Starting Now (33 page)

“Yes … I suppose I will.”

“Sorry to make this so short but I’ve got a zillion things to do.”

“Okay, well, congratulations.”

“Thank you, Dad.”

This was probably one of the longest telephone conversations Libby had experienced with her father in the last ten years. She felt good; in fact, she felt wonderful. The next person she phoned was Robin.

“It’s a girl,” she cried.

“Ava had her baby?”

“An hour ago.”

“Why didn’t you text me?” Robin cried. “I would have come to the hospital.”

Libby had badly wanted to contact her friend but she hadn’t been able to. “Ava wouldn’t let me leave her side for more than a minute. She did great, by the way. That girl has got grit.”

“Are you ready?”

“Ready?”

“Do you have what you need to bring her home from the hospital?”

“Not a single thing.” Libby started to giggle. “The truth is that for someone as focused and organized as me, I’m vastly unprepared. Obviously I had no idea she’d choose to arrive four weeks early.”

“What time is it?” Robin asked.

“After eight,” Libby said, checking her watch.

“The stores are closed; you’ll need to go in the morning and I’m coming with you,” Robin announced.

A workday and Robin was joining her? “You can do that?”

“I’ll take a personal day. The two of us will head to the mall and buy out the baby store.”

Libby could hardly believe that Robin would willingly take a day away from work, and then she started to giggle all over again.

Robin held up a dainty pink dress and her heart felt like it was going to melt. It was incredibly cute. “You have got to get this,” she insisted and draped it over her arm along with the ten other outfits she felt were absolutely necessary for Libby’s daughter.

“Robin, I can’t buy all this stuff. Remember, I’m on a limited budget.”

“Maybe you are, but I’m not and I’m Amy Jo’s godmother.” Robin had been thrilled when Libby honored her by requesting she take on this special role in young Amy’s life. She took the responsibility seriously. In due course, when Amy Jo could read, Robin would purchase the little girl her first Bible. She’d see to it that Libby got her daughter to Sunday school, too. If Libby didn’t go then she’d escort the little girl personally. To Robin’s way of thinking every child needed a secure foundation in faith. Even if she personally hadn’t darkened a church doorway in years, she still considered faith important.

“I’m bushed,” Libby said, her face beaming with happiness, “not to mention out of money.”

Robin knew that Libby was anxious to get to the hospital to visit Ava and the baby. She’d already stopped by earlier that morning before heading out on their shopping expedition, and was eager to return. Robin didn’t know what time Libby had gotten home the night before but she realized it must have been late. In all the years she’d known Libby, Robin had never seen her friend so joyful, so excited.

Robin was genuinely happy for her. The joy seemed to spill over onto her as well. How could it not? Despite the disappointment she’d felt after Roy’s visit to her condo, she had become infected with Libby’s happiness. It felt good to dwell on someone other than the judge. She just hoped his late wife had appreciated how much he loved her.

Robin left Libby at around two that afternoon. Instead of going to the courthouse she returned to her condo. If she showed up at the office she was bound to be bombarded with work. That was the nature of the beast, working as a prosecuting attorney. Working from home would be less intrusive than going into the office. Answering a day’s worth of emails was sure to take her well into the late afternoon.

Once home, Robin kicked off her shoes and poured herself a glass of iced tea. After a couple of sips, she logged on to her computer. Just as she suspected, the emails started to roll in, filling up the screen. She tackled them one at a time until she felt fairly confident that she had a handle on the most pressing ones. Now, when she returned to the office on Wednesday, the list of demands wouldn’t overwhelm her.

Her doorbell rang. Libby for sure. Barefoot, Robin hurried to the front door, finding it amusing that they’d parted only a few hours ago and her friend was already back.

Only it wasn’t Libby.

For the second time, she found Judge Roy Bollinger standing on the other side of the door, clenching a white sack in his hand. He looked completely out of his element. Seeing her, the color seemed to drain from his face.

“Roy,” she whispered, shocked to see him. Her eyes went wide until she feared they would fall out of their sockets. Since their last
encounter they had passed each other in the courthouse nearly every day and both had looked the other way, pretending … she didn’t know what.

“You’re not sick?” he asked, and it seemed to disappoint him that she was obviously in good health.

“No.”

“You weren’t in court,” he argued.

“I took a personal day.”

“Oh.” Roy thrust the white paper bag at her and seemed eager to turn tail and run.

Now that he was at her front door, she didn’t want him to leave. “What’s this?” she asked, delaying him.

He made a self-effacing smile. “Chicken noodle soup. I assumed you must be ill.”

“As you can see I’m perfectly fine.”

“I can see. And yes, you look just … fine.” He paused and cleared his throat. “Actually you look more than fine. You look wonderful.”

Compliments didn’t roll off Roy’s tongue the way they did for some men, but she couldn’t help but blush. “Do you want to come inside?” she asked.

He hesitated. Now that she held the sack, he buried his hands deep inside his pockets. “You’ve … never missed a day without being sick. Well, other than recently.”

“Until today,” she amended, and then remembered she had called in sick following their disastrous date. “I was out shopping with a friend.”

“A friend?” he repeated slowly, casting his gaze down to his feet. Apparently he assumed her “friend” was male.

“Libby Morgan, you met her the night we had drinks,” she said, clarifying the issue. She didn’t want to give him the impression she was seeing anyone else, because she wasn’t.

Just as quickly his eyes came back to meet hers and he visibly relaxed. “Of course, I know Libby.”

“She’s adopting a baby girl and she asked me to be the godmother. I helped her pick out what she needs for the nursery.”

“I didn’t know Libby was married.” His brow crunched with a perplexed look.

“She isn’t.” It seemed a little ridiculous for the two of them to be standing in her doorway chatting like this. “Roy, please come inside.” She reached for his hand and gently brought him into her condo.

He glanced around as if seeing it for the first time. Robin resisted the urge to tell him that she hadn’t changed residences in the last week.

“I’m grateful to hear you’re not ill.”

“Roy,” she said, and hesitated. Neither of them seemed to know what to say. She certainly didn’t and he seemed just as much at a loss for words, and so they just stood there staring at each other.

“I’ve … been doing some thinking,” he blurted out.

“Oh,” she said, just as quickly.

“About what you said about … you not being a replacement for Sally.”

Robin’s knees felt like they were about to give out from under her. She sank onto the sofa. As soon as she sat down, Roy did, too. He was so close to the edge of the chair cushion that for a moment she feared he might fall off. She waited for him to speak. He was the one who seemed to have something he wanted to say.

“Basically, you’re right. I was looking for a woman who would step into Sally’s shoes, someone who would make my life the way it was when she was alive.”

“That woman isn’t me,” she said, and while it saddened her to admit it, she couldn’t change who she was no matter how deeply she cared for Roy.

“I realize that now. It dawned on me that I wasn’t attracted to you because you’re like Sally. You’re not in any way, shape, or form like her.”

All Robin could do was stare at him.

“Sally would never get a tattoo.”

So he’d noticed that. Instinctively she wanted to thrust her arm behind her back. Pride demanded she didn’t.

“I admire you because you’re decisive and direct,” Roy continued. “You have a strong work ethic and you care about the law, about helping those who are willing to accept help. Too many of us have become jaded and cynical when dealing with the criminal element.”

That was true. Her mother worried that that was happening to Robin, and perhaps it was. Robin had a reputation at the courthouse for being hard on criminals and defense attorneys. Her attitude toward those who broke the law was unyielding. She believed in stiff consequences. But she didn’t care what others thought of her, save one man … Roy Bollinger.

“I came today to drop off the soup. I assumed you were sick so I’m not really prepared, you know, to talk about this.”

Robin wasn’t about to let him go so soon. “You’re here now, though,” she argued.

“That I am,” he said, and stared down at his hands. “First of all I want to apologize for being obtuse. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I promise you I’ll never ask you to play bridge or go dancing unless that is something you want to do.”

“That’s in the past, Roy. But if it eases your mind, your apology is accepted.”

“Thank you.” His gaze connected with hers. He actually almost smiled, as if she’d lifted a heavy burden from his shoulders. “I was hoping you’d be willing to give me another chance.” He paused and seemed to be awaiting her response.

“I’d be willing …”

“In that case, I’d like to ask you to have dinner.”

“Tonight?”

“Tonight,” he echoed. “If you’re free, that is, or tomorrow or the day after tomorrow—or any day you suggest.” He smiled completely now.

“Tonight would work.”

“Great.” He stood and reached for her hand, bringing her to her feet. He frowned when he saw the tattoo. “What is that, anyway?” he asked.

“A Chinese character,” which was the same thing she’d told anyone
else who’d asked. She and the tattoo artist were the only two people who knew its meaning; well, other than those who were fluent in Chinese.

“What does it stand for?” he asked, and then glanced up when she hesitated.

“It’s a little embarrassing, actually,” she said, resisting the urge to pull her hand free. If she hadn’t craved his touch, even in the most innocent of ways, she would have. Just being this close to him made her feel light-headed. In her entire life Robin had never felt this strongly about any man, not even her husband, as brief as her marriage had been.

“The tattoo embarrasses you now?” Roy asked.

“Not really.”

“Then the meaning?”

“Not that, either,” she admitted.

“Then what embarrasses you?”

She held her breath for several seconds before she was willing to tell him. “My feelings for you.” Robin stared at him, unable to breathe, unable to even blink.

“Feelings?” Roy asked, his voice low and carefully modulated.

Turning her wrist so he could see her tattoo again, she said, “I haven’t told anyone what this Chinese character means, but I’ll tell you.”

His gaze held hers.

“Libby and I had a bit too much to drink and decided we would each get a tattoo. Actually she wanted one. I didn’t, but I went to the tattoo parlor with her anyway and helped her decide on a butterfly.”

“So you got the tattoo when you were with her.”

“Hers is in a place you’ll never see,” Robin added.

“Okay.”

“While I was there I started looking at all the different designs. None of them got my attention or gave me the slightest desire to have something permanently placed on my body, until I happened upon this Chinese character.”

Roy frowned slightly. “It must have a deep personal meaning for you.”

“It does,” she agreed, her voice weakening. “It’s the Chinese character for hope,” she whispered.

“Hope,” he repeated. “Why that?”

“You gave me that, Roy. I didn’t ever think it was possible for me to care as deeply for a man as I do for you. I’ve admired you for so long, and hoped that you might one day share my feelings.” She stopped as she considered whether or not to bare so much of her heart.

His entire face seemed to go limp. “I had no idea. Since when?” he asked.

Having taken the conversation to this point, it didn’t make sense to turn back. “Ever since we worked on that political committee all those years ago. You were the most decent, kindest man I’d ever met. I dreamed of meeting someone like you for a very long while and it never happened. My problem was that you were married to Sally and so I said nothing. Did nothing.”

“Oh, Robin …” He slipped his arms around her and brought her close, pressing his mouth to hers. His lips were warm and moist, gentle and persuasive.

He angled his head to one side and continued to kiss her until Robin was sure she would dissolve into a puddle at his feet. Her hands roved his back and she leaned into him. By the time he eased his mouth from hers, Robin was trembling.

He held her away from him but his hands continued to cup her shoulders. “I don’t know that anyone has ever said anything more beautiful, or more perfect to me.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “It would be very easy to love you.”