The Color of Destiny (The Color of Heaven Series Book 2) (17 page)

“Sure,” she replied, “but let’s clear the table first.”

“No, you guys go ahead,” I said to them. “I’ll handle it.”

“I’ll help,” Elizabeth said.

“I’ll help, too,” Gladys added.

Were we all playing matchmaker now? I wondered with an easy feeling of contentment. Sean had been a perfect gentleman all weekend, polite and respectful. We had spent a lot of time together, he and I, and I couldn’t help but approve of him. He was surprisingly intelligent and witty, spoke of his mother with genuine affection, and helped me figure out how to get Netflix on my phone. He handled Gladys with kindness—and humor, when it was called for—which was the icing on the cake as far as I was concerned. Sure, he had a lot to learn about the finer points of east coast cuisine, but if that was the worst of his faults, he was a fine match for my stepdaughter.

We watched them go out onto the deck and disappear down the stairs to the backyard and beach beyond. I sighed heavily, and picked up the thermos of coffee to refill my cup. “Anyone else?”

“I’ll have a bit more,” Elizabeth said, sliding her cup closer.

I poured the coffee, and we each added milk.

For the next few minutes, I filled Elizabeth in about Sean, and how he and Marissa were getting along. Then we all worked to clear the table and wash the dishes.

It was a good day for Gladys. Even when she was unsure about where she was or who we were, she appeared cheerful and comfortable, eager to help tidy up and do chores that were familiar to her.

Elizabeth took her to bed early, then came back upstairs. “She’s out like a light. And she seemed really happy.”

“I’m glad,” I replied, flicking the switch on the baby monitor. “She was good today, don’t you think?”

“She was great. Truly, Ryan, you’re doing a wonderful job here. You’re taking care of everyone so well.”

“I’m not doing it alone,” I reminded her.

She regarded me fondly. “We’re a good team.”

“Yes.” I peered out the dark windows and focused on the lights on the far side of the Bay. “I wonder what the young ones are up to. I should have given them a flashlight.”

“It’s a full moon,” she said. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Feeling relaxed, I opened the sliding glass doors to step onto the deck. Elizabeth followed me, and together we leaned against the rail and gazed out over the moonlit water.

“What a gorgeous night,” she said.

“It’s times like these,” I replied, “that I feel very grateful.”

“For what?”

“A lot of things. It’s strange. Even though my mother-in-law has Alzheimer’s, and I had to bury my wife not long ago, I look out at the water on a night like this, breathe in the salty scent of the air, think of Marissa—
and you
—and I feel in awe of everything. My existence especially, because there was a time when I didn’t care if I lived or died.”

Elizabeth leaned her forearms on the railing and wove her fingers together. “I believe that if you’ve been through hell and you come out the other side, you appreciate the little things more. A night like this definitely qualifies.” She looked up at the stars.

I was spellbound by her profile and the tousled curls of her hair. It had grown out quite a bit since she first arrived, and I could see red highlights.

“I wish I knew more about you,” I said, feeling a strong need to pour out my soul to her, to let her know how I felt. “I want to know what sort of hell
you’ve
been through, Elizabeth. Will you tell me?”

Her eyes met mine and she turned around to look at the house. “I was married once,” she said with a sigh, “but it wasn’t good. My husband had problems. First it was alcohol, then pot, and eventually cocaine and heroin. He was involved with some bad people.”

“Is that why you left him?” I asked.

Was she divorced? I wondered. Or was he abusive and was she on the run from him? Is that why she was so secretive?

“I didn’t leave him,” she told me. “He died.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

She shook her head and faced the water again. “It’s not something I like to talk about. For one thing, it doesn’t help my employment prospects if people know I was married to a drug addict. Yet, here I am, confessing my sordid past to my boss.”

“I’m not only your boss,” I said. “Please don’t think of me just that way.”

“But you sign my paychecks.”

A ship’s bell rang in the distance. I turned toward the water.

“I’m sorry,” she said to me. “That was uncalled for. You’re right. You’re more than my boss. You’re my friend, and I hope I’m yours. I love Gladys like my own mother, and Marissa... she’s like a daughter to me. You’ve all made me feel like a part of this family, Ryan, and I love you for that. It’s been the best year of my life.”

My gaze darted to meet hers, and she blinked a few times. “Oh, that’s not what I meant,” she quickly added. “I didn’t mean to suggest that I love you like
that
. I just... You know what I mean.”

I straightened. “I do.”

Sparks erupted and flew between us like a firestorm of crazy. Before I could think rationally, I pulled her toward me and slid my hand around her waist.

My mouth covered hers in a hungry kiss that pummeled all my senses. I felt the shock of it straight down to my toes.

She responded with an equal dose of passion, parting her lips and cupping my face in her hands. I steered us together, locked in the embrace, toward the shadows at the side of the house, where I backed her up against the cedar shakes and anchored her body.

She moaned with pleasure and gripped my shirt in her fists. Her hands roamed up and down my arms and over my shoulders. My heart drummed wildly. I wanted her with a fierce, unstoppable passion as I pressed my body to hers.

After a long, deep, and immensely pleasurable kiss, I eased back until our mouths were only lightly touching, and whispered, “I’m a very bad boss.”

“No,” she breathlessly replied. “I think you’re very good.”

I cupped her cheek in my hand and kissed her again, less hurried this time, more gently. Her lips were soft and moist. She tasted of coffee and sweet apple pie.

Sexual need streaked down to my core, and I had to work hard to rein in my desires, even while I was celebrating them, for it had been so long since I’d had any interest in touching a woman.

And Elizabeth was not just any woman. I felt a connection to her that went beyond physical. I cared for her deeply and I wanted to keep her here, safe with me, well loved. I wanted to share everything with her, never lose her.

I felt her ribcage expand with a deep intake of breath. Her breasts squeezed against my chest, and it was all I could do to keep from sliding my hand up under her sweater. I wanted to take her straight to bed and make love to her quick and hard, but at the same time, that was
not
what I wanted.

“My head is spinning,” she whispered, as I dragged my lips across her cheek to her ear, and breathed softly into it.

Her body shuddered in response.

“Mine is, too,” I replied. “You’re so beautiful. I don’t want to let go of you.”

Wrapping her arms around my neck, she clung to me as if we were about to be violently ripped apart. I squeezed her against me and kissed her neck.

“What’s happening here?” she murmured in my ear.

“I don’t know,” I said, refusing to release her, “but whatever it is, it’s important.”

It was a strange thing to say, and at the time, I had no notion of the significance of those words, but they would make sense to me later.

Marissa’s and Sean’s laughter and their footsteps tramping up the wooden stairs from the beach caused us to step apart. Elizabeth straightened her sweater and smoothed her hair, while I backed away from her, toward the railing.

She smiled at me, flirtatiously, and I wanted to go running down to the beach to shout across the water and tell the whole damn world that I was in love.

“Sorry we took so long!” Marissa shouted from the lawn down below. “Were you worried?”

I leaned over the railing. “Lucky for you the tide is out, young lady, or we might have sent for a rescue team.”

Marissa and Sean climbed the steps. “What have you guys been up to?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Elizabeth and I answered guiltily, in unison.

We looked at each other and laughed.

“Hah, hah.” Marissa wagged a finger at us. “You two ought to take that hilarious show on the road.”

She behaved as if nothing was amiss, but I knew Marissa sensed something as she led Sean into the kitchen. Elizabeth and I followed.

“Want to watch Conan O’Brian?” she suggested. “I notice you’ve been recording all his shows since I left.”

“Sure,” I replied. “Can you stay?” I asked Elizabeth.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” she casually replied, and we all filed into the living room.

I sat down on the sofa with a surprising sense of wellbeing, and wondered how I was going to explain to Marissa that I had fallen in love with the home care worker I had wanted to fire on the first day.

A woman who had worn combat boots and a temporary butterfly tattoo on her wrist.

Would wonders never cease?

Chapter Fifty-five

“There’s something going on between you two, isn’t there?” Marissa asked me the following morning at the table over breakfast.

Sean was still asleep in the spare bedroom, and Gladys was up early as always, sipping tea with us.

“What do you mean?” I replied.

“You and Elizabeth,” she clarified. “It was weird when we came back from our walk. You missed it Gram, but they were both blushing.”

“They’re such a lovely couple,” she replied. “Do you have children?” she asked me.

“No, Gladys,” I replied. “No kids yet, but I promise to keep you posted.”

Marissa leaned back in her chair and pointed her spoon at me. “There. You see? I was right. There
is
something going on.”

“I’m not admitting anything,” I said, crunching fast on my granola, “but hypothetically speaking, if there
was
something going on, how would you feel about that?”

The corner of her mouth curled up in a grin. “I wouldn’t have a problem with it, Ryan. You know how I feel about Elizabeth. For a long time I’ve wondered if, maybe, you’re meant to be with her. Maybe that’s why she was placed in our path.”

“Placed in our path,” I said. “That sounds very New Age.”

“Don’t you believe in fate?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

Marissa leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. “What
do
you believe in? Love, I hope. I also hope you’re going to tell me what happened last night.”

I smiled and set down my spoon. “You were always such a sucker for good gossip.”

“Yes, and not much has changed.”

“I like gossip, too,” Gladys added, and leaned forward in her chair to hear me admit that I lost my head under the stars, and kissed Elizabeth for the first time.

And it was awesome.

o0o

Marissa and Sean returned to Halifax on Monday afternoon, leaving Elizabeth and me behind to figure out our feelings for each other.

Gladys thought we were married anyway, so it seemed quite natural for us to sit together on the sofa in the evenings and hold hands. It gave Gladys pleasure to see us together—who knew she was such a romantic? – and who was I to deny an old woman such happiness?

For twenty-one days straight, we kissed at every possible opportunity. Then, late one night, after Gladys was asleep and we were making out like hormonal teenagers on the sofa, I asked Elizabeth to stay the night.

She said yes.

I woke the next morning to find her in one of my hockey jerseys, standing at the stove, cooking eggs. But Elizabeth, barefoot in my home at sunrise, was not the most notable thing. It took me a moment or two to register what was different, but I soon realized there was no sign of the butterfly on her wrist.

I felt certain that my future was sealed, and that this was why she had come to Nova Scotia.

Because she was meant to be with me.

I wish I could say it was as simple as that, but I still had much to learn about the power of destiny.

Changes

Chapter Fifty-six

Marissa

I knew, when I returned home for Christmas, that my world would be altered.

Since Thanksgiving, Ryan kept me informed about Gram’s condition with in-depth phone calls every Sunday. He explained that she was declining more rapidly than expected, and he wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to remain at home. She was no longer the woman we once knew. She couldn’t remember any of our names, and sometimes she wouldn’t speak for hours on end. She would just stare blankly out through the frosty windows at the fishing boats on the Bay.

Other times, when she tried to speak, she couldn’t find the right words: ‘I’m hungry. Can I have some dishes?’ Once, she asked Elizabeth to tie her envelope.