Until There Was You by Kristan Higgins Page B

waving to a few people as he dodged down the brick sidewalks. Past the bakery with the biker-chick owners, past the head shop, past the Italian restaurant that always smelled so good. Down the little alley, onto Court Street. It was 1.7 miles from the garage, which was the last business in the downtown section of Bellsford, to home. The sweat that plastered Liam’s shirt to his back had less to do with the fact that he was running and much more with the fact that he was…yes, it was certain now…freaking out. The rational part of his brain knew his worst fears had very slim odds of being realized. He was freaking out nonetheless. The sound of his footsteps on the pavement counted out the seconds till he could be sure Nicole was safe.
    When Emma had died, it had been awful, of course. Eight months from diagnosis to death, eight months to try to prepare their child for heartbreak. The shock of grief is perhaps the worst part, that stunning realization that your time with this person is simply up. No arguing, no bargaining, no maybe tomorrows. Over.
    But he and Nicole had done okay, so long as “okay” was a relative term. They’d gone for some grief counseling; she’d joined a group made up of kids who’d lost a parent, and he’d joined something similar for spouses. Life didn’t change so much as shrink. It had been awful…but also manageable. Were there times when Nicole had sobbed in his arms, inconsolable? Of course. Nights when Liam had sat at the kitchen table with a glass of whiskey, unable to set foot in their bedroom? Yep. But there were other times when Nic had come home from school and giggled over her math teacher’s polyester shirt. Nights when Liam had gone to bed and fallen right asleep.
    His main focus had been Nicole, getting her through the worst parts, being father and mother both, adjusting to the fact that no one would spell him, no one would ease the crushing responsibility of raising a child, no one else would love Nicole as much as he did. It was brutal. But he was getting through it.
    Until the accident. Then everything got messed up somehow. And Nicole, who didn’t even know there’d been an accident, was starting to sense weakness, and when a kid senses weakness, and that kid is fifteen years old, and way too beautiful and completely unaware of just how filthy were the thoughts of men, and when she wanted some freedom and some space…well…things weren’t so manageable anymore.
    There. The apartment building was just ahead. Liam sprinted the last block and burst into the foyer, then, because the elevator gave him some major agita lately, bolted up the stairs. One flight…two…three…shit, he was getting old, this was taking forever, his legs felt like lead… What if he had a heart attack right here on the landing…four…and Nicole found his dead body…five.
    Liam burst into the small hallway that separated the apartments and dug in his pocket for the key.
    “Liam? Is that you?” A small gray head peeked out from underneath the security chain on 5B.
    “Hi, Mrs. Antonelli, can’t talk now.”
    “Well, I saw you running all the way down the street! Look at you! Is everything all right?”
    “Everything’s fine. Just a little late, that’s all.” He flashed her a smile and went in. “Nicole? Nic? You around, hon?”
    No answer.
    He ran down the hall to her room. “Nicole?” Shoved the door open.
    “Dad! Could you, like, knock? Don’t I get some privacy around here?”
    There she was, his baby. Earbuds in, eating popcorn, lying on her bed and looking at a magazine, not in the trunk of some car, not duct-taped, not at the bottom of a river.
    “I called you.” He was panting, sounding, yeah, like he might drop dead any second.
    “Oh. Guess I didn’t hear.”
    “Nicole, you have to answer the phone if I call!” he barked.
    “Dad, I said I was sorry!”
    “No, you didn’t!”
    “I’m sorry .” She finally looked up. “You okay?” Her face creased in a frown.