Chapter Eight
Eight
On Halloween, Mark insisted that Sam be the one to take Holly to the activities in Friday Harbor, including a film show at the library, trick-or-treating at local stores, and a children’s party at the fairgrounds. “Make sure to drop by the toy shop to see Maggie,” Mark added.
“You sure?” Sam asked doubtfully.
“Yes. Everyone wants the two of you to meet, including Maggie herself. So go for it. Ask her out if you like her.”
“I don’t know,” Sam said. “You have that look on your face.”
“What look?”
“The look you get just before you kick someone’s ass.”
“I’m not going to kick anyone’s ass,” Mark said calmly. “She’s not mine. I’m with Shelby.”
“Then why does it feel like asking Maggie out would be rack jacking you?”
“It wouldn’t be rack jacking. I’m with Shelby.”
Sam had laughed quietly and scratched his head. “Your new mantra. Okay, I’ll check her out.”
Later Sam returned home with Holly, who’d had a wonderful time during the Halloween activies, and had filled an entire plastic pumpkin bucket with candy. Ceremoniously, they spread the candy on the table, surveyed it with admiration, and Holly chose two or three pieces to eat right then.
“Okay, upstairs to the bathtub,” Mark had said, bending down to let Holly climb onto his back. “This is about the grimiest, stickiest little fairy I’ve ever seen.”
“You don’t believe in fairies,” Holly said, giggling, as he carried her up the stairs piggyback.
“I do, too. I’ve got one right here.”
After drawing her bath and putting a clean nightgown and towel on the closed lid of the toilet seat, Mark went downstairs. Sam had just finished putting the candy into a large Ziploc, and was straightening up the kitchen.
“So?” Mark asked gruffly. “Did you go into the shop?”
“About twenty of them. The town was crazy-busy.”
“The toy shop, ” Mark said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, you’re asking about Maggie.” Sam reached into the fridge for a beer. “Yeah, she’s a hottie. And Holly’s crazy about her. She sat on the counter and helped Maggie hand out candy. I think she would’ve stayed there all night if I’d let her.” He paused, tilting back the beer. “But I’m not going to ask Maggie out.”
Mark watched him alertly. “Why not?”
“She gave me the Heisman.”
“The what?”
“You know—” Sam mimicked the outstretched blocking arm of the Heisman Trophy pose. “She was friendly, but not interested.”
“Well, she should be,” Mark said in annoyance. “You’re single, decent-looking…what’s her problem?”
Sam shrugged. “She’s a widow. Maybe she’s not finished grieving for her husband.”
“It’s time for her to be finished,” Mark said. “It’s been two years. She needs to start living again. She needs to take a chance on someone.”
“Like you?” Sam asked perceptively.
Mark shot him a dark glance. “I’m with Shelby.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Sam said with a quiet laugh. “Keep repeating it. Maybe at some point you’ll start believing it.”
Mark went upstairs, disgruntled. He told himself it wasn’t his business if or when Maggie started going out again. Why, then, did the situation bother him so much?
He found Holly in her room, dressed in her pink nightgown, waiting in bed for him to tuck her in. The bedside lamp was on, warm light glowing through the pink lampshade. Holly’s gaze was fixed on the pair of fairy wings, which were hanging on the back of a chair. Her fair ivory skin was dappled with red patches. Mark’s heart was wrenched with concern when he saw that her eyes were wet.
Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he pulled her up against him. “What is it?” he whispered. “What’s the matter?”
Holly’s voice was muffled. “I wish my mom could have seen me in my costume.”
Mark kissed her light hair and the delicate curve of her ear. And for a long time he just held her. “I miss her, too,” he finally said. “I think she’s watching over you, even though you can’t see or hear her.”
“Like an angel?”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe in angels?”
“Yes,” Mark said without hesitation, despite everything he had ever said or thought to the contrary. Because there was no reason for him not to allow for the possibility, especially if it comforted Holly.
Holly drew back to look at him. “I didn’t think you would.”
“I do,” Mark said. “Faith is a choice. I can believe in angels if I want to.”
“I believe in them, too.”
Mark smoothed her hair. “No one’s ever going to replace your mom. But I love you as much as she did, and I’ll always take care of you. And so will Sam.”
“And Uncle Alex.”
“And Uncle Alex. But I was thinking…what if I marry someone who would help me to take care of you, and love you in a mom-type way? Would you like that?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What about Shelby? You like her, right?”
Holly considered that. “Did you fall in love with her?”
“I care about her. A lot.”
“You’re not supposed to marry someone if you don’t fall in love with her.”
“Well, love is a choice, too.”
Holly shook her head. “I think it’s something that happens to you.”
Mark smiled into her small, earnest face. “Maybe it’s both,” he said, and tucked her in.
The following weekend, Mark went to Seattle to visit Shelby. Her cousin’s engagement party would be held on Friday night at the Seattle Yacht Club on Portage Bay. It was yet another step in the progression of their relationship: attending a family event, meeting Shelby’s parents for the first time. He expected to get along well with them. From her descriptions, they seemed like decent, normal people.
“You will love them, I promise,” Shelby had told him. “And they will love you.”
The word “love” made Mark tense. So far, he and Shelby had not gotten to the point when either of them had said “I love you,” but Mark sensed that she wanted to. And it made him feel as guilty as hell, because he wasn’t looking forward to it. Of course he would say it back. And he would mean it, but probably not in the way that she wanted him to mean it.
A few months ago, Mark would have assumed that love was an ability he lacked. But Holly had disproved that entirely. Because the feeling of wanting to protect Holly, to give her everything, this soul-deep urge to make her happy…it was unquestionably love. Nothing Mark had ever felt before came close.
On Friday afternoon Mark took a flight to Seattle, worried as hell because Holly had come home from school with a slight fever. Ninety-nine point nine. “I should cancel,” he had told Sam.
“You’re kidding, right? Shelby would kill you. I got it covered. Holly will be fine.”
“Don’t let her stay up late,” Mark had said sternly. “Don’t let her eat crap. Don’t miss her next dose of ibuprofen, or—”
“Yeah, I know. Everything’s fine.”
“If Holly’s still sick tomorrow, the pediatrician’s office is open until noon on Saturdays—”
“I know. I know all the stuff you know. If you don’t leave now, you’re gonna miss your flight.”
Mark had left reluctantly after dosing Holly with ibuprofen. He had left her resting on the sofa, watching a movie. She looked small and fragile, her cheeks colorless. It bothered him to leave her, even though Sam had assured him everything would be all right. “I’ll have my cell phone with me,” he had told her. “If you want to talk to me, if you need me, you call whenever you want. Okay, sweetheart?”
“Okay.” And Holly had given him the toothy little grin that never failed to melt his heart. Leaning over her, he kissed her forehead, and they rubbed noses.
It felt wrong to walk out of the house and go to the airport. Every instinct prompted him to stay. But Mark knew how much the weekend meant to Shelby, and he had no desire to hurt or embarrass her by not showing up to a family event.
In Seattle, Shelby picked him up at the airport in her sleek BMW Z4. She wore a sexy black dress and high-heeled pumps, her blond hair styled loose and straight. A beautiful, classy woman. Any guy would be lucky to have her, he thought. He liked Shelby. He admired her. He enjoyed her company. But the lack of turbulence and intensity between them, which had always seemed so right before, had begun to seem vaguely wrong.
“We’re meeting Bill and Allison for dinner before the party,” Shelby said. Allison had been her best friend since college, and was now the mother of three children.
“Great.” Mark hoped he would be able to get his mind off Holly long enough to enjoy dinner. Pulling out his phone, he checked to see if there were any messages from Sam.
Nothing.
Noticing his frown, Shelby asked, “How’s Holly? Still under the weather?”
Mark nodded. “She’s never been sick before. At least, not since she’s been with me. She had a fever when I left.”
“She’ll be fine,” came Shelby’s soothing reply. A smile curved her lightly glossed lips. “I think you’re sweet to be so concerned about her.”
They went to a casually sophisticated restaurant in downtown Seattle, the main room dominated by a twenty-foot central tower of wine bottles. They ordered an excellent pinot noir for the table, and Mark drained his glass quickly, hoping it would help him to relax.
It had begun to rain outside, water glittering on the windows. The rain was slow but steady, the clouds piled like unfolded laundry. Buildings crouched patiently beneath the elements, letting the storm water run through paved cascades and across vegetated swales, and into roadside rain gardens. Seattle was a city that knew what to do with water.
As Mark watched the oblique patterns of rivulets sliding along building exteriors of stone and glass, he couldn’t help thinking of the rainy night, less than a year ago, that had changed everything. He realized that before Holly, he had measured out his emotions as if they were some finite substance. Now there was no hope of stopping or containing them. Was parenting ever going to get easier? Did you ever reach a point where you could stop worrying?
“This is a new side of you,” Shelby said with a quizzical smile as she saw Mark checking his phone for the twentieth time during dinner. “Sweetie, if Sam hasn’t called, that means everything’s okay.”
“It could mean something’s wrong and he hasn’t had a chance to call,” Mark said.
Allison and Bill, the other couple, exchanged the smiling, slightly superior glances of experienced parents. “It’s hardest with the first one,” Allison said. “You’re scared every time they get a fever…by the time you have the second or third, you stop worrying so much.”
“Kids are pretty resilient,” Bill added.
Knowing that all of this was intended to ease Mark’s worry didn’t help one bit.
“He’ll be a good father someday,” Shelby told Allison in a smiling aside.
The praise, which probably should have pleased Mark, elicited a flare of irritation. Someday? He was a father now . There was more to being a parent than a biological contribution…in fact, that was the least part of it.
“I need to leave for just a minute to call Sam,” he told Shelby. “I just want to find out if the fever’s gone.”
“Okay, if it will help you to stop worrying,” Shelby said. “Then we can enjoy the rest of the evening.” She gave him a meaningful glance. “Right?”
“Right.” Mark leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Excuse me.” He stood from the table, went to the restaurant lobby, and pulled out his cell phone. He knew that Shelby and the other couple thought he was overreacting, but he didn’t give a damn. He needed to know that Holly was okay.
The call was picked up. He heard his brother’s voice. “Mark?”
“Yeah. How is she?”
A nerve-wracking pause followed. “Not great, actually.”
Mark felt his blood turn to ice water. “What do you mean, ‘Not great’?”
“She started throwing up not long after you left. She’s been puking her guts out. I never would’ve believed one little body could produce so much evil stuff.”
“What are you doing for her? Have you called the doctor?”
“Of course I did.”
“What did he say?”
“That it’s probably flu, and to give her sips of an oral rehydration fluid. And he said the ibuprofen may have made her sick to her stomach, so we’re going to go with just Tylenol now.”
“Does she still have a fever?”
“One hundred two, last time I checked. Unfortunately she can’t keep the medicine down long enough for it to do much good.”
Mark gripped the phone tightly. He’d never wanted anything as much as he wanted to be back on the island, right then, taking care of Holly. “Do you have everything you need?”
“Actually, I have to pick up some stuff at the grocery store, like Jell-O and clear broth, so I’m going to get someone to babysit for a little while.”
“I’m coming back.”
“No, don’t. I’ve got a whole list of people I can call. And I…oh, Jesus, she’s throwing up again. Gotta go.”
The connection went dead. Mark tried to think above the rush of panic. He called the airline for a reservation on the next flight to Friday Harbor, called for a cab, and strode back to the table.
“Thank goodness,” Shelby exclaimed with a taut smile. “I wondered what was taking you so long.”
“I’m sorry. But Holly’s very sick. I have to go back.”
“Tonight?” Shelby asked, frowning. “Now?”
Mark nodded and described the situation. Allison and Bill looked sympathetic, while Shelby appeared increasingly distressed. This sign of concern for Holly gave Mark a new sense of partnership with her, a feeling of connection. He wondered if she would consider going back with him. He wouldn’t ask her to, but if she offered…
Standing from the table, Shelby touched his arm gently. “Let’s talk about this in private.” She sent a somewhat weary smile in Allison’s direction. “Back in a sec.”
“Absolutely.” And the two women exchanged one of those unfathomable female something-is-brewing glances.
Shelby went with Mark to the entrance of the restaurant, to a corner where they could talk undisturbed.
“Shelby—” Mark began.
“Listen,” she interrupted gently, “I’m not trying to frame this as a choose-between-Holly-or-me thing…but she’ll be fine without you. And I won’t be. I want you to come to this party tonight, and meet my family. There’s nothing you can do for Holly that Sam’s not already doing.”
By the time she had finished speaking, Mark’s feelings of warmth and connection had vanished. No matter what she said, she was making him choose between her and Holly. “I know that,” he said. “But I want to be the one doing it for her. And there’s no way I could have a good time tonight, knowing my kid is sick. I’d be in a corner with my cell phone the whole time.”
“But Holly’s not yours. Not your own kid.”
Mark looked at Shelby as if he’d never seen her before. What was the implication? That his concern for Holly wasn’t valid because she wasn’t his biological child? That he wasn’t entitled to worry about her to this extent?
It was often in small moments that significant things were revealed. And with that spare handful of words, his and Shelby’s relationship had undergone a sea change. Was he being unreasonable? Was he overreacting? He didn’t give a damn. His first concern was for Holly.
When Shelby saw Mark’s expression, she lifted her impatient gaze heavenward. “I didn’t mean it to sound like that.”
His brain methodically rearranged the words into a more precise truth. She had meant it, despite how it had sounded.
“It’s okay.” Mark paused, feeling the supportive trusses of their relationship being dismantled in this conversation, every word a hatchet-strike. “But she is mine, Shelby. My responsibility.”
“Sam’s, too.”
He shook his head. “Sam is helping. But I’m her only legal guardian.”
“So she needs two grown men hovering over her?”
Mark replied carefully. “I need to be there.”
Shelby nodded and let out a slow breath. “Okay. Obviously there’s no point debating this right now. Should I take you to the airport?”
“I called for a cab.”
“I’d offer to come with you, but I want to be there for my cousin tonight.”
“I understand.” Mark put a hand on her back in a gesture of appeasement. Her spine was stiff and straight, as if it had been carved in ice. “I’m going to take care of dinner. I’ll leave my credit card number with the hostess.”
“Thank you. Bill and Allison will appreciate that.” Shelby looked glum. “Call me later and let me know how Holly is. Although I already know she’ll be fine.”
“Okay.” He leaned down to kiss her, and she turned her face so that his lips met her cheek.