Bed of Lies (45 page)

"And that I'm a happy woman," she added.

He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her again, his strong arms locked around her. It was the safest place in the world, she knew. Being in his arms.

"I think we're making some serious progress here. What happened?" he asked.

"Nothing," she insisted.

"Julie, you should know by now that doesn't work with me. It never will."

True. He saw right through her every single time.

"I just... had a little talk with Peter this afternoon. Actually, more of an argument, but... I realized he's scared. But he wants to believe me when I say I'm here to stay and I won't give up on him, in the same way I want to believe you when you say the same thing."

"I do," he said.

"And it was so frustrating, to be the person who knows how I feel and what I am determined to do. So now I know how you feel, and I'm sorry—"

"No. It's okay. I know why it's hard for you. I understand," he insisted. "So, what did you end up saying to Peter?"

"It wasn't until I got the words out that I realized I was using the same arguments with him that you'd already used with me. That I was just going to stay right here, with him, until he believed me. I wasn't going away, and I wasn't changing my mind."

"Which means... what? That I'm the most reasonable man in the world? And maybe the smartest?" He turned serious all of a sudden, looking both determined and hopeful. "Or does it maybe mean that you finally believe me? Believe that I know how I feel and what I want, and that's you?"

"It means... I think... you seem better. Stronger, more steady, more... you."

"I am," he insisted. "I'm talking it out, trying to make sense of the past. I know it really is the past, that the feelings are old ones, not things in the present to panic about. I think I'm both... not as strong as I thought I was and yet, in some ways, even stronger. I'm letting myself lean on the people I love, people who love me, and it's good. I'm better, and I'm going to be fine. I know that now."

She smiled softly and gave him a little kiss. "I know that, too, and I've been thinking about why I had so many doubts about you and me. About this relationship working."

"Okay. Tell me."

"I wondered what in the world I had to give you, Zach. You've always been so generous with me, so supportive. When I kept screwing up my life, you always seemed so together—"

"Not now," he said. "It's not like that now."

"I know, and I would never wish anything like this on you," she said, giving him a sad smile and fighting back tears. "But the thing is, you're not that perfect boy I fell in love with all those years ago."

"No, I'm not," he said, as if he feared that was a bad thing.

"You're a grown man, and you've actually made some mistakes lately. You had some doubts, some fears, some regrets."

"And you're trying to tell me you somehow find this attractive?"

"No, I'm saying I find it human. I find it not so intimidating. I see myself as not so lacking, not such a screw-up. And most important of all, I see that maybe you do need me."

"Oh, God, Julie, I do."

"Yes, you do." She nodded, smiling so hard her face hurt. "I needed to see that you need me, that I have things to give you in return. You let me help you, and I know it wasn't easy for you—"

"No, it wasn't. But now that I have, I can see how much I needed that. That it's just so good, having you in my life completely, knowing everything and standing by me anyway." He took a breath. "So what does that mean? That you get it? That we were meant for each other?"

"It's still... complicated. What about Peter?"

"What about him?"

"He's only thirteen. He's going to need me for years, Zach—"

"I know that. I would never ask you to turn your back on him."

"Still, it's a lot for anyone to take on. A messed-up thirteen-year-old boy?"

"So? We can handle it. Together. Or maybe we just get Dana to come live with us, too. He's an angel when she's around. What else is still worrying you?"

"What about this town... I just don't know, and I don't think Peter wants to be here at all, except because of Dana, of course."

"How do you feel about Cincinnati? It's really close, but it's not here. None of the baggage, all the proximity we need. Or, I need. I like being close to my family."

"Me, too. I love your family. Cincinnati sounds good to me."

"Good. I think I might still have a job there. I've been talking to some people, thinking about some things, and... I love what I do. I mean, it's hard, and I don't always love it. But I feel like it's important, and it's what I need to do. Still, it's one kid at a time, and there are just so many of them."

"And you probably get so tangled up in every one of them, and I just don't see how you keep doing that day after day. Important as it is, as strongly as you feel about it," she said.

He nodded. "There's another way to fight. State by state. State law by state law, I mean. Not as personal, not as immediate, but it has the power to make a huge difference in time. I talked to my boss at the foundation about it the other day."

"Oh, that sounds promising. What did he say?"

"He thinks it's smart in the long-run, if we can find some money for the fight. So do I. And I don't think it would take the emotional toll on me that individual clients and trials do. What else? I'm on a roll here."

"I... I don't know that I have anything else. Not at the moment," she admitted. "I just... I'm starting to see it. You and me together. To trust in us, what we want, what we feel."

He looked absolutely amazing in that moment. Happier and more handsome than she'd ever seen him.

She leaned in and kissed him softly, then asked, "So, do you want to make out on the back porch for a while? Or take me off to bed right now?

"Wow, that's a tough choice," he said.

She nodded, thinking in that moment, life was very, very good.

* * *

Two months went by so fast, it practically made Julie's head spin. The Christmas festival organizers did indeed need her in the worst way. They'd been right—no one could have come into the job cold, not knowing the town or the people or the festival, and gotten it done.

But she knew how the whole thing worked. When she was growing up, she'd alternately thought it was the most sickeningly sweet, fake thing in the world—a storybook, small-town Christmas—or looked at it with a sick kind of longing that can come only from a child who will never have a holiday like that.

This year, despite all the work she had to do, Zach made sure it was a Christmas to remember. She had to be at nearly all the events, and he insisted on coming with her, acting like they were visitors enjoying the festival. He claimed it would make her so much better at her job—seeing it all from that perspective—and he wanted her to be great at her job. Because he wanted her to keep it, so he could keep her here.

She knew he was worried about that—her being willing to stay—and it didn't seem so bad now.

Peter was doing okay. He went to school without grumbling most days, did most of his homework, hadn't gotten into any fights. They'd had tough days, like the one when their parents pleaded guilty to taking the money from the bank and were sentenced to two years in jail. But they'd gotten through it.

Zach's father and brother-in-law were working on the house, and most days Zach was there with them. He liked keeping busy, and when he was growing up he'd helped them a lot on job sites. So he knew what he was doing. The house looked like a different place. She couldn't imagine how good it would look when they were done.

Zach was feeling much better, like the man she'd always remembered, and yet different, in a good way. She'd never forget the vulnerability she'd seen in him, never forget the fact that he'd needed her. She thought he still did, and she knew she needed him.

He'd given her the time she'd asked for.

And now, somehow, it was a mere four days before Christmas. They were going to his parents' house for a party. Peter hadn't grumbled once about it. He was still smitten with Emma's oldest daughter. It was the funniest thing to watch. Awkward and sweet—and scary, thinking about the difficult years to come.

Julie had promised him she wouldn't leave him again, and she thought Peter was starting to believe it.

Zach called her every morning before she climbed out of bed to tell her that he was still there, right down the street, and that he still loved her. Nothing had changed there. She was starting to believe that nothing ever would.

As they stood on the doorstep that day so close to Christmas, she found it hard to believe how much her life had changed in just a few short months, how full it was, how happy. She wasn't scared anymore, wasn't waiting for the rug to be snatched out from under her. It had been so odd at first when the fear slowly fell away, and once it was gone, she wondered how in the world she'd managed to live that way for so long.

"Is Dana here yet?" Peter asked impatiently, as they waited at the door. He'd bought her a present and hidden it under his coat. He planned to slip it under the tree for her to find when she came here Christmas morning.

"I think so," Julie said. Cars were parked up and down the block. It seemed like half the town was here.

Sam opened the door himself and welcomed them inside. The house sparkled with candlelight and Christmas lights. It smelled heavenly. Rachel had been baking. And people were everywhere.

Peter went off to find Dana. Julie left her coat in the foyer and went off to say hello to Grace, who was looking puzzled by something.

"Why is the tree in the wrong place?" she asked Emma as Julie joined them.

Julie looked at it and thought it wasn't, that it had always been on that side of the fireplace, but Emma said, "I don't know. I asked Mom, and she got the funniest look on her face."

"I thought it had always been there," Julie said.

"Not for years," Grace said. "Like... I don't know. Ever since Mom and Dad replaced that old sofa with the sectional. When was that? Six years ago?"

"At least," Emma said.

"And that was such a change, it took us years to get used to it," Grace said. "Mom just doesn't change things like that. You know how she is about traditions."

Julie nodded, still thinking it looked to her like the tree was in the right place. One of Emma's daughters joined them and started complaining about the tree, too, and they all laughed.

It was a good party. Relaxed. Happy. Normal, Julie realized. This was how they did holidays in this house. This was why she used to sneak down here every chance she got and stay for as long as they'd let her.

She was feeling particularly nostalgic as the evening wore on. People started drifting off to go home. Peter went with Emma and her group for a sleigh ride afterward at the Christmas-tree farm Rachel's cousin owned.

Zach asked Julie to stay, and she found herself easing into what she'd always thought of as her corner of his house. When the tree had been up, she had been nearly under it, beside the fireplace, where it was warm.

She was thinking of those days, hiding here, soaking up the serenity, the laughter, the joy. At one time this place had been all she'd known that was good in the world, and Zach had always been here, always been a part of that. He came into the room and sat down on the floor beside her, putting his arm around her, kissing the side of her face. "Have a good time?"

"Yes. It was great. I can't believe it's almost Christmas."

It seemed like the time had flown by, and then at times, it seemed like she'd always been here. In her new life. With him. Already, she couldn't imagine living without him.

He picked up a little package from under the tree and handed it to her. "I have special permission for you to open this one thing early."

"Special permission?" She laughed, because it was too big to be a ring box and it weighed too much. It was maybe four inches square all around, so she figured she was safe.

"Yes. My mother has strict rules about these things."

"I remember." They were a Christmas-morning family. None of that opening things on Christmas Eve or earlier for the McRaes. "Sure I need to open it now?"

Zach nodded, looking at her intently, making her nervous with the look.

She got a little uneasy and started babbling instead of tearing at the paper. "We were talking about that earlier. How seldom your mother changes anything. Grace and Emma and about fifty other people commented on the tree being on this side of the room instead of the other."

"Uh-huh," he said.

And all of a sudden that made her nervous, too.

"I asked her to put it over here," he said.

That was... odd. Julie had a little trouble breathing all of a sudden. She managed to get out, "Why?"

"Why would I want the tree here, Julie?"

"I don't—"

"Yes, you do."

"Well... Why would this matter to him? Unless, he really had noticed everything, forever. Unless he would take note of the smallest things that had ever meant something to her. Even something like how she was most comfortable here in his house. "This is my corner," she said.