Until There Was You

“Well, well, well,” Kate said, clobbering her on the back. “I expect to see that on SportsCenter tonight. That was one amazing hit, pal.”

Looking across the diamond, she saw Liam. He hadn’t changed position, but his eyes were on her, and there it was again, that locked-in feeling. Then he started clapping, quietly, and smiled. That was it, but warmth flooded Posey’s chest as if he’d just presented her with a dozen red roses.

She tipped her baseball cap and smiled back.

The next batter grounded out, and the game was over, Stubby’s 14, Guten Tag 4. Even so, the moral victory was clear, and Stubby’s agreed to buy the first round.

When Posey had been congratulated yet again, when her parents had hugged her and Max had taken several dozen pictures, when most of the people had trickled off, Posey saw Liam and Nicole walking off the field, heading in the direction of their apartment.

“I’ll see you guys at Rosebud’s,” she told her gang, then broke into a run and caught up with Liam.

“Hey, Posey, that was an amazing hit!” Nicole exclaimed, scooping her hair off her neck in a gesture Posey remembered Emma doing.

“Thanks, Nicole,” Posey said. She glanced at Liam, whose eyes were on his daughter.

“Your dad said it was, like, your first hit ever,” Nicole said.

“Sad but true. Hey, do you mind if I have a quick word with your father?”

“Sure! Dad, I’ll catch you at home.” She gave Posey a wave and walked away, all lithe grace and beauty.

Posey watched her go. Abruptly, her heart began slamming against her chest.

“That was a great hit,” Liam said, his eyes glancing off her.

“Whatever,” Posey blurted. Suddenly, looking at Liam was hard. A car passed, and down the street, a mother pushed a pink-clad baby in a stroller, a Golden Retriever walking like a guard at their side.

She took a shaky breath and looked into those green, clear eyes. “Okay, look. I understand you have a daughter, Liam, and she’ll always come first, and it shouldn’t be any other way.” She bit her lip and shoved her hands in her pockets. “When you broke up with me, I said I didn’t need much. But I do. I love you, Liam. I loved you when I was a kid, and I love you now.”

“Posey—”

“No!” she blurted. “It’s Cordelia. You always called me Cordelia.”

“Okay. Cordelia, I just don’t think—”

Posey’s hands flew up to stop his words. “I’d wait as long as you needed, as long as Nicole needed. But I know you feel something for me, and I love you, and I’ve never felt this way about anyone, ever. I want to be with you. I want you to pick me. I know Emma will always be your first love, and that’s fine. But don’t just…don’t just let me go.”

He folded his arms across his chest and looked at the sidewalk. Posey swallowed. Her hands were shaking. “You won’t be sorry, Liam. I’m worth it.”

“I know that,” he said in a harsh whisper. “I do. But I’m not…capable of… Damn it, I have no idea how to say this. But you have this version of me in your head…and it’s just not true.”

“Yes, it is!” He flinched at the force of her words. But once she’d said them, a feeling of calm settled around her. Her heart slowed, her hands stopped shaking, and she reached out and put her hand over his heart, feeling the steady thump. “Liam,” she said softly, “I bet I know you better than anybody. And I love you. There’s no one—no one—I’d rather be with.”

He looked at the ground, and she knew it was over. “I’m sorry, Posey. I really am.”

With that, he walked away, and Posey stood there until he turned the corner and disappeared.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“WELL, IT WAS THE whole do-or-die thing,” Jonathan pronounced, taking up the blow-dryer. “You said it all, gave it your all, went all out. No regrets. Sounds like you were amazing. Hold still.”

Oddly enough, Posey had been feeling…well, not horrible. It was hardest at night in the church with the animals doing their best to let her know she was loved, Shilo’s cementlike head on her belly, the cats purring at her side. But she had tried. Said everything in her heart, and if it wasn’t enough, then it just wasn’t. She was lucky on every other front in her life, and this echo, this empty cavern in her heart…it would fill in. She knew that. She did.

Posey winced as Jon applied a medieval-tong type of instrument. “Is that burning smell anything I should be worried about?”

“You’re fine. You’ll be OMG cute, trust me. Henry, doesn’t she look cute?” Henry grunted. “Betty’s going to adore you, Posey,” Jon continued. “Ten more days till we’re fathers! Ten days, Henry!”

“Ten days!” Henry chorused back, finally looking up with a smile.

“He’s in a good mood today. Some bozo with a table saw lost a thumb yesterday, and guess who reattached it? Happy times, right, darling?”

“So happy,” Henry said. “You look pretty, sis. Jon will be the luckiest boy at the prom.”

A knock came at the door. “Come in!” Jon shouted, then lowered his voice. “That’s my other appointment. Um…it’s Nicole Murphy. They couldn’t fit her in at Curl Up and Dye, but luckily, she has the best home-ec teacher in the world. My curse. I do everything so well.” He fingered a lock of her hair and hit it with some spray. “I hope you don’t mind, Posey.”

“No, no. Of course not.” She looked up as Liam’s daughter came into the kitchen. “Hey, Nicole!”

“Oh, hi, Posey! Are you Mr. White’s date?”

“She’s in love with me and begged me to take her,” Jon said, pulling a face. “Very awkward, but what can I do? She’s family.”

“So, you’re going with Tanner?” Posey asked.

The girl’s face lit up. “Yeah. My dad finally relented.”

She was so lovely, it was as if the room glowed. For a second, Posey felt such a wave of grief for Emma—who would never see this moment, who had been so good to Posey, who had died so horribly young—that tears came to her eyes. “You’re even prettier than your mom,” she said, her voice a little husky.

“Thanks, Posey.” The girl’s face softened.

“There we are, darling, you’re done,” Jon said, and Posey got out of the chair, the unfamiliar fumes of hair spray giving her a little rush.

“So, Nicole, how’s Mister Jonathan doing your hair?” she asked.

“An upsweep?” Nicole said. Jon squinted at her, then nodded.

“Old-school Hollywood, none of this tangled-ponytail business, don’t you think, precious?” Jon began brushing her hair, asking Nicole about her dress, the flowers Tanner would bring her. Henry poured Jon some sparkling water and handed it to him, then sat on the counter, watching the beautification.

“You seem good these days, big bro,” Posey said.

“Can’t wait to be a daddy,” he said.

“Can’t wait to be an aunt.” She squeezed his arm, happy to see him exhibiting normal human emotions.

“Did you have fun at your prom, Posey?” Nicole asked.

Though the question was completely normal, Posey froze. “Oh…well. Sort of.”

“She did not,” Jonathan retorted. “Some horrible boy made fun of her, ruined the whole night. Her date dumped her, and she had to walk home in the rain. It was so Carrie. Minus the killings and fire and blood. But just as bad in its own way.”

“Oh, my gosh!” Nicole exclaimed. “You poor thing!”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Posey said, her face burning.

“If you have any problem at all tonight, Nicole, my dear, you tell me, and I’ll take care of it, okay?”

“You’re so nice, Mr. White. I really appreciate you doing my hair.”

“You’re very welcome. Tilt, please.”

Nicole tilted. “Why would a boy make fun of you? What a jerk! What did he say?”

The fact that Nicole’s father was the subject of the conversation was making Posey’s stomach knot. “Um…I don’t really remember. You know. It was a long time ago. Kids. Teenagers. Whatever.”

“He called her a bag of bones,” Jon said. “So mean! You’re petite, that’s all, sweetheart. Nicole, wait till you see Posey’s dress. So cute! I picked it out, of course.”

“I can’t wait,” Nicole said, smiling sweetly.

“So, who was that jerk, anyway, Posey?” Jon asked. “Henry, you beat him up, right? Does he still live in town?”

Henry was looking steadily at Posey, and a horrid realization sliced through her. Henry knew. He’d memorized all the bones in the human body by the age of four. His IQ was 164, and he had a near-perfect memory. There was no way that he didn’t realize that the jerk in question was the father of the girl sitting in his kitchen…and the guy Posey was in love with. He’d probably known all along.

“I don’t remember,” he said, putting his arm around her. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t beat anyone up, though.”

“Well, I would have,” Jon muttered.

“Oh, man, look at the time,” Posey said. “I better get going. Nicole, see you later. You already look gorgeous.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” Jon said. “Bye! Nicole, dear, tilt your head the other way, now. Hold still, we’re not done yet.”

SHE WAS BEAUTIFUL. Liam’s daughter was perfectly beautiful, and it was killing him.

“What do you think, Daddy?” She twirled around, her long blue dress swishing around her.

“You look twenty-five.”

“Seriously? Thanks!”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

She grinned in the mirror anyway, then applied some lip gloss. The ache in Liam’s heart tightened. Emma should’ve seen this. She would’ve loved this moment. She would’ve known what to say; she would’ve been excited for Nicole, not filled with dread. She would’ve laughed at Liam’s anxieties and made him feel better, because even if they hadn’t been the best couple on their own, they’d always been good parents to this beautiful, magical creature in front of him.

“Hang on a sec,” he said and went into his bedroom. In the back of the closet was a safe. Liam twisted the combination and opened the heavy door. The safe contained the usual items—the deed to this apartment, his garage, the life-insurance policy, a couple grand in cash—no son of a criminal ever really felt safe without cash.

And there in the back was a black velvet box. Liam opened it and took out the strand of Emma’s pearls.

For a moment, the memory of her was so intense that he could smell her perfume, feel the soft skin of her neck, see the pearls glowing against her throat. He could almost hear her laugh.

The pearls were cool in his hand. For a second, he pressed them against his lips and let himself remember just how much he’d loved his wife. Once, the strongest truth in his life was that Emma Tate had chosen him. Those days…those had been burnished with gold, and even if the light slowly faded over the years, those days had happened nonetheless.

Liam cleared his throat and went back into his daughter’s bedroom. “Here,” he said gruffly. “Your mom wore these on our prom night.”

Nicole’s mouth opened. “Oh, Daddy,” she whispered, and her eyes filled with tears.

“She’d be so proud of you,” he said unevenly, fastening the pearls around her neck. “She thought you were the best thing that ever happened.”

His daughter wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him.

“Nic,” Liam whispered into her hair, “I’m sorry for being such a jerk this past year. I just love you so much. When I look at you, I think of the little girl I held in the hospital. You were so pink and perfect, I couldn’t believe I got to keep you. And you loved me so much…I don’t want to lose that. I know you’re growing up, and I’m so proud of you and the person you’re becoming…but I’m so…scared that you won’t need me anymore.”

“Daddy! That would never happen!” She pulled back to look at him. “Oh, wow, you’re going totally sentimental on me.”

“I just want to protect you. I never want you to get hurt or be heartbroken.” He swallowed. “I don’t want you to make mistakes and fall for the wrong guy. I’d jump in front of a bus to keep that from happening. All I want for you is to be safe and happy.”

“Are you crying, Dad? Are those, like, tears in your eyes?”

He gave her a mock scowl. “Give me a break, Nicole. My baby’s growing up. It’s hard.”

She hugged him once more, the smell of her hair so precious it made his heart ache. She pulled back a little, then wiped her eyes with a tissue, careful not to smear her mascara. “Dad,” she said firmly. “I am safe and happy. And like, chances are my heart will get broken someday, and I’ll screw up plenty, right? But if that happens…” She turned to face him. “I know where to come.”

He looked at the floor and nodded. Why were little girls allowed to grow up? And get smart?

“Daddy? You’re doing a good job, you know. You’re a really good father.”

This would be one of those golden moments. He’d keep this moment with him till the last day of his life. “Thanks.” It was the only word he could get out.