by Sherry Lewis
“It doesn’t bother me.” Christa glanced at her, then away again. “Not really.”
Sharon put a package of pasta into the cart. “What about you, Emilee? Does it upset you?”
“No. It’s just that we don’t like to see you lonely. We worry about what’s going to happen to you when we’re not around anymore.”
Sharon knew that was inevitable, but she didn’t like thinking about it. “Do you miss having your dad around?”
“Sort of.” Christa sent her a half smile. “But we talk to him and we see him every summer, so it’s not as if he’s completely out of our lives.”
Maybe not, Sharon thought sadly, but he was far enough removed to make them eager for someone to take his place.
She put a hand on Emilee’s shoulder. “Would you like to spend more time with your dad?”
Emilee shrugged lightly. “I wouldn’t mind, but it’s kind of hard to do that when he lives in St. Louis. Besides, once I start college everything will change, anyway.”
“And with Gabe around,” Christa added, “we can do all the stuff we used to do with Dad.”
“I don’t want you to get your hopes up too high,” Sharon warned. “Gabe and I have decided to start seeing each other, but there aren’t any guarantees that he’ll be around forever.” In spite of her elation this morning, she still held part of her heart in check.
“Oh, he will be,” Emilee said with a bright smile. “He really likes you, Mom.”
“And I like him, but—”
“Come on, Mom.” Christa scowled at her. “Don’t ruin everything, okay?”
“I don’t want to ruin anything,” Sharon assured them. But their expectations concerned her, and so did the need she saw in their faces. “Let’s just take this one day at a time, okay?”
Emilee shrugged lightly. Christa nodded. “Sure, Mom. Whatever you say.”
Sharon pushed the cart slowly and wished she could recapture the euphoria she’d been feeling just a few minutes ago. But it eluded her.
GABE SAT ON the couch, phone on his lap, staring at Sunday-morning cartoons on television. He hadn’t watched cartoons since Tracy was small, and then only rarely. He wished now that he’d spent more time with her when he had the chance.
Outside his apartment, a soft breeze stirred the tops of the trees and warm sunlight bathed the still-brown grass on the communal lawn. He picked up the receiver and dialed the first five digits of Tracy’s number, but his courage failed him and he hung up quickly.
He sat for a minute, then muted the television and tried again. And he prayed silently that Tracy would answer.
But luck just wasn’t in his cards.
Helene answered, and she didn’t sound happy to hear his voice. “Gabe. What do you want?”
He tried not to match her tone. “Is Tracy home?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I’d like to speak with her.”
“What about?”
He stood and paced toward the window. “I’d like to bring Tracy out for a visit over spring break. That is, if you don’t already have plans.”
“Why?”
“I’ve decided you’re right. I haven’t been much of a father to her lately.”
“Really? What brought this on?”
“I’ve been making a lot of changes in my life,” he admitted. “This is one I’ve been needing to make for a long time. Is she free over spring break?”
“We don’t have any plans, but I don’t know if she’ll want to fly out there. You’ve hurt her a lot, Gabe.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. “I haven’t meant to.”
“That’s the trouble. You do it without meaning to.”
“I’m trying to change, Helene.”
Helene didn’t speak for a long time. Finally, with a resigned sigh, she said, “I’ll let her know you’re on the phone.”
He waited, hoping the worst was behind him. It felt like forever before Tracy picked up the receiver.
When she did, her voice sounded wary. “Dad?”
“It’s me, kiddo.”
“Mom said you wanted to ask me something.”
“I do. What would you say to flying out here for a visit over spring break next month?”
She hesitated too long before she answered. “What would we do?”
“Whatever you like.”
“Would you be working all the time?”
He hadn’t realized his long hours bothered her. “No. I’ll tell Grandpa I need some time off work.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Where would I sleep?”
“In the extra bedroom in my apartment. Will you come?”
“I don’t know.”
His heart sank like a stone. He closed his eyes, unable to fight the tears that stung his eyes. “I’d really like to see you, Trace.”
“I have things to do here.”
He opened his eyes again. “Your mom said you didn’t have any plans.”
“We don’t, but I’m just starting to make friends here. I don’t want to be gone forever.”
“It wouldn’t be forever,” he argued gently. “Just a week.” Silence fell between them. He held his breath, willing her to agree.
“I don’t know,” she said again. “Can I think about it?”
“Sure, Trace. Take all the time you need.”
He expected her to make an excuse to get off the phone. Instead, she asked, “What about girlfriends? Are you going to be taking off with them all the time?”
Gabe couldn’t bring himself to tell her about Sharon. Everything was too new and uncertain, both with Tracy and with Sharon. Instead, he said, “No.”
“Could I visit Grandma?”
“Are you kidding? She’d have my hide if I didn’t let you spend time with her and Grandpa.”
That brought a soft laugh from Tracy. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
Relief weakened him. At least she hadn’t said no. “Great. When should I call you again?”
She thought for a moment. “I guess you could call next weekend.”
He’d rather have her answer sooner, but he’d give her what she asked for. “That sounds good to me. I’ll talk to you then.”
But when he disconnected a few minutes later, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just faced his first real test…and somehow failed.
GRIPPING HIS GYM BAG, Gabe pushed open the door to the health club he and Jesse had joined at the same time years ago, and searched the lobby. Even here, Valentine’s Day decorations hung from the ceiling, filled the windows and nearly covered the counter.
He glanced at his watch, hoping Jesse had gotten his message. A second later he noticed his friend on a bench, chatting with a pretty redhead.
Gabe crossed the lobby and took a seat beside Jesse. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me,” he said when Jesse stopped talking and looked at him.
“No problem. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”
Gabe smiled. “As a matter of fact, I was.”
Jesse laughed and drew the redhead into the conversation. “Celia, this is my buddy, Gabe. The one I was telling you about. Celia’s a friend of mine.”
The redhead sent Gabe a smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Once, he might have flirted with her. Now he merely smiled back cautiously. “Nice to meet you, too.”
Celia stood and wandered away. Jesse thumped him on the shoulder. “So, what’s up?”
“I’m just here to concede defeat.”
Jesse’s stare deepened for a moment, then he tilted back his head and brayed a laugh. “I knew it. I knew it. You couldn’t do it, could you?”
“Nope. You were absolutely right.”
“So? Who is she?”
Gabe grinned. “The woman I told you about last month.”
“The teacher?”
“Yep.”
Jesse grabbed his bag from the floor and stood. “I thought you said she was all wrong for you.”
“I thought she was,” Gabe admitted. “I was wrong.” He couldn’t remember ever admitting a mistake so easily before.
Jesse led the way toward the men’s dressing room. “Does that mean you’re seeing her?”
“Yep.”
Jesse laughed again. “This win was too easy, buddy. Way too easy.”
“For you,” Gabe said with a laugh. “I had to do some real soul-searching. But I’m a happier man because of it.”
“So, are you in love with her?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“You going to marry her?”
“We’ve just started seeing each other. Besides, she’s not interested in getting married again.”
“That’s what they all say,” Jesse warned, “but they don’t mean it.”
“This one does,” Gabe assured him, a little surprised by the flicker of disappointment the words brought. He chose a locker and dropped onto the bench in front of it. “She hasn’t even dated anyone for the past five years.”
Jesse scratched his beard thoughtfully. “So, what does Tracy think of all this?”
Gabe looked away and unzipped his gym bag. “I haven’t told her yet.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know how to. I talked to her this morning and asked her to come out for a visit. She’s thinking about it.” Gabe changed his shirt and pulled out a pair of sweats. “Things are so touchy between us, I didn’t want to rock the boat.”
Jesse tugged off his T-shirt and stuffed it into an open locker. “So, when are you going to tell her? When she gets here?”
“No. Later, maybe. She’s worried that I’ll spend all my time with women while she’s here. I think I’d better keep my relationship with Sharon a secret for a while.”
“And when she finds out the truth? How are you going to explain that?”
“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”
Jesse kicked off his shoes and pulled his cross-trainers from his bag. “Didn’t you tell me your lady friend has a couple of kids?”
“What does that have to do with Tracy?”
“You get along with them?”
“I get along with them just fine,” Gabe assured him.
“Yeah, as long as you’re working in their basement. What’s gonna happen when the job’s finished? How can you be a decent stepfather to them if you can’t even make time to have a relationship with your own daughter?”
“Nobody said anything about being a stepfather,” Gabe argued. “And I have a relationship with my daughter. Just not a close one.”
“And whose fault is that?”
He started to give the answer he always gave, then stopped himself. “Mine, I guess.”
“So what are you going to do about it?”
He jerked a towel from his gym bag and stood. “I don’t know.”
“Well, you’ve gotta do something. Do you have any idea how Tracy’ll feel if you get chummy with those kids when you can’t even talk to her?”
Gabe rubbed his face and let out a defeated sigh. “So instead of telling me everything I’m doing wrong, how about offering some suggestions?”
“Be honest with her. Stop trying to make her think you’re some knight in shining armor and let her see the real you, rust and all.”
“I don’t know—”
“Trust her a little bit, man. There’s no reason she shouldn’t love you in spite of yourself. God knows the rest of us do, though half the time I have no idea why.” His smile took away some of the sting.
Gabe pretended to scowl. “You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?”
“Nope.” Jesse closed his locker and pocketed the key. “You’ve got to figure it out on your own.”
Coming from Jesse, it sounded simple. But Gabe knew the next conversation he had with his daughter would be the hardest one he’d ever had.
CHAPTER TWELVE
GABE LISTENED TO the sound of music and laughter overhead. Footsteps thundered across the floor—lots of them. Other voices mixed with, and occasionally drowned out, Sharon’s, Emilee’s and Christa’s. The kids—and their mother—were obviously enjoying themselves upstairs. Sharon had told him Emilee and Christa were having a few friends in. She’d even invited him to join them, but the electrician had run into a glitch with the old wiring in the house on Wednesday, and that had thrown Gabe behind schedule again.
The job was just an excuse, he admitted silently. He couldn’t relax and let himself enjoy Sharon’s company as long as he was hiding the truth from Tracy. He tossed his hammer into his toolbox and tried not to think about the phone call he’d been putting off all day. He had to talk to Tracy—really talk this time—but he honestly didn’t know how or where to begin. And he didn’t know how she’d react to his clumsy attempts to mend the rift between them or his confession about his relationship with Sharon.
Frowning, he closed the lid on his ratchet set, picked up a couple of wrenches he’d left on the floor and slung his jacket over his shoulder. He’d say goodbye quickly and go home to make his phone call.
But when he stepped onto the landing, he changed his mind. He didn’t want to disturb Sharon. She’d been preoccupied all day, anyway. Probably busy planning this party. He’d explain tomorrow and hope she understood.
He let himself out the back door and walked toward his truck, but two cars had boxed him in and he didn’t have enough room to pull away from the curb. Frustrated, he locked the toolbox in the truck and turned back to the house. The music and laughter drowned out his first knock. Emilee answered his second.
She blinked out at him in surprise. “What are you doing? I thought you were downstairs.”
“I was, but I’m through for the night.” He motioned toward the street. “I can’t get out. My truck’s blocked.”
“You’re leaving? Why?”
“I have a few calls to make.”
“Can’t you make them later? We’ve got pizza.”
“This can’t wait. Do you know who owns a blue Toyota and a red Ford Escort?”
“Matt and Brittany.” She waved him into the kitchen. “Come on, I’ll ask them to move.”
He trailed her into the dining room, surprised to find that the group was actually much smaller than it had sounded from downstairs. Open boxes of pizza, a stack of paper plates and another of napkins lined the counter.
Christa sat at one end of the table, drawing furiously on a pad of paper. Two boys about her age sat on either side of her, trying to guess what she’d drawn. Sharon sat with her back to Gabe. Her team flanked her and a few stragglers stood beside the table, watching and laughing.
Gabe let himself watch her for a few minutes, realizing she looked as if she belonged with these kids. They seemed to accept her as one of them and she looked relaxed and happy. As if she’d forgotten that she was a mother, that she set the rules, that she had responsibilities. He’d give anything to have Tracy act that way around him.
Emilee waved him toward the pizza on the counter. “Have some while you’re waiting. We’ve got plenty.”
“No, thanks. I—”
“You’d better,” she warned. “Mom thought you might change your mind and join us, so she ordered extra. Besides, Matt and Brittany are in the middle of a game. You might have to wait awhile.”
“Maybe they could interrupt the game for a minute to let me out.”
Emilee merely grinned. “Relax. You worry too much. Have some pizza.” And without giving him a chance to protest, she grabbed one of her friends by the arm and led her toward the stereo.
Gabe started after her, then thought better of it. He didn’t want to embarrass her. Besides, what would another half hour hurt?
He took a slice of pepperoni-and-black-olive pizza and leaned against the counter to eat it. Sheer heaven. He wolfed down the first piece and helped himself to another.
While he watched, the game shifted and Sharon started to draw. She still hadn’t noticed him standing there.
Out of c
uriosity, he stepped closer and watched while she scratched almost indecipherable figures onto the pad. Her teammates guessed wildly. She creased her forehead in concentration and tried again. More guessing, obviously none of them correct. Someone shouted a name Gabe didn’t recognize, but the kids all roared with laughter. Sharon smiled up at the girl sitting closest to her and caught sight of him standing there.
Her smile grew warmer and her hand stopped moving for a fraction of a second. Before anyone else noticed the sudden shift in her mood, she pulled herself together and kept going with the game. Finally, just before the time ran out, one of the boys standing behind her shouted the correct answer and she collapsed in her seat, feigning exhaustion.
She glanced up at Gabe again. This time, her smile seemed a little less personal.
Before he could respond, Christa tugged at his elbow. “Take my place. I’ve got to go.”
That was the last thing he felt like doing. He’d never fit in the way Sharon did. He shook his head and backed a step away.
“I’ve got to go.” She pushed him toward her chair and raced up the stairs, leaving him facing a dozen expectant faces.
The light of anticipation danced in Sharon’s eyes. Her lips curved into a smile and he knew that his response would either keep it there or wipe it away. His conscience pricked when he thought of Tracy, but he told himself to relax. He could call her later. Or even tomorrow.
Lowering himself into Christa’s seat, he picked up the pencil and met Sharon’s gaze. “What do I do?”
Five voices started in at once. He tried to concentrate on the explanation, but he couldn’t make sense of what anyone said. Someone shoved the game box in front of him and pointed at something, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Sharon’s smile.
He wondered if she knew how unlike him this was. How remote the chance that it would happen again. He couldn’t remember ever playing games with Tracy and her friends. In his experience, fathers didn’t do that. Fathers worked, they brought home the money and they doled out the discipline. Mothers played. Mothers laughed. Mothers loved.
The thought brought him up short. Did he really believe that? He must. He could almost hear his father’s voice telling him in one way or another that Malone men didn’t let anything come before their work.
