Chapter 23
Twenty-three
In the morning they treated each other with the forced casualness of two people desperately trying to pretend nothing had changed, when everything had. Zoe found it unbearable, trying to pretend to be light and cheerful when she could see the way Alex was pulling back from her. They talked impersonally while he drove her to the cottage. It was positively gruesome, Zoe thought privately, feeling miserable and defiant. She knew with every fiber of her being that Alex loved her but would never admit it, that he wanted her to love him but would never allow it.
The home-care nurse’s car was in the driveway. Justine had already returned to the inn.
Pausing at the front door, Zoe turned to face Alex. “Last night was fun,” she said brightly. “Thanks.”
He leaned forward and brushed a light, dry kiss against her lips. His gaze didn’t quite meet hers. “It was fun,” he agreed.
“Will I see you later?” Zoe asked. “Maybe tonight?”
Alex shook his head. “I’m going to be busy the next couple of days with this Inari stuff. But I’ll call you.”
“No… don’t,” she heard herself say.
Alex looked at her then, his eyes questioning.
Zoe didn’t want to keep up pretenses. The idea of waiting and wondering while their relationship drained like sand in an hourglass was too depressing. She had to be honest with him. “What I said last night… I’m sorry it freaked you out. But I can’t take it back. And I don’t want to.”
“I don’t—”
“Please let me finish,” she said with a wavering smile. “If this is the point where you feel like breaking it off, that’s okay.” She reached up to touch his taut cheek. “The only thing is… if you want this to go on, we can’t pretend last night didn’t happen. You have to be okay with me loving you… or else we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”
He was silent for a long moment, his face expressionless. “Maybe we should take a break.”
“Okay,” she whispered, her heart plummeting.
It was over. He was right there with her, but the distance between them might as well have been infinity.
“Just for a few days,” he said.
“Absolutely.” She wanted to plead with him. “Don’t leave me. Let me love you. I need you.” Somehow she managed to lock the words away before they could escape.
“But if you need anything,” Alex said, “call me.”
Never. She wouldn’t do that to him, or herself.
“Yes.” Zoe turned and fumbled in her bag for her key, and somehow managed to unlock the front door. “Bye,” she said without turning back, her eyes burning. And she went inside and closed the door.
***
The ghost didn’t say anything until they had returned to Rainshadow Road. Alex felt sick and exhausted. He hadn’t slept all night, he’d just watched Zoe while she had pretended to sleep. He longed to jump into the truck and go back to her, but at the same time he couldn’t handle it if she said those three words again. That had been the deal breaker. He knew he was screwed up—hell, he’d never doubted it—but this wasn’t something he could joke about or sneer at or ignore. This was painful.
He went to the kitchen and saw the place at the counter where Zoe had leaned while he’d undressed her. He remembered the intense pleasure of the previous night, the earth-shattering joy and tenderness of a physical act that could only be described as making love. He’d never known anything like it before… he hoped he never would again.
His gaze touched on a bottle of half-finished wine, a cork wedged in the top. Sam’s wine. Despite the early hour, Alex wanted a drink more than he ever had in his life. Whenever something went wrong, something in his gut clamored for booze. He wondered if that would ever change. Swallowing an excess of saliva, he went to the sink and splashed cold water on his face.
The ghost spoke behind him. “So this is it, I guess.”
“I’m not listening,” Alex said hoarsely, but the ghost was undeterred.
“Zoe committed the unforgivable crime of saying she loves you—for what reasons I can’t begin to imagine—and now you’re bailing on her. You know what’s funny? I heard Darcy tell you dozens of times how much she hated you, and you couldn’t seem to get enough of that. Why is it easier to tolerate a woman who hates you than one who loves you?”
Alex turned, swiping at the excess water on his face, pushing back wet locks of hair. “It won’t last.”
“That’s what I used to think,” the ghost said. At Alex’s stony silence, the ghost looked grim and defeated. “I’ve never understood why I’ve been shackled to you. I probably never will. There’s no point in any of this. I should be with Emma, not you. What’s going to happen to her when she passes on and I’m not there?”
“Nothing will happen. She’s going to die whether you’re there or not. She’ll end up where she’s supposed to be, and you’ll end up where you’re supposed to be, and God willing, I’ll be left alone.”
“You don’t believe in God. You don’t believe in anything. You asked if I could find a way to disappear, and I told you I was afraid that if I tried, I wouldn’t be able to talk to you anymore. Now I don’t care. Might as well be invisible.” He saw Alex’s gaze alighting on the wine bottle once more. His mouth twisted with scorn. “Go ahead and have a drink. What does it matter? I’d pour one for you if I could.”
In the blink of an eye, he was gone.
The kitchen was quiet.
“Tom?” Alex asked, almost stunned by the complete absence of movement or sound.
No reply.
“Good riddance,” Alex said aloud. He went to the wine bottle, his hand closing around it. The weight of the liquid inside, the inky slosh of it against the glass, wrenched him with sudden craving. He pulled the cork from it with his teeth and began to take a swig. Out of the corner of his eye, however, he saw a shadow slide across the floor.
In an explosive movement, Alex hurled the bottle at the dark shape, and the glass shattered everywhere. Wine hit the cabinet in splatters. The rich smell of cabernet flooded the room. Alex sat and leaned back against a cabinet, gripping his head in his hands, while red liquid pooled on the floor and spread outward.
***
“What kind of curse?” Justine asked, flipping busily through a tattered old book in the kitchen while Zoe made breakfast. “Let’s see. Impotence? Warts, boils? Digestive upset, halitosis, hair loss… I think we’ll let him keep his sex drive, but we’ll make him so hideous no one will want him.”
Zoe shook her head in bemusement, using an ice cream scoop to fill muffin pans with batter. That morning she had admitted to Justine that she and Alex had broken up a few days earlier, and Justine had practically gone on a rampage. She seemed convinced that she could exact some kind of supernatural revenge on Zoe’s behalf.
“Justine,” she asked mildly, “what are you looking at?”
“A book my mother gave me. Lots of good ideas in here. Hmm, maybe a plague of some kind… frogs or something…”
“Justine,” Zoe said, “I don’t want to curse anyone.”
“Of course you don’t, you’re much too nice. But I don’t have that problem.”
Setting aside the scoop, Zoe went to the table where Justine was sitting. She glanced at the grimy, ancient-looking book, which was filled with bizarre symbols and mildly alarming illustrations. A touch of something weirdly gelatinous dripped down the side. “Good Lord. Justine, make sure to wash your hands after handling that disgusting thing… there’s goo over all the pages.”
“No, not all the pages, it’s just chapter three. It always oozes a little.”
Grimacing, Zoe brought some Windex and paper towels to the table. “Cover it back up,” she commanded, gesturing to the piece of cloth the book had been wrapped in.
“Wait, let me just find a quick little spell—”
“Now,” Zoe said inexorably.
Scowling, Justine wrapped the book in the cloth and held it in her lap, while Zoe cleaned the table.
“I don’t know if you’re being serious or just having fun,” Zoe said, “but there is no need for spells or curses. If a man doesn’t want to be with me, he’s allowed to make that decision.”
“I agree,” Justine said. “He’s allowed to make that decision. And I’m allowed to make him suffer for it.”
“Do not put a spell on Alex. You didn’t put one on Duane, did you?”
“If you ever see him without his sideburns, you’ll know why.”
“Well, I want you to leave Alex alone.”
Justine’s shoulders slumped. “Zoe, you’re the only real family I’ve ever had. My dad’s gone, and my mom is one of those women who should never have had a child. But somehow I got lucky enough to have you in my life. You’re the only really good person I’ve ever known. You know enough about me to hurt me worse than anyone else ever could, but you would never do that. No sister could love you as much as I do.”
“I love you, too,” Zoe said, sitting next to her, smiling through a sheen of tears.
“I wish there were a spell to find a man who would treat you the way you deserve. But spells don’t work that way. I knew right away that Alex was dangerous for you, and the worst thing in the world is to see someone you care about headed toward danger and not be able to stop them. So I don’t think a curse—a small one—is entirely unwarranted.”
Zoe leaned against her, and they sat together silently.
Eventually Zoe said, “Alex is cursed enough, Justine. You couldn’t do anything to him that would be worse than what he’s already been through.” Standing, she went back to the counter to finish filling the muffin pan. “Do you want a plastic bag to keep that revolting book in?”
Justine held the book defensively. “No, it needs to breathe.”
As Zoe put the muffin pan into the oven, her cell phone went off. Her heart skipped a beat, as it had for the past few days every time someone called. She knew it wasn’t Alex, but she couldn’t help wanting it to be him. “Would you get that for me?” she asked. “It’s in my bag on the back of the chair.”
“Sure.”
“Wipe your hands first,” Zoe said hastily.
Making a face at her, Justine sprayed Windex on her hands and scrubbed them with a paper towel. She reached into Zoe’s bag for the phone. “It’s your home number,” she said, lifting it to her ear. “Hi, this is Justine, Zoe’s in the middle of something. Can I take a message?”
A moment of silence. “She’ll be there soon.” Another pause. “I know, but she’ll want to come. Okay, Jeannie.”
“What is it?” Zoe asked, sliding another muffin pan into the oven.
“Nothing serious. Jeannie says Emma’s blood pressure is slightly elevated, and she seems confused. Mixing up her words a little more than usual. Jeannie’s giving her medicine and says there’s no need for you to go over there, but you heard what I said.”
“Thanks, Justine.” Zoe’s frown deepened. Removing her apron, she tossed it to the counter. “Take those muffins out in exactly fifteen minutes, okay?”
“Yes. Call me when you can. Let me know if you end up having to take her to the ER.”
Zoe reached the cottage in fifteen minutes flat. She hadn’t seen Emma that morning—when Jeannie had arrived, Emma had still been sleeping. It had been the latest in a string of rough nights. Emma’s sundowning was getting worse, with confusion and irritability in the evenings. She wasn’t sleeping well. Jeannie had made several helpful suggestions, such as encouraging Emma to take naps during the day, and listening to soothing music just before bedtime. “Dementia patients tend to get overwhelmed near the end of the day,” Jeannie had explained. “Even the simple things are a lot for them to handle.”
Although Zoe had been warned what to expect, it was stressful to see her grandmother behaving in ways that weren’t at all like her. When Emma couldn’t find a pair of embroidered slippers, she had mortified Zoe by accusing Jeannie of stealing them. Fortunately Jeannie had been kind and calm, and not at all offended. “She’ll do and say many things she doesn’t mean,” she had said. “It’s part of the disease.”
Entering the cottage, Zoe saw her grandmother sitting on the couch, her face lined and tired. Jeannie was sitting beside her, trying to brush her tangled hair, but Emma pushed her hand away irritably.
“Upsie,” Zoe said with a smile, approaching her. “How are you feeling?”
“You’re late,” Emma said. “I didn’t like my lunch. Jeannie made me a hamburger, and it was too raw inside because I wouldn’t eat it if I didn’t. Because I didn’t like my lunch and you make lunch when it’s not raw but I won’t eat.”
Zoe struggled to maintain her calm expression, while panic surged inside. Even for Emma, this “word salad” was unusual.
Jeannie stood and brought the hairbrush to Zoe, murmuring, “Stress. She’ll get better once the blood pressure medication takes effect.”
“I didn’t like my lunch,” Emma insisted.
“It’s not lunchtime yet,” Zoe said, sitting beside her, “but when it is, I’ll make you whatever you want. Let me brush your hair, Upsie.”
“I want Tom,” Emma said gravely. “Tell Alex to bring him.”
“Okay.” Although Zoe wanted to ask who Tom was, she thought that it was better just to agree, until Emma’s blood pressure lowered. Gently Zoe drew the brush over her hair, pausing to pull apart a tangle. Emma fell silent for a while, seeming to enjoy the feeling of Zoe’s hands in her hair. The simple task helped them both to relax.
How many countless times Emma had done the same thing for Zoe, when she was a little girl. Emma had always finished by telling her that she was beautiful, inside and out, and those words had taken root inside her. Everyone should have someone who loved them unconditionally… and for Zoe, it had always been Emma.
When Zoe was done, she set aside the brush and smiled into her grandmother’s face. “Beautiful,” she said, “inside and out.”
Emma’s arms went around her. They hugged each other in a moment of pure quiet joy, with no thought of the past or future. They focused on what they had right now, together.
***
Emma rested for most of the afternoon, while Jeannie kept an eye on her blood pressure. Finally satisfied that the hypertension had subsided, Jeannie left for the day. “Try to get her to sip some water at every opportunity,” she told Zoe. “She keeps forgetting to drink, and we don’t want her to become dehydrated.”
Zoe nodded. “Thank you, Jeannie—I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you do for Emma. And for me. We couldn’t do without you.”
The nurse smiled at her. “I’m glad to help. By the way, you may want to give Emma one of the prescription sedatives after dinner, to get a head start on the sundowning. She had a lot of rest today, and even though she needed it, sleeping tonight may be a dicey proposition without a little help.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
Having discovered that Emma stayed calmer when the television was off during the evening, Zoe played some quiet music instead. The strains of “We’ll Meet Again” floated softly through the air. Emma listened as if mesmerized.
“When is Alex coming?” she asked.
The question made Zoe’s heart ache. She missed Alex the most in the evenings, the relaxed conversation while he helped put away the dishes, the way he would hold her and rub her back. One night he had discovered that his laser measure, with its red dot of light dancing across the floor, would drive Byron wild. Alex had sent the cat in circles across the room, chasing after the dot, and then he would switch it off so that Byron thought it was trapped beneath his paw. Watching their antics, Emma had laughed so hard she’d nearly fallen off the couch. On another evening, having learned that Emma was having trouble remembering where things were kept in the kitchen cabinets, Alex had labeled each door with a sticky note, one for plates, another for glasses, another for flatware, and so forth. The sticky notes were still there, making Zoe’s heart twinge every time she saw them.
“I don’t know when Alex will be here,” she told Emma. Or if he’ll ever come back.
“Tom is with him. I want Tom. Can you call Alex?”
“Who is Tom?”
“A rascal.” Emma smiled slightly. “A heartbreaker.”
An old boyfriend. Zoe smiled back at her. “Were you in love with him?” she asked softly.
“Yes. Yes. Call Alex and ask him to bring Tom.”
“A little later, after my bath,” Zoe said, hoping Emma would forget about it as the sedative kicked in. She gave her grandmother a quizzical smile, wondering what connection she had made between her old boyfriend and Alex. “Does Alex remind you of Tom?”
“Oh, yes. Both tall and dark-haired. And Tom was a carpenter. He made such beautiful things.”
There was no telling whether Tom had been real, Zoe thought, or was perhaps a figment of Emma’s imagination.
“I’m tired,” Emma murmured, twisting one of the buttons along the front of her flower-printed pajamas. “I want to see him, Lorraine. I’ve waited for so long.”
Lorraine had been one of Emma’s sisters. Swallowing hard, Zoe leaned over and kissed her. “I’m going to take my bath,” she whispered. “Rest here and listen to the music.”
Emma nodded, staring at the windows, the sky darkening to twilight.
Zoe drew a bath and sank into the hot water with a sigh. She would have liked to soak for a while, but allowed herself only about ten minutes, reluctant to leave Emma unsupervised for any longer than that. Letting the water out of the tub, she dried herself and dressed in a nightgown and a robe.
“Much better,” she said with a smile, walking into the main room.
There was no reply. The couch was empty.
“Upsie?” Zoe glanced around the silent kitchen, and strode into her bedroom. No sign of Emma anywhere.
Zoe’s pulse began to race. So far Emma hadn’t yet started to wander, which was usually a feature of a more advanced stage of dementia. But there had been a definite downturn today. And she had been so insistent on seeing this mysterious Tom, and having Alex bring him… Rushing to the front door, Zoe saw that it was unlocked. She darted outside, her breath coming in frantic bursts. “Upsie, where are you?”
***
Alex had just concluded a walk to the periphery of his Dream Lake parcel with a Realtor and a lawyer, both of whom worked for Inari Enterprises. They had met for dinner in town, and afterward had gone to the property. They had strolled along a bulldozed trail to the lakefront, ostensibly to get a feel for the land, but mainly to get a bead on what kind of guy Alex was. The meeting had gone well as far as Alex could tell.
Night was falling by the time he got into his truck. As he turned the key in the ignition, his phone vibrated, and he glanced at the small screen. The sight of Zoe’s number caused a tumult of eagerness. He was starved for the sound of her voice. Without even thinking, he answered.
“Hi,” he said. “I’ve been—”
“Alex.” Zoe sounded desperate, shaky. “I’m sorry, I—please help me. I need help.”
“What is it?” he asked instantly.
“Emma’s missing. I just took a bath, and… she’s only been gone for fifteen minutes, but she wandered off and I’ve been calling for her.” Zoe was sobbing and talking at the same time. “I’m outside right now. I’ve gone all around the outside of the house and she won’t answer, and it’s dark—”
“Zoe. I’m close by. I’ll be right there.” All he could hear was the broken sound of her crying. He was fiercely glad that she had turned to him for help. “Sweetheart. Did you hear me?”
“Y-yes.”
“Don’t be scared. We’ll find her.”
“I don’t want to call the police. I think she would try to hide from them.” More crying. “She’s had part of a sedative. And tonight she kept talking about you, and s-some guy named Tom, and she wanted me to ask you to bring him. I think she went out looking for you.”
“Okay. I’m less than a minute away from the cottage.”
“I’m sorry,” Zoe choked. “Sorry to bother you, but—”
“I told you to call if you needed something. I meant it.”
He’d meant it even more than he’d realized. Even in these circumstances, talking with Zoe was a relief beyond measure. It was like being able to breathe again. He realized he wasn’t going to be able to walk away from Zoe this time. Something had changed in him, or… no, something had not changed. That was the point. His feelings for Zoe hadn’t changed and never would. She was a part of him. The revelation astonished him, but there was no time to think about it now.
As he drove, he scanned the heavily forested road for any sign of Emma. She couldn’t have gotten far in such a short amount of time, especially not while sedated. The only thing he worried about was the lake being in such proximity. “Zoe,” he said, “have you gone to the waterfront yet?”
“I’m headed there right now.” She sounded calmer now, although she was still sniffling.
“Good. I’m pulling into the driveway. I’m going to check out the woods on the other side of the road and work back to the house. What is she wearing?”
“Light-colored pajamas.”
“We’ll find her soon, sweetheart. I promise.”
“Thank you.” He heard the sound of her unsteady sigh. “You never called me that before.”
She ended the connection before he could answer.
Alex jumped out of the truck and nearly yelped as he came face-to-face with the ghost. “Jesus!”
Tom gave him a sardonic glance. “No, it’s just me.”
“It’s about time you showed up.”
“This has nothing to do with you,” Tom informed him. “I just want to help find Emma. Start calling for her.”
“Emma,” Alex shouted. “Emma, are you out here?” He stopped as he heard the sound of a distant female voice, but he recognized it immediately as Zoe’s. Continuing to search, he went into the woods, periodically calling Emma’s name.
Tom strayed from Alex as far as he could, wandering among the trees. “She wouldn’t have gone any farther than this,” he said. “I don’t think she crossed the road—let’s head back toward the house.”
Night was lowering fast, opaque and plum-colored where it draped over the lake.
“Emma,” Alex called out. “It’s Alex. I’m here with Tom. Come out so I can see you.”
The twin high beams of a car slanted outward from a deep curve in the road. It was coming fast, too fast for such a narrow lane, so Alex retreated to the side, waiting for it to pass.
“Alex,” came Tom’s voice, harsh with fear.
At the same moment, Alex saw Emma’s slight form wavering unsteadily toward the center of the road. She looked uncertain, wide-eyed, her skin brilliant in the stark glare of headlights. The car was coming around the curve. By the time the driver saw her, it would be too late.
Zoe, who had just returned from the lake, approached the opposite side of the road from Alex. Her face contorted with horror as she saw Emma standing in the path of the oncoming vehicle.
Alex sprinted toward Emma, a rush of adrenaline making him lightning-fast. He reached her, shoved hard, and felt a massive impact that knocked him to the ground. Everything spun, the world turning too fast, his flesh translating to fire. But the scalding premonition of pain vanished instantly. He wasn’t hurt. He’d just had the wind knocked out of him.
It took him a few seconds to recover himself. Dazedly he sat up, looked around, and saw with relief that he’d succeeded in pushing Emma out of the way. She had stumbled against Zoe, who had caught her. They’d fallen to the ground, but Zoe was already helping Emma up.
Everything was all right. Everyone was fine.
That was a close one, he was about to say, when Zoe looked at him and gave an anguished scream. She began to sob, Alex, no, no … running toward him, tears streaming down her face.
“It’s okay,” Alex said, amazed that she would be so concerned for him. A rush of overwhelming tenderness swept over him. He stood and began to walk toward her. “The car just bumped me. I’ve got a couple of bruises, nothing more. I’m fine. I love you.” He couldn’t believe he’d just said it, for the first time in his life. And it was so damned easy. “I love you.”
“Alex,” she choked. “Oh, God, please, no …”
And she rushed right past him.
No, not past. Through him.
Startled, he turned to see Zoe dropping to the ground, huddling over a crumpled shape on the road. Her shoulders shook violently, and she crooned a few broken words.
“That’s… me?” Alex asked in bewilderment, backing away. He looked down at his arms and legs. They weren’t there. Nothing was there. He was invisible. His gaze returned to the two figures on the road… the body Zoe was crouching over. “That’s me,” he said, his emotions racing across the spectrum from joy to despair.
He wanted to cry, he could feel the agony of sorrow, but his eyes remained dry.
“You never get used to grief without tears,” came a quiet voice beside him. “Who’d have thought one of the things you miss the most is crying?”
“Tom.” Alex turned and seized his forearms desperately. He was shocked to be able to feel the texture and strength of a human form. “What do I do now?” he asked.
“Nothing.” Tom stared at him with grim compassion. “All you can do now is watch.”
Alex’s gaze returned compulsively to Zoe. “I love her. I have to be with her.”
“You can’t.”
“Goddamn it, I didn’t get to say good-bye to her!”
“Easy with the language,” Tom said. “You’re not one for hedging your bets, are you?”
“There are things she needs to know. My life can’t be over yet. I didn’t have enough time with her.”
Tom looked exasperated. “What do you think I’ve been trying to tell you, you lunkhead?”
“If there is a God, I’d like to tell Him to—”
“Shut up.” The ghost shook free of him impatiently. “I just heard something.”
All Alex could hear was Zoe’s broken crooning.
Tom stared distractedly up at the sky, wandering away a couple of steps.
“What are you doing?” Alex demanded.
“Someone’s trying to tell me something. I hear a voice. A couple of voices.”
“What are they saying?”
“If you would just shut your piehole long enough for me to hear them, I’ll—” His attention returned to the sky. “Okay, I get it. Yes. Uh-huh. Right.” After a moment, he looked at Alex. “They’re letting me help you.”
“Who’s they?”
“Not sure. But they said we only have about fifteen seconds left before it’s too late.”
“Too late for what?”
“ Quiet. They just told me how to fix this, and I’m trying to remember everything.”
“Fix what? Fix me?”
“Don’t distract me. Shut up and go stand next to the body.”
The body. His body. Alex wanted so damn badly to be alive, to inhabit that broken carbon shell even for a few moments. Just long enough to tell her what she meant to him. Standing over the prone form, he saw his own still face. Zoe’s hand caressed his motionless jaw, her fingers trembling against his parted lips. The sounds she made were like the fabric of a soul being torn apart. He would never have dreamed anyone could feel such grief for him.
Precious seconds were ticking away.
“Tom,” he said desperately, his gaze locked on Zoe. “Nothing’s happening.”
“I’ll take care of my part of this.” The ghost was at his side. “You do your part.”
“Which is?”
“Focus on Zoe. Tell her what you’d say if you had a couple of extra minutes with her. Pretend she can hear you.”
Alex knelt over her, longing to stroke her hair and dry her tears. But he couldn’t hold her. He couldn’t feel or smell or kiss her. All he could do was love her. “I’m so sorry,” he said urgently. “I don’t want to leave you. I love you, Zoe. You were the one miracle I believed in. You made up for all the rest of it. I wish you could hear me. I wish you could know that.” He felt dizzy, felt himself fragmenting, the bonds of spiritual matter dissolving. The remnants of consciousness slipped between the blurred margins of life and afterlife. His last few seconds were slipping away. Words were no longer possible. Only thoughts were left, moving outward like a row of toppling dominoes. No matter what I become … I will love you. No force of heaven or hell could stop me, and damn anyone who tries. I will love you forever.
Everything went dark, the stars extinguished as the sky collapsed and the world folded in on itself.
***
“Blaspheming to the end,” Alex heard someone say dryly. “Can’t say I was surprised.”
Alex recognized Tom’s voice. He felt like he’d been encased in lead, his limbs too heavy to move. And then it hit him: he was in a body. He had a physical form.
“Wasn’t easy to get you in there,” Tom informed him. “Like trying to put toothpaste back in the tube.”
Gathering sensations in a frantic rush, Alex perceived that he was lying on asphalt, his neck angled uncomfortably because of the way Zoe was clutching his head against her chest. His lungs felt like they were about to burst.
“Try breathing,” Tom suggested.
Alex pulled in a rush of cool, blessed air, blinked his eyes open, and began to move.
Zoe let out a startled cry. “Alex!” Her shaking hands moved over him. “But… you were… your chest was all… there was no way you could have…” Overcome, she covered her mouth with one hand, staring at him in terrified wonder.
With effort, Alex levered himself to a sitting position. He grasped Zoe’s wrist and pulled it away, and crushed a hard kiss against her lips. He tasted the salt of her tears. “I love you,” he said hoarsely.
Breathing in sobs, Zoe stared at him with streaming eyes.
Tom spoke to him urgently. “Help Emma. She needs to go inside the house.”
Emma was kneeling nearby, watching them blearily, the breeze blowing locks of silvery hair across her face.
Alex struggled to his feet and pulled Zoe up with him.
“Maybe you shouldn’t try to walk,” Zoe protested.
“I’m fine.”
“Alex, you were hurt. I saw it.”
“I know what it must have looked like,” Alex said gently. “But everything’s okay. I promise.”
The driver of the car, a distraught middle-aged woman, was babbling about insurance and phone numbers and calling paramedics. Alex said to Zoe, “If you could take care of her, I’m going to bring Emma inside.” Without waiting for a reply, he bent to scoop Emma into his arms. He carried her to the cottage. She was astonishingly light in his arms.
“Thank you for saving me,” Emma said.
“No problem.”
“I saw the car hit you.”
“Just a little bump.”
“The front grille was caved in and the headlight was smashed,” she told him.
“They don’t make cars the way they used to.”
She gave a raspy little chuckle.
Alex carried her into the house and directly to the bedroom. After setting her on the bed, he removed her slippers and pulled the covers up to her chest.
“I was looking for Tom,” Emma said, reaching up to pat his cheek.
Alex bent to kiss her forehead. “He’s here,” he murmured.
“I know.”
Zoe entered the room and fussed over her grandmother, asking worried questions, coaxing her to take a sip of water. As Alex left the room, he heard Emma say a bit testily, “Let me sleep, Zoe. I love you, too. Let me rest.”
***
When Zoe finally turned out the lights and left the bedroom, Tom went to lie quietly beside Emma.
“I wanted you,” she whispered after a moment. “I couldn’t find you.”
“I’ll never leave you again,” Tom told her. He didn’t know if she could hear him, but he sensed that she was relaxing, settling into sleep.
A plaintive murmur. “I don’t remember anything.”
“You don’t have to,” Tom replied, smiling at her in the darkness. “I found all your memories tonight. I’m keeping them safe for you… they’re waiting inside me like a heartbeat. And I’ll give them to you when the time is right.”
“Soon,” she whispered, turning toward him with a sigh of relief.
“Yes, love… very soon.”
***
Zoe gestured for Alex to follow her. She led him to her room, her throat tight, her eyes flooding with fresh tears.
He looked down at her with infinite concern. “What’s the matter?”
“I was so scared,” she said in a watery voice, blotting her sore eyes with the sleeve of her robe.
“I know. I’m sorry I pushed Emma like that. But she seems okay now—”
“I meant you .” She went to the tiny bathroom, found a tissue, and blew her nose vehemently. Her jaw quivered as she continued. “I saw you get hit by that car—”
“Bumped.”
“Hit,” she said, letting out a coughing sob, “and you were all s-smashed up on the ground, and I th-thought you were—” Breaking off, she swallowed painfully against another burst of crying. She would never recover from the sight of him unconscious on the road. The fear still hadn’t left her. Her shaking hand touched his shoulder, just to make certain he really was there, that he was alive.
He took both her hands and brought them to his chest, where she could feel the strong, steady thump of his heart. “Zoe. I have so much to say to you, it could take all night. A year. No, a lifetime.”
“Take as long as you want,” she said with a sniffle. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Alex put his arms around her, gathering her into a deep, secure embrace. So strong. So vital. He was silent for a long time, understanding somehow that she needed the feel of him. She laid her head against his chest, breathing in the scents of dirt and tar and night air.
Pushing aside her hair, Alex pressed a few light, hot kisses against the side of her face. “When you told me you loved me,” he said quietly, “I got scared. Because I knew when a woman like you says that, it means… everything. Marriage. A house with a porch swing. Children.”
“Yes.”
He sank his hand into her hair and tilted her head back. He looked into her eyes with a sober intensity that she couldn’t doubt. “I want those things, too.”
She had been shaking with nerves and fear before, but she felt shaky in a new way now, because she understood that he meant it.
His mouth caressed hers, a searing pressure that lingered until her knees went weak. “We’ll take it at your pace,” he said. “As fast or slow as you want.”
“I don’t want to wait,” she told him, her hands creeping up his warm, hard back. “I don’t want to spend a night without you ever again. I want to move in together right away, and get engaged, and set a wedding date, and…” She stopped and gave him a sheepish glance. “Is that too fast?”
Alex laughed quietly. “I can keep up,” he assured her, and took her to bed.
***
Alex awakened in a wash of morning light. He lay still, relishing the feeling of waking up in Zoe’s bed, his head half buried in lavender-scented pillows. His arm swept across the white sheets, reaching for her, but all his hand encountered was empty space.
“Zoe’s in the kitchen,” he heard Tom say.
Opening his eyes, Alex did a double take as he saw that Tom wasn’t alone. A slender young woman stood beside him, their hands clasped. Her blond hair was arranged in smooth curls and parted on the side. She had a lovely, slightly angular face, her eyes bright with intelligence.
Alex sat up slowly, keeping the sheet pulled up to his waist. “Good morning,” he said, dazed.
She gave him a familiar smile of mischief. It was more than a little disconcerting to see Emma’s smile in this drastically younger version of herself. “Good morning, Alex.”
His wondering gaze slid over the two of them. The air was luminous with happiness, emotion translated to light. Tom had lost the ever-present shadow of loneliness, his dark eyes snapping with joyful vitality.
“Everything’s okay, then,” Alex said, giving them both a questioning glance.
“Glorious,” Emma said. “Everything is the way it should be.”
Tom’s gaze lingered on Emma before returning to Alex. “We came to say good-bye,” he said. “We’ve got places to go.”
“Do you?” It hit Alex that the ghost was finally leaving him. They were both free. What Alex had never expected was that he would feel so forlorn at the prospect. “I’ve never been so damn glad to get rid of anyone,” he managed to say.
Tom grinned. “I’ll miss you, too.”
There were things Alex needed to say… I will never forget you and your obnoxious singing and smartass comments, and the way you saved my life. You became the friend I didn’t even know I needed. And you made me realize that the worst thing isn’t dying, but dying without ever having loved someone. However, it didn’t seem that they would have the time or opportunity to talk. And he saw from Tom’s gaze that he understood all of that, and more.
“Will I see you again?” Alex asked simply.
“Yeah,” Tom said, “but not for a while. You and Zoe have a long life ahead of you. And a big family to start on—two boys and a girl. And one of them is going to grow up to be—”
Emma interrupted hastily. “Alex, pretend you didn’t hear any of that.” Turning to Tom, she clicked her tongue reprovingly. “Still a troublemaker. You know you weren’t supposed to tell him anything.”
“It’s your job to keep me in line,” Tom told her.
“I’m not sure anyone could manage that,” she retorted. “You’re a tough case.”
Tom lowered his head to hers until their foreheads touched. “Not for you,” he murmured.
They were silent for a moment, their pleasure in each other’s company almost palpable.
“Let’s get going,” Tom murmured. “We’ve got some lost time to make up for.”
“About sixty-seven years,” she told him.
He smiled into her eyes. “We’d better get started, then.” Sliding an arm around Emma’s shoulders, he guided her to the doorway. Stopping at the threshold, they turned to look back at Alex.
He saw them through a sudden blur. He had to clear his throat roughly before he could speak. “Thanks. For everything.”
The other man smiled in understanding. “You and I both got it wrong, Alex: love does last. In fact… it’s the only thing that does.”
“Take care of Zoe,” Emma told him gently.
“I’ll make her happy,” Alex said in a gravelly voice. “I swear it.”
“I know you will.” She held his gaze for a long, affectionate moment. “Work on that foxtrot,” she eventually said, and gave him a wink.
The next moment, they were gone.
Putting on his jeans, Alex went barefoot to the kitchen, where a pot of coffee was brewing. But Zoe wasn’t there.
Seeing that the door to Emma’s room was ajar, he realized she had gone to check on her grandmother. He found Zoe sitting on the edge of the bed with her head bent. Although he couldn’t see her face, he could hardly miss the glitter of tears falling into her lap.
“Alex—” she said in a suffocated voice. “My grandmother—”
“I know, sweetheart.” He held out his arms, and she went to him at once. He wrapped her in his arms and murmured against her hair, telling her that he loved her, he would always be there for her. She buried her face against him and breathed in shuddering sighs, until her tears finally slowed.
After a while, Alex eased Zoe from the bedroom and closed the door. “She’s happy now,” he said, keeping an arm around her. “She wanted me to tell you that.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, looking bewildered.
“Very sure,” he replied firmly. “She’s with Tom.”
Zoe pondered that for a moment. “I don’t know anything about Tom.” She wiped a last smudge of moisture from her cheek. “I don’t know if I like the idea of her going off with a man I don’t know.”
Alex smiled down at her. “I can tell you a few things about him…”