Thin Ice (43 page)

"A woman who claims not to care doesn't flinch when a man wearing protective gear and padding colides with—"

"Of course I care, Mama. He could have ended his career, playing hurt like that!"

"I thought his career was the problem."

Caught, Emily groaned in defeat. “You don't understand."

Catrina's eyes remained steady and calm. “I'd like to.” When Emily didn't respond, Catrina gave her daughter an assessing look. “Do you know your son thinks you should marry this man?"

Emily nodded sadly, recaling Robbie's simple solution to their problems, the solemn earnestness with which he'd asked her to

“think about it."

"He wants me to marry Eric so he can have a father, so I can stay home and take care of him."

"I see. Has Eric asked you to marry him?"

"No."

"Does he love you?"

"Right now, he probably hates me."

Catrina thought of the pain and loneliness she'd seen in the man's eyes. The way he'd played as if he had nothing left to lose.

"I doubt that."

Emily smiled. “You're just biased."

Catrina returned the smile. “Only because I love you so much.” She reached out and smoothed Emily's hair. “Now, why don't we start at the beginning? Where did you meet?"

Emily chuckled dryly. “Where else? In the ER."

"After a game?"

"After a barroom brawl.” She explained about the brawl, described her first meeting with Eric. “Then he showed up at Robbie's school.” She told her mother about Eric's lectures, the athletic equipment he'd donated to the school, his community service award, and before she knew it, she'd backtracked and told Catrina the story from beginning to end. Including the part about Ryan's attack and threatened custody suit.

When Emily finished, Catrina asked in her non-judgmental way,

“Do you believe Eric beat his wife?"

"No."

"Do you believe he would intentionaly harm you or Robbie?"

"Never."

"Then why do you refuse to see him again?"

"Mama, I said some awful things to him."

"You were frightened and upset. You were protecting your son from what you considered a very real, very imminent threat. You were also trying to protect Eric. I'm sure he would forgive you if you explained what happened that night."

"I'm sure he would, too."

"Then I don't understand. Are you stil worried about Ryan?"

Emily shook her head. She'd talked with Miguel after her meeting with Patricia. Ryan was no longer an issue. He could file al the lawsuits he wanted, but his chances of being awarded custody of Robbie were nil with Patricia on their side.

"I know it doesn't make sense, but ... I'm scared, Mama."

"Of what, sweetheart?"

"I'm not sure anymore. Of making another mistake, I suppose. Of making a commitment and having it go sour. Of losing myself again.” making a commitment and having it go sour. Of losing myself again.” She met her mother's eyes. “If I married Eric, my life would never be my own again. I could end up in a strange city, totaly dependent on him. And after Ryan ... I don't want to lose my independence, Mama. I don't ever want to need or depend on a man again. It would be al to easy to depend on Eric.” She looked into her lap.

“Al too easy,” she whispered.

Catrina was silent for several minutes. Emily plucked at the petit-point pilow she'd nearly shredded earlier and blinked back her tears.

"May I offer a suggestion?” Catrina asked quietly.

Emily sniffed. “Go ahead. I sure don't know what to do anymore."

"Is it possible you're not comparing Eric to Ryan, but to your father?"

Emily frowned. The idea had never occurred to her. “What are you saying?"

"It seems to me, that since you haven't mentioned him since the night you arrived, you stil have a lot of unresolved feelings about your father."

"I'm sorry. I thought ... I ... didn't want to upset you."

"I have no problem with talking about Duane. I'l admit it hasn't always been that way, but for my children's sake I felt I had to put always been that way, but for my children's sake I felt I had to put our relationship in perspective. More than a few of your brothers and sisters felt the same way I suspect you do. I suppose I should have made that clear sooner, but I thought it best to let you make the first move, as I did with the others."

Emily said nothing, stil processing the idea that she might be comparing Eric to her father.

"Do you think about him at al?"

In the face of her mother's honesty, Emily could offer no less. “I try not to."

Catrina smiled with gentle understanding. “Then your feelings for him are stil buried deep inside you. Feelings of confusion, anger, perhaps disgust..."

"Mama...” Emily protested, embarrassed.

Catrina covered her daughter's hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“It's al right, sweetheart. I, better than anyone, know what your father was ... and wasn't.” Her eyes grew dark and solemn. “But I've made my peace with his memory. It's past time you made yours. If not for yourself, then for Eric.” Her voice gentled. “You're making him pay for another man's sins, Emily."

The idea appaled Emily. She started to object, but Catrina held up a staying hand. “Think about it. On the surface the similarities between Eric and your father seem quite visible. Your father was a between Eric and your father seem quite visible. Your father was a big man, known for his temper. Eric is a big man, and from what you've told me, also known for his temper. Your father was a drinker and barroom brawler. You met Eric after he'd been drinking and in a barroom brawl. Your father's profession kept him on the road more than at home. Eric's profession involves a lot of traveling

... do you see where I'm heading?"

Emily nodded, too stunned to speak. Catrina gave her hand a final squeeze. “Good. Then pick up the thread and see where it leads you.” She rose and dimmed the lights, preparing to leave.

Emily suddenly felt bereft. “Mama, don't go now..."

"I have to, sweetheart. This is something you have to do alone. You don't need me or anyone else to direct your thoughts or interfere with your memories.” She kissed Emily's forehead. “When you're through, I'l be in my room if you need me."

For over an hour Emily sat in the shadows and contemplated her mother's quiet wisdom. She wondered how often Catrina had had similar conversations with her other children. Wondered how often her mother had sat alone in the darkness of the house she'd shared with her husband, surrounded by painful memories, until she'd finaly summoned the strength to lay the past to rest.

Weak-wiled? Hah. Catrina Jordan didn't have a weak bone in her body. Emily had certainly been wrong about that.

As she had been about Eric.

As she had been about Eric.

Determinedly Emily caled up memories of her father, paged through them like an old scrapbook, and forced herself to lay them side by side with her memories of Eric.

Her mother was right. Surface similarities existed, but beyond those, the two men were as different as could be. Her father had spent most of his time and money on the road, and left his family to fend for themselves. Eric traveled often, but would never leave his family without support or security. Her father had ignored his children, while Eric had treated Robbie as his own from the start.

Her father had vented his frustration and bitterness on his wife, while Eric had channeled his into an acceptable outlet and forged himself a career in a profession he believed in. Her father had refused to give an inch, refused to apologize to anyone for his beliefs or actions, while Eric had been wiling to try to work it out every time they disagreed.

Emily dug deeper and deeper and continued her comparisons.

When she'd finished, she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Her relationship with her father had colored her responses to Eric from the start, painted her involvement with him the same shade of black.

As for Ryan...

She now saw her spoiled, selfish, insecure ex-husband for what he was. Young and naïve when she'd met him, she'd been drawn to his outward confidence, his seeming strength. By the time she'd realized outward confidence, his seeming strength. By the time she'd realized his cocky attitude was a façade, it was too late. So she'd vowed never to be taken in like that again, and pushed Eric—another strong, self-confident man, away.

She'd used her memories of her marriage to obscure the fact that she'd subconsciously measured Eric against the same warped yardstick she'd used to measure and condemn her father. And while she loved Eric, there had always been that seed of doubt in the back of her mind that one day he might turn on her like her father had turned on her mother.

She didn't seek out her mother. She caled Miranda.

"Emily!"

"I'm sorry for caling so late.” It was wel past two, but she wouldn't be able to sleep until she knew Eric was al right.

"Don't give it a second thought. I was up anyway, waiting for the guys. They'l rol in, in about an hour or so. What's up? I heard you were visiting your family. Something about a reunion?"

"Yes. That's right. A picnic up at Sutter's Lake."

Miranda groaned. “Don't talk about food. My mouth waters at the thought of it these days."

Emily laughed. “How's the baby?"

"Growing every day. I think we've got a hockey player from the feel of it, but Bil insists she's just a clumsy balerina."

"She? You're having a girl?"

"What can I say? I couldn't stand the suspense."

Their smal talk faded into silence. Emily wondered how to broach the subject of Eric without dampening Miranda's welcoming mood.

"Did you see the game tonight?” Miranda asked.

"Yes. How is he?” Emily's heart constricted at the memory.

"Holding up pretty wel, considering. I'm going to be blunt here, Emily. The man's an emotional wreck without you. He's doing his macho best to hide it, of course—"

"Miranda, please. I feel badly enough already."

"That's a good sign, at least. But seriously, I got your number from the school, and if you hadn't caled, I would have caled you. Eric's hurting, bad, and I'm not talking the kind of hurt that comes from bumps and bruises, although Lord knows he's got plenty of those these days. Those Bombers are animals. I'm glad Bil's not playing any more, and just between you and me, I was half hoping the Saints would lose tonight, if only to put the guys out of their misery."

"Do you see him often?"

Miranda laughed. “I ought to charge him room and board. He's been staying here while he's in town. He's beginning to drive me up a wal, but neither Bil nor I have the heart to throw him out.

Besides, it's only another week at most."

Emily didn't want to think about Eric leaving town. “Why doesn't he go to his apartment?"

"The one time I got irked enough to ask, he muttered something about ghosts. He needs your support, Emily. Especialy with this Granger business eating at him."

"Granger?"

"The Bombers coach. He realy has it in for Eric. I'm not sure why, though. I just know it's getting to him. When are you coming home?"

"Sunday."

"You can't make it any sooner?"

"The reunion's tomorrow."

"What time Sunday?"

"Around four."

"Great. I'l get you and Robbie tickets for the game. You can pick them up at the ticket office when you get there."

them up at the ticket office when you get there."

"Miranda—"

"Whatever else is going on between you, Emily, right now he needs to know you're in his corner. That's the best way to show him."

Emily hesitated, torn. She'd envisioned a more private reconciliation. Despite Miranda's enthusiasm, she wasn't sure what her reception would be.

"That is why you caled, isn't it? You're coming back to work things out?"

Emily hesitated, but Miranda was right. Eric needed to know she was in his corner. Off the ice and on. “Al right. We'l go to the game."

"Good girl. Come to think of it, if you keep him overnight, I'l name the baby after you."

"Miranda!"

"I'm not kidding, Emily. I'm a desperate woman. I need some time alone with my husband. I promise if you take Eric off my hands, I'l never push you into anything again."

Emily smiled, and looked forward to the idea of spending the night with Eric. But in the end it would have to be his choice.

"I'l give it some thought. See you at the game."

"I'm teling you, she caled."

Eric sent Miranda an I-realy-don't-need-this-right-now look and returned his attention to the steaming mountain of buttermilk pancakes she'd set in front of him just moments before she'd made her off-the-wal announcement. “Yeah, right."

"You don't believe me? I'm teling you, Eric, Emily caled me last night around two—"

"Just like that? Out of the blue?"

"She was worried about you. She saw you get hit."

Eric ruthlessly squelched the hope that rose in him at the thought that Emily stil cared. “I've been hit plenty of times lately, Miranda.

You're teling me that after two months of silence the good doctor suddenly decided to see how I was feeling?"

"It was more than that, Eric, and you know it."

"Miranda..."

She thumped the syrup on the table, making both Eric and Bil, who was trying to move as gingerly as possible this morning, wince. Eric was trying to move as gingerly as possible this morning, wince. Eric felt for his friend, but last night's win had been nothing short of a miracle. He'd even reluctantly joined the celebration. Between two lousy lukewarm beers, the seven pounds of sweat he'd lost during the game and the dehydrating effects of air travel, he'd felt no pain by the time they'd touched ground. But this morning his head hurt like hel.