Another Chance to Love You (5 page)

“When in September is her birthday?” he asked, his voice low, his gaze locked on Heather again.

“The fifteenth.”

“How much did she weigh when she was born?”

“Seven pounds four ounces.”

“Did she have lots of hair?”

“Yes. Black, just like it is now.”

“Was she a pretty baby?”

His words caused tears to well up in her eyes and her throat to constrict, making it difficult to reply. “The prettiest I’ve ever seen.” She swallowed hard. “I have photos if you’d like to see them.”

“Yes,” he answered softly. “I would.”

Silence stretched between them for several minutes.

Then Daniel spoke again. “Was she born at St. Luke’s or St. Al’s?”

“Neither. She was born in Salt Lake City.”

He turned toward her, clearly surprised. “Why Salt Lake?”

How little we know about each other, she thought, sadness piercing her heart.

“Why Salt Lake?” he asked again.

“Because you were still at Boise State for most of my pregnancy. I didn’t want to chance running into you before you graduated and moved away.” She rested her forehead against her knees. “Because I went there intending to give the baby up for adoption.”

A memory rushed in, replacing the present. She was in her girlhood bedroom, leaning over a suitcase, packing to leave for Salt Lake City. Her mother was standing in the doorway behind her.

“You’re doing the right thing,” Ellen had said. “There’s a loving couple out there somewhere who can’t have children of their own. They’re waiting for a child only you can give them. You’re doing the best thing for this baby, dear. As hard as it is now, you’re doing what’s right.”

Suddenly her mother’s words took on new meaning. Ellen had been talking about herself, about her own inability to have children. It seemed so clear to Monica now. She wondered why she hadn’t guessed the truth back then.

Daniel’s words intruded on her thoughts. “Why didn’t you, Monica?”

She lifted her head to look at him. “Why didn’t I what?”

“Why didn’t you give Heather up for adoption? You must
have known how difficult it would be, raising her alone. You were young. Unmarried.”

Monica smiled as more memories flooded her. “You don’t know how really hard it will be until you’re doing it. Two o’clock feedings. Colic. Doctor bills. Walking the floor for hours. Never enough sleep. Formula and diapers and child care. But the moment I saw her, I knew I couldn’t give her away.”

She looked like you even then. The thought brought with it a sharp longing, and her tears returned.

“I’m sorry, Monica.”

She closed her eyes, shook her head.

“If I’d known…”

Silence returned, for there was no perfect ending to Daniel’s unfinished sentence. The past could not be undone, and both of them knew it.

Heather’s laughter drew Daniel’s gaze away from Monica and down the hillside. The sound touched a deep and empty corner of his heart. Strange. He hadn’t known the corner was empty until he’d met Heather.

“Monica, it’s time to tell her who I am.”

He heard her tiny intake of breath, but he didn’t look toward her.

“You know I’m right. We can’t go on pretending I’m just Mr. Rourke, an old college buddy. She should know who I am.”

She touched his arm, drawing his gaze first to her fingertips, then to her face. “Once we tell her, your life will never be the same.”

“It won’t ever be the same anyway.” He spoke more sharply than he’d intended.

She drew back as if scalded. Her face paled and her eyes rounded.

“Sorry,” he muttered. He drew a deep breath, then gently repeated, “I’m sorry, Monica. I didn’t mean for that to sound like it did. I know you’re concerned about what my role will be with Heather. I’m not totally blind. I’m not going to hurt her. I promise.”

“She’s going to love you, Daniel. She’s going to want you to be a real father to her and to love her in return. She’s also going to be hurt and confused. She might resent me for not telling her before now, for not telling you. It isn’t going to be easy for any of us at first.” She paused a long time before asking, “Will you be around long enough for us to work it through?”

He didn’t care for the accusation behind her question, but he was honest enough to admit she had a right to ask it. Beyond work, he’d never committed himself to much of anything. He was a great one for saying,
We’ll see.
What a cop-out!

He couldn’t cop out now with those same words. She was asking him to make a commitment to Heather, a commitment he’d never been able to make to Monica herself. In fact, he’d never made that kind of commitment to another human being.

But somehow the words came out. “I’ll be around. Whatever it takes, I’ll be here.”

And he meant it, he realized, with no small amount of surprise.

Daniel felt Monica’s tension during the drive back to Boise. He tried to take her mind off of what awaited them when they reached her home by asking about her business.
Although she answered, he didn’t think he’d succeeded in lessening her anxiety.

“Solutions is a secretarial and bookkeeping service. We have staff accountants and provide computerized bookkeeping off-site for those who want it. And we have a branch that serves as a temp agency.” It was obvious she spoke by rote and that her thoughts remained elsewhere.

Daniel persevered. “Are you the sole owner or do you have a partner?”

“No, it’s just me.” She glanced over at him. “I started it from scratch.”

He let out a low whistle. “Impressive. Tell me about it. Tell me how it came to be what it is today.”

From the look she gave him, she understood exactly what he was doing. She even managed a tight smile. “It wasn’t because of any grand plan, that’s for certain. I wanted to be at home with Heather as much as possible, so I started out by freelance bookkeeping and maintaining large mailing lists on my computer. I designed Web sites and began sending e-newsletters to my clients’ customers. I diversified, hired some employees. Somehow it ballooned from there.”

Daniel glanced over his shoulder, intending to ask Heather what she thought about her mom’s business, but he discovered she was asleep. Her legs were drawn up on the seat, and her head was resting against the window of the right rear door.

Monica laughed softly. “I guess the warm water wore her out.”

“Yeah.” He stared at the road ahead. “I guess so.” Unexpectedly he found he was now the nervous one. What if he
turned out to be a terrible father? What if telling her the truth messed her up no end? How would he fix that?

As if understanding his inner turmoil, Monica took her turn at asking a question. “Was the trial as bad as it seemed on television?”

It took him a moment to realize what she was talking about. When he did, he answered, “Yeah, it was bad. You spend all those months looking at the face of evil, it begins to haunt you in your sleep.”

“But now there’s your book about the case. You’re famous, Daniel. That must be rewarding.”

Rewarding?
He wasn’t sure if that was the right word for it. Mostly he was relieved it was over. He wanted to put it all behind him.

“It’s what you wanted,” Monica added. “Back in college. To be famous.”

Fame isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, he almost said to her. But how could he? That’s why he’d left her. Left her alone and pregnant, as it turned out. So how did he tell her he’d been mistaken, that he’d chased the wrong dream for the past decade? How did he tell her he wasn’t satisfied with what he’d accomplished, that it wasn’t enough, that there was something missing?

Not that it had all been bad. Daniel had always found working for the newspaper an exciting challenge. He liked writing about people,
real
people. He liked finding clues and being the one to figure things out. He liked being the first to break a story. He’d put in long hours through the years, walked a lot of beats, worked his way up through the ranks to become a respected journalist.

But he’d missed being home in Boise. Funny how that
worked. He hadn’t known he’d missed it until he was back. Now that he was here, it seemed as clear as glass.

He wondered what else he would discover, if he stayed long enough.

Maybe he’d find out Heather didn’t want him to be her dad. Maybe he’d find out he couldn’t be here for her as he’d sworn only a short time ago.

He gave his head a quick shake to clear it. Then he glanced over at Monica. “I think we ought to wait to have this talk with Heather after all. Let’s give it another week.”

Even though he was again watching the road, he knew she looked at him, knew there was disappointment in her eyes. “Sure, Daniel. Whatever you think.”

He felt as if he’d just walked out on her—and Heather—a second time.

I
t was the persistent ringing of the doorbell that awakened Daniel at nine-thirty in the morning after a night of troubled slumber.

Disheveled and feeling out of sorts, he went to answer the door. He didn’t bother to grab his robe on the way out of his bedroom. He fully intended to send the intruder on his way, then go straight back to bed.

The man on the other side of the screen door grinned at him. “Well, what do you know? It
is
you. Mom said she saw you driving down the street, but I didn’t believe her.”

Daniel blinked, glowered, ran a hand through his hair. “Do I know you?”

The fellow’s grin broadened. “Don’t recognize me, huh? Take a good look, Danny boy.”

If this was some publicity seeker…

“Maybe if I was wearing a pair of dweeb eyeglasses and weighed about sixty pounds more?”

Daniel pushed open the screen door. “Tony?”

He couldn’t believe it. He’d known Tony Cristobal since the second grade. They’d grown up together in this neighborhood, had ridden their bikes up and down this very same street. The last time he’d seen his boyhood friend, Tony had eyeglasses with soda-bottle lenses and weighed in at a hefty two hundred and fifty pounds.

“In the flesh. But there’s a lot less flesh now.”

Wide awake, Daniel slapped Tony on the back. “How
are
you? Come on in.”

“I’m good. Real good.” Tony stepped into the house. He cast an amused glance at Daniel’s pajama bottoms and bare feet. “So this is how the rich and famous live? Hmm.”

“Yeah. We lie around all day, drinking coffee and watching TV.” He motioned for Tony to follow him. “And speaking of coffee, I need some.” He led the way into the kitchen.

While Daniel filled the coffeepot’s reservoir with cold water, Tony pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. “Your dad’s place hasn’t changed much.”

“Not much.” He measured grounds into the filter. When he was finished, he flipped the switch on, then turned toward the table and leaned against the counter while crossing his arms over his chest. “So tell me what’s up. It’s been a long time since we saw each other.”

“Thirteen years in June.”

Daniel remembered. It had been at Tony’s and Jennifer’s wedding. Daniel had served as Tony’s best man. The bride had been four months pregnant. With a new wife and a baby on the way, Tony hadn’t been able to afford to continue in college. The newlyweds had left for California right after the wedding. Tony had had a construction job waiting for him
there, working for one of his numerous uncles. Daniel kept in touch with his friend for a few years, but eventually, the calls and correspondence dried up.

“So when did you come back to Boise, Tony? Are you living here now?”

“Yeah. Moved back a few years ago.” He tilted his chair onto its back legs. “I wanted to be close to the folks. My mom hasn’t been too well.”

“Sorry to hear it. I hope it’s not serious.”

“No. Not yet. But we didn’t want to wait until it was.”

“And what about Jennifer? How’s she?” He wasn’t sure he should ask. For all he knew, the two were divorced by this time. “And your little boy? What was his name?”

“Mikolas. And everybody’s fine. Jennifer and I bought a big old farmhouse on a couple of acres out near Star. We needed lots of room. There’s eight of us now.”

Daniel felt his eyes widen and his jaw go slack.

Tony laughed. “Yup. I’ve got six kids. Catalin is the youngest and the only girl. She turned one this winter. And from what I’ve seen, she’s going to be spoiled rotten by her brothers.”

“Tony, the family man.” Daniel was unable to disguise the surprise in his voice. “Six kids.”

“Guess that sounds pretty strange to a high-living bachelor like you. But I gotta say, being a husband and a dad is the absolute best. I wouldn’t trade my wife or a single one of my kids for anything.”

Daniel thought of Monica and Heather.

“’Course,” Tony continued, oblivious to the direction of Daniel’s thoughts, “I guess if my dad was married as often as yours, I might’ve been wary of matrimony, too. I wasn’t
surprised when I heard you and Monica split up, but I sure thought you were an idiot for letting her get away.”

Daniel pictured Monica on that picnic blanket, her golden hair caught high in a ponytail. An idiot for letting her get away… He wondered—

“Have you seen her since you got back? She’s done mighty well for herself. Got her own business. She and Jennifer talk on the phone occasionally, but we don’t get to see much of her. Our lives are too hectic.” The tone of his voice altered slightly. “She’s got a little girl of her own. Heather. A real sweetheart.”

The coffeepot quit gurgling, and Daniel was glad for an excuse to turn away from his old friend. Something told him Tony had guessed Heather was his daughter. Given the striking physical resemblance and when she was born, he supposed he’d have to be blind—even stupid—not to guess. Still, Daniel wasn’t ready to talk about it, so he changed the subject.

“Did you go back to college to finish your degree?” he asked.

“Nope. Couldn’t afford to, not with a growing family like mine.”

Daniel looked over his shoulder, holding up a mug in question.

“Sure,” Tony answered. “I’ll take a cup. Black.”

He poured a second mugful of coffee and carried both to the table. He handed Tony his, then sat down in the chair opposite him.

“I’m still doing construction,” his friend continued. “It’s had its ups and downs over the years, but we get by. Keeps the kids in designer athletic shoes.”

“Ever sorry? About giving up college, I mean. You would have been a great architect. It was like an art with you. I remember all those buildings you used to design in your basement. You could have made quite a name for yourself.”

Tony looked thoughtful for a moment, his gaze locked on his coffee mug. “What you mean is, did I resent Jennifer for getting pregnant? The answer is, no. Sure, I wish we’d done it the right way—got married first, then started a family.” He met Daniel’s gaze. “But I loved her, man. Still do. Making a name for myself was never as important to me as it was you. I wasn’t that ambitious. I just want to do right by my family. That’s what’s most important to me.”

Again Daniel thought of Monica and Heather. It was tempting to tell Tony that he’d met his daughter. But what right had he to do so?

None.

At least, not yet.

Members of the congregation stood outside the church, visiting with one another after Sunday services. Monica was glad she’d worn a sweater. Last night’s rainstorm had dropped the temperature about fifteen degrees.

Heather didn’t seem to mind the cooler weather. Her laughter rang in the spring air as she ran with some friends in the park that bordered the small nondenominational church the Fletchers attended. Watching her daughter, Monica’s heart ached.

She’d been disappointed by Daniel’s decision to wait to tell Heather he was her father. And yet, she’d also been terrified when he’d said it was time to tell her, wondering if it wasn’t too soon.

Even the reasons for her disappointment were confused. Partly it was because Daniel wasn’t sure he was ready to be a father. She even respected him for being cautious, for not wanting to risk hurting Heather. But part of the reason for her disappointment was that she’d felt Daniel pulling away from her.

This isn’t about me, she reminded herself for what seemed the hundredth time since yesterday afternoon.

Maybe it was time she talked to her pastor about Daniel. Maybe he could help her work through these confusing emotions.

She glanced toward the church entrance. Pastor Clyde and his wife, Jolene, stood at the top of the steps, visiting with another couple. A man in his late fifties, Pastor Clyde was a wise and gentle shepherd of his small flock. His biblical teaching had helped Monica become grounded in the word of God from the day of her conversion. She knew she could trust him to give her sound advice.

Yes, she would talk to him. She would talk to him soon.

“Is it true, Monica?”

Pulled from her reverie, she turned toward her mother. “Is what true?”

“Heather told me you spent yesterday with Daniel.”

She suppressed a sigh. “Yes, Mother, it’s true.”

“Do you think that’s wise?”

“We’ve been over this already.”

“But—”

“Mom, you’ve got to let me handle this the way I think is best.”

Ellen obviously wanted to say more, but she restrained herself.

Monica offered a conciliatory smile. “It’s going to be okay. Daniel and I didn’t make it as a couple, but it doesn’t mean we can’t be good parents.”

“I just don’t want you or Heather to get hurt. I remember how devastated you were when—”

“You can’t protect us from life, Mom.” Monica put her arm around her mother’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

Ellen Fletcher had always been there for her daughter. When Monica announced she was pregnant with Daniel’s baby, Ellen hadn’t placed blame or made Monica feel guilty for her mistakes. She had done everything to make those difficult months easier. Ellen had gone with Monica to Salt Lake City and helped her get settled into an apartment where she’d awaited the birth of the baby. Her mother had been supportive of her plans to give the baby up for adoption, but when Monica changed her mind and decided to keep Heather, she hadn’t chastised her or tried to talk her out of it.

Monica felt a sudden rush of love. Perhaps Ellen and Wayne Fletcher had been wrong not to tell Monica she was an adopted child, but it didn’t lessen the wonderful, caring atmosphere in which she’d been raised. She didn’t know why her birth mother gave her up for adoption. She probably would never know. Maybe she had been a girl much like Monica herself, rejected by the man she’d loved. Maybe she hadn’t been lucky enough to have a mother like Ellen Fletcher, a mother who would stand by her, no matter what.

“I love you, Mom,” she said softly as she met her mother’s worried gaze.

Ellen’s eyes glistened with tears.

“I’m trying to do the right thing.”

“I know.” Her mother nodded. “I know.”

Once again, Monica envisioned Daniel with Heather. Once again, she felt a tightening in her chest, a longing for something still undefined. “Does it ever get easier to know what we should do?” she whispered, a catch in her voice.

“We must trust God, dear. That’s the only way I know.”

Her mother’s words replayed in her head when Monica and Heather arrived home to find Daniel’s red convertible parked in front of their house.

“It’s Mr. Rourke!” Heather said excitedly. “You think he wants to go back to the hot springs?”

“I doubt it, honey. Not this soon. You probably wore him out yesterday.”

As Monica pulled her minivan into the driveway, the convertible’s driver-side door opened and Daniel stepped out of the car. Monica felt a little flutter in her chest but strove to ignore it.

She turned the key, cutting the engine. Before she could reach for the door, Heather had already clamored out her side and was racing toward Daniel.

“Hi, Mr. Rourke. We weren’t expectin’ to see you today.”

Monica got out of the van.

Heather took hold of her father’s hand and pulled him toward the driveway. “Doesn’t Mama look pretty? That’s my favorite dress of hers.”

Daniel removed his sunglasses. “Yeah, she looks real pretty.”

Flustered, Monica dropped her gaze to a spot on the ground midway between them.

“Prettiest woman I’ve seen in a long time.”

Her heart started an unwelcome clamoring in her chest. One would think she’d never received a compliment before.

“Tony Cristobal came by the house this morning. I didn’t even recognize him.”

Relieved by the change of subject, she glanced up. “He looks great, doesn’t he?”

“I guess keeping up with six kids will do that to a fellow.”

“They’re quite the lively bunch. I should give Jennifer a call. We haven’t managed to get together since last summer.”

Daniel’s expression grew serious. “He knows, doesn’t he?”

She didn’t have to ask what he meant. “I think so, but he’s never said anything.”

“It’s time to have that talk.”

Oh, Lord. Get me through this.
She swallowed hard, then nodded.

“Mama, can we ask Mr. Rourke to stay for lunch?”

Monica looked at her daughter, feeling afraid and hoping she didn’t show it. “Sure, honey.”

“Can you, Mr. Rourke? Can you stay and eat with us?”

“Yes. I’ll stay.”

How long will you stay, Daniel? Only three more months? Is that all? It won’t be enough. Not nearly enough.

Enough for what? For us?

Panicked by her thoughts, she turned away, closed the car door and hurried up the walk to the house.

Heather deserved a dad, she reminded herself, and Daniel deserved to know his daughter. That’s what this was all about. That was the only thing this was about. A father and a daughter.

She fumbled with the key in the lock.

“I’m going upstairs to change,” she called over her shoul
der, not looking to see if the other two had followed her up the walk or if they’d heard what she said.

In her room, she closed the door, then leaned against it, her eyes closed.

This was insane. It was crazy. There was no reason in the world that she should be feeling like this. She wasn’t interested in Daniel. No matter how long he stayed in Boise, there couldn’t be anything between them. Friendship at most.

She drew in a ragged breath, then slowly exhaled. Better. That was better. The foolishness had nearly passed. She was almost back in control again.

Almost.

Daniel didn’t have time to wonder about Monica’s quick retreat up the stairs. Heather took charge of him, leading him into the family room. He sat down in the chair opposite the sofa. Heather sat on the matching ottoman in front of him.

“Guess what I forgot to tell you yesterday, Mr. Rourke?”

“Haven’t a clue.”

“I won a prize for a story I wrote in school. Mrs. Kline, my teacher, is gonna have me read it on Friday at the school carnival. All the kids who won will be reading their stuff. My best friend, Mary, won for her poem about horses, but I won for my short story.”