The Life She Wants (27 page)

“Then you also know I don't move very fast,” she said. “And you're moving a little fast.”

“I don't have fifteen years.”

“I certainly wouldn't suggest you wait that long for someone like me,” she said. “Will you still have lunch with me?”

“Why? Is there more?” he asked.

“Please, Logan. I like you. I like you very much. I think our timing is a bit off and I'm being completely honest when I say that I'm not sure where this thing with Jock is headed. Is it possible you and I can remain friends?”

“Let's order lunch,” he said, opening his menu.

“Yes, let's,” she said, opening her menu. They made their choices, ordered and she said, “Thank you.”

“Don't thank me yet,” he said. “We're going to have lunch. And then I'm going to tell you—I don't really want to be friends. I was falling in love with you and I think you know it. And I also think maybe you're afraid of that. I was willing to wait, to put up with being third or fourth on your list. I was willing to take chances for you. So we're going to have lunch, talk a little then say goodbye. And if you're ever ready to pick this up where we left it, which was pretty close to the next level in the man-woman equation, you have my number. But I'm not waiting around while you check out your ex.”

“I don't think you understand at all,” she said.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “I understand. You might intend to just get to know him so you can be grandparents together but I guarantee you, that's not how he's going to see it.”

“How do you know that?”

“I'm a guy, Riley. That's how I know.”

* * *

It turned out that John Shay was the millionaire next door. An unpretentious, hardworking man of sensible but excellent taste. He and his first wife built themselves a solid house in a good neighborhood and he saved and invested all his life. Emma didn't come along until he was thirty-five and he lost his wife to diabetes-related kidney failure a year later. He had accrued a nice little nest egg by the time he died, and insurance paid off the house, which was valued at a million and a quarter.

John bought good cars and drove them until they died of old age, did all his own yard work and could have indulged in European vacations or maybe had a summer home, but instead he saved and invested. His second wife had worked, his children were always well dressed and he insisted on a good mattress. They never scrimped on food; they ate good, healthy meals. Emma would have expected her father to have left a reasonable sum that was meant to cover his retirement but she was completely unprepared for the estate to be worth several million dollars.

It was obvious that Rosemary did what she always had done where Emma was concerned—she took what was Emma's and gave it to Anna and Lauren, two young women who had inherited their mother's anger and bitterness. For a little while Emma was sad that those two had her father's house but then she thought about the two of them living there together in old age and her sadness turned to pity. She had no idea if either of them had a significant relationship or love in their lives but they seemed far too unhappy for that. But then Rosemary was a stiff and negative woman and she'd been married three times.

Emma gave Aaron her banking information and he arranged to have the money she was entitled to transferred into her bank account—she wasn't sure what she was going to do with it yet. After her experience with Richard she wasn't eager to turn it over to a broker or money manager so she thought maybe she'd study a little about investments herself, do something that felt safe. She was her father's daughter, after all.

Rosemary died and Emma paid her respects. Adam was her escort. She went only to the visitation and had a very large floral arrangement delivered. There weren't many people present, mostly friends of Anna and Lauren's, and Emma didn't stay long.

She told no one about the money, not even Adam. When he noticed she was a little melancholy she made the excuse that the final goodbye to Rosemary and probably her sisters had left her feeling a little let down. But it was the money. It bothered her. Worried her. She decided she had to get that off her back and planned to explain to Adam that she'd been blown away by an uncomfortably large sum.

She asked if she could cook dinner for him at his house on a Friday night. It was the end of January and he was thrilled by the offer. She wasn't much of a cook—so little practice over the years—so she made an extra-large pot of spaghetti and meatballs, bought prepared garlic bread that only needed a few minutes in the oven and threw together a simple salad.

“Perfect,” Adam said.

“I made a big batch so we can have fried spaghetti tomorrow night. If I'm invited back.”

“I want to be with you every night you'll have me,” he said.

“Adam, I have something to tell you. I've been keeping something from you. Just for a couple of weeks, but I have to tell someone and you're the only one that really matters.”

“I thought something was wrong,” he said. “I've been worried.”

She explained about the will. She didn't tell him how much she'd received but she said it was substantial.

“Emma, that's fantastic! But how in the world did Rosemary think she'd hide it from you?”

“I'm not sure, except that she managed the trust. The lawyer, who was my father's friend, said there was more, especially a third of the value of the house, if I wanted to fight for it. Adam, I put the money in the bank and I hope I don't regret it, but I asked Aaron not to pursue this any further. There's another check due when I'm thirty-five and I'll put that in the bank. My sisters...my lonely, angry, heartbroken sisters might be very rich but I won't challenge the management of the trust. I'm done. Just having more than ten thousand dollars in the bank makes me uncomfortable.”

He laughed. “Something for you to talk to Lucinda about,” he said. “But you have a little savings, Emma. The sky isn't falling anymore.”

“Why does having anything make me feel bad? Guilty?”

“And why does that surprise you after what Richard did? Listen, if you can't beat the guilt even with therapy, you can always give it all to charity.”

“Would you?”

“Oh, hell no,” he said with a grin. “I've been working my whole life for a savings account. I'm thirty-seven, have an IRA, a little money socked away, a schoolteacher's pension and my mortgage will be paid off in ten years because I always throw a little extra at the principal. Mom is taken care of, Riley is very successful, Maddie's college tuition is in the bank... We're in great shape. If someone dumped a bunch of money in my lap, I wouldn't feel guilt unless it was stolen.”

“But I bet you'd use it to help people,” she said.

“Emma, I help people every day. My mom helps people and animals. Riley thinks she's just working herself to death but look at what she's built and how it caters to the single mothers she employs. For most people helping people is either a way of life, or it's not.”

And she thought,
he is so right. I will just be still and quiet for a little while and I'll know exactly how to make my father's legacy help people.

“One of the best ways to help the world is to never be a burden to it. Give money, give time, give love, and make sure you give yourself a little to spare so you're not the one in need.”

“You are so wise,” she said.

“Poor boys work harder to be wise,” he said. “I'm very grateful not to be a poor boy anymore. And I'm really grateful for this spaghetti. And to know you have no real reason to be sad.”

They talked late into the night. They kicked back and forth many ideas of what it meant to really live well, to live in the moment, to be present and aware and to be grateful. What was plenty, really? Emma had been up and down the financial spectrum so many times—she should know. She'd been one of the well-off girls in school, struggled in college and almost didn't have enough money to join a sorority. Her first years in New York were awfully tight, but also filled with like creatures and great fun. Then there were the years with Richard during which she often felt like a visitor in her own life. And here she was in the arms of a good, honest man and everything seemed so real to her. So rich.

In the morning she began to stir when she heard him moving around. He got up, started the coffee, got in the shower. When she heard the shower shut off she went to the kitchen for coffee and the second her feet hit the floor she felt strange. Her stomach was upset. Her knees were a little weak.

She got to the kitchen and was overtaken by instant and powerful nausea and she dashed for the sink to be sick. She retched and choked, not that there was much there. She felt Adam come up behind her, take hold of her hair and gently rub her back. She ran the water, rinsed her mouth, reached for a paper towel and slowly, shakily, turned to face him.

He lifted one brow. “That spaghetti worked fine for me,” he said.

“I have no idea what's wrong,” she said. She sniffed. “I feel completely fine now. That coffee even smells good.”

“Emma,” he asked. “When did you last have a period?”

“Oh, shit,” she said.

* * *

It was next to impossible to get an immediate appointment with an OB, especially if you were a woman about four weeks pregnant. What they routinely did was give you vitamins and see you for the first time at a couple of months, maybe three months. But Adam taught with a man whose wife was an OB and called in a favor because Emma was worried. She was afraid she'd gotten a positive pregnancy test because something was terribly wrong. After all, she'd been through a little over a year of infertility tests and treatments.

“I can't see that anything is wrong,” Dr. Winnet said. “And you are definitely pregnant. Due in the fall.”

“But I was told my only hope was in vitro!”

“I'll request the records from your specialist and do a little blood work, but if you were infertile, you're not anymore. And you appear to be in excellent health.”

Her records were electronic and therefore transferred from Dr. Grimaldi in New York within a couple of days. Dr. Winnet called her. “I'm a little confused. You say he did a fertility workup? Because all I find in your chart is regular exams, birth control medication, one cyst removal.”

“No, no, not birth control pills. I was taking hormones to stimulate ovulation. I was x-rayed for blocked fallopian tubes. We were getting ready to harvest eggs for in vitro when...” She stopped.
When Richard said,
“
I don't have time to deal with this while I'm consumed with the investigation. They're demanding records constantly. Just let me get through this and we'll give it a go.”

“Maybe I can find better records at the hospital or surgical center where the procedures were performed.”

Emma took a deep breath and tried to think clearly. It couldn't be that it had all been a lie. “Dr. Grimaldi had his own surgi-center.” And she had gone with Richard after-hours because of Richard's impossible schedule.

“I'll call them, ask if they have records for your procedures.”

But there were none.

“Could the records have been lost?” Emma asked.

“Possible, but unlikely,” Dr. Winnet said. “It has happened, though it's rare. But all that aside, your blood work is good, your physical was excellent and you have no reason to worry.”

Emma would never know for sure, but she strongly suspected she'd been pulled into the web of Richard's many lies yet again. When she first suggested a baby, he didn't like the idea because of his age. When she pestered him, he made an appointment with Dr. Grimaldi—early evening when there was only one nurse present and no other patients. Emma had felt, as she often did, that she was given special treatment because of Richard. She was flattered to be seen by such an important doctor after the office was closed. Dr. Grimaldi had seemed thrilled to help Richard with this little problem. And now she thought Dr. Grimaldi had probably been very well paid for his fraud.

“I'd bet my life on it,” Emma told Adam. “He pulled off things I never could have dreamed of.”

“Well, the only thing I want to pull off with you is a child. I didn't think I'd ever be a father.”

“You don't have much choice now, do you?” she said.

“You're going to have to come clean with Riley,” he said. “We can do it together, you can do it your own way, you can enlist June to help, but it has to be done. Like it or not, we're all family now.”

“I'm sorry for the surprise, for the shock,” Emma said.

“I'm not,” he said. “I wasn't sure how I'd ever convince you to give me a chance. I couldn't be happier about it. And all I want to do is make you happy. Think you can live with that?”

She smiled and touched his sweet face. “I'm sure I can.”

Chapter Twenty

Maddie had a date for the Valentine's dance. It was her first official date, the kind where a boy formally asks a girl for a special occasion, when a perfect dress has to be found. But, there were three sophomore couples going together, not a sixteen-year-old among them, thank God. So they were chauffeured by parents. And Jock came over to Riley's house to see Maddie all dressed up and picked up by her date.

He didn't act like one of those caricature dads who growled and threatened the skinny young man, and Riley was so proud of him for that. He was completely comfortable, complimenting Maddie, grinning at the kids, taking a few pictures and texting them to his side of the family. And when they were gone, off to the dance, Riley opened a bottle of wine and poured them each a glass.

She clinked his glass in a toast. “That's going to be hard to get used to—watching her go off with a man like that.”

“That wasn't a man,” he said. He pulled her down on the couch beside him. “She's going to figure us out real soon, you know.”

“I think she has no idea it's you I've been talking to at night.”

“It's probably none of my business, but what happened to the other guy?”

“We parted on friendly terms,” Riley said. “I invited him to lunch, told him that many circumstances combined to make me realize I wanted to get to know my daughter's father better. He was pretty civil about it.”

“
Pretty
civil?” Jock asked.

“He's a very nice guy and I suggested we stay in touch, remain friends, and he said no, thank you.”

“Smart man,” Jock said.

“What are we going to do if we don't work out?” Riley asked.

“You mean if it doesn't work for you? It's working pretty well for me.”

“I don't want Maddie traumatized,” Riley said. “You know she'll be thrilled to think of her parents romantically involved. What if we hit a wall, fight, split apart again? What if that happens?”

He smiled and just shook his head. “Couples argue sometimes. People disagree.” He put his arm around her and pulled her closer. “It's okay if that happens. But those things that kept us apart as teenagers—we don't have those things to wrestle with anymore. At least I don't. I'm not scared and immature anymore. And you and Maddie are my family. You think I won't do anything under the sun to protect that?”

“How long have you been like this?” she asked him.

“I don't know. Look, I'm not the smart one. But my mother says I have good common sense.”

“There hasn't been anyone for me,” she said. “No one.”

He chuckled. “I wish I could say the same, but I made a few women completely miserable, looking for someone to love.”

“It is positively ridiculous that we've loved each other for all these years and couldn't get together on anything.”

“I think Emma has something to do with it.”

“Emma?”

“Riley, you've been hung up about Emma for sixteen years. Feeling guilty, angry, lonely. You blamed yourself for so much. You blamed her when you couldn't blame yourself anymore. Then she came back, wounded after all she went through, and you saw that she was just a hurt little girl willing to do whatever she had to do to get her life back. Just like you had been. The two people who had failed you in the worst time you'd ever faced—me and Emma—are back, hoping for another chance to be there for you.”

“I get that you are, but Emma?”

“Emma. Working for your company, following your rules, staying away so she doesn't crowd you, visiting your mother in secret so she doesn't anger you. Just coming back, she reminded you that all our mistakes were so, so long ago. And some of them turned out to be real gifts. She wants to be your friend again, Riley. And I want to be your man.”

“After all this time,” she said.

“I couldn't get close to you before now,” he said. “It wasn't your fault. I don't blame you. I was such an asshole. But we have what it takes now.”

“Ever since you lost your spleen, I've been very satisfied.”

“Nice to be a little older, isn't it? The backseat of a car or a sandy beach sure can be a challenge. Maddie can't come home early without calling one of us for a ride. Let's go to bed and take our time, huh?”

It amazed Riley that her old passionate feelings for Jock when she was so young could feel just as fresh and new now. But vastly improved. Now she couldn't help but be aware that his every touch was meant simply to please her. They had only renewed this part of their relationship about a week before and already they were like seasoned lovers, like old pros. He worked her body like he'd been doing it for years. The Jock she'd been so angry with had been replaced by a tender and unselfish man. The Jock she always thought of as an idiot was actually a very funny, intuitive man. And the man who had been such a giving father to their daughter proved he could be trusted.

She curled up to him and whispered, “I think you are a wonderful lover.”

“Or you are and it makes me look good,” he said, kissing her.

Pressed up against his warm body, she drifted back in time for a while. They didn't have the tools to make it when they were kids. Nor the wisdom and patience. But they had those things now.

It seemed that only seconds had passed when the sound of the front door opening woke them. Riley looked over Jock's shoulder at the clock. It was midnight. “Oh, God, what are we going to do?”

“Mom?” Maddie yelled.

“I think we're coming out of the closet,” Jock said. “Unless you have a better idea.”

“Mom? You went to bed? I thought you'd wait up to hear about the—” She stood in the doorway. Her mouth hung open; her eyes were big and round. “Dad?” she asked, confused. “What are you
doing
?
”

“Hmm. Well, we couldn't find the Scrabble game...”

* * *

Late Sunday morning, Riley went to Emma's little bungalow. She knew the address from her employment records and she wasn't going to do what she had to do at work. She immediately thought it was so cute, sitting on a street with a lot of little houses, big trees and old people—not a child in sight. She parked on the street and recognized her brother's SUV in front of the house. Hmm. That should make things easy. Sort of.

She tapped on the door and Emma opened it wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She jumped in surprise when she saw Riley.

“Sorry for the shock,” Riley said. “Sorry I didn't call ahead. I didn't want you worrying about what I wanted. I didn't want you to waste a lot of energy trying to prepare yourself. Can we talk?”

“Adam's here,” Emma said almost shyly.

“I saw his car.”

Then there he was, right behind Emma, his hand on Emma's shoulder. And he was frowning. “Riley?”

“I just wanted to talk to Emma for a moment. And you, also. Okay?”

“Sure,” Emma said. “Of course. I just fixed a cup of tea. Would you like one?”

“That would be nice. If you're sure it's all right...”

“Come inside, Riley,” she said, holding the door open.

“I'll get that tea,” Adam said.

Riley looked around the pleasant little room and smiled. It was very understated, comfortable and homey. “You must really like it here,” she said to Emma. “But what a difference for you.”

“A very positive difference. Riley, I wasn't intentionally keeping my relationship with Adam a secret. It felt as if... Well, as if you really didn't want to know.”

“One of the many things I probably should work on—that control thing. Emma, we've worked well together...”

“Despite the fact that I can't seem to follow the rules...”

“I'm not here about that. A long, long time ago I did you wrong and I'm sorry. I wasn't just being a terrible girlfriend, an untrustworthy friend. There was a bit more to it—I fell for Jock. I don't blame you at all for being furious, for ending our friendship. It's what I would have done.”

“It was a long time ago,” Emma said. “My feelings were hurt and I was angry, but if I'm honest I have to admit, I'd already moved on from Jock. I think I kept up the grudge for so long because I'd lost you.”

Adam handed Riley a cup of tea, but she put it on the small sofa table in front of her. “I think we were all collateral damage. Jock and Adam and Mom, too. A couple of girlfriends, friends for life, fell out over a guy and there were dead bodies everywhere. I'm here to tell you again, I'm sorry for what I did to you. And I'd like another chance.”

“Of course,” Emma said. “Why now?”

“Because Jock and I are back together. After sixteen difficult years.”

Emma actually stood up from her chair. “Really?” Then she slowly sat. “Really?”

“Jock's always been a good father to Maddie, when I'd let him. And when he was in the accident and I saw how terrified Maddie was I decided I'd waited way too long to have a closer look, to make an effort with Jock. He loves Maddie so much. He's not the same kid who messed up our friendship, Emma. He's a good man. And I find I still care about him.”

“Oh, that's so sweet,” Emma said. “What could be better? Yes, of course we should give ourselves another chance. But don't worry—I will remember you're my employer when we're at work.”

“I'm not worried about that. I have a feeling you won't work for me much longer. You have too much talent...” Riley took a breath. “So? You two are official?” she asked of Emma and Adam.

“More than official,” Adam said. “We're pregnant.”

“Are you kidding me?” Riley said. “Does Mom know?”

“We have to take care of that,” Adam said. “Easier now that you know.”

“And you're getting married?” Riley asked.

“We're still kind of in shock, but probably.”

Riley got a little teary. She felt the emotion welling up inside her. “We should've worked on this a long time ago, let go of the baggage and grudges—”

There was suddenly a hard knocking at the door and they all froze. There was something about it that signaled it was not an ordinary visitor. Certainly not Penny. Adam opened the door and was met with two badges. “We're looking for Emma Shay.”

Riley stood. “Logan?”

“Riley,” he said with a nod. “Ms. Shay, we've met. I'm Logan Danner. This is my partner, Georgianna Severs. We have some questions for you and would appreciate your cooperation.”

“What kind of questions?” Adam demanded.

“Yeah, what kind of questions?” Riley chimed in. “What are you doing here?”

“Just some questions, Ms. Shay. We'd like you to come to the station to be interviewed.”

“About...?” Emma said.

“About the disposition of your late husband's estate.”

“My late husband didn't have an estate,” she said. “Am I under arrest?”

“At this point it's just an investigation.”

“She's not going anywhere with you,” Adam said.

“Wait a minute here,” Riley said. “Is this a coincidence? You wanting to question Emma?”

“Ms. Kerrigan, we don't have any reason to detain or question you,” Georgianna said. “Ms. Shay?”

“No, wait,” Riley said. “Have you been investigating Emma?”

“Ask me whatever you like,” Emma said. “Just make it quick.”

“We'd like you to come to the office so that we can record and have a record of our interview.”

“I wonder if my lawyer would approve of that idea...”

“We're not filing any charges at this point. We're not going to be reading you your rights. If you'd just answer those questions you can, we'd very much appreciate it. No one wants to arrest you.”

“And this is in regards to...?” Emma persisted.

“Large sums of money appearing in your accounts, ma'am,” Georgianna said.

“Ah,” she said. “So you've had a warrant, the only way you could legally watch my account. I see. I'll drive myself to your office and I'll answer your questions—with my lawyer present.”

“No, Emma,” Adam said, taking her elbow in a soft grip. “I don't want you to do this. There's no reason.”

“Yes, let's get this over with,” she said. She looked at Logan. “Is the warrant for banking records?” He nodded. “And what else? Have you been in my house?”

Logan shook his head.

“What else is your warrant for?” she asked.

“Banking and phone. Let's do this, Ms. Shay. You're eventually going to have to answer our questions. We don't want to ask for an arrest warrant.”

“And I don't want you to,” she said. “I'll call my lawyer and drive myself over. I'm not going to take off.” She grabbed her purse and jacket. “This must be exciting for you,” she said. “It's Sunday morning.”

“And you knew exactly where to find her,” Riley said.

“They've always known, Riley,” Emma said. “They've been watching me. They want to know if I have some secret hidden money from my husband. They're going to watch me forever. And they're not going to find anything because there isn't anything.” She looked at Logan and Georgianna. “Let's get this over with.”

“I'm going with you,” Adam said, grabbing his jacket.

“I'm going, too,” Riley said.

* * *

Three hours later Emma and Aaron emerged from the interview room to find Adam and Riley waiting. By quick consensus, they decided to go to a nearby Mexican restaurant to talk and order something to eat and drink. Aaron excused himself from the group. Riley beat them inside and secured a booth. The waitress was beside them right away.

“I think we're going to need three wines. Any preference?” Riley asked.

“I'm having tea,” Emma said. “Just any hot tea, please. Milk and sugar.”