Chapter Ten

As her footsteps retreated down the hall, Richie looked around the family room.  The over-sized chair and wide sofa looked comfortable, inviting.  The prints on the walls added color to an otherwise quiet, unassuming room.  Quiet and unassuming, he would say those words could describe Stephanie, if he hadn’t seen her smile and had more than one conversation with her.  

His gaze went to chaise end of the couch.  He could see her sitting there wrapped in the throw that was lying in a heap on the cushion watching a movie or reading a book.  That image was more than a little appealing.  

Turning, he stepped over to study the gallery of photos that covered every available space on the mantle of the corner fireplace.  The picture of Stephanie and another woman laughing, smiling and holding their martini glasses high caught his eye.  That had to be her sister.  The two women looked too much alike to be anything but.  He glanced further along the row of colorful frames.  Most of the photos had to be family.  There was a young man and woman with two little girls.  Taking a closer look, he decided the man had to be her brother.  They had the same eyes, same face shape.  There was a photo of an older couple he guessed were her parents.  She seemed to favor her father.  Looking at all the photos, she was in nearly all of them.  

Except one.  

There was one picture, of a man and a young boy, that she was suspiciously absent from.  Was she the one behind the camera?  And who were the boy and the man?  He picked up the picture for a closer look.  The boy bore a striking resemblance to her, but she hadn’t mentioned having a child.  He looked at the man.  He had dark hair and blue eyes and bore no resemblance to anyone in the other pictures.   She hadn’t mentioned a significant other either.

“What are you doing?”

Startled, Richie nearly dropped the picture as he set it back in its spot.  He had been so wrapped up in the pictures and his thoughts that he hadn’t heard her come back.  He looked her over, she had changed her clothes and was now wearing socks.  Hence her silent entry.  “I was just looking at your photo gallery.  Are they all your family?”

Reaching around him, she straightened the picture of Mark and Ben.  “Yes.”  She pointed to the other ones he had been looking at.  “I have a sister and brother-in-law, a brother and sister-in-law and several nieces and one nephew back home, along with my parents.”

He didn’t miss the hint of pain and sadness that crossed her features as she fussed with the pictures.  Whoever was in that one photo, they were important to her and the cause of some serious hurt.  He picked up the photo, “who is this?”

She took the picture from him and turned toward the kitchen.  “Let’s have lunch.”  She knew she was going to have to tell him about them at some point.  Apparently that time was now.

Sitting at the breakfast bar, Richie sipped raspberry iced tea and watched as Stephanie put together a turkey sandwich with lettuce and tomato for him, cutting it half she added a side of tortellini salad and set it in front of him.  “Looks great.  Thanks.”

She joined him on his side of the breakfast bar with a half a sandwich and salad.  “You’re welcome.”   Taking a tiny bite of her sandwich she picked up the picture and set it on the counter between them.  “This is Mark and Ben.  They were my husband and son.”

He finished chewing slowly and set his sandwich down even slower.  His stomach was now somewhere around his knees.  Husband and son?  Why hadn’t she said anything before?  He looked over at her.  She was staring at the picture, her eyes were clouded.  Wait, she had said ‘were’.  They were my husband and son.  “What do you mean were your husband and son?”

“Just what I said.”  She pushed her plate aside, her appetite suddenly gone.  “They were my husband and son.  They’re gone now.”

He looked from the her to the picture.  Gone?  Did they go back home or did she mean something else he didn’t want to think about?  “What do you mean gone?”

Getting up, she scraped her lunch into the garbage.  “They’re dead, Rich” she nearly whispered.  Sitting back down she toyed with her glass.  “One year eight months and seven days ago.”

He stared down at his plate.  Shit, that was the last thing he expected her to say.  His thoughts immediately went to Ava.  What would he do if anything ever happened to her?  He didn’t think he’d survive it.   Out of the corner of his eye he saw her hand resting on the counter.  Unconsciously his pinkie reached out and curled around hers.  “What happened?”  And how the hell had she lived through it?

Glancing down at the contact she closed her eyes and took a breath at the jolt of electricity that ran up her arm.  She slid her gaze to his face.   He hadn’t offered the normal platitudes and sympathy.  She was grateful.  She’d heard enough of that to last her a lifetime.  

As the sun shifted and the clouds rolled in, she told him of the tragedy of the day that was forever burned in her brain.  Mark and Ben had gone to a basketball game an hour away from home.  The weather hadn’t been that great, but Mark was careful and took his time.  In the end it hadn’t mattered.  A truck driver on the road for too many hours, had entered the freeway on too little sleep and and dozed off, drifting across three lanes.  He broadsided Mark’s car at sixty-five miles an hour, giving them no chance to do anything but close their eyes and pray.   

She didn’t cry as she spoke, but her eyes were wet and the tears threatened.  But she didn’t let them fall.  “After I got the call, the rest is still a blur until the funeral.  I’m still not sure how I got through those first few days.”  

The green eyes he wanted to see more of shimmered and he could see her fighting not to let the tears fall.  It had to be that same strength that had brought her through the worst thing imaginable and brought her out here to California.  And she had done her fight better than he had.  “You’re a strong woman Steph.  I’m not sure I would have survived that.  I nearly didn’t survive my own tragedy and it wasn’t anything near what you went through.”  Losing his child, he couldn’t even fathom it.  

“It still hurts, everyday is a little easier, but I don’t think I’ll ever be the same.”  She squeezed his hand.  “Thanks for listening.”  She got up and put their dishes in the dishwasher.  Looking out the window over the sink she frowned.  The sky had darkened with the late afternoon and clouds and the window was spattered with rain.  “It figures.  I wash my car and it rains.”  

Richie slipped off the stool and moved to stand behind her, his hands on her shoulders.  He wanted this woman in his life.  He couldn’t explain it, but sometimes there is no explanation, you just know.  “I want to see you again darlin’.  I’ll come back next Saturday and help you wash your car again if you want.”

She gave a little smile.  She wasn’t sure she was ready, but it felt good to have a man’s hands on her again.  She leaned back against him.  His warmth radiated through her and she felt oddly comforted.   Maybe he could help heal her broken heart.  She didn’t know but, ready or not, she wanted to find out.  “I’d like that.”