Natasha's Diary

by Heather Greenis

  Over the years, Stewart had planned to tease his daughter when she reached this stage of her life, but now, given the opportunity, he lacked the heart. Instead, he sympathized with her dilemma. “After meeting Adam, I believe he has strong feelings for you. He’s risking rejection by approaching you. Without realizing your momma’s desire to be kissed, I risked a friendship I worshipped.”

  “Have you given Adam a signal that you desire more than friendship?” Izabella asked.

  “I have tried, but….” She stopped.

  Stewart noted the frustration in her tone.

  “Not all men are as blunt as your poppa. Adam is intelligent, but being shy, I doubt he has considered the possibility of pursuing a physical relationship with you. The way he looks at you, I believe his emotions are developing.”

  Stewart watched Hope’s facial expression as she listened to Izabella. History was repeating itself. Adam would feel the same fear and anguish he experienced when pursuing Natasha. Adam’s dilemma would be magnified ten-fold given his shy demeanour.

  “Hope Donovan. You’re a clever young woman. Although Adam is an intelligent young man, I don’t believe he will attempt to pursue a more intimate relationship with you. If you wish to do so it seems that you must take the initiative.”

  The look she gave him suggested he was asking the impossible. The self-confident daughter he raised disappeared. In her place was a shy, bashful little girl. “Poppa, I cannot,” she groaned.

  “Hope. I recall you suggesting I approach Jane when we had yet to make an acquaintance. I didn’t know her name. You, my darling daughter, have established a friendship. If your momma had not moved her head, I cannot guarantee I would have kissed her. You exist in this world because I startled her and our friendship developed into a romance. You must find a way to open your heart and take a chance. You have my support, regardless of the consequences. You must give that some thought. I cannot offer more than support. I shall leave and escort Izabella home.”

  “I love you, Poppa.”

  “And I you.” With a quick wink, Stewart kissed Hope’s forehead, reached for Izabella’s hand, and led her out of the room.

  They settled in the buggy.

  “I find myself shocked and speechless,” Izabella admitted. “She was courted by a number of fine young men, yet she never felt moved to kiss them.”

  “I’m ashamed I questioned whether she and Adam were….” Stewart turned his gaze away from Izabella, still unable to openly speak of the topic.

  “You never cease to amaze me. A blunt man that becomes bashful. Hope is truly a Donovan. As for Hope and Adam, it will be a special moment. I hope the kiss will take her breath away, as our first kiss did to me. You still possess the ability to take my breath away.”

  * * *

  “How embarrassing for Hope,” Keeghan exclaimed. “That wasn’t a discussion I would want to have with my parents.” She looked toward Will. “You, on the other hand would have gone home and told Kirsten and Lucas all about it.”

  Will smiled, shrugged his shoulders, and looked at Alexander. There was no comment.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Hope lay in bed on Sunday night thinking of Adam, the orphanage, and her father’s visit. She had been questioning her decision to study history since her first day at the orphanage. “I am in the wrong course.” Eventually, she drifted off to sleep.

  * * *

  Monday morning Hope found Adam sitting, studying for an exam in the library. She sank into the chair beside him. Not wishing to interrupt his train of thought, she reached for his psychology text and leafed through it.

  That night during dinner, she turned to face her father.

  “Poppa, I wish to change my minor. I’ve decided I’d like to study psychology.”

  “Given your academic success, I can’t see any reason the dean would decline your request. My only question to you, will you regret this decision if a serious relationship does not transpire between you and Adam?”

  “No. Regardless, I plan to dedicate my life to assisting others, like Momma would have done.”

  “Well then. With that confidence, we shall insure your goal is met.”

  “Would you accompany me to speak with the dean?”

  “Certainly.”

  An appointment was made, and Stewart followed Hope into the office.

  “Stewart Donovan. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” the dean stated, looking up over his spectacles. He stood.

  Do I know this man? Stewart shook his extended hand as he studied the features of the man with a grey receding hairline and stocky build. His face was not familiar.

  “This school commemorates memorable students,” the dean continued, “and your name is voiced regularly. Outstanding grades and a successful business.”

  Stewart appreciated the praise, but he was a busy man taking time from his schedule, and Hope was missing a class.

  “Thank you, but I am here on my daughter’s behalf. Hope would like to transfer out of her history class and into psychology. She wishes to keep studying English Literature as her major.”

  “I see,” he acknowledged, opening the file on his desk. “Given Hope’s marks, I’m willing to consider this request.” He turned his attention to Hope. “Miss Donovan. Psychology is a difficult course. I will give you three months to achieve grades that are acceptable. I’m not expecting to be disappointed.”

  “You won’t be,” she assured him. She turned to Stewart with bright sparkling eyes.

  * * *

  That weekend, Hope and Nanny travelled for their monthly lunch with Anna. Once seated at the restaurant, Hope couldn’t contain herself and began chatting.

  “I’ve been spending time at an orphanage.”

  “How delightful,” Nanny praised.

  “An orphanage? Your mother was granted permission to spend time at an orphanage in her youth. It was unacceptable. It proved to be a waste of her time. You must seek a charity that adds value to your life,” Anna lectured.

  Hope was aware her grandmother was less than pleased with her upbringing. Anna was of the belief children should be seen but not heard. Hope thought that notion was silly. Becoming educated granted children a voice. She was hardly a child now at any rate, but a woman attending a prestigious university. She was annoyed that Anna lectured before she spoke about Adam or the joy she was experiencing. Having expected her entire family to be pleased, Hope finally saw the woman her momma had written about in her diary. Hope sat back on her chair and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

  “I am not asking your opinion on the matter, but merely informing you of how I spend my days. If you are unable to keep your negative opinions to yourself, our monthly visits will come to an abrupt end. I am well past the legal age to make that decision.”

  Anna glared at Nanny, mumbling under her breath. Nanny remained silent.

  “Shall I assume then, that after this visit, we will no longer get together?” Hope asked.

  “I lost my daughter. I will not risk being alienated from my granddaughter. I will refrain from responding negatively on the topic in the future.”

  Later, Hope heard her whispering to Nanny. “She is her mother’s daughter.”

  Proud of herself, in her mind, being compared to her momma was a compliment.

  * * *

  Two weeks later, Hope stood inside the orphanage door, looking out the window, waiting for her father to arrive. She looked into the office where Adam was speaking with his mother. “Poppa and Izabella are here. I’ll see you tomorrow at school, Adam. Goodnight, Mrs. Venderkemp.”

  “I’ll walk you out, Hope.” Adam followed her to the buggy. “Mr. Donovan. If I could take just a moment of your time?”

  Poppa stepped down from the buggy. “Certainly.”

  “I would like to thank you on behalf of my parents and the entire orphanage for the more than generous donation.”

  Pride filled her being. Her father had given money to assist with the running of
the orphanage.

  “Hope!” Her father’s harsh tone shocked her to the core.

  She whirled to face him and found his expression livid with anger. What have I done?

  “Knowing I never mentioned the topic, did you not assume I preferred to remain anonymous? You have disrespected me horribly,” he thundered.

  Hope blinked in bewilderment. Her face heated uncomfortably. Her hands trembled as she twisted them in her skirt. Her pulse hammered in her ears. She struggled to understand what had upset him so much. Poppa did not lecture her often, and never in public. What in heaven’s name will Adam think of me—of Poppa? She didn’t know how to respond, having done nothing to warrant such criticism. I can’t look at Izabella or Adam. She wanted very much to cry but refused to—not in Adam’s presence. Hope stared blankly at the ground.

  “Sir,” Adam’s voice quavered. She looked up in surprise at his intervention on her behalf. “Hope did not speak of this,” Adam blurted. “I regret I must inform you it was obvious. You volunteered at this orphanage when you were young, and now Hope is spending time here. We are not accustomed to receiving substantial donations. The benefactor was obvious.”

  She felt a finger under her chin, lifting her head until she looked into father’s eyes.

  “Please forgive me. I’m humbled by my error. Never again will I raise my voice to you in public. I am sorry, my darling daughter, to have misjudged you so badly.”

  She was pleased and proud of him for apologizing in Adam’s presence. She gave a slight smile to show her gratitude. His attention shifted to Adam. “You are very welcome,” he said formally.

  * * *

  That night, Poppa came into her room and sat on her chair.

  “Where is Izabella?”

  “In the parlour, speaking with Vicki. I asked for a moment alone with you. I wish to apologize again. I humiliated myself with an assumption that was obviously unjustified. After an error in judgement, I overreacted. I embarrassed myself, as well as you, in front of both Izabella and Adam. This afternoon was a lesson in humility. You have my word, it will never happen again. You are my life, Hope Donovan. I cannot live with myself if I were to tarnish our relationship.”

  She embraced him. “That will never happen,” she assured him.

  Hope lay in bed for a long while thinking about the conversation she had with her father months earlier, the conversation about her growing feelings toward Adam. The school year would end soon, and she wouldn’t see Adam during the summer. The weeks would be dreadfully long. She had to find a way to stay in touch with him over the summer months. Her heart pounded with the thought, giving her a restless night of tossing and turning.

  It was a long day at school and an even longer walk to the orphanage the next afternoon. She wished to broach the subject, but didn’t know how to open the conversation.

  Later that afternoon, Hope was playing with some children when Adam joined her on the edge of the sandbox. Anticipation of the conversation she wished to start made her hands clammy and her heart pound. I’ll wait until tomorrow. No. This will not be easier tomorrow, next week, or next year. Enough procrastinating. To wait means another restless night. She reached for Adam’s hand.

  “I have something I wish to give you,” she informed him, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt.

  Hope led Adam away from the sandbox and toward the back of the orphanage. Once behind the building, she looked around to ensure they had privacy. With her heart pounding so hard, it thrummed in her ears. Her hands became so clammy with sweat, she lost her nerve. She wasn’t certain she had ever gained it, but didn’t wish to justify leading Adam to the location without cause. What can I say? I wish to show you around the building, the same building you were born and raised in? He was expecting her to say something.

  Without an option, she turned to face him. Hope never uttered a sound, but placed her hands on his shoulders and stretched onto her toes. Adam’s focus never shifted from her. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his. Pulling back, she opened her eyes. Adam was staring at her, but he never moved, never uttered a word. His facial expression was, for a lack of a better term, blank. The reaction terrified her. Is he upset, disgusted? What is he thinking? Silence rang in her ears. Panic stricken, she had choices. Run? Say something? Attempt a second kiss, hoping Adam would respond? Pray he would return her kiss? If she ran, she couldn’t return. Stay? But what could she say? She heard Poppa’s encouraging voice, as if he were standing beside her. ‘You must be aggressive. I will support and comfort you.’

  She stretched up, closed her eyes, and allowed her lips to touch his for a second time. She didn’t pull back, but allowed the contact to last longer. Odd and thrilling emotions spiralled through her stomach, but there was no response or signal from Adam. Nothing. Her heart broke. He did not return her regard. Hope was prepared to run from the orphanage and never return if Adam did not respond favourably. This could be the happiest day of her life, or the worst. Adam broke the contact. She opened her eyes, waiting for Adam’s response.

  “Hope,” he pleaded. “I cherish your friendship, but cannot allow this. I plan to manage this orphanage when I am finished school. You deserve a man that is able to offer the life to which you are accustomed.”

  He didn’t feel he was worthy of her. He was wrong. So wrong. He was more than worthy of her affection. Relief flooding through her, she took a breath to settle her pounding heart. He cares about me. Hope placed her finger on his lips to silence him.

  “My parents graduated from Picton University,” she responded in a soft tone, “as you will. I believe in my heart if my momma was alive today, I too would have been raised within an orphanage, a business she and Poppa owned. We have been chums for the past nine months. I cherish my time by your side. You are handsome, intelligent, compassionate, and unlike any man I have been acquainted with. I wish to become more than your friend—more than your study partner.”

  Doubt and disbelief clouded his expression. “Are you certain?”

  “Yes. Please, kiss me.”

  Adam placed his hands on her cheeks and brought his lips to hers. He parted his lips and his tongue entered her mouth. Hope’s heart pounded. Exhilarated, every nerve in her body sang in ecstasy. The kiss was everything she could have ever hoped for, and she never wanted it to end. Breathless as they parted, his gaze locked with hers.

  “You’re glowing, Hope Donovan,” he finally managed to whisper. “Your blue eyes are sparkling lakes I could happily drown in.”

  “I’ve been informed my eyes tell my emotions. I’d be surprised if they weren’t sparkling.”

  “I attempted to convince myself your interest was in the orphanage and not me. I wouldn’t allow myself to think otherwise.”

  “You captivated my heart the day we met in the library. You smiled, and I was lost.”

  Adam smiled, took her hand in his and led Hope to the entrance of the orphanage. Seeing her father’s buggy, Adam showed Hope the time on his watch. They had spent more time behind the building than either intended.

  Chapter Forty

  Stewart stopped the buggy at the orphanage, expecting Hope to run out as she always did. There was no sign of either Hope or Adam. Questioning whether there was a problem causing the delay, Stewart stepped down, assisted Izabella to the ground, and wandered into the building. Adam’s father greeted them before his mother stepped out from behind a closed door.

  Hope and Adam entered, interrupting their conversation. His daughter was glowing. Tempted to tease her, he kept his thoughts to himself.

  Hope was unusually quiet as they ate, obviously preoccupied as she sat across from Vicki and Izabella. Unable to remember an entire meal when Hope wasn’t chatting, he fought a grin. She stared at the food on her plate, oblivious to the conversation around her.

  Hope excused herself to go to her room. Vicki and Greg offered to take Brodie out.

  “I believe Hope has been kissed,” Izabella whispered once she and Stewart were alo
ne. “What are your thoughts, Poppa?”

  “I am bursting with pleasure. I don’t intend to wait another minute before confirming our assumption.” Stewart pushed his chair from the table and extended his hand to Izabella, inviting her follow. He tapped on her open door. Hope glanced up from her desk.

  “Poppa.”

  “Well, after the anticipation of the kiss, was it pleasing?”

  Izabella pulled her hand from his grip and placed both hands over her face. Hope glared at him, her face scarlet. She instinctively placed her hands on her cheeks.

  “Poppa.” She gave a nervous giggle. “How did you know?”

  “You were glowing when you walked into the orphanage with Adam.”

  She titled her head down. The colour in her cheeks intensified. He chuckled.

  “I pray I’m not as transparent the first time I….”

  The topic. The dreaded sex topic. His cheeks burned. How humiliating. I’m blushing in the company of both Hope and Izabella. Izabella chuckled.

  “That topic is too personal, even for a blunt father,” he admitted.

  “That’s pleasing to hear.” Hope giggled.

  Is she mocking me, or is it a nervous giggle?

  “I’m embarrassed to talk about the kiss,” she admitted.

  “I recall my first kiss. A kiss I shared with your momma. It was magical, truly memorable.”

  “If I recall properly, Momma described your first kiss as ‘wow’.” The glow returned to her face. “I experienced that as well. Will it always be that way?”

  “Indeed, it can be. Kissing your momma was always a joy.” Stewart embraced her. “It is pleasing to see you glow with such happiness. Your aunt and Nana and Papa would be honoured to meet your beau. May I suggest setting a plate beside yours on Sunday?”