Page 58 of Come to Me

The next days Patrick made a point to savor every moment. He was certain they’d become memories of a favorite time in life, and he wanted to make sure he seared the moments into his brain. Not just the intimate moments with Michaela, but all the moments. The work to prepare the cabins. The meals he started having with her parents. Making Fourth of July decorations with Tate. Tate's infectious energy and Michaela's playful banter kept Patrick engaged in the now, not thinking of the days and years of drudgery to come.

One afternoon, when they finished painting patriotic rocks, Michaela pulled out materials to make pinwheels.

“That looks hard.” Tate pouted as Michaela explained the process.

“Luckily not’s not hard.”

As they worked, Patrick observed Michaela's gentle patience and the way she encouraged Tate's creativity. Her genuine care for her nephew touched Patrick, reminding him of the importance of family. There’d been a time when he thought he’d have a family of his own. Would it have been like this? Lovely summer afternoons making crafts? Activities along the shores of a lake? Late night skinny dips with his wife followed by slow love making?

“Look! I did it!” Tate held up his pinwheel, the spokes catching in the gentle breeze, causing it to turn. Michaela swept him into a hug, her laughter ringing out across the lake. Patrick watched, mesmerized by the tender scene, his heart swelling with emotion, a yearning for what he couldn’t have.

"Can I make another one?” Tate bounced on the bench of the picnic table.

“Absolutely. How about you, Patrick?” Michaela smiled at him in that way that was a mixture of happy and flirty.

“I don’t know if I can do it as well as, Tate here, but I’ll try.”

“I’ll show you, Dr. Patrick.” Tate jumped down from his spot and moved next to him.

He let Tate guide him until he had something close to a pinwheel.

“You did it too. Look Aunt Micki.”

“Dr. Patrick is full of hidden skills.” She winked at him.

She was doing it again. Being sexy when it wasn’t the time. He cleared his throat and drank some of the lemonade he had with him.

They continue to craft and discuss the activities and games for the big event. He hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, but he’d never done crafts or games for the Forth of July. He was sure his mother would think the whole thing was beneath her. He realized that his mother, a revered child psychologist who helped families didn’t have the first clue of what really made families work.

When the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting the lake in a golden glow, Michaela turned to Patrick with a mischievous gleam in her eye. "I think it's time for a swim, don't you?" She toed off her shoes.

Patrick hesitated, memories of their previous intimate encounters stirring within him. He glanced at Tate. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea.”

“I wanna swim.” Tate jumped down from the table. “I’ll go get my suit on.” He was off like a shot.

Michaela walked down the steps to the edge of the lake. “Come on.” She stripped off her sundress, revealing a vibrant red swimsuit that hugged her curves. His breath caught in his throat as she waded into the water, diving under when it was deep enough.

Moments later, Tate was running across the sane, his youthful energy propelling him into the lake with a mighty splash. Patrick watched them, wanting to be a part of them and at the same time, feeling like he needed distance. How would he ever survive if he continued to find himself tethered closer to them?

"What are you waiting for, Dr. Patrick?” Michaela called to him. "The water's perfect!"

Patrick realized that if he didn’t grab on and live full throttle now, he’d have regrets. He pulled off his t-shirt and slipped off his loafers. He walked out into the cool water, feeling a sense of freedom he hadn't experienced in years. Michaela's infectious smile and Tate's delighted squeals washed away the melancholy of his future. They swam and splashed until Lori called them in for dinner. Tate zoomed back to the house. Patrick wondered how the boy had so much energy.

As Michaela slipped her dress back on, she said, "Well, that was fun.”

“It was.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Thank you for this."

Her eyes narrowed as she tilted her head. “For what?”

“This.” He couldn’t think of the words to explain how he was feeling. Instead, he went with instinct, leaning in, unable to resist the temptation of her lips.

She met his kiss, which was quick but potent. “I like how you say thank you.”

He smiled. “Maybe later I show my thorough appreciation.”

“You can count on it.”

The resort buzzed with excited energy as guests began to arrive for the Fourth of July festivities. Patrick hadn’t seen so many people or the level of activity needed to ensure their enjoyment since he’d arrived. Michaela and her family worked tirelessly to ensure everything was in order, greeting each visitor with warm smiles.

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