Baby, I'm Yours

“You were out of your mind with grief. I…should have reacted better.”

Her eyes blazed. “You reacted exactly how I needed you to react. I nearly begged you, remember?”

“That part’s a little hazy. I just remember it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

Maybe that was a simplified version, but it was better than nothing. In those moments on the kitchen floor with her, all he’d known was that he needed what she’d offered and she’d obviously needed him. Not for physical release. But to connect with another living, breathing being when so much had been taken from them.

Becca stepped closer to his desk, leaning forward, her blond hair falling to her shoulders. Her voice was soft when she said, “We can’t go back and undo it, no matter how badly we may want to.”

“Yeah.”

“And I know we can never totally act as if it never happened.”

Rick knew he would never, ever forget Becca holding him as if he was the center of her universe. “No, probably not.”

“But I need to ask a favor.”

“Anything.” It was an automatic gut response.

“Have you told anyone?”

“Of course not.”

“I didn’t think so, but I had to check.”

“And this favor?”

“It would hurt innocent people if this got out. My children, my in-laws. They might think it was some reflection on my feelings for Gabe. I loved my husband with my whole heart. Please don’t tell anyone what happened.” Her voice was husky, reminding him of the way she’d murmured in his ear as she’d made love with him. Even then, he’d understood that Becca was Gabe’s forever. What Rick had experienced with her had been an aberration.

An intense aberration he couldn’t quite get off his mind. But that was his problem, not hers.

“I won’t tell anyone, Becca.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

BECCA SIGHED with relief when she settled herself in the driver’s seat of the minivan, hoping she could avoid Akron rush hour. Her conversation with Rick had been tense, but she’d deserved every second of discomfort. He’d been gracious, all things considered.

Stopping at the neighborhood grocery store on her way home, she intended to run in, get a few things and leave. But she saw several people she knew, and the condolences, though thoughtful, seemed to go on forever. Still, she considered herself lucky to have so many people who cared about her.

It was nearly two o’clock when Becca walked through the door at home. The kids would be there in two hours and the house would erupt in controlled chaos.

“I was starting to worry,” Irene said. “I thought you were only going to the salon for a half day.”

Becca kissed her mother-in-law on the cheek and placed the bags on the counter. “I’m fine. I had a few things I needed to clear up at the rental agency after work. And I stopped at the grocery store.”

“Surely we’ve got enough meals in the freezer to last a month. Or years.”

“Yes.” Becca smiled. The way the condolence casseroles seemed to multiply in the freezer was an ongoing joke. “But we still use toilet tissue, soap and other things.”

“Let me get my purse.”

She hugged the older woman. “Hang on to your cash. It’s all stuff I would have had to buy anyway.”

Irene frowned. “We need to pay our way. It’s not easy expanding your family by two and we don’t ever want to be a burden. We promised five years ago to contribute.”

“You’re never a burden. You contribute by paying the electric and water bills. And by being here for the kids after school. That helps more than you will ever know.”

“I wish you’d let us do more. Especially now…with Gabe…gone.” Her eyes clouded. “Jim and I should probably be looking into other arrangements. Maybe a retirement village.”

“Nonsense. You’re still an important part of this family. It wouldn’t be the same around here without you.”

Irene cupped Becca’s cheek with her hand. “You’re a good girl. I’m so happy Gabe found you. You made a perfect couple.”

“Yes, we did.” Her voice wavered. She tried to avoid the sense of hopelessness that seemed to always be hovering close by these days. “I only wish I’d had one last chance to tell him how much I loved him.”

“He knew. You were the world to him.”

Becca was at risk of losing her composure if they discussed Gabe a moment longer. Trying to change the subject, she said, “Hey, you and Jim provided him with an example of the perfect marriage.”

“That takes work as you well know. Speaking of work, I better call Jim in from the workshop so he can help bring in the groceries.”

“Let him continue with his project. I only had these two bags.”

“It’s good for him to feel needed.”

Becca patted Irene’s arm. “I know. That’s why I’m grateful for his help. But today it’s not necessary.”

“Don’t feel you have to do everything yourself. Accept help when people offer.”

Becca turned away and pretended to check the contents of the grocery sack. “I do.”

“Only when you feel you have no other choice.”

Glancing up, she found Irene watching her. “It’s…hard. Gabe and I were a team, a unit. Now, I’m not sure what I am.”

“You’re a woman who has had a terrible loss. A woman who works hard to keep it together on her own. Sometimes, accepting help is the greatest gift you can give someone you love.”

Becca would have agreed with her, as long as it was someone else on the receiving end. Helping Gabe’s parents was as much a part of her as taking care of her children. And she would do the same thing for her father and his wife when they weren’t able to live alone anymore.

But asking for help was one thing Becca couldn’t seem to do. Except for asking—no, demanding—that Rick make it all go away for a few moments the night of Gabe’s funeral.

Becca’s gaze was drawn to the tiled floor where she’d made love to Rick. Her stomach protested.

“Are you okay, dear?” Irene asked.

“Yes. I was just thinking…” And hoping guilt wasn’t written all over her face, like a scarlet A. She knew Irene would be horrified if she ever found out. The thought of losing her respect made Becca’s heart ache.