Deeper Than The Ocean by Julie Ann Walker
Chapter 34
5:56 AM…
Chrissy sat beside her mother’s bed.
Well, it wasn’t her mother’s bed. It was the hospital bed the hospice workers had set up in the middle of Chrissy’s living room.
She’d dragged one of the rocking chairs in from the front porch since it was easy to get it close to the bed. Plus, the gentle rocking motion was soothing as she stared lovingly at the woman who had given her life.
Josephine was a shadow of her former self. Her once thick hair was long gone. Her Sophia Vergara figure had wasted away to nothing but skin and bones. Her tan, vibrant skin was sallow and sunken in around her features.
The smell of ointments and unguents and antiseptic hung heavy in the air, with the more pervasive odor of sickness swimming beneath it all.
Cancer was such an indignity. Worse, it was a damned thief. It had robbed Josephine of her health. Of her lucidity. And very soon it would rob her of her life.
Chrissy swallowed the tears that burned in the back of her throat when her mother stirred. And even though the face that turned to her no longer looked anything like her mother’s pretty visage, it was still the face of the one and only person who had loved Chrissy her entire life. And it was agony to watch that face scrunch up in pain. To see those hairless eyebrows pucker. To witness the tears that slipped down those hollow cheeks.
“Mom?” She gently touched her mother’s bony hand. “Do you want me to call the nurse for more pain meds?”
The home healthcare workers had originally been coming by only during the day. But for the last couple of days, they were working in shifts so someone was always there with Josephine.
They hadn’t said so, but their heightened vigilance told Chrissy they all knew it could happen at any moment.
Nurse Danielle was the one on duty now. But the sweet, soft-spoken woman had stepped onto the porch to call home and check on her kids. And yet, Chrissy knew all it would take would be a look from her and Danielle would rush in to help Josephine settle.
“The worst feeling in the world is being abandoned by someone you love.” Her mother’s voice was raspy. But her blue eyes—eyes she’d given to her only daughter—were surprisingly clear.
The lump in Chrissy’s throat was a permanent fixture these days. But she managed to speak around it. “You’re not abandoning me, Mom. You’re being taken from me. There’s a difference.”
“No.” Josephine shook her head and it caused the stocking cap to shift on her bald scalp. Chrissy automatically adjusted it. Josephine got so cold now. It took three blankets and winter-weight pajamas to keep her warm. “I don’t mean you and me, baby girl. I mean Jake.”
Chrissy frowned. Josephine rarely spoke about her first husband, Chrissy’s father. Jake Szarek had been a singer/songwriter who never could seem to gain much of a following, but who still played the circuit of festivals and bars as if he had.
He’d left Chrissy and Josephine when Chrissy was two years old, and had sent birthday cards up until Chrissy’s sixth birthday. But she had no recollection of the man. If not for the handful of photos showing him holding her as a baby, she would doubt his existence.
“My biggest mistake was believing him when he said he’d stay,” Josephine sobbed softly. “When he said his love for me was larger than his dream of making it big.”
“Shhh, Mom,” Chrissy soothed. “That was a long time ago. And it was his loss, not yours.”
“It doesn’t seem so long ago,” Josephine protested. “And if it weren’t for you, baby girl, I swear I would wish I could go back to the day I met him and walk the other way.”
“Oh, Momma. I’m so—”
“And I owe you an apology,” Josephine kept on as if Chrissy weren’t talking. Her moments of mental clarity were few and far between now, and it seemed she was determined to say whatever it was she wanted to say before she slipped into oblivion again. “I’m sorry I kept dragging men into your life and letting you fall in love with them only for them to leave. I think…” Her mother’s brow puckered. “I think I kept trying to find it again. That wild, passionate love I felt for Jake. And I just… I never could.” She blew out a soft sigh. “Maybe that’s why they all ended up leaving. Maybe they could tell I didn’t love them the way I loved your father.”
“No,” Chrissy whispered. “They left because they were liars and cheaters. None of them were good enough for you.”
Her mother grabbed her hand with more strength than Chrissy would’ve thought she had in her ravaged body. “Don’t follow in my footsteps, baby girl.” Josephine’s eyes burned with desperation. “Find yourself a good man. One who makes you laugh. Who makes you shine. Who appreciates what a beautiful, kind, intelligent woman you are. Find a man who knows once he has you, that doesn’t mean he gets to stop doing all the things it took to get you. One who’s steady enough to put in the work even when the sparkle fades and the dust settles in.”
“Okay, Mom.” Chrissy smoothed the blankets over her mother’s gaunt shoulders. The last thing she wanted to talk about, or think about, was her love life. She had far more important matters to deal with. Namely, making her mother’s last few days as peaceful as possible.
“You’re such a smart woman, Chrissy. So much smarter than I ever was.” Chrissy opened her mouth to protest, but Josephine pushed ahead. “Use that, kiddo. Use that big brain to make better decisions than I did.”
“I will.” She tried to smile reassuringly, but it felt tremulous. “I promise I will.”
All the fervor went out of her mother then. Josephine closed her eyes and slipped into sleep.
It was the last conversation the two of them had. Twenty-four hours later, Chrissy’s mother was dead…
Horrified, she jolted awake. The dream that was really a memory was painfully close to the surface, bringing with it the rawness of her grief, the soul-crushing depth of her loss.
In the early days following her mother’s death, she’d had the dream often. Her unconscious brain reliving those last awful hours of Josephine’s life. But as the years had gone on, Chrissy’s dreams had softened, tending toward the happy times the two of them had shared. The healthy times.
Maybe that’s why she was so shaken now. Because it’d been so long. Because she’d forgotten the razor-sharp sting of fresh remorse.
With her heartbeat slowly settling, and taking the deep breaths she’d learned helped push her through the worst of her mourning, she glanced at the subtle light streaming in through the slats of the shutters.
Not even six A.M., she thought. Too early to be awake.
And yet a sparrow chirped outside. Somewhere nearby, a rooster crowed.
What are birds so happy about at the butt-crack of dawn? she wondered irritably. The dream had left her feeling raw and exposed. And thoughts of the night before made her angry.
Jill Jones… The name sounded blasphemous inside her head.
To think, she’d come to view Jill as a friend. Someone she could call on in times of trouble. Someone who’d be there to offer a strong shoulder and a sympathetic smile.
It was unfathomable. Unthinkable. Unforgivable.
Bitter tears clawed at the backs of her eyes as she turned onto her side, her gaze landing on Wolf. He lay on his back with his face turned toward her.
She took the opportunity to study him. To appreciate the darkness of his eyelashes fanned across the crests of his high cheekbones. To trace the subtle curve of his nose with her yes. To drink in the sight of his wide mouth while it was relaxed in sleep.
He was a beautiful man. Fierce-looking and masculine without being brutish.
The tension and aggravation and hurt slipped out of her when she thought back on all the times over the last day when he’d touched her or kissed her. When he’d whispered dirty words in her ear and brought her to completion with his hands and his mouth and his body.
His lovemaking had made more of a woman of her than she’d ever been. Soft and malleable. Exactly the thing she’d always sworn she’d never become.
Oh, yes. Her hardened resolve. Her willful resistance. Her distrustful heart. Less than a day as his lover and he’d obliterated the first two and laid total claim to the third.
The instant she had the thought, her breath froze in her lungs. A school of bait fish bumped around in her belly.
He had claimed her heart, hadn’t he?
Despite her best efforts, she’d gone and fallen in love with him. But not only that. She wildly and passionately loved the very bones of him.
No! Oh, no!
This was exactly what her mother had warned her about.
Not that Wolf was a philanderer or a liar or a cheat like so many of her mother’s husbands and boyfriends had been. And he wasn’t even the pickup artist and player she’d pegged him as after that night in Schooner Wharf Bar. But he was a man like Chrissy’s father. A man with adventure and wanderlust in his blood.
He’s a Navy SEAL turned treasure hunter, for Pete’s sake! How can he ever truly be satisfied with the life I’m offering?
Flopping onto her back, Chrissy stared up at the ceiling and felt a desolate dread creep into her heart. If she kept on being Wolf’s friend with benefits, she’d fall more and more in love with him. Until eventually, she’d want to tell him.
But if she told him, he’d stay. Always. Even when he no longer wanted to. That was Wolf. Loyal and true.
I have to nip this thing in the bud now, before it gets any more out of control. Before I fall any further. While I can still save our friendship and—
“What’s that ceilin’ ever done to you?” His low, sleep-heavy voice slipped inside her ears.
She wanted so much to jump into his arms and beg him never to leave her. To always love her. But what would that accomplish? He’d agree, of course. Like her father had in the early days when everyone thought love was enough.
But it isn’t,she thought frantically. Sometimes it just isn’t.
“You want some breakfast?” She hoped her panic wasn’t revealed in her voice. “I think I have some eggs and cheese. I could make omelets.”
“I’m hungry for somethin’.” He reached for her. “But it ain’t food.”
She faked a laugh and jumped out of bed, quickly slipping into her robe. She was crazy, but she would swear it still retained the warmth from Wolf’s skin. It definitely held his sexy desert flowers and dry cedar scent.
His all-seeing eyes raked over her face. “What’s wrong?” He sat up in bed.
“Nothing.” She tried to sound airy and light. Instead, her voice cracked.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“Nothing’s wrong per se,” she clarified. “We have a full day ahead of us. We have to go to the police station to give our statements. I want to stop by the hospital to see Winston and his folks. Besides…” She tentatively met his gaze. “Haven’t we scratched our itch enough? Don’t you think it’s time to go back to being friends?”
Understanding dawned in those sparkling black eyes. His tone was one of ill-disguised frustration when he said lowly, slowly, “What are you doin’, Christina?”
She felt her cheeks burn scarlet. “What?” She blinked innocently. “Nothing, I—”
“Don’t bullshit me,” he cut in pointedly. “Is this you breakin’ up with me?”
The hard look in his eyes made her bristle. “We were never together, Wolf. So we can’t break up.”
He lifted his gaze heavenward, and sweet heavens! Why did he have to have such an appealing Adam’s apple? Then he dropped his chin and indicated the rumbled sheets. “If we weren’t together, what do you call this?”
“I call it, uh—” Her mouth was cotton ball dry. She swallowed and tried again. “I call it the benefits side of friends with benefits.”
“Great.” He dipped his chin. “So after one night you’re ready to go back to nixin’ that part of our relationship?”
His savage gaze knocked out what little wind she still had in her sails. But the sound of her phone alerting her to a text gave her a chance to escape. “I better go check that.”
She didn’t wait for him to respond before turning tail and running out of the room like the coward she was. Once in the kitchen, she thumbed on her phone and lifted a hand to her mouth when she saw the message from Maryanne Turner. She swung around, only to discover Wolf had followed her.
He was absolutely glorious in his nudity. So male and virile and completely confident as he stood there with his arms crossed and a deep scowl on his beautiful face.
“They’re taking Winston into surgery.” Her voice was hoarse from the battle to keep her emotions in check. “I need to go to the hospital. I want to be there for Curtis and Maryanne.”
His nostrils flared. His eyes tried to burn holes through her. But he didn’t say a word.
“I’ll run and get dressed,” she said inanely, scurrying by him.
While she slipped into a pair of shorts, she told herself she was doing the right thing for both of them. She was saving herself a broken heart. And she was freeing him to live the life he was truly meant to live. Even if he didn’t know it. Because she knew him.
If you love something, set it free. Right?
Yes. This is right! she mentally railed.
So why did it feel so wrong?