by Donna Fasano
She nodded. "That one was the hardest to break."
Gazing down at her fingers in his, she went on, "It's hard to command professional respect with your fingers in your mouth. Nail biting isn't a very ladylike habit."
"I suppose not," he said. "But there's nothing about you now that isn't ladylike."
His eyes traveled down the length of her as he spoke and Savanna felt her face flame. She tightened her grip on the chair. If she let go now she was afraid she just might sink to the floor.
When his gaze lifted to hers, he asked, "How have you been?"
"Fine," she answered, her voice dry and grating. "And yourself?"
"I've survived."
"Did you marry?" As soon as the question passed her lips she felt the urge to bite off her tongue. She was mortified. What had compelled her to delve so intimately into his personal life? Because you're dying to know, came the simple answer.
"No."
His curt response offered no explanation and she didn't have the guts to pursue the subject further.
"I was expecting your father," she said in a rush. The shadow that crossed his face at the mention of Daniel didn't register, so intent was she to get away from the topic of marriage. She didn't want to have to admit to Danny the lonely state of her own personal life.
"When Mrs. Hutchinson called to say that Daniel was coming to welcome me back to Fulton," she continued, "I was so pleased that I'd get the chance to catch up on all the news of your family. I haven't heard a thing in all these years and I couldn't wait to talk to him."
"The folks in town call me Daniel now." His harsh tone stopped her monologue like a speeding car slamming into a brick wall.
Emotions flashed across his face so quickly that Savanna couldn't read them fast enough. Pain, sadness, irritation, until at last his features were once again so controlled she couldn't discern what he was feeling.
"They do?" Her voice was faint as she asked the question because, once again, she couldn't fathom what she'd said to prompt that look back to his face.
He shifted his weight and plunged one hand deep into his trouser pocket as he nodded. "From the first day I took over Dad's practice, everyone in town insisted on calling me Daniel."
"So Mrs. Hutchinson was talking about you," Savanna said. In that instant she remembered Miz Ida had also said Daniel. Savanna suspected the lovable old snoop had been asking if Savanna had seen Danny, not his father.
"Daniel." She tried out the name. "I don't know that I'll remember, but I promise to give it my best shot."
Her mind quickly assembled the information he'd given her and she asked, "You're here for the Fulton Welcoming Committee?"
He nodded solemnly. "I guess you could say I've taken over for my father in more ways than one."
"Your dad's retired, then?" She shook her head, smiling. "I never thought the day would come when he'd give up his law practice."
"No."
The tension in his voice as he said that single word made the smile fade from her lips. A dreadful feeling began to churn in her stomach as she stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate.
When he spoke his voice was feather soft. "You really don't know, do you?"
His question was all it took. Tears gathered in her eyes as she realized that Daniel Walsh wasn't sharing a law office with his son, that he hadn't retired to some hot, southern climate as her own parents had done. The deep sadness in Daniel's eyes told her clearly that his father had passed away and the news literally shook her.
"I'm so sorry." She wanted to say more, but her voice cracked like old glass.
Daniel pried her fingers from the chair and, pulling it out from under the table, guided her to sit down. She didn't fight him; she didn't even argue.
He knelt down in front of her and took her hands in his. His palms felt warm against her icy fingers. She tried to focus on his thumb as it slowly passed over the peaks and valleys of the knuckles of her right hand.
She needed to get control of herself so that she could tell him how much she'd loved his father.
A new thought brought a wave of fresh panic and she lifted her face to look at Danny. "Your mother?" she asked.
"She's fine," he assured her. "She's moved to Richmond to be with my sister."
Savanna exhaled audibly, relief bringing a small smile to her lips. Then she pulled one hand from his grasp to swipe at a damp wisp of her hair that was tickling her cheek. Gazing at Danny, she saw caring and concern. Every trace of hardness was gone from his eyes. Here was the man of her teenage dreams. Here was the Danny Walsh she remembered.
"I really am sorry about your father," she said. "How did it happen? And... and when?"
She felt him pull away from her, physically and emotionally. He stood and her eyes followed his movement.
"Heart attack," he informed her. "This June will be five years."
Five years! She could see by the look on his face that he was wondering how it could be that she hadn't heard the news.
"Danny." She stopped, then started again. "Daniel, there's no excuse for my not having sent your mother my condolences."
"You're right," he remarked tightly, "there's not."
"Please, let me at least try to explain," she implored. "When I first left Fulton my relationship with my parents fell completely apart. At first I was scared to death to call them. Then, when I did call, Mom refused to speak to me. It took us months to form some semblance of what could be called a relationship." Savanna stopped and swallowed hard at the painful memories of that terrible time. "It may sound hard to believe, but we never discussed what happened." She hesitated before clarifying, "My running away, I mean. To this day, we never talk about Fulton. Or your parents. Or you." She moistened her dry lips. "It's just easier for us this way. I'm sorry I didn't know about your father."
As he listened to her excuse his dark eyes began to freeze and now they looked like cold chips of onyx glittering with bitterness.
"You never thought to ask?"
His question was like a splash of freezing water. Her eyes widened and she sat up straight. He only frowned at her, waiting for an answer.
"I just told you..." Her urge to explain was engulfed in a flame of anger. "Danny, I loved your parents! I loved them just as much as I love my own."
"But not enough to ask how they were getting on. Not enough to let them know how you were. Or where you were." Every muscle in his body was tense. "You didn't love them enough, did you, Savanna? In the end you only loved yourself."
She sat there silent, staring up at his taut face. Swallowing around the tightness in her throat, she said, "I understand your anger."
He looked away. He raised a hand and rubbed it back and forth across his jaw. When he looked at her again, his emotions were firmly under control.
"I'm not angry with you, Savanna," he said. After sighing, loud and heavy, he continued, "I guess I shouldn't have come." He raked his fingers through his hair. "Oh, hell, I meant for this to be so different. I just wanted to...I wanted..." His voice trailed off in obvious frustration.
Savanna stood. "What did you want?" Her query was soft as a whisper.
He stepped back. Whether it was involuntary or a conscious act, she couldn't tell.
His quick smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he shrugged. "To see how you were, of course. That's all."
At that moment making things friendly and comfortable again seemed all important for some reason. Savanna crossed the space between them and placed her hand on his forearm.
"Please sit down," she said. "We'll have a cup of tea or something and catch up. A lot of years have gone by."
He took another step back and her hand fell to her side. "I really can't," he said, looking at his wristwatch. "I've stayed too long as it is. I'm due at the office."
"I see."
He flashed her another of those half smiles. "I haven't done a very good job of it, but welcome to Fulton. I'm sure I'll see you around town." He turned and pushed his way out the back
door.
Savanna raised her hand and called goodbye, but she was sure he hadn't heard. She looked down and saw Mrs. Hutchinson's chocolate cake on the kitchen table. Marring the smooth icing, she swiped her finger along the side of the cake. As the fudge frosting melted in her mouth, she shook her head, certain now that straightening out the mess she'd made six years ago was going to be more difficult than she'd first imagined.
~ ~ ~
Six weeks of total neglect had allowed the weeds to take over of the flower beds. Savanna found a pair of garden gloves and started pulling. The episode with Danny…no, he went by Daniel now, she'd have to remember. The incident had left her emotionally drained and she found the mundane task of weeding somewhat restful.
"Hey, there, neighbor."
Savanna twisted around and saw a woman standing on the other side of the hedgerow.
"Hi," Savanna called. She stood and brushed the dirt from the knees of her jeans. As she moved closer, she recognized her high school classmate.
"Sheila?" she asked, incredulous. "Sheila Miller?"
Sheila grinned. "It's Thompson now."
Savanna laughed delightedly. "You married Jim! I knew you two were made for each other. I just didn't think he'd ever get up the nerve to ask you out."
Chuckling, Sheila admitted, "He didn't. I finally had to ask him."
"You're kidding?"
"Nope. Why don't you take a break and come in for a glass of juice?"
"I'd love something cold," Savanna said. She tugged off her gardening gloves as she rounded the hedge.
"Jimmy, you come down out of that tree before you break your neck!" Sheila looked up and called out to the youngster hanging from the branch, "I want you to find your sister. I haven't seen her in the past few minutes and that always spells trouble."
Freckle-faced Jimmy dropped down from the oak tree and made a rude noise that startled Savanna.
"Jimmy," his mother threatened.
"I'm going," he relented and stalked off toward the backyard.
"Come on in," Sheila said, rubbing a hand over her pregnant belly.
"Congratulations," Savanna said, glancing down at her friend's stomach. "This will be your third?"
Sheila nodded. Once they were inside the kitchen, she turned to open the cabinet for glasses. "You just met Jimmy, the monkey in the tree. He's five. Amanda's three and she's a terror. I have to keep my eye on that child every minute."
She caught sight of her children playing in the backyard; then she filled the glasses with juice from the refrigerator and handed one of them to Savanna. "It's so good to see you," she said, strategically positioning herself so she could enjoy a chat and keep an eye on her kids. "Tell me how you've been."
Savanna filled Sheila in on her comings and goings of the past six years. When she finished, Savanna noticed that her friend's face had an almost wistful expression.
"You know," Sheila said, "I've made marriage and family my life's work. But I do have to admit…" her voice became soft, "…there are times when I wish that I'd had the courage to run off and seek my fortune like you did."
"Oh, Sheila, don't say that."
"I mean it," she insisted. "Look at you, Savanna. You have a career. You're independent. You go where you please, when you please. No diapers, no spilled milk, no sticky fingerprints. Probably not a single mismatched sock." She sighed as though that thought alone was heaven. "But you were always different. You had something. You took a chance at grabbing that golden star," Sheila went on. "You reached, and it paid off."
"But, Sheila," Savanna said, "look around you. You have a husband, a family, a home. All the things that are important in life." The polite statement was meant as encouragement, but Savanna was surprised that the words struck such an emotional chord in her.
Sheila grinned. "Someday soon, when I'm climbing the walls and ready to tear my hair out, I just might come looking for you for some support."
"Anytime," Savanna said.
"I really meant it, though, when I said you always had something special. I don't know what it was." Sheila searched for words "An inner strength or something. Something that none of the rest of us had."
"Stop, please." She fanned her hands in the air. "You're embarrassing me. Just because I haven't been back to town for a while doesn't mean you have to pile on the compliments." Savanna ran her fingers over the condensation that had collected on the outside of her glass. "I didn't have, and don't have anything, more than you do." Savanna thought of the children playing in the yard, the man who would arrive home in time for dinner. "In fact, I'm the one who's missing…"
"But you do," Sheila insisted. "You always did. Daniel saw it."
Savanna's gaze shot back to Sheila at the mention of Daniel. A short, but tense silence separated the two women.
"I'm sorry, Savanna." Sheila's eyes seemed to frantically search for signs of injury her mention of the past might have triggered before she groaned. "I wish I'd learn when to keep my mouth shut."
"It's all right," Savanna assured her. "It's okay to talk about Daniel. He's part of my past, part of who I am."
Savanna was hit by a twinge of discovery in the truthfulness of her comment. But she was kept from exploring it further by Sheila's relieved sigh.
"I'm so happy to hear you say that." Sheila smiled. "Because this is a small town and you're bound to run into him."
"Oh, I already have." Savanna swallowed a sip of apple juice. "He stopped over this morning bearing tidings of welcome and a delicious chocolate cake."
Savanna could tell by the curiosity clearly written on Sheila's face that the woman was dying to know more but was too polite to ask.
Shaking her head, Savanna told the truth. "It didn't go well."
"No?" Sheila's eyebrows perked up and she leaned forward.
Shaking her head dismally, Savanna reclined against the chair back and took a moment before explaining. "He was so...different. I mean, I guess I should have expected him to be angry. But I suppose I thought he would have gotten over the brunt of it by now."
"Have you?"
The question was formidable. And unexpected. Savanna's first instinct was to become defensive, to declare that, of course, she was completely over any feelings she had for Daniel Walsh, that she'd worked through all the guilt and regret she felt about having run away. But the whole point of this trip was to face the unfinished business she'd left behind in Fulton. The whole point was to confront the guilt and pain.
"I don't know," she finally admitted. "I can honestly say I was able to put it off for a very long time." Reluctant to elaborate further about her own feelings at the moment, Savanna reverted to her original topic. Daniel. "He seemed so angry with me. But it was more than just his anger, Sheila. When I saw him, he was so... I don't know, tightly controlled. Every time he started to show an emotion, he'd cut it off. Right to the quick.” She reached for her glass, but didn't take a drink. "He complimented me on how I'd changed, yet he was hardly able to smile. We talked about his father, and he didn't show a bit of the grief I know he must feel."
Sheila grinned. "That pretty much sounds like the Daniel Walsh I've always known. Always in complete control. Rather moody. Sometimes downright crotchety." Growling, she added, "A regular old grizzly bear."
Taking a moment to absorb the statement, Savanna sat quiet. Finally she frowned and softly said, "But that isn't right. Danny was never like that."
"What do you mean?" Sheila asked, her smile fading. "Of course he was." She shrugged. "Still is."
"You've got to remember," Savanna said. "Don't you recall that graduation party my mom had for all of us? Remember how Danny…" she caught herself "…Daniel was the hit of the party? He made everyone laugh, lip syncing to the records, and then making up new lyrics to the songs."
Sheila's mouth drew into a broad smile. "I do remember. He was hysterical."
"And he built that pyramid of plastic cups five feet high..."
Sheila's humor flooded into her words as she sa
id, "And he goaded my Jim into crowning the thing with his graduation cap. The tassel unbalanced everything." Sheila was laughing openly now. "And cups flew in every direction. Your mom was furious!"
Savanna laughed so hard her eyes watered. "It was the first time I ever saw Jim in the limelight."
"Oh, my." Sheila sighed. "I'd forgotten all about that."
After taking a drink, Savanna stared off into the corner of the room. "So what happened?" Her question was contemplative, addressed more to herself than to the woman standing across the kitchen.
"To Daniel, you mean?" Sheila shrugged. "You have to admit, he's had some rough turns in his life." Then she stammered, "I mean...I wasn't implying... I didn't mean…"
"It's okay." Savanna slid both hands up and down her thighs. "I'm all grown-up. I can take responsibility for my actions." She gave a comical grimace. "I may not want to, but I will."
"I think it was more than just your leaving," Sheila offered. "When Mr. Walsh died, the folks in town just assumed Daniel would take his father's place. He was put under a tremendous amount of pressure. Then his sister got sick and Mrs. Walsh decided to move to Richmond."
"Celia's sick?"
"Breast cancer." Sheila gave a sad nod.
"Oh, no."
"Thank the Lord, she's in full remission right now." Sheila sighed. "Or, at least, that's what I've heard. But now Daniel's dealing with this trouble at the hospital..."
"Trouble?" Savanna asked, a frown creasing her forehead.
"Oh, it's a money thing. Daniel's on the board of directors. Jim's the administrator at the hospital, and he says that it's real bad. Everyone is racking their brains over what to do." Absently, Sheila rubbed the palm of her hand over her stomach. "So you see, there are lots of reasons for the change in Daniel."
"I feel awful that life has been so hard for him," Savanna said. "Maybe if I'd have stayed…"
"Now don't go thinking like that. You can't change the past."
"I know that," Savanna said, leaning closer. "But hasn't he had any... good times? Like... I don't know... did he ever have a woman in his life?"
Sheila thought a moment. "Not that I know of. I'm friends with several of the nurses at the hospital and they're all gaga over him. But Daniel is downright obsessed with his work." She hesitated a moment and then lowered her voice conspiratorially as she added, "I believe he simply doesn't trust women."
