Minor Adjustments (14 page)

Stella slapped her steering wheel repeatedly, hoping the pain in her hand would somehow lesson the pain in her heart. Yes, Devon cared about her, but not enough. Not enough to want to find a way to make it work.

By the time she pulled up to the Pierce’s house, it was late, but Stella was too worked up to sleep. Not knowing what else to do, she perused the bookshelves in the family room, looking for a distraction. She pulled a book free and dropped down on the couch, flipping pages but not focusing on anything.

“What are you reading?” Lydia’s voice startled Stella into dropping the book. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Oh no, it’s okay. I scare easily.” Stella picked up the book and turned the spine toward Lydia. “
To Kill a Mockingbird
. I hope you don’t mind that I helped myself.”

“Of course not. Have you read it before?”

Stella fingers slid across the cover in an almost reverent way. “My mum read it to me once when I was younger. It’s such a sad story, really, but I loved Atticus. I thought he was so brave and kind. This book actually piqued my interest in law—in defending those who can’t defend themselves. It was one of the reasons I chose to become a solicitor.”

Lydia sat down on the sofa’s armrest. “Isn’t it funny how two people can read the same book and come away feeling completely different about it? Personally, it was too depressing for me, but it’s always been a favorite of Jack’s. While we were dating, he made me read it, and I told him I loved it because I wanted to impress him. Big mistake.”

“Why?”

“After that, he considered it ‘our book.’ Some couples have a special song, but in his mind, we had a book. We had to read it every year around the time of our anniversary. And every year, I dreaded it. A few years later, when I was in labor with Devon, Jack brought that book to the hospital. We had decided on a natural childbirth, and I was in so much pain. The last thing I wanted to hear was that dreadful book. So I finally confessed I hated it.”

“What did he say?”

A small smile played across her lips. “He said he needed to think. Then he excused himself and left the room. I thought I’d really hurt his feelings, but mostly I was mad that he’d left.”

“He really walked out while you were in labor?”

Lydia nodded, her eyes twinkling. “About ten minutes later he came back and told me he’d decided to forgive me. He even brought a peace offering.”

“Flowers?”

“No. The anesthesiologist. Jack said that if I’d lied about
To Kill a Mockingbird
, I’d probably lied about wanting to have a natural childbirth. The funny thing is, he was right, bless his heart. I’d wanted that pain medication from the moment we arrived at the hospital. I was just too embarrassed to admit it—too worried he’d think he married a wimp.”

Lydia gestured toward the book. “Admitting I hated that story was the best thing that ever happened to me and our marriage. From that day on, I stopped trying to be the perfect woman and learned to just be me. I was so much happier after that. Even though I didn’t appreciate that book and I’ll never read it again, it will always be one of my favorites,” she said. “Maybe it really is ‘our book.’ ”

Stella’s quiet laughter filled the silence in the room. Lydia was wonderful. Jack too. How lucky Devon and Ryan were to have them in their lives.

That was it, wasn’t it? The reason Devon wasn’t willing to relocate. It wasn’t about Devon not wanting to move to Australia. It was about Ryan. Lindsay had wanted Ryan to be an integral part of an extended family—to be raised with cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents.

And now Ryan had that. He even had a dog who loved him.

“I’m so glad you came for a visit,” Lydia said. “It’s been wonderful getting to know you, and I want to thank you for all that you’ve done for Ryan and my son. They wouldn’t be here without you.”

“It was Lindsay’s doing, not mine. She loved your family, and I can see why she chose you.”

“Chose Devon, you mean.”

“He was part of it, I’m sure,” Stella said. “But I like to think Lindsay saw the bigger picture. Somehow she knew that by choosing Devon, she was choosing your entire family. And I know I couldn’t have found a better fit for Ryan in all of Australia. He belongs with Devon—and with you.”

Unshed tears glistened in Lydia’s eyes, and she placed her hand over Stella’s. “Thank you, dear girl. For everything.” With a gentle squeeze, Lydia left.

Stella fingered
To Kill a Mockingbird
once more with a sad smile. Somehow the book meant even more to her now.

Sunday morning brought with it an overcast sky and an awkwardness that lasted much of the day, at least whenever Devon was near. As much as Stella had hated the thought of leaving, she now wished for an earlier flight. Normally, she was the type of person to confront problems head-on, but there was something about Devon that made her want to run—just like she’d done last night.

So run she would, just as soon as she could. In the meantime, Stella would stay busy in the kitchen until Devon’s siblings arrived, then keep up a happy pretense through dinner. She could do it.

Devon walked into the kitchen. “Mom, why are you putting candles on the cake? Is it someone’s birthday?”

“Ryan’s,” Lydia said.

“No, Ryan’s birthday isn’t for another month, which you already know,” Devon said. “Are you going senile on me already?”

“She’s doing it for me,” Stella said. “I mentioned I’d be sad to miss Ryan’s birthday, and the next thing I knew your mom had whipped up a cake. If I’d known she’d go to all that trouble, I would have kept quiet.”

Lydia patted Stella’s hand. “Never you mind, my dear. The idea was inspired. And Ryan will be thrilled to have a happy un-birthday party.” Lydia pointed to a sack on the table. “Devon, there’s some balloons and crepe paper in that bag, so feel free to make yourself useful.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Devon smiled. “What about the presents, Mom? Don’t you need presents for birthday parties?”

“When the other grandkids get here, I’ll have them each make Ryan a card. Presents from the heart are the best gifts of all, don’t you think?”

“I do.” Devon pulled a balloon from the bag and blew into it just as Ryan appeared. Letting it slip through his fingers, Devon smiled as Ryan chased it around the room.

“Do that again!” Ryan jumped up and down.

When Cora’s family showed up an hour later, there were still no inflated balloons because Ryan had wanted to fly or pop all of them. Stella did manage to hang some crepe paper, though, so the room looked somewhat festive.

“You must be Stella,” Cora said, hugging her. “I’ve heard so much about you. I feel as if I already know you.”

“I could say the same about you,” Stella said. “Ryan is always talking about his aunts and cousins.”

“What about his uncles?” Jeff said. “What are we, chopped liver?”

Stella laughed. “ ‘Chopped liver’? Really? Where do you Americans come up with such sayings?”

“From what I understand, you Aussies say some pretty nutty things too,” Jeff said.

“Such as?”

“Spit the dummy, for one,” Devon said.

Stella smiled at the memory. “All right, you win.”

“Guess what? It’s my un-birthday party!” Ryan shouted when he saw his cousins.

“No fair! I want an un-birthday party!” one of the cousins whined.

“Okay, it can be your un-birthday party too,” Ryan said.

“What about me?” another asked.

“It’s everyone’s un-birthday party!” Ryan declared. “Let’s go jump on the tramp!” The kids followed him out the back door.

“Hear that, Mom?” Devon said. “It’s everyone’s un-birthday party. Where’s my cake and presents?”

“And mine?” Jeff added.

“Don’t forget me,” Cora said.

Lydia’s gaze rested on Stella. “What about you? Any demands?”

Stella waved the question aside. “I’m just happy to be here.”

“Suck-up,” said Devon.

Emily soon arrived with her family, and the un-birthday party began. Devon’s siblings drew Stella out, making her laugh and feel almost normal again. By the time dinner ended, she stopped wanting to leave and started hoping the flight would be delayed.

If only.

While Stella rinsed the dishes, the clock above the kitchen sink taunted her. Tick, tock, tick, tock. Enough! Stella had almost decided to toss it in the dishwasher when someone grasped her elbow and dragged her away from the sink.

“Devon, what are you doing? I’m not finished.”

“Forget the dishes.” Amused glances looked their way as Devon pulled her through the kitchen and out to the front porch. Rain drizzled down, and Stella folded her arms to stave off the September evening chill. She wanted to run back inside. Couldn’t Devon see that she didn’t want to talk?

“About last night—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Stella said.

“Well, I do. And I can’t let you leave like this. Not until I’ve had a chance to apologize.”

Apologize? He wanted to apologize? For what? “Are you sorry you kissed me?”

“To be honest . . . yes.”

Was he serious? Stella turned away and glared at the dark shapes of the trees. “Honestly, Devon, what a way to say good-bye. I know you don’t like to lie, but in the future, promise me that if a girl ever asks you that question, you will.”

“You obviously took that the wrong way, which you wouldn’t have if you’d have let me finish.”

“Pardon?” She twisted back. “I don’t remember interrupting you. You said yes and stopped talking. What was I supposed to think?”

“Nothing. That’s my point. You jumped all over me before I could figure out how to explain.”

“I’m not a mind reader, you know.”

“I’ll try to remember that.”

Silence.

Fingers drummed against the railing as Stella waited. And waited. “Are you still thinking, or is the conversation over?”
Please say it’s over.

“If I had duct tape, I’d tape your mouth shut right now.”

Fine. If he wanted her to wait, Stella would wait. Thirty more minutes and she’d have to leave anyway.

Devon took a step toward her. “Stella, I wanted to kiss you, which is why I did. I’ll admit, it was selfish, but since the day I met you, I haven’t been able to get you off my mind. I’d hoped if I let myself kiss you just once, I’d finally be able to move on and eventually think about another girl for a change. But it backfired. Now all I want to do is kiss you again and somehow keep you from getting on that lousy plane tonight.”

No longer feeling the cold, Stella leaned against the porch railing, holding on for support. “Devon, I—”

“I’m not finished. Please, let me get this out.” He paced to the end of the porch and back. “As much as I would love to follow you back to Sydney, I can’t do that to Ryan again. For the past several months, he’s finally had stability. He’s happy—he has grandparents, cousins, Aussie . . .” Devon’s fingers raked through his hair, leaving it adorably disheveled.

“Don’t forget a father.” Stella pushed away from the railing and rested her hands on his arms. “I know all of that already, Devon, and I don’t expect you to follow me.”

His fingers brushed her cheek. “This is killing me,” he whispered. “But I don’t know what else to do. I wouldn’t be happy seeing you only a few times a year—it’s not enough for me. But I don’t feel good about taking Ryan back and forth with me either, nor am I okay with leaving him with my parents while I go.”

Stella hated the finality in his words. Her stomach churned at the thought of never seeing him again. “What if I were to fly out here a couple times a year?”

“I’ve thought about that, and it might work for a while, but where would it lead? Your life and job are in Australia. It’s not as though you can pick up and move here. You’d have to go through law school all over again, and I’m not going to let you do that. And Ryan should be here, with his family. Buying that house felt right to me, and we both know it’s what Lindsay would have wanted. Ever since I sold my company and moved back, everything has fallen into place—everything except you.”

Except me.
Stella tried to blink away the tears, but a few escaped and wound a path down her cheek. Devon brushed them away with his thumb.

“I’m not sure I can do this,” Stella said. “This isn’t like saying good-bye to a close friend. It’s like saying good-bye to part of me.”

“I know.”

Stella pulled away, wishing for inspiration—any solution that wouldn’t involve her heart breaking. The blinking lights of an airplane pulsated slowly across the sky. Soon Stella would be on one, flying away from the people she loved the most.

“So what now?” she asked quietly.

Devon cleared his throat. “Lindsay wanted you to always be a part of Ryan’s life, and so do I, so I’d like you to stay in touch with him. But maybe it would be better to have him call you once a week, instead of almost every day.”

No, no, no!
But she knew he was right. “Okay.”

Devon took a tentative step toward her. When he took another step, Stella practically flung herself into his arms, soaking up his warmth and wishing it didn’t have to be this way.

His lips found hers, and she kissed him hard, placing all of her good-byes into one last kiss.

⇐ ⇑ ⇒

By the time Emily and Cora had ushered their children into their respective minivans, Ryan had fallen asleep. Devon carried him to one of the bedrooms and laid him on the bed, kissing him softly on his forehead. Thankfully his parents had already gone to bed, leaving him alone with his misery.

Stella was gone. She’d kissed him one last time, hugged Ryan and his family good-bye, and then walked out the door. Devon had stood on the front porch as the car drove away, calling on every ounce of willpower not to run after her.

“You let her go. I can see it in your eyes.” His mother found him in the family room and sank down next to him on the sofa.

“I didn’t have much of a choice. She had to get back.”

“Oh, I know. I wasn’t referring to tonight. I was talking about permanently. You let her go.”

“You already said that.” As much as Devon loved his mother, he wished she’d leave him alone. He wasn’t in the mood.

“Why?”

“Why did I let her go?” Devon asked. Was she serious? “What did you want me to do? Chase after her? Move to Australia and marry her? Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“If it would make you happy—yes,” Lydia said. “Any idiot can see you’re in love with her and that she’s in love with you. I don’t see a problem here.”

“What about Ryan?”

Lydia’s expression fell a little. “As sad as we’d be to see him go, your father and I would rather see you and Stella happy. If that happiness happens to be on the other side of the world, then so be it. We’ll find a way to see you as often as we can.”

If only Devon could believe that was the answer, the right thing to do. But he didn’t. “I can’t, Mom. I don’t know how to explain it, but Ryan belongs here—with our family. With everyone. Living here feels right to me.”

Lydia lifted his chin, forcing Devon to look her in the eye. “I’m only going to butt in this one time, so listen closely.” Her words came out slow and strong. “A mother is far more important in a child’s life than grandparents, aunts, uncles, or cousins could ever be. Don’t you ever forget that.”