A Promise of Forever (26 page)

“Sweetie,” she began again. “Your career is just a job. Your home is just a building. Your sisters…well, they’ll always be your sisters whether you’re living here or in Timbuktu—which, by the way, George and I visited and thought was quite remarkable. They’ll love you, call you, and visit you so much, you’ll wish you were back here so they’d leave you alone.” She raised one hand to ward off protests. “Just kidding. But Sara’s kids already know how to Skype. They call me at least once a week.”

The idea of his mother Skyping with her grandkids made him smile faintly. When he’d gotten his first computer all his own for his last birthday before she’d left, she’d declared,
I’m a dinosaur. Technology has left me behind, and I like it that way.
He stayed informed on technological advances in the surgical field, especially in the joint replacement surgeries he did, but personally he was as much a dinosaur as she’d claimed to be then.

“It’s not the same,” he said, and hated the way he sounded like a cranky child.

“No, it’s not. All the video chats in the world can’t compete with a single hug or a kiss. But when George was in Afghanistan, I got to sit right here on my patio and see him, hear his voice, and watch him laugh. With the kids, I can get comfy in bed in my pajamas and read them stories at bedtime. I get to see and hear them say ‘Sweet dreams, Grandma. I love you.’” Her eyes had watered at the mention of George and stayed damp through the rest of her words. She wiped at them without embarrassment.

“You know what else isn’t going to be the same, Ben? Sleeping in that big bed of yours without Avi. You’ll always have the memories, and if that’s all you
get
to have, like me, like Lucy and all the others, fine. Great. Memories are precious. But if that’s all you settle for because you’re too afraid or stubborn to have more, they’re going to be precious little comfort.”

Fingers clenching around the stem of the wineglass, he scowled at her. “Exactly when did I say ‘Give me advice on how to live the rest of my life’?”

She laughed, not the least bit impressed by the scowl, and squeezed his hand. “It was part of the deal, sweetie. I birthed you, and that entitles me to interfering in your life.”

He would have appreciated more interference when he was sixteen, eighteen, and twenty. Maybe that was why he really didn’t mind now. She was saying mostly things he’d thought, things he already knew—and she was speaking from experience. She knew what he was going through in ways no one else did.

Including him.

In an effort to lighten the mood, he referred back to a statement she’d made at the beginning. “So you think I’m the best orthopedic surgeon only in Tulsa?”

She laughed again. “In all of Oklahoma. Heck, in the entire country, if not the world. If I broke any of my creaky bones, I’d want you to be the one to fix them.”

“Thank you.” They toasted with their half-empty glasses, then Ben gazed across the lawn. It was neatly kept, thanks to Cadore’s mowing and Patricia’s gardening. She and George must have had such plans when they bought this place. No more packing boxes, sorting through the stuff they’d collected over the years. No more changing addresses or house-hunting or temporary living. This was to have been their home for the rest of their lives. Not just a house.
Home.

And all they’d gotten was a few months living in it together before he’d deployed. Before he’d died.
You’ll always have the memories, and if that’s all you get to have, like me, like Lucy and all the others, fine. Great. Memories are precious.
She definitely had those. Twenty years’ worth.

She should have gotten at least another twenty years’ worth.

“I wish I’d known him,” he said absently.

“Who?” she asked just as absently.

He was surprised he’d spoken the words aloud, but they were true. “George. I wish I’d known him.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, sweetie…” Sniffling, she set her glass aside. “There’s never a tissue around when I need one,” she said, pushing to her feet and turning toward the door. “I’ll be right back.”

Ben returned to gazing across the lawn, at least, until a soft voice spoke from behind him. “That’s probably the nicest thing you could have said to her.”

He turned to find Avi, pretty in a pink dress with white dots, standing a few yards from the driveway. Her hair shone in the sunlight that reached it, hanging sleek past her shoulders, held back from her face by a white band with pink dots. With matching dotted flip-flops, she looked about seventeen, beautiful and innocent and sexy.

“You know what the hardest part of my job as an orthopedic doc doing total knee replacements in Oklahoma is?”

Shaking her head solemnly, she came toward him.

“Convincing my patients to give up their flip-flops.”

Reaching him, she gave his feet a pointed look.

“Yes, but my patients don’t know I wear them myself outside of clinic.”

She bent to kiss him, just a
hey, you
sort of kiss that was sweet enough to make him ache and sad enough to break his heart. Sitting in the chair to his right, she crossed her gorgeous legs, letting one shoe dangle, and helped herself to his wineglass, holding it up to eye level. “How much did Patricia pour for you? Thirty ccs more than what’s left?”

“She filled it practically to the rim.”

Avi raised her brows so her eyes opened wide with wonder. “Oh, God, don’t tell me I’ve driven you to drink.”

“I’m not the only ortho doc in Tulsa. Hell, I’m not even the only hip, knee, and ankle guy in my own office.”

“Uh-huh.” She handed the glass back to him, not quite understanding his point.

“I’m not on call this weekend, and if whoever is on call needs help, he can get it from someone else. I don’t have to be responsible and sober twenty-four hours a day three hundred and sixty-five days a year.” He always had been. Always. Not once in the years since he’d graduated medical school had he ever had one single, entire drink. Whether he was home alone, on a date, or celebrating something special, he’d never indulged in an entire drink so he could be ready
if
he was needed.

How many times in all those nights had he been needed? Maybe ten: multi-car crashes, partial amputations, one skydiving jump gone terribly wrong, a few industrial accidents. And if he hadn’t gone? He’d saved some legs, but his partners could have done the same. Would have.

Patricia returned from the house, carrying an empty glass and a full bottle. “Hey, Avi, honey, take a glass, please. Fill your own and top off Ben’s. He’s not driving anywhere tonight, but don’t let him get so hammered that all he wants to do at bedtime is go to sleep.”

Avi chuckled, and Ben frowned at both women. “I’m not drunk.”

“No, but you don’t hold your liquor the way Avi and I do,” Patricia said with a sweet smile. “We’ve had a lot more practice than you.”

Avi filled her own glass and topped off Ben’s as instructed, just not quite as full as before. When she was done and had handed the bottle back to Patricia, she met his gaze and winked. He claimed her free hand, twined his fingers with hers, and closed his eyes, concentrating on them. Her nails were shorter than usual; she’d broken a few working on the fountain. Her skin felt a little rougher than usual, despite the gloves she’d worn, and there was a bubble of a blister on her left index finger.

This night would be the last time he held her hand like this. He wasn’t going to get maudlin over it; he’d promised himself on the drive over, but wine and sympathy made maudlin way too easy a destination.

“Are your parents about ready for us?” Patricia asked.

“Dad was in the shower when I left the house, and the chicken was resting. By the way, Mom sent a message that if you want to talk to Dad, you need to do it before the seven o’clock kick-off. The Tallgrass team is playing at Stillwater, and he’ll be watching it on his computer, thanks to one of his friends who mounted a video camera on an assistant coach’s ball cap.”

Patricia stood, anxious to get going. “Let me get the dishes I’m taking, and we can walk over now.”

Ben got his first clue when she pulled a garden cart from beneath a nearby tree. He gave Avi his glass as Patricia began pulling it up the steps, and helped carry it inside while Avi balanced the wine bottle and the glasses.

“These are treats for you, Avi,” Patricia said as she lifted a sturdy box into the cart.

Ben picked up the top bag, filled with bone-shape cookies. “Look, pupper cookies. You have to sit and speak before you get one.”

“Those are for Sadie, from Lucy. They’re all natural. Way better than that stuff you buy at the grocery store.” Patricia added a bowl of corn salad, another holding chunks of peeled, sweet cantaloupe. The aroma filled the room even with the plastic wrap stretched over the top. A pie carrier holding one of her sky-high meringue pies got place of honor, with the nearly full bottle of wine nestled beside it.

The last thing to go in was a small quilted bag. “What’s that?” Ben asked.

“It’s personal.”

“That looks like your yellow pajamas sticking out.”

“It is. Underneath are my toothbrush, tooth paste, nighttime medication, house slippers, and a dress for tomorrow. Come on, the Sanderson train is moving out.” Wrapping her fingers around the cart handle, she began wheeling it through the kitchen and down the hall.

“You having a slumber party tonight, Mom?” Ben asked as he and Avi followed.

Patricia turned, caught his face in her palms, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You called me Mom.”

His face flushed, and not because of her hands pressed to it. “I guess I did.”

After wiping any trace of lipstick from his cheek, she released him. “And for that, you and Avi get free run of this house tonight. Have all the fun you want, but let her get some sleep. She’s got a long way to go tomorrow. Now, help me get this cart down the front steps. You don’t want to be late for Beth’s famous grilled chicken, take my word for it.”

Dinner was lovely: barbecued chicken with crispy skin; potato salad; corn salad; the last cherry tomatoes from Beth’s garden tossed on the grill until their skins split; juicy cantaloupe Avi thought worth licking her fingers; and lemon meringue pie. She’d eaten enough to pop, but if she did, at least she would break into a million pieces surrounded by the four people she loved most in the world.

Even if one of them was attached to the computer by the plug for the headphones Beth made him wear, his cheers or groans occasionally punctuating the quiet.

“You’re not disappointed we chose to have a small party, are you?” Beth sat on the arm of Avi’s Adirondack chair, the vintage teal color of the wood a perfect play for her pink and white dotted theme. She needed such chairs if they would fit on her new balcony: one for her and one for Sadie. Of course if anyone decided to visit for a few days, Sadie would be happy to lie on the floor instead. Probably.

“No, Mom, this is perfect.” Perfect weather, food, location, and especially people.

“Did Patricia tell you she’s spending the night over here?”

“Yep.”

“Does it embarrass you that your mother and your boyfriend’s mother are arranging privacy so you can have sex?”

“A few weeks ago, maybe. Tonight, not at all.” Avi glanced at Ben, just come out of the house, carrying a tray with cups of coffee. Behind him, Patricia carried cream, sweetener, sugar, and spoons.

“You’ve never taken a trip like this before,” Beth said. “Two days on the road, with only Sadie for company…”

Avi smiled. She was thirty years old. She’d been driving half her life. But Beth was right. She’d flown to Fort Benning, Georgia, for basic training. She’d flown to her first duty assignment. In fact, she hadn’t bought a car until Fort Hood, Texas. The longest road trip she’d made was to Fort Carson, with two other transferring soldiers along for the ride.

“If you get tired, pull over,” Beth said. “Never, ever pick up hitchhikers. Don’t rely on sweets to keep you going; eat healthy meals and stretch your legs when you’re done. It’s better to fill up the tank when you don’t need to than to need it when there’s no gas station around. And most important: Never pass up a bathroom break. But carry a roll of toilet paper just in case.”

Ben and Patricia, who’d joined them with the coffee, burst into laughter, and so did Avi, but she pulled her mom into a fierce embrace first. “Mom, I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m the grown woman and potential mother of your grandchildren. Believe me, I can drive two days to Augusta.”

Beth hugged Avi tightly, then pulled back and blinked away her tears. “Maybe I should go with you. Your dad can handle things this weekend. I can make sure you get there safely and fly back Monday.”

Patricia slid her arm around Beth. “Remember the last road trip you took, honey? You missed the turn south for Dallas and were halfway to Amarillo before you realized it. And that was in Oklahoma City.”

Beth feigned righteous anger. “
I
was the driver.
You
were the navigator.
You
missed those turns.”

“My point exactly, which is that Avi is smart enough and capable enough to get wherever she needs to go without any help from either of us.”

Ben leaned close to Avi from behind. “That was her point?”

She took a cup from him and inhaled the incredible scents of coffee, sugar, and hazelnut. “I’m an innocent bystander. This conversation has nothing to do with me.”

The two women were still good-naturedly fussing when Ben slid into the chair beside Avi, another Adirondack, this one painted flamingo pink. “You need these chairs,” he remarked.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“And a big veranda to put them on.”

“My tiny balcony would have to do.”

“Tell me about your apartment.”

She sipped her coffee, then shrugged. “It’s just a regular apartment. It’s right off Gordon Highway, so I rented it more for its proximity to the main gate than its features. It’s got one bedroom, big windows, a small kitchen, and the aforementioned smaller balcony. The complex has a gym and a pool, and there’s access to a running trail. The walls are off-white, the carpet is tan, the tile is beige, and it’s got zero personality.”