Page 15 of Love, Always and Forever
He didn’t know whether to hope she took his advice or that she’d reject it. Her eyes flared wide. “I don’t want to tell you to leave, but I think that maybe I’d better.”
“Smart woman.”
Even so, one more quick kiss wouldn’t hurt, would it? He kept it easy and friendly, pressing his lips to her forehead, knowing the temptation of her mouth would only further weaken his resolve.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You will?”
He laughed. “Have you forgotten the fence?”
“Oops, yeah, I did. Knock on the door when you want to get started. I’m always up early.”
So was he, but he suspected they weren’t talking about the same thing at all. He retrieved the bags containing their peach cobbler. Holding out hers, he said, “Sleep well and enjoy your breakfast.”
“I will. Good night, Mikhail.”
He waited until she’d disappeared inside the house and locked the door before walking away. All things considered, maybe it would be a good idea to bring in some reinforcements to help out on the fence tomorrow. Extra hands would make the work go faster, but that wasn’t why he was going to call his brothers. He needed the buffer they’d provide between him and Amy.
She needed that, too, even if she didn’t know it. The last thing a woman with such innocent eyes needed was to tangle up her life with a man who had seen and done so many ugly things.
Inside, he sat on the side of his bed and held a small picture in his hands. It was the only one he had of his birth mother. The photographer hadn’t caught her at her best, but Mikhail didn’t care. The photo was a reminder of who he was and where he’d come from.
“Mom, I still miss you.”
He used to imagine he could still hear her voice, and the way she spoke English with an accent that hinted at origins somewhere in Eastern Europe. She’d never once told him anything about where she’d come from or how she’d ended up living on the other side of the world from where she’d been born. He’d been too young to ask such questions, especially when there were some others that were far more important.
Like where was the rent money going to come from this month? Had she remembered to buy enough food for both of them or had she spent it all on her next fix? Who was his father and why didn’t the man care enough about his son to meet him at least once?
Stupid questions, ones that had haunted Mikhail long before that last day, the one when he came home from school to find her dead with a needle in her arm. That brought up other, even uglier questions. Had she gotten ahold of some bad drugs or had the overdose been deliberate? If so, what had he done to make her want to escape this life and leave her son behind? As always, he wondered if he’d stayed home from school to watch over her that day just as he had so many times before, would she still be alive?
He closed his eyes and then opened them to stare at the mug shot one last time before putting it back in his dresser drawer. It still wasn’t a good picture, but it was better than the one in his head of her lifeless body.
Time to make that call to see if at least one of his brothers could come keep him company tomorrow.
