by BETH KERY
“They would have spoiled you rotten, especially my dad,” she told the baby.
She reached into the plastic bag and pulled out a black yearbook. All of the items had come from the Harbor Town basement. The house had sold three weeks ago. Ryan had brought back the remaining family items when he returned to San Francisco. He’d just recently divided them up, however, and brought Mari’s share to her condominium tonight. Or at least that’s the reason he’d given for dropping by on a Friday night at eight o’clock. Mari knew it really was just an excuse for checking up on her.
Who knew her big, bad, fighter pilot brother could be such a mother hen?
Mari checked the year on the book and saw that it was her own yearbook from her senior year. She’d been seventeen years old, filled with hope and head over heels in love with Marc. It’d been torture for her to be separated from him during the fall, winter and spring, although he would drive up to Dearborn occasionally. His visits had always been short, though, given her parents’ disapproval of their relationship.
She opened up the yearbook, smiling wistfully when she recognized youthful, long-forgotten faces.
It was cruel, the way time fell through your grasping fingers.
She paused when she saw a light pink envelope inserted between some pages. She opened up the envelope and realized it was her graduation card from her parents. Below the printed inscription, she saw both her parents’ handwriting.
From her mother: We will always be proud of our beautiful daughter. Always. Congratulations, Marianna!
She blinked a few unwanted tears out of her eyes so that she could see her father’s note.
Mari, Your entire future stretches ahead of you. My advice to you as you set about your journey is to never give up hope. Hope is putting faith to work when doubting would be easier. Know that you will always have our love, Dad.
For a full minute, she just stood there, staring at the message. It was as if she’d just looked up and seen Kassim Itani standing there…saw his thin face and small smile and the knowing twinkle in his dark eyes. The years had collapsed.
Her father had reached out and touched her across the vast barrier of time.
Still holding the card, she walked over to the window and stared out at the glittering high-rises, not really seeing them, but instead seeing her father’s face…
And Marc’s.
Hope is putting faith to work when doubting would be easier.
That’s what she’d done. She’d doubted when she should have hung on. She’d done the wise thing, the rational thing, but everyone knew hope wasn’t logical.
“Choose hope.”
It took her a moment to realize she wasn’t speaking to the baby. She was whispering to herself.
“Your mother is here, Marc.”
He did a double take at his administrative assistant’s unexpected announcement.
“Where?”
Adrian pointed at the office assigned to him at the courthouse at 26th and California. He had a briefing to attend with some of his top attorneys who were prosecuting a police officer accused of murdering his wife. It was a high profile case and he needed to do a million things before the briefing. All of those things faded in his mind at the news his mother was in his office. Brigit rarely came to the city, let alone to the criminal courthouse.
“Thanks, Adrian,” Marc muttered before he plunged into his office. His mother stood from her chair and turned to him. Marc thought she looked healthy enough, but—”
“Is everything all right, Mom?”
“Everything’s fine.”
Marc gave her a quizzical glance as he deposited his heavy briefcase on his desk. “Why are you here, then?” he asked, bending to give her a kiss.
“I just wanted to speak to you.”
“About what?” Marc asked as he settled in his chair.
Brigit also sat. “I was worried. You seemed so distant when we spoke on the phone yesterday.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re missing Mari.”
He blinked, shocked his mother had just said a name that was typically verboten to her. It was all the more disorienting to hear Mari’s name because he himself hadn’t spoken it since she’d left Harbor Town six weeks ago. He said it in his mind frequently enough. Too often, in fact.
“What makes you say that?” he asked, once he’d recovered from the shock of his mother willfully bringing up the topic of Mari Itani.
“Because I know you. It’s killing you that she left.”
Marc didn’t reply, just flipped the pen he’d been twiddling in his fingers onto the desk. He was getting angry.
“What’s your point, Mom? You came all the way to Chicago to say I’ve been missing Mari? So what if I have been?”
Brigit pursed her lips together before she spoke. “I thought perhaps I might be able to ease your misery some.”
His laugh was harsh. “I doubt it.”
Brigit inhaled deeply and then plunged ahead. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. I wanted to tell you that a week or two after Mari returned to Harbor Town—two days after my heart attack, in fact—I saw Mari at Harbor Town Memorial. She’d had an appointment there.”
Marc’s brown wrinkled in consternation. “Yeah. She hadn’t been feeling well.”
“Those dizzy spells. And nausea, perhaps?” Brigit asked.
“What are you getting at?”
“She was coming out of an obstetrician’s office, Marc. She told me herself she’d had an appointment there.”
He just stared at his mother’s face. In the distance a car alarm started blaring loudly.
“I’ve had my share of children. I know I haven’t seen Mari for years, but there’s a certain air a woman gets. There are signs. Mari is pregnant, Marc.”
He continued to gape at his mother. His heartbeat started to throb uncomfortably loud in his ears.
Brigit cleared her throat. “And I don’t think I need to tell you that if she was pregnant, it wasn’t with your child.”
“What?” he muttered. He felt like he was trying to absorb his mom’s words and meaning through a thick layer of insulation.
“Even if you two had…intimate relations once Mari had come back to Harbor Town, she wouldn’t have thought she was pregnant after a week. If she is pregnant—or even if she just thought so—it couldn’t be with your child. Mari must have been involved with someone else, Marc. That’s why I came to Chicago. I thought it might ease the sting of her leaving some…to know she must have been involved with another man.”
Marc sat forward slowly in his chair. “That’s why you came here? To tell me that…you thought it would make me feel better?” When his mother didn’t respond, Marc dazedly shook his head. “That’s one hell of a mean-spirited thing to do, Mom.”
Brigit’s face collapsed. “I’m doing it for you, Marc.”
“No,” he stated harshly. “You’re doing it for yourself. You’re doing it because you want the threat of Mari to disappear for good.” He stood abruptly, causing Brigit to start. He reached for his briefcase. “The incredible thing about it is, you did the opposite.”
Brigit stood, looking flustered. “What do you mean? Where are you going?”
“I’m going after Mari.”
He didn’t look back at his mother as he stormed out of the office.
He called to book a flight while he was in the cab. He didn’t even bother to go back to his condo to pack anything. This was too important. He was halfway to the airport and apologizing to an assistant district attorney for not being able to attend the upcoming briefing when another call came through on his cell.
He did a double take when he saw the caller identification.
It was Mari.
Why the hell was she calling him now when she’d refused all of his calls since she’d left?
He so forcefully plunged through the revolving doors of the Palmer House Hotel that they kept spinning a full revolution once he was inside. Mari looked over her shoulder at the sound
, her eyes huge in her face. For a second he just stood there, dazed.
Mari’s eyes. God, would he ever get over their impact?
She turned around. Everything seemed to slow down around him. Sounds became muffled and distant. It was just like when he’d followed her from her concert and walked through these very doors. She’d turned and he’d been compelled to call out when he’d seen her exquisite face.
This time was the same…and it was a thousand times different.
His gaze skimmed over her. She looked incomparably beautiful to him, wearing a dark blue skirt and a soft, cream-colored knit top that clung to her breasts. His eyes rested on the curve of her belly. He met her stare.
“Three months,” she said quietly.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered.
Her smile practically undid him. She stepped closer.
“I wanted to tell you about the baby. More than anything. But I had myself convinced I was doing the right thing by staying away. It took a voice from the past to make me see I wasn’t being wise. I was just giving into my fear…my doubts about the future. Our future. I made that realization last night, Marc, and I got on the first plane here this morning. I hope you can forgive me—”
Her words were cut off when he reached for her and lifted her in his arms. He buried his face in the soft fabric of her sweater and inhaled her scent.
“You’re sure? You’re not going to leave again?” he asked in a garbled voice.
She was pressing small, frantic kisses against his neck and jaw. He felt the wetness of her tears on his skin. “No. Never again.”
“You’ll stay with me?”
She put her hands on each side of his head and looked into his eyes. “I promise. If that’s what you want. I wasn’t sure…those things you said about not wanting another relationship—”
“Did you actually think that applies when it comes to you?” he asked incredulously. He kissed her with the single intent of silencing her doubts on that front.
“Our future was ripped away from us so long ago,” Mari murmured when he lifted his head a moment later. “We’ve been given a second chance. It’s a blessing, and I’m so sorry I couldn’t see that before.”
“As long as you see it now,” he whispered, his mouth hovering next to her lips. He kissed her softly, and when he caught her taste, hungrily. He growled low in his throat before he lifted his head. “God, I love you so much. I can’t believe we’re going to have a baby.”
She smiled. “I love you, too.”
He kissed away the tears on her cheek. “The future starts now, Mari.”
She took his hand and placed it on the curve of her belly. He went still at the sensation.
“Actually it started twelve or so weeks ago.” Her golden brown eyes were filled with joy and amusement as she glanced up at the high-ceilinged lobby. “Right in this very place.”
He smiled slowly. Laughter burst out of her throat when he spun her around, her long hair flying in the air. He set her back down on her feet and leaned over her. He spoke to her through nibbling kisses on her lips.
“What do you say we go back up to your room and celebrate our future to its fullest?”
She leaned up and pressed her mouth to his. He held her tight. Marc had the vague, distant impression that they were attracting a few stares from passersby, but he couldn’t have cared less. The realization had struck him that he held his whole world in his arms. His future…their future had never shone so bright.
Epilogue
The following spring
Mari thought her heart would burst with joy. The child in her arms had never seemed so beautiful to her as she did at that moment, nor had the man who sat beside her looked so wonderful. She squeezed Marc’s hand. He turned to her and smiled.
Perhaps it was the sublime spring day or maybe it was the special event they attended. The priest solemnly continued with his blessing of the lovely memorial fountain Marc had had commissioned to be built at the edge of the woods on Silver Dune.
She glanced down the row of seated visitors and caught sight of Eric Reyes. She smiled when he gave her a quick thumb’s up. She was sorry to see that Natalie hadn’t been tempted out of her solitude to attend the lovely outdoor ceremony.
Rylee Jean Kavanaugh chose that moment to make a loud, burbling sound in her sleep. Marc and she glanced down in surprise and concern, but Rylee resumed her peaceful nap, her tiny, rose-colored lips making a rhythmic, pursing movement as she slept.
“She’s going to wake up hungry as a horse,” Marc whispered.
Mari noticed his devilish grin and the way his gleaming blue eyes flickered quickly over her breasts.
“She’s got an appetite like you,” Mari whispered back, giving him a mock look of censorship.
Something caught her eye at the back of the seating area. Her smile faded. Marc turned to look where she stared.
“I can’t believe she came,” she whispered.
They watched Colleen Kavanaugh lead her mother to a seat in the back row. Almost every seat they’d set up in the clearing had been taken. The Family Center had gotten off to an excellent start. Clients attended the ceremony, as did family members, employees and people from the town.
Father Mike continued. “We would like to end this ceremony by having each of you bless this fountain. Those who have survived the pains of substance abuse and those who are trying to find the hope within themselves in order to survive please come to the front, grab a small portion of salt and toss it into the fountain. The salt represents toil and tears, but also stands for hope. Hope is invisible, something we must find within ourselves using the vision not of our eyes but of faith. Your blessings and wishes today may disappear like the salt in the water, but this fountain will be replenished and strengthened by your hope for the future. Please come forward and cast your wishes into this fountain.”
People began to stand and join in a line. Mari glanced back halfway through the ceremony and saw Brigit Kavanaugh sitting next to her daughter. She looked stiff and uncomfortable, as if she’d gate-crashed a party where she wasn’t welcome.
Things had improved between Brigit and Mari since she had moved to Chicago, obtained a position with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and married Marc. Rylee had been born four-and-a-half weeks ago, and a granddaughter had certainly made Brigit warmer, at times reminding Mari of the woman she used to know. However, Brigit still became tight-mouthed when any mention of The Family Center was made. That was why Mari was shocked Colleen had persuaded her mother to come.
Mari glanced uncertainly at Marc as they came back from dropping their salt into the fountain. He gave her a small smile of encouragement, and her love for him swelled. He’d been so supportive of everything she’d done with The Family Center. She knew he felt bad that his mother kept up a silent opposition to the project.
Father Mike said a few closing words and a prayer, and everyone started to depart. There was a reception following the ceremony in The Family Center. Mari should get inside there to help.
Instead, she stood. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered to Marc.
Brigit and Colleen were standing in preparation to leave when Mari approached. She still held a sleeping Rylee in one arm, but she extended her other hand.
“Brigit,” she said softly.
Brigit seemed confused, but she hesitantly took Mari’s hand.
She led her mother-in-law to the podium that stood in the front. Everyone was milling about or departing, their attention elsewhere, but she sensed Marc’s gaze on her like a reassuring touch. She nodded at the gold bowl containing the salt.
“Take some, Brigit.”
Brigit stiffened at her words.
“This ceremony is for the survivors of substance abuse,” Mari spoke quietly. “That’s what you are, Brigit. That’s what this place is about. It’s about making a future despite the pain of the past.”
She saw Brigit’s throat convulse. For a second, Mari worried she was going to t
urn and walk away, but then Brigit reached with a trembling hand. Mari gave her a smile and led her to the edge of the lovely, new, stone-and-metal fountain.
Brigit held out her arm. The grains fell through her parted fingers like solidified tears. The hand that had released the salt found Mari’s. Mari felt Brigit’s flesh shaking next to her own. She tightly clasped Brigit’s hand before they turned away.
Mari and Marc stood in each other’s arms later. They stared out at the lake and the sinking sun. Almost everyone had left the reception at The Family Center. Marc had asked her to take a walk with him, and Colleen had happily agreed to watch her niece for a few minutes.
“Every time I think I couldn’t love you more you prove me wrong,” Marc said quietly from above her.
“I feel the same way about you.”
He grinned and lowered his head, nuzzling her nose. “I’m thankful you decided to take the leap, Mari.”
“It’s only half as scary with you next to me.”
“And twice as exciting.”
“Cocky,” she chastised softly. She went up on her toes and kissed her husband in the golden light of the setting sun.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-8930-1
THE HOMETOWN HERO RETURNS
Copyright © 2011 by Beth Kery
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
