14

 

 

“Hello, Val.”

At David’s greeting, Val swiveled around. She’d noticed him sitting up front with Victoria as she’d arrived for the service, but when had he spotted her?

She gave him a tentative smile. “Hi.” Then she bent down to the blonde-haired girl clutching his hand. “Hello, Victoria. I like your dress—and your hair is very pretty today.”

“Daddy brushed it for me. He didn’t make any ouches, either.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“We’re going to the zoo today. Do you want to come?”

The suggestion seemed to surprise David as much as it did her—but he latched onto it with lightning speed. “That’s a brilliant idea. How about it, Val?”

For an instant, she was tempted to accept his invitation. Then logic kicked in. Why start down a path that led nowhere?

Forcing up the corners of her lips, she stiffened her resolve. “This sounds like a father-daughter outing to me. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Silence stretched between them, and she braced. Was he going to press her to accept, as he had the day at the park?

“I was surprised to see you here today.” He rested a hand on Victoria’s shoulder. “I thought you said you weren’t a churchgoer.”

He’d let the invitation drop—as she’d hoped he would.

So why was there a pang of disappointment in the pit of her stomach?

“I’m not.” She forced herself to switch gears. “This is an aber­ration, trust me.”

“Your mother told me you came last week too.”

It figured. Her return to church was big news for Mom, and David was a captive audience during the therapy sessions. But she owed God one for helping her through her journey to the past last weekend.

And the truth of it was, being in church made her feel less alone.

Instead of giving him a direct response, however, she turned the tables. “I didn’t see you last Sunday.”

“Victoria had a cold. She must have picked up the same bug you had. Anyway, I promised her we’d go to the zoo as soon as she got better, and we’d love to have you join us. Don’t worry about infringing on father-daughter time. We have lots of that. We’re too new here to have many friends yet. I think we’re both ready for some company.”

So the subject wasn’t closed, after all.

And wouldn’t it be lovely to spend a carefree day with a hand­some man and a little girl who could steal your heart with one sunny smile?

But she had to resist the temptation. Dating could lead to romance. Romance could lead to love. Love could lead to mar­riage. Marriage could lead to children. None of which she deserved. Not after what she’d done.

Just say no, Val.

She tried, but the refusal dried up in her mouth.

As if sensing her indecision, David offered the one argument that was almost impossible to resist. “Come on, Val. It will be fun—and you’ll brighten a little girl’s day.”

Beside him, Victoria was the picture of hope­ful innocence—a state reserved for the very young. There was no pretense in her, no secrets, no hidden agendas or doubts or regrets. No wor­ries about tomorrow, no consequences to deal with. She was just a little girl without a mom, excited about spending a day at the zoo with her dad—and maybe with the lady who’d shared a brownie with her in the park.

Val’s shaky resolve disintegrated. How was she supposed to resist those big green eyes? Besides, attachments weren’t formed in one day. It would be nothing more than a pleasant afternoon they could all tuck away in their memories.

With a sigh, she gave up the fight. “You win.”

The smile David gave her warmed his eyes—and melted her heart.

“Is she coming, Daddy?”

“I think she is.”

“Oh, goody!” The girl jumped up and down and clapped her hands. “Can we get an ice-cream cone too?”

“I think that could be arranged.” David looked back at her. “Why don’t I swing by and pick you up around one?”

“That works.” She rummaged in her purse for a slip of paper. “I’ll write down Mom’s address for you.”

“Six-forty-seven West Madison.” She raised an eyebrow, and he grinned. “It’s on her records, and I have a memory for num­bers.”

“Do you need directions?”

“I have GPS—unless there’s a trick to finding you?”

“No. The route’s straightforward.”

“In that case, we’ll see you about one.” He took Victoria’s hand and led her toward the door.

Karen sauntered over, wearing a smug grin.

“It’s not what you think.” Despite her best effort, Val wasn’t able to stop the blush that negated her denial.

“Isn’t it?”

“No. Victoria asked me to go the zoo with them, and I didn’t have anything better to do this afternoon.”

“Based on what I overheard, her father endorsed the idea.”

“They’re new in town. They don’t know many people yet.”

“Are you saying this is an act of charity on your part?”

“Sort of.”

“Nice try.” Winking, Karen nudged her. “But I was watching you—and him. Call it whatever you like, but I know a date when I see it.”

“Karen! Val! I’m ready to leave.”

Their mother’s voice shattered the Sunday morning tranquility outside the church, and Karen chuckled. “Lucky you. Saved by the bell—or should I say bellow? Come on. We can chat about this later.”

Not if she could help it. Her feel­ings for David weren’t open to discussion.

And she was already beginning to think that accepting his in­vitation had been a huge mistake.

 

* * *

 

At the peal of the doorbell, Karen scowled.

Well, crud.

Yesterday she’d spent two hours of her already packed Saturday meeting with Reverend Richards about the Hope House benefit, and there was no wiggle room in her Sunday afternoon for an unexpected visitor. Not if she wanted to finish the laundry and get back to her mother’s before Margaret woke up from her nap.

She dumped the armload of clothes from the dryer on the kitchen table and marched down the hall. Whoever had come to call, she’d get rid of them fast. Listening to Mom complain if she wasn’t back at the house on schedule was not on her agenda for the day.

At the door, she smoothed her hand over her hair, peeked through the peephole—and frowned.

What on earth was Michael doing here?

If he was hoping to find Kristen at home, he was out of luck. Now that she was more mobile, her social life had picked up.

She pulled the door open and gave him the bad news at once. “Sorry, Michael. Kristen went to a sleepover last night, and they’re hav­ing a barbecue this afternoon. She won’t be home until this evening.”

To her surprise, he shrugged it off. “I knew it was a gamble. I was in the mood to go for a drive and thought if she was home, I’d take her to Mr. Frank’s.”

“I’ll let her know you came by.” Karen began to close the door.

He put a hand out to stop her. “I don’t suppose I could get a cup of coffee, could I?”

She squinted at him. Since when did they socialize during his visits?

“Coffee?”

He gave her a weak grin and slid his hands in the pockets of his knife-creased slacks. “Yeah. You know. That black liquid full of caffeine. We used to drink some together in the morning.”

Okay, this was bizarre. Michael never joked with her. And why would he bring up an intimate morning ritual they had shared only in the early days of their marriage?

As silence stretched between them, he withdrew one hand from his pocket and ran his fingers through his hair. Fingers that weren’t quite steady. And the faint hollow in his cheeks, along with his slight pallor, were new.

“Is everything okay?”

“As a matter of fact, no. I was hoping to tell you about it over a cup of coffee.”

Karen hesitated. She didn’t have a spare minute today—but he had made a long drive.

Don't be a patsy.

Right.

She opened her mouth—but he spoke first.

“Please.”

She snapped her jaw closed.

Had he actually said please?

She could count on her fingers the number of times he’d used that word while they’d been married.

Fine. She’d listen—within reason.

She pulled the door wide and made a point of looking at her watch. “I only have a few minutes.”

“I won’t stay long.” He entered and walked toward the kitchen.

Karen followed, sweeping aside the clothes on the table to carve out space for two cups. Surprising her again, Michael went to work brewing the coffee—a task he’d always left to her while they’d lived together as man and wife.

As she folded her arms and watched him, he gave her a sheepish glance. “I’ve learned how to do a number of kitchen chores in the past few months.”

In other words, your new lady love doesn’t wait on you like a slave, as I did.

Clamping her lips together, she kept that conclusion to herself. Instead, she retrieved the cream and two mugs and sat at the table. He joined her once the coffee began to brew.

As the seconds ticked by in silence, impatience began to thrum through her. How hard could it be to tell her that his relationship with Stephanie had soured? And that had to be the news he wanted to share. Though why he assumed she’d care was be­yond her.

In the interest of expediting the conversation, she gave him the opening he couldn’t seem to find. “How goes it with Stephanie?”

He played with his empty mug. “It could be better.”

If he expected her to offer sympathy, he was out of luck. Her sense of charity only went so far.

She waited him out.

At last he linked his fingers on the table. “As much as I hate to admit it, I think it was a mistake from the be­ginning. We were too different.” He massaged the bridge of his nose. “Long story short, we split up about three weeks ago. She met someone else. Someone younger.”

Thrown aside for someone younger. Ha. Perhaps there was jus­tice after all. No, that wasn’t a very charitable attitude—but it felt satisfying nonetheless.

“Anyway, the truth is I should never have left.” He tapped his index fingers together. “It could have been the whole notion of greener pastures. Or a midlife crisis. Who knows? Whatever the motivation, it was a mistake.”

Karen scrutinized him, suspicion niggling at the edges of her mind. Surely, after all that had happened, he couldn’t be implying he wanted to come back.

Could he?

“I have some chores to finish, Michael.” She managed a calm tone despite the red alert beeping in her mind. “Is there a point to this?”

He leaned forward, for once giving her his undivided attention. “Yeah, there is. We had a good thing going once. Maybe we could again.”

Unbelievable.

In his usual arrogant style, he wanted to waltz back into her life and pick up the dance without missing a beat.

But the music had changed.

“It wouldn’t work, Michael.”

“Look, I know I made mistakes—but you’re the one who always preached forgiveness and repentance and turning the other cheek. Isn’t this a perfect opportunity to put that into action? I truly am sorry, Karen—and I know we could work out our differences if we both committed to it. Why not give it another try?”

She pushed her mug aside and leaned forward. “I’m glad you’re sorry, but our relationship was only good for you. I cooked your meals. Did your laundry. Took your clothes to the cleaner. Made your coffee. It was never a partnership of equals. You ran the show, made all the decisions, and I let you. That was my mistake, and I paid for it after you walked out and I had to create a new life, to survive on my own. But guess what? I did it—and believe it or not, I like my life now. I’ve learned to stand on my own feet—and to stand up for myself. I don’t need you to make my life complete.”

His incredulous expression suggested he thought some alien had commandeered her body. “That doesn’t sound like the Karen I know.”

“I told you. I’ve changed.”

“Don’t you believe in that till-death-do-us-part vow anymore?”

“If it’s entered into with sincere intent—but that doesn’t mean I have to stay in an unhealthy relationship. Or put up with infidelity.”

His complexion reddened. “I said I was sorry about that.”

“And I said I was glad. But suppose I could forgive one fling. How could I be sure there wouldn’t be more? Or that there weren’t others in the past?” She threw in the last comment as an afterthought, but when his ruddy hue deepened to crimson, a wave of shock crashed over her. “There were others, weren’t there?”

“I’m human, okay?” Irritation sharpened his voice. “I’ve slipped a couple of times. It happens. That’s how men are.”

So Stephanie hadn’t been the first, after all. Michael had strayed more than once.

And Val had been right. Michael’s “that’s how men are” com­ment said it all. He’d entered into their marriage never planning to honor his promise of fidelity. Their vows had been a sham from the beginning.

As for his implication that his behavior was a normal male trait—she didn’t buy that. Not for one minute. Not all men were unfaithful. There were plenty who had honor and integrity. Who were honest and true. Who made mistakes but didn’t break promises. Or vows.

For some reason, an image of Scott flashed through her mind. She hardly knew him, yet she’d be willing to bet he could be counted on to keep his word. Perhaps because of how he’d handled the choir situation. He’d made a mistake, yes, but he’d also made amends—and made a change. She didn’t think he’d fall back to his old ways.

“You’ve met someone else, haven’t you?”

Michael’s comment jerked her back to the conversation. The man actually had the gall to sound aggrieved, as if he was the injured party.

“A counterpart to your Stephanie? And who knows who else? No, Michael, I haven’t—but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to take you back.”

“It could be different this time.”

“It wouldn’t work.”

“Would you be willing to try, for Kristen’s sake? She’d like us to get back together.”

Leave it to Michael to find her weak spot and try to exploit it.

But she knew one important fact he wasn’t privy to. Kristen was on to him. Their daughter had understood far more about the problems in their marriage than either had suspected. And based on the conversation they’d had recently at this very table—including Kristen’s comment that Michael was a better dad than a husband—Karen knew that as much as Kristen had hoped for a reconciliation, she preferred her mother to be happy.

Michael’s ploy wouldn’t work. Not anymore.

“No. It’s over.”

For a few seconds, he appraised her. Then he placed his hands on the table and pushed himself to his feet. “I guess there isn’t much else to say.”

“No.”

“Would you tell Kristen I was here?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll let myself out.” He walked toward the hall.

Karen remained seated. She heard the front door open. Click shut. A few minutes later, a car engine kicked in. As it faded into the distance, she slowly unwrapped her hands from around the unused mug. They’d never poured their coffee. Her cup was still empty.

But her life wasn’t. Not anymore. She was finally taking control of her destiny. Trusting her own judgment. Standing up for what she believed. Cracking open the door to the possibility of love.

And it felt great.