Wish on the Moon (4 page)

Unconditional love. Thank God for mothers.
But he had to be realistic for her sake as well as his. "Answer me
one question, Mom. If we were as poor as we were ten years ago, do
you think he'd be coming home?"

"I hope so."

Mitch fell silent. His mother had always been
naive where Carey was concerned. She consistently made excuses for
him just as she had for her irresponsible, gambling, drinking
husband. Carey had been his father's favorite. And unfortunately he
had picked up many of their dad's bad habits. Mitch had inherited
his goals, industry, and ambition from his mother. During all those
years she'd kept food on the table and a roof over their heads by
working long hours at a tailor shop and taking in private sewing
work at night. She deserved love and admiration from Carey, not
heartache.

Mitch finally asked, "Did he say when he's
coming?"

"Next week maybe. He wasn't sure." Nora
tenderly touched the scar on Mitch's cheek. "You still blame him,
don't you?"

"No. But I do blame him for the worry he
caused you."

"He was hurting, Mitch. He missed your
father--"

Mitch's hand swished through the air in
frustration. "What he wanted always came first and it still does.
Another paycheck would have helped us make ends meet. Instead he
ran with his buddies and left town at the first opportunity."

She assessed him cautiously. "We're all a
little selfish. You much less than your brother, though."

Mitch closed his eyes. He supposed most
people were selfish. But some were a lot more selfish than others.
Carey and Laura were prime examples.

Laura. Lord, that woman rubbed him the wrong
way. Her eyes never stopped studying him, questioning. Maybe she
had an innate curiosity like her daughter. What did he care?
Because he was trying to figure her out...and suddenly, himself,
too. Just when he thought he had his reactions to her under
control, something went haywire. The best thing to do was keep his
distance.

He opened his eyes and unlatched the car
door.

***

"Laura! Mandy!"

Laura would know that deep baritone anywhere.
It not only echoed up the spiral staircase to the library/loft, but
resonated through her body, vibrating a hidden part. "We're up
here," she called.

Mandy ran to the top of the staircase and
started to climb down. Laura's "Be careful, honey," was lost as her
daughter found Mitch at the bottom. Her excitement spilled out. "We
were explorin'. Mommy let me go into all the rooms. We sat on the
bed she slept in when she was little. It's pink and white." She
waved to the loft. "And there's bunches of books up there."

Mitch had discarded his suitcoat and tie and
rolled his sleeves above his forearms. Laura noted the black wavy
hair and wondered if his chest was covered with it too.

He lifted Mandy into his arms as if she were
as light as a bag of Oreos. "You've been busy. There's someone
downstairs I want you to meet."

Laura was thankful Mitch's cool reserve
didn't extend to her daughter. She descended the stairs, careful of
her footing.

As she neared the bottom, Mitch blocked her
path. "Refamiliarizing yourself?"

She could smell his cologne, stronger this
morning, now faded into a nuance she could hardly distinguish. She
wondered how he smelled without it. Did he always look so sexy?

She ignored her increased pulse rate. "Mandy
was fascinated by all the rooms. She's never seen so many doors. I
think the most fun for her was opening and closing them."

"Are you going to put her in your old
room?"

On the second step, Laura was as tall as
Mitch and could look straight into his incredibly blue eyes.
"Yes."

"I found a dog and a teddy bear and pretty
dolls in the closet. Wanna see?" Mandy interrupted.

Mitch straightened an overall strap that had
slipped down her shoulder. "Maybe later."

He stepped away so Laura could come down the
remaining curved steps. After she did, they moved down the hall at
the same time. Her breast brushed his elbow. The contact
electrified her. She saw the startled look in his eyes. When he
quickly averted his gaze, Laura walked ahead of him.

A woman was sitting on the edge of the living
room sofa, waiting. She stood when she saw Laura and smoothed her
hands down her navy skirt. Her hair, once black, was streaked with
gray and framed her face with soft, tight curls. Her eyes were the
same blue as Mitch's. Laura liked the way the older woman's smile
disappeared into full rosy cheeks.

Wondering what Mitch had told his mother
about her return, Laura extended her hand and introduced herself.
"I'm Laura Sanders and you must be Mrs. Riley. It's a pleasure to
meet you."

Nora's pudgy fingers enveloped hers. "You
too, dear. Please call me Nora. I'm glad I can help out. I admire
your father and wish him all the best. He's been good to
Mitch."

Mitch set Mandy on the floor. "And this is
Ray's beautiful granddaughter. Mandy, this is my mother."

Mandy looked at Laura then stood in front of
Nora. "Hi."

Nora sat on the sofa to be at Mandy's eye
level. "Hi there, honey. Mitch told me you drew pretty pictures
when you were coming here in the airplane. Do you think you can
draw me a few?"

Mandy's head bobbed up and down, swinging her
hair across her cheeks. "Sure. But I'm hungry. Can we eat
first?"

Laura glanced at the grandfather clock. "We
were so busy exploring, we forgot about the cookies. What time can
we see Dad?"

"Whenever we get there. I'll go get us fast
food sandwiches."

"Nonsense," Nora protested. "I'm sure there's
something in the refrigerator. Let me go look."

Laura objected immediately. "Mrs. Riley, I
can't let you do that! You're here to keep Mandy company."

"Child, I love it most when I'm cooking or
taking care of others. Now, if you want to help, that's fine. But
I'm not letting you put all that fat and those preservatives into
your bodies when I'm around."

Laura didn't need more of Mitch's
disapproval. She looked at him for his opinion.

He lifted his shoulders. "When Mom gets an
idea in her head, there's no stopping her. C'mon, Mandy. Let's go
find Puffball and show her her new litter box."

As Mandy scampered beside Mitch, his mother
reminded Laura, "You can call me Nora, dear."

Laura liked Mitch's mother. She'd feel good
about Mandy staying with her. She wondered if Mitch had decided
they'd have supper now so she could spend more time with Nora and
be comfortable leaving her daughter. He definitely had a caring
side. She'd like to see more of it. The thought stuck. Why did she
want to see more of it? Because that would make life easier. She
reminded herself again, men like Mitch didn't interest her. She
preferred men who were outgoing, friendly, accepting. Mitch was
none of those, at least not with her.

But there was something elemental about him,
powerful...

Cut it out!

***

Laura was silent on the ride to the hospital.
Mitch glanced at her a few times but didn't force conversation. She
was aware of each look, each movement, the heat from his body, the
line of his jaw. She wanted him to smile at her, not because he
forgot his disapproval for a moment, but because he meant it.

What did it matter what he thought of her
anyway? It didn't. Concentrating on Mitch was simply easier than
dealing with her feelings about her father. A cacophony of emotions
assaulted her every time she thought about him lying in a hospital
bed. She felt sadness, guilt, disappointment, remnants of anger,
worry, and hope. Hope for what? That they could again establish a
relationship? How? If so, what kind? Stranger to stranger? Friend
to friend? Father to daughter? Then again, how much could happen in
two weeks?

As they took the elevator to the coronary
care unit, other visitors pressed Laura and Mitch toward the back
of the cubicle. Laura felt awkward as Mitch's arm pressed against
her shoulder and his hip nudged hers. When the elevator came to an
abrupt halt, she swayed against him. His arm went around her to
steady her.

When his eyes met hers, his arm dropped. But
the heat remained where his arm had supported her back. They left
the elevator and followed the winding corridor.

Mitch stopped in front of the doorway to the
waiting room. "You can stay here while I tell him you've come."

When he would have turned away, she grabbed
his elbow. "If he doesn't want to see me, I can go back to
Independence tomorrow."

"Is that what you want?" Mitch's voice was as
hard as his eyes.

"I want what's best for him."

He canvassed her face thoroughly, as if
attempting to see into her soul. He must have decided she was
telling the truth because he nodded. She released his arm and
watched him walk away.

Laura paced the empty room, picking up a
magazine, tossing it on the chair where she found it. She felt six
years old, as if she'd again taken one of her dad's golf clubs and
chopped up the manicured lawn, attempting to hit the ball. He'd
been furious and sent her to work with the gardener for a morning
so she'd realize how much work she'd made for him.

When her mother was alive, her father had
been stern but fair. Sometimes almost tender. Laura fingered the
gold chain around her neck and tugged out the miniature gold rose.
She'd always loved the rose garden. She used to go there and sit on
the bench when she wanted to think, or wait for deer, or reread one
of the classics in her father's library.

He'd given her the necklace on her eleventh
birthday. She'd worn it almost every day since then, not only to
remind her of the garden but to remind her her father had been
thoughtful enough to know how much it meant to her. Where had all
the tender feelings gone? Had he been so devastated by her mother's
death that nothing had mattered but his work? She'd been a duty and
a responsibility he had to keep in line. At least that's the way it
had seemed to her.

When Doug died, she hadn't felt like going on
either, in spite of the problems that had surfaced after Mandy was
born. He'd been her first lover, her first serious relationship,
the only person since her mother who'd accepted her as she was.
Having Mandy had grounded her in reality and given her a sense of
responsibility she'd never experienced or expected.

Doug had loved Mandy, there were no doubts
about that. He loved to hold her and cuddle her and play with her
as a child plays with a child. But he treated her like a doll and
when he stopped playing, he didn't want the responsibility of
twenty- four hour care. When Laura remembered their last
argument...

She sighed. Mandy had given her the impetus
to create a good future for both of them. There was no way Laura
could ever disown her daughter, no matter what she did.

Laura had always felt as if she'd failed her
father after her mother died. What could she have done to make him
less sad? What could she have done to establish a good relationship
between them? Why couldn't he take her in his arms and share his
grief with her? Wasn't she good enough? Wasn't she pretty enough?
Didn't he love her anymore?

She'd tried to be good, quiet, studious,
perfect, following all the rules. But when that hadn't worked,
she'd tried the opposite. That hadn't worked either.

Now... What would her father say, what would
he do, what did he feel?

When Mitch reappeared, his tall,
broad-shouldered frame filled the doorway. She was afraid she
wouldn't have the opportunity to find out what her father felt or
thought. Mitch looked so troubled she wondered if she'd even need
to unpack her bags.

Before she could ask, Mitch said, "He'll see
you now."

So many questions popped into her head. Did
he really want to see her? Was he glad she was here? Had the news
upset him? None of the questions came out because she was afraid of
the answers. She had to see for herself.

She followed Mitch to the room. He said, "Ray
wants me to wait out here. Call if he needs me."

Need. She was curious as to just how much her
dad did need Mitch. With her heart pounding, she stepped into her
father's room. His brown hair had receded and thinned. There were
many lines radiating from his eyes and mouth. He looked pale. The
IV and oxygen tube seemed out of place attached to a man she'd
always known as vigorous and energetic. He looked worse than she'd
imagined, and she was determined not to say or do anything to upset
him.

Crossing on wobbly legs to the bed, she stood
at his side. She wanted to kiss his cheek or stroke his hand, but
didn't know if either gesture would be welcome. So she said,
"Hello, Dad."

His eyes held hers. "Your hair's longer, but
you look the same," he said gruffly. He motioned to the chair next
to the bed. "Sit."

She lowered herself onto the blue vinyl, her
hands tight on her purse. A hug would mean so much... But her
father had never been the hugging kind. "How do you feel?"

He scowled, his brows pulling together. "Like
someone turned off my power. I've never been so damned tired in all
my life."

"Mitch said--"

"What do you to think of him?"

That was a loaded question. "I haven't spent
much time with him."

"I hope you will." He paused without
explaining then continued. "He said you manage a jewelry
store?"

"It's what I know best." She loved working
with jewelry and selling it to customers who appreciated it as much
as she did.

"Mitch isn't too enamored with the business
side. He'd rather design and work with the gold and gems."

That surprised her. She suspected the still
waters ran deep, but Mitch's giving his imagination the freedom to
design seemed out of character. She kept quiet, letting her father
direct their conversation.