Wish on the Moon (28 page)

Her fear was gone where that was concerned.
With all her heart she wanted to stay. But she couldn't because of
Mitch. "All my life I've wanted to be your partner. And I'd like to
now. But I can't." She had to be honest with him. "Mitch doesn't
want me here. Before yesterday, I thought we had a chance. But then
he found out I knew about Carey--" She bit her lip to keep it from
trembling.

"It's more than that, isn't it?"

"Yes. There's your will and the partnership.
I can't take away from Mitch what he's worked so hard to earn."

"If you stayed and worked with him--"

"He doesn't trust me, Dad. He doesn't trust
his feelings. If he asked me to stay, if he could say he loves me,
I'd know he believes in 'us.' But he doesn't. Unless he asks me to
stay, I'll know the doubt that I wanted the partnership more than
him will always be there. Do you understand?"

Her father's eyes held regrets and sadness.
"I've botched it again. If I hadn't said anything about the
will--"

"It's not your fault. Mitch has to risk
following his heart. If he can't do that, we can't be
together."

"You've become a very wise woman." There was
pride in Ray's voice.

"Wisdom doesn't make the hurt go away."

"Time will lessen it."

They'd both come to that insight the hard
way. "Do you love Nora?"

"How would you feel if I did? She's nothing
like your mother." There was a note of concern in his voice.

"Mitch is nothing like Doug." The analogy
came easily.

"That's the way it happens, I guess. Nora is
sturdy, homey, a woman I can count on."

"You couldn't count on Mom?"

Her dad's smile was bittersweet. "Your mother
was like a beautiful butterfly. She never claimed to be a homebody
and I didn't demand it of her. I knew she loved me, but she was
here, there, everywhere. I think I needed more than that then. I
know I need more than that now. It might be selfish, but I want a
woman who's devoted to me, not to life in general."

Laura understood because Doug had been like
her mother in a way. And she knew what her father meant about
devotion. If Mitch could ever make the commitment, he'd be devoted
for a lifetime.

She sighed. Quit thinking about it.
Apparently Mitch could turn off his feelings much easier than she
could. And if he could turn them off, he didn't love her.

She hadn't answered her dad's question. "I
like Nora, Dad. She's a good woman. And if you can make each other
happy, go for it."

He kicked at a stone lying in the grass. "I
don't know what will happen. Now that I can drive, maybe I should
ask her for a...date."

He looked unsure and said the word as if it
fit uncomfortably on his tongue.

Laura suppressed a grin. "That would be a
good start. Flowers might be nice too."

A smile tugged at his mouth. "Can I call you
for advice?"

"Any time. I love you, Dad."

"I love you, honey." He cleared his throat.
"Do you want me to talk to Mitch? Maybe I can--"

"No. Any decision he makes, he has to make on
his own. But thanks for asking."

She'd lost Mitch, but she'd regained her
relationship with her father. She'd have to remember that on the
flight home.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

He'd wanted more from her than he'd ever
wanted from anybody.

Mitch sat in his car and stared at the dingy
street with sightless eyes. He'd wanted Laura's joy. He'd wanted
her excitement. She'd stirred both in him until he'd known both
were possible and good. But he'd also wanted Laura's trust when he
couldn't give his. He'd wanted her allegiance without offering
commitment. He'd wanted her love before he risked pledging his.
Before he'd even realized the extent of his.

Saying goodbye to Mandy had wrung out his
heart. Saying goodbye to Laura had made him numb. For a few hours.
Then he'd hurt like hell and for self preservation's sake, he'd
started thinking. The thinking had led him here to his roots.

The late afternoon light shimmered from the
dented garbage cans sitting at the curb to the rusting wrought iron
railings leading down chipped concrete steps. The wooden front door
was marred with scrapes and scratches. The transom above the door
looked as if more than one pellet had shattered it.

He sat in his car and peered out the window,
in his imagination seeing a scene from twenty years before, seeing
his father sitting on the porch, beer can in hand. The wind blew a
paper cup across the porch. Mitch had escaped from this. So had
Carey. But they'd chosen different routes out.

Whether Mitch admitted it or not, the past
had always been there, creating discontent. No, he wouldn't become
the bastard his father had been, but could he care for a woman and
love her for a lifetime? Could he treat her right? Never treat her
as his father had treated his mother? The fear that he couldn't,
the fear that his father's genes ran stronger in him than he wanted
to believe, had been lurking deep inside him since he was a child.
It was time to confront that fear. He now realized his father had
never loved his mother. He'd used her. If he'd loved her, that love
would have changed him.

The poor neighborhood, the drug dealers on
the corner, their alcoholic father, had been the basis of the life
Mitch wanted to forget. He'd gotten out. He'd gotten his mother out
as soon as he could, the only way he knew how--schooling, hard
work, perseverance. He'd escaped from it but he hadn't run away.
Carey had run...hard...and couldn't keep from looking back.

Mitch crossed his arms over the steering
wheel. Was he ashamed of Carey? Had that always been the wedge
between them? Mitch needed to forget the past. Carey kept bringing
it back. Mitch had never been part of the neighborhood gang, so
temptations for pranks and wrongdoing weren't as handy, weren't as
necessary. Carey had looked to his friends gang to give him
identity. But he hadn't found it there. Instead he'd turned to
gambling.

For the first time in Mitch's life, he was
proud of his brother and admired him for the strength to not bet,
the strength to change his life. He had to tell him that. He had to
tell him more. As soon as possible. He'd waited too long
already.

Mitch took out his cell phone. Carey answered
on the second ring.

He was obviously surprised to hear Mitch's
voice. "Did I leave something in Ma's apartment? She can send it if
I did."

"No. It's not that. What are you doing for
Christmas?"

The silence lasted at least a minute. "I'll
probably spend it with friends."

"Wouldn't you rather spend it with your
family?"

"I must be hearing things. That sounded
strangely like an invitation."

Mitch detected nerves beneath Carey's
habitual flippancy. "It is. Mom and I would like you to spend
Christmas with us."

"Why? I mean I know Mom wants me there, but
why do you care?"

"Because you're my brother and...I love you."
Mitch rushed on. "Changing your life takes a great deal of energy
and effort. If I can help you with that, I want to."

Mitch could hear Carey breathing. When he
spoke, there were catches in his question. "You really want me
there with you and Mom?"

"I really do. I know it's a long
drive..."

"I've made long drives before. I'll be there
Christmas Eve." He paused. "Mitch...thanks."

Mitch's throat tightened. "No thanks
necessary. I'll see you soon."

Mitch smiled as he put down the receiver,
peace and a genuinely good feeling buoying him up. For a few
moments. Until he thought about Laura. His "I love you" to Carey
had sounded rusty but it hadn't been as difficult to say as he'd
thought it would be. But with Laura...

He'd hurt her deeply. The light had gone out
of her eyes when he'd told her to stay out of his life. How could
he have said that to her? Yes, he'd felt betrayed. But what she'd
done for Carey had shone her depth of loyalty, her dedication to a
promise. And because of that dedication, Carey had done what was
best for a new life.

Then there was his mother. How long would she
have kept her secret if it hadn't been for Laura's perceptiveness?
Yes, he'd wondered if Laura had known about that too and had kept
him in the dark. But that didn't matter either. He should have
known. He should have been perceptive. He should have seen it.

His mother had explained to him last night
all the tricks she'd used, the coping skills. When they went to a
restaurant, she asked for the special or ordered whatever Mitch
did. She could remember directions to anywhere in the city--one
block up, two blocks over. If she'd been there once, she could get
there again even though she couldn't read the street signs. By
saying she needed glasses, she could get anyone to read her
necessary information. He should have seen it, yet he hadn't been
looking.

But Laura...

Mitch switched on the ignition and took a
long last look at the old neighborhood. It no longer repulsed him
but showed him how far he'd come.

He needed to clear his head.

He drove for a while...around the old
neighborhood, around a few developments, on the interstate.
Darkness fell and the sky was jet black when he returned to Ray's.
No one was downstairs and he wondered if his dad and Nora had gone
out.

Letting himself out the glass doors off the
dining room to the patio, he let the cold air whip around him as he
gazed up at the moon.

Laura's lack of trust had hurt. He'd latched
onto the feeling of betrayal because he'd been afraid--afraid of
his deepening feelings for her, afraid she didn't feel as deeply
about him. After she'd left, he'd realized he wanted to spend his
life with her. It was more than want. It was an excruciating need.
Without her, life seemed dull, lacking, meaningless. She'd taught
him how to love, but just as important, she'd taught him how to
live.

He loved her. He wanted to marry her. He
wanted to spend forever with her. At the admission he felt reborn,
as if he was standing in the center of the sun. Love, energy,
elation burned through him giving him the courage to risk safety
and reach for happiness.

How would she react if he showed up in
Independence ready to bring her back to York for Christmas? How
would she react if he told her he loved her and wanted to marry
her? The elation dimmed and his stomach clenched. Maybe she didn't
want to get married again. Maybe once was enough. Living one day at
a time was her specialty. Could he do that with her without
marriage?

He might as well stop fooling himself. He'd
take her however he could get her. Even the store didn't seem
important. He hadn't talked to Ray yet, but if he wanted to retire,
Mitch could sell out and start over in Independence or Cleveland or
wherever Laura wanted to locate.

He was thinking as if her spending her life
with him was a foregone conclusion. In his mind's eye, he could see
the ring he'd designed. All he had to do was set the stones. From
the outset he should've realized he was designing it for Laura. He
should've realized a lot of things.

The moon drew his attention again and he
stared at it as if it held the secrets of the universe. Laura
insisted wishing on it worked. Okay. He had nothing to lose.

"I wish for Laura and the chance to love her
and Mandy for the rest of their lives." He spoke out loud and he
didn't care if the whole world heard him. He said it again louder
and hoped beyond hope that wishing on the moon was as magical as
Laura believed it was.

***

Two days later, Mitch stood on Laura's porch.
He felt more nervous than he'd ever been. So this was risk taking.
He couldn't say he liked the feeling. If he was any more tense, his
muscles would snap when he walked.

Jabbing the doorbell, he waited. At least
there were lights blazing inside so someone was home. The porch
lamp went on and the door opened.

George stood there, glaring at Mitch as if he
was an intruder. "What are you doing here?"

Mitch stood his ground. "I came to talk to
Laura. Can I come in?"

"Are you going to upset her? Never mind. She
couldn't be much more upset than she is now."

Mitch entered the living room behind George,
his heartbeat heavy in his chest, and met chaos. The furniture
zigzagged every which way. An evergreen, bare except for strings of
lights dangling from the branches, stood in the tree stand in the
corner. Its fresh pine scent flavored the air. The floor was
littered with cartons of decorations and tinsel garlands.

Mandy spotted him first and came running.
"Mitch! You came for a visit. Can you help decorate our tree?"

Mitch stooped, caught her in his arms, and
swung her into the air. "I don't know how long I'll be staying. I
have to talk to your mom first. Okay?"

She threw her arms around his neck. "I missed
you."

Squeezing her, he assured her, "I missed you
too," then he turned his attention to the woman he'd come to
see.

Laura's red sweatshirt stopped mid thigh. The
elves dancing across it proclaimed a holiday mood. The black
leggings displayed curving calves he knew well.

Her hair was tied back with a red ribbon, but
her face didn't reflect the same Christmas spirit her outfit did.
She looked tired. Her eyes manifested shock that he was standing in
her living room. He'd never seen Laura at a loss for words, but she
couldn't seem to find any now.

He hoped he could find enough for both of
them and convince her he knew what love was because of her. It was
more than the earth tilting whenever they touched. It was more than
the honest sharing that bared their souls. It was more than risking
today to find something better for tomorrow. It was two people
joyously in sync, living life the best way they knew how, eager to
share their thoughts as well as their bodies. How could he ever get
all that out?