Mountain Song (21 page)

Andy patted his
pocket, feeling the reassuring shape of the watch. It was a good one, perhaps
the last beautiful thing his mother bought in her life. She had given up
everything to be with his father: a wealthy East coast family, her friends, the
beautiful home she’d grown up in—all of it left behind when she came west
with her husband to pursue a dream that, year after year, dimmed until it was
nothing but a distant memory.

Yet with all her
disappointments, Andy remembered her as happy, surrounded by the mountains she
loved.

Once she was gone,
Andy’s father worked all the harder, as if the hours of toil could somehow make
him forget her absence. When he died, Henry Woods had few dreams left. Just
one, in fact.

“I did what you
wanted, Pop,” Andy said softly, setting the flask gently down on the coffee
table. “I’m a successful man.”

The words tasted
bitter on his lips. Success. No one could argue that he’d achieved it. Dozens
of people would attest to that, every supervisor he’d ever had, every
professor, every intern he’d directed. But after all this time, surpassing
everyone else’s yardsticks, why did Andy still feel as though he would never
measure up?

Damn it, he knew the
reason. Two reasons, actually. Both with golden hair and the softest skin he’d
ever touched.

He seized the flask,
drained it. Nearly coughed as the fiery liquor did its work, then mastered the
impulse.

And still he could not
get Paul and Claudia out of his mind.

Why had he allowed the
boy to follow him out of that room, around the hospital? Why hadn’t he turned
around and left the minute he saw the small hand shoot around his mother’s
skirt, followed by a pair of enormous curious blue eyes?

“I’m an idiot,” Andy
muttered. And yet, no amount of alcohol could keep his mind from identifying
the truth.

He’d wanted to be with
Paul. Alone, just the two of them. To see what he was like. Hear his voice,
marvel at the mannerisms that were eerily familiar, like Claudia’s in
miniature.

And there was more to
it, wasn’t there? The minute Paul had slipped his small hand into Andy’s big
one, something had broken inside him. Some walled-up place was exposed, and
emotions came pouring out that Andy couldn’t even comprehend, much less master.
All he knew was that he wanted to show Paul his work, his hospital. To connect
with him. To
impress
him.

It hadn’t been
difficult. The boy had picked up each object on Andy’s crowded desk. “This one?
And this?” he’d asked as Andy rattled off explanations, barely aware of his own
voice. The boy was smart. Really smart, it was obvious.

Andy had taken him
through the cafeteria for a snack. There were cookies and brownies in a glass
case, too high for Paul to see. He’d held up his arms with a questioning look,
and Andy understood he wanted to be picked up so he could look into the case.

Andy hesitated—but
just for a second.

With the boy in his
arms, Andy felt a sudden warmth seize him, and he realized he was grinning like
a fool. Paul was heavier than he’d expected, and his heart under the T shirt
beat so fast. Paul wrapped his arms firmly around Andy’s neck, then pointed to
a chocolate chip cookie nearly as big as the plate on which it sat.

“That one,” he’d said.
“But don’t worry, I’ll share with you.”

While they sat at a
small table and shared their snack, several of Andy’s colleagues waved and
called greetings, and it seemed to Andy that Paul sat a little straighter,
smiled even wider.

As if he was proud. Proud
to be with Andy.

Claudia laid the
garment bag carefully on top of the suitcases in the trunk of the rental car.

“You got Mooey?” Paul
piped up from the porch, where he was watching her as he drained his chocolate
milk.

“I got Mooey,” Claudia
sighed. The worn stuffed plush cow went everywhere with Paul, and she’d made
sure it was tucked among the clothes in Paul’s small carry-on bag.

“‘Kay,” Paul said,
slurping noisily at the last of the milk.

Claudia envied him, to
be so easily comforted. If only a stuffed toy could ease the pain in her own
heart, calm her own fears about the future.

But she also knew that
Mooey wouldn’t be comfort enough forever. There would be questions for which
there were no answers, needs that she’d never be able to fill alone. As the
anxiety rose inside her again, she steadied herself against the car, pressed
her fist against her temple and took a deep breath.

One step at a time. Finish
packing, drive to the airport, get on the plane. A quick cab ride and they
would be home.

Home
. And yet even the thought of her apartment, with all its comforts, all its
simple treasures, seemed like a cold and lonely prospect right now.

Because Andy wouldn’t
be there.

“Mom?”

“Sugar, I’ve got to
finish up here.”

“But Grandpa said we
weren’t getting on the plane until dinner time.”

“Yes, sweetie, that’s
true.” For once she regretted her father’s honesty. “But there’s so much to do.
We have to put everything into the car—”

“But you already did
that.”

“And drive all the way
through the mountains, and take the car back to the people who we borrowed it
from, and check in at the ticket counter...”

“But it’s only just
now breakfast time!” He lifted his wrist and carefully examined the Mickey
Mouse plastic watch. “The little hand’s on the nine, and the big hand—what’s
this number, Mama?”

Claudia sighed, then
reluctantly joined her son on the small stone porch in front of Bea’s house. “Eleven,
sweetie.”

“The big hand’s on the
‘leven. So it’s not even very close to lunch time yet,” he added stubbornly.

“Mmm hmm,” she said. Unfortunately,
he was right. It was ridiculous to be leaving so early. The drive wasn’t nearly
long enough to warrant a morning departure.

But if she stayed here
any longer she was going to scream. She’d been up at sunrise, scrubbing Bea’s
place spotless. A dozen times she’d passed by the phone, hesitated, moved on.

She should call Andy
and tell him she was leaving. A braver woman would. But somehow she couldn’t
find the courage. Let Bea tell him, or her father. What did it matter now? She
could call him in a few days, when she was back in her routine, when she was
feeling stronger. She’d discuss his child support payments in a cool, professional
voice. She’d thank him for everything he’d done for Bea. She’d be sincere, but
just a little distant...

“You’re making a
mistake,” her father had admonished her when he stopped by on his way to he
hospital an hour earlier, bringing donuts for Paul.

“Maybe,” she’d
allowed, “but it’s
my
mistake to
make, Dad.”

Jack Canfield knew
better than to push it. He’d left after extracting a promise that she’d call to
let him know they arrived home safely.

Now there was nothing
left to do. “Okay, squirt,” she said, folding down the top of Paul’s sippy cup
and tucking it into her bag. “Up and at ‘em.”

Suddenly Paul jumped
up and peered down the road, shielding his eyes against the brilliant morning
sun. Claudia’s heart sank as she recognized Paul’s car pulling behind her own.

“It’s
him
! It’s Dr. Andy!” Andy shouted as he
leapt off the stone porch and tore down the steps.

“Hey, slugger,” Andy
called, laughing, as Paul’s small body collided with his. Claudia fought a lump
in her throat as Andy bent down and with unmistakable tenderness allowed Paul
to loop his arms around his neck for a voracious hug and sloppy kiss.

Get away from him
, she wanted to shout. Unless you can love him,
unless you can love
me
, please, just
leave us alone.

Instead, Andy set the
boy gently on his feet, and then approached her slowly with Paul’s hand in his,
a tentative smile on his face.

And she melted. God
forgive her, she was helpless when Andy smiled. It happened so rarely, lighting
his features, brightening his eyes with something like hope, like faith, taking
away the cynicism and intensity that always seemed to hold him in their grasp. Even
as she fought to look away, to turn and go back inside the house, she felt a
yearning so strong, so familiar, that it felt as though everything else stopped
and all there was in the world was the two of them, Andy coming up the old
gravel path to be with her.

Andy saw Claudia step
back, a look of uncertainty flashing across her face. And suddenly realized how
crazy this was. The giddy force of his late-night, whiskey-spurred decision had
carried him through the hours until dawn, when he’d managed a few hours of
dreamless sleep. When he awoke he felt better, stronger, than he had any right
to feel. The giddiness had been replaced by a clarity and determination that
brought him here as though he were pulled by a powerful magnet.

But then he reached
the worn steps, and suddenly it all fell away.

He
wasn’t
strong. He wasn’t even sure what
he was doing here. It was alcohol that had given him the courage for this
foolish errand, but now Claudia was looking at him with something that looked a
lot like disbelief, wishing that he’d just dissolve into thin air.

He faltered, searched
wildly for some excuse he could mumble before getting the hell out of her way. And
then Paul gripped his hand a little tighter.

And he remembered
exactly why he was here.

He released the boy’s
hand after a firm squeeze, and stepped up, until he was close to her, so close
he caught a faint trace of her perfume on the breeze. So close he could see the
dark smudges beneath her beautiful eyes, smudges he realized with a pang that
he had caused.

“Claudia,” he said
gently, “You’ve given me a gift that no man could ever deserve, much less a man
as...flawed as me. You’ve given me...” Andy hesitated as Paul clambered to his
side, looping his arms around his legs in an awkward hug. He saw Claudia’s hand
fly to her mouth, pain in her eyes.

“Don’t—”

“I would never hurt
him,” he said, his hands instinctively going to Paul’s shoulders, drawing him close
for a split second before something caught the boy’s attention across the yard
and he bolted off.

“You already have,”
she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. But by then Paul was out of
earshot, watching a pair of rabbits at the edge of Bea’s front yard.

“I have.” Andy nodded
his assent. “But I want to make amends. I want—”

“Don’t,” Claudia said
again, more forcefully this time. “We talked about this already. You want to
send checks. Fine. Send them.”

“No. I want to be a
father. A real father.”

As he said the words,
he finally understood how deeply he meant them. He would be the father to Paul
that his own father had been for him. Everything he did from now on would be
more meaningful, because it would be dedicated to this boy he’d come to love in
so short a time.

“But—” Claudia
fought the urge to run after Paul, pull him back and hold him against her. “We
live in New Jersey, Andy. How can you be anything at all to him, from so far
away?”

Andy held her gaze
without blinking. “I want you to move here.”

“
Move
—”

“With me. I want you
to move into my house. Both of you.”

So stunned was she at
his statement that Claudia didn’t notice the color that tinged Andy’s face, the
hands that fought to resist reaching for her.

“Claudia, I want you
to be my wife,” he finally added.

For a long moment
Claudia froze, not even breathing, as his words echoed in her head.

“You want...”

“—to
marry
you, Claudia. If you’ll have me.”

“But—”

“I
love
you. I love you like I did that
first time I saw you, only more. I loved you like crazy then, but I never could
figure out a way to tell you. There never seemed to be words for it. Just—my
heart never stopped pounding when you were around, and all I ever wanted to do
was hold you and touch you. You don’t know how close I came to throwing
everything away just to be with you then.”

He reached for her
hands, held them tentatively in his, searched her eyes. Claudia vaguely
realized her mouth was open, and closed it. He loved her.

He
loved
her.

“But you never wanted
a family. You never wanted to settle down.” She swallowed hard, the protests
her final defense against him, reached for in desperation as she felt herself
about to be carried off by a wave a thousand times more powerful.

“I didn’t know what it
was to have a family,” Andy corrected. “I had no idea I wanted one because I
never imagined that it could be...could be...” His voice trailed off as he
gestured helplessly at Paul, across the yard trying to sneak up on the two
rabbits, who bounded away as he approached.