Come Back to Me Read online

  Alan blinked. She was excited about the baby now? “Uh, I don’t know. They think it’s a girl, so I’ll go with girl.”

  Jamie’s smiled faded. She gave him a tender look, and her eyes grew teary.

  His heart pounded in his chest, aching to beat in time with its mate. “It might be a little while.”

  A tall, thin, late middle-aged man with thick glasses ambled into the room, offering an uncomfortable smile and holding up his cup of coffee as if toasting them. He fell into an empty chair and stretched out his legs. So much for privacy.

  Alan looked to Jamie and nodded toward the hall. “You wanna . . . you wanna go somewhere and talk?”

  21

  Dive In

  Alan held the door open and motioned Jamie into the chapel ahead of him. The stained glass behind the altar appeared almost black in the night, but Alan imagined the west-facing windows shone beautifully at sunset, casting an array of colors across the tiled floor. He’d done his best to avoid hospitals and hadn’t stepped foot into a hospital chapel until now, but this one wasn’t so bad.

  Jamie had suggested it, and he’d agreed. Neither of them could come up with another viable, private option on the hospital campus at this time of night.

  He glanced at the crucifix suspended from the ceiling then the alcove filled with glimmering candles encased in red glass. Churches and places of worship generally left him feeling like a fish out of water. His memory flashed to a pair of teenage girls in Justin Bieber t-shirts that he’d spotted at the Dave Matthews Band concert on Thanksgiving weekend. He’d hummed to himself, “Which of these things doesn’t belong?”

  Jamie strode to the front of the mini-church and sat in the second pew.

  After a moment’s hesitation, he followed, recalling how Chris and Rebecca dropped to one knee before entering a pew but not knowing if that was necessary. He slid along the bare, wooden seat until their thighs were mere inches apart. Sitting alongside her might be better than facing off. In some small way, it reminded him they were on the same team. Or at least they should be.

  Jamie twisted her hands in her lap, taking in the altar and casting him anxious glances. Why the nerves?

  He hadn’t let himself think about it before, but what if she’d had it with him? What if she wanted a divorce? What would he do? The thought of going through life without her made him sick, and he grappled with what to say and how to start.

  Jamie attempted to cross one leg over the other, the shallow depth of the pew thwarting her. She twisted and tried to do the same with the other leg, only to give up and swivel her body in his direction. “I’m so glad Chris made it on time.”

  He hoped she was easing into a more intimate conversation, not avoiding it. They’d been separated too long, and darned if he was going to spend their precious minutes together talking about anyone but the two of them. If she thought for a second they were going to—

  “I envy them, you know.” She said it matter-of-factly, no shame and no bitterness. “These last months, I’ve gotten to know Rebecca better. She’s sweet.” Jamie smiled and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, looking pretty sweet herself.

  Alan rubbed his hands up and down his thighs, eager to get to the meat of the conversation. “Yeah. She’s great. So is Chris. I don’t know what I would’ve done without them since, well, since—”

  “Since I kicked you out.” Her gaze dropped, her expression chagrined. “Y’know, it’s not just all this stuff with the baby coming. I’ve paid attention to them, Chris and Rebecca. The closer they get to one another, the more they turn out, the more their love just spills out all over the place.” She splayed her hands in front of her. “It doesn’t make sense to me, Alan. But I want that. I want it so badly.”

  She twisted toward him, taking his hands in hers. “I want it with you.”

  He swallowed, the emotion in his chest swelling, but remained unsure of what to say.

  “Everything about their relationship is intentional. I know they’re not perfect, and neither is their marriage, but I can’t imagine either of them ever go to bed wondering if the other loves them.”

  No, not likely. Not if the amount of time he spent sleeping with his head buried under his pillow was any indication.

  “Or wondering if it was all a mistake.”

  His spine went rigid. That little addendum to her thought caught him off guard. “You think getting married was a mistake?”

  The silence lingered, and she bit her lip. “I don’t know why we even got married, do you?”

  He shook his head. “Not really. Seemed like we should.” He moved his hands over hers and squeezed them. “But I want to stay married. I do.”

  “I feel like we’re at such a disadvantage. They talked about marriage, kids, values, and faith, all of it before they even got engaged. What did we talk about? Who did the dishes more often or whose checking account was the rent coming out of this month.”

  He shrugged. True enough. Disadvantage or not, he wasn’t letting his marriage slip through his fingers. “We’ll work harder then. We’ll make up for it.”

  His confidence brought a glimmer to her eyes. Was that hope or was she going to cry? “I’m not sure I’m sorry I asked you to leave even though I’ve missed you like crazy. Missed waking up with you. Missed sitting across the table from you.”

  Guaranteed, he’d missed her more. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Why not?”

  “Because we might not be here now. I’ve been carrying around some stuff, some hurt from my relationship with my dad.” She glanced at the ceiling, as if she’d find the right words there. “According to my mom, I misunderstood. I thought that he’d never wanted to be a dad. That that’s why he half ignored me. I didn’t know he suffered from depression for years.”

  He nodded, not sure yet where she was headed with this.

  “I was afraid that would happen with you. If we had a baby, you’d regret it, that you’d lose interest. I thought . . .” She worried her bottom lip. “I thought you were just going along with the flow. A baby was the next thing to tick off the list.”

  Was he? Maybe a little. But he did want babies with her. And he was all about living purposefully now. Intentionally. “I want a baby because I love you. I want to share that with you.” He shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  A sob caught in her throat, and she placed her hand over her mouth. “I didn’t give you enough credit. I’m sorry. You’re a good man, Alan. A good husband. I made you out to be a selfish child, but I was the one who was afraid.”

  “Nah. I’ve had some growing up to do.” Still did.

  “You were here for Rebecca. You stuck with her even though I know it must’ve been the last place you wanted to be. You did what had to be done. Because you love her and Chris. Because it was the right thing to do.” She bit her lips together, her eyes teary but filled with admiration. “You put their needs above your own.”

  He squirmed, uncomfortable with the praise. What kind of jerk would he have to be to abandon his sister-in-law while she was in labor? And Jamie didn’t know about before, how he’d gone out and gotten drunk after his job interviews tanked. He had to tell her. “Don’t give me too much credit. If you could’ve read my mind, or if you knew what happened before—”

  “So we both have some stuff to work on. I want to work on it together.” Her chin lifted; her chest expanded. “I know now—tonight only confirmed it—that I can count on you to be the man I need.”

  With all the fluttering and pounding his heart was doing, he was relieved to be in a hospital. Between the baby getting ready to make its grand entrance and Jamie putting all her faith in him, going all in, cardiac arrest seemed like a real possibility.

  She wanted this. Him. Their marriage. “’Til death do us part?”

  She giggled. “Yeah. Let’s give it a whirl.”

  The anvil that had been parked on his chest for months lifted. He thought he had an inkling of what Rebecca would feel whe
n she finally delivered that baby—relief, gratitude, utter joy. Was this what they called “grace”?

  ***

  Only silence slipped under the door to Room 404, so Alan rapped three times and waited.

  A few seconds later, Chris pulled open the door. He smiled despite the circles beneath his eyes and the fact that his hair had dried in a funky-looking, spiky style. Stubble dotted his chin and cheeks. And yet the joy on his face blew Alan away.

  “C’mon in. I didn’t know if you stuck around. I should’ve come out to see, but—”

  “Nah. You were busy.” Alan stepped through the entranceway and stretched his arm out for Jamie to enter ahead of him.

  Chris’s eyes widened. “Jamie. Wow. Um, I didn’t know you were here. It’s good to see you.”

  Her cheeks reddened, and her gaze slid to her feet for a half second. “You too. Congratulations, Dad.”

  Chris’s smile widened, and he ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “Yeah. Thanks. Almost didn’t make it. But . . .” He stopped and glanced heavenward. “I’m so grateful I did.” His voice thickened, and he cleared his throat. “Well, come meet your nephew.”

  “It’s a boy?” A son. Alan tamped down the envy creeping into his heart. There was hardly any room for it anyway with the joy already filling it to near capacity.

  “Yep. Seven pounds, six ounces. Uh, nineteen and a half inches.” Chris ambled toward the center of the room.

  Rebecca reclined in the bed, her hair pulled back from her face, and her eyes tired, but a relaxed, happy glow about her that wasn’t there a couple of hours earlier. In her arms, she held a little bundle wrapped in a white blanket with blue and pink stripes, and a hat to match.

  Alan rounded the bed until he could glimpse the little guy. A pudgy, reddish face with no visible neck poked above the blanket. The baby blinked slowly.

  “Uncle Alan and Aunt Jamie are here, sweetie.” Rebecca acted as if it were the most normal thing in the world for him and Jamie to arrive together despite the fact they’d been apart for months. At the sound of her voice, the baby’s eyes moved in her direction, and a tiny fist found its way out of the blanket.

  Jamie grabbed hold of Alan’s sleeve and leaned forward. “Oh, Rebecca. He’s beautiful.” She glanced at Chris then back at the baby. “He has Chris’s eyes and chin.”

  Chris stood at the foot of the bed, his hands in his pockets. “You think so?”

  “Yeah, she’s right.” Alan took a closer look. Close-set blue eyes. Oval chin. Would he have Chris’s dimples? It was hard to tell with the knit cap, but—“Not much hair, huh?”

  Rebecca giggled. “I think we’ve got a little baldie.”

  “Does he have a name yet?” Jamie looked to Rebecca.

  Chris rounded the opposite side of the bed. “Sebastian Christopher Reynolds.”

  “I love it. It suits him.” Jamie’s eyes sparkled, and the smile never left her face. Who was this woman, all gaga over a newborn baby? Couldn’t be his wife, could it? Could she be ready for one of her own?

  “Do you want to hold him?” Rebecca stared at Alan, lifting the baby a little in his direction.

  He looked to Jamie. “Uh, sure.” He’d never held a newborn before.

  Jamie nudged his elbow. “Go wash your hands.”

  “Oh. Okay.” When he returned a minute later, Chris stood behind the empty rocking chair, cooing at the baby in his arms. Alan sat, shifting until he felt comfortable. Didn’t want to drop the little guy.

  Chris placed Sebastian in his open arms. His body was swaddled from the neck down. He did have a neck, didn’t he? It certainly wasn’t visible. His lips puckered then relaxed, and his paper-thin eyelids lay closed.

  A rush of emotion choked Alan. “Hey, buddy.”

  22

  Hello Again

  Jamie proceeded through the revolving door, stopping in the semi-circular drop-off/pick-up area outside the hospital entrance.

  Alan followed, grinning as their eyes met.

  She held his gaze for only second before her glance dropped shyly to her purse.

  His heart swelled and lifted, every emotion, every sensation mimicking a newfound love, a secret crush unexpectedly, delightedly requited. He couldn’t keep the smile from his face. The joy he’d felt holding his nephew had been indescribable. Every fine hair, every inch of blotchy skin, and those little blue eyes. He marveled at the perfection. If he hadn’t been so genuinely happy for Chris and Rebecca, he’d have been jealous. Only the affection he’d felt for that swaddled newborn, who smelled of life and hope and . . . and blessing, it was so big it had crowded out every base emotion.

  Alan stepped toward Jamie, touching her elbow. He wanted to hold a child of his own, a ruddy-faced son or a bow-lipped daughter. But even more he craved holding his wife in their bed, and for the first time in months, the hope of that didn’t seem as empty as his stomach currently did.

  Jamie blinked up at him, her tired eyes filled with affection. For him or for the bundle of joy they’d just left behind, he wasn’t certain, but he was fairly sure she’d been as affected as he was.

  “Want to get breakfast?” Later, the lack of sleep would catch up with him, but right now, he’d keep her close as long as he could. “We could hit a diner. I mean, I don’t have my car, so whatever you—”

  “I have a better idea.” She gave him a coy smile and looped her arm through his.

  A thrill shot through him at her nearness.

  “How would you like to be the first diner at Chez Jamie?” She squeezed his arm.

  “Uh, hmmm . . . is that someplace new?” She couldn’t cook her way out of a doggy bag. What was she getting at?

  She giggled—giggled. “Yeah. Since you, uh, pay the bills, I thought you’d like to dine on the house. I can have breakfast ready in twenty.”

  His eyes bugged. “You’re cooking breakfast?” He knew his reaction might be met with disdain, but he couldn’t stop it.

  She nodded, biting her lower lip. “Sure am. How do breakfast burritos and fruit salad sound?”

  His stomached growled in answer. “Great, but how did you—when did you—?”

  She shrugged. “Mom gave me some lessons. Megan helped me out a bit, and I watched some how-to videos.” She leaned in, nestling her head against him as they headed in what he presumed was the direction of her parked car. “I’m no great chef, but I think you’ll be surprised how far I’ve come.” She lifted her chin and gave him a smug grin. “Haven’t burned or ruined a meal in two months.”

  Two months? The promise of a decent meal cooked in his kitchen was alluring enough, but it wilted like day-old lettuce in comparison to the fact that she’d been working for months at this. He knew it wasn’t necessarily for him. She could have lots of reasons for learning to cook. But the way she’d flirted and dangled this surprise before him with pride shining in her bright blue eyes told him it had at least something to do with pleasing him, which meant she cared about him—still.

  “Consider me ready to be wowed.” Before he could overthink it and change his mind, he stopped and wrapped his free arm around her, pulling her into a hug. His heart kicked to life and, paradoxically, his soul calmed. Home. More than where they were headed, a place he’d missed more than he ever would’ve guessed, this was his home.

  The arms of this red-headed beauty were his starting and ending point. Much like his parents’ home when he was a child, it’s where he turned for safety and security, the one place he knew complete and absolute acceptance. Her arms were the launching pad for every astounding success and the solace in every crushing defeat. More than any other place, here is where he could most fully be himself, where he could laugh, cry, or simply be.

  In the past, he’d taken that to mean indulging his own whims without thought to repercussion, but now he knew that it was more about being who he was meant to be, the best version of himself. His family, Jamie, was the starting point and testing ground for every upgrade. Alan 2.0 would be the man his wife ne
eded first and foremost, and somehow things would fall into place. They had to.

  Jamie sighed deeply and leaned into him, letting him support her entirely. In a small way, he sensed she was giving herself to him again. With no hesitation, no obvious fear or doubt, she’d just revealed her willingness to cling to him, no matter what had gone before.

  “Let’s go.” He squeezed her once, savoring the feel of her in his arms once again. “I’m starved. I hope Chez Jamie serves super-sized portions.”

  She pulled out of his arms and dug the car keys from her coat pocket. “Don’t worry. The chef knows your legendary appetite.” The twinkle in her eye and the wry quirk of her lips made him wonder if she was thinking of more than food. He dismissed the thought, determined not to get ahead of himself.

  He bowed and ushered her forward, making a sweeping motion with his arm. “Lead the way.”

  A half hour later, as Jamie pulled into their driveway, sunlight streamed over the rooftops and between the trees. Car engines came to life as people rushed from their houses to their cars with work bags and coffee in hand.

  Alan stared at their brick ranch house. It wasn’t anything special. It was everything special. Behind its walls they laughed, they cried, they argued, and they made love. He’d missed it. “Your mom home?”

  Jamie opened the door, walked around to the front of the car, and waited for him. “We moved Mom back home on Wednesday.”

  A thrill shot through him, but he steeled his expression. “Oh. Sorry I missed saying goodbye.”

  She snorted and halfheartedly punched him in the side. “You are not. Thanks for trying though.” He’d missed her smile, her laughter.

  A grin broke free. “Can’t say I’m too disappointed. We haven’t been alone together in what feels like forever.” Alone together. How long had it been since Chris and Rebecca had been alone together without him getting in the way? He filed the thought away, for now.