Fairytale Not Required Page 21

  Her mother’s face was pinched and wrinkled. Her hair was disheveled and messy, which was such a stark difference from the woman who had always looked her best, because people judged based on looks. It was important to be deemed worthy. Astrid touched her hand, and she was shocked to feel how cold her mother’s skin was. “Mom? It’s me. Astrid. Wake up.”

  There was no response.

  Desperation began to course through her. “Mom,” she said more urgently. “Wake up. It’s me—”

  “She isn’t going to wake up.”

  Astrid jumped and then whirled around. Standing in the doorway was a man with gray hair, a paunch belly and saggy jowls. He was wearing an old sweatshirt and a pair of ratty sneakers, and he was holding a cup of coffee. “Who are you?” she asked.

  “I’m Ralph. Rosie’s husband. You must be Astrid?”

  Astrid squinted as Ralph flicked on the lights. He wasn’t polished. He clearly wasn’t rich. And he wasn’t some hotshot looker. He was ordinary and worn out, but she immediately noticed that his eyes were kind and gentle. “My mom’s married?”

  Ralph nodded. “It will be two years next week.”

  “Two years?” Astrid stared at him in shock. None of her mother’s marriages had lasted more than six months. And never had she married a guy as ordinary as Ralph.

  “Yep.” Ralph walked into the room and sat in the chair on the other side of the bed. He set his coffee down and took Rosie’s hand in his. “Rosie,” he said softly. “Astrid’s here to see you. Did you know that?”

  Astrid was shocked by the tenderness in his voice, by the love pouring out of him. No man had ever spoken to her mother like that. No one had ever held Rosie’s hand so gently. Stunned, she looked at her mother’s face, and then her heart went still when she saw Rosie in the light. She looked a hundred years old, with wrinkles and sallow skin. She looked like she was dying. “What’s wrong with her?”

  He met her gaze. “She’s almost out of time, Astrid. She went into a coma this morning, and she won’t come out of it. She has maybe a few hours left.”

  “What?” Panic hammered at Astrid. “But she can’t die. I need to talk to her.”

  Ralph’s eyes narrowed, and she thought she saw a flash of bitterness. “For years, she’s been waiting for you to call her. For years, I’ve been trying to talk her into calling you. Neither of you did a damn thing, and now it’s too late.”

  “But—”

  “Talk to her now. She’ll hear you. I’ll give you a few minutes. Call me if there’s a change.” Ralph pressed his lips to Rosie’s forehead, then grabbed his coffee and walked out, leaving Astrid with her mother.

  For a long moment, Astrid simply stared at Rosie. She didn’t know what to say. How could she apologize for a lifetime of not appreciating her own mother in two minutes? Tears burned in her eyes, and she tentatively reached for her mother’s hand again. “Mom.” Her voice cracked and she had to clear her throat. “Mom,” she tried again. “I just want you to know that I love you. I always did, and I know you did the best you could for me.”

  There was no response, and Astrid gripped the bony hand more tightly. Her mother was only forty-seven. Forty-seven. And her life was over? How was that possible? It was so unfair. Astrid swallowed. “So, Ralph seems nice. It seems like he loves you—” She paused when she saw the wedding ring on her mother’s hand.

  It had a tiny diamond, no bigger than the head of a pin, and a plain wedding band. Her mother had always had huge diamonds, even if they were low quality. Anything to parade around and show the world she belonged to someone. To have such a plain ring meant one thing: Ralph hadn’t had money to offer her mother. He’d had only love, and that had been enough for Rosie.

  After eight marriages, countless men and a lifetime of being on the run, her mother had finally married for love. “Mom,” she whispered, her heart filling. “I’m happy you found him.” But even as the words left her mouth, she realized the tragedy of it. Her mom had found love too late. Death had come just when she’d found her place. “Dammit,” she said. “That’s not fair!”

  Tears burned in her eyes and she bowed her head, pressing her mom’s palm to her forehead. God, to feel her mother’s hand on her again, it was too much. It was like she was a child again, feeling sick, and her mom would test her for fever. “Don’t die,” she whispered. “Please don’t die. I’m so sorry that I never appreciated you. I’m so sorry I got mad at you. You were right about Paul. I lost the baby, and he left me.” The words began to tumble out, hundreds of confessions and emotions she’d held so tightly for so long. “I’m pregnant,” she finally whispered. “If everything goes okay, you’ll have a grandbaby.” She started to cry. “I wish that it could meet you, and see what a brave woman its grandma is.”

  She realized then that her mom hadn’t been crazy or irresponsible. Her mom truly had been brave, fighting the world for Astrid and for herself, trying to make a living as best she could. She’d managed to find her way in a world that didn’t favor women who didn’t have an education or a background or a family to help them. Astrid was the weak one. She was the one who had lived in constant fear of bad things, of the world disapproving, of someone rejecting her. She was the one who had hidden from life, while Rosie had embraced it and gallivanted through it, finding pleasure and happiness wherever she could. “Dammit,” she said. “I love you, Mom. I’m not ready to do this alone.”

  Her mother suddenly sucked in a breath, and her body lurched. “Mom!”

  Ralph rushed into the room, his coffee spilling on the floor. “What happened? What’s going on?”

  “I think she’s waking up. She just took a deep breath.” Astrid clenched her mom’s hand. “Mom, come on.”

  “Rosie, baby.” Ralph took her mom’s other hand and bent his head, sinking into his chair. “I love you, sweet girl. I’ll always love you. You wait for me in heaven, because I’ll be coming for you.”

  Astrid grabbed Ralph. “What are you doing? Don’t encourage her to die—”

  He ignored her as her mother’s body lurched again. “Have a safe journey, Rosie. I’ll always be with you.”

  Astrid suddenly realized what was happening. Her mother wasn’t waking up. Her mother was dying. Right then. Right there. In front of her. Her spirit was leaving her body. “Mom!” Astrid threw her arms around her mother. “I love you! Please don’t leave. You have to stay!”

  Her mother’s body lurched once more, and then she went still, and all the air seemed to leave her.

  “She’s gone,” Ralph said softly, laying his hand over her heart. Tears were streaming down his face as he pressed his lips to Rosie’s mouth. “Rest in peace, my love. You deserve it.”

  Astrid felt her soul crumble as she listened to Ralph’s beautiful words. She realized then that there was no place for her in the room. Ralph deserved his moment with Rosie. He was the one who had clearly, finally, loved her mother for who she was.

  She stumbled back from the bed. “I’ll get a nurse,” she whispered.

  Ralph didn’t look up from Rosie as he continued to sob for the loss of the woman he loved.

  Astrid made her way to the door and then turned back as she reached it. Something sparkled around her mother’s throat, and Astrid realized it was one of the necklaces she had designed. It was one that was two intertwined hearts. Her mother had died wearing Astrid’s necklace. And suddenly she knew that her mother had forgiven her, that the love had not died, that their hearts had always been intertwined even when they’d been apart. Astrid pressed her hand to her heart. “I love you too, Mom. Rest in peace.”

  As she said the words, the room suddenly seemed to brighten. Just for a split second, and then the lights faded again. Her mom’s final farewell.

  Astrid made it out of the room, but before she reached the nurse’s station, pain shot through her belly. Gasping, she pressed her hands to her stomach, and stumbled. She made it another two feet, and then she collapsed.

  *

  Jason lean
ed against the door of his son’s room, watching him sleep. They’d spent almost two hours in the night woods, and it had been the best two hours he’d spent in a long time. It had brought back memories of his own childhood, and he’d had the best damn time.

  This was why he’d moved to Maine.

  Shit, it felt good to get something right.

  But as he turned away, the darkness of the hallway caught his attention. The other bedrooms were empty, his own room silent. The only activity was the hum of the television in the den downstairs where his parents were watching the news.

  Shit.

  It wasn’t enough.

  Jason jogged down the stairs and ducked out past the den. He loped across the lawn to the carriage house. The front door was ajar, and he pushed it open. “Astrid?”

  There was no answer from within, and alarm shot through him. “Astrid!” He flicked on the light and walked inside.

  Cardboard boxes were stacked against the corner. She was moving again. Son of a bitch. She was leaving him.

  Shit. Why hadn’t he been able to get her to stay? What the fuck was he doing wrong?

  “She’s leaving you.”

  Jason didn’t turn around at the sound of his father’s voice, somehow not surprised that his father had followed him out to the carriage house. “Apparently.”

  “I left your mom when you were two years old.”

  Jason turned sharply. His father was leaning against the door frame, his arms folded loosely over his chest. “What?”

  “It was too much pressure to be a father and a husband. I bailed.”

  “That makes no sense.” Jason stared at his father, trying to grasp the words. “You guys have the best marriage.”

  “Yeah, now we do.” His dad walked in and sat down on the couch. “It wasn’t easy, though. She wanted more from me than I knew how to give. I wasn’t that different from Kate back then. That’s why I reacted the way I did when you brought Kate home. I used to be the way she was, so I knew instantly what kind of person she was.”

  Jason studied his father. “So what changed? When did you get into the dad thing?”

  “Your mom did it. She loved me anyway. She said I was okay the way I was, and I could be how I wanted to be. It took all the pressure off, so I came back.” He grinned. “As it turned out, the family and dad thing was okay after all.” He pointed at Jason. “You blew it with Kate, you know. Your mom blames her, but it was you.”

  Jason pulled his shoulders back. “I know that.”

  “Do you?” His dad raised his brows. “You didn’t accept what she was able to give. You saw her as less because she didn’t fit your ideal. She knew she fell short, and she retreated. The further she retreated, the more you pressured her and found her inadequate. You pushed her away because you couldn’t accept her for who she was, and you couldn’t take responsibility for your own vision.”

  Jason narrowed his eyes. “I never stopped loving her.”

  “That’s not the same thing,” his dad said. “You can love the hell out of someone, but not accept them. It’s different, and it’s brutal as hell to do that to someone.”

  Jason clenched his jaw. “What’s your point?”

  “You’re doing the same thing with Astrid.”

  Fury poured through him. “No, I’m not. I think she’s amazing the way she is.”

  “Do you? Or do you think she’s amazing because you think she’ll do something for you? She’ll give you a kid. She’ll bring love and passion into your life. She’ll be a mother for Noah. That’s why you like her, Jason.”

  Jason narrowed his eyes. “What the hell’s wrong with that?”

  “You should be thinking about what you can give to her, no matter who she turns out to be. That’s when you have a chance.”

  “Of course I think about that. She deserves to feel safe and secure—”

  “Then give it to her,” Mack said. “Truly give it to her.” He stood up. “Your mom and I have an early night planned. Do me a favor and don’t come back in for an hour or so.” He grinned. “You might be shocked at what you hear.”

  Jason started laughing at his dad’s tone. “Jesus, Dad. I don’t want to hear that.”

  “Then don’t come back for a while.” His dad raised his brows. “Or are you going back to the store tonight? How’s that going?”

  Jason ran his hand through his hair. “Not so well.”

  His dad nodded. “Let me know if you need help.”

  “I’m naming it after my son,” Jason said softly. “I’m not calling it Mack’s Pizza.”

  Mack raised his brows. “Instead of naming it after the child who died, why don’t you name it after the one you still have left? The one who wants you to notice that he’s still around? Ever think of that?” And with that, he walked out, slamming the door shut behind him.

  “See him? Of course I see Noah—” But his dad was already gone, obviously not interested in Jason’s reply.

  Jason stared after him. Name the store after Noah? It made sense, but at the same time, how could he let go of Lucas? There was so little to hold the boy’s spirit alive and he was slipping away day by day. Naming the store after him made sense.

  But he could see the point in naming it after Noah as well.

  Shit.

  He paced to the window and leaned his palms against the frame, moodily staring out at the lake. His fingers brushed against cool metal, and he looked down to see a wire twisted into the shape of a heart. Two hearts, intertwined. The work was delicate and intricate, but it had an unfinished quality to it.

  He turned and saw Astrid’s work station, the place that meant so much to her. Frowning, he walked over to it and sat at the table. On the desk were drawings of dragonflies, ones he was sure were from today with his son. He picked one up, and swore softly. Her talent was indescribable. The magic with which she brought the colors of its wings to life was extraordinary. Stunned, Jason began to sift through her other designs.

  He found a page of baby charms: baby shoes, a rattle, a teddy bear. All of them were drawn with such warmth and love he felt his heart tighten. Astrid had poured every emotion she had into the drawings, and he could practically feel the page vibrating with them. This was the woman who thought she didn’t have love to give?

  Another page had drawings of a phoenix, a glorious red and gold bird with tremendous feathery plumes. His heart literally stopped for a split second when he saw it, he was so stunned by the intensity of it. A single, golden tear was falling from its eye, leaving a red trail over its golden feathers. Its feet were consumed with flames, and they were falling in black ash to the ground. The agony in the bird’s face was evident, so stark and raw it was chilling. There was no triumph for the bird, no indication that it was ever going to rise from the ashes and be reborn.

  This phoenix was dying, and anyone looking at it would know it.

  That was how Astrid saw the phoenix? Not as rebirth, but as death?

  Sadness coursed through him and he turned to the next page, where the phoenix had become nothing but a pile of ashes. A few feathers scattered about, drifting as if an arid breeze was trying to blow them away. On top of the pile sat a silver chain, two hearts entwined. Death to love? To a partnership? To her child? The page was so stark and bare. No hope. No life. Just the end. Just hopelessness. Just a lack of a future.

  Mesmerized, Jason leaned back, studying the design. He felt the agony of the bird. He knew what it was like. He knew it. And suddenly, he understood what Eppie had been telling him, what his father had been trying to tell him.

  He was so consumed with his failings, with the past that had destroyed his family, that he saw the future only as ashes.

  He had to let go. Of Kate. Of Lucas. Of his guilt.

  No wonder Astrid had bailed on him. She was the smart one, the one who knew that it wasn’t her job to fill the wound in his heart.

  It was his.

  He took the picture of the dying phoenix and folded it up as he headed toward the
door. He strode over to his car and climbed in. The engine revved smoothly as Jason peeled out of the driveway.

  Ten minutes later he pulled up in front of his store, shining his lights on the sign above the door. “Lucas’s Pizza.” For a long moment, Jason stared at it, then he got out of the car and walked over to it. He grabbed a drill from inside the store, and then carefully began to remove the sign from the front of the building.

  The heavy wood fell hard as the final screw came loose, and it crashed to the ground with a loud crack that split the sign in half, right through his son’s name. Pain jabbed through his chest as he watched his son’s legacy splinter into pieces, the golden letters torn apart by the force of the impact.

  Jason went down on one knee and picked up the top left corner, which still had the L and part of the U. The wood was cold and sharp in his hand. Inanimate and dead, just as his son was. As he held that crappy piece of wood in his hand, he realized that it had done nothing to bring his son back, or to help him heal. He didn’t need a sign to hold Lucas in his heart, but there was another child, a six-year-old boy, who might need a sign to make the place his.

  His heart feeling lighter than it had in years, but also heavier, Jason stacked the wood on the curb for the garbage truck. He backed away from the pile and bowed his head. “Good-bye, Lucas. It’s time for you to go.” He blew his son a kiss, then turned and walked into his store.

  He headed straight toward the back to where he knew he’d stashed an extra piece of plywood. He grabbed a Sharpie from the register as he passed by, and it took only a few minutes to make a new sign.

  Noah’s Place.

  A sense of rightness filled him as he stepped back to look at it. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Noah would be psyched. It was right. Then, on a whim, Jason added a dragonfly in each corner. One for Noah, one for himself, one for Astrid and one for the baby. Yeah, that was good—

  His phone buzzed in his pocket. Who would be calling him at this hour? He quickly pulled the phone out of his pocket and saw Astrid’s name flashing on the display. His adrenaline leapt through him and he quickly answered. “Astrid! Where are you? You can’t leave. We need to talk. I’m not giving up on us—”