by Leah Atwood
“I think I’m the one who owes you the thanks.” Maisy gave a half-smile. “If I didn’t get to see Dominic soon, I would have gone crazy. How do military wives and girlfriends do it with their husbands gone up to a year?”
“With lots of love and prayer, I’m sure.” Sophie pointed in the direction of the stage. “You can go back so you can see them. The kids and I will be fine here.”
They’d moved to a quiet area when the noise was too much for Ethan. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”
“In that case, would you mind taking him for a minute while I make a bottle?”
“Not at all.” Maisy gladly took the baby and cooed at him.
“So much for the glamorous lifestyle of the rich and famous, huh?” Laughing, Sophie dug out formula powder and water from her oversized purse which doubled as a diaper bag.
“Eh, it’s overrated anyway.” Ethan smiled at her as she gently bounced him in her arms. “Can I feed him?”
“Be my guest.” Sophie handed her the bottle. “Gracie, get back here.”
“I want to see Daddy again.” Across the way, Gracie whined and scowled.
“She’s tired,” Sophie said with a drained sigh. “I probably should have waited at the hotel, but you know…”
“Don’t worry about it. Gracie’s just a kid.” Looking down at the baby, a tidal wave of longing hit Maisy. One day, preferably sooner rather than later, she’d have a child of her own. “I’ve got Ethan if you want to take her closer.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Go. Scat before I push you there.”
Sophie laughed. “Bless you.”
The concert was over and Maisy sat in the living area of the tour bus, snuggled under the protection of Dominic’s arm. Jay and Adam mysteriously had plans arise, a certain ploy to give her and Dominic a few hours alone. Bryce was spending the night at the hotel with his family.
Dominic aimed the remote at the television and turned off the set after they’d concluded there was nothing on worthwhile to watch. “How’s your job? Any word on the grant?”
“Not yet.” She wouldn’t let on how worried she was, but the center had been denied the grant three times already, and she couldn’t see why this time would produce a different result. It was a last ditch effort as funds ran dry. Everyone was suffering from the economic downturn.
“Something will turn up. The kids need that program.” He gave her shoulders a squeeze.
Her heart constricted. Dominic understood how important the community center was. Dillonton’s hadn’t been built until three years ago and had a great deal more funding. Still, both centers offered respite and an abundance of services that Dominic and Roxy could have used as children and teenagers. “I keep praying about it.”
“Any news on the housing front?”
“I’ve decided to keep the apartment for a year and save more money.” Maybe by that time, we’ll be at a place where we can search together.
“Good plan.” Silence fell between them. Dominic moved his arm from around her and shifted in his spot. Likewise, Maisy turned to face him. The current between them electrified, and she knew what was coming. He hadn’t forgotten the “L’ word she’d said earlier.
“Did you mean it?” he asked, his eyes dark and heavy with emotion.
“Yes.”
“When did you know?”
“When I was six and you chewed out my brother on my behalf.”
A reserved chuckle barely made it off his lips. “I mean, for real. This time.”
“There is no this time.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember and that’s never changed.”
“I’ve been thinking.” Taking a deep breath, he reached for her hand. “We lost years, and I don’t want to waste more time. I love you and know I want to spend our lives together. Will you marry me when this tour is over?”
Her jaw dropped. A proposal was the last thing she’d expected tonight. Tiny drums beat at a frantic pace in her heart. Every fiber of her being wanted to say yes, but she couldn’t, not tonight. “I love you, Dom, but that’s a huge step for someone who didn’t want anything to do with me not even three months ago.”
The pain in his eyes pierced her. “That’s in the past, where it belongs. We’ve moved beyond that. I want the present, and then the future. With you. Isn’t that why you moved to Nashville?”
“Don’t misunderstand me. I’d love nothing more than to be your wife, but we’ve also been apart for three weeks. Any decision we make right now would be clouded by emotions wrought from absence.” Being the voice of reason hurt, especially when it contradicted everything her heart screamed.
He heaved a resigned sigh. “I hear what you’re saying, but my feelings won’t change once we’re back. I don’t want to lose you a second time.”
She cradled his face with both hands. “You won’t. When you’re home, if you still want to marry me, ask again. The answer will be yes."
A wry grin appeared. “How long do I have to wait once I’m home?”
“Two weeks.” The arbitrary number came out of the blue. It didn’t matter how long. She knew she wouldn’t have the strength to say no a second time. She dropped her hands. “Or as soon as you know you’re not asking just because we’ve been apart.”
“So the day I get back?”
Her heart tightened again, half tempted to tell him they could fly to Vegas and marry that same day. The only answer she could give was a smile.
His quick wink complemented his impish grin. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
A lump of adoration settled in her throat. Dominic was a one-in-a-million man, capable of so much forgiveness and grace. She didn’t know if she’d ever stop struggling with guilt for what she’d done, or ever cease to question that she’d made the right decision. But she’d never doubt they loved each other and belonged together for life.
Chapter 19
Dominic stared at the calendar, mystified that it was August already. Summer had flown by in a whirlwind of cities and venues. Each concert sold so well, seven dates were added to the end, which was great. Really, it was.
Except everyone had been drained and ready to get home. The last of their energy was spent giving their all to the performances, leaving them incapable of dealing with otherwise insignificant issues among them. He’d blown up at all of them over how wasteful they were—a pet-peeve bred from never having enough—but, exhausted, he’d overreacted over the half-full cans of soda constantly left out.
The confrontations increased as the final days wore on. Jay had snapped at Bryce for being on the phone non-stop, always making them late. Adam and Bryce had it out over the radio playing too early in the morning. Caroline accused them of not taking their careers seriously when she’d been on the receiving end of a practical joke.
Touring wasn’t for the weak of heart. Too much togetherness and stress, even for the best of friends. Fortunately, the mood lightened after the final show, and they had a good laugh at their own expense. The final leg home—from Des Moines after a morning radio appearance—passed quickly, with everyone in good spirits.
That was yesterday. Dominic had gotten in too late to see Maisy, who was pulling early mornings for the first weeks back to school. The center was available for middle-grade students and below whose parents worked too early to see them off to school. Their parents could drop them off and a staff member would see they got on the bus safely—Maisy was that staff member for August and September.
He’d have to wait until tonight to see her. Not ideal, but it would work in his favor, give him time to run a few errands. Specifically, to visit a jeweler. His first engagement with Maisy was never sealed with a ring. He’d been too broke, too proud to borrow the money for one, or even worse, have her pay for her own. This time would be different. He’d looked online and had chosen the perfect solitaire. For a small deposit, the store had set it aside for him.
After he took care of that, he’d stop at the dealership
. His truck was like an old friend but had started to show its age in the days before leaving for the tour, and it was time to upgrade her. Once he took care of that he’d drive out to the place where he planned to officially propose to Maisy, make sure everything was perfect.
Who needed sleep anyway? Regardless of how dog-tired he was, he knew he wouldn’t get rest today in anticipation of tonight. Maisy had been wrong. He hadn’t asked her to marry him because they’d been separated for weeks. He loved her, always had, and nothing could change that.
He went to the fridge, opened it, and was dismayed to find he had nothing to eat. Worse yet, a putrid smell drifted to his nostrils. Two-month-old leftovers—gross. He grabbed the garbage bin and cleared out everything that had expired. When he finished, all that remained was an unopened carton of orange juice, a bottle of ketchup and a jar of pickles he didn’t remember buying.
“I’ll pick up a few things on the way home,” he said to the air. “Not much since I won’t be living here much longer.”
The trash bag wasn’t full, but any more weight would tear the plastic. Dominic tightened the drawstrings and tied them off. He carried it down to the dumpster. Too bad there are not chutes here, like at Maisy’s place.
His phone’s ringtone greeted him when he walked back into the apartment. He grabbed the phone from the table and answered the call from Roxy. “Morning, Sis.”
“Oh good, I wasn’t sure you’d answer, or if you were home yet.”
“I got in last night.” He walked to the recliner and plopped down. “What’s up?”
“I need a huge favor, and I hate to ask, but I have no choice.” The crackling despair in her voice was evident.
“Are you okay?” The old chair creaked when he leaned forward. “What do you need? Name it and you know I’ll do what I can.”
“It’s for Nana, not me.” Her quick intake of breath traveled through the speaker. “Don’t worry, she’s fine.”
He suppressed a growl of frustration. Most of the time, Roxy got right to the point. Other times, like now, she took several bunny trails before reaching the reason for her call. “Just tell me what you need.”
“I need to pay her rent at Sumner’s for the last two months by Friday, or she’ll lose her spot.”
Blood rushed to his head. “What are you talking about? She’s lived there for years, and they’re going to evict her now? What happened to her subsidy?”
“He… the…” Roxy cleared her throat. “The funding she received is no longer available.”
“How much and what do I have to do?”
Roxy quoted a number. “I’ll have to send you the paperwork. It’s all in my email, so I can forward it to you and have you digitally fill it out and sign.”
He sighed but said a quick prayer of thanksgiving that he could afford Nana’s care now. Man, what would have happened if this came four months ago? “Send it now, and I’ll take care of it immediately.”
“I’m sorry, Dominic. I really hated asking you, but Jesse and I don’t have the money. I even tried taking out a loan, but the bank couldn’t help.”
His jaw locked and he gritted his teeth, taking a deep breath before he answered. “Don’t be sorry, and you should have come to me first instead of trying to get a loan. Nana was always there for us when Mom bailed. This is the least I can do.”
“Don’t be mad.” Roxy sounded near tears.
“I’m not, Rox.”
“Maybe not yet,” she whispered.
“Send the papers. Can I pay for the whole year, so we don’t have to worry again?” Frustrated that something, somewhere, had fallen through the cracks, he wanted the problem solved. He owed it to Nana.
“I think so.” He heard her clicking the keyboard. “Sent.”
“I’ll take care of it now.” His day was scheduled full, but everything else could wait. Nana wouldn’t lose her care on his watch.
“Thanks.” A muffled breath came through. “If you need to talk, I’ll be here.”
“I’m pretty sure I can figure out the forms, but I’ll call you if I need help.”
The call ended, and he trudged into the bedroom to dig his laptop from the still-packed bag. He laid it on the table, letting it start up while he grabbed another cup of coffee. The internet ran slow, and he sent Maisy a text while he waited—a simple Miss you, can’t wait till tonight.
Once his email loaded, he clicked on the message from Roxy. There were several attachments and he downloaded each of them. One by one, he read through first, then went back and typed in the necessary information. The final file was an accounting of all payments and fees dating back to Nana’s move to Sumner’s.
When he saw Vincent Rothchild’s name attached to every payment tendered until two months ago, he rubbed his eyes and looked again, sure he was seeing things. No, it was still there. What in the world? Mom had applied for government benefits to cover the cost. When she signed over the responsibility to Roxy two years ago, Roxy had done the same.
Why was there no record of any monies received except from Maisy’s dad? On the third look, he realized Mr. Rothchild had paid the rent in full every month. The phone conversation with Roxy played in his ears and her comments took new meaning. She’d known and hadn’t said anything.
Virulent chords of betrayal sucked away the last of his good mood, and outrage surged. He grabbed his phone and jumped up, debating whom to call first—Roxy or Maisy. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he drew a long breath through his mouth. He had to calm down before he talked to anyone, or he’d surely say something he’d regret.
Did Maisy know her father had been paying for Nana’s care? How could she not? But why would Mr. Rothchild pay for Nana, and for so long a time? He dialed Maisy’s number. He had to know.
“Hi,” she answered, a pleasant lilt to her voice.
Please, God, don’t let her know. “Hi.” His greeting came out a growl.
“Um, what’s wrong?”
“What do you know about your dad paying for Nana’s room and care at Sumner’s?” He held his breath, waiting.
“Oh.” She drew out the word for the space of a second.
“So you did know?” The accusation rang loud and clear, even to his own ears.
“I can explain.”
He paced the length of the room, stopping by the hideous couch and slammed his fist into the crushed velour. “I can’t imagine a single explanation that justifies the years of lies and deceit.”
“Can we talk about this in person? Please.” Her voice wavered near tears.
“Fine.” It would give him a chance to calm down, get a grip. Maybe.
“I leave at one. I’ll come by then, okay?”
“Fine.” Monosyllabic words were all he could manage after the sucker punch he’d received. His gut ached and his lungs were vacant of air.
“I’ll see you then.” She paused a moment. “I love you.”
He swallowed hard. Say the words, Dominic. Tell her you love her. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. It was so hard to say them while incensed, but it was only because he loved her that the deceit stung so badly. “Bye, Maisy.”
Overcome with restless energy, Dominic found it impossible to be productive. His entire plan for the day was changed with a single revelation. He certainly wasn’t going to buy an engagement ring while mad at the intended receiver of the gift.
A long, irritable groan filled the room, and Dominic’s stomach churned. He was indebted to the one person in this world whom he disliked the most—the very person responsible for tearing apart him and Maisy. Not for long, he determined. He’d tally every last cent Mr. Rothchild had paid on Nana’s behalf and repay every bit.
After an hour of stewing in his apartment, he came to the conclusion he had to leave before he lost his mind. He grabbed his keys and drove to the dealership Bryce had recommended. His truck looked even worse next to the brand new models, but he couldn’t complain. Back in high school, he’d bought it for two hundred bucks, and had put minim
al money into it since, beyond normal wear and tear. If he thought he could get another year out of it, he wouldn’t even think about getting a new one.
He pulled out the business card Bryce had given him, with the name of a trusted salesman and went inside.
Several men, some in suits, some in dress pants and polo shirts, flocked to him. A balding, fiftyish man reached him first. “How can I help you today?”
Dominic looked at the man, didn’t get a good vibe. “Is Pete in?”
“Yes, but he’s with a customer. I’ll be happy to help until he’s finished.”
Yeah, and hijack the sale while you’re at it. Don’t think so, buddy. “Thanks, but I’ll wait.”
“Sure.” The salesman didn’t hide his consternation when he flippantly waved to a row of plastic chairs. “Have a seat. Who can I tell him is waiting?”
“Dominic Sellers.” He didn’t add he’d yet to meet Pete, lest the salesman get any ideas. Best to let him think he’d previously talked to the requested man.
Pete approached him within minutes. He appeared to be in his forties, possible early fifties. His thinning hair was neatly combed but not slicked. For a few seconds, he looked at Dominic with squinted eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m usually good at remembering people, but I can’t recollect speaking with you. My apologies.”
“No need.” Dominic shook hands with him, appreciating the honesty. Instinct told him the other man would have floundered through pretending to remember him. “We haven’t met, but a friend referred me to you.”
“That’s a relief.” Pete chuckled and his oversized belly shook. “I thought I was getting old. Who referred you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
The man’s lack of pretense put Dominic at ease. No wonder Bryce recommended him. “Bryce Landry.”
Pete broke out in a wide smile. “One of my best customers. How’s the baby? Ethan, right?”
“Yes, and he’s doing well.”
“Good, good. Met the little fellow when they came to trade in Mrs. Sophie’s car, and he’s cute as a button. Reminds me of my newest grandson.” He coughed. “But I’m sure you’re not here to talk about babies. What are you looking for?”
