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My thoughts were brought back to the last time I’d visited Natalie at the graveyard. On that desperate day, I’d asked Nat,“Please … send us an angel.”
And just as I wondered what Becky had wished for, I wondered if this was my wish come true.
Chapter 22
Charles
By the time we put the girls to bed, it was almost ten in the evening.
I headed downstairs to give Becky her present.
I rubbed the back of my neck and cleared my throat. I’d racked my brain, trying to think of the perfect gift to give her, and I just hoped and prayed that she liked it.
“Hey,” I said, strolling in to the kitchen.
She wore her hair up in a sexy bun and her pink plaid pajama pants that I’d grown to love. No matter what she wore, she looked beautiful. She took out the cake from its plastic container and proceeded to put it in Tupperware.
“Did you have fun?”
She smiled up at me, and I swore everything else around me dulled to a buzz. Remember the lovesick-puppy syndrome? It was getting bad.
“I had an amazing time. It’s weird, but I don’t remember a birthday where I was celebrated by so many.” Her chin dipped down to her neck with almost-self-conscious gratitude. “Thank you, Charles.”
“You’re welcome.” I cleared my throat. “I realized I never gave you your gift.”
She peered up at me with amusement. Her cheeks turned a rosy pink, and she averted her gaze. “Charles, you don’t have to give me anything. You just don’t understand how much you guys have given me so far.”
I shook my head and approached her. Within my hands, I held an envelope. I didn’t know if she would take my gift, but I knew it was what she wanted.
I reached for her hand, and for a moment, I just halted, looking at her, noting how, earlier, she’d had on some eye shadow that highlighted her eyes. But now, she was barefaced and still astonishingly beautiful.
I opened her palm and placed the paper within her hands. Her eyebrows pulled in together, and her smile widened. “What’s this?” Her eyes squinted and lit with an inner glow. “Are you the sadistic type to take me out on my birthday and then fire me on my birthday? Is this a termination letter?”
I smirked because I couldn’t help it. “Just open it.”
She opened it gently, savoring it like it was already precious to her, and pulled out the single sheet of paper. Her eyes widened, and her mouth slipped ajar. Then, she folded the paper back up, her green eyes sparkling. “Charles … I can’t take this.”
I was already prepared for this. “Wrong answer. Your response should be …thank you.” What I had given her was a full ride to any nursing school, tuition paid. “You can go part-time. You can go to the university or the local community college. There’s no expiration to that. You said that you always wanted to finish nursing school.”
She opened the paper again, looking astonished, as though she couldn’t believe it. And maybe she wasn’t used to people taking care of her, being spoiled, but she’d better get used to it because I wasn’t holding back.
Her eyes met mine again. There was a hopeless glint in them, clear and compelling, and it had me smiling. “Charles …”
“Just say thank you,” I said, gently prodding her to accept it.
Her bottom lip quivered, and she nodded slowly before propelling herself into my arms. I was unprepared, my body tensing up.
Eventually, my arms folded around her waist, and I brought her into me, breathing her in, sighing against her neck because she fit perfectly in my arms. “You’re welcome.”
She laughed against my shoulder, and it warmed me from the inside out. If this was what she really wanted, I wondered if money was the only issue that had stopped her before.
“Why did you quit nursing school?”
It was the wrong question to ask because she stiffened in my arms. A moment later, she stepped back, her face unreadable, the joy I’d put there gone, as though it’d never happened.
I ground my teeth together. I’d meant it as such a simple question, but now, by her reaction, I needed to know more. “I know money must have been tight for you …” I was fishing because my regular up-front tactics would get me shut down.
She took a step back. “It wasn’t the money.” Her fingers were wrapped tightly around the envelope.
