Stay(62)

She glances around. “I don’t see a chess set.”

“Damn.” Leaning forward, I prop my forearms on my knees. “Any good books to read?”

We both look at the bare shelves, and she shrugs. “I guess we have to talk. Or not. We could watch another Pirates movie?”

“God, no. Let’s talk. Pick a topic. World events? Will there ever be peace in the Middle East?”

A small smile, and she shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

We’re both quiet again.

Orlando Bloom hops on a log then falls into crystal blue waters.

A few more seconds pass, then Emmy breaks the silence. “I’ve been thinking about something since that day at the park.”

I shift, slightly uneasy. “You want to know about Alyssa?”

“Not really.” She scoots a little higher in the bed. “Why did you tell her you didn’t believe in marriage?”

Easy enough. “Because I didn’t.”

“You didn’t.” Her chin lowers, and her eyes level on mine. “Why not?”

“I don’t know. Lousy childhood? Poor father figure? Pick one.” My mind travels back to something she told me. “That night at the party, you asked if I’d be like the rest of them, a wife in Connecticut and a mistress in the city.”

The corner of her mouth tilts down. “You remember that night?”

“Of course, I do.” I didn’t know the significance of it, but I remember it.

I actually thought about it from time to time, but in those days, I dismissed my feelings as weakness.

“So, if you don’t believe in marriage, what about children?”

My eyes flicker to Eli asleep in the bed. “I never thought about having children.”

“What will you leave behind when you’re gone?” Her tone changes to teasing. “Who will you manipulate with all your money when you’re old?”

“Yes, that sounds like me, sorting my belongings, busying my lawyer.” I think about those assholes constantly changing their wills.

Her grin fades, and her voice turns serious. “So no Hastings legacy?”

“My work is my legacy. I’ve spent time developing programs that will help people. One could argue they’re far more beneficial than another human taking up space on the planet. Who knows how a human is going to turn out? Look at me.”

A laugh pushes through her lips, and she rolls her eyes. “Tell me about it.”

“I’d say you got lucky with that little guy.” Our eyes meet, and hers are warm, appreciative.

Her hair is tied in a low ponytail, but a tendril falls on her cheek. I want to slide it back with my finger, tuck it behind her ear. I want to kiss her. I want to pull her under me and hold her.

I’m pleased she seems more relaxed now. I hope I’ve helped her get there.

Comfortable silence fills the room. The screensaver is on the television. It rotates scenes of the ocean, deserts, space. It’s soothing, and I think she might fall asleep after all until she speaks.

“I can’t say I blame you.”

My brow furrows, and I think back over our conversation. “About what?”

“Marriage, love. After Burt, I was sure I stopped believing in love.”

“You believe in love. I’ve seen you with your son.”

“That’s a different love. I’m his mother.” Her head tilts back, resting against the mattress. “I’m talking about a one true love, a great romance that would last the rest of my life.”

I study her profile, the line of her nose, the curve of her lip. I wonder how any man could take her for granted, hurt her—of course, I’ve met The Dick. Still, I wonder if her dreams of romance are realistic. I wonder if what she wants is possible.

“That level of commitment takes maturity, contentment with who you are.” I think about what I’m saying. “You have to give up fighting old battles with yourself.”

Her face turns toward me. “It sounds like you’ve thought about it a lot.”

“When I was younger, I thought about my father and how he treated my mother. He had affairs, but she never acknowledged it. I wonder if she even knew. Perhaps that’s why I gave up on it.”

“Perhaps we were both hurt by bad examples.”

She doesn’t speak again. We’re quiet for a long time, and after a while, I hear the sound of her breathing, low and easy. She’s asleep. I lean my head back, closing my eyes, thinking about her long hair, her pretty lips, and second chances.



* * *



“Dr. Rourke is on his way!” I’m awakened by the voice of a middle-aged nurse gliding into the room carrying a clipboard and shadowed by a younger woman. “This is Maddy. She’s a nursing student making the rounds with me today. It’s almost time to go, Eli. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready!” The boy sits up in the bed, holding his stuffed animal. I notice The Blue Planet is on the TV screen and wonder how long he’s been awake.

Pushing out of the chair, I step back to make room. Emmy has changed into jeans and a long-sleeved white sweater. Her hair is over her shoulders, and it looks like she’s been awake a while as well.

Maddy helps with Eli’s vitals, and he watches them, a worried expression on his face. “Kona’s sad he can’t go with me into surgery. He says he might get scared.”