My Kind of Christmas
Page 17

“He always said it was you who favored—”
“We treat women right,” Colin said, cutting off his younger brother. “We Riordans don’t have a lot of sterling qualities, but we’re good to women. And our friends. And, in tough times, to our brothers. Ready to settle down now?”
“She’s good people, Colin,” Patrick said. “I don’t want either of you saying one negative thing about Angie.”
“Patrick, man, no one would. But you have to tell her she’s been outted. You wouldn’t want word to get around to Jack and have her broadsided.”
“I’ll take care of her.”
“Of course you will. You probably don’t have to be told this, but she’s a little…tender.”
And with that, Patrick dropped his chin, looking down. He couldn’t help feeling the weight of that. God knew he didn’t want that to be the case—he wanted her to be as tough as she talked. That way he could leave her when he had to without feeling like a piece of shit.
“It’s okay, buddy,” Colin said. “You can’t always help who gets your attention. At least she’s over twenty-one.”
“Then why the reaction?” Patrick demanded.
“Because, kid—you have complications right now. ‘Commitments,’ as you call them. Just let me know if you need someone at your back.”
Patrick was quiet for a minute. “Thanks.”
“Want dinner here tonight? I’m cooking for my little farmer.”
“Sorry, I can’t.”
Colin studied him for a long moment. “Of course you can’t,” he finally said.
* * *
The Riordan men weren’t known for sensitivity, though they did stick together. In fact, they could be rolling in the dust fighting one minute and the next backing one another up. Patrick, being the youngest, had never had great conflict with any of them. It was Luke and Colin who fought the most. Then it was Luke and Sean. Then it was Sean and Colin. There were times it was Luke or Colin and Aiden. But no one could stay mad at Paddy.
He’d had about enough of being called kid, however.
So, the old boys—Luke and Colin—had mellowed out beyond anything Paddy had expected. He was convinced it was their women. Two of the scrappiest Riordans got two of the best women—Shelby and Jilly. Nothing wrong with Sean’s Franci or Aiden’s Erin, either, but the latter two women hadn’t had nearly as much challenge in taming their men.
Colin was right in what he said to Patrick—Angie was tender, even though she tried to appear worldly and brave. He should probably break things off before he added to her struggle with her family, with her uncle. They were going to part ways eventually, anyway. Probably better if it happened sooner than later. But he couldn’t even think about it. Patrick hadn’t had the kind of experience he’d shared with Angie with another woman in so long he couldn’t… Oh, hell, he was pretty sure he’d never had that kind of experience with a woman, and he was not without experience.
Once home, he got his stir-fry ready—chopped and marinated so that all that was left was to throw it in the pan. Then he settled in to call Marie.
“Hullo?” she said thickly.
Oh, please, he prayed. Let it be a cold.
“How are you today, Marie?”
She sniffed and snuffled. “Oh, Paddy,” she said, crying. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I let myself have a bad day—I think I lost my mind a little bit.”
“What happened, honey?”
“It was so crazy. My mom was watching Daniel so I could do a little Christmas shopping at the mall. It was crowded, it was festive, lots of lights and music and…I was feeling so good. I kept finding things I couldn’t resist—perfect presents. I went through a ton of stores and bought armloads of things and then… Oh, God, Paddy! I realized I’d bought presents for Jake!” And she melted into tears.
“It’s okay, Marie,” he said. “It’s okay....”
“Shirts and sweaters and pants and shoes. Electronic stuff he would love. All for Jake. Like I was going to go home, wrap it all up, put it under the tree and he’d—” He could hear the sobs across the phone line.
“You can take it all back,” he said, trying to reassure her, to comfort her.
“I don’t want to take it back! I want him to come home!”
“Aw, Marie…”
“Do you ever ask yourself if it’s true? If he’s really gone?”
He shook his head, although she couldn’t see him. This might be a good time to tell her Jake sometimes visited his dreams, joked around with him, poked fun at him. But then again, no…
“Unfortunately, I know he’s gone,” he said quietly. “But I think I’d rather forget that sometimes and buy him Christmas presents by accident.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
“If I could have an hour of him being alive, I’d take it.”
“I don’t know what to do,” she whimpered.
“Ask your mom or sister to return those things, Marie. Or give them to charity and send me the bill. If it makes you feel better to look at them, touch them, fondle them for a while, then do that for a week or so. It’s Christmas—it’s hard. But it’ll pass.” He wiped at his eye.
“For a while it really felt like he was alive,” she said weakly. “What’s the matter with me?”
“Nothing,” he insisted. “Normal confusion—he was your soul mate. The loss is… It’s just hard, especially right now. You talk to anyone in your grief group?”
“I don’t want to right now. I just want to…you know…”
He chuckled through a fat tear. “Wallow?”
She chuckled back but it caught on a hiccup. “Exactly.”
Patrick found himself thinking about their shared grief, how quickly sobs could turn into laughter and vice versa. They’d done this together since Jake’s death. Even though Marie had a loving family, it was Patrick and Marie together who mourned Jake the most, the hardest. Even little Daniel, at barely two, didn’t really feel the loss. His father had been deployed so much of his young life, anyway.
“Maybe you should sleep with the presents you bought,” he said, teasing.
“Or wear them?” she teased back. “Oh, God, it’s so embarrassing. I’m afraid if I tell my mom how I lost my mind, she’ll put me in a treatment center.”
“Nah, she won’t do that. But you better not tell her until you’re ready to part with all those presents. Hey, I think I’m Jake’s size....”
“Nice try—I didn’t buy those things for you.”
“But I’m coming for Christmas. You don’t have to get anything, but if you’re already loaded up… What electronics?”
“Stop,” she said, laughing. “Oh, Paddy, no one can bring me back to life like you can. What would I do without you? I love you so much. But I’ve already told you, you don’t have to come for Christmas.”
“Why the hell not? Aren’t you looking forward to seeing me again?”
“Patrick, of course, but you have family. Spend time with them while you can.”
“You’re my family. I promised Jake a long time ago that if anything ever happened to him, I’d take good care of you.”
“Oh, Paddy, if only you could give me what I need. I love you, and you’re my dearest friend, but we have to find a way to move on.” She sniffed loudly. “It’s hard right now, but we’ll do it. We’ll find a way to do it.”
“I’m coming,” he said. “My family has other plans.”
“Patrick,” she said. “You are pure gold.”
“No, I’m not—I already have my ticket. I’m reserved at the motel.”
“I’m just not sure this would be good for either one of us. I don’t want to depend on you too much.”
“It’ll be good,” he said. “I guarantee it.”
After a little more chat, they said goodbye and Patrick sat in his small living room and thought about her pain and loneliness. He had to be there for her and he would be. Maybe with a little more time he could convince her that together they could keep Jake alive and have a good life.
For the second time in twenty-four hours he made up his mind—the best thing would be to set Angie free to pursue her dreams while he went to Charleston by way of Oklahoma City and on to the next part of his life. He’d propose the idea to Marie—that they could do it together. Best friends forever. An excellent concept.
And then there was a light tapping at the cabin door. He opened it and there stood Angie, Christmas lights wrapped around her, twinkling. Her eyes were alive, her smile infectious.
“Oh, God,” he said. “What’s this?”
“I’m your Christmas present!” she said on a laugh. “Do you have any idea how big the battery pack has to be to do this?”
How do you turn down a Christmas present? He snatched her against him and went after her mouth with every ounce of passion he felt inside. He didn’t stop until they were both almost freezing from standing in the open doorway.
Chapter Eight
Patrick pulled Angie inside and held her on his lap in front of the fire, lights and all. “Tell me about your day, sweetheart. It’s bound to lead up to the lights.”
“I had a good, productive day. It started off with a conversation with Mel about Megan’s scar. Mel isn’t sure, but she thinks it could be a fairly simple correction. Still costly, still out of their reach, but… Well, let me start with this—I mentioned Dr. Temple, my neurosurgeon, didn’t I?”
“I think so.”
“I had a lot of doctors, techs, nurses and therapists after my accident. It was pretty easy to get close to some of them, but he was the one I loved. I think my shunt has his initials on it.” She smiled and absently touched that place on her head. “He spent much more time with me than seemed necessary. He was the one practitioner who was never in a hurry. I’ve even stayed in touch with him a little—emailed him a few times, called him twice or so. The most wonderful man.”
“You crushed on him,” Patrick said.
With an impish grin, she kissed him quick on the lips. Then she said, “I would have married him in a second. He was around sixty, however. But I loved him and today I learned something about him I didn’t know. I called him for advice about how I might help Megan and I found out he gives an average of a day of every week providing neurosurgery for people who couldn’t otherwise have it—that would include the underinsured, the poor who can’t get help from Medicaid, the people who make too much money to qualify for Medicaid but can’t afford both medical benefits and food. Megan and her family fall into the underinsured category. Dr. Temple said he’d be happy to work with me on that if I would be the point man. He’s not the guy to do it, but he offered to reach out to some plastic surgeons. He gave me a list of things he thought I should look into to get this process started.
“And guess what else? I told him about the peace corps or a similar organization and he thought it was a great idea. He said I’d learn more in humanitarian relief than anywhere else. He also said he didn’t think they’d resist my application because of a titanium rod or a shunt, as long as I’m in good health. And I’m in excellent health.”
“I can see that,” he said with a bright smile. “You’re all lit up.”
“Will you help me out of these lights? And my jacket? This fire is getting hot....”
“I’d be glad to help you out of all your clothes. Stand up,” he said. He pulled on the end of the string of lights, she twirled around in front of him and, in just a minute, the lights were off. She shrugged out of her jacket and he pulled her back down on his lap.