Happy New Year, Baby Read online

  She’d love a rum and coke, but the baby made that out of the question.

  Instead, she rummaged through cabinets for the teakettle, finding it wedged between the food processor and bread maker she never used. The kettle was dusty, so she crossed the few feet to the sink, enjoying the mundane task of washing it clean.

  She shivered when blessedly warm water coated her hands.

  If only she could as easily clear her mind of the swirling guilt.

  The night Brandon died, she’d worried about the safety of ice climbing with precious cargo, but every online article promised exercise was good for her and her baby. When Brody told Brandon the ice was bad, she should have insisted they stay home, but he’d been adamant that they go. How many ways might she have stopped the trip? She could have been just as persuasive that they attend Christmas Eve services at the chapel, then go to his parents’. She could have told him about the baby early. She could have…

  With the water still running, she dropped the copper kettle, clanging, into the stainless-steel sink. Tears flowed, swelling into wracking sobs she’d been too private to release in front of family and friends.

  Why? Why was this happening?

  Was losing her husband so young a cosmic punishment? She’d already been orphaned as a child. Hadn’t that been punishment enough?

  When the tears slowed enough for her to catch her breath, she looked up.

  Beyond the kitchen window, a light glowed through the bedroom window in Brody’s garage apartment. Brody. If there was anyone on earth who understood the depth of her pain, it would be him.

  Summoning the wherewithal to turn off the water, then dry her hands on a dishtowel, Lilianna abandoned the kettle in favor of finding her coat. On a mission, she shoved her stockinged feet into heavy snow boots—not bothering to lace them.

  Brody would know what to do.

  Outside, cold hit her like a wall that she busted through.

  Choppy exhalations wreathed her face in dark clouds that matched her mood.

  She crossed the blacktop drive and mounted the side stairs leading to the space that had been intended for guests. But Brandon had asked his brother to stay as a favor. When Brandon and Lilianna had traveled, it was nice knowing Brody was there, keeping an eye on things.

  Upon reaching the small porch, Lilianna knocked.

  Only there was no answer.

  In her rush to escape the house’s yawning void, she’d dashed out without a hat or gloves or even buttoning her coat. She now shivered. Teeth chattering, she knocked again. “Brody! I know you’re in there. You can’t avoid me forever like you did at the funeral!”

  But apparently, he could…

  Chapter Four

  MINUTE AFTER AGONIZING minute passed. Head bowed, Lilianna turned for the stairs when the door opened.

  “Lili?” Brody’s voice sounded raspy with sleep. Her husband’s identical twin stood bare-chested in the half-open door wearing nothing but flannel PJ bottoms and a five ‘o clock shadow that had grown way past ten p.m. His face—her husband’s dear face—shattered her heart. “What’s up?” He fingered his already messy hair. “Everything okay at your place?”

  She nodded, but then hot tears flowed, and she shook her head. “N-nothing’s ever going to be okay. H-how can he really be gone?”

  Without a word, he stepped back, welcoming her inside, against him, wrapping her in a one-armed hug while closing the door. Cocooned against him, he held her and rocked her until her tears subsided. He smelled so good—a mix of his own unique woody blend mixed with the faint familiarity of Brandon. The two had been identical down to their scents. Brody felt warm and strong and solid. So very solid. She desperately needed his strength. Only when they finally parted did she find he’d been crying, too.

  “Guess we both lost our world?” she said.

  He nodded. “Want coffee? A beer?”

  “Beer, please. But never mind. You were sleeping. I should go.”

  “It’s cool. Give me your coat. I’ll grab a couple brews—oops, I guess because of the baby you need a bottled water.”

  “Good grief. I’d almost forgotten.” After passing him her coat, she sank onto the gently-used floral sofa—a castoff from his mom. As his banker, she knew he could afford a new one, but he’d long ago explained he liked the model he’d grown up with. Secretly, she did, too. Running her hand along the frayed armrest, she closed her eyes and saw Brandon leaning in for a kiss.

  “Here you go.”

  She opened her eyes to see the love of her life—only the trick was again on her.

  Would always be on her.

  Brandon and Brody were almost identical, but knowing them as well as she did, Lilianna knew Brody’s right cheek sported a chickenpox scar. His laugh was deeper. He walked with a slow confidence in his physical strength. An almost swagger. Brandon had been in good health, but as a doctor, he’d excelled in a mental arena. Both brothers tackled the life and death situations everyone else feared. Typically, they’d come out winners. Until this time. She assumed that was why Brody’s normally straight shoulders hunched, as if he’d caved beneath the weight of his woes.

  “Thanks.” She took the water that he’d already opened.

  Brody sat on the opposite end of the sofa.

  “To Brandon…” She held out her plastic bottle for Brody to clink, but he merely narrowed his gaze, shaking his head before downing half his brew. “You can’t toast your brother?”

  “Too soon.” He finished his beer, then left the sofa, presumably to grab another. “I’m pissed—not just at him, but all of us. We each played our own special roles. I should have been more insistent neither of you were strong enough climbers. You should have told him about the baby right away. Hell—Mom should have cajoled the three of us into staying at her place for the traditional seafood feast, then laughing our asses off to Christmas Vacation while playing Trivial Pursuit. Brandon’s the biggest culprit of us all. The only thing bigger than his head was his pride.”

  “Stop…” She was crying again, rocking forward, squeezing her bottle tight enough for it to crumple. “W-why do you have to be so cruel?”

  “How am I cruel if what I’m saying is true?” He finished his second beer. Rising, he raised the empty to her with a leering grin. “Drink up. The night is young. And hey—it’s New Year’s Eve.”

  “You’re an ass.”

  “True story—only not enough of one to keep my brother from dying.” He left her for the kitchen. She heard the bottle clink into the glass recycling bin. Then the fridge door opened and closed.

  When he didn’t come back, Lilianna went to him.

  In the dark, he stood hunched over the kitchen sink, staring beyond the paned window at a glorious show of northern lights. They were always pretty, but this time, undulating curtains of neon green put on quite a show. If she’d been the sentimental sort, she might have believed that was her husband, still showboating in Heaven.

  Eyeing the paper towels hanging from a rack, she plucked one off, using it to blow her nose and dry her eyes. “Sorry,” she said after a long exhale. “For tonight, Brandon had me book a room in Anchorage. A few of the guys from his department were hosting a party. Colby was flying us over. Brandon had accepted the invitation months ago. We had a blowout fight. My boss asked me to plan both Christmas and New Year’s parties for our staff. When I told Brandon about it, he told me to cancel. His party was more politically important to him one day being appointed Chief of Staff. He wanted to move to Anchorage full-time. Your parents didn’t know.”

  After a snort, Brody said, “Sounds about right.”

  She leaned on the cool granite counter alongside him, sharing in the wondrous view. “I’m sorry about my freak-out. You nailed your assessment of all of us shouldering part of the blame. But this afternoon, at the funeral, I got the impression you had accepted the bulk.”

  “It’s… whatever.”

  “No, Brody, it’s not.” Cupping her hand to his shoulder, mortifie
d to find herself craving the familiarity of his touch, she said, “Look at me.”

  He finally did.

  “I'm as much to blame—maybe more—than you. I had no business being on that ice under any circumstances, let alone when pregnant. I selfishly wanted Brandon to be proud of me. I thought it would be a thrill to tell him—you—about the baby after all three of us tackled the climb. I was so glad we were all friends again. When we announced our engagement—”

  “Don’t. I was happy for you both.”

  “No, you weren’t. It’s just me and you, Brody. We both remember that kiss.”

  “We were sixteen. It meant nothing.”

  “It could have meant everything. But as usual, you let Brandon win.”

  “He was my big brother.”

  “By four minutes.”

  “You were always his girl. Whole damn town knew it.”

  “It was never official. Not until after that night.”

  “Why are we rehashing ancient history? Does any of that even matter?”

  “No…” She hung her head. “Guess not. But you have to know I’ve missed you. Before I became a prize to be won or lost between you, you and I were close. With the baby, I’m going to need you now more than ever. I can’t be a single parent. That wasn’t ever part of my plan.” Cupping her hands over her still flat tummy, she whispered, “I’m not even sure how to be a mom.”

  “You’re going to be a great mom.”

  She wished she felt the same. “A mom who almost drank a beer because I forgot I was pregnant.

  “It’s been an awful day and your baby’s the size of a flea. Could’ve happened to anyone.”

  But it hadn’t. Would she ever feel confident or happy or anticipate anything ever again? Before losing Brandon, she’d been thrilled about her pregnancy. Now, all she felt was the black hole of an uncertain future. Until Brandon’s death, she’d never realized the full extent of just how much of her life revolved around him. Sure, she had her job at the bank, but that wouldn’t hold her on cold nights. Besides, after the baby was born, she’d planned on quitting her job to stay home.

  She wanted to be a full-time mom.

  “Remember that New Year’s,” Brody asked, “when I was on leave and you and Brandon were home from college?”

  She nodded with a faint smile. “Brandon wanted a bonfire—but not just any fire. The biggest, baddest fire Kodiak Gorge had ever seen.”

  “He came damned close to setting the whole town on fire. He was good about that—taking the ordinary and making it extraordinary…”

  “Just one of the things I loved about him.”

  “You did love him?”

  “How can you even ask?”

  “Sorry. Stupid question.”

  “It’s okay. And please know I don’t expect you to jump in and be a surrogate dad. Earlier? When I begged for your help, that was my grief and pregnancy hormones having their first official meeting.”

  “I get it.”

  She nodded and he nodded and then they both migrated to the kitchen table, sharing a bag of stale trail mix and stories of their shared lives with Brandon that made them both laugh and cry.

  The cuckoo clock she’d brought him from Switzerland chimed eleven, and then twelve.

  “Should we at least turn on the TV to watch the ball drop?” he asked.

  “Might sound selfish,” she said, “but I don't think my heart could stand seeing other people happy.”

  He shifted his hand closer to hers, as if planning to cover it, but then backed away. In another selfish move, she secretly wished he hadn’t. Brody was the closest thing to her husband she’d ever again have. She desperately craved his comfort. His reassurance that everything would somehow, someday, once again be okay. “I feel the same.”

  “Good.” She forced a misty-eyed smile. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

  “Totally. Except for one…” Leaning forward, he sent a pleasant shockwave of warmth and mixed emotions surging through her when he pressed his palm to her belly, whispering, “Happy New Year, baby. Sorry, but I may not be around as much as your mommy may like.”

  “What do you mean?” Lilianna held her hand over his until she realized the inappropriateness of her actions. This was her husband’s brother. No matter how much Brody may look like Brandon, he wasn’t. Tragically, her wounded heart could no longer tell the difference. “Where are you going?”

  “After the funeral, an old buddy called to give his condolences. He also made me an offer.”

  “What kind of offer?” Her gaze narrowed.

  “Crab fishing. On the Bering Sea.”

  “Have you lost your ever-loving mind?” Any softness she’d felt for him dissolved in a fit of fury. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe?”

  Chapter Five

  Almost twelve months later…

  LILIANNA JIGGLED THREE-MONTH-OLD baby Brandon on one knee while precariously balancing her purse on the other. She was beyond fortunate that her boss welcomed her bringing her son to the office—there was even an on-site daycare. All afternoon “Donny” had been fitful and while she was no expert, the fact that his tiny teeth had grazed her a few times while breastfeeding alerted her to the fact that the poor little guy was teething. Somewhere in her purse was his new whale-themed teething ring, she just had to—

  Splat.

  Thank goodness it was her purse that toppled instead of the baby.

  “Ruh roh…” Her playful tone wasn’t exactly in keeping with the serious nature of her job, but since she wasn’t with a customer, she slid off her desk chair, sinking onto her knees. Holding out her chubby cherub, she blew a raspberry on his tummy. “Mommy made a mess. Are you going to help clean?”

  He grinned and cooed.

  “That’s what I thought. You’re the boss and I’m your worker bee, right?”

  His drooling smile melted her heart. How was it possible to be this much in love?

  Months earlier, the question would have brought instant tears, but the more time passed, the more she’d learned to be grateful for the enchanted years she’d shared with her baby’s father. And for the ultimate gift of his son.

  Another coo earned him a tickle.

  “Does that mean you agree? That you are the boss?”

  “I thought I was the boss?” A rap sounded on her open office door, then the bank owner’s son, Trace Stanton, strolled in. Sizing up her situation, he asked, “Want me to clean or hold your big fella?”

  “Bless you.” Not exactly keen on the thought of her boss scooping up tampons and her tooth floss, she held out her son.

  “You’ve for sure packed on pounds.” Trace feigned weakness when nothing could be further from the truth. His antics earned him a drooling grin. “And you’re going to mess up my tie.”

  “Sorry. There are tissues on my desk. He’s started teething.”

  “No worries. You know I’m always here for you—and Mr. Donny.”

  “Thanks.” It was the worst kept secret in town that Trace had been quietly, sweetly, jockeying for her favor. After Thanksgiving, he’d invited her to attend the opening of the town’s first movie theater. Since she’d written up the financing, of course she’d agreed, assuming it was a business function. Only when he tried kissing her had she politely told him she wasn’t ready—for kissing or dating or anything other than work and the sometimes-overwhelming task of singlehandedly raising her son. Since then, he’d been kind, but never inappropriate. He had let her know that when she was ready, he’d be waiting.

  Returning the mess to her purse only took a moment, then she was back on her feet. “Ready for me to take him?”

  “I’m good.” Trace sat in one of the two guest chairs facing her desk. “But I’m afraid I’ve got bad news.”

  “Oh?” She stashed her purse in her desk’s bottom left drawer. “Did the McKlendons appraisal not go high enough?” She turned to her computer, finishing the last few entries on the report she�
��d been working on.

  “This is serious…”

  She froze, raising her gaze to his. “Is there something off with my performance? Am I getting fired?”

  “Lord, no.” He laughed, but then sobered. “Dad and I depend on you far too much to ever think of letting you leave—let alone, making you. This has to do with Brody.”

  “I-is he okay?” Now, it wasn’t just her fingers stopped, but her heart. New Year’s Eve was the last time she’d seen him. Aside from a few emails and a birthday card for his mother, he’d barely been in touch. Now, it was almost Christmas and every Sunday after church when Lilianna went to dinner at his parents’, Kitty grew more despondent about her MIA son.

  Lilianna grew more pissed.

  What was wrong with Brody? How dare he hurt his mother this way? Hadn’t she been through enough in losing Brandon? Essentially, she’d now lost her second son, too.

  “I don’t even know how to say this.” Trace jiggled Donny on his knee. “The last thing I want is to—”

  “Please,” she snapped. “Spit it out. Sorry. Brody’s vanishing act has already hurt his parents—” me “—so much, that…”

  “I understand.” His tone held the warmth and support that should have made her heart sing, but sadly didn’t. He really was a wonderful man. “Before you and Brandon became official, you were the three amigos.” He gazed down, skimming the baby’s downy dark hair. “Even though I was a couple grades ahead of you, I used to envy what you shared. That kind of ride or die bond. To have Brody take off like he did after you’d just lost your husband… I can’t even imagine. You needed him, and he wasn’t there.”

  Exactly.

  “Just remember… When—if—the time comes when you need me, I’ll always be here.”

  Her eyes welled. “How has some lucky woman not already snatched you up?”

  “Funny thing about that,” he said with a sad chuckle. “Living in Alaska, there aren’t all that many women to choose from.”

  “Aw…” She left her chair, rounding her desk for a friendly hug. “One of these days, I’m going to be sitting at your wedding, kicking myself for not having taken you up on your offer.”