Another Chance to Love You

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  “Ed had some appointments made. See if you can’t keep them in his place.”

  Daniel nodded. “I’ll do it.” Without another word, he headed for his office, his mind whirring with possibilities, angles to explore, interviews to conduct.

  It was a picture-perfect day. A breeze blew off the lake, chasing away the humid heat that had greeted them upon their arrival. The sun hung suspended in a clear blue sky. People were out in droves—jogging, walking their dogs, bicycling.

  Heather drank in the sights with her usual enthusiasm, totally unfazed by the sheer size of the city and its population. She thought it was “way cool” that the city of Chicago had nearly three times the number of people than there were in the entire state of Idaho. Monica, on the other hand, felt like the proverbial hick from the sticks. She kept looking over her shoulder, just waiting for the mugger who was going to knock her down and steal her purse. Or worse.

  By the time they returned to Daniel’s high-rise apartment building, Heather had made a mental list of things she wanted to do during the next couple of weeks. High on the list, right after the zoo, was a Cubs baseball game and a visit to the Six Flags amusement park. Monica was just glad to be once again behind a locked door.

  Coward, she chastised herself more than once. She felt totally out of her element and very unsophisticated. It was not a pleasant feeling.

  She checked the answering machine for a message from Daniel. There was nothing from him, but there were two calls from her mother. She dialed the Fletcher residence, then began to unpack the groceries she and Heather had purchased on their way back to the apartment.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Oh, Monica, dear. I’m so glad you called me back.” Ellen immediately launched into a litany of wedding details.

  While she listened to her mother, Monica put a pan of water on the stove, then opened the package of lasagna noodles so they would be handy when the water came to a boil. Next she heated a large skillet in which to brown the ground beef and sausages. Every so often she made appropriate noises into the mouthpiece of the telephone so Ellen would know she was listening. By the time she hung up, the sauce was simmering over low heat while the noodles drained on a towel.

  She checked her watch. She’d expected Daniel to be here by now. She wondered if he had call waiting on this line. If not, maybe he’d tried to call her and couldn’t get through.

  She turned on the oven so it would preheat, then went to check on Heather. Her daughter was curled comfortably on the sofa, the television blaring.

  “Dinner will be ready in about an hour,” she announced.

  “Great! I’m starving.”

  “What are you watching?”

  “Same stuff that’s on at home.” Heather seemed surprised by that fact.

  “It’s cable TV. I guess everyone in the country has basically the same channels these days.” Monica looked at her watch again.

  As if reading her mother’s mind, Heather said, “I wonder what’s keeping Daddy. Shouldn’t he be here already?”

  “Soon, I hope.”

  Daniel leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head. His neck and shoulders ached, and his eyes hurt from going through so many papers, reading line upon line of tiny print. But he hadn’t been able to stop. Ed had put together an astounding amount of detailed information, some of it very incriminating. Daniel hadn’t known Ed was this good. If he had known…

  He smiled half-humorously. So this was what it was like to have some hotshot kid breathing down his neck. When Daniel first came to Chicago, he’d waited and watched for the chance to write a story that would catapult him into the top spot, right over the head of the paper’s most respected reporter. A man Daniel had considered an old-timer ready for retirement. Now he wondered how often Ed had thought about him the same way.

  His smile vanished. No matter what Daniel was able to do with this story, he was determined most of the credit would go to Ed Tuskin. He hoped Ed would be around to get the accolades for it. Even more important, he hoped the young father would be able to watch his sons grow up, hopefully play touch football or baseball or golf with them as they got older.

  He turned to look out the window and was shocked to find evidence of dusk tinting the sky. Was it that late?

  He reached for the phone and dialed his home number. Monica answered on the third ring. “Monica, I’m sorry,” he said without giving her a chance to do more than say hello. “I got tied up at the office. I didn’t realize what time it was.”

  “It’s okay, Daniel. I knew it must be important. Although I was getting a little worried when I didn’t hear from you.”

  He felt like a total jerk.

  “I’ve kept your dinner warm. Heather was hungry, so she and I ate some time ago.”

  Now he felt worse.

  “She’s anxious to tell you what we saw today.”

  “I’ll be out the door in five minutes. See you soon.”

  He’d already hung up the phone and was shutting down his computer when Charley stopped by his office. “I thought you’d still be here, Rourke. Mighty interesting reading, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” He rose from his chair and reached for his briefcase.

  “I’ve set up a meeting with Senator Neumeister tomorrow morning at nine. I want you to be there. We’re meeting in his attorney’s office.” He handed Daniel a slip of paper. The law firm’s name and address were written on it in Charley’s bold script.

  “Which way is Neumeister leaning?” Daniel asked. “Is he going to be honest, or will he cover for his friends in the state senate?”

  “I think he’ll confirm most of Ed’s information.”

  Daniel whistled softly.

  “Meet me at that address at eight forty-five. I’ll wait on the sidewalk, and we’ll go in together.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  They left Daniel’s office and walked together toward the elevator, still talking about the particulars of the story.

  It wasn’t until Daniel was halfway home that he remembered he’d promised Heather he would take her to the zoo the next day.

  Monica listened as Daniel explained to Heather why he would have to work on Saturday instead of taking her to the Lincoln Park Zoo. She saw the disappointment in their daughter’s eyes even as she said, “It’s okay, Daddy,” and gave him a hug.

  “How about Sunday?” he suggested.

  “Okay.”

  He straightened and met Monica’s gaze. “It really couldn’t be helped.”

  “I know.” She tried to hide her own disappointment. “Come on into the kitchen and have your dinner. You must be hungry.”

  “Let me wash up, and I’ll be right there.” He strode down the hall and disappeared into his bedroom.

  Heather’s hand slipped into Monica’s. “Sunday will still be fun, Mama.”

  “Of course it will. It’s only one extra day.”

  She gave her head a little shake. It was only one extra day. These things happened in the business world. The break-in at Solutions—and all the extra work it had caused—was a good example of what could happen to change one’s plans. Sometimes a person’s job had to take precedence. There were some things a person couldn’t put off, not even for one day, not even for his family.

  She knew that was all true, and yet she couldn’t stop the hollow, homesick feeling from rushing back. So she did her best to ignore it. Heather was accepting the disappointment. She wasn’t about to expect less of herself.

  While Daniel ate his dinner, he told Monica and Heather what he could about the story he was covering for the paper. He explained that he couldn’t give them particulars because of the nature of the investigation. But he did say it was the biggest thing he’d ever worked on, bar none.

  Monica heard the excitement in his voice; she saw it in his eyes. She wanted to be glad for him, but she was oddly disturbed instead.

  “Daddy,” Heather said at long last, “do you want to kn
ow what we did today?”

  He looked at his daughter. “Sure, squirt. Tell me all about it.”

  She launched into one of her energetic monologues, describing every new and strange sight they’d seen that day, from the street hawkers selling imitation designer watches right down to the teenage girl with hot pink colored hair, tattoos and body piercing whom they’d seen darting through traffic on her in-line skates. It wasn’t long before her parents were both laughing as they saw Chicago through their child’s eyes.

  Monica’s apprehensive feelings dissipated in the warmth of the kitchen. What had she to be concerned about? This was precisely what she’d dreamed of having. This was the sort of “family moment” that sold greeting cards and made Sunday night movies a hit.

  Finally, unable to hide her yawns or her drooping eyes, Heather was sent off to bed. Daniel helped Monica with the last of the dishes, then they went to Heather’s bedroom. Monica smoothed the sheet with one hand as she bent over to kiss Heather’s forehead.

  “Good night, honey.”

  “’Night, Mama.”

  Daniel stepped to Monica’s side, leaned down and kissed his daughter’s cheek.

  “’Night, Daddy.”

  “Good night, squirt.”

  Heather yawned. “See ya in the mornin’,” she mumbled as she rolled onto her left side.

  Before Monica had flipped off the light, Heather was sound asleep.

  “Wish I shut down like that,” Daniel whispered.

  “Me, too.”

  “I’ll probably be up half the night going over the rest of Ed’s materials.”

  “You have more work to do tonight?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got to be ready for that meeting in the morning.” He took hold of her hand and led her to the living room. “Wish we didn’t have to say good-night just yet,” he whispered. Then he kissed her again. “’Night. I’ll come for an early breakfast.”

  She knew it shouldn’t feel as if it were a personal rejection, but it did. Was this what their marriage would be like? Daniel frequently missing dinner and having to work into the wee hours of the night?

  After Daniel left the apartment, Monica put on her nightshirt and brushed her teeth, then crawled into bed. She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, and wondered why loving Daniel made her sometimes as miserable as it made her joyful.

  Real love—the kind of love God called upon His children to show toward others—was patient and kind. Real love wasn’t jealous. Real love didn’t demand its own way. Real love didn’t keep a record of when it was wronged.

  “Lord,” she prayed softly, “help me love Daniel with Your kind of love. Don’t let me be jealous of Daniel’s work. Don’t let me be petty and selfish. Stop me from keeping a record of any wrongs.” She drew a long, slow breath, then added, “Let me abide in Your peace.”

  The prayer helped, but even so, it was a long time before sleep overtook her troubled thoughts.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Daniel had come and gone before Monica awakened the next morning. Heather informed her she’d had breakfast with her dad, then handed her mom a note from him.

  Monica—Sorry I couldn’t wait until you were up. Hope you and Heather have a good day. I’ll be back just as soon as I can. I love you. D.

  “Well,” she said, putting on a more cheerful face than she felt, “what shall we do today?”

  Heather shrugged. “I don’t know. I sorta wanted to wait for Daddy to do the fun stuff.”

  She knew how her daughter felt. She wanted to do the fun stuff with Daniel, too. However, she didn’t want to mope around the apartment all day, waiting for him to return. She already felt lonely. She didn’t need to be so idle that she was checking her watch every five minutes.

  “How about if we go shopping for your new bedroom?”

  That got Heather’s attention. “Really? Today?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  “All right!”

  Monica ate a quick breakfast, then took her shower and got dressed. An hour later, she and Heather were on their way.

  They went to a shopping mall that contained, it seemed, every imaginable kind of store. They looked at beds and dressers, comforters and sheets, prints for the walls and curtains for the windows, a desk and chair and lamp for studying. Of course, they wouldn’t need to buy everything new. Many of Heather’s things would be shipped to Chicago from Boise. But it was fun to look.

  They stopped to eat lunch, sharing a basket of fish and chips and washing it down with root beer. Then they continued their shopping, this time looking in the clothing stores. A couple of hours later, they returned to the apartment with several bags full—and a balance on Monica’s credit card that she knew she would later regret. Both were eager to show Daniel what they’d found.

  He wasn’t in the apartment, but this time there was a message on the answering machine: “Monica, I’m sorry I didn’t catch you there. The meeting with Charley and the senator ran longer than I expected, and there are some important details I’ve got to follow up on today. I don’t know how much longer it’ll take me. Don’t worry if I’m not home for dinner. I’ll grab a bite along the way. I miss you both and hope you’re having fun. Make some coffee. We can drink it on the balcony when I stop in to see you.”

  The call had come in at two o’clock. It was nearly four now.

  “Mama?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Do you think Daddy will forget about the zoo tomorrow?”

  She glanced at Heather and smiled reassuringly. “Of course he won’t forget, honey.” She wished she felt as confident as she sounded.

  Daniel didn’t have any lingering doubts. Someone had tried to murder Ed Tuskin because he’d been getting too close to the truth. He was determined to finish this story for Ed. Hopefully, the young father would be able to read it himself.

  As the taxi carried Daniel toward his destination—a deserted warehouse on Elston Avenue—he was aware of the rapid beating of his heart and his heightened sense of perception. The adrenaline was pumping…

  And it felt terrific.

  After the Henderson trial, he’d been physically and emotionally drained. He thought he’d lost the drive required of a good investigative reporter. But it was back. He knew this could be the biggest story of his entire career. It was stories like this that got a guy a Pulitzer. He could imagine himself, Monica and Heather at his side, as he accepted the award.

  “You sure this is the address?” the cabbie asked, drawing Daniel’s attention back to the present.

  He looked out the window. The multistoried brick warehouse looked as if it was about to crumble. Windows were broken and graffiti was scrawled across the exterior.

  “Yeah, this is it.”

  He paid the driver and got out. As the taxi drove away, leaving him alone on the deserted street, he stood on the sidewalk and stared at the old building.

  This was the sort of place Ed had been at when he got shot. It could happen to him, too, Daniel thought as he looked around, but his instincts told him this meeting was legit. And his instincts were rarely wrong. He’d learned to depend upon those feelings over the years. He wasn’t about to ignore them now. This might be his one and only opportunity to meet with this informant. He couldn’t let the chance slip away.

  He made his way to the entrance on the south side of the warehouse. It was ajar, as he’d been told it would be. He pushed it open. The corresponding squeak and groan seemed loud in his ears, and he clenched his teeth. If someone besides the man he was meeting heard it, he could be in trouble.

  Trusting the Rourke luck would hold, he slipped through the opening into the darkened warehouse.

  Monica and Heather watched two movies on one of the premium cable channels. Daniel still wasn’t home by the time the second one ended.

  “You’d better go to bed, honey,” Monica said as she turned off the television.

  “I wanted to see Daddy.”

  “I know you did, but it looks like he’ll be work
ing late again. You’ll see him tomorrow.”

  Heather shuffled down the hallway to her room. Monica followed a few minutes later, tucking her in and kissing her good-night.

  After her daughter was asleep, Monica wandered from room to room, feeling lonely and wishing Daniel would return. The apartment seemed stark and empty. It was devoid of the sort of items that made a place feel like home. There were no family photos on the mantel or on the walls, no little touches of warmth.

  Her sense of aloneness increased when she went to the living room to wait for Daniel. Would this apartment ever seem like home to her? Would Chicago?

  She turned off the overhead light, then lay down on the couch for a catnap. She curled into a ball, her left arm used as a pillow, her right arm flung over her head as if she were hiding from something. She felt like crying, which she knew was silly. And knowing it only made her feel worse.

  He hadn’t abandoned her, she reminded herself. He was working. His work was important to him. She had always known that about him. She’d learned it years ago…the hard way.

  But he’d seemed different in Boise.

  Homesickness washed over her once again. She missed her house and her own kitchen and bedroom. She missed Cotton’s exuberant affection—wagging tail, lolling tongue, shedding hair and all. She missed her mom and dad. She missed Doug and Terri and Claudia and everyone else at the office.

  Most of all, she missed the Daniel she’d fallen in love with in Idaho.

  Tears slipped from her eyes, leaving damp tracks on her left cheek, the bridge of her nose and her arm.

  It was one-thirty in the morning before Daniel turned his key in his door. A lamp had been left on in the foyer. Otherwise, the apartment was dark and still.

  He was disappointed, although he shouldn’t have been. He’d hoped Monica would wait up for him. He’d wanted to share what he could about his investigation. He’d wanted to celebrate with her what this story could mean. He’d never had someone else with whom to share this feeling.

  Bypassing the living room, he took his briefcase to his office, then looked in on Heather. She was sound asleep, her sheet and blanket a jumbled mess. He wondered what she and her mother had done during the day; whatever it was, it looked like it had worn Heather out.