5

 

 

“Val? Could I speak with you for a moment?”

At David’s summons, Val set aside the Hollywood gossip maga­zine she’d been flipping through in the waiting room. “Sure. Is anything wrong?”

“No. I wanted to discuss a few updates to your mother’s program while she works on one of the pieces of equipment.” He stepped aside to let her pass, gesturing toward his office. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

“That would hit the spot, thanks.”

“Cream or sugar?”

“Black.”

“A woman after my own heart—straight and strong. Sit tight. I’ll be back in a minute.”

They parted at the door to his office, but in less than sixty sec­onds he returned with two steaming disposable cups. After handing her one, he picked up a folder from the top of a file cabinet and dropped into the chair beside her. “I added two more exercises to your mother’s routine, and I wanted to run over them with you. How’s she been doing with the program at home?”

“She doesn’t like the exercises, and she’s very vocal about letting me know it. But I have a secret weapon that always deflects the complaints.”

“What?”

“You.” She smiled as he sent her a questioning look. “All I have to say is that you’ll be disappointed if she slacks off, and she buckles down. You must have the magic touch.”

He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Hardly. I have plenty of pa­tients who grumble at me.”

“None of them women, I bet.”

Much to Val’s surprise, a flush rose on his neck. How endearing was that? A man who was actually embarrassed by a compliment.

Instead of responding, David leaned forward to put his coffee cup on the edge of the desk. To hide the blush, perhaps?

Even more endearing.

As he changed position, a loose sheet of paper on top of the folder slipped to the floor. They both bent to retrieve it—and collided with a jarring bump.

“Ow!” Val jerked back and clapped a hand to her forehead.

“Sorry about that. Are you hurt?” David touched her arm.

“I’ll live.” She rubbed her temple. “I have a hard head.”

“Let me see.”

“It’s fine.”

“Let me verify that.” Without waiting for permission, he leaned closer—and as he touched her hand, the warmth of his fin­gers against her cool skin sent a bolt of heat ricocheting through her.

What in the world?

Val stared at him. At this proximity, she could see tiny flecks of gold in his vivid green irises and faint lines at the corners that told her he smiled often. As for those supple lips that looked eminently kissable…

Don’t go there!

With a supreme effort, she lowered her gaze.

Big mistake.

His taut T-shirt was stretched across his muscular chest, and those impressive biceps she’d noticed at their first meeting were mere inches away.

Whew.

Had someone turned on the heat in here?

He tugged at her hand, his touch gentle as she fought the urge to fan herself. “Come on, Val. Let me see. That may require some ice.”

She swallowed…lifted her chin…and his hand stilled. A mere fraction of a second passed, but it was long enough for her to suspect he was experiencing a reaction to their nearness that was very similar to hers.

He abruptly dropped his hand and cleared his throat.

Suspicion confirmed.

In the charged silence that followed, Val searched for something…anything…to say.

Drew a blank.

What was wrong with her? Vocal Val, as her high school yearbook had pegged her, was never at a loss for words—except the moniker wasn’t fitting too well at the moment.

Fidgeting in her seat, she tucked her hair behind her ear, leaving her forehead exposed.

“Wow!” David inspected her injury. “You do have a bump! Let me get some ice.”

“I’m fine.”

“It won’t take but a minute.” He was already half out of his chair.

She opened her mouth to protest. Closed it. A brief time-out would give her a chance to regain control of her emotions.

As he disappeared through the door, she collapsed back in her seat.

Talk about being blindsided.

Sure, David was attractive—but she’d been around plenty of attractive men in her theater work and had long ago learned to steel herself against their charms.

Trouble was, her mother’s physical therapist had launched a sneak attack.

Except attack wasn’t quite accurate. There had been nothing deliberate in his actions. No intent to activate her long-dormant hormones—even if that had been the outcome.

So why had his closeness had such a dramatic effect on her?

Frowning, Val tapped a polished nail against the arm of her chair. Could it be that she’d simply been unprepared? After all, she hadn’t expected to have to protect her heart from anyone in Washington—especially her mother’s therapist. A man with a wife and child.

Yeah, that had to be it. He’d caught her off guard.

But why? With his boy-next-door appearance, David was 180 degrees away from the dark, brooding sort of man she’d always found appealing. Plus, he came across as grounded, certain of his place in the world, a man whose values were solid and who had a clear sense of direction.

In other words, he was her polar opposite.

So what was the appeal?

The answer eluded her.

All she knew was that she had to get her reaction under control. Fast.

Wrapping her fingers around the disposable cup, Val took a fortifying sip of the strong brew and gave herself a pep talk.

You’ll be fine. Now that you’re aware of the danger, you’ll be on guard in the future. All you have to do is remain calm, cool, and aloof-—and keep reminding yourself he’s married and off-limits. This is just some weird chemistry thing.

Right.

She took a deep breath. Let it out. Took another.

Better. She had it under control.

Yet as she set the cup back on the desk, her hand was trembling.

Just like her heart.

And there didn’t seem to be a thing she could do to stabilize either.

 

* * *

 

Juggling the ice pack in his hand, David paused outside the door to his office.

If only he could avoid going back inside.

How was he supposed to deal with all the electricity zinging between him and Val—especially since he had no idea what had prompted it?

It wasn’t her beauty or attention-grabbing figure or the honey-blonde hair that called out to be touched, that much he knew. He’d run into plenty of attractive women in the past few years who’d sent clear signals about their interest, yet none had knocked him off balance like this.

And he didn’t like this slightly out-of-control, unsettled feeling.

At all.

His fingers began to grow numb, and he switched the ice pack to his other hand. Even as a teen with raging hormones, he’d kept his emotions on a tight leash and stuck to the principles of his faith. Unlike many of his buddies, he’d never gotten carried away and indulged in activities he later regretted.

But he had the distinct feeling that with very little effort, Val could carry him away and leave him with regrets.

The question was, why?

He transferred the ice pack again and raked his fingers through his hair.

This wasn’t logical.

He hadn’t given her a thought since their first encounter. Helping Victoria acclimate to their new life in Washington had required his total focus.

But today those deep blue eyes had sucked him in again, as they had at their first meeting. And like that first day, he sensed that beneath the confident facade she presented to the world, Val was vulnerable. Searching. Scared. Unsure of her future. Alone.

As he was.

Could loneliness have prompted a buzz of attraction?

That was possible—on his end. While Victoria’s exuberant joy and boundless love might sooth his soul and gave meaning to his days, it couldn’t take the place of love shared with a special woman. The kind he hoped to find again someday.

But not yet.

And not with Val.

She was only here for a few weeks, and he wasn’t interested in a summer fling.

Bracing himself, he twisted the knob, reentered the office, and handed her the ice pack.

“Thanks.” She took it, careful not to let her fingers come into contact with his.

The knot in his stomach relaxed. They must be on the same page about how to deal with the unexpected high-voltage electricity between them.

“Providing ice is the least I can do.” He picked up his file and circled behind his desk, putting as much distance as possible between them.

She pressed the pack to her forehead while he explained the changes to her mother’s program. Thanked him again after he finished. Politely shook his hand before she left the office and disappeared down the hall.

But as he picked up the file for his next patient and stood, David realized she’d left a reminder of her presence behind.

A faint, appealing fragrance that was a tad exotic…a touch alluring…and hard to forget.

Just like the woman herself.

 

* * *

 

“Tell me how Mom liked the ratatouille.” Karen dropped a box of low-fat, low-sodium, whole wheat crackers into her shopping cart as Val read the label on the package in her hand.

“She said it was edible. Trust me, that’s high praise in light of some of the comments my culinary efforts have prompted.”

“It smelled delicious. Is the recipe complicated?”

“Piece of cake. I jotted it down for you, as well as the ones for the stir-frys I mentioned on our first outing in case you want to try them too. I could have texted them, but the format can get messed up.” Val withdrew several index cards from her purse and handed them over.

As Karen perused them, she pushed her cart past a cookie dis­play. Val hadn’t been exaggerating. The recipes were neither difficult nor time-consuming. “These sound very healthy.”

“And they’re tasty too. A winning combination.”

“I wonder if Kristen would like them. She’s developed some strange eating habits lately. For a while, she wouldn’t eat meat. Next, she was off carbs. Desserts were on the restricted list for several weeks too. And it’s not like she can afford to lose weight. She’s thin as a rail.”

“Sometimes people fixate on food because it’s one of the few aspects of their life they can regulate when other parts are out of control.”

“Like the divorce?” Karen tried to keep her voice nonchalant as she consulted one of the stir-fry recipes and put a bag of brown rice in her cart. After eighteen months, she ought to be able to talk about the mess she’d made of her life without getting emotional.

“Could be. I deal with teenagers every day. They try to pretend they’re cool, but insecurity is rampant. They can behave unacceptably for all kinds of reasons—to get attention, or to exert control over their lives if the home front is in an uproar, or it can be a simple cry for help. That’s why I enjoy teaching drama. If I can help them channel some of those energies through theater, act out some of those emotions on stage, they may not feel the urge to do things in real life they’ll later regret.”

“I’m impressed.”

Val offered a self-deprecating shrug. “I do have a deep thought or two on occasion.” She paused at the poultry section. “Do you want to get some chicken for that stir-fry?”

“Yeah. I think I will.” Karen rummaged around in the bin and selected a package of chicken breasts. “How did you learn so much about teenagers?”

“Experience. Been there, done that.”

“I did too, but I didn’t come away with all those insights.”

“You didn’t have to. You had your act together from day one.”

Karen barked out a mirthless laugh. “I wish. I was a mess.”

“Sorry. Not buying. You always had your head on straight, and you never struggled with most of the conflicts kids deal with at that age.”

“Are you kidding? I felt like conflict was my middle name. The difference was, I kept my feelings bottled up, toed the line, and did what was expected. More to try and win Mom’s approval than anything.”

“That was a lost cause.” Val selected some yogurt, and Karen added a few containers to her cart too.

“Yeah, I know. It still is.”

“Then why keep trying?” Val trundled her cart toward the checkout.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged at the question that had long plagued her. “I wish I could be more like you and let her criticism roll off, but it bothers me.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Val leaned close and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper as they got in line. “It bothers me too.”

Karen didn’t try to hide her skepticism. “Not that I ever saw.”

“It’s true—but I learned long ago not to let her know that. It only motivates her to criticize more. Instead, I pretend like nothing she says ruffles me.”

“Now I really am in awe of your acting talents.” Karen nudged her cart forward. “I had no idea Mom was able to get under your skin.”

“Mom doesn’t, either. Let’s keep it our secret. Agreed?”

“Sure.”

As she began unloading her cart, Karen took a quick inventory. Fresh vegetables, yogurt, lean meat—what a change from two weeks ago. She picked up a bag of Fritos. Started to lay it on the conveyor. Hesitated as she realized Val was watching her.

“I know Fritos aren’t all that healthy, but they’d be hard to give up.”

“You don’t have to give up everything you like. Almost anything is acceptable in moderation.” Val dug a bag of M&M’s from beneath a package of bean sprouts in her cart. “My weakness—but I limit myself to a dozen a day.”

“You’d better hide those or Mom will clean you out.”

“Don’t worry. They’re stashed in with the tofu. Trust me, she’ll never look there.”

Laughter bubbled up inside her. Had Val always had such a delightful sense of humor-—or had she honed it in her theater work? Hard to say—but Karen’s smile remained in place as they finished checking out and ambled to the coffee shop next door for their weekly latte.

“I forgot how hot and humid it can be in Washington this early in the summer.” Val fanned herself with a paper napkin as they chose a table near the blower from the air conditioner. “I may have to switch to frappuccino.”

“Me too—and we may also have to reverse our agenda and come here first. I don’t want to leave meat in the car for too long in this weather. Especially chicken.”

“Duly noted. And speaking of food—you’ll have to tell me how Kristen likes those recipes I gave you.”

Karen stirred her latte, watching the whipped cream dissolve. “You know, I’ve been thinking about what you said in the store. How Kristen’s odd eating habits could be a control issue. Her fixation on food did begin a few weeks after Michael and I separated.”

“Divorce is hard on kids.”

Taking a sip of her drink, she debated how much she could share without destroying her dignity. The whole notion of talk­ing about the breakup of her marriage left a bad taste in her mouth—but Val was sharp. She might have some helpful insights.

Just do it, Karen. Take a chance. Don’t overanalyze everything.

Fingers trembling, she fiddled with her napkin. “Part of the problem is that she’s never given up hope we’ll get back together.”

“I thought Michael was involved with some student.”

Mom must have told her that. She’d certainly never discussed Michael’s love life with her sister.

“He is. Stephanie. But on her last outing with them, Kristen sensed there was trouble in paradise.”

Val snorted. “I bet he’s having difficulty keeping up with her. Isn’t she half his age?”

“More or less.”

“He always did like younger women. You were almost a child when the two of you tied the knot.”

“Twenty-one isn’t a child.”

“Seems like it now.”

“True.” Karen wiped a spot of whipped cream off the table. “You know, that was one of the few instances I went against Mom’s wishes. She told me I was too young to get mar­ried and that I should finish school first. She predicted it would never last.”

“I bet she’s never let you forget that, either.”

“Bingo.”

“I take it Kristen misses her dad?”

“Yeah. But I think she misses the whole notion of ‘fam­ily’ more.”

Val sipped her drink. “Many kids from troubled homes are actually happier after their parents sepa­rate.”

“I don’t think Kristen suspected there was trouble between us until Michael left. We must have been too good at keeping up appearances.”

Val squinted at her. “Why do I have a feeling you were the one who made the sacrifices to keep your home life as normal as pos­sible?”

“Because you have excellent instincts?”

Val lifted her cup in mock salute. “All accolades graciously ac­cepted.”

“That wasn’t an empty compliment. You nailed it.” Karen examined the streaks of dark, residual liquid inside her cup. Why not spill it all? Who knew what Mom had already passed on—and what sort of spin she’d put on it? Wouldn’t it be better to give Val her side of the sordid mess?

Mustering her courage, she continued. “Our relationship had been unsettled for quite a while. I knew Michael was restless and unhappy, but I couldn’t understand why. I thought I was the model wife. I deferred to his opinions. I didn’t take of­fense at his condescending manner or bad moods. I overlooked his patronizing attitude about my faith.”

She sighed. “I was certain acquiescence was the secret to winning his approval—and his love. I made that mistake with Mom too. In the end, though, people lose respect for doormats. Kristen says I let them both walk all over me.”

“You can change that.”

“What’s that cliché about an old dog?”

“You aren’t old.”

“I am next to Stephanie.”

“No.” Val touched Karen’s hand as if to emphasize her point. “You’re mature, not old. Don’t ever forget that. Besides, it’s not as if you want Michael back.”

Karen dropped her gaze and busied herself wiping up the messy drips from her caramel latte. This was getting sticky—both the drink and the conversation.

If she didn’t respond, perhaps Val would drop the subject.

Her sister leaned forward. “You don’t, do you?”

So much for that hope.

She wadded the napkin into a tight ball. “Not for myself—but Kristen misses him so much, and I want her to be happy. If he’s breaking up with Stephanie, maybe—”

Val squeezed Karen’s hand. Hard. “You’re doing it again.”

“What?”

“Ignoring your own feelings to please someone else.”

“But I love Kristen, and she’s distraught about the split. I hate seeing her this unhappy.”

“And making yourself unhappy will fix everything? Don’t be a martyr, Karen. Not for this cause. Kristen is old enough to understand that sometimes it’s better if two people don’t stay together. Have you talked to her about the issues you and Michael had?”

“No. She was too young while all that was going on.”

“She’s not anymore.”

“She’ll think anything negative I say is sour grapes.”

“That may be true at first, but she’ll come to recognize the truth. You won’t be happy if you take Michael back, and Kristen will see through any pretense. You won’t be doing anyone any favors in the end.”

Her sister’s reasoning was sound—and on a rational level she accepted it. But if Kristen’s happiness was involved, her heart usually trumped logic.

“Karen?”

At Val’s prompt, she dropped the wadded-up napkin onto the table. “I suppose that’s true.”

Once more, Val squeezed her fingers. “Promise me you’ll call if you’re tempted to follow through on any rash decisions, and we’ll have coffee.”

“I’m not going to do anything rash.”

“Promise.”

At the passion in her sister’s voice, and the concern etched in her features, pressure built in Karen’s throat. Strange. After years of hardly speaking, years during which Val had been more stranger than sister, they were finally beginning to connect—thanks to a stroke.

The old adage was true—God often worked in mysterious ways.

“I promise.” Her pledge came out scratchy.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Val glanced at her watch. “Now we’d better rescue that chicken or it will cook in the car.” She took the last swallow of her latte and started to rise.

On impulse, Karen laid her hand on her sister’s arm. “For the record, Val—I’m glad you came home.”

“Of course you are. I saved you from the dragon lady.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know. I feel the same.” She hesi­tated—but only for a moment. “And as long as we’re in true-confession mode today, I want you to know I appreciate how you’ve dealt with all the Mom-related issues through the years. I know it wasn’t fair to dump all that on you, but I couldn’t stay here—for a bunch of reasons.”

Such as?

The unspoken question hung between them—but instead of answering it, her sister stood, gathered up their cups and napkins, and crossed to the trash can near the door.

As she followed more slowly, Karen considered Val’s comment. Had there been more to her reason for abdicating family respon­sibilities than mere selfishness, after all? Was it possible Val’s mo­tive for leaving was less career-related than she’d always assumed?

Val wasn’t going to answer those questions today—but the whole summer stretched ahead…with more trips to the coffee shop. More one-on-one conversations. More opportunities to exchange confidences.

And before her sister returned to her life in Chicago, maybe she’d open up enough to share the real reason she’d left Washington behind nearly two decades ago.