After the Climb Page 25

  And a certain light hit her eyes before she said them. “You ready for bed?”

  With her sleeping at his side, and other things they did there, always.

  That said…

  “We gotta talk about something first.”

  She instantly settled in, ready for that if he needed it, and that was always too.

  She’d reminded him he’d given her that.

  But she gave it back.

  Then.

  And now.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Sasha,” he told her.

  He had to say no more. She knew what he was thinking.

  He told her anyway. “Honey, I now get what you were saying about direction. I’m of a mind too much pressure is put on kids to make decisions about the rest of their lives when they’re seventeen, eighteen, about to graduate and go to college or find another vocation. They’ve no idea who they are and are clueless how the world works, so they’re not at a place where they can make a decision about what they want to do with their life. If it was up to me, they’d all take time like Sash is taking, learn a little about the world and your place in it before you take it on. But I sense this is not what she’s doing. She’s…”

  He didn’t know how to describe it.

  Gen did.

  “Lost. Drifting. Aimless.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed.

  She rolled her head on her neck before she asked, “Do you think it might be the divorce?”

  “I can’t know, baby. I’ve known her a month and this is all I know of her. Sunny. Sweet. Lively. But directionless. Is that a change?”

  She nodded.

  “She was an athlete, like her dad, her brother. Matt played tennis. He was good. Not as good as Tom but few are. Sasha played beach volleyball. And she was great. Coaches talked to her and us about the possibility of her going pro and competing in the Olympics. She’s a laidback kid. Chloe got all the drama in the family. But with that, Sash was driven. She loved doing it. After we moved to Phoenix, we spent a lot of time, shuttling back and forth so she could keep doing it. She was all in. And then she just…stopped.”

  “Before the divorce, during or after?”

  “During,” she whispered.

  “You need to have a talk with her, Genny.”

  “I have, Bowie. And she tells me to chill out. She’s all good. Just because she’s not doing what everyone else is doing doesn’t mean what she’s doing is wrong. I tell her everyone else doesn’t have a trust fund and rich parents to keep them in ripped jeans and embroidered tops. It isn’t like she’s scoring through the money we set aside for her to go to school and set up a life. She’s low maintenance. It was far more expensive to have Chloe in France for three years.”

  He was not surprised about that.

  “I shared in return you can’t wander through life without something,” she continued. “I agree with you, it’s okay for a while. And even good. She’s lucky she has that privilege when others don’t. But I’ve told her it can’t go on forever and Sash doesn’t get angry easily, or impatient, but that sure makes her both.”

  “Can you cut her off, money-wise?” he queried.

  She nodded but didn’t look happy about doing it. “Tom and I have control of her trust. She can’t get to the totality of it until she’s twenty-six. But, Bowie, that’s last ditch. It seems punitive. And she’s not doing anything wrong…as such. She’s just not doing, well, anything.”

  “Yeah,” he muttered.

  “I’ll have a talk with her, after Christmas,” Gen decided.

  “How ’bout you corral Coco to have a talk with her?” he suggested.

  “I think you can imagine that Sasha is the least inclined of anyone to do what Chloe tells her to do.”

  “Maybe. Chloe is also a big sister, has it together, and doesn’t breathe unless she’s doing it for someone she loves, and Sasha knows that. So it might not go down great in the beginning, but it also might get her thinking.”

  Gen was also thinking as she said, “I’ll talk to Chloe about it. After the holidays.”

  “Good. Now, time for bed.”

  Her distracted expression fled, and her eyes came to his.

  Then she gave Cookie a snuggle before she rose from her chair, dropped the cat on the seat and they walked, arms around each other, to their room.

  *****

  Duncan didn’t know what woke him, especially after poker, a number of Scotches, a late night, and a slow fuck that ended fast and hard.

  But he woke.

  To an empty bed.

  Not even thinking about it, he sat up, ready to toss the covers aside and look for her.

  But he didn’t move when he saw her standing at the window, staring into the night.

  Either she heard him move, or simply sensed he was awake, because she spoke.

  “It snowed.”

  He could tell by the brightness coming into the room that wasn’t just the usual from a moon that was not dimmed by the lights of humanity.

  The theme of the planet: what they create doing everything from reducing to obliterating the beauty of nature.

  “Come back to bed,” he called.

  “I hate that you lived the marriage you had,” she told the window.

  Shit.

  Yeah, his comment about Harv being the best friend he’d had had gotten to her.

  “Come back to bed, baby,” he repeated.

  “I hate that we didn’t get the chance to make daughters. You’re great with my girls. I love to watch you with them. A natural.”

  His voice was lower, rougher, when he reiterated, “Gen, please, come back to bed.”

  “I need to do this,” she replied, also lower, throatier.

  Hearing that, Duncan said nothing.

  “Just this once,” she went on.

  Duncan remained silent.

  Genny spoke on.

  “I get that it wouldn’t have worked. I get that it would have overwhelmed us. I get that, if it hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have had my kids, and yes, Tom, and you wouldn’t have had the boys, and the times that were good with Dora. I get all of that.”

  She stopped.

  He waited.

  She started again.

  “But my mother loved you. There were times I thought she was more hurt than I was at how we ended. And my father never had a son. You were that to him. And he tried to hide it, so he could look after me, but I knew he was devastated. So I also hate that they didn’t live to know what really happened, to see us together again, and to have you back in their lives.”

  That cut to the bone.

  Even so, Duncan didn’t move.

  Nor speak.

  “And I know it’s useless to think, if we’d managed it, if we’d overcome it, if we’d stayed together, then what other ifs would there be? I know you would never have endured what you did with Dora. I would never have had the man I loved and trusted above all others in the world betray me. We would have made babies.”

  She stopped again.

  Duncan held completely still, because he knew one move would drive him to her.

  And he sensed she needed her space to get through this.

  So he did what he was intent on doing for the rest of their lives.

  He gave her what she needed.

  “So just this once, between you and me, so it’s just ours, I’m going to allow myself a moment I never allow because I think it’s weak and meaningless.”

  When she didn’t go on, he broke his silence to ask, “Allow yourself what, baby?”

  “To hate,” she said. “To hate what Dora put you through. And to hate what Corey did to us. Not to hate them. But to hate what they did.”

  “That’s not only allowed, but understandable,” he pointed out.

  She turned to him at that. “I know. But you feel it and you let it go so it doesn’t consume you, Bowie. You know that. You did it with your dad. Who, by the way, is the only exemption to the rule. I just straight up hate him.�
�

  That made Duncan chuckle.

  He stopped when she declared, “Having you back is like having the breath reenter my lungs. And another thing I hate is that we have Corey to thank for that. So I’ll only do that just this once. He’ll only get that gratitude this once. Because in the end, it’s about you and me and who we are and that we’d never quit each other. Not totally.”

  She had that right.

  Before he could confirm, she kept speaking.

  “Thank you for throwing that frog at me, Bowie. It’s been a rough climb, and there are parts of that trail I wish neither of us had been forced to travel, but it was worth it to be right here…with you.”

  Right.

  He’d given it to her.

  Now he was done.

  “Get back in this bed, Genny,” he growled.

  She came back to bed.

  He gathered her close and kissed her hard when she did.

  When he was done, she tucked her face in his throat and burrowed closer.

  He pulled the covers up to her shoulder to keep her warm.

  The room, bright with moonshine on snow, was quiet.

  Gen broke it.

  “Now, I can let that go and just concentrate on being with you.”

  “Good,” he murmured.

  “Are you at that place?” she asked.

  “Baby, you anywhere near me, I’m at that place. Nothing on this earth means dick to me except my boys bein’ good, now your kids bein’ good, and me bein’ with you.”

  She made no response.

  Though she did.

  And he loved what she had to say.

  Without anywhere to go, she burrowed even closer.

  “Now, go to sleep,” he ordered when she was done.

  “Okay, Bowie.”

  “Love you.”

  “And I love you.”

  Having gotten it out, Gen went right back to sleep.

  With her giving it to him, Duncan couldn’t find it.

  So he was awake when the moon fell behind a cloud and he lifted his head to see snow falling again.

  The roads up at that elevation were going to be a bitch in the morning.

  So he’d work from home.

  Gen, going out shopping now with Bettina, kept the kitchen stocked.

  They were good.

  Safe.

  And settled in.

  On that thought, Duncan finally drifted to sleep.

  And the snow drifted down outside.

  Blanketing a big log cabin next to an even bigger lake in peace.

  Epilogue

  The Holiday

  Sullivan

  “Your dad’s hung up, honey, something to do with the opening in Boise. He wanted to be here to get you, but he had to see to it. He’s headed down as we speak.”

  “He texted and it’s not a problem, Genny.”

  She smiled at him, watching him closely.

  They’d just greeted outside the terminal and were walking to baggage claim.

  He’d probably get used to people looking at her, some pulling out their phones, some of those not even hiding it, but for now, he wanted to chest butt all of them, get in their face and ask what they were looking at.

  “So, a couple of days at the condo, and then we’re all going up to the house,” she said.

  “Cool,” he muttered.

  “I’m excited to show you the condo. You haven’t seen it yet. Gage loves it.”

  Yeah, he did.

  Gage was there practically every weekend. Even when Genny and Dad weren’t there.

  Then again, Sasha was living there, and Chloe lived in Phoenix, and they’d all adopted each other, even Sully, who Sash and Coco texted all the time.

  Coco had ironic gifs down to an art.

  And daily, Sash sent him pictures of sunrises or starry nights or sandy beaches with the caption Your Daily Moment of Zen.

  “Yeah, he’s told me.”

  “You going to spend some time with your mom?”

  Shit.

  His dad, Sul could hide it.

  He could do this because Sully lived far away, and emotionally his father was too close to it.

  Genny was a mom.

  You couldn’t pull anything over on a mom.

  Not one like Genny.

  He knew this because he barely knew her, and still, he figured she’d called it.

  “Yeah,” he grunted.

  They hit the display that told them where his bag was going to come out and she said nothing.

  And they walked to the carousel and she still said nothing.

  But he knew he was going to give his mom some time, more for Genny than for his mom.

  It was getting to be a problem, him wanting to avoid his mother, and he should probably talk it through with Dad. He’d given him a little when Dad and Genny got back together, and his dad had taken it okay.

  Though Sully didn’t think the rest of it he would.

  No, telling Duncan Holloway that the entirety of his son’s high school years were fucked up because his mom decided he was going to be her ally with all her conspiracy theories about his dad fucking everything that moved, and she was up his shit all the time (when Dad wasn’t around), wanting him to spy on his own father, babbling all her crap? This going on even after they split up and Dad moved out?

  No.

  Dad was not going to be okay with that.

  Sully had hid it, and he’d lied.

  For his dad and for Gage.

  He didn’t want her dragging Gage into her shit.

  And he didn’t want his father to end up hating her.

  So it was on him.

  And when they were done, decided to split, he was so relieved. He thought it’d be over.

  But instead, he was supposed to be the honorable son, understanding his mom was sick and getting over it.

  He did.

  He understood she was sick.

  And he hated that for her.

  But it was hard as fuck to get over it.

  Because everyone thought she was all right.

  But all Sully saw was her playing more games.

  So if it was his choice, he’d hang with Dad and Genny and maybe call her and say “Hey” and “Merry Christmas,” sending his gift over with Gage.

  But it was never his choice.

  His phone binged and he looked at it.

  Gage.

  He’d had a late class and just made her house.

  “Gage is at your place,” he informed her.

  “Wonderful,” she murmured.

  “I’m sorry, are you Imogen Swan?”

  It felt like his entire body puffed out when he turned and got between her and the short woman who was talking to her.

  “Sully, it’s fine,” Genny murmured, putting her hand on his forearm and coming around him. “He’s protective,” she explained to the lady who was staring up at Sully curiously, probably thinking he was a bodyguard or something.

  “I’m her stepson and no offense to you, but I’m home for Christmas and I’d like my stepmom to be able to just be my stepmom,” he bit out.

  He could feel Genny’s eyes on him, but he didn’t take his from the woman.

  “Oh my God, I’m so sorry to disturb you.”

  “Really, it’s fine,” Genny said.

  “I wasn’t going to ask for a selfie or anything. I’m just a big fan and I wanted to tell you how much I love your movies and Rita’s Way.”

  “And thank you for that. Truly, it’s fine,” Genny replied. “It’s just, I hope you understand, my loved ones are protective.”

  Her loved ones.

  “Yes, I understand. And I’m glad you have that,” the woman said to Genny. Then to Sully, “You look like your dad. Just as handsome.”

  “Thanks,” he forced out. Then he forced out more, “Sorry I was rude.”

  “I get it. You probably have to deal with this kind of thing all the time. I’m sure it gets old.” She gave him a small smile, another one to Genny
and wandered away.

  He looked to Genny. “Sorry, that wasn’t cool. She’s a fan and I overreacted.”

  “Totally worth it for you to call me your stepmom,” she teased.

  He felt some of the tension go out of him, and he replied, “You’re probably going to get a ring for Christmas. So it’s not official, but it will be.”

  She seemed intrigued. “Has your dad shared?”

  “No, but he’s a really good gift giver so I wouldn’t be surprised because I figure that’s a real good gift.”

  She wound her arm through his and leaned into him, saying, “Yes, that would be a real good gift.”

  And yeah.

  Didn’t that just cut it?

  There he was, standing at a baggage claim with Imogen Swan leaning on him, and there was no baggage.

  And he wasn’t talking about the luggage kind.

  He’d come back a couple of weeks after he met her for fall break, and she and the girls were there, and it was a blast. Just like the first time, except, thankfully, without some outside force fucking with it.

  Then there was Thanksgiving, and it was awesome. Genny was a good cook, but Chloe rocked that shit.

  And in between, he’d Facetime his dad, and sometimes she’d butt in to say hi, but she didn’t take what little time he had blabbing at him and trying to make him like her.

  She just said hi and asked how he was.

  And made his dad happy.

  Christ, he’d never seen his dad so laidback and at peace as he was with Genny.

  And Dad was pretty laidback.

  All that shit that started them off, and a couple months down the road, and there was this.

  No fights or screaming and his dad all wound up, trying to pretend he was cool and handling things.

  Just happy.

  Just Genny.

  They got his bag and she walked him to her car.

  At it, she offered, “You want to drive?”

  Drive a Porsche?

  “Yes.”

  She handed him the fob.

  He put his bag in her trunk and they got in.

  “I’ve never been to the condo,” he reminded her as he was backing out.

  “You know Phoenix?”

  “For the most part.”

  “Head to the Biltmore and I’ll guide you from there.”

  “Gotcha.”

  It took her a while. But he figured it wasn’t about lulling him into a false sense of security.