Knocking at Her Heart (Conover Circle #1) (18 page)

Maddie stood up. “Sam, I’m really
tired. Do you think you could take me home now?”

Sam chewed on the inside of his
lip.

Jean smiled. “Great idea, Sam.
Take your time.”

“Nice to have met you,” Brad
added.

“Yes, you too,” Sam said. 
He held the door open for Maddie. “I won’t be long,” he said.

They were in the car and halfway
to her house before he spoke again. “They’re dating,” he said.

For a bright guy, he wasn’t all
that quick. “I think so.”

“When the hell did that happen?”
Sam tapped on his steering wheel. “I wonder if he knows she has MS.”

“Do you think it would matter to
him?”

“It might. And I’d rather she
know that now than after she’s gone and fallen in love with him.”

“I’ve known Brad Mason for at
least five years. He’s a nice guy. Always polite. I think you’re worrying about
nothing.”

Sam pulled into her driveway. “I
wonder why she didn’t tell me.”

“Maybe she didn’t want you to
worry.”

“I’m her brother. I’m supposed to
worry about things like this.”

“You really take care of your
family, don’t you?” she asked.

He shut off the car, got out,
walked around, and opened her door. “When things are tough, really tough,
family is sometimes the only thing that will pull you through.”

He looked so serious. 

“Was that what pulled you through
when Gwen died?”

He had his foot on the first step
of her porch. “When she died and when she…”  He stopped. “I don’t want to
talk about Gwen. I had fun tonight, Maddie.  There were a couple times
that I looked up in the stands and I was just so darn happy that you were
there.”

As far as poetic gestures went,
it wasn’t much.  But it made her feel warm and safe and wanted. Was it
possible that life with Sam would be a life of Saturday afternoon baseball
games, quiet walks in the evening, and noisy family dinners? Was it possible
that she’d been wrong?

Mindful of her mother’s
propensity to sleep with the windows open and that her father lingered
somewhere inside, Maddie reached for Sam’s hand. “Let’s take a walk,” she
whispered.

He let himself be led down the
steps. At the sidewalk, she turned in the opposite direction from the hospital
and they wandered, hand in hand, in silence through the pretty residential
area.  The quarter moon and the occasional streetlight provided all the
light they needed. The air was warm and fragrant with spring lilacs. In the
distance, a dog barked. Closer, a cricket sang.

It took two blocks before Maddie had
gathered enough courage. “I loved tonight,” she said.  “And I could go
inside my house without telling you that, but I don’t want to do that.  I
want you to know that I loved watching you with those kids. I love watching you
with Kelsie. You’re going to be a really great dad someday.”

His grip tightened just a little.
“I don’t know, Maddie. It’s not like I had a role model. I’m not sure what a
great dad does.”

She stopped and turned to him,
their hands still linked. “I’ll tell you what he does. He listens and he
encourages and he’s there. Every day. He knows what’s important in your life
and he doesn’t necessarily give it to you, but he shows you how to make it
happen. He loves his family more than anything else and you never, ever doubt
it.”

He let go of her hand, stepped
closer, slipped his arms around her, and kissed her. And it was perfect. It was
a kiss of starry nights and rainbows and snowflakes. It was a kiss of
everything that was pure and perfect in the
world.     

He lifted his head. “I don’t want
you to think I’m crazy, but I…I love you, Maddie Sinclair. I know that it’s
fast, really fast, but I know it.” He lifted a hand and tucked a piece of hair
behind her ear. “I love your hair.” He ran the back of his hand gently across
her cheek, her chin. “I love the shape of your face, your mouth, your eyes.”

“You’re making my knees weak,”
she said, thinking she could cry at any moment.  He was so sweet.

“I love your weak knees. I love
your French toasst, the way your hips swing when you walk, and the way you
laugh.”

She put a finger up to his lips.
“No more,” she said. “It’s a lot to take in,” she admitted.

“I know.” He paused. “I don’t
want you to think you have to say it to me. That’s not what I’m looking for. I
just needed you to know.”

She leaned in and kissed
him.  Hard.  And when they stopped kissing, he was literally shaking.

“I want you so badly,” he said.
“I can’t take you to my house, and your parents are in your house and damn it,
I won’t take you to my car.”  

She brushed his lips with a soft
kiss. “My parents won’t be at my house forever.”

“Tell them to hurry up and get
this thing fixed.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and they started
back. “I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight,” he said.

She didn’t want to sleep. She
wanted to go upstairs and lie in her bed, with the blinds drawn back, and look
at the dark sky and remember the look on his face when he’d said,
I love
you, Maddie Sinclair. 

He walked her to the front door.
Then he leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose.  “I’ll see you
tomorrow. Goodnight, sweetheart.”

When Maddie got inside, the house
was dark except for one light in the blue room. She walked toward it. Her father
was awake and reading a new hardcover mystery. 

“I thought you might be asleep,”
she said.

“Your mother’s not home.”

She’d been afraid of that. She
slipped off her shoes and sat down next to her father. Neither of them said a
word.  

Finally, she couldn’t stand it
any longer. “New book?”

“Yes. I got it when I picked up
your traps.”

“So, they’re set?”

“Yes. You’re minus one piece of
American cheese.”

“It’s a small sacrifice.”

He turned and looked at her. “I want
you to know something, Madelyn. There’s something I’ve never told you.”

She so did not want the gory
details about him and his nurse. “Some things are better left unsaid.”

“Some things. But not this. I
want you to know how proud I am of you. You’ve worked hard to build this
business and it shows. You’ve shown great dedication, great commitment.”

But she’d never taken an oath.
“I’m sorry that you were disappointed when I didn’t go to medical school.”

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he
nodded. “I didn’t choose medicine. It chose me. From the time I was a small
boy, it was all that your grandfather talked about.  He made sure I went
to the best college-prep high school, then on to Harvard and then finally to
Yale for medical school. If I didn’t love it right away, I learned to love
medicine, to love the power of healing the human body. I wanted you to have
that same chance. Was that wrong?”

Could she tell him the truth?
Could she tell him that she’d felt neglected, almost discarded in the wake of
his relentless pursuit of his passion?  Would it heal her?  Or would
it simply hurt him?

It was not a night for hurting.
She wouldn’t go to bed this night, the night she’d given her heart to Sam with
her father’s pain fresh on her soul. “No. It’s not wrong to want—”

She stopped when she heard one
car door slam, quickly followed by another. Her father stood up and walked over
to the window. “Your mother’s home,” he said. “Her date is walking her to the
door.”

This could not possibly turn out
good. “I’ll make sure she gets upstairs,” Maddie said.

Her father ignored her. He walked
over to the front door and yanked it open. Frances and Tom Holt were holding
hands. Frances frowned and Tom opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it
again. Finally, he stuck out his free arm. “I’m Tom Holt. You must be Peter.”

Her father ignored the hand.
“Come inside, Frances,” he said. She didn’t move. 

Tom lowered his hand. “Look, I
know this is awkward but—”

“Take your goddamned hands off my
wife,” her father said.

This was not the way to end a
perfect evening. Maddie got up quickly and wedged herself between her father
and Tom. “Mother, come inside. Please. Dr. Holt, go home.”

Her father, demonstrating more
strength than she’d thought he had, put his hands around her waist and lifted
her to the side. He got toe-to-toe with Tom. “This woman is married to
me.  So, get lost. And don’t come back.”

Tom let go of her mother’s hand.
“What’s the deal here, Frances? I thought you two were separated?”

Her mother shrugged. “Sort of.”

“We’re not separated,” her father
said, his voice booming in the quiet night. “Now get the hell off this
porch.”  

Tom, shaking his head, left
without another word.

Her mother sucked in a loud
breath. “Congratulations, Peter. I haven’t been that humiliated since I was
eleven and I sat in the swing at recess and it broke.” Holding her head high,
she marched up the stairs.

“I’ll talk to her,” Maddie
whispered and followed. When they got to the apartment, Maddie shut the door
tightly and waited for her mother to explode. What she didn’t expect was for
her mother to sit down on the sofa, cross her arms over her chest, and look
downright smug.

“What’s going on, Mother?” Maddie
asked.

“It’s been thirty-five years
since I’ve heard your father use that tone of voice.”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to
offend you.”

Her mother smiled. “Oh, darling.
I’m not offended. If he was jealous, maybe it means I haven’t lost him yet.”

*

“Morning, Darling.” Her mother,
already dressed, stood in the doorway of her bedroom.

“What time is it?” Maddie asked.

“Ten minutes before five.”

She looked a little closer. Not
only was her mother dressed, she had on make-up, too.  “In the morning?”

“Of course. I was hoping I could
convince you to stay upstairs until the daycare opens. I thought I might have
breakfast with your father. Maybe even squeeze his oranges.”

Maddie opened her mouth, but no
words came out.

“For his juice, darling. Get your
mind out of the gutter.”

This from a woman who’d bought
the assorted box of condoms. “Right. He told me yesterday that he’s been having
breakfast by himself for the last thirty-two years.”

Her mother shrugged. “Well, I
don’t think anybody thinks we can go back to how things were before.”

“Before you left him?”

Frances shook her head.

“Before the nurse?”

“Not even that. I think the
issues between your father and I go way back. If we’re going to fix this, we
need to figure out when it started to go wrong.”

It was the first time her mother
had seemed optimistic about the future. Maddie waved her hand. “The downstairs
is all yours. Go have breakfast with your husband.”

Frances smiled. “Thank you. By
the way, how was last night? Was the
shoe sale
everything you thought it
would be?”

All that and more. Sam loved her.
She loved Sam. She just hadn’t said the words. “It was good,” Maddie said.

Her mother continued to assess
her from the doorway until Maddie felt like she wanted to crawl back under the
covers.

“Mother,” she said finally.
“You’re going to miss your chance to scramble Father’s eggs.”

“You’re right.” She turned, took
a step then looked back over her shoulder. “I’m happy for you, Maddie.”

Her words had a genuineness that
touched Maddie’s already-tender heart. It made her want to throw herself into
her mother’s arms. “Nothing better than a good pair of pumps,” Maddie said,
trying to maintain balance.

Her mother nodded. “I want you to
know, Madelyn, that I’d be happy for you if you found a great pair of loafers
or some snappy tennis shoes, too.”

And Maddie knew it was true.
“That means a lot to me,” Maddie said.

Frances Sinclair nodded. “I
should have told you that a long time ago. I’m sorry I didn’t.”  Her
mother turned and left.

Maddie walked into the bathroom,
splashed cold water on her face, and brushed her teeth. She’d shower later,
once she got the hot water heater working again. 

Snowball, apparently miffed that
she’d left him alone, wandered in and circled her feet, brushing his body
against her. She reached down and picked him up. “I haven’t forgotten about
you. You’re still the number one male in my life.”

She didn’t want to intrude upon
her parents, but she needed to get the water heater back on. She pulled on
clean underwear, jeans and a sweatshirt. She slipped her feet into a pair of
sneakers and then, like some crazy person, she tucked her jeans into her socks.
After all, there were mice in her basement. If one of them ran up her leg,
she’d pee her pants and then have a heart attack.  

She took the rarely-used back
stairs to the basement. She frowned when she saw that the bolt lock on the
outside door to the basement wasn’t locked. Probably one of the Simmons twins
had tried to escape. She flipped it back into place. When she got there, she
forced herself to look at the mousetraps. When she saw that all three were
empty, she didn’t know if she was glad or mad. “Sneaky little bastards,” she
mumbled. “Don’t even think about coming out to see what I’m doing.”

She squatted down next to the
water heater, twisted the knob to turn the gas back on, struck a match, and tried
to light the flame. She held her hand steady, but at the last minute, when her
fingertips were getting hot, she blew out the match. She waited just a moment
before striking another. 

The darn thing wouldn’t light.

Maddie twisted the gas knob off
and stood up. Discouraged, she stuffed the matchbook into her jean pocket. With
Travis Muldoon out of town, she’d need to make a few calls, see who might be
available to come have a look.

God, she was having a string of
bad luck. It had all started with the roof. She’d lost a few shingles and
suddenly, she needed a whole new ceiling in her bathroom. Then the crazy thing
with the hose in her dishwasher. Now, there was some unknown problem with her
water heater.  In between, mice had decided she was running a B&B. 

She walked upstairs and heard the
quiet murmur of her parent’s voices coming from the kitchen. She hated to
disturb them, but kids would be arriving soon and she really, really, needed a
cup of coffee before that happened. She pushed open the kitchen door.

Her father sat at the table with
a plate of food in front of him. Her mother sat to his right, drinking a cup of
coffee and eating a piece of toast. “Good morning,” Maddie said.

“Good morning, Madelyn,” her
father said.

“Good morning, darling,” her mother
said, like she hadn’t said exactly the same thing twenty minutes earlier.
“There’s fresh orange juice in the fridge.”

Her father’s orange juice glass
was empty. She looked around and didn’t see any of it on the walls. That had to
be a good sign.

“Its cold showers again this
morning,” Maddie said. “I tried to light the water heater, but there’s
something wrong. I’ll need to call someone.”

Frances smiled at her husband.
“Peter, I remember a time when we were dating that you used to joke about
having to take cold showers.”

Peter Sinclair smiled and sipped
his coffee.

Frances turned toward her. “I
told him that I didn’t see any reason for him to want to buy the cow if he
could get the milk for free.”

Maddie could feel her own face
start to heat up. A cold shower might feel pretty good. She half expected her
father to come back with some biting remark, but he said nothing.  It was
hard to tell, but she thought he looked a little amused.

“Yeah, well, here’s the deal.
We’ll need to boil water to wash dishes. The kids will have to get by using
cold water and soap. I’ll throw some antibacterial pre-moistened wipes in the
bathrooms just as an extra precaution. Just please remind the kids to use them.
If we just use our heads, this shouldn’t be any big deal.”

At eleven in the morning, it
officially turned into a big deal when the doorbell rang and she opened it to
find a woman standing there, wearing a blue lab coat, and carrying a clipboard.

“Hi,” Maddie said.

“Ms. Sinclair?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Greta Douglass from the Department
of Children and Family Services. I’m here to do an inspection of your daycare.”

“Oh.” Damn. “Of course. Come in.”

The woman, who Maddie recognized
from a year or two earlier, had broad shoulders and broader hips. Maddie
stepped aside so that the woman could ease herself through the doorway. Once
the inspector got inside, she took the cap of her pen and pulled a flashlight
out of her pocket. “I’d like to start in the kitchen,” she said.

Maddie knew the routine. The
inspector would do a walkthrough of the property. She’d carry her clipboard and
poke her little flashlight in and around things, checking everything from room
temperatures, to refrigerator temperatures, to exits signs, to play equipment
in the backyard.

And she’d check the bathrooms,
too. That’s where it could get a little dicey.

When they walked through the play
area, Maddie introduced the inspector to her parents.  The woman stood and
observed the activity for several minutes. Maddie waited for either her mother
or father to say something weird, but both seemed to realize that it was the
time to be on their good behavior.  Her father focused his attention on
the four boys who were building skyscrapers with blocks and her mother colored
nicely within the lines with three little girls.

It took the inspector less than
twenty minutes to get to the bathroom and another thirty
seconds to
figure out that there wasn’t any hot water. She stood at the bathroom sink,
holding two fingers under the running water that should have been hot. “It
doesn’t appear that your hot water is working,” the woman said.

Maddie had learned a long time
ago that it was always better to be truthful. “You’re right.  There’s
something wrong with my hot water heater. We discovered it just yesterday.”