Sweet Home Colorado (The O'Malley Men)

by C. C. Coburn

  You’re a coward! Grace admonished herself. She didn’t have the guts to come clean to the Farquars to their faces. Instead, she wrote a check to cover the next three months’ rent, then sealed it and the note in an envelope. That done, she set about writing a long letter to Jack.

  It was hard to find the words at first, but in time she did and they flowed as profusely as her tears. It was well after midnight before she’d finished and placed the envelope containing Jack’s letter beside the others. Tomorrow she’d tell Edna there was something for her on the table in the apartment.

  Feeling emotionally drained, Grace stood under the shower, letting the tears flow once more.

  * * *

  TRUE TO HER WORD, Edna pulled up right at 6:00 a.m. Grace was waiting for them with her suitcases and Millie on her leash. She’d barely slept and had spent the past hour with ice packs on her eyes trying to lessen the telltale swelling that said she’d been crying most of the night.

  But Grace was in control of her emotions now. She’d had a few hours to think and she’d made some firm decisions about her future—a future she hoped would eventually include Jack. But if not, it might include her daughter.

  Taking a deep breath she got up from the bottom step and went to say hello to the Farquars, towing one of the suitcases.

  Frank began to get out of the passenger seat to help, but Grace said, “They’re not heavy, I can manage.”

  She greeted Edna through the window and said, “I’ve had an emergency come up. Would you mind dropping me at the airport after Frank’s appointment?”

  “Sure thing. If it’s an emergency, shouldn’t we drop you first?” she asked, popping the trunk.

  Grace loaded the first suitcase, which was light, because it only contained Millie’s bed, food bowls and toys. She’d left a lot of her clothes boxed up in the apartment, with a note asking Edna to send them to Boston whenever it was convenient.

  She hefted the second suitcase into the trunk and smiled at Edna. “I hope you don’t mind if Millie comes with us?”

  “Of course not, dear,” Edna assured her. “But if you’re just going for a short time, why not leave her here? She’s welcome to stay with us.”

  “I...I’m not too sure how long I’ll be. It could take a while.” She shrugged. “It’s a...family matter.”

  Edna nodded and said, “I see. Well, if there’s anything you need me to do while you’re gone, just ask.”

  Grace couldn’t believe she was walking away from good people like Edna Carmichael and all the friends she’d made in Spruce Lake over the past couple of weeks. But she had her penance to pay, and until she’d done that, she could never look these people in the eye again.

  * * *

  FRANK’S APPOINTMENT WENT well. Dr. Rivers was thorough and backed up the diet plan Grace had outlined, which delighted Edna no end and left Frank sulking. However, with a male doctor supporting the women, Frank had no choice but to pay attention to his health. Dr. Rivers prescribed some medication and made an appointment to follow up on Frank’s progress in two weeks.

  Frank seemed in better spirits by the time they all piled into the Caddy to drive to the airport. He was especially relieved that he wasn’t facing surgery. However, Dr. Rivers had told him that if he didn’t watch his diet and general health, he could be. Within the year!

  Millie greeted them effusively. She’d had to be locked in the car during the appointment, but fortunately the garage was under the building, so she was cool in the shade, and with the Caddy’s windows rolled down a little, she had sufficient air. She’d probably slept the whole time they’d been gone.

  * * *

  AN HOUR LATER, Millie was being loaded into the crate Grace had purchased at a Denver pet store in preparation for her very first flight.

  Grace had nearly burst into tears as she’d said her farewells to the Farquars at the airport curb, insisting they get on their way to Spruce Lake rather than come in and wait with her.

  At Boston’s Logan Airport, Millie and Grace were reunited amid much happy tail-wagging and many wet kisses. Fortunately, she found a cab that would accept a dog—something Grace hadn’t considered the night before when she’d decided to take Millie to Boston.

  Letting herself into her apartment overlooking the harbor, she was hit by a blast of hot, stuffy air because the place had been locked up for several weeks. Millie bounded inside to look out the fifth-floor windows. Grace switched on the air conditioner and unpacked Millie’s suitcase, placing her bed beside the sofa and filling her water and food bowls. Then, exhausted, she collapsed onto her sofa and stretched out, the only sound in the room Millie snuffling her kibble. Starving, Grace realized she hadn’t eaten since yesterday at lunch—she’d been too stressed to eat the meal she and Jack had prepared and she’d skipped breakfast and lunch today, apart from a pack of pretzels on the plane. She called her favorite Chinese restaurant and ordered takeout, then went into her study and searched through the filing cabinet. At the very back, tucked underneath the vertical files, she found what she was looking for.

  Returning to the living room, Grace shuffled through the papers until she located the phone number she needed. She had to do this now, not tomorrow, not next week.

  With trembling fingers, she punched in the number and waited.

  “Amelia Johansen speaking.”

  Grace froze. She hadn’t given a thought to the fact that her daughter might answer the phone.

  “Hello?”

  Oh, God! What should she do? Hang up? No! This was her daughter. She couldn’t hang up on her.

  Grace cleared her throat. “Hi! This is Gr— Dr. Saunders,” she said. “Could I speak with your mom or dad, please?”

  “Sure,” Amelia said, and Grace’s heart turned over at the sound of her daughter’s voice. “Mom! Dad! There’s some doctor on the phone for you!”

  Grace heard the phone being put down and Amelia—her child—walking away, humming. She smiled at that. She used to hum to herself. What did her daughter look like? Grace wondered. Was she tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed like her father? For twelve long years, Grace had resisted learning anything about her, fearing that if she did, she’d want to go and claim her in a weak moment—which was, of course, totally illegal under the terms of the adoption. But still, she didn’t trust herself, so she’d asked Amy and Gil Johansen not to send her photos or updates on Amelia, although she did make sure it was okay for her to send presents on Amelia’s birthdays and at Christmas. She signed the cards Grace, not Mom. Amy was Amelia’s mom.

  “Hello?”

  Grace recognized Amy’s voice. Even after all these years, she sounded the same.

  “Amy, it’s Grace Saunders,” she said quickly. “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell Amelia who I am.”

  “Thank God!” Amy breathed. “She said it was a doctor on the phone.”

  “I am a doctor, Amy.”

  “Oh.” She could tell the other woman was confused, imagined her taking a seat, trying to deal with the fact that her daughter’s birth mother was calling after all these years.

  “What can I do for you, Gr—er, Doctor?” she asked, and Grace guessed Amelia had come back into the room. “Can you give me a moment?” Amy asked. “I need to go somewhere more private.”

  “What’s up, Mom?” Grace heard her daughter ask. “Gramma’s okay, isn’t she?”

  Her daughter sounded concerned—so Amelia was a caring person. That was good. Better than good. It meant the Johansens were raising her properly.

  “Gramma’s fine, honey. I just didn’t want to interrupt your reading.”

  And her daughter liked to read? Grace felt her heart swell. More than ever, she wanted to meet this little girl.

  “Okay, I’m in another room. What can I do for you, Grace?” she asked again.

  Grace took a deep breath, unsure how her request would be received. “Remember, when you adopted Amelia, that I had one request?”

  “Ye-es,” the other woman said. “You asked if you
could meet her, when you felt it was time.”

  “It’s time,” Grace said, and her voice broke. She grabbed at the bridge of her nose, trying to stem her tears.

  “Grace? Are you all right?” Amy asked. “Are you crying?”

  “I am,” Grace admitted, half laughing at herself. “I am. But they’re happy tears, I think.”

  “That’s good,” the other woman said.

  Amy was so calm. It was one of the things that had helped Grace choose the Johansens to be Amelia’s parents. She wanted her to have a mother who was calm, who wouldn’t fly off the handle or be impatient. A mother who would love her unconditionally.

  Guilt pierced Grace’s heart. Her request might drive a wedge between Amy and Amelia. She couldn’t do that to them. “Forget it,” she said quickly. “Forget I called.”

  She was about to hang up when she heard Amy say loudly, “Grace!”

  Amy was usually soft-spoken, but her shout made Grace lift the phone to her ear again. “I’m still here,” she said.

  “Thank goodness! I’ve wanted to get in touch with you for a while. She wants to meet you, Grace!” Amy spoke almost breathlessly. “Ever since her last birthday, she’s been pestering me with questions about you. It’s so strange, because before that she hardly ever did. Please say you still want to meet her, too?”

  Grace could have wept with joy. “Thank you!” she breathed.

  “Don’t thank me, thank you, Grace, for giving us the gift of our beautiful daughter.”

  Grace closed her eyes, knowing she had done the right thing by giving Amelia to these kind and loving parents. But she’d done the wrong thing by denying Amelia’s father knowledge of her—and she needed to make that right.

  “I’d like to arrange to meet Amelia as soon as possible, Amy. But first I need to tell you something. And you might not like it.”

  * * *

  HALF AN HOUR LATER, Grace hung up the phone. How different she felt from last night, when she thought her world had ended. Tomorrow, she would meet her daughter. Elation bubbled up inside Grace, spilling over until she laughed out loud. And not just meet her, she was going to spend the weekend with Amelia and her family. Amy had invited her to stay so they could all get to know one another.

  Amy wasn’t upset that Grace had lied about Amelia’s father when they’d signed the adoption paperwork. The biological father had to agree to the adoption, so Grace had stated “Father Unknown” on Amelia’s birth certificate. In fact, Amy had wanted to hear all about Jack, what he did, where he lived. Grace had told her everything—about how they’d met and eventually split up, Jack’s service with the peace corps, his time in the seminary, his apprenticeship program for disadvantaged youth. She’d spoken with pride of his achievements so Amy would know what a good person Amelia’s biological father was.

  From Amy, she’d learned that Amelia dreamed of becoming a doctor, that she read profusely, played lacrosse and had a lot of friends.

  “I’m going to meet my daughter tomorrow!” she told Millie, and rubbed her ears. Millie wagged her tail and licked Grace’s hand. “And you’ve been invited along to meet her, too!” Millie’s tail wagged harder.

  In her bedroom Grace searched through her wardrobe, looking for something suitable to wear the next day. Everything seemed too formal and Amy had told her to dress casual. But the only really casual clothes Grace had were those in her suitcase or back in Spruce Lake. She rushed out to the living room and rummaged around until she came up with her denim skirts. “Perfect!” she said, taking the longer of the two skirts to her laundry room.

  Once the skirt was washed and pressed, Grace laid out her clothes for the following day—a white camisole, a three-quarter-sleeve blouse she could leave open overtop, designer sandals. After all, she needed to show off that pedicure. Packing a few items in an overnight bag, Grace had to take a deep breath. She was almost jumping out of her skin with joy and anticipation.

  Her takeout had arrived while she was talking with Amy. Grace reheated it and curled up on the sofa, eating her kung pao chicken right out of the container with chopsticks while she watched her favorite Sandra Bullock movie.

  And then she was being awakened by the insistent buzzing of her cell phone. Grace sat up groggily, realizing she’d fallen asleep in front of the television. She glanced at the screen. Jack.

  Grace couldn’t talk to him right now. First, she’d meet her daughter, then she’d deal with Jack. She switched off her cell, stumbled to the bathroom, showered and fell asleep still wrapped in her towel.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jack cursed and slammed his cell phone down on the countertop.

  “I’m so sorry, dear,” Mrs. C. told him as they stood in the tiny kitchen of the apartment over her shop. “I didn’t find the letters until just now. Frank and I spent the day in Denver and didn’t get home till late. Then I cooked his dinner and it was only afterward that I remembered Grace saying she’d left something here for me. I didn’t realize there was a whole pile of letters for various people.”

  “It’s okay, Mrs. C. I’m just grateful you didn’t wait till morning to let me know.”

  “Would you like me to try calling her?”

  “No point. Her phone’s going straight to voice mail and I have no other way of contacting her.”

  “Would she be in the Boston phone directory?”

  “No, she told me she has an unlisted number.”

  “That’s a shame. What else can we do?”

  Jack liked that Mrs. C. wanted to make it her mission to get ahold of Grace. Lucky he’d still been in town when the old lady called to tell him Grace had left him a letter. He’d almost not come, he was so angry with her. But it had chilled him to the bone when Mrs. C. confessed that Grace had paid three months’ rent—and asked to have the rest of her belongings sent on to Boston. Jack then knew Grace had left with no intention of returning. He had to know what the letter to him said.

  He’d read it, not missing the tearstains and her brutal honesty about why she hadn’t told him about their child, why she’d given her up. And because Grace had provided Mrs. C. with her shipping address, he now knew where to find her.

  “You, my dear Mrs. C., are going home to look after that husband of yours. And I’m going to find Grace!”

  The old woman’s face lit up and she clapped her hands. “How romantic!” she said breathlessly.

  “I’m going to Boston to get my lady back. And find our daughter.”

  Once he’d left, Jack called two different airlines and found a flight leaving at midnight from Denver and arriving in Boston via Newark around eight in the morning. He didn’t have time to go home and pack anything; he needed to hotfoot it to Denver to catch his flight. The sooner he got to Grace, the better. The sooner he told her what a complete horse’s backside he was and beg for her forgiveness, the better.

  * * *

  GRACE WOKE EARLY, thrilled to be meeting her daughter. Amy had invited her for lunch, but when Grace was going through her mail, killing time before she left, Amy called, saying Amelia was so excited she’d asked if Grace could come sooner.

  “I’m on my way!” Grace said, leaping up from the sofa, scattering the mail in her haste. She ran the brush through her hair one final time, grabbed Millie’s leash and the overnight bag and raced out her front door—slap-bang into Jack’s broad chest.

  “Hey!” he said. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

  Grace just stared at him mutely.

  Jack? Jack was here in Boston? In her apartment?

  Maybe she’d dreamed that phone call this morning and was still asleep? No, it wasn’t a dream, Millie was going insane at the sight of him.

  “Gracie?”

  His use of her old nickname snapped Grace out of her trance and she shook her head, unable to grasp that he was really here. “How...how did you find me?” she asked.

  “You left your address for Mrs. C., remember?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Grace couldn’t think of an in
telligent thing to say.

  “So. Where are you going?” he asked again, indicating her overnight bag.

  “Why are you here?” she countered, not ready to tell him were she was headed.

  “I got your note and tried to call you, but your phone was off. So I decided to fly here and talk to you in person.”

  “In person?”

  He frowned. “Yes, in person. Look, can we go inside?” he said, trying to move her backward into the apartment, but Grace held her ground.

  “No!” she said, still having trouble with this surreal situation. Never in a million years had she imagined finding Jack on her doorstep. “I have an appointment. I have to leave.”

  “Can it wait? I have something important I need to say to you.”

  “I think you said it all yesterday, Jack. I understand. You hate me.” She could feel the tears again, and she needed to get out of there before she lost her composure. “Goodbye,” she said, and pushed past him toward the elevators.

  He caught her arm as she pressed the down button.

  “Grace, please? Give me five minutes?”

  Grace’s shoulders sagged. Since he’d bothered to fly all this way, she could do that, even if it was to listen to more abuse about the fact that she’d hidden the existence of their child from him. She deserved it and owed him at least five minutes for what she’d done. “Okay.” She led the way back to her apartment. Millie paused on the threshold, unsure what was happening. “Come, girl!” she said, slapping her thigh.

  Leaving her overnight bag by the door, Grace went to the wall of windows that looked out over the harbor. It was a calming view, in spite of all the harbor traffic. She needed to work on being calm. Crossing her arms, as if to protect herself, she waited.

  “I’ve been a complete horse’s ass,” Jack said.