Sweet Surprise: Romance Collection
Page 36
Annie sat by the bed holding tightly to her father’s hand. The nurse was taking his temperature. Today was one of his better days. He had recognized her and called her by name when she walked in carrying a bouquet of daisies. She didn’t mind his calling her by her mother’s name, but it broke her heart to see him confused and disoriented.
“You’re nearly normal, Mr. Johnson. That’s good!” the nurse told him with a pleasant smile. She was staring at the tiny numbers on the thermometer. “The sun is shining, and your lovely daughter is here. This must be your day.”
The man smiled back and squeezed Annie’s hand. “This is my Annie,” he told the nurse proudly, remembering her name again.
“You’re mighty lucky to have a daughter who cares about you, Mr. Johnson.” The woman moved to the window and with one pull raised the miniblinds to the top. Warm sunshine filled the room. “She your only daughter?”
The frail man nodded.
Annie frowned and put a hand on his shoulder. “No, Dad, I’m not your only daughter. Remember? Valerie is your daughter, too.”
“Valerie?” he repeated. He gazed blankly at the flowers she’d placed in a vase on his bedside table.
“I didn’t know you had another daughter, Mr. Johnson.” The nurse smoothed his covers then patted his weathered hand. “Is she as pretty as this one?”
Mr. Johnson’s gaze never left the daisies.
“My sister, actually my half-sister, doesn’t live here. She lives in New Orleans, so Dad doesn’t see much of her,” Annie explained.
The nurse filled Mr. Johnson’s water glass then gave him his medication. “He’ll probably doze off. That pill usually makes him sleepy, but the doctor gave orders for us to give it to him at this time each day.”
“I understand, and besides I need to get back to work. I’ll stay until he falls asleep.”
The nurse stepped over to the door. “You two have a nice visit. I’ll be back later to check on him.”
Annie thanked her then turned her attention to her father. He seemed to be failing more each day. Only three months ago they’d carried on lively discussions about Apple Valley Farm, politics, the stock market, and a myriad of other things her father was interested in. Now the conversation was one-sided. She talked. He smiled. She wondered how much of what she was telling him was getting through. If only Valerie would contact him—before it was too late for him to recognize her. How many times had she called in the past six months to ask about him? Twice? Three times?
She took a comb from the drawer and stroked it through his thinning gray hair. “Oh, Dad, I need you,” she whispered softly. “Running Apple Valley Farm is almost too much for me. Come back to me, please.”
For a second she thought she saw a light flicker in his eyes at the mention of his beloved Apple Valley Farm. He was the fifth generation to run the farm, and now she was the sixth.
Not by choice, but by obligation.
I’m going to phone Valerie this afternoon, she promised herself. Maybe she’ll come for a visit.
It was nearly three o’clock before Annie was able to get away from her duties long enough to make the call. Valerie answered on the fourth ring.
“Val, it’s me. Annie. How are you?”
“What’s wrong? Is Dad okay?” the woman asked quickly without greeting her sister.
Annie twisted the phone cord around her finger. She and her older sister had never been close. Annie’s father and Valerie’s mother had divorced when Valerie was only four. The two girls hadn’t even met until Annie was ten, and they rarely saw one another after that. But they had corresponded occasionally through the years, through birthday and Christmas cards mostly. Her father had never talked much about his first marriage, and now it was almost too late to ask him about it. But Valerie was his daughter, and she deserved to know how he was, even if she didn’t feel the need to pick up the phone and call.
“He’s—fine. At least as fine as a seventy-three-year-old man with Alzheimer’s can be. He’s failing rapidly, Val. Most days he doesn’t even recognize me and calls me by Mom’s name. If you want to see him—”
Valerie interrupted. “Funny you should call. I’ve made plans to come, Annie. I’ll be there tomorrow. I already have plane tickets. I need to talk to you about something.”
“Oh? What?” What could she want to talk to me about? Annie brightened. Perhaps she wants to help out with his care.
“I’ll tell you when I see you. Can you pick me up in Boise at two? If not, I can rent a car. I think I can find the place okay.”
Annie frowned. “Sure. I’ll be there.”
“Fine. See you then.”
The dial tone sounded. Annie stared into the phone. Valerie had hung up.
“What’s up with you, Son?”
Brad grinned at the diminutive woman. She was sipping tea from a delicate rose-trimmed teacup. “What makes you think there’s anything up with me?”
“A mother can tell those things. There’s something going on in your life. Is it a”—she paused and eyed him suspiciously—“woman?”
He felt a flush rise to his face. “Is it that obvious?”
Mabel Reed’s eyes sparkled as she reached out her hand and cupped her son’s chin. “It is when you’ve had so few women in your life. Who is she? And when can I meet her?”
His expression sobered. “She’s not in my life, Mom. I’m merely her friend. Nothing more on her part. There’s no way she’d be attracted to me. Not with—”
Her finger pressed his lips to silence. “Don’t say that, Brad. Many handicapped men have full and satisfying married lives. Some women out there are—”
“I don’t want any of those women, Mom. I want Annie. But an active, vibrant woman like her could never love me. She needs a whole man.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “One who can walk by her side, not roll along in a wheelchair.”
Mrs. Reed pulled her chair closer to her son. “You’ve got to get over this, Brad. You’re a handsome, brilliant man with a lot to offer. The woman who gets you is going to get a real prize.”
“Booby prize, maybe.”
“Tell me about her. Is she pretty?” his mother prodded, ignoring his remark. “Does she love the Lord?”
“She’s beautiful, Mom. And smart. And witty.”
“And what about her relationship with God?”
He glanced down at the table. “I think she’s put God in the closet. Her life seems to be too busy for Him right now, what with her responsibilities and all. You’ve probably heard of her business,” he added proudly.
“Oh? What business is that?”
“Apple Valley Farm.”
His mother arched her brows. “That wonderful restaurant where they serve some type of caramel apple pie? I’ve never been there, but several of my friends have, and they rave about it. This girlfriend of yours works there?”
Brad smiled at the mention of Annie’s famous pie. “Not only does she work there, but she also owns it. And, as much as I’d like to claim Annie, she is not my girlfriend.”
“Have you ever asked this Annie out?”
“No, but we had dinner together at her restaurant. I’m just one of her many admiring customers.” Brad leaned over to pick up the teapot and filled both their cups with steaming hot water. “You should see Annie, Mom. Everyone calls her Apple Annie, and she greets each of her customers at the door wearing some sort of fancy long dress with apples all over it and a long white apron. And she has apple things all over the restaurant. Apple tablecloths, apple salt-and-pepper shakers, apple pictures, apple figurines. Even her napkins have apples on them. It’s a great place. I’ll take you there sometime.”
She touched his face affectionately. “Oh, Brad, this is really serious, isn’t it? I’ve never seen you like this. You’re really in love with this Annie, aren’t you?”
Brad rubbed his forehead. “Yes, Mom. I’m hopelessly in love and can’t do a thing about it.”
She rose to her feet, bent over her son
and wrapped her arms about his shoulders, then kissed his cheek. “You can’t not do anything about it, Bradley. You have to tell her how you feel.”
He blinked hard then looked into her eyes. “And take a chance on losing our friendship? No, things would never be the same between us if I did that. I’ll have to be content with things the way they are.”
His mother sank back into her chair and sipped at her tea. “Brad, I can only guess at what life is like for you. To be confined to a wheelchair with no hope of ever getting out of it, and I’m sorry. So sorry. Why did you take a job in the orchard that summer, instead of working at the grocery store? Why did that loader malfunction at that particular time? And why did my son happen to be standing behind it when it did?” She pulled a handkerchief from the cuff of her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes. “You were so young. Only fifteen, with a promising life ahead of you. Why would God let such a thing happen?”
Brad stared at the floor. How many times he’d asked himself those same questions. Why? Why? Why?
“But, despite the pain and suffering and the trials you’ve gone through, you have such a great attitude. And you’ve grown up to be a responsible man with a successful business and a promising future. And, best of all, you haven’t turned your back on God.”
“God has been good to me, Mom. If it weren’t for Him and the comfort He’s brought me when I’ve been at my lowest, I don’t think I could have made it. That, and the support I received from you and Dad.”
Mrs. Reed set her cup on the table, a warm smile on her face. “You deserve the love of a good woman. Don’t let this chance at love get away from you, Dear. Ask Annie out on a date. Give her a chance.” She gave his arm a little nudge. “You and I both know you won’t be content simply being her friend. You’re already in too deep for that. If you love her as I think you do, go to her. Court her. Let her know how you feel.”
Brad evaluated her words. Everything she was saying was true. Although he’d never experienced the love between a man and a woman before, he was sure his part of the equation was true love. But dare he let Annie know of his feelings for her?
Maybe.
But not yet.
It was nearly five-thirty before Brad got home from his office. By six o’clock he’d showered, shaved, and, with great effort, changed into tan trousers and a pale blue polo shirt. He sat debating about whether he should eat his dinner at the nearby steak house or go to Apple Valley Farm as his heart told him to. He had gone there so often lately that he wondered if he might be wearing out his welcome. Maybe he’d skip a night and go to Apple Valley next week. But, he reasoned, if he did settle for steak instead of going, he’d be missing a chance to be around Annie.
His mind was still not made up when his phone rang.
“Is this Bradley Reed?” he heard a woman ask between sobs. “I’m afraid I have bad news.”
Chapter 4
N o Brad again tonight?” one of the waitresses asked Annie as she stood in the doorway greeting her customers. “It’s past the time he usually comes.”
“I haven’t seen him,” Annie called back over her shoulder as she led a party of six to their table. Where was Brad? Had she offended him in some way? It wasn’t like him to stay away like this. Maybe he’d found a restaurant he liked better.
“Hey, is that one-legged man going to play the piano for tonight’s melodrama?” one of her regular customers asked when she walked past his table. “That guy sure knows how to play the piano. We really enjoyed him.”
Annie shook her head, irritated that he would use those terms to describe Brad. “I’m afraid not. That was a one-time thing. He was kind enough to fill in for our regular pianist. But I’ll tell him what you said the next time I see him.” If I see him a next time, she reminded herself. Where is Brad?
Brad propelled his chair from the van and wheeled into his mother’s apartment. “Where is she?” he called to the next-door neighbor who was waiting for him at the door.
The woman pointed her trembling hand toward the narrow hall. “In her room. She wouldn’t let me call an ambulance. She wanted you.”
Brad rolled quickly past her down the hall and into his mother’s bedroom. She was sitting on the edge of the bed cradling her arm close to her body, crying.
“I did something so stupid,” she said.
He hurried to her side. “What happened? Are you all right?”
“It–it was the electric teakettle,” she told him between sobs. “I—forgot to unplug it before I took it—to the table, and when the cord tightened—it pulled out of my hand and threw boiling water onto my arm.”
Brad could see the horror written on her face, and he knew she had to be in excruciating pain. He took hold of her hand and carefully pulled it toward him, revealing a scarlet red burn that was already forming watery blisters. “Oh, Mom. You should’ve let your neighbor call 911. We need to get you to a doctor.”
Three hours later, Brad was sitting by his mother’s hospital bed watching the even rise and fall of her chest as she lay blanketed in white, her bandaged arm on a pillow at her side. The burn was every bit as bad as he’d suspected. The doctor had even indicated some skin grafting might be necessary in the future. But at least she was alive. He shuddered to think what might have happened if the scalding water had splashed onto her face or into her eyes or—it was too frightening to think about.
He stayed with her until he was sure she was asleep. The doctor had said he wanted to keep her in the hospital for several days because of her age, in case of complications with her burns. She was given something to relieve her pain and help her sleep. He had wanted to stay with her, but they’d advised him to leave, saying she would probably sleep through the night.
He checked his watch as he rolled through the hospital’s double doors, suddenly realizing he hadn’t eaten supper. As he turned into a fast-food drive-through, his mother’s words came back to him—the words she’d spoken that very day: “Don’t let this chance at love get away from you, dear. Ask Annie out on a date. Give her a chance. You and I both know you won’t be content simply being her friend. You’re already in too deep for that. If you love her as I think you do, go to her. Court her. Let her know how you feel.”
Valerie’s plane arrived at two o’clock the next afternoon, and Annie was there to meet her as promised. After casual greetings and obligatory hugs, they picked up her luggage, climbed into Annie’s van, and headed for Apple Valley Farm.
“I’m glad you’ve come. But don’t be upset if he doesn’t recognize you,” Annie warned as they drove along. “Some days he remembers; some days he doesn’t.” She pulled past a slow moving truck then fell back in line with the other traffic.
“Do you think he’ll ever—?” Valerie stopped and fiddled with the clasp on her purse, as if to avoid looking at Annie.
“Get well?”
“Yes.”
“No. I wish I could say there was hope for him. But, according to his doctor, he’ll get progressively worse and eventually—” She gulped hard, unable to put his foreordained destiny in words.
“That’s what my doctor said, too, when I described Dad’s condition to him.”
“It’s so sad.” Annie’s voice broke with emotion. Only recently had she started to accept what the doctor had confirmed about her father’s condition. “There’s no hope.”
Valerie stared out the window solemnly. “It’s a good thing he was smart enough to sign the property over to the two of us before he got like this.”
Annie smiled. She remembered the day her father had called her into his office and shown her the papers he’d had the attorney draw up, turning over everything to his two daughters. “That’s our dad.”
“It was all legal, wasn’t it? Without any loopholes I don’t know about?”
Annie glanced at her sister then back to the road. “Legal? Of course. What do you mean by loopholes? I don’t understand.”
“I mean, he didn’t put any stipulations on it that I’m not aware of,
did he?”
“Stipulations?” Annie repeated, wondering what her sister could be implying. “I guess I don’t understand your question.”
Valerie tilted her head. “I mean, is there any reason why we couldn’t sell the farm?”
Annie stepped on the brake. The vehicle slowed and came to a sudden stop on the shoulder of the road. “Sell Apple Valley Farm?” she asked incredulously as she spun around toward the woman. “What kind of question is that?”
“I hadn’t intended to bring it up before we got to the house, but I need the money, Annie. And it seems to me we have only two choices. Sell the farm, restaurant, and theater and split the proceeds, or—” The two sisters locked their gazes and their wills.
“Or?” Annie asked, her face burning. The very idea that Apple Valley Farm would leave the Johnson family infuriated her.
“Or we can have it appraised, and you can buy out my half and keep Apple Valley Farm for yourself.”
Annie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Sell Apple Valley Farm? “But—” she stammered, “it’s our heritage. We’re the sixth generation to run the farm. Our grandfathers—”
Valerie held up her hand between them. “Your heritage, maybe. Not mine. I’ve barely seen my father since he and my mother divorced. That place means absolutely nothing to me, except for the money it represents.”
Annie wanted to slap her. How dare she talk like that? Their father had put his life’s blood into Apple Valley Farm. She could understand Valerie’s not wanting to pull up her stakes in New Orleans to move to Idaho, but sell the farm? Never! “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. If Dad ever heard you talk this way he’d—”
“He’d what?”
Her haughty tone made Annie’s stomach turn.