Chapter Twenty-Four
I ris had to get off the beach. For the first time in three years, she found no solace there. Taking Angel with her, she spent Saturday driving around San Diego, visiting a few of her favorite parks, driving over to Coronado Island, taking pictures of her sweet girl in every spot they visited. And when nighttime came and her heart sank at the idea of heading back to Ocean Breeze, she called her stepmom.
She and Ivy had never given Diane a chance to be any kind of a mother to them—they’d had their own, and after she’d died, had hugely resented anyone who thought they’d take her place.
And, like their father, she’d been a recovered alcoholic. As teenagers, filled with their own knowledge, she and Ivy hadn’t understood enough about the disease. Number one, that it was an illness, not merely a choice.
And that those who suffered with it, didn’t want to be that way.
They’d only known how their father’s drinking had hurt them personally and destroyed their family. And had seen Diane as potential for more of the same.
But as Iris opened herself up to the past, she’d been remembering more and more about the early days after the accident. She might not have survived, or had the will to fight to learn to walk again, if not for Diane’s presence beside her hospital bed, day after day, week after week. Twenty-four/seven during those first touch-and-go weeks.
In the six months she’d been in hospitals and rehabilitation facilities, Diane had never missed a day’s visit. Not one.
But as Iris had moved from hospital care to strictly psychological healing, she’d blocked Diane’s presence as much as she’d shut out everything else that she couldn’t take with her if she was going to survive.
The pain had buried her. And could again.
That’s what Scott didn’t get.
She hadn’t had a choice. She had to walk away.
She was good being with him, as long as it stayed within boundaries that kept her healthy. Love didn’t do that.
It destroyed her.
She’d been there.
She knew.
Diane met her at a hotel lounge halfway between San Diego and Anaheim, and over dinner and a glass of wine, she listened as she’d always done, while Iris unloaded on her. About finally being whole again. The journey she’d been on to get there. How good it felt to have arrived.
Until Iris got a look at herself, peering down at the two of them from some perch above. Or maybe Ivy, looking at them from her perch, gave her a strong nudge.
“I’m sorry,” she said, then, knowing deep inside her that that’s all she’d come to say. Looking into the woman’s big brown eyes, filled with the same honest caring she’d always shown, Iris teared up. “You’ve been nothing but kind and welcoming since the first time Ivy and I met you and we wouldn’t let you in and I’m just so sorry.”
Diane smiled tenderly, shook her head, patted Iris’s hand and said, “It’s all part of being a mother, sweetie. I only got to do it secondhand, but I’m grateful to have had the chance.” Her lips trembled, though, showing Iris some of the pain she had to be hiding.
“All those months I was in the hospital… I just need you to know…you being there saved my life.”
Tearing up in earnest, Diane continued to smile. Nodded. And reached her hand out across the table. Iris didn’t hesitate at all as she took hold of the soft fingers and held on.
* * *
Sage called Scott late Sunday afternoon, asking him to come down. He didn’t answer right away. Wasn’t sure if he was going to go or not. He had work inside his home office, waiting for him. Briefs to go through, some case law to verify. All needing to be done before morning.
And work was an excuse Sage would take without question.
Unless it was a matter of life and death, or Leigh had an immediate need for which Sage couldn’t provide, his work always came first.
The big question was, would Iris be there?
He didn’t ask.
He did take Morgan back out for another opportunity to do her business, though, as he considered Sage’s invitation.
Looking, again, for Angel on the beach. If she showed up, problem solved.
But Angel didn’t show.
But in the end, the possibility of seeing Iris, within the safety of the small group they’d existed in since they’d met, was too much to pass up, and when Morgan had done her business Scott headed down to the end of the beach.
He took it slow. Not waiting, exactly, but watching for Angel to come bounding up to greet them. And made it all the way to Sage and Gray’s back porch without encountering either the dog, or her owner .
The newlyweds were waiting for him outside. In two of the really nice chairs they’d picked out as part of the cushioned furniture they’d bought for the space. Making it more an outdoor living room than a beach porch.
His twin handed him a beer as he stepped up on the newly built expanded deck.
He could hear the television going inside. Emitting childish, cartoon voices.
Computed that Leigh had been told to stay put, as he opened his beer. Sat. Raised the can to his mouth, looking over the rim of it at his best friend.
He’d barely taken his first sip, when Sage, whose gaze he’d probably been subconsciously avoiding blurted, “Iris is moving.” Her tone stopped short of accusation, but not by much.
He frowned. Shook his head.
And Sage just kept spewing in his direction. “She put her place up for sale this morning. Is already packing. She offered me all the things she’s collected over the years to entertain Leigh when she’s visiting. Even the little toddler bed she uses when she spends the night. Said I could use it for the new baby…”
He took the hits hard. Probably more so than his sister had intended. Sage was upset. A bit panicky. She wasn’t mean-spirited.
And… Iris was moving? Just like that?
She’d already put her place on the market? She loved Ocean Breeze. The cottage.
Love. Iris didn’t love love.
She couldn’t allow herself.
And was refusing to let herself have any of it in her life from others, apparently. He hurt for her. Significantly. More than he’d ever imagined. Took a sip of his beer. Then another, and said, “I’m sorry to hear that.”
He shouldn’t have come down. The conversation he’d inadvertently walked into would have been much better coming over the phone.
“I know you’re in love with her,” Sage said. “That you two have had a thing going for months.”
Iris hadn’t contacted him at all, but she’d told Sage about them? Blaming him?
He couldn’t wrap his mind around that, either.
“She told you?” he asked, still trying to catch up. Iris was moving ?
He hadn’t seen that coming.
Sage’s glance at Gray, her knowing nod, clued him in. “She didn’t tell you,” he said then, reminding himself who he was talking to. Not just his twin, but a top-tier lawyer just like himself.
“We figured it out while we were still in Europe,” Sage said.
Scott’s gaze swung to Gray, pinning him. The other man threw up his hands. Shrugged. Shook his head.
As smart as always. Not getting in between the Martin twins.
“Don’t blow this, Scott. Your first marriage, she was a selfish daddy’s girl looking for someone to support her in style. And you were too young and focused on climbing the ranks in the prosecutor’s office. You needed a wife, she needed a husband, but you weren’t in love and it didn’t work out. But that’s not this. You’ve got a once-in-a-lifetime shot here…”
He nodded. Held his beer on his knee until he could be fairly certain he’d get the swallow down, and then took a long swig.
“I’d already worked through all that,” he said after a brief silence. “And I tried.”
He didn’t go so far as to say Iris had turned him down.
It hadn’t been that clear cut.
And was far worse than he’d realized.
Iris was moving ?
He looked over at his twin, seeking not sympathy exactly, but in need of a dose of the compassion she’d been salving him with throughout their lives.
Sage’s look held little understanding. Eyeing him with determination, more than anything else, she said, “Fix it, Scott.”
He got it. The woman was losing her best friend because Scott had slept with her. Of course, the other side of that was that Iris had slept with him, too. He looked over at Gray, knowing his friend would at least try to back him up.
Gray met his gaze, and said, “Fix it, man.”
Scott quit looking at the other two people on the porch. He reached down to pet the girl at his feet, sat back and drank beer.
Finished off the can. And stood.
“Scott, please.” Sage glanced back at his chair. He didn’t sit back down. But he didn’t leave, either.
Sage’s gaze had softened as she looked up at him. “If there’s one mistake you made in the past it was that you didn’t fight.”
“She’s right about that, man,” Gray piped in, and Scott’s gaze swung in that direction, half wondering who the man was who’d invaded his buddy’s body. Until Gray said, “Your ex told you she’d moved out, and you didn’t ask her to reconsider. To move back and give the marriage a chance. You didn’t ask what you could do to make things work. You just took the blame—some of which was yours to take, but not all—and branded yourself a failure.”
That’s what he got for drinking too much one night at some bar in the city and pouring out his woes. Your best bud poured them back on you when you least expected it.
Sage sat forward, drawing his attention. Scott was beginning to feel like a Ping-Pong ball being batted back and forth between two paddles as Sage said, “Yeah and then when she served you with ridiculously one-sided divorce papers you just signed them. At the very least, the divorce needed to be an even split,” Sage continued. “But instead of fighting for yourself, you just walked away.”
When he’d done nothing wrong except work hard to begin to build a future for his family. And neglect his wife.
He’d had some fault in the matter.
As he was sure he had with Iris, too. Maybe if he’d chosen different words. Different timing…
Kept his mouth shut altogether…
Sage’s hand reached out to his, hanging loosely at his thigh, and held on. “Don’t just walk away again, Scott. You don’t get many chances like this in a lifetime. You and Iris are so good together. And for each other.”
Clearly Iris hadn’t told her anything about what had happened. Sage didn’t know she was preaching to the choir. “I tried, Sage. Trust me on that one. But the choice is hers to make. I can’t force her. I wouldn’t even try. And I’m not going to beg, either. She has to want to stay. Anything else would end up…ending just like this. Only sometime in the future. When we’d both be hurt even worse.”
Those words came rote. He’d been having the conversation over and over with himself for the past two days.
“No, Scott.” Sage stood, not as tall as him, but, he believed, every bit as mighty. “No.” Her eyes were inches from his. He couldn’t avoid their stare even if he wanted to. So he met her eye to eye. Strength to strength as she said, “Do you take the first no you get in court? Or the tenth? You listen to the argument. You process. You consider all the facts, and you come back again. Winning way more times than not.” Continuing to study eyes the same color as his own, read more than the intensity shining up at him, Scott sighed. Didn’t have any argument left.
“You know her, Scott,” Sage said, as though the four words held all the answers he’d need. “Fix it.”
* * *
Iris was in her workroom late Sunday night, editing photos she’d taken of Angel the day before, avoiding going to bed. She’d slept on the leather sofa in her workroom Friday and Saturday nights but knew that it wasn’t healthy to do so.
She couldn’t hide from the inevitable. Nor was she going to be wasteful and buy new furniture when hers was only a couple of years old. She was going to be sleeping alone, again.
In the bed, the room, she’d shared with Scott.
She needed to just get in there and get on with it.
Already in the cotton pajama shorts and short-sleeved shirt she intended to wear to bed, she called to Angel and headed toward the door for the girl’s last duty call.
The front door, not the back. No way was she taking a chance on Morgan being out. On the girls creating a horribly awkward situation for her and Scott.
She’d already set about taking care of that situation. Had spent a good part of the afternoon looking for another place to live.
Angel was whining before Iris even got the door opened. Frowning, wondering if the girl wasn’t feeling well, Iris let Angel head out first, to get to the small patch of artificial grass Iris had laid for her to use, only to see her running down to the cemented post mailbox at the end of the drive.
That’s when she noticed the man standing there, leaning on the post.
Turning, ready to go back inside, she heard Angel’s yip as she greeted the best friend she hadn’t seen in two days. And knew that she couldn’t run. Or hide.
She wasn’t going to desert Angel.
But she could take the offense. Get through the difficult moment she’d tried to avoid and be done.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, when nothing better came along.
“Waiting to see you.”
“You could have called.”
“Would you have answered?”
Probably not. Since his question implied the obvious, she left it alone.
Tried another stance. “I saw Diane last night. Apologized for how I’d treated her when I was younger. And let her know she’d saved my life.” Just to let him know that she was healthy. Strong. And willing to admit to her mistakes.
Like the one she’d made when she’d walked away from him without giving him the same?
“I’m sorry for the other night, Scott. I handled it badly.”
With his hands in the pockets of his shorts, his biceps oddly highlighted by the streetlight just above them, he remained by the post and said, “Sorry for how you handled it? Or for your response in general?”
Both really. The admission did nothing but prolong the inevitable.
“I’m moving,” she said then, figuring Sage would have already told him. Guessing that was why he’d shown up. She’d wondered if he would.
Had hoped not.
“You and Sage were here first. Ocean Breeze is your home. It’s right that I be the one to go.”
She thought he nodded. Couldn’t be sure. Saw Angel pee, and was glad the awkward goodbye was almost done. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know, I’ll remember you always, with utmost fondness. I’m glad I knew you, Scott Martin,” she said and, clicking her fingers for Angel because she didn’t trust her voice to get out another coherent sound, turned to head toward her new life.
Whatever it would be.
Wherever it would lead her.
* * *
Fix it.
Sage’s words screamed inside Scott’s head as he watched Iris turn to go. He had no magic bullet. No solution. He’d come home via the street because he’d figured that’s where Iris would be taking Angel to do her business to avoid him and Morgan. He’d planned to stand there as long as it took for her to come out.
And that was all he had. He’d just stood there.
Until he saw the one woman for him turning her back on him. It was as though the jury had all left without rendering a verdict, the judge had quit, the defendant was going to win. He couldn’t let that happen. “If you don’t believe in love, why are you so afraid of it?” His delivery was louder than it should have been.
Otherwise, he stood by his words. And wasn’t going to let her go without answering to them. Even if he had to text her, write to her, for years to come…
She continued to her door as though she hadn’t heard him.
But she had. He’d seen the way her back had stiffened. Noted the oddly unmoving tilt of her head. The way she got when she was fighting off fear.
“When you figure it out, I’ll be waiting,” he said, his tone bedroom soft. “Because that’s what love does. It doesn’t die. It doesn’t leave. It waits. Sometimes we don’t get that until eternity gets here, but the love, it’s always there.”
His father’s never-ending love for his mother had taught him that. The years without her, his father had always played her favorite song on her birthday. He’d learned to make her special recipes. He’d talked about her.
And, Scott suspected, had talked to her, too.
Because Randolph Martin was a man who gave his all to everything he did. He’d been strict. Had had seemingly impossibly high expectations. And yet, he’d always been there to wipe up spilled milk, too. To tend to wounds. To pick up the pieces.
That’s what love did.
As Scott watched Iris’s straight back disappear inside her cottage, saw the door close, he stood there with tears in his eyes.
But no regret for having loved her.
* * *
Iris made it into her bathroom before her tears fell. She brushed her teeth through blurred eyes. Turned out the light. Got into bed. Called Angel up to cuddle with her.
Wrapping her arms around the warm girl, she promised herself she wouldn’t cry anymore. She didn’t want to wet Angel’s fur.
She just wanted to sleep.
To get a break.
To wake up refreshed and move forward.
Except that the tears didn’t stop. Which meant she couldn’t sleep because she had to keep blowing her nose.
And Angel kept staring at her. As though expecting something more.
Or was worried.
Rolling onto her side, she pulled the girl right up to her face, and said, “You’re going to miss Morgan a ton.”
Should she leave Angel behind? Gray and Sage were looking to adopt a puppy for Leigh.
It would be the right thing to do. Iris had no idea where she’d be in the short go. Didn’t know what kind of yard Angel would have. Or have anyone to watch the girl when she had to work long hours.
Knots twisted her stomach as the thoughts piled on. Angel crawled a couple of inches forward and licked her nose. Twice. Then lay her head on Iris’s face. Right there, neck over the bridge of Iris’s nose.
Loving her. Even as Iris had been planning to give her away.
To leave her behind.
Loving her.
Oh God.
Oh God.
Her heart pounded, she started to shake and wrapped her arms around the miniature collie’s warmth. People couldn’t get through to her.
She’d closed her heart off tightly to that source.
But the dog…her precious little girl…
Was showing her the truth that Scott had just challenged her to see.
If you don’t believe in love, why are you so afraid of it?
She was afraid. So afraid that she couldn’t let herself…
A vision of Ivy’s knowing smile crossed her mind’s eye and in that instant, Iris recognized it for what it was. Not just a memory from the past.
But a living entity that surpassed understanding.
Ivy’s body was gone. Her love was not.
Nor was Iris’s capacity to feel her. Or Angel.
Or…
Out of bed in an instant, Iris slid into a pair of flip-flops, grabbed a long sweater from the hook on the back of her bathroom door, clicked her fingers for Angel and ran out the front door.
Scott had said he’d be waiting.
He wasn’t there.
But she knew where to find him.
Jogging as best she could with foam flapping at her feet, she was sweating by the time she got to his front door. Heard Morgan barking inside.
Followed by Angel’s bark beside her.
Leaving no doubt to the man inside about who was pounding on his door after midnight when he had to be up early for work in the morning.
When he opened the door, she met his gaze, and said, “I could have waited until tomorrow, but what if something happened to you on the way to work in the morning? Or before you made it home? What if something happened to me?”
His gaze soft, he stood there, bare except for the briefs, and said, “You trying to tell me something?”
“I do want to be a mother. But the thought of bringing a child into the world and then dying on it, hurting it like that when I have no control over such a thing, or having it die on me, scares me so much I can’t breathe.”
“It’s all part of being human,” he said. “You don’t get to control that, either. You’re human. Not something you can change.”
He’d changed. Was as calm as she was agitated.
“Anything else?” he asked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorjamb. Not shutting her out, at all. He seemed really interested in anything she might have to impart.
But he wasn’t inviting her in.
“You didn’t take pain pills. No matter how bad your pain got, you’d made a choice that you’d deemed vitally important, with implications beyond your ability to endure physical pain, and you stuck to it.”
“Okay.”
He already knew that.
“That’s what I can trust,” she said. “And what I want to give to you. That bone-deep knowing that as long as I’m alive, I’ll endure whatever pain comes my way in order to keep loving you.”
His chin quivered, but he still didn’t move. “You’re telling me you believe in love?”
Crying again, Iris smiled, too. “You deserve your pound of flesh, counselor,” she said in a voice that wavered almost beyond comprehension. And then, with a deep, calming breath said, “I love you, Scott Martin, and if you’ll have me, knowing that I get weird sometimes, and that I will probably always struggle with bouts of fear, I would like to marry you and have kids with you.”
The words rushed out through a wall of fear.
But once they were out, as she watched Scott stand up straight, saw his arms reaching for her, she had no anxiety at all.
No heaviness, no dread, no shards darting through her. She saw light, the light in Scott’s eyes, and felt warmth, the warmth of his embrace, and knew that her answers had been right there, waiting for her all along.
Bad things happened. Life hurt sometimes.
But love really did have the ability to heal even the worst tragedies.
The human heart was capable.
It was just up to individuals to let it happen.
When Scott picked Iris up, kicking the door closed behind the girls as they trotted in, she held on to his neck, eager for the ride.
Knowing that she would have his love with her for every minute of the rest of eternity. Whether he was in bed with her, inside her, at work, or gone farther away, the love that was engulfing them would never leave her wholly alone.
Their lovemaking that night was rushed, almost desperate, and then, softer, sweeter. And when she finally lay down to rest, her head on Scott’s chest, Iris sighed.
“You’re my first and my always,” she whispered in the darkness.
“And you are mine,” he whispered back, the words following her into a peaceful rest that had been eluding her for years.
She woke once in the night. Lay there with her head next to Scott’s watching him sleep, thought about what she’d do if she ever lost him and swore that he smiled a little.
Because she was who she was. She’d experienced a trauma that would always be a part of her. And love was what it was. She could fear. But love would win.
With a smile of her own, Iris promised herself, and Scott, that she would never hide again.
And knew that if she did, Scott would always find her.
Always.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from An Alaskan Arrangement by Michelle Lindo-Rice!