In A Heartbeat (HQR Superromance)

by Janice Kay Johnson

  “Yes, they are.” Anna grinned, and Molly gave a small, shy smile in response.

  Anna’s phone buzzed as she rose with considerably less grace than Molly did. “Your dad is calling,” she said, hiding her apprehension. “I’d better find out what he wants.”

  Molly headed toward the line of poplars that edged the field. Seeing a reassuring wave from another mother whose daughter was playing with Jenna, Anna followed even as she answered the phone.

  “Nate?”

  “Yeah. I just remembered Josh has practice today.”

  “That’s where we are.” Hearing tension in his voice, she stopped where she could watch Molly on her rescue mission without being overheard. “Is something wrong?”

  “I just found out that Sonja walked out on treatment Saturday. Apparently, nobody felt an obligation to let me know.”

  “Oh, no.” Poor Molly.

  “I left work to check on her. She’s home, martini glass in hand. Until she threw it at me,” he added.

  “But...why didn’t she call? Didn’t she want to see Molly?”

  “I have no idea what she was thinking,” he said tersely. “I told her I’d pay for treatment when she’s ready to give it another try, and that in the meantime, she can see Molly, but only under supervision.”

  “That’s when she threw the glass at you?”

  “More or less.” He was quiet for a minute. “I have to tell Molly.”

  “Yes.”

  “How is she?”

  “Quiet.” Anna told him about the bug rescue. “She has such a good heart.”

  “I know she does. She’s just so restrained. I wish... I don’t know. I’d like to see her explode with emotion. Yell at me, or fall down laughing.”

  “I don’t think that’s her nature,” Anna said, watching now as Molly bent and carefully released the beetle. A moment later, she turned and started back toward Anna. “And you really don’t want to see her falling apart. I did, and it was heartbreaking.”

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “You’re right. She did sob on me when we talked about what happened. It...was upsetting.”

  “Seeing her mother last week hit her hard,” Anna said gently. “Until then, she was giggling and playing with my two.”

  “And what will the latest news do to her?” He sounded harsh.

  “She might be relieved.”

  “She should be,” he shot back. “Except...hell, knowing her mother can’t make the effort even for her sake?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He gusted a sigh. “Can we all have dinner together tonight? Molly is more ghost than little girl when we’re alone together these days.”

  She didn’t feel she could do anything but agree. “I had a kid dinner planned, anyway.” She smiled at Molly, who was close enough to hear and looked inquiring. “Hamburgers and scalloped potatoes and green beans.”

  “Yay!” Molly exclaimed.

  “I heard that,” Nate said in her ear.

  Anna laughed. “The way to a little girl’s heart is her tummy.” She rubbed Molly’s. Somehow, in the tussle, the phone fell to the grass, but, given the little girl giggles, Anna doubted Nate minded being cut off.

  * * *

  NATE FIRED UP the grill for the hamburgers and carried them out on a plate, Molly trailing him.

  “You won’t make mine pink, will you, Daddy? I don’t like them that way.”

  “I know you don’t. As if I could forget.” He smiled at her. “Were you bored today watching Josh’s practice?”

  “Uh-uh. I never watch, ’cuz that would be boring. Sometimes I play with the other kids, but today Anna and me tried to find a four-leaf clover, and we watched some ants and I saved a beetle from being squished when someone stepped on him.”

  “You sure it was a he?” Nate asked as he shifted hamburgers to the grill. They sizzled, and the immediate smell of cooking meat made his stomach growl.

  “I guess it could’ve been a she,” she said solemnly. “I don’t know how to tell.”

  “I don’t, either.”

  “I wish we studied bugs in school.” Her expression brightened. “Maybe we will, ’cuz Mrs. Tate says we get to have the tarantula in our class after Christmas. Mr. Ewing’s class has it right now.”

  Had she forgotten that the plan hadn’t been for her to stay in the Bellevue school even until Thanksgiving, far less Christmas? Did she not want to return to her previous classroom...or to live with her mother?

  He hid his disquiet. “Lucky you.”

  She stood quietly as he turned the burgers. He began to suspect she’d followed him out here for some reason besides reminding him that she liked her meat well-done.

  Finally, she said, “Do we hafta—I mean, are we going to see Mommy tonight?”

  “No. You won’t be seeing her this week at all.” He’d intended to wait until later in the evening to talk to her, but this was his best chance to tell her what was happening without making a production out of it. “I found out today that your mom left the alcohol treatment center Saturday. Our deal was that she complete the monthlong program and quit drinking before you went home with her. So you’ll be staying here until she can do that. I told her she could visit, but probably here, when either Anna or I am around. I don’t want you going overnight until I know your mom won’t get drunk and scare you again.”

  “Oh.”

  He set down the turner and crouched in front of her. “You may think I’m being mean...”

  Molly shook her head. “I don’t like it when Mommy gets that way.”

  “I know.” He cupped her cheek. “When you’ve been drinking as much alcohol as she has, it’s hard to quit. You feel really sick. She needs to get well for you, though, and I really believe she will eventually. In the meantime, I like having you here with me.”

  She gave another of those serious little nods. “Daddy, one of your hamburgers is on fire.”

  He swore and leaped up.

  * * *

  “MOLLY, DID YOU TELL Josh and Jenna about the beetle?” Anna asked, as she passed the bowl of green beans along.

  Molly shook her head. Had she spoken yet? Anna looked at Nate, who gave a barely perceptible nod. Yes, he’d told her about her mother? That was the only interpretation Anna could arrive at.

  “Here, honey.” Taking the bowl from her, he dished up green beans for himself and his daughter before passing them along. “Good scalloped potatoes.”

  “Thank you,” Anna said, “but it doesn’t take a gourmet chef to make them.”

  “You’re supposed to say, ‘Thank you for the compliment, Nate.’”

  She suppressed a smile. “Thank you for the compliment, Nate.”

  Would he tell her after dinner how Molly had reacted to the news? She’d insist he did, Anna decided. She couldn’t help if she didn’t know what was going on with her.

  “Coach says the team we’re playing Saturday is really good.” Returning to his favorite subject, Josh took another big bite of his cheeseburger and chewed with enthusiasm. The minute he swallowed, he added, “They haven’t lost a game yet.”

  “Then it’s about time they do,” Nate said. “You’re playing goalie again?”

  “Uh-huh. Coach says I’ll play goalie the whole game unless we get ahead.”

  “At your age, I wish he’d give all the boys a chance to try out every position.” She liked the coach, but worried that he placed more emphasis on winning than he did in letting the kids have fun, and explore their strengths and weaknesses.

  “You could be a darn good forward, too,” Nate commented. “You’re fast, and you have a strong kick.”

  Molly ate, but with her head down. Did she mind her father’s rapture about Josh’s athletic prowess?

  “In practice, Coach moves us around to different positions,” Josh said, “but
I think some of the guys are sort of scared of the ball. You know, like, having it come right at their face. Mostly, it’s me and Ian that don’t mind.”

  Anna decided not to correct his grammar. She had seen other boys playing goalie during practices, and while she’d noticed they were tentative, she’d thought it was only inexperience. Now she realized Josh was right.

  “Are you coming to the game?” Josh asked Nate. He sounded casual. Just curious, either way is okay.

  Anna knew better. She tensed.

  Nate flicked a glance at her before he said, “I’m planning to be there, although I’ll give you my, uh, usual caution. Molly has heard this a few hundred times.”

  Nibbling at her cheeseburger, Molly didn’t react.

  A couple lines appeared on Nate’s forehead, but he looked back at Josh. “I work long hours, and I can’t always be sure when I’ll have to go into the office or meet with someone. So I’ll try, but I can’t promise.”

  “Oh.”

  Nate smiled at her son. “I’ve really enjoyed watching your games. If I had more time, I might think about looking for an adult league.”

  “That’d be cool,” Josh agreed. “Soccer is fun.”

  Jenna said loudly, “I’m going to play when I’m old enough.”

  “And when is that?” Nate asked.

  “Oh, another year or two,” Anna said, purposely vague, “depending on the rules wherever we’re living.”

  Molly gave her an alarmed look, and Josh’s dismay at the reminder was obvious. Jenna might not even understand that the moving her mommy talked about would mean not going to Mrs. Schaub’s house or seeing her friends from there ever again. Nobody said a word, although Nate’s frown deepened.

  He might need her to stay longer, given the situation with Sonja. Would that be good or bad? She didn’t want the kids to get too used to his luxurious home or to having a seemingly ready-made father—but making an ill-judged move to an unknown town when she didn’t have a real job offer didn’t seem smart, either.

  If she knew they might stay until, say, Christmas break, she should start subbing locally to strengthen her résumé and fortify her confidence. If he asked her...well, then she’d make some calls.

  * * *

  A TIME-CONSUMING part of Nate’s job was to play nursemaid to the start-ups and companies in his portfolio. Venture capitalists didn’t hand over substantial funds, then sit back waiting for the business to boom until they could rake in the vast profits. Instead, they provided steady guidance to protect their investments.

  Nate did everything from helping adjust business plans to introducing suitable executives to entrepreneurs K & L had “seeded.” He held regular meetings with people at every company in his portfolio, analyzing personalities, progress, how smoothly operations were going, how the capital he’d help provide was being spent. He’d intensify his attention depending on what stage the company was at. He looked hard at product development and initial marketing, at expansion or changes in management.

  And he had to step in when sales, management or anything else went amiss.

  He’d been trying to reach Andy Mayernik for several days, and grown increasingly uneasy when his calls weren’t returned. Mayernik had been launching a software game company with an initial offering Nate had thought could be a big winner. He’d felt good about the investment until three months before launch when Mayernik abruptly fired the CEO and hired a new one without consulting Nate. His instinct was that the new guy didn’t understand the target audience. Instead of building on the original marketing campaign, which he didn’t think was exciting enough, the new CEO convinced Mayernik to throw it out and start afresh. Even if the new campaign had been fabulous—and it wasn’t—Nate worried it wouldn’t catch on so late, and the panicky phone call he was taking late Friday afternoon confirmed his instincts.

  “I screwed up,” Mayernik said gloomily. “Orders just aren’t happening. We can’t compete with the sales forces from the big guys.”

  Or this new player in the market had neglected to build a solid sales-and-distribution pipeline. This was why Nate put so much emphasis on the executive brought in to run any new enterprise. Mayernik had created a brilliant product, but had had no idea how to run the company needed to bring that product to market. He hadn’t had the money, either, which was why K & L had put together several million dollars in funding.

  Nate pointed out, “This isn’t a stodgy industry, Andy. Gamers are always looking for something with a fresh look or twist. You know that.”

  “Well, they haven’t noticed that’s what we’re offering.” He sounded next thing to suicidal. “What do we do?”

  “We need to sit down and take a hard look at marketing materials and the numbers. Who haven’t you reached? Why?” Nate said.

  “Tonight?”

  Now, or tomorrow? He couldn’t let his decision rest on whether he might disappoint a seven-year-old boy. “It’s five thirty now. I’m wiped out,” he said. “I can’t give you my best after spending the entire day in conference calls.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, I can do that.” If he couldn’t figure out how to turn things around, the loss would be sizable but not cataclysmic. It happened; not every startup flew, and good ideas didn’t always mature into appealing products packaged and priced right. His obligation was to do everything he could to make at least a modest success of every company he’d believed in enough to hand over K & L money, as well as that of other investors who trusted him.

  Ending the call, he sat brooding.

  Would Josh understand Nate’s obligation? Maybe more important, would Anna? Or would she label this a broken promise?

  CHAPTER TEN

  JOSH KICKED THE back of Anna’s seat. “I wish Dad was there.”

  “I know, honey.” Easing to a stop at a red light, she said, “You know how much he loved watching you play.”

  Since the nightmare, Josh hadn’t once mentioned Kyle. But how could he help thinking of his father on game days? Kyle had been one of the men pacing the sideline from the first whistle to the last, calling advice and encouragement. He’d even talked about signing up to coach, although it hadn’t happened. Maybe it would have this fall...although Josh was already well established with his team and coach.

  “I liked Nate coming to games,” her son said discontentedly.

  To lighten the mood, she made an exaggerated huffing sound. “What, I’m not good enough?”

  He was quiet for a minute. “Moms are different.”

  As she’d feared, he had been thinking of Nate as a father fill-in. And why not? Nate had been acting like one. She hadn’t done nearly as much as she should have to keep it from happening, either. She’d even been grateful, nursing the possibly mistaken belief that Nate’s attention would be good for Josh. What if she’d been wrong, and all it would mean was another loss in his life?

  And how was she supposed to know what was best? Parenting Jenna had been easier for her from the beginning. Josh might think moms were different, but from her perspective, boys were different, too.

  “You can tell Nate all about the game,” she said cheerfully.

  He hunched. “It’s not the same.”

  Even Jenna stayed quiet. The girls probably felt as if they were strapped in the back beside a wild animal.

  When they got home, he wanted to skateboard and became sulky when she made him change to jeans and wear pads and a helmet.

  “I was just gonna...”

  “If I ever see you setting foot on that thing without the helmet and pads, I’ll burn it,” she said sternly. “Do you hear me?”

  He gave her a defiant look. “It’s Nate’s, so you can’t burn it.”

  “Try me.”

  “Fine!” He snatched the keys from her hand and galloped up the stairs.

  Anna didn’t move for a moment,
and nor did either girl.

  “How come he’s mad?” Jenna asked.

  She smiled at both girls and said, “I have no idea,” although, of course, she did.

  Nate made it home just in time to eat with them. The lasagna came out of the oven at six, and Anna had had no intention of making the kids wait. She’d heard the garage door, but blinked at her first sight of him. Exhaustion carved deep lines in his face. His shirt was wrinkled, the sleeves rolled up, his dark hair standing up in tufts as if he’d been tugging at it. He grimaced at her in place of a smile, then greeted the kids in the family room with what was probably a pretense at good humor.

  “How’d the game go?” he asked, to her immense relief. She couldn’t hear Josh’s response, but Nate’s voice was clear. “That’s great. Once we sit down to eat, I want to hear all about it.”

  Then he was walking toward her. “God, that smells good,” he said fervently. “You’re a blessing, Anna. I think if I had to cook dinner right now, I’d kill myself.”

  “No, you’d order pizza.”

  His laugh reformed the lines in his face, making her think it was the first of the day.

  “You okay?”

  “Beat.” He pulled out a stool and sat. “Dealing with idiots takes something out of me.”

  She smiled. “That bad, huh?”

  “Even I can be fooled some of the time.”

  Anna let her eyebrows climb. “Even you?”

  “Confidence is a prerequisite for my job. The decisions I make are multimillion-dollar ones.” He kneaded the back of his neck. “Damn. We worked out some plans today, but I have no clue whether the guy will follow through, or get another bright idea and gallop after it instead.”

  Really, she should feed him and get out of here. So what did she do but open her mouth. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  His surprise embarrassed her. Why would he want to talk to her? Like she knew anything about business or investments. Or even had the kind of relationship with him that would make it logical for him to use her as a sounding board.

  “No, that’s silly,” she said lightly, bending to take the garlic bread from the oven. “Considering my investments are, hmm, nonexistent.”