Wish 01 - A Secret Wish (11 page)

Liz gazed up at the stars in amazement. Tonight seemed to be a night of stunning views, first from the roof of the hospital, then from Potrero Hill, and now from a boat in the Marina. Away from the city lights, there was an endless array of stars, and along with those sparkling lights came a feeling of anticipation.

Lowering her gaze from the night sky, she called to John, “Did you get lost?”

“Be right there,” he yelled back.

She settled against soft, billowing pillows on a bench seat at the back of the boat. She’d imagined something small with a big sail, not this luxurious yacht with a large stateroom down below and a fully stocked galley. John’s friend obviously had some money.

John came up the stairs and set a tray on the table in front of her. Two steaming cups of coffee greeted her as well as a small plate of chocolates.

“More food?” she said with a groan. “I’m definitely going to need that diet resolution after tonight.”

“Hey, it’s your birthday.”

“We passed from my birthday to yours a few hours ago. Speaking of which–" She reached into her bag and pulled out the card she’d purchased earlier. She handed to him. “For you.”

“This is what you got at the store?” he asked as he opened the envelope. He read the sentiment and laughed. “
Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional
.” He grinned at her. “Are you saying I’m not a grown up?”

“I’m saying I hope you don’t ever lose your spirit. Your joy in living is contagious, John. If that makes you Peter Pan, then I’ll be Wendy. Because when I’m with you, I feel like I’m flying.” She put her hands on his shoulders and gazed into his eyes, seeing the same glitter of desire that she was feeling – but he was fighting it. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want you to have regrets.”

“I won’t,” she said with a certainty that surprised even her. “I want this. I want you. You’re my birthday wish.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t wish for me.”

“Didn’t I?” she murmured. “You showed up at just the right time.” She frowned. “Why are you resisting? Aren’t you the man who lives for new experiences? I could be fantastic in bed.”

He grinned. “I’m sure you would be. But I don’t want to hurt you. You’re not a hook-up kind of girl.”

“I’m not asking you for anything. No promises. No plans. Nothing.”

“It’s easy to say that now…”

“Now is all that matters. Who knows what the future will bring? But we have tonight. I’ve been cautious too long.” She pressed her lips against his mouth, then said, “Let’s fly."

His arms came around her waist, pulling her up sharply against his body. The easygoing man who’d been so charming and lighthearted suddenly seemed intense and even a little dark. But she wanted his intensity. She wanted the sudden emotion swirling between them, because no matter what she’d said, this wasn’t just a hook-up. She wanted to get past John’s barriers the way he’d gotten past hers. She wanted to connect on a deep, emotional level. She wanted to fall in love.

* * *

Angela stared at the half-finished paintings in the room across the hall from where the girls slept. She hadn’t been able to paint anything to completion in almost three years. It was as if her subconscious refused to put an end to anything – including her dream of having a baby.

She stepped up to the easel, tracing the lines with the tip of her finger. Her last effort had been this landscape. It had come out of a dream like so many of her pictures – a beautiful park, a tranquil pond, a couple of ducks by the waterfall, and in the distance a playground, a baby stroller… She drew in a breath and let it out. That was where she’d stopped. She hadn’t been able to finish, because there was no baby in that stroller and there was a good chance there never would be.

The door behind her opened, and she whirled around in surprise. While it wasn’t a hard and fast rule, in recent years she’d made it pretty clear to Colin that she didn’t want him in her studio. He’d been hurt at first, because he’d always supported her art, but after seeing her half-finished paintings, he’d been happy enough to leave. They’d just reminded him how stuck she was when it came to anything that distracted her from her dream of having a child.

It wasn’t Colin in the doorway; it was Kimmie.

“Honey, are you all right?” she asked quickly.

Kimmie held her bear in one hand while she rubbed her eye with the other. “I woke up.”

“Do you need something to drink?”

She shook her head as she walked toward the painting. “This is pretty. Did you draw it?”

“I did.”

Kimmie tilted her head. “How come there aren’t any people in it?”

“It’s not done yet,” she said.

“Maybe you could put me in the picture,” Kimmie suggested.

"That's a good idea."

“Laurel doesn’t let me go to the park. She says we have to stay in the house while Mommy is gone.”

“Your sister is very smart. You should listen to her.”

“But I like the swings, and all the other kids go to the park. Maybe Mommy will take me when she comes back.”

The hope in Kimmie’s voice made Angela sad. The little girl might still have faith in her mother now, but how long would it take for her to lose that faith? It was clear that Laurel had already lost hope. She hated to see that happen to Kimmie, too.

“If my mom doesn’t come back, maybe you could take us,” Kimmie added. A sudden burst of coughing followed her words.

“I’d like that,” she said. Kimmie had no idea how drastically her life might change in the morning, but now wasn’t the time to tell her. She needed to sleep. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

Kimmie slipped her tiny hand into hers with a trusting smile, and followed her to the guest room. Laurel was fast asleep, so Angela gave Kimmie some cough medicine, got her settled and stayed next to the bed until Kimmie fell asleep. Then she left, but instead of heading to her bedroom, she returned to the studio.

For several long minutes she stared at the painting … and then she reached for brushes and paint. She had no conscious thought of how she would finish the picture, but as soon as she began to paint, the figures took shape.

An hour or so later, she heard another sound, and this time it was Colin in the doorway. She wondered how long he’d been there, because there was an odd look on his face. “You’re painting again,” he said.

“I felt suddenly inspired.”

He walked into the room and saw the children and families who now populated the painting. “You said you couldn’t give anyone a happy ending until you had one,” he said, reminding her of something she’d once said in a fit of anger and resentment.

“It’s just a picture."

“It's more than that. It's you. It's your vision. You’re so talented, Angela. Do you know how good this is?”

Warmth spread through her at his compliment.

“You’ve always been so much more than just a woman who couldn’t have a baby,” he added. “I wish you could see that the way I do.”

“I think I’m starting to,” she said slowly, unwilling to completely let go of the desire to procreate that had held her in a tight grip for the last eight years. "I forgot how much I love to paint."

“Keep going. Finish it,” he told her.

“I will,” she promised.

After he left, she painted with even more enthusiasm, picking up one discarded picture after another, adding new shades, mixing colors, taking chances. When she finally set down her brush, she was exhausted. She stepped back in wonder, amazed at what she’d done. None of the paintings had been completed as she’d originally intended. But they were good. Maybe even better than she’d imagined.

* * *

“It’s almost time for that sail,” Liz said sleepily, as she nestled against John’s broad shoulder. After making love twice, they’d fallen asleep on the narrow bench under the stars, a blanked wrapped around them like a cocoon.

“I don’t think I can move,” he said, as he stroked her bare back with his hand.

“That’s okay with me,” she replied, more than content to stay where they were.

“No regrets?” he asked.

She lifted her head and gave him a thoughtful look. In the dawn light, he looked endearingly handsome with his morning stubble. But there was something in his eyes that gave her pause. “No regrets for me. What about you?”

He smiled. “Are you kidding? You were amazing.”

“
We
were amazing,” she corrected. “I can’t quite believe how all this came to be, John. One minute I’m having a pathetic party of one on the roof of the hospital and the next minute I’m dancing, drinking, having the time of my life. It's crazy how fast life can change. Thank God you decided to get some air last night and come up to the roof. Otherwise, I never would have met you.”

“Fate,” he said, his fingers gently pushing her hair off her face.

“It feels like that,” she said, gazing into his eyes. “I have a feeling my thirties are going to be better than my twenties.”

“I think you’re going to have a fantastic life, Liz.”

His words didn’t make it sound like he was planning to be a part of her fantastic life. Well, what did she expect? He’d told her the night before that he couldn’t make any promises. She forced a smile to her lips, unwilling to let him see that she was already emotionally attached to him. “It is going to be great.”

He nodded, but there was something unsettling in his somber gaze.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Not a thing.”

She frowned. “I’m trying not to be a girl and ask a lot of questions, but your mood is worrying me.”

“Don’t try to be anything but what you are, Liz. That’s more than good enough.” He paused. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to take that sail this morning.”

“Why not?”

“I have somewhere else I need to be.”

“Since when?”

“Since I realized that I need to keep an appointment I wasn’t sure about.”

“That’s vague,” she said with a frown.

He smiled. “I don’t want you to worry, Liz. Tonight meant a lot to me. Meeting you was – life-changing.”

Her nerves tingled at the look in his eyes. “No one has ever said that about me.”

“Well, it’s true. You’re different.”

“Now,
that
I’ve heard.”

“Different in a good way,” he said. “You’re smart, honest, completely without pretension. And you’ve survived a lot.”

“I don’t want to just survive any more. I want to live the way you do, John. I want to make big goals and reach for the stars. I don’t want to settle for someone who isn’t right for me just so I won’t be alone. I don’t want to be content with a glass that’s only half full. I don’t want to spend so much time worrying about not having a boyfriend or being married or having children that I don’t enjoy the life I’m actually having.”

He smiled. “You got all that from a night of champagne and dancing?”

“I got all that from you. Your enthusiasm is contagious.”

“So is your rediscovered fighting spirit. I’m impressed.”

“Hopefully it will last.” She paused, noting the shadow in his gaze once again. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No.”

“Can you tell me what’s going on in your head?

“That’s not a conversation for tonight.”

“It’s pretty much morning.”

“But not quite,” he said, pulling her down for a kiss.

* * *

Liz woke to the heat of the sun on her face. She blinked against the bright light, taking a minute to gather her wits about her. She was naked, and she was alone. Abruptly, she sat up. “John?”

There was no answer.

She wrapped the blanket around her and walked down the stairs. The galley and stateroom were empty, and so was the bathroom.

Worry followed her back up the stairs. She grabbed her clothes and dressed quickly, wondering where John had gone. When she reached for her shoes, she saw the box on one of the bench seats. There was a cup of coffee and a bag of bagels and cream cheese inside.

There was also a note.

She sat down and opened the folded piece of paper, her hand shaking as her uneasiness increased. She wasn’t an expert at one-night stands, but she didn’t think that John taking off could possibly be a good sign, even if he had left her bagels and coffee. Something had been going on with him last night. Something not even his charming smile could completely hide.

Liz
,

Sorry to take off without saying good-bye, but it’s easier this way. At least for me, and you might not know this about me, but I can be selfish. Last night I didn’t go up to the roof to get some air. I went up with one crazy thought – to throw myself off.

She drew in a quick breath of shock, then forced herself to keep reading.

You assumed I was there because my father died. But that wasn’t the only reason. My dad actually passed away six months ago, and I've been mourning him. But I was in the hospital yesterday for a pre-surgical appointment. Three weeks ago I was diagnosed with a brain tumor. The doctors said my only option was surgery. It’s risky, and there’s a good chance I won’t wake up, and even if I do, I might be irrevocably damaged. I realized that every dream I'd ever had was in jeopardy. I might never sail under the Golden Gate Bridge. I might never even walk or talk again. I might not be me. The idea of not being able to live life on my terms sent me up to that roof last night. And then I met you.

At first, I was just postponing the inevitable. You wanted a crazy, wonderful night, and I wanted the same. I wanted to go out with a bang. I wanted to take the boat and sail into the horizon and maybe never come back. But somewhere in the night, I realized that I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to give up without a fight – the way your mom did. I hadn’t thought about the people I’d be leaving behind. I don’t have much family, but I do have some friends, and they’d hate me for taking the easy way out. I know you think I changed you, but the truth is that you changed me.

I was scheduled for surgery this morning. I decided to keep the appointment, to fight for my life.

I don’t want you to worry about me, Liz. You’re the type of woman who would stick through thick or thin. My last girlfriend took off the day after I got the diagnosis. I didn’t really blame her. This is my problem, my challenge. I want you to go out and live your life the way you were meant to. And one of these days, I hope we’ll meet again. In the meantime, I want you to be happy.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she realized exactly what he was saying. How could he possibly have a brain tumor? He’d shown no signs of illness the night before. But she’d felt his desperation the last time they’d made love. It was as if he had been trying to make it the best it could ever be. Maybe because he’d thought it was truly the last time. Damn. She blinked away the tears so she could read the rest of his letter.

P.S. I know you’re thinking right now that you need to find me and that you want to help me. Don’t come. Don’t waste your day. I want you to go to Faith’s Fancies. It’s a great little bakery in North Beach, and they’re going to have a special cake waiting for you. I want you to have it – to replace the one I made you drop. That’s what you can do for me.

And stop crying, Liz. If I hadn’t met you, I would have missed out on one of the greatest nights of my life. I truly have no regrets.

John

She set down the letter, unable to stop crying as he’d requested. It amazed her that he knew her so well, anticipating every move she would want to make, because she really did want to find him. She wanted to be there for him. And she would.

Jumping to her feet, she realized that the only reason he would have been on that roof was because his doctor was in the hospital. She’d find him. She had to do more for him than just eat a birthday cake.