“Go through what? I was hoping we’d make our relationship permanent. Are you assuming I could leave you a widow a second time?”
“No, I’m not assuming that. I doubt many husbands choose to leave their wives widows.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
Her throat started to burn. This conversation could only end badly. Liam could decide that she simply wasn’t worth the trouble, and maybe she wasn’t. She had issues with men who took chances, and they’d only gotten worse in the last five years. “You wouldn’t understand. I need to hang up now, Liam. I have to change clothes and check the horses. Thanks for dinner. Wesley said it was really good.”
She didn’t need to check the horses. A few minutes later, when she had gotten Wesley to bed, she sat on her old sofa and picked up the nearest photo of Paul.
Clutching the picture to her chest, she said, “I loved you from the first day I laid eyes on you, Paul. You were everything to me. You were all I wanted. But you left. I begged you not to go. You told me to trust you, that you would come home. And I did that, as much as I hated your decision, I made myself believe in you. But your promises were as flimsy as the paper this picture is printed on. I could rip up this photo as easily as you ripped apart my heart.”
She held the picture so she could stare into the warm brown eyes of the man she’d put her trust in. A strange smile came to her lips. “Mom was right. I am too trusting. I trusted you and you let me down. I hated you for that, Paul. And I hated myself for hating you. Everyone who knew you said you were a hero. But to me, the hero would have been the man who stayed with his family and faced the tough times ahead. Simple, hardworking men can be heroes, too. That’s all I wanted from you.
“And tonight, Liam said the same words you did. ‘Trust me, Jude,’ only now I know better. I won’t be twice a fool.” She ran a finger down the face in the photo. “I could have loved him as much as I loved you, and that’s the really sad part. But I’m wiser now. I don’t want to love someone if it means there is so much to lose. I won’t lose half of myself again.”
She set the picture on the end table, leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She recalled her mother’s words again. “You’re too trusting, Jude. And you’re fearless. Those two are a very bad combination.”
“You may have been right about me once, Mom, but tonight you’re not even half right. I can’t trust anymore, and I’m suddenly afraid of many things. I’m afraid for Liam, and I’m afraid for myself if something happened to him.” Her next words came out on a sob. “I don’t think I could be fixed the next time. I’m afraid to love him. Loneliness and loss change a person, Mom. I’ve become a skeptic, filled with what Liam would call my irrational behavior Maybe that’s what you were always trying to warn me about. Now I’m listening.”
* * *
THE NEXT EVENING MARTIN, Jude and Wesley had dinner at the big house. Martin tried to get a conversation going, but it seemed every attempt was met with clipped responses or glum expressions. He didn’t know what was going on. Jude had recently gotten her hair cut, a physical step out of her doldrums. Martin believed she was completely over her anger at Liam. They’d been seeing more of each other, going on dates, all of which made Martin very happy. Yet tonight she seemed to have regressed into a state of depression. Her hair was bound in the single braid again, though a much shorter one. She wore her standard attire of jeans and a plaid blouse. She was Jude again, his troubled middle child.
“Mom, when is Liam coming over again?” Wesley asked.
Martin stopped chewing so he could hear her answer.
“He’s busy, Wes. He may not have time to come over for a while.”
“Then can I call him? I have a couple of things I need to tell him.”
“You’ll have to wait until you see him. Like I said, he’s busy and probably doesn’t have time to accept phone calls from children.”
“He’ll take a phone call from me,” Wes insisted. “He’s my friend.”
Jude rubbed her forehead, sighed. “Just finish your dinner, okay? You were up late last night and tonight you’re going to bed early.”
So that’s it, Martin thought. The date with Liam hadn’t gone well. Martin was surprised, considering Jude had come to the house tonight talking about ideas for the foundation and ways to save money. She credited Liam with coming up with the suggestions, and he’d assumed their relationship had taken a turn toward the personal. Maybe it had, for a while, but something had definitely gone wrong.
Again Martin wished Maggie were able to talk to their daughter. She had always been so much better at getting to the bottom of problems. They’d been a good team, he and Maggie. She discovered what was wrong, and he made it right. Now he was forced to try and make his daughter’s life right without knowing what was wrong. Impossible. He had to get to the bottom of whatever was troubling Jude.
He cleared his throat. “Uh, Jude, do you think you could spare me a few minutes after dinner? I’d like to talk to you.”
Her expression was wary, not unusual for Jude when faced with a father-daughter talk. “Wes, you watch the TV in Grandma’s room and visit with her until Grandpa and I are done.”
Wesley always appeared comfortable with his grandmother. He knew she was ill and couldn’t react to what he said or did, but he was too young to fully realize that she was never going to get better. So he’d sit beside her and tell her what was happening with a particular television show or read her a book. Sometimes when Wesley picked up Maggie’s hand, Martin envied his sweet innocence. Maggie was his grandma, someone he knew was supposed to love him without reservation, and despite her condition, he loved her back.
“Okay. Can I pick the show? I’ll pick something Grandma will like.”
“Sure.”
The phone rang, and Rosie came into the dining room. “Mr. Martin, the phone is for you. It’s Miss Aurora. Should I tell her you’ll call her back?”
Aurora had been on Martin’s mind much of the day. The incident with her son showing up unexpectedly had him puzzled. Aurora had definitely not seemed pleased. He’d waited for her call, but five days had passed since William showed up. He decided that he would call her this evening if she hadn’t reached him.
He stood. “No, Rosie, I’ll speak to Aurora in my den.” Nodding to Jude and Wesley, he said, “Excuse me.”
He sat behind his desk and picked up the phone. “Aurora, how are things over there?”
“Fine, Marty. I’m calling because I promised I would.”
“So everything is all right with your son?”
“Oh, sure. This isn’t the first time William has shown up unannounced. He’s kind of a wandering soul, and sometimes he wanders toward me.”
“That must make you happy.”
“You’d certainly think so, wouldn’t you?”
A strange response. Martin wanted to question her meaning but decided to keep the conversation on another, less invasive level. “How long is he staying?”
“Only another day or two. I gave him a week, and it will be over soon. He’s doing some odd jobs around the place. I can use his help.”
Martin lined up the pencils on his desk in a neat row while he thought about what to say. “Aurora, just curious, I guess, but why haven’t you ever talked about this son in much detail? I can only recall you mentioning him one time, and that was really a reference to his father.”
“There wasn’t much to say,” she answered. “William and I aren’t close. Certainly we’re nothing like you and your daughters. His father, my ex-husband, and I divorced years ago, and William truly had more in common with Phil than he did with me. Over the years, I didn’t see much of William. It’s just one of those things.”
“All families are different, I guess,” he said. “But it’s hard for me to accept that you have an estranged relationship with your son. You’re s
o good with my girls, with Wesley.”
“It’s easier with them,” she said.
“I don’t know about that. I’ve had my issues through the years. And William is your son, so what is the problem?”
“Let’s just leave it, okay? Some stories are long and complicated, and this is one of them.”
“I’d like to meet William. Can I come over while he’s here?”
“I’d rather you didn’t. I’m sorry if that sounds cold, Marty, but it’s better if you stay away. William and I just seem to lock horns over the silliest things, and you don’t need to be in the middle of the tension. I’ll call you when he’s gone. We’ll talk then.”
Martin didn’t like the false confidence he heard in Aurora’s voice. He’d come to know her well since she’d moved in next door. Right now she seemed uncertain, almost frightened. By her own son?
“You will call me if you need anything,” he said.
“Of course. And the same goes for you.”
They disconnected and he went back to the dining room. Wesley had already gone upstairs, so Martin prepared for his next difficult conversation.
* * *
“WHAT DID YOU want to talk to me about, Daddy?” Jude asked when they were seated in the living room. “What’d I do?”
Martin chuckled, but it seemed forced. “Nothing. Why do you always think I’m going to reprimand you for something?”
“I don’t know. History, tradition. It’s not like I wasn’t the most troublesome of your three daughters.”
“That’s not true, Jude,” he insisted. “Yes, you got into a number of scrapes, but that was only because of your big heart.”
She smiled. “That’s not what you said when you came down to the Fox Creek Police Station and talked to the officer who brought me in after I protested against animal abuse. And certainly not what you said to me.” She lowered her voice, trying to impersonate a father’s deep disappointment. “How could you, Jude? Picketing outside a laboratory, threatening to release all the animals.’”
“Turns out you were right,” Martin said. “There was animal abuse going on in that lab, and you were within your moral rights to picket.”
“Was I right when I started the campaign to keep women from buying cosmetic products that had been tested on animals? I put together a small army of activists outside the drugstore. As I recall that was another bad night for the Fosters and their middle child.”
“That’s all water under the bridge, sweetheart,” Martin said. “It’s the past. I’m worried about the present.”
“In what way, Daddy?”
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong? I can see that something’s bothering you. In the past, I would have had your mother bring this up, but, well...”
“No, nothing’s wrong.”
“Did you have a fight with Liam?”
“Not exactly.”
He smiled. “I’m not sure what that means, but I’ll assume that something happened when you went to Cleveland last night. I have to tell you, Jude, I like Liam. He’s a good man, a hard worker, a kind person.”
She nodded. “He’s all that. The problem we have isn’t with him specifically. It’s mostly with me. He doesn’t fit into what I’m looking for in a man, a relationship. And he’s not the sort of man I would want influencing Wesley.”
“I’m surprised to hear you say this,” Martin said. “I had feared you were never going to consider any man for a relationship, and then I guess my hopes were raised when you started going out with Liam.”
Her shoulders slouched, just enough so her father would know he’d hit a nerve. “Sorry to disappoint, Daddy.”
“I admire your ideals, Jude. They are responsible for making you the strong woman you are. From the day you were born, you were independent, less reliant on your mother and me. Alex needed our approval and praise all the time. You just went your own way and did your own thing.”
“Like quit college,” she said. And besides, Alex got all the attention. What other choice did I have but to stumble along making mistakes?
“Yes. I wasn’t happy about that, but you were the self-sufficient child. Alex was the overachiever. Carrie the baby. I wanted you to go to college, but you had other ideas. From the time you were in elementary school, you were motivated by one social cause after another. First it was bullying, then donation jars to collect for someone’s operation, then animal rights. You were determined to make the world a better place.” He leaned forward, placed his hand over hers on her lap. “And you still are. I’m proud of you, Jude, and it’s high time I told you that.” He cleared his throat. “Now that I look back, I feel that you were always struggling to be heard, and no one would listen.”
“Don’t blame yourself for my quirks,” she said. “You and Mom were great parents. I just didn’t fit any particular mold.”
“And you shouldn’t have. Your mother never did. I only bring that up because I always felt Alex was more like me—struggling to achieve at the expense of a personal life. You were like your mother. Strong, independent, confident.”
Jude sighed. “Maybe not so much anymore, Daddy.”
“We all have our moments, honey. You’ll come back stronger than ever.” He paused, picked up a picture of his three girls and showed it to Jude. “Look at this carefully, Jude.”
She did. “Okay.”
“Do you know what’s great about being the middle child?”
“Uh, no, not really.”
“Where are you in this picture?”
She didn’t know where he was going with the demonstration, but she played along. “The middle.”
“That’s right. And in nearly every picture we have of you three girls together, you’re in the middle, the heart of the picture.”
“Daddy, that’s true, but—”
“My point is that you are special, Jude, to me, to all of us. You are so much like your mother that sometimes my heart hurts just hearing your voice, seeing your smile. I love you, kiddo. I want you to be happy.”
Jude knew one thing for certain. She didn’t want her father to feel responsible for her unhappiness. She didn’t want him to assume any of the blame for the choices she made. “I am happy, Daddy. I’m fine.”
“I’m not much good at giving advice, Jude, but I’m going to give it a try tonight. I want you to set some goals, sweetheart. Personal ones, not goals about helping the community or raising a kid. I want you to set a goal to stop grieving. Can you do that? Can you accept that there’s a limit to grief? I’m not saying you should forget, but you might want to stop the heartache. You need to live, Jude, and to do that you have to let the bad feelings go.”
“I’ll try, Daddy.”
He gave her a smirk. “I know you’re just saying that, trying to keep the peace. But I’m going to take you at your word.”
She stood. “Is that it, Daddy?”
“Almost. One thing you said disturbs me. Why don’t you believe that Liam would be a good influence on Wes?”
“I don’t understand some of Liam’s choices. Let’s just leave it at that. And besides, Liam hasn’t indicated any interest in being part of Wesley’s life.” She sighed. “He enjoys the independence of not being responsible for a child.”
She started to leave, but Martin stopped her. “Jude...”
She turned around. “Yes?”
“I’m here, honey. I’m not much good at girl stuff, but I’m always willing to listen. Sometimes that’s all a person needs, someone to listen.”
She walked back to the sofa where he was sitting, leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I know you are. I love you.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
TWO DAYS LATER, on Wednesday, Jude had taken Wesley for pizza and now they were home at a very respectable seven o’clock with the night
ahead of them.
“Are you sure you remembered to put fresh water in the horses’ buckets, Wes?” she asked her son.
“Yes, Mom. I told you I did.”
She almost wished he’d forgotten. She needed to get out of the small apartment for a few minutes. She felt restless, lonely, like the last three weeks had been only a dream, one she hadn’t deserved, as if a second chance at happiness was for other people, not her. She would be okay in a couple of days, she thought. She’d get over Liam. Getting over him was certainly easier than watching him take off for his adventures every year.
“I’m going to check on Titan,” she said. “I’m not sure I gave him enough feed, and you know how cranky he can be.”
“Okay.”
Jude went to the door, and Mutt followed. They went down the stairs and into the barn. Jude turned on the light inside the door and checked the feed buckets hanging inside all the stalls. Before she got to Titan, she stopped at the vegetable bin nearby and took out a couple of carrots. She cautiously placed them palm up under Titan’s nose. “Here you go, Mr. Troublemaker. Munch on these, and if you take off a finger, we’ve got a problem.”
The Thoroughbred chomped through the treat and whinnied for more. When she didn’t get more carrots, he pawed the ground insistently.
“One of these days I’m going to ride you, you grumpy old man. Maybe this spring, when the snow melts.” She stroked his muzzle and drew her hand back when he attempted to nip at her. “That’s all right, Titan. I see a beautiful friendship for us one day.”
The irony of what she was feeling suddenly struck her. She’d been working for months to get Titan healthy, just as she’d been trying to get the animal to trust her. The horse was just like her in one very sad way. He’d put his trust in the wrong people. He’d given his all to a cause, a purpose, and his spirit had been broken.
She spoke softly. “You have a home here for as long as we can stand each other, Titan. I’m hoping we become friends. Whatever is wrong, we’ll work through it—this spring, when the snow melts.”
The cold air revived her, and she felt better when she went back up the stairs. Maybe she and Wes would play a game. Then after he went to bed, she’d watch a movie, call her sister. Her life would get back on track again. She would be fine.
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