Another Chance to Love You (15 page)

He looked at his daughter. “Sure, squirt. Tell me all about it.”

She launched into one of her energetic monologues, describing every new and strange sight they’d seen that day,
from the street hawkers selling imitation designer watches right down to the teenage girl with hot pink colored hair, tattoos and body piercing whom they’d seen darting through traffic on her in-line skates. It wasn’t long before her parents were both laughing as they saw Chicago through their child’s eyes.

Monica’s apprehensive feelings dissipated in the warmth of the kitchen. What had she to be concerned about? This was precisely what she’d dreamed of having. This was the sort of “family moment” that sold greeting cards and made Sunday night movies a hit.

Finally, unable to hide her yawns or her drooping eyes, Heather was sent off to bed. Daniel helped Monica with the last of the dishes, then they went to Heather’s bedroom. Monica smoothed the sheet with one hand as she bent over to kiss Heather’s forehead.

“Good night, honey.”

“’Night, Mama.”

Daniel stepped to Monica’s side, leaned down and kissed his daughter’s cheek.

“’Night, Daddy.”

“Good night, squirt.”

Heather yawned. “See ya in the mornin’,” she mumbled as she rolled onto her left side.

Before Monica had flipped off the light, Heather was sound asleep.

“Wish I shut down like that,” Daniel whispered.

“Me, too.”

“I’ll probably be up half the night going over the rest of Ed’s materials.”

“You have more work to do tonight?”

“Yeah. I’ve got to be ready for that meeting in the morning.” He took hold of her hand and led her to the living room. “Wish we didn’t have to say good-night just yet,” he whispered. Then he kissed her again. “’Night. I’ll come for an early breakfast.”

She knew it shouldn’t feel as if it were a personal rejection, but it did. Was this what their marriage would be like? Daniel frequently missing dinner and having to work into the wee hours of the night?

After Daniel left the apartment, Monica put on her nightshirt and brushed her teeth, then crawled into bed. She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, and wondered why loving Daniel made her sometimes as miserable as it made her joyful.

Real love—the kind of love God called upon His children to show toward others—was patient and kind. Real love wasn’t jealous. Real love didn’t demand its own way. Real love didn’t keep a record of when it was wronged.

“Lord,”
she prayed softly,
“help me love Daniel with Your kind of love. Don’t let me be jealous of Daniel’s work. Don’t let me be petty and selfish. Stop me from keeping a record of any wrongs.”
She drew a long, slow breath, then added,
“Let me abide in Your peace.”

The prayer helped, but even so, it was a long time before sleep overtook her troubled thoughts.

D
aniel had come and gone before Monica awakened the next morning. Heather informed her she’d had breakfast with her dad, then handed her mom a note from him.

“Well,” she said, putting on a more cheerful face than she felt, “what shall we do today?”

Heather shrugged. “I don’t know. I sorta wanted to wait for Daddy to do the fun stuff.”

She knew how her daughter felt. She wanted to do the fun stuff with Daniel, too. However, she didn’t want to mope around the apartment all day, waiting for him to return. She
already felt lonely. She didn’t need to be so idle that she was checking her watch every five minutes.

“How about if we go shopping for your new bedroom?”

That got Heather’s attention. “Really? Today?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“All right!”

Monica ate a quick breakfast, then took her shower and got dressed. An hour later, she and Heather were on their way.

They went to a shopping mall that contained, it seemed, every imaginable kind of store. They looked at beds and dressers, comforters and sheets, prints for the walls and curtains for the windows, a desk and chair and lamp for studying. Of course, they wouldn’t need to buy everything new. Many of Heather’s things would be shipped to Chicago from Boise. But it was fun to look.

They stopped to eat lunch, sharing a basket of fish and chips and washing it down with root beer. Then they continued their shopping, this time looking in the clothing stores. A couple of hours later, they returned to the apartment with several bags full—and a balance on Monica’s credit card that she knew she would later regret. Both were eager to show Daniel what they’d found.

He wasn’t in the apartment, but this time there was a message on the answering machine: “Monica, I’m sorry I didn’t catch you there. The meeting with Charley and the senator ran longer than I expected, and there are some important details I’ve got to follow up on today. I don’t know how much longer it’ll take me. Don’t worry if I’m not home for dinner. I’ll grab a bite along the way. I miss you both and hope you’re having fun. Make some coffee. We can drink it on the balcony when I stop in to see you.”

The call had come in at two o’clock. It was nearly four now.

“Mama?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think Daddy will forget about the zoo tomorrow?”

She glanced at Heather and smiled reassuringly. “Of course he won’t forget, honey.” She wished she felt as confident as she sounded.

Daniel didn’t have any lingering doubts. Someone had tried to murder Ed Tuskin because he’d been getting too close to the truth. He was determined to finish this story for Ed. Hopefully, the young father would be able to read it himself.

As the taxi carried Daniel toward his destination—a deserted warehouse on Elston Avenue—he was aware of the rapid beating of his heart and his heightened sense of perception. The adrenaline was pumping…

And it felt terrific.

After the Henderson trial, he’d been physically and emotionally drained. He thought he’d lost the drive required of a good investigative reporter. But it was back. He knew this could be the biggest story of his entire career. It was stories like this that got a guy a Pulitzer. He could imagine himself, Monica and Heather at his side, as he accepted the award.

“You sure this is the address?” the cabbie asked, drawing Daniel’s attention back to the present.

He looked out the window. The multistoried brick warehouse looked as if it was about to crumble. Windows were broken and graffiti was scrawled across the exterior.

“Yeah, this is it.”

He paid the driver and got out. As the taxi drove away,
leaving him alone on the deserted street, he stood on the sidewalk and stared at the old building.

This was the sort of place Ed had been at when he got shot. It could happen to him, too, Daniel thought as he looked around, but his instincts told him this meeting was legit. And his instincts were rarely wrong. He’d learned to depend upon those feelings over the years. He wasn’t about to ignore them now. This might be his one and only opportunity to meet with this informant. He couldn’t let the chance slip away.

He made his way to the entrance on the south side of the warehouse. It was ajar, as he’d been told it would be. He pushed it open. The corresponding squeak and groan seemed loud in his ears, and he clenched his teeth. If someone besides the man he was meeting heard it, he could be in trouble.

Trusting the Rourke luck would hold, he slipped through the opening into the darkened warehouse.

Monica and Heather watched two movies on one of the premium cable channels. Daniel still wasn’t home by the time the second one ended.

“You’d better go to bed, honey,” Monica said as she turned off the television.

“I wanted to see Daddy.”

“I know you did, but it looks like he’ll be working late again. You’ll see him tomorrow.”

Heather shuffled down the hallway to her room. Monica followed a few minutes later, tucking her in and kissing her good-night.

After her daughter was asleep, Monica wandered from
room to room, feeling lonely and wishing Daniel would return. The apartment seemed stark and empty. It was devoid of the sort of items that made a place feel like home. There were no family photos on the mantel or on the walls, no little touches of warmth.

Her sense of aloneness increased when she went to the living room to wait for Daniel. Would this apartment ever seem like home to her? Would Chicago?

She turned off the overhead light, then lay down on the couch for a catnap. She curled into a ball, her left arm used as a pillow, her right arm flung over her head as if she were hiding from something. She felt like crying, which she knew was silly. And knowing it only made her feel worse.

He hadn’t abandoned her, she reminded herself. He was working. His work was important to him. She had always known that about him. She’d learned it years ago…the hard way.

But he’d seemed different in Boise.

Homesickness washed over her once again. She missed her house and her own kitchen and bedroom. She missed Cotton’s exuberant affection—wagging tail, lolling tongue, shedding hair and all. She missed her mom and dad. She missed Doug and Terri and Claudia and everyone else at the office.

Most of all, she missed the Daniel she’d fallen in love with in Idaho.

Tears slipped from her eyes, leaving damp tracks on her left cheek, the bridge of her nose and her arm.

It was one-thirty in the morning before Daniel turned his key in his door. A lamp had been left on in the foyer. Otherwise, the apartment was dark and still.

He was disappointed, although he shouldn’t have been. He’d hoped Monica would wait up for him. He’d wanted to share what he could about his investigation. He’d wanted to celebrate with her what this story could mean. He’d never had someone else with whom to share this feeling.

Bypassing the living room, he took his briefcase to his office, then looked in on Heather. She was sound asleep, her sheet and blanket a jumbled mess. He wondered what she and her mother had done during the day; whatever it was, it looked like it had worn Heather out.

He saw that the door to Monica’s room was open wide. Even from the hallway, he could tell her bed was empty.

He felt a stab of alarm.

“Monica?” he whispered.

No reply.

He went to the living room, wondering if she might be out on the balcony and hadn’t heard his arrival. Halfway to the balcony door, he spied Monica, asleep on the couch.

He switched on the lamp on the end table and stared down at her. She looked like an angel, he thought, with her golden curls forming a halo on the sofa cushion.

He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

She opened her eyes. For a moment, she stared at him with a glazed expression, caught between dreams and reality. Then she blinked, and he knew she was fully awake.

“You’re back.”

“Sorry it’s so late. It couldn’t be helped.”

She glanced at her watch, then sat up, pushing her hair away from her face. “It
is
late. You must be tired.” She stood. “You shouldn’t have bothered to come by until morning.”

He stopped her, his hands on her shoulders. “I wanted to see you.”

Then why didn’t you come home when you promised? Monica thought.

She felt the threat of tears again. She didn’t want him to know, so she pressed her cheek against his chest and wrapped her arms around him.

“Mmm,” he whispered as he brushed his mouth over her hair. “You smell good.”

She drew in a shaky breath and let it out slowly.

“What did you and Heather do today?”

“Went shopping.” She was pleased her reply sounded normal. “Heather bought a new short set to wear to the zoo tomorrow.”

“Oh, no!”

She caught her breath, waiting for him to explain.

“I can’t go tomorrow, Monica.” He drew back, searching her face for understanding. “Charley wants a meeting at noon. I can go to church with you, but there’ll be no time for the zoo.”

“You have to work on Sunday?”

“Everything is heating up fast. We’re close to breaking the story. This is the biggest scandal that’s hit Chicago since gangsters ran things during Prohibition.”

“You promised Heather.”

“I know.” He released her, then raked the fingers of his right hand through his hair. “I know I promised. But it can’t be helped. Monica, this is a huge opportunity. It could very well be the best story of my career. Opportunities like this don’t come along every day.”

“I’m not sure that will mean anything to Heather. She’s a little girl who’s been counting on going to the zoo with her dad.”

He sighed. “I know that.”

Monica hugged herself, warding off a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

“I’ll make it up to her.”

I’m sure you’ll try, she thought.

“Monica, I
am
sorry.” He sounded weary, frustrated, perhaps even a little angry.

She felt exactly the same way. “I know you are, Daniel.” She turned away. “You’d better go. It’s late and we’re both tired.”

They attended an early Sunday service at a church located a few miles away from Daniel’s apartment. New in his faith and thirsty to understand more about the Lord, Daniel drank in the worship and the sermon like a man parched after a long trek across the desert. For that hour, he felt at peace. But when he had to leave Monica and Heather again—and he saw the looks of disappointment on both their faces—that fragile peace vanished.

He shouldn’t have to feel guilty for doing a good job, he told himself several times. It was a man’s job to provide for his family. Once he and Monica were married and she and Heather had moved to Chicago, the responsibility for caring for them would be on his shoulders. He was a reporter, and a reporter’s job could be demanding at times.

Still, the feelings of guilt persisted throughout the afternoon. And eventually he began to feel angry at Monica for the guilt he felt.

They would be married soon. They would have a lifetime to spend together. He would take Heather to the zoo. More than once if she wanted. He wasn’t always going to be this busy. Once this story was done, he could relax a bit.

In midafternoon, Daniel rose from his desk to stretch. He walked to the window and stared down at the Chicago River. Sunlight glittered over the surface of the waterway. It was a golden summer day to spend outdoors. A cloudless blue sky. A light breeze.

He wondered if Heather liked cotton candy. Or feeding peanuts—or whatever it was they ate—to the giraffes. Had she worn that new short set Monica had told him about? He wondered what color it was.

He checked his watch. He’d better get back to work if he wanted to be back at the apartment before dark tonight. He didn’t want to miss seeing Heather before she went to bed again.

Why did he feel so guilty? All over America husbands and fathers, wives and mothers, sometimes had to work late or go into their offices on their days off. It was just the way it was. The coming of fax machines and e-mail and mobile phones and pagers hadn’t lessened the workload. They’d increased it. Everybody worked longer days, longer weeks. Daniel couldn’t expect to be any different.

Monica should understand all of that. She owned her own business. So why had she looked at him with such accusing eyes? As if he’d betrayed her somehow.

He shoved the image from his mind as he returned to his desk. He had to concentrate on his work. Monica was just going to have to understand.

The nation’s oldest zoo, Lincoln Park featured naturalistic exhibits for its nineteen hundred mammals, birds and reptiles. Heather particularly enjoyed the big cats and the koala bears. Monica favored the exotic birds.

But no matter what they were doing, no matter how wonderful Lincoln Park and the animals, no matter how perfect the weather, a corner of Monica’s mind—or was it a corner of her heart?—kept reminding her that Daniel’s work was more important to him than his promise to Heather.

In the afternoon, they returned, once again, to an empty apartment. No sign of Daniel. No message on the answering machine. Monica wavered between heartache and anger, neither one of which she wanted Heather to see.

While her daughter plopped herself down in front of the television, Monica went to the kitchen to prepare the two of them a light evening meal. She didn’t fix extra this time. She didn’t care if Daniel came back starved to death. He could jolly well fix his own dinner.

Well, that settled it, she thought. She was more furious than hurt, and once she recognized her feelings, she longed to vent them. Since Daniel wasn’t around to receive the brunt of it, she took it out on the kitchen, banging dishes and pots and slamming drawers and cupboard doors.

In Boise, Daniel had acted as if he wanted them to be a family. He’d seemed to enjoy spending time with Monica and Heather. He’d indicated he wanted something different from what he’d had these past eleven years. But now she couldn’t be sure he felt that way. He’d been called back to Chicago because of an emergency. Was this a temporary situation, or would it always be this way?