Wild Ice (17 page)

Blinking rapidly, he pulled back. “Why would you tell me something like that?” His chest tightened and his throat ached.
They weren’t supposed to be talking about this.
They were supposed to be planning what to eat for brunch on Sunday or where to go on vacation this summer or what color to paint the nursery. But there would be no future plans. There would be no baby. “
Why
?”

“Because you have so much love to give.”
He shook his head and she continued. “What if there’s someone else out there who could benefit from your love? I can’t die knowing you’ll stay alone forever because of me.”

He balled his hands into fists. “You’re not going to die, Darla. Stop talking like that.”

He didn’t want to even
think
about loving another woman besides Darla. She and only she was the love of his life. They’d built a life together. They’d recited vows to each other and made plans for the future. It wasn’t over. There was still a chance…

“I have to talk like this, honey. We have to face reality. This last round of chemo—”

“I know!” he cut her off, not wanting to be reminded of the failed treatment. “So we’ll try another one.”

“This was already the third round, honey,” she said gently. “My body can’t handle anymore.”

He swallowed and blinked back the tears burning his eyes. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

“I’m telling you that it’s okay to move on. This is important to me. Years from now when you meet someone,
and you
will
meet someone, I don’t want you to turn your back because you’re worried about honoring my memory. I’ll have to come down and bop you on the head with my halo.” She laughed weakly at her own joke.

He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in her smell. He made a mental note to remember how she fit in his arms, how her head rested against his chest, how soft her skin was.
He wouldn’t remember her how she was now, with a bald head and translucent skin and hollowed face. He would remember her like she was last year, with long golden hair and a smile that lit up the room.

“Promise me you’ll be open to loving someone else
,” Darla pleaded. “
Please
.”

JD
would have promised her the moon if it would get rid of the tumors.

“I promise
,” he said.

The voices
from the past—her voice—quieted in his head. She’d already told him what he needed to hear. There was nothing left to say.

JD opened his eyes and he was alone in his room
again with Mel snoring softly at his feet. He went through the rest of the paperwork to make sure he wasn’t throwing away anything important, and at the bottom of the pile, he found an envelope with his name written on it.

His
chest tightened and he sat on the edge of the bed before his knees buckled out from under him. He knew exactly what this was.

Before she died,
Darla had written letters to all of her friends and family. Everyone except him. He told himself he didn’t need a letter from her to validate their love for each other. The years they spent together were more important than words on paper.

JD pulled the letter from the envelope and
recognized Darla’s monogrammed stationery. She had written him a letter after all.

Dear JD,

I have saved your letter for last because I knew it would be the hardest to write. You’ve been by my side every step of the way and I couldn’t possibly thank you enough for that. My life was enriched as a result of knowing you and being loved by you.
We had a good run, sweetheart. I like to think I made a difference in people’s lives and you certainly made a difference in mine.

I was lucky enough to find you and experience firsthand what most women do not. You showed me what it was like to feel like the only one in the room even when it was full of other people. You taught me what it feels like to be loved, unconditionally, and the meaning of tenderness, patience and trust.

But this is not the end, JD. Please, live the kind of life I would have wanted for myself. Cherish every minute of it and take nothing for granted. Leave the past behind you where it belongs.

You have more talent in your little finger than most of the
players out on the ice today. Don’t squander that talent. Don’t let your grief be for nothing just because of me. Let yourself be open to love. You have so much to give and you deserve to receive it in return. I believe there is someone else out there who needs you like I did. Don’t let my death put a lock around your heart. If there wasn’t such a thing as loss, then the moments when we gained wouldn’t be so sweet.

Hold on to our memories
, but not so tight that your hands aren’t open to hold someone else’s.

I love you
.

Always yours,

Darla

JD looked down at the wedding ring on his left hand and wished it could have offered him comfort this past year. It slid from his finger a lot easier than he thought it would. The ring felt heavier on his palm than it had on his finger and he ran his finger over it and sighed. There it was. A band of gold. Representing their love and commitment to each other. During their five years of marriage, they’d been faithful to each other. Then why did he feel like he was being unfaithful to her now?

JD
slid the letter back into the envelope and tucked the ring inside with it. He went to the window on the other side of the bed and pushed open the drapes. Sunlight washed the room in golden warmth. A bird landed on a tree branch outside and JD froze, studying it. It was pinkish gray-brown with black spots on its wing and it had a black dot near its eye like a beauty mark. He should have known what species it was, but he didn’t. Lauren would know in a heartbeat.

Th
en it hit him like a slapshot to the chest. It was the dove, the one from the photo she’d shown him. The one who made that dreadful sound that made his heart ache when he heard it. It sat so still, like a statue, and then flew off just as quickly as it had come.

JD turned back to the bed and shoved the papers back into the box.
He didn’t have to keep a box full of crinkled papers and broken souvenirs to remind him of his time with Darla. He kept the memories of her inside his heart and that was enough.

Chapter Eighteen

Chicken and Waffles

The next day and the one after that, JD left the curtains open. It was refreshing to let the sun shine in, but at the same time he felt exposed to the world. Why was that? It wasn’t like there was anything out there. Just grass and clusters of trees along the creek in the distance. It wasn’t like there was anyone out there looking in at him. It was just him and Mel and all the nature they could handle.

But instead of being outside surrounded by nature, JD chose to spend the morning exercising.
What could he say? Some old habits die hard.

He
ran full speed ahead on the treadmill and his lungs burned, but it just didn’t feel the same. Running on the treadmill used to be enough. A lot of what used to be enough wasn’t enough these days. When had that changed? He knew good and well when things started to not be enough. After he saw Lauren in the field, he’d begun to second guess himself and the choices he’d made this past year.

After the second mile, t
he fact that he was running and getting nowhere hit him full force. He climbed off the treadmill and punched in the
stop
command. The belt came to a halt and he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

It was a beautiful day outside
, just like every other day, so JD brought his weights and jump rope outside. It wasn’t because he hoped to see Lauren. Or so he told himself.

Things were different between them now. Not in a bad way.
Far from it. Ever since they’d bared their souls and secrets they were closer than ever.

Mel was delighted by JD’s sudden interest in the outside world
, but the fun soon wore off when he realized JD wasn’t going passed the patio.

Instead,
JD assumed the push-up position and started counting.

Mel whined and looked in the direction of the cottage.

“No,” JD warned the eager dog. “Stay.”

JD
continued his workout with mountain climbers, jumping jacks and jump rope. Sweat dripped into his eyes and rolled down his back.

All of a sudden,
Mel let out an excited yip.

JD looked up and saw the giant floppy hat bobbing above the tall grass. The corners of his mouth curved into a smile.
“Okay,” he murmured.

Mel shot forward like a bullet. He was a blur of blonde fur until he disappeared into the grass. The hat stilled and
then disappeared when Lauren bent down to pet him. After a few minutes, they both emerged from the grass.

Lauren was fresh-faced and beautiful in the afternoon sun. The giant hat shadowed her face
, but he could still see the freckles that dusted her nose.

JD took a swig of water and swiped a towel over his face.
Suddenly, he felt self-conscious. He desperately needed a shower and a change of clothes. Sweat seeped through his tee shirt and he probably didn’t smell that great either. Why had he decided to emerge from the safe confines of his house again?

Right.
The answer was standing right in front of him.

* * *

Lauren came back from her walk along the creek and saw JD on his back p
atio. He was leaning against the pillar almost like he’d been waiting for her. She smiled and made her way toward him through the grass. It was nice to see him outside for a change. Really nice. She knew that being cooped up inside of that dark and gloomy mansion couldn’t be good for a person.

He returned
her smile and asked, “How’s the bird activity today?”

“Great,” she said, coming to a stop in front of him. “I saw a
green heron a ways down the creek and a Northern harrier up in an alder tree. I took some pictures. I can show them to you later if any of them turned out.”

“
Okay.” Sweat trickled down on his forehead and he wiped at it with a towel. “Would you like to join me for dinner?”

The question was asked hesitantly like he was afraid to hear the answer.

A look of surprise flashed across her face and then it was gone.

“Sure
, I’d love to,” she answered. “All that walking works up an appetite.”

After t
hey agreed on a time, Lauren went to the cottage to change and JD went inside to take a shower.

* * *

JD stumbled
frantically around the kitchen. He’d taken a shower, ran into town for groceries and now he was trying to whip up an edible meal. The hours he’d had to prepare dinner was ticking away ominously on the grandfather clock.

It had taken forever just to find a pan and utensils.
A lot of good it did for his housekeeper, Veronica, to keep everything clean and organized when he didn’t know where anything was. He’d lived in this house for over a year and didn’t even know his way around his own kitchen. But that wasn’t
his
fault. It wasn’t like he ever cooked in it or anything.

Out of nowhere, an open cabinet door jumped out and slammed into
JD’s leg. He swore under his breath and rubbed the pain from his knee. He felt clumsy and bewildered like some kid on the first day of school with no idea where his classes were. Which was absolutely ridiculous because he was a grown man and he knew exactly where he was. A warzone.

He surveyed the kitchen
and cringed. It was a mess and Lauren was due any minute. He cursed himself for inviting Lauren over in the first place. He would have been much better off keeping his big yap shut and eating his normal dinner of boxed macaroni and cheese by himself. Yeah. Good times.

No, he wouldn’t fall into that trap. He was glad he invited her over.
How was he supposed to get on with his life like everyone had told him to do when he never made an effort? Well, he was making an effort now and just like he’d feared it was all turning to—

“Shit!” The sauce boiled over
on the stove and he burned his hand on the pot handle. “Pot holder. Where are the potholders?” He looked to Mel for help and the big dog returned the helpless look.

Mel could sense something was out of the ordinary this evening and the more
frantic JD became, the higher the pitch of Mel’s whine.

Sauce sputtered from the pan and splattered
onto JD’s shirt. “Well, this is just great.”

JD
used to have everything together. The perfect, organized life where his only decisions involved which tie went with his designer suit. The Calvin Klein or the Michael Kors? Or which steak to order when he was out to dinner with his teammates. The New York strip or the porterhouse?

This was all Lauren’s fault for agreeing to come over for dinner in the first place. How was he to know she’d actually say yes and send his quiet boring life into a tailspin of chicken and red sauce and twelve kinds of salad dressing?

“Shit! I forgot to buy salad dressing!” He used a towel to cover the pot handle and removed the red sauce from the flame.

Great.
Just great. He bought the fixings for a salad but forgot the damn salad dressing. What good were Texas Toast croutons, cucumbers, and baby tomatoes without the dressing?

Maybe
Lauren didn’t even like salad. He had to admit he really didn’t know all that much about her. Wasn’t that the entire point of inviting her over for dinner?

JD dabbed at his shirt with the towel and cursed again. He’d forgotten
to buy beverages, too. Wine? Was he supposed to serve wine? Would that be too forward? What kind of wine went with chicken parmesan anyway? He didn’t know about that kind of stuff. Darla was the one who cared about the right type of wine being paired with specific foods. Just like he didn’t know the difference between a mallard and a coot, he didn’t know the difference between Chardonnay and Cabernet. His specialties were things a D-man did like blocking shooting lanes, keeping opposing forwards from  moving in front of the net, clearing rebounds away from the goal, reading another team’s defensive strategy, keeping the puck in the offensive zone, cutting off breakaways—or at least they
used
to be. Now, he couldn’t even cook a simple dinner for two.

JD
wished Harry Houdini could stop by and make Teal Manor disappear altogether, so he’d be off the hook. Then the image of Lauren’s pretty face flashed through his mind. JD didn’t want to let Lauren down. He didn’t want to see a look of disappointment on her face. Somehow he had to pull himself together and make her a dinner she wouldn’t forget.

Well,
after tonight’s debacle, she wasn’t about to forget this failure of a dinner anytime soon.

She was
about to find out a few things about him all right. Like how tonight JD couldn’t seem to cook a meal he’d prepared a hundred times before, even to save his life. How, although he’d never folded under pressure before, tonight he was folding faster than a yard sale lawn chair.

He’d only inv
ited her because he wanted to—what? Why
had
he invited Lauren over for dinner? Well, he’d wanted to see her again because he liked the way her eyes lit up when she talked about birds. He hadn’t felt any kind of excitement about anything in a very long time and she seemed to get excited about the simplest of things. He liked how she listened to him and didn’t pressure him for answers or guilt him into giving them.

Besides, was it a crime to eat a meal with someone? No, but serving her salad with no dressing and sauce with no chicken would be a crime indeed.
Oh well, there wouldn’t be any wine for her to wash it down with anyways.

When
JD transferred the chicken from the fry pan and into the baking dish, the cutlet slipped out of the tongs and onto the floor. The plopping sound echoed through the kitchen, perfectly representing his epic failure. To make matters worse, Mel descended on the chicken like a buzzard and devoured it in one gulp. The dog licked his chops and looked expectantly at JD for more, like he was a chicken dispenser there solely for Mel’s enjoyment.

JD’s
shoulders slumped in defeat.

What was his problem? He’d made this dish a gazillion times before without a hitch. Today just had to be the day when he developed butterfingers and senility.

He looked down at his hands and they were shaking—damn it! Why was he so freakin’ nervous? He’d played hockey in front of thousands of scrutinizing fans with no problem. Here he was trying to cook dinner for
one
woman and it felt like his heart was going to pound its way out of his chest. Good thing it didn’t or else Mel would probably scarf that up in one gulp up, too.

JD
felt awful about ruining dinner. He wasn’t used to failing. He’d been a damn good hockey player and a helluva good husband for that matter. Even though he had no control over Darla’s diagnosis, when she passed away he felt like he’d failed her somehow. This dinner was a complete failure and he should’ve had control over it.

JD sighed and scraped his hands through his hair. He leaned against the fridge and looked at the single remaining piece of chicken. What the hell was he going to do now? Lauren was going to be here any minute—a knock on the sliding glass door sounded—and he only had one measly piece of chicken to offer her
, a salad with no dressing, and absolutely no contingency plan.

Mel whined as if to say “Hurry up with the rest of the chicken down here”
and JD glared at his lazy, ungrateful excuse for a man’s best friend and went to answer the door.

JD slid open the door and Lauren breezed through
it bringing with her the fresh grassy smell of the outdoors. She had changed into a cotton sundress that left her shoulders bare. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders, wavy from being braided earlier. He imagined her unbraiding it and the silky locks falling around her bare shoulders. JD breathed in her floral scent and forgot all about the chicken disaster.

Mel greeted her like he’d been waiting his whole life for her to walk through that door.

“Oooh, it smells wonderful in here!” she exclaimed, taking a deep breath. “What’s for dinner? I’m starving.”

JD shook
himself out of the trance and frowned. “Uh, there was a slight mishap with the chicken and the sauce…
and
the salad.”

“Oh.” Her brows furrowed creating tiny lines above the bridge of her nose.
She walked passed him and went into the kitchen to survey the scene. Mel followed close behind, his big tail wagging so enthusiastically that it thumped against the cabinets.

JD hung back and watched her look around the disaster in the kitchen.

“Were you helping in here, Mel?” She talked to Mel in a slightly higher voice and he ate it up like—well, like chicken off the floor.

JD sighed.
“I forgot to buy salad dressing and then Mel ate one of the chicken breasts. Which was probably for the best because I think I burned the sauce anyway.”

Lauren
laughed and her eyes glittered under the recessed lighting in the kitchen.