by Wade, Becky
2) Kathleen’s driven and determined and ambitious, exactly like my father was. Work is the thing that she cares about most. I know from experience that it’s rough to care about someone who cares more about their job than they do about you.
3) She’s independent, exactly like Sylvie. Again, I know from experience that it’s no good to care about someone who’s willing to leave you behind to chase their own dreams.
I’ve just read back over the above. The last two comparisons I made aren’t completely fair to Kathleen. She’s much kinder than my father was. She’s much less selfish than Sylvie was.
I’m still praying that God will take away my feelings for Kathleen. But I’m no longer praying that He’ll take Kathleen away.
I couldn’t stand it if she left.
Garner’s Journal Entry
My mom insisted that Willow and Nora and I move into Bradfordwood. Since I was a kid, I’ve known that I’d one day live at Bradfordwood and one day become the CEO of Bradford Shipping. I just never expected either of those things to happen so soon.
Glenna and I tried to convince Mom to stay at Bradfordwood, but she was determined to move into a place less filled with memories of Dad, a smaller place. Bradfordwood sits on two hundred acres. Almost every foot of the house’s ten thousand square feet needs renovation that we can’t afford at this point. The responsibility of all of that was no longer something my mom wanted to deal with, so she’s now in a brand-new row house in Merryweather and the girls and I are here, at Bradfordwood.
Whenever Willow and Nora have stayed here over the years, they’ve slept in the pink guest bedroom. That’s where they’re still sleeping, even though there are seven bedrooms and I told them they could each take their pick. I think they’re a little scared of this big, old-fashioned brick house.
Willow asked, now that we’ve moved into Grandma’s house, if Mommy’s going to come back to live with us. Even though I could see resignation in her face when she asked the question, I could also see hope. She understood that it was probably impossible. Even so, my little realist was wishing against all odds that Robin would return.
I had to tell her that no, Mommy isn’t coming back. I assured her that she could count on me, that I wasn’t going anywhere, and that I loved her.
I’m often aware, though, that I’m just as susceptible to death as Robin. What if something happens to me? An accident or a terminal illness?
Should God let me live a long life, and I hope He does for Willow and Nora’s sake, then I’ll spend it taking care of them. My future is mapped out.
I’m not a man who’s free. My birthright and my past decisions have made sure of that. Willow, Nora, Glenna, my mom, and the people at Bradford Shipping are depending on me and so I try hard not to let selfish desires worm their way into my life.
But I have come to want one selfish thing, despite all my best efforts.
I want Kathleen. It’s been two months since she bribed me with chocolate cake.
I think about her all the time. At work. At home.
My track record with women is terrible. Loving her would probably doom either her or me. But still, I want her.
Note from Sylvie Left in Her Neighbor’s Mailbox
Cherie,
I’ve decided to take a spontaneous holiday to America! I miss tacos, and the green mountains of Washington, and American men. I should be gone for no more than a week and a half. Will you be so kind as to collect my mail and water my flowers while I’m away?
I’m looking forward to seeing my daughter and her handsome papa.
I’ll bring a bag of Tootsie Rolls back for you!
XO XO, Sylvie
CHAPTER
Fourteen
Unsent Letter from Kathleen to Garner
I’m in love with you.
I am.
This is totally new for me, Garner. With the boyfriends I’ve had in the past, we started with attraction and then moved on to dating and then stalled out there, long before love ever hit.
With you, we started with a business relationship that got tangled up with attraction and then moved on to friendship and now, here I am, in love with you. I’m amazed that I can love someone I’m not dating and haven’t even kissed (except once).
I love how you are with your daughters. I love your sad, solitary heart. I love your patience and your intelligence and your goodness.
You’ve certainly never told me that you care for me. But often, I think I can see how you feel about me in your eyes, and then I’m filled with crazy, probably foolish, hope.
I’m not going to be the one to make a move, Garner. No how. No way. I already made the first move and it turned into a debacle.
So, please. Make a move on me. At your earliest convenience.
Letter from Kathleen to Her Father, Dillon
Daddy,
I’m desperate to share this with someone, but it feels too new and private even to share with Rose at the moment, so I’m going to tell you because I know you’ll keep this just between us, same as when I broke Mom’s lamp when I was six. Remember? You hugged me and dried my tears and said you’d tell her you bumped it over. Then you cleaned up the mess. As you carried the last of the broken pieces to the trash, you winked at me and said we’d keep this just between us.
It’s a Monday, which means I hadn’t seen Garner since Friday. I’m always the first one to arrive at work on Monday mornings because I’m so eager to see him again after the weekend. I waited and waited for him to arrive, but he didn’t. Finally, someone mentioned he was out of the office on business. I felt like a kid who’d arrived at Disneyland only to be told the park was closed for the day.
As I was leaving work this evening, riding down in the elevator alone and depressed, the doors opened on the floor below mine. And there he was. Garner. He grinned at me and stepped into the elevator. The doors slid closed.
“Did I finally stay at work as late as you?” he asked.
I mumbled in the affirmative. It’s hard to be witty when happiness is shooting through you like rockets.
“Staying as late as you is a first,” he said.
“I’m trying to get a life,” I told him. Inside joke. Which I suddenly worried wasn’t very funny. But, thank you Lord, he chuckled and we kept staring at each other. Still smiling.
Then the humor began to fade from his face.
And then! Then he kissed me.
I barely had time to adjust, to kiss him back, before the elevator binged to signal that we’d reached the lobby.
We stepped apart quickly and walked side by side through the first floor of Bradford Shipping without glancing at each other once. I mostly looked down because I didn’t want anyone, including him, to see my blush, which felt about as hot as the Arabian Peninsula. I was both thrilled and terrified that he’d find a reason to regret the kiss.
When we reached the parking lot, we faced each other. March wind that smelled like the start of spring raked through my hair. Light rain fell over us, softer than down, quieter than air.
I had to bite my lip to keep from saying something completely ill-advised such as, “I love you!” or “Please, please don’t hurt me.” Hope built within me painfully while I waited for him to speak.
“Should I leave a note of apology on your desk tomorrow morning?” he asked. He was teasing, but there was also a flicker of uncertainty in his expression. I realized that he was worried that he’d overstepped.
“No,” I told him. “I hope you plan to repeat what just happened many more times. I’ll only require a note of apology if you plan to stop. Not if you plan to continue.”
Relief softened his jaw. “I plan to continue.”
“Good,” I said.
“Good,” he said.
Then we nodded and walked in separate directions to our cars.
He finally made a move!!!!
If you could see me, you’d see that my hands are shaking a little and that I’m alight with joy. I’m a career girl who doesn’t fall
for men!
At least, that’s who I used to be.
I didn’t know until now what a powerful force love is. It was easy to scoff at people who married, who built their life around their family . . . until now. Until him.
Now everything I thought I knew and thought I wanted is changing beneath my feet like earth furrowed by an earthquake.
I love you so much, Daddy.
I miss you.
Thank you for keeping this just between us.
Kathleen
p.s. I had so much to tell you that I hope you’ll understand why I didn’t write on a postcard, as per our usual tradition.
CHAPTER
Fifteen
Garner’s Journal Entry
I resisted Kathleen for as long as I could. For months I’ve been bolting down my tenderness for her. Forcing my muscles not to move or act in response to it.
I don’t even know if she realizes that her gaze dropped to my lips in the elevator this evening. But when it did, that was it. Heat flashed through me and no bolt was strong enough to stop me.
I kissed her and I’m not sorry. But I am worried.
My reasons for avoiding relationships since Robin’s death are right. They’re valid. It’s with deep reservations that I set those reasons to the side to make just enough room for something that matters to me even more.
Kathleen.
Is there a chance that things might end well for us? A lot of people have long, happy relationships. My parents, my grandparents on both sides, aunts and uncles, friends.
Neither of my past relationships took me to a destination I wanted so it’s difficult for me to think that this one could. But there has to be a chance that Kathleen will stay safe and healthy. That I’ll be able to add her into my life and my girls’ lives without doing damage to us all. That things between Kathleen and I might work out.
There has to be a chance. Right?
Phone Conversation between Kathleen and Garner
KATHLEEN: How long have we been talking?
GARNER: An hour and . . . forty-five minutes. It’s late. We should probably hang up so we can get some sleep.
KATHLEEN: Probably.
GARNER: I don’t want to say good night.
KATHLEEN: Me neither. Let’s talk for five more minutes.
Handwritten Note Left on Kathleen’s Desk
May I take you to dinner some night soon? I’m willing to bribe you into going out with me with your favorite dessert, if necessary.
—Garner
Handwritten Note Left on Garner’s Desk
Yes to dinner. Let me know what works with your family’s schedule and we’ll go then.
My favorite dessert is a hot fudge sundae with chopped peanuts. Put that in your back pocket and save for future reference.
—Kathleen
CHAPTER
Sixteen
Phone Message from Margaret to Her Daughter, Kathleen
Darling, Dorothy said she heard that Garner Bradford has a new girlfriend. I’m so glad that he’s found someone. Now you and I don’t have to worry about him settling his unwanted attentions on you.
I’ve never trusted men with light eyes.
Call me and we’ll schedule brunch at the country club.
Phone Conversation between Kathleen and Garner
KATHLEEN: . . . so, you see, a job with Estée Lauder has always been my big dream.
GARNER: I’m surprised they haven’t hired you.
KATHLEEN: Thank you for saying that.
GARNER: Why do you think that working for that particular company has always been your big dream?
KATHLEEN: When I did that book report on Estée Lauder that I told you about, her story just . . . captured me.
GARNER: Why, though?
KATHLEEN: I’m not sure. Does it matter?
GARNER: It matters to me.
KATHLEEN: It does?
GARNER: I want to understand you. So quit stalling and answer my question. What was it about Estée Lauder that captured you?
KATHLEEN: The fact that she was both female and a hugely successful business person.
GARNER: And?
KATHLEEN: And I was a girl with a very overprotective mother. I was desperate for freedom. It seemed to me that if I could be like Estée, then I could be free.
GARNER: Ah.
KATHLEEN: I haven’t thought this through quite this way before.
GARNER: It sounds to me like freedom is the thing you really want, Kathleen. That’s your big dream. Do you think that’s what’s underneath your desire to work for Lauder?
KATHLEEN: Maybe.
GARNER: I have two kids and a company and an estate to take care of.
KATHLEEN: Yes.
GARNER: From my perspective, you are free.
KATHLEEN: I . . .
GARNER: Kathleen?
KATHLEEN: . . . I haven’t ever felt free.
GARNER: Maybe it’s time to start.
Unsent Letter from Kathleen to Garner
Garner,
We just got off the phone fifteen minutes ago after another of our long nightly phone conversations. I love our nightly phone conversations. I’m thankful to your girls for going to sleep at eight o’clock so that we can have them. I’m raising my mug of herbal tea to Willow and Nora!
It’s one in the morning, yet I’m wide awake.
What you said to me earlier, about how, from your perspective, I’m free . . . it hit me like a freight train.
Goodness knows that God has had plenty of chances to give me a job at Estée Lauder if He’d wanted to. You told me once that you yourself prayed for quite some time that I’d find another job in another place. We were both praying for the same thing! But God said no to my prayers and yours.
It occurs to me, Garner, that I’m never going to get the position at Estée Lauder that I’ve wanted since the fourth grade.
Am I?
I’m sorry that I’m not. But I can see that you might be right. Perhaps I don’t need a job at Estée Lauder to achieve the thing I’ve always truly wanted most. It could be that my definition of success has been far too narrow. It could be that the time has come to set that old definition aside.
I’m an independent woman. I support myself. I contribute at the office. I’m no longer under my mother’s control.
I’m free.
I’ve been striving so hard for so long, like a fish in a net, that I failed to stop and look around and realize I’m no longer trapped by the net. And haven’t been for some time.
I’m free.
What’s more, I’m content. That’s been hard for me to say, to feel, in the past.
Actually, I’m more than content. I feel as though I’m one of the most fortunate women in the world because I’m crazy about you and you’re crazy about me. (You’re never going to see this so I can put words in your mouth.) Elation surges through me every time I make you smile. It’s a small, elite, precious club to belong to—People Who Make Garner Happy. But by some miracle, I’ve become a part of it.
Love,
Kathleen
p.s. I’m still not tired.
p.s.s. I’m still content.
Phone Conversation between Kathleen and Her Friend Rose
ROSE: Take deep breaths and calm down and tell me what happened. Breathe. Breathe. Are you breathing?
KATHLEEN: I’m breathing.
ROSE: Now start over at the beginning. Slowly.
KATHLEEN: You knew that Garner invited me to his house for dinner tonight, didn’t you?
ROSE: I did.
KATHLEEN: We’ve only been together for a week, but in that time, we’ve talked for hours every night. We’ve eaten lunch together every day at work. We’ve gone out to dinner once. And we’ve kissed, um, lots. The kisses have been . . .
ROSE: Amazing?
KATHLEEN: Yes. He’s amazing. And it was a big deal that he invited me to his house to have dinner with his daughters. It’s not like we were going to tell them that we’re dating or
anything like that, but still, it was a big deal. We were just starting to brown the meat to make sloppy joes and Willow was standing on a chair next to me because she wanted to help and everything was pretty much perfect, when the doorbell rang.
ROSE: And it was someone named Sylvie?
KATHLEEN: Yes. Sylvie is Willow’s biological mother. When Garner led Sylvie into the kitchen, I just stood there frozen with a wooden spoon in my hand. Garner turned completely white and looked stricken. Not that Sylvie noticed. She swept Willow up and kissed her and then sat cross-legged on the floor and asked all of us enthusiastic questions. I answered for a while but the situation was just too weird. I could tell that I needed to leave so that Garner and the girls could deal with Sylvie’s arrival. So that’s what I did. And now they’re probably eating sloppy joes. And I’m at home, having a heart attack.
ROSE: Huh. So this isn’t the best turn of events.
KATHLEEN: No. Sylvie’s incredibly beautiful, Rose. She’s French and fabulous, and Garner’s fabulous, too, and I’m scared that Sylvie will decide she wants him back.
ROSE: Even if she does, why would he take her back?
KATHLEEN: Because she was his first love. He’s my first love, but she’s his and first love is a mighty force. Plus, they have a child together.
ROSE: Garner’s moved on from Sylvie.
KATHLEEN: I’m not sure that he has.
ROSE: Hasn’t he?
KATHLEEN: I don’t know. What I do know is that our relationship—mine and Garner’s—is very, very new. If we were an established couple, I might feel differently. But as it is, I’m terrified that I’m going to lose him.
