Starting Over (Treading Water Trilogy) (21 page)

Thank you for your lovely letter. I appreciate you taking the time to write to apologize for what happened at your parents’ home. I understand you were in the throes of your illness that night, and I forgive you. I was also pleased to hear you’re making such positive strides in your recovery.

I, too, am sorry things did not work out between Aidan and me. He’s a wonderful person, and I feel blessed to have known him and the rest of the O’Malleys. You’re fortunate to have the support of such a strong and loving family at this time in your life. Please give your parents my best regards. Thank you again for your letter.

All the best,

Clare Harrington

Brandon sighed with relief. It was good of her to forgive him, but he was again swamped with remorse—and shame—over what he’d done to her.

Dennis was waiting for Brandon when he arrived at the apartments.

“Hey, have you been waiting long?”

“Just got here,” Dennis replied.

“Thanks for the help today.”

“No problem. A man can’t hang cabinets by himself. Besides, I appreciate the excuse to get out of the house. Your Mum’s driving me nuts planning this trip to Ireland.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Not until September, but I swear it’s all she talks about. Five more months of this before we even go!”

Brandon laughed at his father’s distress. “Why don’t you throw her a ringer and take her to New York for a weekend to change the subject?” he asked as they climbed the stairs to Mrs.
Oczkowski’s
apartment. The new kitchen cabinets were scattered about on the floor of her living room.

“That’s not a bad idea.” Dennis ducked around the corner to inspect Brandon’s work in the bathroom. “Nice job, son.” He nodded with approval at the gleaming new vanity, freshly painted walls, and tiled floor. “It looks great.”

“Thanks. That’s your training paying off.”

“What pleases me most is I haven’t gotten a single call from a tenant since you’ve been here.”

“They’re nice people. Did you know Mr. Pauley in 2C was a Flying Tiger in World War II? He was telling me all about it the other day.”

“I didn’t know that.” Dennis helped Brandon carry the first of the cabinets into the kitchen. “Hey, have you talked to Colin?”

Brandon had to stop to think. “You know, now that you mention it, not in a week or so. I’ve left him a couple of messages, but he hasn’t called me back, which isn’t like him. Why do you ask?”

“I hear he’s been kind of cranky at work. I had lunch with Dec yesterday, and he says Colin’s been a bear.”

“That’s odd. I wonder what’s up.”

“I hope he’s not overwhelmed by the new job. I worry that I dumped it all on him and walked away.”

“You didn’t dump it on him, Da. He’s been preparing for this his whole life. He should be in his element running the show. I’ll stop by in the next day or two and check on him.”

As Brandon prepared the wall for the first of the cabinets, he noticed his father watching him. “What?”

“It’s nice to have you back,” Dennis said softly. “From wherever it was you were the last couple of years.”

Brandon smiled. “It’s good to be back.”

Brandon and his father were hanging the last of the cabinets when Mike came bursting through the open door to Mrs.
Oczkowski’s
apartment. She stopped short when she saw that Brandon wasn’t alone.

“Hey, squirt, how was school?”

“It was great. We got to finger paint today.”

“Did you get any on the paper?” Brandon asked with a grin. Her shirt was covered with paint.

She gave him her now-familiar withering look. “Very funny. I’m Mike,” she said, reaching out a hand to Dennis.

“Are you now? I’m Dennis O’Malley. Pleased to meet you.”

“He’s my dad,” Brandon said.

“You’re lucky. I don’t have a dad.”

Brandon put down the caulking gun and turned to her. “No, you don’t. But you have friends like me, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Mike!” Daphne called from the hallway.

“In here!” Mike yelled.

Dennis gasped when Daphne came through the door.

“Oh, hello, Mr. O’Malley.”

“Hello, there, how are you?” Dennis managed to say.

Brandon hid his amusement at his father’s fumbling reaction to Daphne.

Daphne’s cheeks flushed when she glanced at Brandon. “Mike, you need to go finish your lunch.”

“Can I come back after?” Mike asked Brandon.

Brandon squatted down to talk to her. “Today I have to say no because my dad and I are cutting out Mrs.
Oczkowski’s
new countertop, and we have to use some really dangerous tools.”

Her face fell with disappointment.

“How about I come see you after I’m done at work? Would that be okay?”

That seemed to be all she needed to hear. “Okay,” she said, skipping out the door to go finish her lunch.

“Um, could I talk to you for a minute?” Daphne asked Brandon.

“Sure. I’ll be right back, Da.”

Brandon ignored his father’s raised eyebrow when he put a hand on Daphne’s back to guide her from the apartment.

“What’s up?” he asked when they were in the hallway. He wanted to pull her into his arms and show her how much he’d missed her since he saw her last.

“I’m, ah, I’m mortified by the way I acted last night.”

“What do you mean?” Brandon asked, confused. “There wasn’t anything to be mortified about.”

“I was like a sex-starved maniac,” she whispered as her cheeks flushed with color that he found adorable—and arousing.

Brandon laughed and put his arms around her. “And here I’ve spent all day hoping you might jump my bones again tonight.”

“
Stop
,” she moaned, burying her face in his denim work shirt. “It’s embarrassing.”

Tilting her chin up, he kissed her lightly. “There’s nothing embarrassing about it.” He backed her up against the wall and pressed his erection against her. “You think you’re embarrassed? Look at the condition you’ve got me in just being near you.”

“
Brandon
,” she gasped.

Laughing at her scandalized expression, he kissed her nose and then her lips. “No more talk about being embarrassed, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Can I take you and Mike out to dinner tonight?”

“She’d love that.”

Brandon pressed his lips to her neck. “How about you?”

“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “Me, too.”

Brandon gave himself a good five minutes to settle down after Daphne left him to go upstairs to Mike. When he finally returned to Mrs.
Oczkowski’s
apartment, Dennis pounced.

“Are you
canoodling
with the tenant from hell?” Dennis asked in a loud whisper.

Brandon laughed. “What the hell does
canoodling
mean?”

“You know what it means. Are you?”

“Maybe.”

“But she’s…”

“What?”

“Awful,” Dennis said with characteristic bluntness. “Don’t be fooled by how she looks.”

“That’s not fair, Da. You don’t even know her. She’s raising that little girl all by herself. She hasn’t had it easy.”

“The kid sure is a cutie,” Dennis said. “I couldn’t believe the way she introduced herself.”

“She’s an amazing kid.”

“Go easy with the mother, son. There’s something about her that bothers me. She’s lucky I let her stay here when I bought the place. She pays her rent in cash, she would only sign a month-to-month lease, and she refused to give me her last address. That’s odd, wouldn’t you say?”

Brandon kept his expression neutral so his father wouldn’t see just how odd he found it. “I guess, but that doesn’t mean it’s shady. She could have a perfectly good reason for all we know.”

“I don’t like it, and I don’t want to see you hurt by her. You’ve been through enough.”

“Don’t worry about me, Da. I can take care of myself.”

After Dennis left, Brandon went looking for Mike. He had missed her incessant chatter that afternoon. From the second-floor hallway, he saw her bouncing a ball on the sidewalk that ran along the back of the building.

He went down the back stairs and out the door into the warm mid-April day. The yellow forsythia bushes in the backyard were in bloom, and the air was filled with the fragrant smell of spring. Brandon couldn’t remember the last time he’d noticed a change of season.

Mike was concentrating on dribbling the ball and didn’t see him coming.

“What’s up, squirt?”

Surprised, she looked up at him. “Are you done working?”

“For now. What’re you up to?”

“Nothing.”

“What’s the matter?”

She shrugged.

“Want to walk down to the park?”

“I guess.”

“Go tell your mom.”

She went into the house without her usual exuberance and was still listless when she returned wearing a sweater.

Brandon lifted her to his shoulders to carry her the short distance to the park. “So how come you never play on the swing set in the yard?”

“My mom won’t let me. She says I’d need a
tetchis
shot to play on that rusty old thing.”

Brandon laughed. “You mean tetanus? I guess it is kind of rusty.”

As Brandon pushed her on the swing, he studied the playground equipment and was struck with an idea that took shape over the next few minutes. He was startled out of his thoughts when she suddenly asked him to stop pushing her.

“What’s wrong, honey?” He eased the swing to a stop. “You’re not yourself today.”

“My stomach hurts,” she said, clutching her middle.

He ran a hand over her face and discovered she was burning up. “You’ve got a fever. Come on, let’s get you home.”

“Wait,” she said when he tried to pick her up. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

Brandon moved fast to carry her over to the big open garbage can and held her as her little body convulsed with wave after wave of nausea. He’d never felt so helpless.

When it was finally over, tears spilled down her cheeks. “Sorry,” she whispered.

Her embarrassment broke his heart. “Don’t be sorry, baby. You couldn’t help it.” He tugged a bandanna from his back pocket and wiped her face and mouth before he hoisted her gently into his arms.

She rested her head on his shoulder and was asleep before he made it through the gate at the park.

Brandon got her home as fast as he could and tapped on Daphne’s door.

She was alarmed to find Brandon carrying a sleeping Mike. “What happened?”

“She said her stomach hurt, and then she threw up. She’s really hot, too.” He followed Daphne to Mike’s room and settled the child on the bed.

Daphne untied Mike’s red sneakers and pulled them off. “She seemed fine when she came up to tell me she was going with you.”

“She was kind of blah.” Brandon smoothed the hair off Mike’s hot forehead. “Definitely not herself.”

“I’m going to go grab the thermometer. I’ll be right back.” She returned a minute later and gasped when the thermometer reached 102 degrees. “God, that came out of nowhere. She was fine earlier.”

“What do we do?” Brandon asked, gripped with worry for his little friend. He glanced up to find Daphne looking at him with an odd expression on her face. “What is it? Are you scared?”

“No. It’s just a fever, and she’ll be fine, but that’s the first time anyone’s ever asked me, ‘What do
we
do.’”

Touched, he reached for her hand. “So what do
we
do?”

“
We
give her some Tylenol and hope she isn’t sick all night.”

Brandon helped her rouse Mike long enough to get her to swallow the liquid Tylenol. Then they changed her into pajamas and flipped on the nightlight. Daphne tucked a barf bucket and Brandon the Bear into bed next to Mike.

Daphne tugged on Brandon’s hand to get him to leave Mike to sleep. “She’ll be okay.”

“Promise?” Brandon leaned over to kiss Mike’s warm cheek one last time.

“Remember what I said about super elastic bubble plastic?”

He finally let her lead him to the living room, where she held out her arms to him.

“You’ve had a trial by fire the last two days—a bump on the head and a puking incident. You’re going to run for your life away from us.”

“No, I’m not,” he said in a husky voice as he buried his face in her fragrant blonde hair.

“Sorry about dinner.”

“We can do it another time. Why don’t I go get us some takeout?”

She pulled back to look at him. “You don’t have to do that. You’ve probably got better things to do than sit at home with a sick child.”