Another Chance to Love You (9 page)

Her expression turned from insubordinate to desolation in an instant. With a sob, she turned and fled. In her wake, the waiting room was absolutely silent.

What, he wondered, had happened to the perfect little angel he’d known for the past two weeks?

Daniel made it a point not to meet anybody’s gaze as he followed after his daughter. He was fairly certain he’d had a right to feel angry, but at the moment, what he felt was about two inches tall.

So maybe this parenting stuff wasn’t a piece of cake after all.

Monica returned home at six o’clock that evening. Even before she opened the door, she recognized the scents of chili powder and hamburger. Once she was in the hallway, she heard the sizzle of meat frying in a skillet. She’d thought she was too tired to be hungry. She’d thought wrong.

Daniel was alone in the kitchen when she entered.

“Hi.” She placed her purse on the island counter. “Where’s Heather?”

“In her room.”

Something in his tone told her all was not well. She turned to look at him.

“Don’t ask,” he warned.

She glanced toward the stairs.

Daniel must have read her mind. “There’s nothing wrong with her. At least nothing that won’t be cured when I leave.”

So…the honeymoon was over. She wondered what caused the rift between father and daughter.

He tipped his head toward the skillet. “Tacos. I thought you’d want something to eat. Heather hasn’t eaten, either.”

“Are you staying?” she asked, despite thinking she shouldn’t.

“I need to get home.”

He was going to run out on them. At the first sign of trouble, he was leaving. It was a good thing she hadn’t let him know her feelings. It would be better, easier, this way.

Daniel wiped his hand on a dish towel, then stepped toward her. His brows were drawn together in a frown, and he spoke in a low but firm voice. “It wasn’t anything serious. Just a slight difference of opinion. I won.” He gave her a halfhearted grin. “At least I think I did.”

She wasn’t sure whether to smile back at him or not. She wasn’t certain what he meant exactly. She’d thought…

He kissed her forehead, then whispered, “You look tired. Maybe I should stay until after supper. Do the dishes for you. I guess my laundry can wait.”

“Your laundry?”

He drew her into his arms and kissed her again, this time on the mouth. The kiss was gentle and light, filled with caring tenderness. When he pulled back, he said, “You thought I was leaving because Heather and I had a fight. Didn’t you?”

Honesty demanded that she nod.

“I don’t give in that easy, Monica.”

“You did before.” She searched his face, trying to gauge his reaction.

“Yeah, you’re right. I did before.”

“Weren’t you ever sorry? Didn’t you ever want to call me? Not even once?”

His grip tightened on her arms. “I did call. Remember? You had your mother tell me you never wanted to see or hear from me again.”

At first his words didn’t make sense. Then, for an instant,
she thought he must be lying. And finally, she believed him. “When? When did you call?”

He frowned. “I don’t know. It must have been February. Maybe early March. I remember it was snowing outside. Why? Does it matter?”

So that’s what her mother meant about her interference. Daniel had called and Ellen sent him away. She closed her eyes. Oh, Mother, what were you thinking? Aloud, she said, “No, it doesn’t matter.”

“Listen, Monica.” He cupped her chin with his fingers, forced her to look up at him. “I’m sorry about the past, but I can’t undo it any more than you can. It’s what we do from here on out that we have some control over. And one thing I’m not going to do is quit being Heather’s dad, even when she’s madder than a wet hen at me. Like she is right now.” He paused, then asked, “Is that understood?”

For a moment they stared at each other. Then Daniel leaned forward to kiss her again. She placed a hand on his chest as she took a step backward, avoiding his lips and the temptation of his embrace.

“Daniel,” she said softly, “I don’t want to make the same mistakes I made over a decade ago. We were in love then, you and I, but we wanted different things from life. We still do want different things.”

His brows drew together in a thoughtful frown.

“I don’t want a lover, Daniel. But I do want love. I want to fall in love, to be in love.” I am in love. “I’d like to get married to a man who loves both me and the Lord. I’d like to spend lots of time with my husband, to have our home be a place of warmth and safety. I’d like more children, God willing.”

His expression altered very little as she spoke. She couldn’t
tell what he was thinking, how he was reacting to her words. The room was too quiet. Her chest ached, and she was certain her heart was breaking.

Finally, his voice so low she barely heard him, he asked, “
Could
you love me again?”

Tears sprang to her eyes. A lump the size of a softball formed in her throat. She mouthed the word,
yes,
but no sound came with it.

“Then don’t we owe it to ourselves to see if we can work things out?”

She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision.

He reached out, and she allowed him to take hold of her hands. “Monica, I don’t know what any of this means. I’m kind of confused myself. Being with you and Heather, I’ve started thinking about what’s missing in my life. I…I’d like to see if I can’t find some answers to the questions I’ve been asking. Maybe you can help me find those answers.”

“Daniel, I’m not the one to—”

“Maybe I could go to church with you tomorrow. Would that be all right with you?”

Her eyes widened.

“Let’s give us the summer to get to know each other again. Let’s start over, without preconceptions or any walls from the past. Maybe there isn’t any future for us, except as parents to Heather. But maybe there is. You’ve made it clear what your conditions are for loving a man, for wanting a lifetime with him. Now what I need is a chance, to see if…well, you know. To see if I can meet those conditions.”

Monica knew she should send him away. She had kept herself in a safe emotional cocoon for many years. Now he was asking her to take another risk.

“There’s something special going on between us, Monica. Give us a chance to see if we can’t work it out. Will you?”

She couldn’t fight him any longer. It was too late anyway. She had already fallen in love with him a second time. The hurt couldn’t possibly be less if he walked out today instead of three months from now. And if there was a chance he might never walk out, if there was a chance he might choose both God and her, then she had to take the risk.

“All right, Daniel,” she whispered. “We’ll start over. I’ll give us the summer.”

It would either be the best or the worst decision she had ever made, and Monica couldn’t foresee which one it would be.

T
he hostess led Ellen and Monica through the bistro toward a table beside the window. The narrow, unpretentious restaurant was located in a restored part of the city, tucked between a movie theater and a trendy clothing store. Monica and her mother frequently came here for their Monday lunches. The food was good, the atmosphere fun, and once the noon lunch crowd had cleared out, it was quiet enough for them to enjoy their visit.

And Monica wanted quiet today…because she had something very important to discuss with her mother.

“I can’t believe this has happened on top of everything else,” Ellen said as soon as the hostess left them at their table. “First Daniel comes back to Boise after all these years, then that awful article appears in the newspaper and now this robbery. It’s too much for one person. It’s just too much.” She opened her menu and perused it, even though she ordered
the same thing whenever they came here. “I don’t know how you’re coping with it all.”

“There wasn’t anything wrong with that article, Mom. In fact, Heather thought it was—and I quote—‘pretty cool.’”

Ellen lowered the menu and looked at her with amazement. “Nothing
wrong
with it? How can you say that? It told the whole world that Daniel is Heather’s father!”

“What’s so terrible about that?” She was ashamed of her sharp tone, but she didn’t apologize. “He
is
her father.”

Ellen leaned forward and whispered, “But you were never married. Everyone must be wondering—”

“Mom, I can’t hide from the truth.”

“That doesn’t mean it should be splashed all over the news.”

Monica sighed. “No, Mom, it doesn’t. But I
did
live with Daniel, and I
did
have his baby The truth will find us out.” She looked out the window in an effort to hide her irritation.

Tall trees cast lacy shadows across the bricked courtyard. Shoppers with paper bags and baby strollers and businessmen with suit coats and briefcases strolled along the sidewalk, enjoying the first day of June and the promise of summer that came with it.

“Are you ready to order?”

Monica glanced at the waitress. The young woman had bright red hair, a silver ring in her nose and a friendly smile.

“I’ll have the club sandwich.”

Ellen handed the waitress her menu. “And I’ll have a cup of the minestrone soup and a fruit plate.” She was doing her best not to look askance at the young woman’s appearance.

When the two of them were alone again, Ellen straightened in her chair, lifted her chin and said in her no-non-sense voice, “You might as well tell me what you’ve got
stuck in your craw. I can tell you’re annoyed with me about something.”

Her smile vanished. “Yes, Mom, I am.” She searched for the right words. She’d been searching for them ever since Saturday night. But there didn’t seem to be any, so she simply blundered forward. “It’s about Daniel. He told me something this weekend. It was something you did years ago.”

“Something
I
did?”

“He said he called, and you told him I didn’t ever want to talk to him again. Is it true? He called, and you told him to go away and leave me alone?”

Ellen blanched. She dropped her gaze to the center of the table. “It’s true.”

“How could you do that, Mom?”

She answered in a small voice. “I was trying to protect you. That’s all.” She looked up again. “You’d been so horribly hurt by what he did. You hadn’t heard from him in over two months and you’d done nothing but cry. I was worried about you. You were thin and pale. You didn’t eat enough to keep a bird alive. When he called, you were packing to leave for Salt Lake. You’d already made up your mind to give your baby up for adoption. You’d told me you wouldn’t want Daniel to marry you out of pity or obligation. So I thought…” She let her words fade into silence. After a tense moment, she added, “I am sorry, dear. I was wrong to interfere, but I thought I was protecting you. I hope you can forgive me.”

Monica felt the last dregs of anger drain away. All she could feel was deep sadness. Could it have been different? Would Daniel have married her if he’d known? Would they have been happy? The questions could never be answered, of course. There was no undoing the past.

She reached across the table and covered her mother’s right hand, patting it gently. “It’s okay, Mom. I understand why you did it. Of course I forgive you.”

Ellen gave her one of those penetrating looks, so peculiar to mothers. “I was right, wasn’t I? You
do
still care for Daniel. When I saw him with you at church yesterday—”

“I don’t know what I feel for him,” Monica lied. She glanced out the window again. “It’s all very confusing at the moment.”

That much, at least, wasn’t a lie.

“Are you sure you can’t cut this sabbatical thing short?” Charley Cooper’s voice sounded as if it was coming through a tunnel. “We need your expertise around here. Ed could use your help on a story he’s working on. It’s a hot one. Would be even better with the Rourke perspective.”

“Get off your speaker phone, will you, Charley?” Daniel replied, ignoring everything else his editor said. “I can hardly understand you.”

Charley’s voice was much clearer when he continued, “You didn’t answer me. When are you coming back?”

“I told you all along it wouldn’t be until September.”

“But we need you now.”

Daniel closed his eyes as he leaned his back against the doorjamb. It was easy to imagine Charley, seated at his enormous desk in the office that overlooked the Chicago River and had a view of Lake Michigan. His gray-white hair would be sticking out in all directions from the frequent finger-rakings it received throughout the day. He would be doodling with a blue, felt-tip pen on whatever piece of paper was handy. His wire-rimmed glasses would be perched close to
the end of his short, bulbous nose, and his bushy eyebrows would be drawn together in a thoughtful frown.

“Rourke, are you listening to me?”

“I’m listening, Charley, but I’m not going to change my mind, so you can save your breath. I’m staying in Boise for the summer.”

Charley muttered something on his end of the line—something undoubtedly colorful and not meant for polite company.

Daniel grinned, enjoying himself.

“I suppose this has something to do with that daughter you’ve got out there.”

“Yeah, it’s got something to do with Heather.” And with her mother.

“Book tours. Kids. Sabbaticals. Utter nonsense, all of it, if you ask me.”

Daniel chuckled. “Nobody asked you.”

“Yeah, well, you’re getting my opinion anyway. You know, today’s celebrities are tomorrow’s has-beens. You need to get your byline back in the paper. This story Ed’s working on is a real—”

“I gotta run, Charley. It was nice talking to you.”

Before the receiver hit the cradle, Daniel heard his editor shouting, “Wait a minute, Rourke. I want—”

Click.

That felt good, he decided as he turned away from the telephone.
Real
good.

Daniel had worked for Charley Cooper almost from the moment he’d graduated from Boise State. He liked the crusty old coot, and he respected him. He would put Charley up against any newspaper editor in the world and be certain he’d
come out on top. Charley had a nose for news, as the old saying went.

But Daniel was glad there were seventeen hundred miles between him and his editor. Otherwise, Charley would have him working the beat before nightfall.

Charley Cooper hated it when anybody told him, “No.”

Daniel whistled as he headed outside to mow the back lawn. As a kid, he’d hated this chore. He’d done just about anything to get out of it. Strange what a decade of living in apartments and condos—with nary a blade of grass in sight—could do to change a man’s mind.

With a quick, fluid motion, he pulled the cord to start the mower’s engine. It sputtered, then roared to life. Grinning, he pushed the old Toro toward the back fence, cutting a straight line through the thick green grass.

Of course, mowing the lawn was not the source of his high spirits. Those were due to Monica.

He hadn’t seen her since yesterday at church. She was swamped by things at the office, trying to get everything up and running after the burglary. But he’d talked to her on the phone this morning, and she’d agreed to go out with him on Friday night. An honest-to-goodness date. Just the two of them. With a bit of luck, the night would come with a full moon to help his cause along.

He hadn’t felt this way since he was twenty. If this was the real thing, if it was meant to last, then he didn’t want to let it slip away.

As he worked the mower around the trunk of a maple tree, he thought of Charley’s plea for him to return to Chicago. Strange. He didn’t feel the urge to get back. He knew it
wasn’t because he disliked his work. He thrived on it. He was good at it.

He’d taken a total of three weeks vacation in all the years he’d been with the paper, and two of those were only because Kit had dragged him to the Caribbean. She’d threatened to do him bodily harm if he refused to go. But even as they’d sunned themselves on pristine beaches, he’d been thinking about work, chomping at the bit to get back.

Sure, he’d been burned out by the trial and the months it had taken him to write his book, but that wasn’t why he didn’t want to return to Chicago and his job. Monica was the reason for that. Monica and Heather. He needed to know how they were going to fit into his future.

How… Not if.

He stopped in midstride, then shut off the mower. The sudden quiet was deafening.

How… Not if.

He wasn’t wondering
if
he wanted Monica to be with him. He was only wondering
how
they could make it work. He wasn’t thinking about getting her into his bed. He was thinking about getting her into his life. Permanently.

Daniel Rourke had fallen in love, and he hadn’t seen it coming.

The receptionist gave Monica a particularly bright smile when she saw her get off the elevator. “Hi, Ms. Fletcher.” She plucked some slips of paper out of Monica’s message slot. “These are for you.”

“Thank you, Terri.” She glanced through them. “No call back from the insurance company?”

“Not yet. But there is something waiting on your desk that
I think must be pretty important.” Before Monica could ask, she added, “I don’t know who it’s from.”

Hoping it wasn’t another problem she would have to deal with, she pushed open the glass door and headed for her office. She stopped when she saw her personal secretary seated on the floor in the file room.

Claudia Williams glanced up as Monica stepped into the small room. “I’d like to get my hands on the guys who did this.” Her tone left little doubt what she would do with the culprits if she caught them.

Monica nodded. “I know what you mean. But I’m amazed what you’ve managed to get done in one day.”

“I’m lucky. Most of the papers are easy to identify and get back in the right files.”

“Do you need me to bring someone in to help you?”

“I don’t think so,” Claudia answered as her gaze swept the stacks of papers all around her. “It would probably take longer to explain what I need than to do it myself.”

Monica understood that philosophy. It was one she often operated under herself. She also knew it could leave a person feeling overwhelmed and frustrated. “Okay, but let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will.”

She left the file room and continued toward her office, silently counting off the many things she needed to accomplish before the day was done. She was so far behind now. It didn’t help that she’d stayed at lunch with her mother longer than usual. But she was glad they’d had the chance to talk, to clear the air.

Monica opened the door to her office and strode toward her desk, once again glancing through the message forms in
her hand. As she drew closer, she caught sight of something, looked up and came to a sudden halt.

A beautiful cut-glass vase stood in the center of her desk. Rising out of it was a bouquet of calla lilies. Her favorite flower in the world. Their showy spathes were white, pink, purple and yellow. Several of the flowers draped elegantly over the rim of the vase while others stood upright.

Monica’s heart tripped, and she caught her breath. She remembered distinctly the last time she’d been given a calla lily. It was the night she’d moved in with Daniel. They’d gone out to dinner, and he’d presented her with a corsage made of one pale pink calla lily. It was all he could afford. Now she was looking at a dozen of them in a single bouquet.

She reached for the small white envelope lying on the desk beside the vase. With trembling fingers, she opened the flap and drew out the card.

To Monica,
it read,
for giving us the summer.

“Oh, Daniel.”

He’d remembered. After all these years, he’d remembered about the calla lilies. He’d given her this beautiful bouquet and a summer.

If only she knew what lay beyond September.

She sank onto a nearby chair. She was a coward, she admitted to herself. She’d kept her heart, her emotions, safely under wraps for years. Now she was being asked to set them free, to see what might develop.

And she was afraid.

Afraid because she wanted more than a summer. She wanted beyond September.

She wanted it all—and she was afraid God would say no.

If Daniel had opened the door and found the President of the United States standing on his front stoop, he couldn’t have been more surprised.

“Hello, Daniel,” Ellen Fletcher greeted him, her voice quivering slightly. “I hope I haven’t come at a bad time.”

He glanced down at his sweat-stained tank top, then back at Monica’s mother. “No, I just finished cutting the grass.” He pushed open the storm door. “Come on in.”

“Thank you.”

“Make yourself at home,” he told her, motioning toward the living room. “I need a minute to wash up.” He hurried toward the bathroom.

While his thoughts churned in his head, wondering what had brought Ellen to his house, he quickly peeled off his shirt. Then he ran water in the sink and freshened up the best he could before donning a clean T-shirt. He was back to the living room before more than five minutes had passed.