BOH 8-21-07 (00178434).DOC (5 page)

Dr. Wentworth rose and came around to the front of

her desk where she sat in one of the chairs next to Cyn.

“And how did having no choice make you feel?”

“Pissed off,” Cyn said, not caring how ungrateful she

sounded.

Again the woman laughed. “We’re off to a great start.

You’re open and honest and that’s a most important part

of the healing process.”

Cyn managed to control the urge to demonstrate to

the lady just how open and honest she could be. She’d go

through the motions, and at the end, she’d show everyone

that she’d finally accepted her loss and was ready to move

on with her life.

So what if she had to lie through her teeth?

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Cyn glanced away from the flowers blooming in the

backyard and gathered flour, sugar and eggs. “What kind

of cookies do you want to make?”

“Chocolate chip!” Katy yelled, jumping up and down.

The huge smile on the little girl’s face lifted Cyn’s

spirits. “Then chocolate chip it is. Get a bowl from the

cupboard under the—”

“I know where Mommy kept it.” Katy dropped to her

knees and squirmed her way to the back of the cupboard.

Obviously, nothing had been moved in the house since her

mother’s death. That was a good thing. Or was it?

Through her twelve sessions with Dr. Wentworth, she’d

learned that change sometimes worked as a catalyst for

grieving people to get their lives on track. For others,

change might put them back to square one in the healing

process.

By the time Katy found a wooden spoon and dragged

a stool over to the counter, Cyn had readied everything

she needed. She added all the ingredients to the glass

bowl and encouraged Katy to mix it.

Less than three minutes later, Katy said, “It’s getting

hard to stir, Cyn. Can you take over?”

“Sure. Adding all those chocolate chips certainly

slows down the mixing process. I’ll finish stirring while

you spray the cookie sheets. They’ll soon be ready for the

oven.”

Katy stood on the stool and helped Cyn spoon cookie

dough onto the baking pans. The oven door no sooner shut

on the first batch and Katy danced around the linoleum

clapping her hands. “I’m so excited. This is the first time

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since my mom—the first time in a long time that I’ve

made cookies.”

Cyn pulled the child into her arms and tried not to

fret about how right it felt to comfort her. “You miss your

mother a great deal.”

“Not like I used to, but having a mom is a good thing.

They’re different than daddies. I love having you here.

Almost like….”

Cyn pretended not to notice when Katy trailed off.

Would her constant presence in Katy’s life cause the child

more unnecessary pain? It didn’t take a rocket scientist to

see that Katy had grown attached to her in the past three

months.

Scooping the dirty dishes off the counter, Cyn filled

the sink with hot sudsy water. “Perhaps some day you’ll

have another mother. Your dad might meet someone,

and—”

Katy stomped her foot. “No!” Face red, eyes pooling

with tears, she stood with her hands on her hips, her

lower jaw thrust forward. “My daddy will never marry

anyone unless I say so.”

The oven timer buzzed. Cyn breathed a sigh of relief.

“Let’s set these babies on a rack to cool. They should be

ready to eat when your dad gets home.”

“I wish Daddy could work regular hours like Misty’s

Dad does,” Katy said, her earlier thoughts tucked away,

or at least so Cyn hoped.

“Yep, weird hours are something military families get

used to.”

Katy tilted her head, looking up at her. “You smile

more than when you first came. Do you still miss your

husband?”

Cyn’s tongue went numb. Did she miss Peter as

much as she had three months ago? The sharp pain had

dulled somewhat. She could now talk about him and their

new life without bursting into tears. This was a good

thing. Then why did guilt prick her conscience?

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Pam Champagne

A scrumptious scent hit Mike full force as soon as he

opened the door. It had been so long since he’d smelled

fresh baked cookies that it took him a minute to realize

what it was. He’d opened his mouth to call out just as

Katy asked her question.

Lurking like a fugitive in his own home, he leaned

against the wall and waited for Cyn’s answer.

“Well, yes.” Mike heard the hesitancy in her voice. “I

imagine I’ll always miss him, but I’ve accepted that he’s

gone. Being sad won’t bring him back.”

“Just like my mommy,” Katy said. “Do you still love

him?”

“A person doesn’t stop loving someone when they die.

You still love your mommy.”

“Yes, but….”

Katy spoke too low for him to hear her answer. After

a long moment of silence, Mike pushed away from the

wall to enter the kitchen.

“You could marry daddy and me.”

Mike’s stomach plummeted before shooting up into

his throat at his daughter’s bold statement.

Cyn laughed. “People get married because they’re in

love, Katy. Not to please little girls.”

“Don’t you love me?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Then, why can’t you be my mommy?”

“Your father and I aren’t...we don’t...there are other

considerations.”

Mike backtracked to the front door, opened and

slammed it shut. “Hello! Smells great in here.”

If he hadn’t heard the conversation, he’d have figured

the flushing in Cyn’s cheeks came from the oven. Her gaze

barely brushed his before she tossed the baking dishes

into a sink of soapy water.

Katy launched herself into his arms. “Daddy! You’re

just in time for cookies and milk.”

Mike held his daughter, giving her a hard hug. “I

swear you get bigger every day. One of these days, I’m not

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going to be able to lift you.”

“Me and Cyn made cookies. Your favorite. Chocolate

chip.”

“Hmmm. I smelled them before I opened the door.”

“Katy, go wash up and get your jammies on. Then

you can have a snack before bed.”

Katy slid to the floor and ran to do Cyn’s bidding.

“’Kay. Be right back.”

Mike caught and held Cyn’s gaze. “First time I’ve

seen her so willing to get ready for bed.”

Cyn looked everywhere but at him. “We need to talk.

There’s a slight problem with Katy.”

Mike reached into the cupboard for some plates and

glasses. He glanced over his shoulder, keeping a poker

face. “What kind of problem? Did something happen in

school?”

She shook her head. “No. Nothing like that. She’s

decided that you and I...that we should get married.” Her

gaze dropped to the floor.

Mike bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

Seemed he and his daughter were traveling the same

track. “Is that right?”

Her head jerked up. “It’s not healthy that she’s

wishing for something that’s not going to happen.”

“So you set her straight?”

She fidgeted with the dishcloth in her hands. “I tried,

but I couldn’t find the right words. Besides, you’re her

father. You should be the one to explain.”

Mike smiled. “Okay. Consider it done. Fix up a plate

with some cookies, and I’ll take it upstairs.”

Cyn’s stomach fluttered at the sound of Mike’s heavy

boots descending the stairs. He’d been gone almost an

hour.

The question burst out the moment he walked in the

kitchen. “Did you talk to her?”

“I tried.”

“What do you mean?”

He brushed the back of his hand over his eyes, a

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gesture he often did when he was tired. “She’s insistent

that we’d make a great family. Even wants a brother and

sister thrown into the deal. Not either or, but one of each.”

Cyn worried the towel she’d been folding. “Maybe I

should leave. These fantasies can’t be healthy.”

“I agree. About her fantasies, not about you leaving.

Perhaps now is a good time for you to move to the

apartment. Your belongings are there ready and waiting.”

Dread slammed her hard. The thought of leaving this

house, a place she’d come to think of as home, brought a

lump to her throat.
In moderation, change will help you

grow.
Somehow, Dr. Wentworth’s words didn’t make her

feel any better.

“Do you think that will help? She’d still see me

everyday.”

Mike’s intense green eyes bored into her soul,

searching…for what? “I think a gradual move will better

prepare her for when you decide to head out on your own.”

She reeled at his words. Where was this coming

from? Her inner voice whispered there was more to this

than Katy’s feelings. “Mike, be honest with me. Do you

want me to leave? I can do that. It might take me a few

weeks to get my bearings, but—” Great. Now she sounded

like a panicked fool. Without a backward look, she left the

kitchen.

Mike dogged her heels to the living room and clasped

her trembling hands. “Hey, look at me.” He tilted her chin

when she refused to meet his eyes. “I’m not trying to get

rid of you. You know better than that. I suggested what I

feel is best for everyone.” He playfully cuffed her chin.

“I’m getting used to having you around twenty-four -

seven. Maybe we all need a reality check.”

He gaze slid away from his. “I guess so. I’ll start

straightening out the apartment.”

Mike stopped touching her and took a step back.

“How’d your visit with Dr. Wentworth go today?”

Cyn busied herself folding laundry. “I like her. She’s

a nice woman.”

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“Yes, she is. She put up with me while I grieved for

Mary Jo.”

Mention of his wife, softened any remaining hard

feelings that lingered at Mike for forcing her into this

therapy. “How long did you see her?”

He flopped on the couch. “About six months of weekly

visits.”

Her gaze moved from the muscles in his thighs to the

scar on his chin. Her breath hitched. For the first time she

saw Mike as a flesh and blood man. Not any man, but one

that caused her heart to race a bit faster.

He yawned. “Then for the next six months, I’d call to

make an appointment if I felt myself slipping.”

Her jaw dropped. “A whole year?”

“Everyone’s different. Some accept their loss faster

than others. I was slow.”

“Maybe because of Katy.”

“Possibly.”

Cyn took steps toward the couch and stopped short.

What the hell was she doing? She backtracked to the

laundry. “Katy and I didn’t eat all the beef stew. Want a

bowl?”

Yawning again, he swung his long legs off the couch.

“No thanks. My stomach’s full of cookies. I think I’ll just

hit the hay. It’s been a long night.”

With a nod, he climbed the stairs. Cyn finished

folding Katy’s clothes and thought about the huge void

he’d left behind. With her therapist’s help, she’d come to

terms that as much as she loved Peter, she’d depended on

him for her happiness. A very unhealthy situation. She

mustn’t allow herself to go from one dependent

relationship to another. And the physical stirrings she

experienced around Mike made her doubly cautious.

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Pam Champagne

Three days later dawned damp and dreary. Not

wanting to put off her move, she dragged a reluctant Katy

to the apartment. Now she smiled at Katy’s sour face.

“Why don’t you take the forks, knives and spoons out of

that box and arrange them in the silverware container.”

Ever since Mike had spilled the beans about Cyn moving

to the apartment, the little girl had been in a perpetual

pout.

Katy reached into the cardboard box and took out one

spoon. “I don’t understand why you have to move up here.

What’s wrong with our house?”

Rain pounded against the windowpanes in unison

with Katy’s protests. Cyn sat on the floor and held out her

arms. “Come here.”

In a flash, the child plunked herself on Cyn’s lap. “I

don’t want you to move out. I love you.” As if to prove her

point, Katy hugged her tight around the neck.

Cyn inhaled the clean soapy scent of Katy’s hair

while she rubbed the small back. “And I love you.

Nothing’s going to change.”
For a while.
“Other than I’ll

be sleeping here instead of in the main house.”

“But I like crawling in bed with you in the morning.”

Cyn gently grasped the small shoulders. “Look at

me.” Katy eyes filled with tears. “I think you know why

I’m moving up here.”

Her blue-eyed gaze slid away. Cyn bent her head to

hear the softly whispered answer. “Because I wanted you

to marry me and Daddy.”

Great. The kid had nailed it on the head. “That’s part

of it. I’m only a temporary guest, Katy. It’s important you

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understand I can’t live here forever.”