After making sure that Brianna was asleep, she’d opened another letter and read it sitting up in bed. Written about six weeks after the previous one, the letter, a single page—had hit so hard that the words still burned in Allison’s memory.
My dearest Burke,
Thank you for coming home, even though you couldn’t stay long. I told you I was fine. I told you I’d recovered from the loss of our baby—that I was moving on. I wanted it to be the truth. But I lied.
Two days ago I walked out onto the end of the long pier and stood there for half an hour trying to make myself jump off into the deep water. Brianna was at Tricia’s—I knew she’d be safe. And I felt that no one else would miss me, not even you. But then Captain found me. I knew that if I jumped, he would go after me, and maybe drown himself trying to save me. In the end, I couldn’t do it. But I wanted to. I still want to. I feel utterly joyless. I cry myself to sleep every night.
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sp; Today I called the pastor at our church. He has referred me to a weekly support group. I’ll be going for the first time tonight. I can only hope that sharing with others will help me grieve.
No need to come home again. You don’t need to see me like this. Just know that you and Brianna are my life, and I am doing my best to find my way back to you.
K.
The memory of that letter raised a lump in Allison’s throat. Kate hadn’t been made of steel. She was flesh and blood, and she had suffered terribly. But somehow she’d made it through the darkness, to face the end of her short life with serenity and spirit. She was strong in a deeply human way that Allison could only admire and envy.
And Burke? Surely he’d loved her. But had he known how to show it? Had he even tried to understand her? Had he wanted to be there for her, or had he taken the easy way out, leaving her to depend on her own strength and find her own wisdom?
By lunchtime, Brianna was awake and hungry. They pulled onto an off-ramp, filled up on drive-in food, and continued on their way, this time with Brianna in the passenger seat.
“Are you going to let me see Liam?” she asked.
“Something tells me I wouldn’t be able to stop you. So I might as well say yes,” Allison said. “Have you told your father about him?”
“Yes—not that it did any good. When Dad heard that Liam dropped out of school and works as a mechanic, he threw a fit.”
“Your dad wants the best for you, that’s all.”
“Liam is the best. He’s kind and smart and honest, and he works hard. He wants to have his own garage someday.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Allison said. “Why don’t I take the two of you out to a nice dinner tonight? I’d like to meet Liam and get to know him for myself. Would that be all right?”
“Sure,” Brianna said. “There’s a good Italian place close to where we’ll be staying. I’ll text Liam and make sure he can make it.”
Her fingers flew over the surface of her phone. “Yes!” she exclaimed. “He’ll meet us there at seven. You’ll like him, I guarantee it!”
She fell into silence. When Allison glanced her way a few minutes later, she was plugged into her phone, absorbed in texting.
By six fifteen they’d reached Evanston, a northern extension of Chicago that sprawled along the shore of Lake Michigan. They checked into their motel in time to change and clean up for dinner.
As they headed for the door, Brianna glanced at her phone. “Liam’s already there. He’s saving a booth for us.”
Score one for Liam, Allison thought. She found herself wanting to like Brianna’s boyfriend. But the responsibility to protect Burke’s daughter lay heavy on her. She hadn’t come here to make friends.
A few minutes later they walked into the restaurant. Rustic booths and tables, a college-age crowd, and the aroma of good Italian food—the place took Allison back to the years when she was married to Kevin and waiting tables to keep a roof over their heads while he pursued his movie career. It hadn’t been an easy time, but being young and in love had had its moments.
The man who rose from a nearby booth to greet them was beautiful in a wild, masculine way that would stir any girl’s heart. He reminded Allison of Kevin—not that they looked alike, but he had the same grace, the same air of charm. But if he turned out to be like Kevin in other ways, Brianna was headed for heartbreak.
Proceed with caution, she warned herself as Brianna made the introductions.
“Brianna tells me you’re a mechanic,” Allison said after they’d given the server their orders.
“Not just a mechanic,” Brianna said. “Tell her, Liam.”
“I specialize in vintage and foreign cars,” Liam said after a modest pause. “Like today, I replaced the clutch on a ’53 Aston Martin. The hardest thing about it was finding authentic parts—that goes along with the job. It’s a privilege to work on a beautiful old car like that. I could almost do it for nothing.” His smile showed a dimple. “But of course, I don’t.”
“Liam’s work brings the shop lots of clients,” Brianna said. “But he’s saving up to start his own business. He lives over the garage where he works, and he doesn’t even own a car. He rides his Harley everywhere. That’s because most of what he makes goes into the bank.”