Naked Hope (8 page)

He eased back his speed for a curve. “Warmer now?”

She brushed her hair away from the side of her face, pushed her toes into the floor mat and offered a watery smile. “Yes, thank you.”

“Do you have any other family?”

Anna was the last of my family. She shook her head, stared out the window, and whispered, “No.”

“It’s just you, then? That’s rough.” He rested his hand over hers and squeezed. “Were you close?”His brief touch played havoc with her senses. Jill eased away and rubbed her hands. Structurally, the brain is sympathetic to comfort through touch, but hers blew past comfort and crashed straight into a dopamine dump, causing her to experience an intense sensual attraction. Electrical rivulets teased their way through her body. She drew a deep breath. “The closest. She even lived with me for awhile. After a few months, she asked to go back, to where things were familiar—she needed a strict routine. She worked part time cleaning houses for several years and took a lot of pride in being independent.”

“Which begs the question, why not work with Down Syndrome kids? Or the developmentally disabled? Why choose TBI?”

Jill focused on the car in front of them, noting the sunshine decal on the bumper. “I knew I could never maintain enough emotional distance—they’d all make me think of Anna. I didn’t want to spend my life trying to save my sister over and over again. TBI intrigued me, and frankly, there’s ground-breaking research that’s very encouraging.”

He cocked his head. “Much of it, yours.”

His comment warmed her and she smiled. “
Some
of it mine.”

“And so, you found something you love more than the cello.” He wheeled into the Maple Tree Inn parking lot.

They were seated outside at a small table overlooking the river. People frequently rushed out to cheer as rowing teams from the university shot by, chasing after each other in hot pursuit.

The waitress chewed on the tip of her pen. “What’ll you have today?”

Jill turned from the excitement and looked into the face of the same server who waited on her yesterday.

The server tipped her pencil in Jill’s direction. “You again. Come back for more, honey? Better watch out. Those caramel rolls are addictive.” She patted her hips.

Jill and Gavin looked at each other.

“Baines?” He lifted a questioning eyebrow.

She dipped her head and grinned. “Baines.”

Gavin chuckled. To the server he said, “She’ll have anything but egg salad and dill pickles.”

Late that afternoon despite her best efforts, Jill arrived at the unavoidable conclusion that although Gavin believed he had his daughter’s best interests at heart, his expectations were unreasonable and therefore detrimental to her recovery. In her notes she wrote,
G is gentle and demonstrative with O. They share a healthy closeness during play and routine interactions. However transitions from one activity to the next are tense as O tries to anticipate what G expects. G looks for opportunities to encourage her musically. Both exhibit frustration and confusion.

Jill summoned Gavin for a private conference and suggested the library.

He closed the door and joined her in the chairs by the fireplace, his blue-gray eyes bright.

Fighting an unexpected flair of nerves, Jill began, “Olivia exhibits a high level of intelligence, and I believe that over time we can help her.”

Gavin nudged his chair closer.

Relief flooded his handsome features, smoothing some of the worry lines around his eyes and between his brows. Her heart sank.
He thinks I’m going to recommend Olivia for my advanced program
. She paused, taking great care with her next words. “But I ask you to consider how unfair placing her in the program you’ve chosen would be, given her emotional state. Do you really believe she can handle the pressure?” She watched his energy downshift.

He slumped against the back of his chair, his blue-gray eyes pensive. “Jillian, Liv is still a
musically
gifted
child. The accident hasn’t changed that.”

Jill leaned forward. “Olivia is still a highly
intelligent
child—but she is no longer musically gifted.”

Gavin jerked up, walked to the window, and stared out.

“This loss, coupled with the loss of her mother, has been catastrophic. And, I can’t help but notice how concerned she is about pleasing you.”

The maestro swiveled to face her, and crossed his arms.

Jill met his gaze. He looked as indomitable as he had fourteen years ago. Her stomach constricted.
Perhaps he hadn’t changed at all?
“There’s no easy way to say this. Your hope that Olivia will one day return to her music will singlehandedly prevent her recovery.”

His mouth tightened.

There it was again, that stubborn set to his mouth
. She slowed her speech to be certain she was being clear. “Your hope drives an expectation that is inherent in everything you do with her. Each time you look at her, talk with her, play with her, she feels the pressure of your expectations. That kind of pressure would be a daunting burden for anyone. Think how a ten-year old girl responds to such pressure.”

His eyes shuttered.

She found him impossible to read. Jill leaned back and spread her arms, intentional about her body language. “If you want to help her, you must abandon all hope for Olivia as a musician. If you serve as her guardian without your current expectations, I’d be open to recommending her for one of the more basic programs. At least to start. That little girl needs a break from the pressure she feels, just by being who she is.”

Gavin left the window and eased himself onto the sofa. He straightened his cuffs with deliberate movements and avoided her gaze.

Jill’s heart went out to him, aware she had just forced him to face the demon of reality. She broke her rule of physical distance and moved to the sofa, turning her body into his. “Olivia is in a high-risk category. She doesn’t remember the accident, has only just realized her mother is dead. She’s lost her ability to express herself musically—her music and her identity have been inextricable since she was three. People, including you, still expect her to be that musician. She has immense creative ability but no real outlet. All this adds up to a very frustrated, frightened little girl whose entire world has been turned upside down.” Her voice rose, “Why, the death of her mother alone, would be enough to—”

“Her mother's death!” He exploded, jolting upright, and then relaxed with his fists clenched. He glanced at Jill and blew out a breath. “Vivienne was livid when she found out she was pregnant. Every day I lived in fear that she’d end the pregnancy.”

Jill waited, careful not to react to this latest admission or allow it to affect her behavior which might be construed by Gavin as judgment.

Gavin drew a hand across his eyes and let out a long sigh. “I met her working summer stock when I was nineteen. She was older, worldly, exotic. At the end of that summer, we ran away and got married. My parents were furious and they had a right to be. She only married me for my money. Later, she stayed because of the recognition provided by my name.”

Jill opened her mouth but closed it again when she saw the savage vulnerability in his gaze.

“After Liv was born, Vivienne would have almost nothing to do with her.” Gavin clasped his hands around his knee. “Her care fell to me when I wasn’t traveling. I should have realized Vivienne would neglect Liv while I was away, but I naively thought she only did it to punish me and keep me from my work.” Gavin leaped up and began to pace. “We almost lost Liv at four months old when I was in New York. Mother dropped in on them and found the baby lying in a pool of sodden diapers with a dangerously high fever, seriously dehydrated. Vivienne was under noise- canceling headphones listening to an audition tape.

“When I got home, I found Mother packing up Liv’s things. She filled me in and I agreed to move in with the family where they could help manage Liv’s care. But Vivienne refused to move.”

Jill folded her hands in her lap. Although her heart ached for Olivia, she needed to appear neutral. “What did you do?”

Gavin sat again and shrugged. “I left her. When she saw I wasn’t coming back, she joined us. But the marriage was over. I couldn't forgive her for neglecting Liv, and she couldn't forgive me for loving my daughter more than I loved her. Most of all, she couldn't forgive me my success.” His mouth pinched and he gazed out the window. “After that, we remained married but lived separate lives.”

He grew quiet, lost in his own darkness. His body tensed. “Liv never knew the love of her mother. You said she grieves her but how can she grieve something she’s never had?” He shook his head. “It’s the music she grieves”

The meter and pitch of his voice became broken and low. Jill leaned forward and placed a hand on his forearm, shocked at the rock-hard strength. “Oh, Gavin! Even in the worst of situations, children never stop giving up hope that one day their parents will love them. Your daughter demonstrates survivor’s guilt. In some way, she feels responsible for her mother's death. Survivor’s guilt is further evidence of her grief.”

He leaned forward and stared at the carpet. “Around her third birthday—my career was well established by then—the miracle happened.”

“You discovered her musical ability?”

He nodded, a slow movement that moved his head only an inch or so. “She showed unbelievable potential. She’d hear me at the piano, and later pick out the exact same notes. Do you know how often that happens? Some musicians are born, some are made. Liv is both.” He turned and gripped her hands. “Don’t you understand? It’s the music she grieves. Helping her get it back is the only thing I live for.”

Aware he was lost in memories, Jill freed her hands and studied him for several moments. In a low tone, she murmured, “I believe you.”

He frowned. “But?”

“You say she’s your priority, and you’ve asked for our help

”

He jabbed his finger toward her. “I’ve asked for
your
help.”

“Yes.” She forced herself not to react. “And what you want me to help you with is to restore Olivia’s music.”

His eyes darkened. “That’s part of it.”

Jill crossed her legs and folded her hands. “The help Wilson can provide is very different from the help you want.”

He jumped to his feet and stared into the empty fireplace. “On that point, we couldn’t disagree more.”

Jill watched his frustration manifest in the rigid way he squared his shoulders. “How is that possible? You view your daughter’s inability to function as a musician as a failure

”

“Do I?” He glared over his shoulder. “Whose failure, do you suppose?”

She paused, considering the question.
What was he telling her?

Jamming his hands into his pockets, he turned from the fireplace. “I suspect, Dr. Cole, you think I’m afraid to fail—that I somehow see all of this as my failure. But I assure you the only thing I’m afraid of is not trying hard enough to help Liv find her way back to her music. She drew a lousy hand—a mother who didn’t love her and a father who…who didn’t protect her, and look what happened.” He leaned a forearm against the brick.

“What happened?” Jill prompted.
Maybe now he’d reveal the real issue
.

After a moment, he twisted, his eyes clouded as if he’d lost track of the conversation. “What?”

“What happened? Why would you say you didn’t protect Olivia?”

When Baines announced himself with a brisk rapping, Jill jumped.

Gavin didn’t react.

“Excuse me, sir. I’ve taken the liberty of drawing all of the cars into the garage and securing the furniture on the terrace. Would you like me to do anything else? Do you think we need to batten down the exterior shutters?”

Gavin’s wide-eyed gaze shot back and forth between Jill and Baines. “What’s going on?”

“A three-country tornado warning is in effect.” Baines stepped closer. “Several have been sighted along the St. Croix just west of us. At least one touched down just outside LeClaire. We’ve been advised to take cover.”

****

“How serious, are they saying?” Gavin asked, still getting his bearings.

“Very. A series of outbreaks are expected with thunderstorms and flood warnings over the next four-to-six hours,” Baines reported, eyes dark. “We’ve gone from a watch to a full-scale tornado warning.”

Gavin glanced at Jill who had turned quite pale. “Close the shutters. Baines, start on the west side, I’ll take the east. But first, I’ll move the family to the media room.”

Baines nodded and walked away with swift strides, arms swinging.

Gavin swiveled his full attention back to Jill whose large eyes and trembling bottom lip put him on alert.
She’s afraid of storms
. A savage determination overtook him. He hadn’t protected Olivia from the accident. He hadn’t protected his wife Vivienne from herself. He hadn’t protected his family from the ruinous rumors after the accident. But as he looked at the terrified, courageous woman who, despite his egregious behavior years ago, had set aside any animosity toward him to try to help Liv, he vowed
the wreckage stops here.

He grasped both of her hands. Her eyes popped wide but he didn’t stop. He pulled her close until their bodies were almost touching acutely aware of just how much he’d like to feel more of her generous curves and soft skin. “Jillian, I can see you’re afraid. You’re safe with us. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Gavin, Jill, Edith, and Olivia entered the media room on the lower level of the rambling estate which had no windows, no outside walls, soft lights, deep-cushioned furniture, and a large screen TV. He and Olivia used this room to review tapings of their rehearsals and performances. Tucked into the corner stood a small upright piano. How many times had Gavin stopped a tape only to approach the piano to demonstrate the correct technique, or to show Olivia what she might try instead? No one had been in this room for a long time.

Although stowed, they could hear the fury of the wind as it twisted and tore at everything in its path. Reports of tornado touchdowns continued throughout the evening and into the night. But as the hours passed, Gavin became aware of two things. Jill’s success of courageously engaging Liv in word games, problem puzzles, trivia, and other methods of measurable play despite her obvious fear of storms—and the hope that flooded through him as he watched Olivia respond.