Just a Wish Away (29 page)

“Why don’t I buy you a drink to toast your birthday?”

“Uh…” She didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t as if she had other plans, but he was a stranger.

“I promise, no more depressing conversation. We’ll have a drink in honor of your new decade. I might even buy you another cake.”

“I don’t know you.”

“That makes it better, doesn’t it?” he said with a challenging smile. “You can let your hair down. Be whoever you want to be.”

She had no idea who that person would be, but the idea was definitely appealing. Still, old habits died hard. “I should say no.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not smart to go out with a perfect stranger. You could be an axe murderer or a serial killer or a life insurance salesman.”

His deep, infectious laugh lit up the night, and his sparkling eyes made her feel like she’d been kicked in the stomach – or swept off her feet.

“I’m not any of those things.”

“And you’d tell me if you were?”

“Good point, but isn’t thirty about facing your fears? It’s just a drink in a public place. Unless you’re scared of a pina colada?”

“Why would you
ever
think I would order a pina colada?”

“Because you’re too funny and honest to be the martini type.”

“Which is what?”

“Sophisticated, brittle, phony laugh, dyed blonde hair, icy blue eyes, doesn’t really give a damn about anyone but herself.”

“That certainly rolled right off your tongue,” she said, giving him a thoughtful look. “Why do I get the feeling you’re describing someone in particular?”

“Guilty.” He paused. “Get a drink with me and prove me wrong.”

She hesitated. “I don’t have anything to prove.”

His gaze met hers and for some reason she had the feeling he could read her mind. “Don’t you?”

His challenge hung in the air for a long minute. Of course she had something to prove. She was going to change her life. And what better way to start than to do something she wouldn’t normally do?

Besides that, she was intrigued by and attracted to this man, this stranger, who’d appeared out of nowhere. The idea crossed her mind that maybe he’d been sent to fulfill her birthday wish, but that was a foolish thought. He’d just lost his dad after a terrible illness. He’d come up to the roof to catch his breath. He hadn’t come for her. It was purely coincidence.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She drew in a deep breath, feeling like she was about to cross over a line she couldn’t cross back. But if she was ever going to take a chance, it might as well be now.

“Liz,” she said. “My name is Liz. And I’d like that drink.”

* * *

“Surprise! Happy birthday!”

Angela Payne stopped just inside the front door of her three-bedroom apartment in San Francisco’s Sunset District. Smiling faces appeared from behind every piece of furniture, each one looking more sheepish than the next. She inwardly sighed. They should feel guilty. She’d told everyone that she didn’t want a party to celebrate thirty-five. Time was not her friend, but her large Italian family turned every holiday or occasion into a party. The dining room table was laden with food, and music played loudly over the speakers. Judging by her Uncle Rico’s red face, the wine was already flowing.

“I’m sorry. I tried to stop them,” her husband Colin whispered as he kissed her on the cheek. “But your mother is a force of nature.”

Looking at her five-foot-three-inch mother, Mary Margaret Razzini, no one would believe she was a force of anything, but her personality was much bigger than her stature. Angela had never yet won a battle where her mother was concerned, and she’d had far more practice than Colin.

Her mother lifted her chin, planted her hands on her waist, and said firmly, “It’s your birthday, Angela. Of course you must have a party.” She waved her hands in the air as she always did when she spoke. “I made three kinds of lasagna. You’ll eat, you’ll laugh, and you’ll have fun. Mama knows best.” Her mother turned her head sharply as one of the grandchildren tugged on her skirt. “Yes, yes, Jimmy. I will get you some lemonade.” She headed off to the kitchen, as if she owned the place.

“I’ll help her,” Colin said quickly, disappearing before she could remind him that the only request she’d made for her birthday was to have a private dinner with him. She had things she wanted to discuss, but not in front of her family.

“Try the shrimp cheese puffs,” Lisa said, holding up a silver tray. “I made them myself.”

She stared down at her petite, dark-haired sister and gave her a glare. “I told you I didn’t want a party.”

“It makes Mama happy to take care of you. She’s been so lost since Daddy died.”

“Daddy died nine years ago. When are you going to stop offering that excuse for everything Mama does that we don’t like?”

“She still misses him,” Lisa said with a shrug. “Try one of my puffs.”

Angela popped a shrimp cheese puff into her mouth. It was hot, tangy, and delicious. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” Lisa echoed in annoyance. “They’re spectacular. And who are you to criticize, anyway? You can’t even make good spaghetti sauce. You’re lucky Colin can cook, or you’d starve to death.”

She smiled at her younger sister’s predictable reaction. Pushing Lisa’s insecurity button was an old habit and probably one she should have outgrown by now. “I was just kidding. The puff is fabulous.” It was true that she couldn’t cook like her two sisters and her mother. But then, she’d always been the odd one out, a tall, blue-eyed blonde in a sea of dark-eyed brunettes, some latent gene from her grandmother. She preferred painting to cooking. She was the artist in the family, the one who lost track of time while sketching a picture, the one who had no domestic talents. Fortunately, her husband didn’t mind cooking or eating take-out.

“I also made the cannelloni,” Lisa added, waving her hand toward the dining room table where most of the party was gathered. “It’s better than Gina’s, but don’t tell her I told you that.”

“Believe me, I won’t.” Gina and Lisa had competed with each other for as long as she could remember, and she’d always been caught in the middle, each one wanting her to take their side. “David must count his lucky stars every day that he married you,” she said, popping another puff into her mouth. She waved to David, who was sitting on the couch with one of his two children on his lap. His belly hung over his belt, a definite sign that he’d been sampling more than a few of Lisa’s puffs.

“David is driving me crazy,” her sister confided. “He wants me to have another baby, as if we don’t have our hands full with the ones that we–” She bit off the end of her sentence, her brown eyes darkening. “Sorry, Angie.”

“It’s fine,” she said quickly, not wanting to get into that subject.

“It’s not fine, and I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“What’s going on?” Gina asked, interrupting their conversation. She handed Angela a glass of wine. “What’s the look on your face about? You can’t possibly be that mad about the party.”

She really didn’t want to talk to Gina tonight. Whereas Lisa was insecure about her choices, her older sister Gina was always right. She had a strong personality and never had any trouble expressing her opinions, which made her a very good lawyer but not the nicest person to be around.

“Would it matter if I was?” she asked.

“Mama is the one who gave birth to you. If she wants to celebrate your birthday, you should smile and say thank you,” Gina told her. “She went through eighteen hours of labor to bring you into the world. That was no picnic.”

Her gut tightened. No matter what conversation she seemed to be in, it always came down to babies. “I have to wash my hands,” she muttered.

As she walked away, she could hear Lisa telling Gina how stupid she was to bring up the subject of their mother giving birth, and Gina replying, “For God’s sake, doesn’t Angela ever think about anyone but herself?”

This was exactly why she hadn’t wanted a party. She loved her family, but lately she couldn’t stand being around them. Her sisters and cousins were all married. They had children. Some even had teenagers. She was so far behind the curve it was ridiculous. She was jealous. She knew it. They knew it, too.

In the bathroom, she closed the door and stared at her face in the mirror. She’d never imagined she’d be thirty-five and without a baby. But three attempts at in-vitro fertilization had left her with an empty womb and a bankrupt savings account. Time was running out. She might have only one more chance. Colin had recently received a big bonus at work, and she knew just how she wanted to spend the money. She had hoped to talk to him about it tonight, but that would have to wait until they were alone. She certainly didn’t want any input from her mother or her sisters.

She washed her hands, splashed water on her face, and reapplied her lipstick. She was too thin, too pale. She’d always had a tendency to wear her stress on her face and today it was all there. She forced a smile. She just had to get through the next few hours. Her family had gone to a lot of trouble for her. She had to at least pretend to be happy. As Gina said, it wasn’t always about her.

Leaving the bathroom, she walked down the hall and into the dining room. Colin was filling a plate at the buffet table. At forty, her husband could still make her heart skip a beat. He was a very attractive man, tall and lean, with light brown hair and golden brown eyes. He’d taken off his suit jacket, loosened his tie, and rolled the sleeves of his white dress shirt up to his elbows. His hair was mussed. He had a habit of running his fingers through it whenever he was tired or worried. She could always tell what kind of day he’d had by the way his hair looked. Tonight it was a mess, probably because her mother had railroaded him into throwing her a surprise birthday party.

Turning, he caught her watching him and gave her an apologetic smile. “I made this for you, Angie.”

She walked over and took the plate out of his hands. “Thanks.”

He handed her a fork. “No knife for you. I’m afraid you’ll use it on me.”

“Good thinking.”

“Your family loves you so much. They wanted to make you happy. I got swept up in their enthusiasm. By the time your mother finished talking to me, I was convinced that throwing you a surprise party was the best idea in the world, until you walked through the door a few minutes ago.”

“It’s okay. Your intentions were good.” She looked around the crowded apartment, knowing she was lucky and blessed. “Everyone wants me to be happy, including you, and I have an idea about that.”

“So do I. Come with me.” Colin led her into the kitchen, which was surprisingly empty. He took an envelope out of the drawer and handed it to her. “This is your real birthday surprise.”

Her pulse leapt with expectation. “What’s this?”

“Your present. I’ve been thinking about what to do with that bonus I got from work, and I came up with the perfect idea.”

“Me, too,” she said, meeting his gaze. “I wanted to talk to you about it tonight. It seems like fate that your bonus is exactly the amount we need to…” She opened the envelope, expecting to see a letter with an appointment time at the fertility clinic, like so many they’d received in the past. Instead, she saw tickets – tickets to some sort of cruise.

“The Caribbean,” Colin said with excitement in his voice. “Ten days cruising the high seas, just you and me. Miles of ocean, music, casino action, and all the food you can eat. It will be a second honeymoon, a new start. We can talk about what we want to do with the rest of our lives.”

“You spent your bonus on a cruise?” she asked in shock.

“Yes. Why?” His smiled dimmed. “What’s wrong, Angie?”

She looked into his eyes, wondering how he could possibly be confused about her reaction. “I thought we would use the money to try IVF one more time. It’s the exact amount we need.”

The blood drained out of his face. His jaw tightened. “We agreed that we were done after the last time.”

“We didn’t agree. We just ran out of money. But now we have the money.”

He shook his head. “It’s not about the money. It’s about you and me. I can’t watch you go through it again. I can’t see the hope in your eyes and then the despair. I’m afraid one of these days you’ll break, and I won’t be able to put you back together. Some things are not meant to be. We have to accept it.”

“The doctor still thinks it could happen for us. I’m only thirty-five. There’s still time – but not a lot of time. Each year the odds go down.”

“You hear what you want to hear. The doctor told you it might never happen, Angie.”

“He also said it might,” she argued. “How can you give up?”

He put his hands on her shoulders, gazing into her eyes. “We’re happy, aren’t we? We love each other. We have good friends, family, nieces and nephews to spoil. You have your gallery, your painting. Why can’t that be enough for you?”

“Because it can’t.” She stepped away from him, unable to bear his touch. He was trying to take away her dreams.

“You have to be realistic–”

“No, I need to have a baby. And I don’t want to look back in five years and say, What if I had just tried one more time? Don’t you think we owe it to ourselves to take one last chance?”