My Kind of Christmas (Virgin River #20)(36)

“Then why the reaction?” Patrick demanded.

“Because, kid—you have complications right now. ‘Commitments,’ as you call them. Just let me know if you need someone at your back.”

Patrick was quiet for a minute. “Thanks.”

“Want dinner here tonight? I’m cooking for my little farmer.”

“Sorry, I can’t.”

Colin studied him for a long moment. “Of course you can’t,” he finally said.

* * *

The Riordan men weren’t known for sensitivity, though they did stick together. In fact, they could be rolling in the dust fighting one minute and the next backing one another up. Patrick, being the youngest, had never had great conflict with any of them. It was Luke and Colin who fought the most. Then it was Luke and Sean. Then it was Sean and Colin. There were times it was Luke or Colin and Aiden. But no one could stay mad at Paddy.

He’d had about enough of being called kid, however.

So, the old boys—Luke and Colin—had mellowed out beyond anything Paddy had expected. He was convinced it was their women. Two of the scrappiest Riordans got two of the best women—Shelby and Jilly. Nothing wrong with Sean’s Franci or Aiden’s Erin, either, but the latter two women hadn’t had nearly as much challenge in taming their men.

Colin was right in what he said to Patrick—Angie was tender, even though she tried to appear worldly and brave. He should probably break things off before he added to her struggle with her family, with her uncle. They were going to part ways eventually, anyway. Probably better if it happened sooner than later. But he couldn’t even think about it. Patrick hadn’t had the kind of experience he’d shared with Angie with another woman in so long he couldn’t… Oh, hell, he was pretty sure he’d never had that kind of experience with a woman, and he was not without experience.

Once home, he got his stir-fry ready—chopped and marinated so that all that was left was to throw it in the pan. Then he settled in to call Marie.

“Hullo?” she said thickly.

Oh, please, he prayed. Let it be a cold.

“How are you today, Marie?”

She sniffed and snuffled. “Oh, Paddy,” she said, crying. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I let myself have a bad day—I think I lost my mind a little bit.”

“What happened, honey?”

“It was so crazy. My mom was watching Daniel so I could do a little Christmas shopping at the mall. It was crowded, it was festive, lots of lights and music and…I was feeling so good. I kept finding things I couldn’t resist—perfect presents. I went through a ton of stores and bought armloads of things and then… Oh, God, Paddy! I realized I’d bought presents for Jake!” And she melted into tears.

“It’s okay, Marie,” he said. “It’s okay....”

“Shirts and sweaters and pants and shoes. Electronic stuff he would love. All for Jake. Like I was going to go home, wrap it all up, put it under the tree and he’d—” He could hear the sobs across the phone line.

“You can take it all back,” he said, trying to reassure her, to comfort her.

“I don’t want to take it back! I want him to come home!”

“Aw, Marie…”

“Do you ever ask yourself if it’s true? If he’s really gone?”

He shook his head, although she couldn’t see him. This might be a good time to tell her Jake sometimes visited his dreams, joked around with him, poked fun at him. But then again, no…

“Unfortunately, I know he’s gone,” he said quietly. “But I think I’d rather forget that sometimes and buy him Christmas presents by accident.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“If I could have an hour of him being alive, I’d take it.”

“I don’t know what to do,” she whimpered.

“Ask your mom or sister to return those things, Marie. Or give them to charity and send me the bill. If it makes you feel better to look at them, touch them, fondle them for a while, then do that for a week or so. It’s Christmas—it’s hard. But it’ll pass.” He wiped at his eye.

“For a while it really felt like he was alive,” she said weakly. “What’s the matter with me?”

“Nothing,” he insisted. “Normal confusion—he was your soul mate. The loss is… It’s just hard, especially right now. You talk to anyone in your grief group?”

“I don’t want to right now. I just want to…you know…”

He chuckled through a fat tear. “Wallow?”

She chuckled back but it caught on a hiccup. “Exactly.”

Patrick found himself thinking about their shared grief, how quickly sobs could turn into laughter and vice versa. They’d done this together since Jake’s death. Even though Marie had a loving family, it was Patrick and Marie together who mourned Jake the most, the hardest. Even little Daniel, at barely two, didn’t really feel the loss. His father had been deployed so much of his young life, anyway.

“Maybe you should sleep with the presents you bought,” he said, teasing.

“Or wear them?” she teased back. “Oh, God, it’s so embarrassing. I’m afraid if I tell my mom how I lost my mind, she’ll put me in a treatment center.”