Karen Rock - Wish Me Tomorrow

“I stayed with my grandparents in Kentucky and visited my parents during school vacations. My grandma’s the one who taught me how to make sun tea.”

“Do you use Luzianne tea bags?”

Eli lowered his glass and nodded. “They’re the best. I put the pitcher on the windowsill every morning.”

“Your grandma sounds great.”

The familiar emptiness rose. “She was. But she passed the year after Becca was born, my grandfather six months later.”

Her warm hand found his. “You miss them.”

He jerked away, unnerved by the leap of his heart at her touch. “Every day.” He stood. “Excuse me. I should check on Becca and Tommy.”

In the hall, he pressed his burning forehead against Tommy’s door, glad for the shadows. He was enjoying this time with Christie too much. As much as he wanted her to stay, he probably needed her to go before she got under his skin even more. The way she laughed, spoke, touched him...it made him forget the danger she posed. He had no business letting anyone into his life.

Tommy’s door creaked as he eased it open. Scout raised his head, ears pricked forward.

“Hey, boy,” he whispered. He tiptoed into the room, rubbed Scout’s ears and pressed a light kiss to Tommy’s forehead. The boy slept on his back, one arm flung across his eyes, the other dangling over the side of his bed. He tucked the loose arm under the covers before backing out and shutting the door.

At Becca’s door, he ignored the Keep Out sign and peeked in. Funny how much younger she looked asleep, her face free of the scowls she gave him. He advanced to her bed, gently pulled out her earbuds and placed them with her iPod beside her bed. She turned over and muttered in her sleep. After a moment her quiet breathing resumed, and he returned to the hall, his equanimity restored.

Seeing his children firmed his resolve to separate Christie from their lives. She was charming. Too charming. It’d be easy for them to get attached.

Though Becca and Tommy rarely complained, he knew their mother’s abandonment had crushed them. She rarely called and visited even less. He tried to keep up a pretense that Jacqueline cared, assuring them that her work took her to countries without reliable cell service. He even bought them Christmas and birthday presents and signed her name. But it wasn’t enough. Not even close. And he’d never let anyone hurt them like that again.

When he returned, he found Christie pacing by the window, purse in hand.

“I should be going, Eli. I really don’t mind navigating my way out.”

“A marble staircase without lights? Never a good idea.” His eyes searched hers, willing her to stay longer. He could keep a few boundaries without letting her go off just yet. “Won’t you stay until the electricity’s back?”

She nodded, the candlelight silhouetting her in gold. “If you want me to.”

“I do.” With a firm hand on her back, he guided her back to the couch. This time, he seated himself in a chair—it was safer that way.

“So tell me about Kansas.”

Her expression stilled. Strange. He imagined her life filled with homecoming parades and town picnics.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” he probed.

“An older brother. William.” She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned forward. “He passed away when I turned eighteen.”

He half rose then sat back down. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to talk about it.” He wanted to offer comfort, but how much closer could he afford to get? With an effort, he remained in his seat.

She rubbed her temples. “It’s okay. He died of leukemia at the end of my senior year in high school. I moved in with Gran to attend nursing school at Columbia a few months later.”

A lot about her suddenly made sense. “Is that why you became a grief counselor?”

Christie’s head snapped up. “What? No. Maybe. It’s not something I really think about.”

“Oh,” he said, understanding more than she knew. Strange that she talked about cancer with strangers but when it came to herself, she stayed mum. He wondered if she shared her experience with her support group. Then again, her story didn’t have a happy ending—not the positive focus she wanted. Time to switch subjects.

“And your parents. Are they still in Kansas?”

“They died in a car crash during my first year in college.”

Eli rose. This time he would go to her. How had he managed to ask such horrible questions?

The lights blared on. He blinked away the spots in front of his eyes and saw Christie wipe her damp cheeks. After all she’d been through this evening, he’d made her cry. What an insensitive jerk.

As she walked to the door, he trailed in her wake. He hated to say goodbye after stirring up those painful memories. But with the power back, what excuse did he have for her to stay?

“I’m sorry I brought all of that up.”

She rummaged in her purse. “Don’t worry. I try not to dwell on it. It’s better that way.” She jabbed at an unlit cell phone.

Was it better that way? Her closed expression screamed “Drop the subject!” and with difficulty, he did.

“May I call and request a car for you? It’s late and I wouldn’t want you walking far for a cab.”

“Thank you. I was planning to splurge and call for one given the hour, but my battery died.”

He dialed the number of a nearby service and watched her withdraw a tissue. She blew her nose and straightened her narrow shoulders. When he hung up, she turned, eyes dry, lips curving upward once more.

Only now he wasn’t fooled. That smile covered deep pain. He’d been determined to keep her at arm’s length for his children’s sake. But now he understood that he needed to stay away for her sake, too. She’d suffered too much loss to spend her days with a guy who might be living on borrowed time. Too bad knowing that didn’t make it any easier to say goodbye.

“The driver will be here in five minutes.” He recalled her claustrophobia and the unreliable elevator door. “May I see you downstairs?”

Christie nodded and preceded him. “Tell the children I said goodbye.”

He pushed the elevator button. “I will. Thanks again for watching them. Oh. And I almost forgot to tell you. The doctor told me John’s brain tumor has shrunk.”

Her green eyes widened. Was there any color more beautiful? “That’s wonderful news. He’s had a tough time, but he’s a fighter.”

When the elevator dinged, he caught the flash of the rabbit’s foot disappearing into her hand. What a superstitious little soul. He definitely liked Christie Bates.

They rode the elevator in silence. He glanced her way a few times, wondering at her silently moving lips.

A black car idled by the curb when they stepped into the foyer. So soon. If only they had a few more minutes.

“Goodbye, Eli.” Her wistful voice produced an almost-physical ache in his heart. They’d been through a lot tonight. Having it end after her painful admission felt wrong.

Worse, he’d let her share that without ever admitting anything about his condition. Maybe it would be better if she knew. At least then she’d understand why this really needed to be goodbye.

“I have cancer,” he blurted. “Had, I mean.”

She touched his arm, the gentle sensation lingering long after she dropped her hand. “I’m so glad you’re in remission. Tommy told me about your illness, but only because he knows I work with cancer patients. The children respect your wish not to talk about it.”

Now, that he had not expected. Did she understand his reason for telling her? That he needed the reminder of why he shouldn’t see her again?

The town-car driver honked and she opened the foyer door and walked out. He followed, pulling the car door wide for her.