Rekindled Dreams (Moon Child) (2 page)

Those words had crushed her and she had agreed.

Bastard.

Her memories flashed to the day she’d told him about the pregnancy. “We’ll be a real family.” She’d been wrong.

“Get an abortion.”

Stop it. Don’t go there. She’d soon have the family she wanted. Randy Grantlan was history.

Dana stretched. The nagging backache had come and gone all day. Was labor about to begin? Though she had book knowledge about pregnancy, other than at school, she’d never worked in obstetrics.

Her stomach growled. Dana groaned. She’d been so focused on her new venture she’d forgotten to eat lunch. She glanced at the clock on the mantle above the fireplace. Four o’clock. She needed to eat. As she left the family room for the long walk to the kitchen at the other end of the house, she smiled. She couldn’t wait to sell this place.

The doorbell chimed. Who?

She reached the foyer and nearly tripped over the small suitcase and the infant seat. Though she could drive to the hospital, she Knew Dr. Scott wouldn’t let her drive home after the delivery. The hospital parking lot was the last place she wanted to leave her car. When the moment arrived, she would call a cab.

Dana opened the door to find her birthing partner on the doorstep. The green scrubs meant Madge had come straight from work. “Don’t tell me they’ve changed your hours again.”

Madge shook her head. Wispy curls the color of dandelions bounded. “Not this week. Told the supervisor no evenings or nights until you have the baby.” She frowned. “Haven’t you heard?”

“About what?”

Madge hesitated. “Do you ever read the paper or listen to the local news?”

“Don’t have a paper delivered and spent the day on the computer.” Dana stepped aside. “Come in. I just signed client number five. I was about to have a late lunch or an early supper.” She let her friend down the hall past the huge living and dining rooms to the kitchen filled with every appliance needed to create a gourmet meal.

Madge sat at the table. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Wait until I make a salad. I’m so hungry I feel faint.” Dana’s stomach rumbled so loud she blushed.

“You need to take better care of yourself.” Madge said. “You’re eating…”

“For two," Dana finished. She grabbed and opened a bag of salad greens, diced a tomato, added some strips of ham and chicken, plus two slices of hard-boiled eggs with some light dressing. After pouring iced tea for Madge and fruit juice for herself she joined her friend. “I need to do some grocery shopping before I go into labor.”

Madge looked up. “Your due date’s tomorrow. Make a list. I’ll shop for you.”

“I’ll do that this evening.” She dug into the salad and sighed with pleasure. After she’d eaten half the food she looked at Madge. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing on my end. Since you didn’t read the paper or listen to the news, I’ll tell you. Randy died in an automobile accident sometime yesterday. The staff was buzzing with the news.”

“You’re kidding.” Dana wasn’t sure how she felt about the news. Though she’d tried, the marriage had ended long before she’d stopped trying to form a family with Randy.

Madge shook her head. “It’s true. Big splash in today’s paper. About the loss and about State Senator Blan’s daughter.”

“Where?”

“On that narrow road from the Club.”

Dana drew a deep breath. She’d been a passenger in Randy’s car down that road. “Was he drunk?” She knew the answer. He’d never known his limit.

“Nothing about alcohol was mentioned,” Madge said. “The nursing home was filled with gossip and most agreed he’d been drinking.”

Dana made a face. “I’m sure his father quashed any reports of alcohol levels.”

Madge nodded. “Robert Grantlan would do that. The Grantlan family has no faults. One of the orderlies ran into Patricia this noon. She’s accusing every woman Randy ever slept with of joining a conspiracy.”

“Even me.”

“Afraid so.”

Dana thought of her confrontations with Randy’s twin. Patricia had been angry about the engagement, the marriage and the divorce. Dana had stopped attending dinners at the Club long before the divorce. “What are you holding back?”

“He and Melanie Blan were celebrating their engagement.”

Dana met her friend’s gaze. “I know. That’s one of the reasons he wanted a divorce. She was fit to be a Grantlan and have Grantlan babies.”

“The jerk.”

“I agree.” She didn’t completely blame Randy. Much of his attitude had been instilled and cultivated by his father. Robert Grantlan had been furious when all she’d received after her parents’ deaths was twenty-five thousand dollars. “Is there a viewing? Will the coffin be open or closed?”

With a click Madge set her glass on the table. “This evening. All day tomorrow. Funeral the next day.”

“Where?”

“Fern Lake Funeral Home.” Madge leaned forward. “You aren’t thinking about going?”

“I might, especially to see May. She’s kept in touch. Look at the layette and cradle she sent for the baby.”

“Don’t go. Call her. Send a card.”

“Maybe I need to see him.”

“Why?”

Dana gulped a breath. She wasn’t sure. Though she felt a bit of sadness about his death, she wasn’t grieving.  Any grieving had ended the day she told him about the pregnancy and how she’d been lured into marriage.

Madge shook her head. “I think you’re crazy to step into that wasp nest but if you need closure, go ahead.”

Dana didn’t know what she needed. She had her life on track and there was nothing those people could give her now. She pushed the rest of the salad away.

Madge rose. “Just to let you know. Jim and I have a dinner date and then the movies. I’ll leave my phone on. The minute you have a contraction, call.”

“Will do.”

After Madge left, Dana studied the shelves and began a list she put on the fridge. She leaned against the cool surface. Should she go to the funeral home? Madge thought she was crazy for considering a visit but she felt a need to see her former mother-in-law. How was May handling Randy’s death? May had often quarreled with her younger son about his drinking and the stormy relationship hadn’t been good. Still, May was his mother. Losing a child must be dreadful.

Dana placed her hand on her belly. “Should I make an appearance? Your daddy’s dead, not that you can ever claim him.” A thought stabbed. When the baby was old enough, how would she explain Randy’s rejection or the threats he’d made if she ever tried to name him as the baby’s father? She’d no doubt he would have carried out those threats. Being called a whore and an opportunist would have caused her to leave Fern Lake. She wanted to live and raise her child here where she’d grown up.

The baby kicked. Dana nodded. She would go, speak to May and express her sympathy. The older woman needed to know someone understood mixed feelings.

Dana walked upstairs to change into the only dark maternity dress in her closet. The dark green color made her eyes greener and flattered her coloring giving her the courage to face the other members of the Grantlan family.

As she brushed her hair one thought nearly made her change her mind. Would Simon come for the funeral?

Why consider the possibility? He hadn’t made an appearance in Fern Lake since the day after high school graduation. There have been no tidbits of news about him in the local paper. Also, though he and Randy were cousins, there’d been enmity between them.

A memory from her wedding night arose. Randy had gloated over getting what Simon hadn’t taken. Her virginity.

She grasped the railing and walked downstairs. Ten years had passed since she’d seen Simon.

Forget the past. All she wanted was to make a quick appearance at the funeral home and speak to May.

Chapter 2

Simon stood at the counter of the car rental agency and felt as though he signed his life away. A sleepless night had found him regretting the agreement to return to Fern Lake for the funeral. He’d left so much unfinished when he’d walked away like a spoiled brat. Couldn’t change the past was a given.

He leaned toward the clerk. If the man didn’t stop the sales pitch soon, the anger bubbling toward the surface would erupt in an angry tirade.

“I don’t want a SUV.  I’m not going on a road trip. Just a regular car. The one I called about.” He slapped his card on the Formica counter surface.

The clerk smiled. “What about a luxury sedan? We have one equipped with every gadget you could want.”

Simon’s jaw clenched. “A mid-sized sedan. The one I ordered last evening.” He groaned. Why had he agreed to go back for the funeral of a man who had treated him like dirt?

“When was the last time you drove in the city?”

Since most of the drive would be on an interstate, Simon felt a burn of anger. The question was useless. “Last month. Car provided by my employer.” Former but he wasn’t about to mention that to a stranger. He wished he’d had his badge to slap on the counter.

The man ran the license and swiped the credit card. “Driving record is clean. Card is good. When will you return the car?”

“Thursday evening or Friday morning.”

The man slid a set of keys across the counter. “The gray sedan out front. Just sign and the ride is yours.”

Simon glanced over the terms and signed. He grabbed his luggage and strode outside. After loading his bag, suit and sports coat, he got behind the wheel and eased into city traffic.

Before long he hit the interstate and aimed the car for Fern Lake. Each time the odometer registered another ten miles the knot in his gut tightened. He couldn’t decide if he moved forward or back. Maybe neither. He tried not to think about his reason for leaving town the day after he’d graduated second in his class. He’d given up a college scholarship and signed up for a tour in the marines. He’d aced those tests and spent a miserable tour in the service. Dashing into situations without thinking seemed in his nature.

A memory tickled. A female he’d dated had nailed him completely. Her face was blurred but her words were clear. “You’re an Aries.”

“So.”

“Means you charge into situations sword in hand.”

She’d been right. She’s also mentioned his tolerance for assholes and that he didn’t like having a boss. That was why he had no job to keep him from visiting a place he wanted to avoid.

The drive seemed endless. Finally he left the interstate and followed a familiar road past farms and small towns he remembered. He saw the Club perched high on a steep hill. He slowed to gawk. Where on the treacherous road with just enough room for two cars to pass had Randy crashed? Simon saw the broken guardrail and knew there’d been no chance of survival. A mile beyond the accident site he pulled into a motel where he had a reservation. With key in hand he found the room and carried his baggage inside.

When he sank on the edge of the bed memories good and bad roared into his thoughts like a cavalry charge. Football games with cheering crowds. Dirty tricks played by the twins. Dana’s smiles. His uncle’s interrogations. The lake and his friends.

Simon shook his head. No time for dwelling on the past. He needed to change, grab a bite and head to the funeral home to face his relatives. The viewing began at four. He planned to arrive in time to talk to Aunt May before the crowds arrived.

Move, he thought. And he did. Off with jeans and tee shirt. On with slacks and sports coat. He found a table in the coffee shop and froze. A woman with red hair dressed as a waitress approached. Dana. His heart hammered with a staccato rhythm. As the woman came closer he exhaled.  She wasn’t his former girlfriend. If he could manage this visit without seeing her he would breathe easier.

His hands clenched. Why had she married Randy? Why had she and his cousin divorced? Would she be present at the funeral home? He couldn’t imagine Dana marrying a man she cared nothing about. But that had been years ago. Who knew how much she’d changed.

He ordered coffee and a sandwich. The lunch lay like a brick in his gut when he left for the viewing.

His was the fifth car in the large parking lot. He parked away from the others. The pair of dark luxury sedans had to belong to his aunt and Robert Grantlan. He figured the sleek silver sports car for Rob’s and the flashy red one as Patricia’s.

Simon left the rental and squared his shoulders. If he faced an inquisition he needed to control his temper.

Just inside the foyer, he halted. His sixty something uncle by marriage stood at the table where a guest book sat. Though the older man wore a suit tailored for him, slumped shoulders made the lines appear rumpled. He turned.

“Mr. Grantlan, sorry for your loss.” Simon pressed his lips into a firm line. Years ago he had called the man uncle but not now.