On a Night Like This (19 page)

“Maybe.”

“Maybe her mother should get back in bed with the guy.”

“Maybe.”

Blair rolled over and on top of Luke. She leaned over and kissed him, a long, slow kiss.

“Now that’s a good way to wake up in the morning,” Luke said when she pulled away.

She lay down on top of him, letting her body settle onto his.

“I love the feel of your body,” she said.

“Good,” he told her. “Because I’m crazy about yours.”

“Can we make love again?” Blair asked.

“You mean, before you kiss me good-bye and leave me forever?”

“Something like that.”

This time their lovemaking was slow, careful, and in the light of early morning, they could look at each other, watch each other’s expressions, hold each other’s gaze.

“Luke Bellingham,” Blair sighed when they were done, when they lay side by side in each other’s arms.

“We should have started this in high school,” Luke said. “We should have spent a lifetime already in each other’s arms.”

“No,” Blair said. “We spent a lifetime getting ready for each other. Now we earned this.”

Luke leaned up on one arm so he could look down at her.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he said.

“I have to,” she told him. “I have a daughter and a job.” She ran her finger along the side of his face. “But you could come with me.”

She smiled, and he leaned over to kiss her again.

“Sweetpea too?”

“Of course.”

“Back to the city?”

“Unless you want to kiss good-bye?”

“Not a chance.”

Luke dove down, covering her with kisses.

“No more!” Blair urged, pushing him away. “I need food. Lots of food!”

“I’ll make breakfast,” Luke told her. “Then we’ll take a walk with Sweetpea. Let me show you my mountain.”

“I’d love that,” Blair said. “I hate to take you away from your mountain.”

“I want to be with you,” Luke told her.

Luke made pancakes, which Blair admitted were the best she ever tasted, though she suggested that her judgment might be impaired. After breakfast they set out on a trail that passed behind the cabin. Sweetpea bounded ahead of them, deliriously happy to be back in the woods. The day was bright and cold—Blair borrowed one of Luke’s sweaters, which hung down to her knees. She wore Amanda’s purple hat, pulled down low on her head.

“This is beautiful,” Blair told Luke only minutes after setting out. She took the lead, setting the pace as Luke followed. She felt tired, her legs achy. Too much sex? Or the damn disease, wearing her out.
I’ll push through it,
she decided.

The forest was lush and thick, sweet-smelling from the pine trees, with a soft base along the trail. Sweetpea ran ahead and back again, as if urging her on.

“Sweetpea won’t want to leave this place,” she said.

“Sweetpea wants to be with you. Wherever you are.”

“You’re projecting.”

“No. She had it all figured out way before I even had a clue.”

“She’s a smart dog,” Blair said.

“Can you come back here and walk at my side?” Luke complained. “I need to touch you.”

“If you touch me, I’ll drag you back to bed,” Blair tossed back at him. “Right now, I need to hike.”

They hiked for a half hour, Blair willing herself forward with every step. At one point the trail ran along the ridge of the Santa Cruz Mountains, and they could see the Pacific curling toward the base of the mountains on one side, the suburban sprawl of Silicon Valley on the other side.

“This is heaven,” Blair said, spreading her arms to the sky.

Luke came up behind her and put his arms around her, pressed his mouth onto her head. She turned around in his arms and kissed him.

“I may hate you soon,” she said.

“Why?” He looked pained.

“Because I love this.”

“Good,” Luke said, looking confused.

“No,” Blair said. “It’s lousy. I don’t feel well,” she admitted. “I wish I could hike for hours with you.” And she turned around, kept walking.

“Maybe it will go into remission,” he called ahead. “Maybe we can find something—”

She stopped in her tracks and swung around. “
We
are not sick,” she said, her voice dark and low. “
I
am sick. And I am not going to start fighting this, when there’s no way to fight it. Remember that. I had just about figured out this dying thing and then I spend a couple of hours in bed with you and screw it all up.”

Luke reached for her, but she pulled away.

“I changed my mind,” she said. “I’m not bringing you back with me.”

“Please, Blair—”

“Let’s head back. I’m exhausted,” she said, and suddenly she was walking past him, back in the direction they had come from.

“Let’s talk about it, Blair. Please.”

She shook her head and kept walking. She could hear him behind her and then he stopped. She walked for a moment, then turned back toward him.

“We don’t have to talk about the rest of our lives,” he said, and she saw the pain in his eyes. “We can talk about now. We can talk about tonight. We can turn this into a one-night stand. Night after night.”

She smiled at him, swiping at the tears on her cheek.

He took a step toward her and she nodded. He fell into her arms and they held each other.

“OK,” she said finally. “You can come back with me tonight. We’ll have a go at it, then kiss and say good-bye in the morning.”

Blair was getting dressed for work when she heard Amanda walking up the stairs of the cottage, heard the front door open. She had left Luke sitting in the dining room, working on his laptop. Her bedroom door was open—she could hear their conversation.

“So, you’re here,” Amanda stated, her voice sour.

“I’m here.”

“Your wife give you a couple of days off for good behavior?”

Luke didn’t answer right away. Blair could hear Amanda whispering to Sweetpea. She didn’t want to walk out and interfere, make her daughter act like a civilized human being, make Luke find the right answers. Let them work it out between them. Or not. Blair pulled on her chef’s jacket, worked the buttons slowly. Her hands felt thick and unsteady. She was bone tired now, even before a night at work.

“I left my wife,” Luke finally said.

“You living here now?”

“No. I’m here for the night. Don’t know about tomorrow.”

Blair smiled. Smart man.

“Where’s my mom?”

“Getting ready for work. I thought maybe you and I would make dinner here.”

“And why would I want to do that?”

“Keep me company.”

“I thought you just needed me for your dog.”

“Right. Well, it was an idea.”

“OK.”

“Yeah?”

“I gotta eat, right?”

Blair figured it was safe to come out.

She walked into the dining room, saw Luke close the laptop quickly.

“You can work,” she said.

“Amanda’s home,” he told her. “We’re going to make dinner.”

Blair kissed him and whispered, “You’ve always been able to charm the young girls.”

“Except you.”

“Took longer,” Blair said. “I’m a challenge.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Let me go say hello to my daughter.”

“She’s in her room.”

Blair knocked on Amanda’s door.

“I’m busy,” Amanda called out.

“It’s me!” Blair yelled. Music was blasting from within.

“Come in!”

Blair looked back at Luke, who raised his eyebrows. “I better keep working on the charm,” he said.

Blair walked into Amanda’s room, shut the door behind her. Amanda was sprawled on her bed.

“You don’t look very busy.”

“He bugs me.”

“Why? Can we turn down the music?” Aerosmith wailed—Blair liked the fact that her own music had lasted into the next generation, made it seem like the whole rebellion hadn’t disappeared with peasant blouses. Well, then again, peasant blouses were back, too.

Amanda reached out and turned down the volume on her CD player. Her room was painted dark blue—walls, ceiling, floor—with light blue paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Blair always felt peaceful in this room, as if she were tucked in some kind of cocoon. She sat on the edge of Amanda’s bed and reached out, put her hand around her daughter’s ankle.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“I didn’t trust him before. Now I really don’t trust him.” Amanda spoke with her face to the wall. She kicked Blair’s hand away.

“I thought you guys had become friends.”

“I was the dog walker.”

“But you liked him.”

“I didn’t ask him to move in. You did.”

“He didn’t move in. He’s just here. For a while. I don’t know.”

“Yeah, well, I live here, too. In case you didn’t notice.”

“I know that, sweetheart.”

“Maybe I’ll invite some guy to move in.”

Blair flopped back on the bed. She gazed up at the ceiling. “I don’t know what to tell you,” Blair said.

They were quiet for a while.

“I wish you weren’t sick,” Amanda said finally.

Blair reached out her hand and found the top of Amanda’s head. She stroked her daughter’s hair—this time Amanda didn’t push her away.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been in love,” Blair said.

“Not with my father?”

“No. I was too young then. Not that you can’t fall in love when you’re young. You’ll do that. But I was too unformed, too immature. I loved him for a couple of weeks, enough to create you, but then he moved on or I moved on. . . . It doesn’t even matter.”

“Did he know about me?”

“No. I never saw him again. There were a lot of guys like that back then. We were sort of reckless in those days.”

“How come you never fell in love?”

“I don’t know. I got busy with my job and raising you. I stayed away from guys. I wanted a real life with you, and I thought they’d get in the way.”

Amanda made a noise, and Blair rolled over to look at her. Her daughter was crying. Blair scooted up on the bed and put her arms around her.

“So why now?” Amanda asked quietly.

“Maybe it’s not love,” Blair said. “Maybe it’s fear.”

Amanda held her mother tightly.

“Or maybe I’m just looking for one last good time.”

Blair smiled at her daughter and stroked her cheeks, wiping away the tears.

“Let me find out, OK?” she asked.

Amanda nodded. Blair leaned over and kissed her daughter’s forehead.

“I still don’t trust him,” Amanda said.

“You will,” Blair said.

The doorbell rang, and Sweetpea started barking.

“No one rings the doorbell,” Amanda said, jumping off the bed, swiping at her eyes and looking in the mirror.

“I’ll get it. You go wash your face,” Blair said.

Blair left her daughter’s room. Luke was already at the door, had opened it and was talking to a woman who stood in the doorway. Blair walked to his side.

The woman was glamorous, clearly someone from another part of town. She was perfectly coiffed and even more perfectly dressed in some kind of cream-colored pantsuit. Blair thought pantsuits were only worn by businesswomen. This was not a businesswoman. And she was pregnant.

“Blair, this is Dana, my sister-in-law,” Luke said.

Blair stuck out her hand. Dana looked at her, confused. Finally she shook her hand once, dropping it quickly.

“Is this the dog walker?” Dana asked, peering at Blair. “I thought the dog walker was a kid.”

“Dog walker’s mom,” Blair explained.

“Girlfriend?” Dana asked, turning to Luke.

“One-night stand,” Blair boasted.

“You left my sister for her?”

“No. Your sister left me,” Luke said. “Remember? During that time, somehow, I met Blair. Or remet Blair—we went to high school together.”

“Want to come in?” Blair offered.

“No,” Dana said. “I want to talk to Luke.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Luke said, blocking the doorway.

“I need to tell you something about my sister,” Dana said.

Blair turned to leave, but Luke reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her back. “You don’t have to disappear,” he said.

Blair looked at him, surprised. “Really?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he told her.

Blair beamed at him. She had already been steeling herself for the exit: “Sorry, sweetheart, the wife wants me back. Gotta run. It’s been grand.” Blair took a deep breath and squeezed Luke’s hand.

“Then invite the lady in,” Blair said.

Luke gestured with a grand sweep of his arm.

Dana looked past them into the living room of the cottage, taking it all in.

“This is very hip, very bohemian,” she said. “You never did like my life, did you?”

“I liked your life, Dana,” Luke said wearily.

Blair took in a deep breath.

“My sister loves you,” Dana said.

“Did she send you here to bring me back?” Luke asked.

“No,” Dana said. “I’m here on my own.”

“Why?”

“Because I think you’re good for my sister.”

“Good for her? What does that mean?”

“She was lost in your shadow, Luke. It wasn’t your fault—it’s hers. She never felt that she had much to offer except her beauty. But now, she’ll have a baby. That will give her something real.”

“Gray Healy’s baby.”

“Who the hell cares whose baby it is,” Dana said.

“This is amazing!” Blair said. “You didn’t tell me any of this!”

“She’s very sweet, your little girlfriend,” Dana told Luke.

“No one has ever called me sweet,” Blair said. “Little, I admit, I’ve heard once or twice. But never sweet.”

“Dana,” Luke said, his voice calm. “Emily will be fine without me. I’m not going back.”

“You owe her an explanation. She doesn’t even know about the girlfriend.”

“I don’t owe her anything. How the hell did you find me?”

“The dog walker. Emily had the phone number. I did a little sleuthing.”

On cue, the dog walker left her room and came to the door to join them.

“This is Amanda,” Blair said, pulling her daughter close. “Amanda, this is the wife’s sister. She wants Luke to go home now.”

“Is he going?” Amanda asked, sounding hopeful.

“No,” Luke said. “Good-bye, Dana.”

Dana turned and walked down the stairs. They all watched her go. Finally Luke closed the door and leaned back against it.