CHAPTER 7

John woke up with a start from a sound sleep to see bright sunlight filling Evangeline’s bedroom. He’d slept so soundly and deeply wrapped around her; he realized again that was part of her impact on him—he rested in her presence, she was peaceful on some basic level that calmed him. His inner demons backed down and let him be when he was with her. She was as good for him as she was to him. On his shoulders, chest and arms were reminders of where she had slept; tiny imprints from the necklace he hadn’t wanted her to remove as they made love again and again.

Her side of the bed was still slightly warm but he didn’t hear her in the bathroom. Getting up he went silently down the stairs, midway down his nostrils expanded with the scents of coffee mixed with traces of Evangeline. He came up behind her quietly and wrapped his arms around her, pressing himself into the curvy outline of backside seen through her robe.

"Morning," he mumbled, lifting her hair and pressing soft tickling kisses on her neck, "Did you sleep well?"

"Wonderfully, as always when I’m with you; do you have to rush off to work?"

"No rush, but I do have to get there."

She turned and handed him a cup of black coffee "Good, I flipped on the heat for the sunroom’s porch, lets sit out there. Do you want anything else for breakfast? I have muffins…"

"Low fat?" he asked making a face.

"Filled with fat and blueberries or cinnamon or cranberries."

"Great, I’ll warm up some for us, go sit."

Evangeline stretched out her legs as she rocked in her favorite rocking chair and set her coffee cup on a nearby table. Her hand went to her throat, amazed anew at John’s gift. She heard him come down the hall and step onto the porch, then he set a tray with muffins, toast, butter, preserves, coffee, cream and sugar on the table. "More coffee?" when she nodded he topped off her cup and then his own.

Evangeline put a piece of toast on her plate and then looked over at John, "Can we talk about the feelings stuff that you prefer to avoid?"

"About us?" he asked a quizzical expression on his face.

"No, Cris and what his return means to your load of guilt."

John groaned, "Not another Natalie talk, please."

Holding her temper Van poured him more coffee and pushed a warm muffin in his direction, "Not Natalie, Cris. Have you taken even ten minutes to think and process what his homecoming means to you? Not to whatever you and Natalie shared and share, bound in grief over lost loves—to you. You felt you had a hand in his murder and he’s not dead. Gone missing for a year and undoubtly it was a terrible year for him, but Cris is alive and with a chance for a life, possibly a happy life. Not the happy life he had planned on, but still. He’s alive to have a life. You need to release some of your pain over that situation."

"I cost him a year with his family and we don’t know what he’s endured."

"No, Tico and Flynn cost him. Flynn, apparently out of greed, let Cristian live since he was worth more as a work slave than whatever Tico paid Flynn to off him. Tico clearly knew about Antonio being his brother at least a year ago."

She reached over and stroked his cheek, "Honey, let it go. Let go of some of it, John. It just wasn’t all your fault. Tico plotted out Cris’ death, destroying Antonio, and maybe even marrying Jessica. If you hadn’t gotten Natalie and Cris to Vegas, Tico would’ve found another way to get them there. All out of your control, John, and done without any hint of fore knowledge on your part. You were a chess piece, not the instigator of the destruction of the happiness of so many people. Release it, please John, you just can’t carry much more of this. I know you can’t." Evangeline saw the guilt reaching out for John but for the first time saw it followed by him beginning to struggle against it, a tentative resistance.

"And for the record, I’m really not fazed by this version of friendship thing you have going with Natalie. She’s just both of our excuse to not totally lose ourselves in what’s between us. For various reasons we both resist our pull, neither of us wants to hurt or hurt each other. We use her as a friction point, we want to keep each other close but not go to the ultimate closeness. I can admit that now, can you?"

"Nothing worth discussing has ever happened with Natalie, I’ve told you that time and again." John said looking at her with a frown when she laughed outright.

"John, as far as you’re concerned nothing meaningful happened. I very much doubt that’s Natalie’s view, or her family’s for that matter. The point is I know the reality of what she is in your life, and Natalie is no threat to us. We’re just our own worst enemies to this relationship."

"That’s because no matter how we phrase it it’s not a casual, never was, never will be and to pretend otherwise is…a lie. Or I guess it’s more protecting ourselves and I don’t want to mess us up, Evangeline."

 

They were quiet for a while when Van spoke, "Ok, yes, I have huge abandonment issues; you were right about that last night. Because of my dad’s death but mostly because in my experience love doesn’t last, my parents loved each other but in the end it wasn’t enough, love…fades. Your parents were happily married, passionately in love until the day your father died and your mom continued to love him beyond death. Mine weren’t and it undid my mother on some fundamental level, she was never the same after the relationship unraveled and even with his death she’s never quite regained herself."

Evangeline looked out through the porch windows at the dead remnants of flowers and plants once so bright, full and alive just a few short months ago, "I’d like to say my loyalities swung back and forth but really they didn’t. I was always my father’s girl—but in the end it wasn’t enough and he left me, too. I know, I know, not by choice but emotions aren’t always rationale and controllable; abandoned is how I felt and how I feel to this day. I thought I did everything right and perfect for him and if I did then why did he leave me? I don’t EVER want to feel that pain again or anything even close to it. I’m a coward, I know."

Evangeline felt John’s hands on hers and realized he’d left his chair and was kneeling in front of her. Looking into his eyes she thought she saw a promise of forever, an understanding of her fears and a willingness to share and shoulder her pain. Maybe they would free each other.

"Damn, two pockets on this thing and not a tissue to be found," she said starting to rise, "Evangeline, don’t run from this, from me." She folded onto the floor and surrendered into his arms and cried and cried and cried, "Why? Why? Why? He still left me and I was perfect…just to please him."

John rocked her until he felt the force of her tears subside and still holding her he stretched out on the carpet and enveloped her, his arms and body making a protective cocoon. John was aware of time moving when he thought he heard his cell ringing upstairs but nothing was more important than helping her.

Evangeline finally pulled away and rolled over on her back, throwing her arm across her eyes to block the now-painful sunlight on her face. She felt John leave and was alarmed but then heard him return in moments, "Tissue box, look at me sweetheart. It’s alright, everything will be fine." John scooped her up and sat in the rocking chair holding her in his embrace while she dabbed at her eyes.

"Good thing I haven’t put on my makeup. Even better that you’re not dressed or your shirt would be ruined from all these stupid tears. All these…feelings."

"Don’t put on your game face with me now, counselor."

 

"Come on, John," she made an effort to stand up but he held fast to her, "It’s more than silly for me to bemoan my fate. He got sick and died. It happens. I wasn’t that close to my mother and his death didn’t bring us closer." Evangeline exhaled and ran her fingers through her hair, "I want everything with you but I don’t want to love someone so much I’m destroyed when it’s snatched away for whatever reasons. If you’re willing to face the pain of loss again, you’re so much braver than I guess I’ll ever be."

Shaking his head he replied, "Not brave, just holding on to the most unexpected and incredible gift. We’ll falter from time to time, it happens, but I won’t let us fall and you won’t either. How many times have you tried to walk away but turned back to me, to us? Evangeline, fight with me, for what’s possible if we both want it, if we work at it and try not to take what we have too much for granted."

Rubbing her back he felt the final release of the tension brought on by her tears and past pain. Then he grew alarmed feeling her shake and tried to lift her head to see what was wrong. When Evangeline’s eyes met his he realized she was choking on painful laughter, "Honey? Uh, are you okay?"

Nodding she tried and failed to speak then finally, "Aren’t we a pair? I mean, really!" and she let him fold her in his arms again. He knew she felt exposed and weak and realized that soon she’d fight to slip back on the mask of perfection; he didn’t want that. He needed her raw, open and vulnerable so they could continue to say what needed to be spoken between them.

"…It’s poignant and sad how I was back then/I tried to keep my emotions in control/Even tried to imprison my soul/I was afraid to take a chance/Afraid to take a risk/I guess that’s why I’m sitting here wondering/What if and where would I be/If you loved another/I don’t know why you bother/Cause the one thing I know is true/Is my love for you/Just supposing is a waste of time/A play on words…"

"I have to go to work," she said struggling to get up and to regain full control. "So do you."

"Not yet, can we make use of those fancy jets and turn your bathtub into a hot tub? Soak out all the tension?"

"Then we’ll never get to work, we’ll just luxuriate in the tube, making love."

"I’m not feeling any downside to that scenario. You’re wound up, bordering on over wrought," John squeezed her to stop her indignant outburst at the term ‘over wrought’. "Here’s a thought: you’re in private practice, I’m in charge of a department lets make an executive decision to work at home. I swear on my badge I’ll let you get as much work done as you would if I weren’t here; if we do this right you can work as hard as you want to and we can still play."

"Why do I feel certain this is the beginning of a set-up? How is it I just know my case files won’t be touched and neither will yours? Why don’t I think that’s a bad, slacker thing?"

John watched her tentative smile grow wider and made a mental note to shut off his cell and hers, and to conveniently knock the receiver for her landline off the cradle before they hit they tub. Work could still be done…in the wee small early hours.

"Come on Williamson, I’ll give you an exquisite work out in the tub." pressing his lips to her ear he dropped his voice to an even sexier, deeper tone than usual saying, "I promise, you’ll be sooo relaxed when I’m done pleasuring you."

"Promises, promises, actions speak louder than words." Evangeline said as she tossed off her robe and raced for the stairs with John in quick pursuit, their laughter filling her house with the assurance of a future together still to come.

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