“Let me talk for three minutes,” he said when he finally convinced her to sit back down. “Let me say my whole piece before you make up your mind about what you think I said, all right? That’s all I ask.”
The way she crossed her arms over her bosom, something that wasn’t all that easy for a woman as buxom as Mary Dell, didn’t quite convince him that she was approaching this with an open mind, but Donny forged ahead just the same, knowing this would be the only chance he had to explain himself and get her to agree to the proposal he had thought long and hard about.
“What I was trying to say before, obviously not real well, was that after Howard was born, I was drowning. For the first time in my life, I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. You were one hundred percent right in what you said about me—I had a set idea of what our son was supposed to be. It wasn’t that there wasn’t room in my mind to let Howard be his own person. He could have been an artist or an athlete, a bookworm or a bodybuilder, but that our child might be born with Down syndrome, or any kind of physical or developmental problem—it just never crossed my mind. I was sure that our baby, whatever his personality, would be perfect.”
“But he was perfect!” Mary Dell protested. “And he still is. Howard is the most perfect Howard on the planet, exactly who he was meant to be.”
“You’re right,” Donny said, ignoring the fact that she hadn’t lasted even a minute before interrupting him. “I can see that now. Back then I couldn’t. The only thing I could see, or hear, or think, was that Howard had a problem, a problem that I couldn’t fix. So I felt useless and guilty. But you seemed to jump right in and deal with it,” he said, amazement still evident in his voice, even after all these years. “You pulled up your socks and sprinted right down the road, leaving me in the dust.
“No, let me finish,” he said, lifting his hand to ward off another interruption. “I’m not saying that with any kind of bitterness or blame. I didn’t feel it then and I don’t now. What I felt was in the way, like I was dragging you both down. You can credit that or not, but it’s God’s honest truth, Mary Dell. At the time, I truly felt like you’d be better able to give Howard what he needed if I was gone.
“That’s why I left, because I thought you two would be better off without me. I’m not saying this because I want you to feel sorry for me or to excuse what I did—I’m just saying how it was. I didn’t leave because of anything that was wrong with you, Mary Dell, but because of the things that were wrong with me.”
He stopped for a few seconds to give her time to let his words sink in; also because he needed to take a breather. Once upon a time, Donny had been known as a talker, but living by himself for so long, enduring decades of a self-imposed exile in the remotest part of Texas, where the most intimate relationship he had was with a bartender he saw once a week, had left him a little out of practice when it came to expressing himself.
But the one thing those years in West Texas had given him was time to think, to retrace the map of his life and see all those times he’d made a wrong turn or circled around the same route, again and again, getting nowhere, wasting time, energy, and opportunity. He was sixty-three years old. The docs at the hospital said he was in real good shape for his age, but he knew there were more days behind him than ahead, and he was tired of wasting time.
“I failed you both so badly,” he said. “And I am sorry for that. But there was never a day when I didn’t care about Howard or you. I kept tabs on you both for years. Of course, that was easy once the show started to run. I don’t have a TV, but I go to a bar in Alpine every Tuesday to watch.”
“You do?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ve learned enough about quilting in the last seven years that I’ve almost been thinking about taking it up myself.” He smiled at his own joke, hoping she might do the same and so lighten the mood a bit. When she didn’t, he went on with his story.
“But I found other ways to check in on you before that. Got myself a subscription to the Limestone County Gazette. That’s how I knew you were opening the quilt shop. Later, when computers and the Internet came along, I started going to the library so I could read the Methodist church newsletter. Sometimes they’d show pictures of the Christmas pageant, and there you’d be. When Howard got confirmed, they put in that picture of him, standing next to the minister.”
Donny shifted his weight forward and reached into the back pocket of his Levi’s. Opening his battered wallet, he pulled out a newsprint photo of Howard and the Reverend Crews, covered with clear plastic laminate.
Mary Dell’s hand rose to her throat. “You’ve carried that with you all these years?”
“I was real proud of him,” Donny said, bobbing his head as he slipped the picture back into his wallet. “Proud of you, too, Mary Dell. You raised him right. Howard’s a good man, better than I could ever hope to be, and you’re the reason.”
Mary Dell’s eyes were shiny. For a moment, Donny was afraid she might start to cry again, but when he started to speak once more, she collected herself and listened.
“The church newsletter was how I heard about the accident—”
“You sent flowers,” she recalled. “Three sprays of yellow roses.”
He nodded. “One for Dutch; one for Graydon; one for Lydia Dale.”
“But you didn’t come to the funeral,” Mary Dell said. “I really thought you might. Your own brother—”
“I know,” he said, dropping his gaze. “I wanted to. I nearly did. But you were already dealing with a world of heartache. I thought my showing up would just make things worse. That’s what I told myself anyway.”
“You might have been right,” Mary Dell conceded. “I don’t know if I could have taken one more shock that year.”
“Maybe. There’s no way to make up for the things I did before, but I’ll tell you something true; when Dr. Brewer came in and told me that my kidney was a match for Howard’s, I bawled like a calf. I did,” he said, countering the doubt he saw in her eyes. “I was so happy, because after all these years, I can finally do something for my son.”
Mary Dell nodded slowly. “You are. You’re giving him a chance to really live his life and reach for his dreams. I’m grateful to you for that, Donny.”
“I’m the grateful one,” he said. “I can’t make up for what’s passed, but I’m getting a chance to redeem a piece of the time and opportunities I wasted where Howard was concerned. And I’d like to do the same for you. If you’ll let me.”
As he’d been talking, Donny noticed that Mary Dell’s posture had relaxed and she’d leaned toward him, just a little, but now her shoulders tensed again and she shifted back in her chair, the suspicion his words had awakened in her mind evident in her body. Donny rushed ahead to explain himself.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” he said, “but your voice kind of carries, Mary Dell. It always did. There was no way not to hear all these conversations you’ve been having with Cady the last few days. I know that Rob Lee is going to be gone for a couple of months yet and that the hand you’ve got running things isn’t up to the job, especially not during the lambing season.
“I’d like to come down and help you out for a few weeks,” he said, opening his hands a little, as if wanting her to understand that he wasn’t hiding anything, “just until Rob Lee is ready to come home. I know you’re worried about what’s going to happen with the quilt shop once the show goes off the air for good. I can’t help you there, Mary Dell, but I can make sure that you get a good lambing season, and that’ll give you some breathing room so you can focus on your other problems. I know as much about sheep as any man in Texas,” he said. “You know it’s true. I started that herd. You won’t be able to find anybody one-half as good to fill in while Rob Lee’s gone, especially not on short notice.”
Her face was set like a flint when he began to talk, but as he neared the end of his speech, for a moment that was as quick as the flicker of a candle flame, he saw her resolve waver. But then, just as quickly, the suspicion re
turned to her eyes.
“Why are you here, Donny? You come back on the scene as quick as you ran from it, disappearing and reappearing like the rabbit in a magician’s hat, and you expect me to act like nothing ever happened.” She made an incredulous noise, somewhere between a cough and a laugh. “What is it you want? Do you think that a trip to the zoo and the amusement park and a couple of rides on a roller coaster makes you a father again? Makes us a family?”
“No,” he insisted, moving his head from side to side. “That’s not what I think. I won’t lie to you, Mary Dell. When I saw you in the doctor’s office, there was a part of me that thought I could come back. But it didn’t take me long to figure out that was just me wishing for something that can never be. We’re different people than we were. You especially. You’re not a wide-eyed child who falls head over heels because the moon is full and a cowboy thinks her dress is pretty. You’re a woman now. You’re smart, determined, and more beautiful than ever. You make your own decisions and you don’t take no for an answer. You amaze me, but you intimidate me a little too. I couldn’t make you happy now, Mary Dell. You’re beyond me. I know that.
“But that doesn’t mean you’re beyond love.” Donny looked down at the empty finger on her right hand. “Where’s your engagement ring?”
Mary Dell’s eyebrows arched in surprise.
“Doesn’t matter what hand you put it on,” he said. “Right or left, I knew what it was first minute I saw it. I might be dumb, Mary Dell, but I’m not stupid.
“But you will be if you run from love because you’re scared of getting hurt again. There’s no guarantees in this world, but I’ll tell you something true: Hub-Jay Hollander loves you. If not, he wouldn’t have come looking for me.
“Don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying I like him. He’s not the kind of man I’d want to take on a roundup, but he’s a good man. He’ll make you happy if you let him. And you’ll make him happy too. Hell, you already do.” He shrugged. “I’ve been watching this last week. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, like you’re a treasure. A precious treasure.”
Looking over Mary Dell’s shoulder into the distance, Donny saw Howard and Jenna come around the corner, still holding hands and grinning. He returned Howard’s wave before turning his eyes back to Mary Dell.
“Don’t be so dang stubborn, woman. Let me help you with the sheep. You don’t have to pay me, or feed me, or even talk to me. You can go right on hating me if you want to; I’ll understand. All I want is the chance to help . . .” He paused for a moment, searching for a word, smiling when he found it. “A lost love. I’ve got no ulterior motive,” he said, getting to his feet. “I’ll prove it.”
He reached into the front pocket of his shirt, pulled out a stack of folded papers, and handed them to Mary Dell.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Something I should have given you a long time ago. Your freedom. And another chance at happiness.”
CHAPTER 49
Mary Dell didn’t think she should just walk into Hub-Jay’s office unannounced, as she might have before the argument that had resulted in her returning his ring. When she got to the hotel, she walked up to the front desk to ask one of the clerks to let Hub-Jay know she was in the lobby, and was surprised when a door behind the desk opened and David came out, dressed in one of the blue blazers that all the hotel clerks wore.
“What are you doing behind the desk? Did you quit the restaurant?” she asked him.
“No. Just expanding my horizons. Mr. Hollander wants me to learn hotel management.”
“I see. Would this have anything to do with the new property in Fort Worth?”
“Well,” David said with a modest smile, “it would be premature to say. I’ve got a lot to learn yet.”
“I’m sure you’re catching on quick,” she said.
“Thank you. I hope so. Miss Mary Dell, are you sure you don’t want to go right up to the third floor? I’m sure Mr. Hollander will be happy to see you.”
“No, thank you. I’d rather wait down here. By the way, I didn’t have a chance to thank you for helping Hub-Jay find my husband. You may have helped save Howard’s life.”
“I’m glad everything worked out. I didn’t like to presume on anyone’s privacy, but in this case, I thought it was the right thing to do.”
“It was,” Mary Dell replied. “For all kinds of reasons.”
David picked up the phone to call Hub-Jay. Mary Dell went to stand next to the stairs and wait, thinking about the night when their friendship had turned to something more, how he had offered her his arm and escorted her up the staircase for the dinner he had planned in such detail.
She thought, too, about the flowers and the phone calls, the gentle but persistent way he had pursued her, making her feel desired and special, awakening desires and emotions she’d never imagined experiencing again.
When she was younger, she doubted she would have found Hub-Jay attractive. But she wasn’t young now. She understood things she hadn’t at twenty, thirty, or even forty—the value of steadiness and patience and humor, and that kindness trumped looks any day of the week. Fortunately, Hub-Jay had both. She understood, too, the value of a man who was not threatened by female intelligence or ambition, a man who was comfortable in his own skin and didn’t demand that you turned yours inside out for him.
But more than all that, she understood the thing she had always known, even in her youth: that real love is rare. If you’re fortunate enough to find it, you need to hang on tight, because if you let fear dissuade you from taking the chance, you might never get another.
David took the phone from his ear and said, “Mr. Hollander said to tell you he’s finishing up a conference call and will be down in just a few minutes.”
Mary Dell thanked him and walked across the lobby, her heart beating a little faster. She took a seat in a white upholstered chair to wait, hoping her second chance at happiness hadn’t already passed her by.
Three minutes of waiting always feels like ten of doing almost anything else. Mary Dell became more anxious as the seconds ticked by. Her cell phone was stowed in the outer pocket of her purse and set to silent. When she felt the vibration that signaled an incoming call, her nerves were so taut that she let out a startled little gasp.
Like mothers everywhere, Mary Dell checked her phone no matter where she was or what she was doing, in case Howard needed her. At that particular moment, apart from Howard, she would have ignored almost any caller, but when she saw HHN-TV on the screen, curiosity got the best of her.
When she picked up the call a female voice said, “Ms. Templeton?”
“Yes. This is Mary Dell.”
“Please hold for Mr. Frankel.”
“I’m sorry . . . ,” Mary Dell stammered. “Do you mean Bernard Frankel? The chairman of the network?”
Mary Dell was still on the phone, pacing back and forth across the lobby, when Hub-Jay arrived. He hung back a few feet, waiting for her to finish her conversation.
“Absolutely,” she said. “Anytime next week is fine with me. Yes, sir. All right. Thank you, Mr. Frankel.”
She pressed the “end” button on her phone and spun around to face Hub-Jay. Her eyes were dancing and her mouth hung open in an expression somewhere between utter shock and sheer delight.
“You will not believe who called me!”
“Bernard Frankel, head of HHN.”
Mary Dell’s brows shot up. “How did you know?”
“You called him Mr. Frankel. I can’t think of a lot of other Mr. Frankels you’d be this excited to hear from. What did he want?”
Mary Dell sank slowly into a chair, as if she needed something solid under her. Hub-Jay sat down in the seat across from hers.
“He wants to offer me a new contract, two seasons guaranteed with an option for two more after that.”
“Four more seasons of Quintessential Quilting?”
“No. Four seasons of a whole new show,” she said, looking off into the distance
, as though she was trying to put together the pieces of some mental puzzle. “The Quilter’s College. Somehow, he got hold of those two episodes we shot without Artie. He’s crazy about our idea to have an older, more experienced quilter mentor a novice, taking her from ground zero to expert over the course of several seasons. We’re going to work out the details, but he wants to give me a free hand in developing the content each season. He’s going to give me a say over the hiring of a new director and list me as executive producer in the credits.
“Oh, and get this!” she exclaimed, turning her gaze back to Hub-Jay’s face. “Jason Alvarez is fired! Mr. Frankel saw a couple of the other episodes too, couldn’t believe how terrible they were, and gave him the boot.
“I can’t believe it,” she breathed. “This is just . . . I can’t believe it. How did things go from rotten to fabulous in the course of one day?”
“Maybe it’s like you’re always saying—every time the sun comes up, you might be about to have the best day of your life.”
“Maybe,” she said, still sounding a little dazed. “Whatever it is, I’ll take it.”
“I’m happy for you, Mary Dell. And so glad that you came over to share the news with me,” he said. “I hope that means we’re still friends.”
Hub-Jay’s words and the look on his face, wistful and a little sorrowful in spite of his smile, snapped her back to the present moment and place, reminding her why she’d come looking for him.
“Oh, Hub-Jay.” She pressed her hand to her mouth for a moment before lowering it to clutch at her throat. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me or why I couldn’t figure it out on my own. I’ve been such an idiot. I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”
The light of hope that had begun to flicker in Hub-Jay’s eyes when Mary Dell began to speak was doused. He rose from his seat and stood ramrod straight, as if trying to steel himself for whatever came next.
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