Bring Me Home for Christmas (Virgin River #16)(27)

Rich came home, ready for college, ready for the challenge—he majored in engineering. Rich was such a big goof it was hard to imagine him as adept in mathematics, but he was. He had excelled. Denny still hadn’t been sure what he wanted and before he could consider his options, his mother took a turn for the worse. His only real choice was to take care of her; there was no one else. All this time, Becca was at USC finishing her teaching degree, hoping to do her student teaching at home in San Diego; she talked to him daily and saw him almost every weekend.

Almost.

He was right—she had had many commitments. She was busy, had friends, activities, responsibilities, family. It was just Denny and his mom; he had a job at Home Depot, part-time so he had plenty of free time for his mother. Sue was either having cancer treatments or home on the sofa, weak and ill, waiting for her son to take her to the clinic or warm up some soup for her. And finally there had been hospice.

He must have been so lonely.

So afraid…

Becca was naturally a very nurturing person, one of the reasons she sought teaching as a career and wanted a family of her own, so of course she empathized with her boyfriend. She thought even he would admit she was sensitive, sweetly and lovingly checking on him, making herself available to him…

By long distance. When she wasn’t in class. When she wasn’t studying or at a sorority function. When she was home on some weekends and not busy with her family or friends or surfing with her old team.

But her mother checked on Denny and Sue regularly—at least once a week! And of course, when Sue died, Becca and her entire family were there at the funeral.

He must have felt so alone….

There were silent tears that wet her pillow; she was very careful not to let him hear her cry. He took all the blame for being wrong, for being so screwed up that he reenlisted, when he could have thrown some of the blame on the busy coed girlfriend who was just as absent.

Becca just began understanding something that even Denny hadn’t understood at the time. He had been isolated, depressed and reached out for the only thing that made him feel useful and valuable—the military. So without giving it much thought, he went.

Of course, everything might’ve been different. He could have told her he needed her and asked her to leave college and the sorority and come home to him…

Oh, brother, she thought. What a reach that was! First of all, Denny was too proud, too strong. Second, and shamefully, she wouldn’t have done it. She would have called him twice as much maybe, but only to tell him she loved him and to hang in there. Because she was in her senior year!

They were twenty-two. Only twenty-two.

So, twenty-five didn’t make a wise old sage, but she’d grown up a little. She’d suffered through the pain of loss, for one thing. There was the despair of constant worry and the agony of rejection. It had wreaked havoc on her appearance from sleeplessness and loss of appetite. She cried at the drop of a hat. Her rich social life lost its luster and she grew isolated, too.

Then she’d lived on her own and supported herself for three years—it had been tougher than she thought it would be for a brand-new teacher. She’d been through a couple of challenging situations, not the least of which was an ex-boyfriend she was still in love with so far out of her reach.

And along came Doug. When she met him and found herself laughing, enjoying a date, finally having a lover’s arms around her again, she thought maybe her life wasn’t over, after all. And although Doug was always under pressure, being a law student, his life was one-dimensional. He was uncomplicated. There hadn’t been any wars or close losses in his past, and maybe on some level she liked that.

But she couldn’t go any further with Doug until she smoothed out some of the kinks in what had been an emotional ride with Denny. Maybe now they could, since there was a bit of maturity, a little understanding and a whole lot more honesty. Knowing what she knew, maybe they could reach out to each other at least in friendship. Once, a long time ago, when they were just kids, they hadn’t just been lovers. They’d been such good friends.

She’d grieved that as much as anything.

Seven

The sound of Denny moving around the room woke her before the sunlight. She heard the shower, the water in the sink, the toilet. Then he came to the bed and gently touched her cheek. “I’m sorry to have to wake you,” he whispered. “After you get some breakfast, you can nap the day away in Preacher’s house if you want to. But I feel like I should take the boys out to the river. After all, I asked them to come.”

“Hmm, go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

“Becca, I don’t want to even think about you trying the stairs.”

“Don’t worry. If you write down the number, I’ll call the bar and see if Jack or Preacher can help me down.” She touched his cheek and gave him a sleepy smile. “That way, I can have my morning grooming without you standing right outside the bathroom door. Okay?”

“You promise? You’ll call the bar for help?”

“Sure,” she said, lying through her teeth. She had absolutely no intention of calling anyone. But she did have a plan. “Can I make a long-distance call from that phone?”

He hesitated for just a second. “No problem,” he said.

“Thanks. Go on. Have fun. Let me sleep some more.”

She rolled over and heard Denny leave the apartment. She sighed gratefully. She felt disgusting and in dire need of a fluff and buff. She’d had only sponge baths since falling into the mud hole. Her hair felt itchy and greasy and she’d had only one change of clothes.