Chapter 56
56
D resses and hats are proper cover for spines of steel.
Carlisle saw Simon as she drove up her driveway. It was late and she wondered how long he'd been sitting on her front step.
Maybe a while, as he wore the same long coat he'd worn the first night she'd met him, when he strolled across the lawn in the middle of the night, knocking on her door because she'd woken him up. She had already driven past when she realized his odd stance was because he held Kitten.
He’d brought Kitten to see her?
She pulled up in front of the garage, still holding a third of the boxes of Carlisle's kits. There was no space to put the car inside now and she hoped there wouldn’t be again. But what was Simon doing here? She tried to calm the frantic patter of her heart and tamp down the stupid hope that climbed into her chest.
Opening her car door, she watched as he came around the side of the house. Kitten squirmed in his arms as he tried to scratch her ears and hold onto her. Not quite sure what this was about or what she should say, Carlisle reached into the backseat and pulled the suitcase out.
“Were you doing interviews?” he asked as though this was normal.
“Los Angeles and San Diego.”
“Wow. Big markets.”
Carlisle had driven herself to the airport, not making Jane pick her up this time. Partly, she was determined to be more independent, and also, she just couldn’t be a burden on her friend, who also had to go pick up her four kids from her parents in Atlanta before driving all the way back to town.
Simon stopped in front of her, blocking her and the suitcase. He held the tiny orange ball of fluff out. Though still tiny, Kitten was notably bigger than the last time Carlisle had seen her. “Kitten misses you. Let me get your suitcase.”
Wary of this whole setup, but desperately wanting to hold Kitten, Carlisle took the ball of fluff and tucked her in close. She scratched the tiny head and snuggled her face down, murmuring, “I've missed you.”
“I've missed you.”
He’d obviously heard her. Her attention pulled away from Kitten as she looked up at him and fought the way his voice burrowed into her heart. She was not going to let him undo all the time she’d spent trying to move past him.
“I missed you, too, but I'm getting over it.” She watched as his face froze mid expression.
Then he turned along the front walk, pulling her suitcase as she trailed behind, still petting Kitten and trying to keep her from crawling up onto her shoulder.
It was a short distance to the front steps. He lifted the suitcase up the stairs, set it down on the landing and turned back to her. “Please don't get over me.”
What did that mean? Should she just forgive him? They should get back together so that this could happen again the next time that something went wrong with Darcy or with his mother?
Carlisle was more than willing to understand she wasn’t always the most important thing. She was an adult. She’d dated men with children, and she understood the children came first. Simon's situation wasn't exactly like that, but similar. Even so, she couldn't come last either. She couldn't become nothing because something happened to Darcy, and she wasn't going to take the blame either.
“I can't do this again.”
He nodded as if that were perfectly reasonable. But she didn’t know why he would be here for that.
“I wish I hadn't waited so long to come back and tell you how sorry I am.” His voice was deep, and it resonated at some soul frequency she needed. Right now, she hated that. Hated that she wanted to listen, that she might make his words into something more than they actually were, because she still missed him so much.
“I’m sorry for the way everything went down. I shouldn't have blamed you.”
That was huge . It rocked her back on her heels. But it wasn't enough. She simply said, “Thank you.”
“I can't tell you that Darcy won't go missing again. I can't tell you that we won't have another crisis, that I won't have some other round of huge medical bills. Or that I won't need to fly off at a moment's notice to take care of something in Nebraska.”
She nodded. These were all things she’d come to terms with a long time ago. It sounded like he thought they were going to get together again, but so far, he'd only told her what would be the same.
He looked away, stepped closer and reached out. Just as she thought he was going to touch her, he actually stroked Kitten’s tiny back, then moved another step away from her again .
“This time when Darcy went missing was different. Maybe because I've moved away. Maybe because what you told Darcy made her feel like she had a shot.”
Carlisle felt her lips press together and she wasn't prepared for him to tell her, “Thank you for telling her that. I not only shouldn't have blamed you—because Darcy going to the gallery was the first step where she went missing—but I should have thanked you.” He took a breath. “Darcy never believed us when we told her how good her artwork was, but she believed you.”
Looking at his face, even though he wasn't looking at her, Carlisle could see that he regretted his decisions toward his sister. “Now she has several gallery owners who also believe her.”
“That's fantastic!” Carlisle blurted out. That part was amazing but even so she felt like her happiness for Darcy chipped away at walls she should be keeping firmly in place. The apology was nice, but she couldn’t do this again. Maybe if she told herself enough times, she’d believe it.
“She sold a couple pieces. She painted for so many years just for herself, she now has a collection of work that she can sell.”
Carlisle almost laughed. She could see his business brain churning, figuring out Darcy's marketable skills.
“I'm sorry, though. I'm sorry for the way it went down. I'm sorry for being mad at you suggesting that maybe mom and I rework things. You were right. Mom and Darcy and I all needed to rework things. I wasn't ready to hear it when you told me and honestly, I don't think I would have been ready to hear it if Darcy hadn't disappeared, and then kind of told me off for the way I've been treating her.”
“Ouch,” Carlisle said, still holding on to Kitten, still stroking the tiny head and sinking into the small soft purrs as if it was the thing anchoring her.
She wondered if she should say what she had said the first night: “I’m fine. I'm sorry I bothered you.” Then close her door and go back inside.
“When I told you I loved you, I meant it. I still love you and I still have a lot of the same problems I had before. Darcy helped pay some smaller medical bills, but at the turn of the new year there will be money needed for bills again. Even just her standard care is expensive.”
“I know that,” Carlisle told him. “And when that happens, are you going to just toss me aside?”
“Never again.” He said it as if never was the strongest word he could put there. “I am an integral part of my family and I need to remain that part of it, but I also want to be with you. I need to be with you. These last few weeks without you have shown me that.”
Kitten squeaked and Carlisle realized she had been squeezing the tiny cat tighter and tighter as Simon spoke. “Sorry, baby,” she whispered. But she didn’t need to be with Simon because he needed her . She would need to make her own decisions for herself. “We should go inside before she breaks loose and runs off.”
Simon stepped out of the way and waited for her to unlock the door. Then he pulled the suitcase over the threshold. “Do you want it in your room?”
It was so odd, he knew his way around. He’d practically lived here at times. She nodded at him, setting Kitten down and letting her explore again.
Carlisle was standing in her own living room as Simon came out from putting her suitcase away. She had to say it before she couldn't. “I'm sorry, too.”
“What for?” He didn’t ask it as if he was trying to make her prove that she knew what she was sorry for. He seemed genuinely confused.
“I'm sorry for pushing you about your mother, about the money, about Darcy. The first time I said something, you obviously weren't ready to hear it and I kept pushing.”
“You had every right to. In fact, you were right, and my mother and I have worked something out.”
“That's amazing. I hope it works.” Damn, it felt good to be right. But she squashed that feeling down, too, because it would feel better to be with Simon. “I'm sorry I didn't fight harder for us these last couple of weeks. You kicked me out, but I let you.”
“Does that mean in the future, you'll fight for me?” Simon asked, his expression hopeful. “Even if that means you're fighting me?”
She almost answered no. She was sorry she hadn’t but were they saying they were going to try again? He hadn't said it, and she didn’t want to fall back into that lovely place that had turned brutal in an instant.
As she opened her mouth to ask him what he really wanted, he told her.
“Can you forgive me? Can you give us another chance?”