m sorry life has been so hard.”

“I know.” She looked into his blue eyes. “Undo my bow.”

“What?”

“Undo my bow.”

Frowning, he yanked the ribbon that held back her blond hair, and it tumbled to her shoulders. She spun and took off running across the grass, her hair flying behind her. He caught her in less than ten seconds. Laughing, they whirled around as a light rain began to fall. They hardly noticed as they slowly began to dance, locked in each other’s arms. Raindrops pelted their heads, but they didn’t mind. They were young and in love and remembering how wonderful that felt.

“I love it when we dance—even without music,” he said, kissing her face.

The scent of rain mingled with the smell of him, and her heart brimmed with happiness. She’d lost it for a moment. “Me, too. I love you.”

He stopped moving and cupped her face, his thumbs making wet circles on her cheeks. “I love you with all my heart.”

She smiled, blinking in the rain. “We’re having another baby,” she whispered, feeling his love—the love that made her happy and complete.

“Yes.” He kissed her softly. “You okay?”

“I am now.” She took his hand. “Let’s go home.”

DEAN DROVE UP to the lake house and saw Claire’s car. She was here. The heat of the day had subsided and a sticky warmth prevailed. But it was fresh, not contaminated with gas fumes or other foul city emissions.

He could barely see the house in the darkness, but he knew exactly what it looked like—brown cedar Hardiplanks with a wood deck on the front and the back. The interior was small, with two bedrooms, one bath and a combination kitchen and large den that overlooked the lake.

It had taken every resource they had to swing buying the place. Claire had made another sacrifice. She’d put off going to college so they could afford two house payments. He didn’t want her to, but Claire had insisted. That’s the way she was—always putting her family first.

The girls loved it here, but he wondered how often they’d come back now. Sarah was very studious, like her mother. She was doing an internship in law. Soon she’d take the bar. Samantha was more like him—an athlete. Tennis was her sport, and she was very good, an ace player in high school and college. She would now be teaching physical education and coaching tennis.

Memories swirled around him. He’d wanted to give Claire the world, but he’d busted up his leg in his senior year, and although it had healed, he knew he had to think about her and the girls. He had to be home for them, so he forgot his dream of playing pro football and took a job teaching and coaching.

He was now the head coach and athletic director at a high school. The last four years he’d been building a great team, and if everything fell into place as he’d planned, they were going to win the state championship again this year. Football was in his blood and probably always would be.

Just as Claire was.

Through the window, he could see her sitting on the sofa, the letters strewn around her. At forty-three she still looked beautiful, a gorgeous blonde with soft brown eyes. She had a kind heart and a sweet nature. That’s probably what he loved most about her. And she made him feel young, powerful and all male. Her breasts were fuller now, as were her hips, and she could still heat him up just as quickly as she had back then.

Back then…they’d been through so much. But in truth Claire had been through so much more than him.

December 26, 1984

CHRISTMAS WAS MEAGER at their house. He’d given Claire earrings and she’d bought him a pullover sweater. They’d spent the day at Bunny’s. Sarah was struggling to breathe and wanted only Claire to hold her. Dean took care of Sami, but he couldn’t nurse her, so he had to hand the baby to her, too. Claire was exhausted and he became more aware of that than ever, maybe because he was with them the whole day.

The next day he started practice for the upcoming bowl game. That evening when he came home, Claire was sitting on the living room floor nursing Sami in one arm while Sarah nestled into her side with a breathing mask over her nose and mouth, taking a treatment. Claire’s hair hung limply around her shoulders, sour milk stained her blouse and she looked as tired as he’d ever seen her.

He quickly sank down by her and took Sarah and finished the treatment. As he held his little girl, patting her back, she went to sleep. He carried her into their bedroom and laid her in her crib.

The apartment was cramped, with one bedroom, a living area and kitchen combination, and a small bathroom. He and Claire had a crib on each side of their bed, and that was a problem. She wasn’t getting any sleep.

As he returned to the living room, he saw Sami was through nursing. He scooped her out of her mother’s arms and burped her.

Claire’s head fell back against the cushions. “I’m so tired,” she murmured.

Dean carried Sami to her crib and within minutes she was asleep. After partially closing the door, he went back to Claire. He gathered her into his arms and placed her on the sofa.

Kissing her gently, he said, “Just go to sleep, honey.” He reached for an afghan and covered her.

She snuggled into the cushions. “Don’t let me sleep too long.”

“I won’t.”

He turned off the lights and watched her for a moment before he made his way to the bedroom and closed the door. Both babies awoke during the night. He changed them, and gave Sarah a bottle after which she went back to sleep. But Sami was different. He carried her to Claire, who nursed her without really waking up.

Early the next morning he got up, made breakfast, then took it to Claire on a tray.

She stirred, glanced around and quickly sat up. “Where are the girls?”

“Asleep.”

She yawned. “What time is it?”

“About six.”

Her eyes went wide. “You let me sleep all night?”

“Yep. And here’s breakfast.” He pointed to the tray. “Scrambled eggs, toast and your favorite orange marmalade.”

“Oh, my. I feel like a queen.”

He sat beside her and took her into his arms. “You’re my queen.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “You have practice today and I know you had to get up with the girls.”

“I can go on very little sleep.” He kissed the side of her face. “Football season will be over in a week, and classes won’t start for a couple more weeks. I’ll be here to help out more.”

“Thank you. I love you.”

He just held her and stared at the small Christmas tree they’d positioned on an end table. They had to put it up high because Sarah was walking and she’d pull it over in no time. Claire had decorated it with red bows and shiny balls, along with their special first Christmas ornament and this year’s new ornament. It wasn’t much, but it was all they had. Staring at the sparse tree, he vowed one day he would give her everything.

But “one day” always seemed to be out of his reach.

DEAN CONTINUED TO WATCH Claire through the window, and as he did, a frisson of fear shot through him. Why was she reading the letters? Could it just be nerves? Or was it something more? Suddenly he had to know.

He opened the door and stepped in.

“DEAN.” Claire wasn’t expecting him, and for a moment she was speechless.

“I was worried about you.” He moved some letters and sat beside her, kissing her cheek. “Feeling better?”

“Mmm. How did you know where to find me?”

“A lucky guess.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and her heart contracted. He was so handsome. Threads of gray shone in his dark hair and his features were leaner, more mature. She loved him so much, but how were they going to get through this? How was she going to tell him?