by Peggy Webb
"You're wonderful, Jenny," Daniel said. "Simply wonderful"
"That's my girl," Jake said, smiling and hugging Jenny.
Jenny's mother beamed, adding her praise.
Sitting on a cold marble bench on the opposite side of the hallway, Claire couldn't help but feel envy. Once, Daniel had looked at her in the way he now gazed at Jenny. Once, she'd deserved those looks.
Sighing, she reached into her purse for a cigarette. Jenny wasn't half bad. As a matter of fact, Claire felt a grudging admiration for her. If she lost, at least she'd have the satisfaction of knowing that her children were with a mother who loved them.
A flurry of activity at the north end of the courthouse caught her attention. The children's guardian ad litem was taking them to the judge's chambers. The matter could not be resolved in their best interests until Megan and Patrick were heard.
The cigarette dangled from Claire's hand as she strained her eyes for a glimpse of her children. As if invisible strings were pulling her, Megan turned. She lagged behind Margaret Case and stared openmouthed at Claire.
Claire half rose from her seat.
"Come along, Megan," Margaret Case said.
Megan stood on one foot and rubbed the back of her left toe against her right leg. Then she lifted a small hand and waved.
Her hands shaking, Claire sank back onto the bench.
Daniel hadn't missed a single moment of the exchange between his ex-wife and his daughter. He thought of the years of bitterness and estrangement with his own father; he thought of all the years and all the hurt.
Was he right to try to keep Claire away from the children?
Claire looked up and caught him staring.
"I really do love them, Daniel," she said quietly.
He almost believed her. The cavernous hall echoed with silence.
"Why don't I get coffee for everybody while we wait?" he said.
For the first time since the hearing, Claire smiled at him.
o0o
Over the years, Judge Grace Norman had grown accustomed to these hearings, but she didn't like them. There was nothing to like about presiding over the division of a family in a court of law.
She smiled warmly at the two children sitting on the couch in her chambers. Patrick smiled back, but Megan gave her a look that said "I'm reserving judgment."
"Well, now ... Would you like something to drink?"
"We're not thirsty." Megan spoke for both of them. She caught her brother's hand and gave Grace a proud, defiant look. Only the most discerning eye could see the slight tremble in her bottom lip.
Wishing for the wisdom of Solomon but settling for the wisdom of experience, Judge Grace Norman began task of determining the future of three adults and two children.
o0o
Later the judge looked at the solemn faces of the adults whose future rested with her.
"It is the opinion of this court that the children's best interests will not be served by removing them from the custody of their father."
Daniel Sullivan was not the emotional type. She'd known there would be no outbursts from him. But the look of joy on his face as he embraced his fiancée was one the judge would not soon forget.
"However, it is my belief that the natural mother is sufficiently penitent of her earlier actions and shows sufficient love for her children so that their interests will be served by allowing her generous visitation rights."
Claire Montague Sullivan's mascara was streaked to her chin, and she hadn't even bothered to wipe it away. Judge Norman thought that was a good sign.
"In the matter of Jenny Love-Townsend, I have this to say. If every child could have a mother like her, the world would be a better place.”
Chapter Fourteen
The west wing of the Sullivan mansion was awash with silk petticoats and satin dresses, and in the bedlam, Gwendolyn reigned supreme.
She ushered Sarah to a chair and ordered her to stay there.
"I feel so foolish," Sarah said. "My own daughter's wedding, and I can't find my right hand with my left."
"I never saw a mother of the bride yet who wasn't a basket case." She gave Victoria the eye. "And that goes for sisters too."
"Who, me?" Victoria had her bridesmaid veil on backward.
"Yes, you." Gwendolyn sucked in her stomach and looked into the mirror.
"Lord, I look like a bale of cotton."
"Nonsense," Sarah said. "You're statuesque, Gwendolyn, and with that hat you look like royalty."
"Daniel gave it to me." She arranged the frivolous concoction of tulle and lace on her curls. She'd let them go gray for the wedding. "He said he was scared I'd wear my cowboy hat if he didn't get me a new one."
"I dreamed of many things for Jenny, but I never thought I'd see this day."
"That's because you couldn't know there was a Daniel Sullivan in the world. He's a very special man." Gwendolyn readjusted her hat. "And if anybody here says different, I'm going to black their eyes."
"What do you suppose is keeping Jenny?"
"Sit still, Sarah. I'll go see."
Jenny was sitting in a child's chair with Megan and Patrick on either side. On the small table in front of them was a sketch pad.
"Is that me?" Patrick asked, giggling.
"Yes," Jenny said. "That's you and this one is Megan."
"And you and Daddy," Megan said, pointing to two other figures.
"That's right. And after today we're going to be a real family."
"I'll put the names." Feeling important because she was the oldest and could spell, Megan printed all their names underneath. When she'd finished, she puckered her brow. "What about mother?"
Jenny quickly sketched Claire. "She's part of the family too."
"She says you're nice," Patrick said.
"I think she's nice too. It's good to have two mothers who love you."
"And a brand-new grandpa and grandma and aunts and uncles." Megan beamed. "Put in Grandpa Jake, Jenny, and Grandma Sarah and Aunt Victoria and Uncle Josh and Uncle William."
Jenny added her parents and brothers and sister. The family was complete now—except for one. She walked to the window and searched the crowd for one face.
It was not there.
Megan tugged on her hand. "Jenny, tell us again how it's going to be."
"Yeah. Tell us." Patrick grabbed her other hand.
Jenny knew it was time to get dressed for her wedding, but she knew that children were more important than schedules. Daniel would wait.
She hugged them both. "You'll have two Christmases and two Easters and two vacations— one with your mother and one with us."
"On a bus?" Patrick said.
"Someday we'll go on a bus." Jenny drew a recreational vehicle rollicking down the road, with children and animals hanging out the windows. In the driver's seat was Daniel, and riding shotgun was Jenny. Underneath she wrote The Sullivan Family.
Megan and Patrick pressed their little hands over the picture, then Megan counted the faces at the window.
"That's more than me and Patrick."
Jenny looked at all the tiny faces she'd sketched in the imaginary bus on the imaginary vacation.
"You can take your friends," she said softly.
Gwendolyn, who had been in the doorway for some time, cleared the lump from her throat
"It's time to get dressed, Jenny. Come, children." Gwendolyn took their hands. "Let's go upstairs to Grandma Sarah."
"I'll be right up, Gwendolyn." Jenny went to the window. Half of Florence was gathered on the lawn. But the man she was searching for was still not there.
Claude Sullivan. Daniel's father.
Leaving the window, she went upstairs to don her wedding gown.
o0o
Music of harps filled his formal garden. A sea of gaily bedecked friends filled the chairs set upon the lawn. Flanked by Jenny's brothers, Daniel stood underneath the arch of yellow roses, waiting for his bride.
Victoria came first, her dark regal bea
uty causing a stir among the guests. More than one eligible bachelor was smitten that day by the maid of honor.
Patrick was next, bearing the ring carefully upon a satin pillow. Then Megan, spreading rose petals. Her next-door neighbor Bobby Newton, terror of the third grade, stuck out his tongue at her, and she stopped long enough to shake her fist in his face.
Then, acting as if the flower girl threatened guests every day, Megan smiled at her daddy and proceeded serenely down the aisle.
A glimpse of white satin caught Daniel's eye. Jenny. His love, his special angel. The sun shed its light across her face, but she didn't need the sun to shine. Jenny glowed with the beauty of spirit that made her glorious above all women.
Jenny smiled as only she could, and Daniel felt as breathless as he had the day he'd first seen her swinging in her flower garden with her white dress flying about her legs and her golden hair hiding her face. Breathless and reborn.
She came slowly, gliding along, with the gown hiding her limp.
"Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
"I do." For all eternity. Loving his Jenny.
Jake Townsend kissed his daughter on the cheek and placed her hand in Daniel's. "Cherish her," he said.
"With all my heart."
There was a stir at the far end of the garden.
"Look, it's him," someone whispered.
Out of the corner of her eye Jenny saw Claude Sullivan. Without looking right or left, Claude strode through the crowd, straight down the center aisle. Daniel's hand tightened on hers.
"If anyone can show cause why this man should not be wed to this woman, let him speak now or forever hold his peace," the minister said.
There was a collective intake of breath as Claude took his place beside Daniel and glared at the minister. The harpist got nervous and plucked a harp string. A single clear note echoed in the stillness.
Father and son stared at each other, then slowly Claude held out his hand.
"If you'll still have me, I want to be a part of this family, Daniel."
Daniel took the outstretched hand. "I'll have you, Father. Gladly."
Jenny would never forget his smile. It was the greatest wedding gift she could ever receive.
"Well..." Claude turned to glare at the minister. "Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to marry my son to this wonderful woman?"
"I'm going to marry them."
"Good. Get on with it."
"That's what I say. I'm tired of holding on to this basket." Megan grinned at her grandfather, a chip off the old block
Daniel winked at Jenny. "This is a feisty Irish family. Do you want to back out?"
"Never." Jenny smiled at him, then turned to smile sweetly at the minister. "Get on with it, please."
He did.
And with both their families and most of Florence looking on, Jenny Love-Townsend wed the man who had dared to become her hero.
Chapter Fifteen
Daniel knew the meaning of heaven, for every night he held it in his arms.
After a honeymoon in Paris, he and Jenny had settled into comfortable married bliss in his house in Florence. Gwendolyn was invited to join the household, but she declined, choosing instead to stay in the Victorian house that Jenny occasionally used as her studio.
Kicked back at his desk at Sullivan Enterprises, he counted himself the luckiest man alive. He had an adoring wife, two plucky children, a civil if not downright friendly relationship with Claire, and a business that wouldn't quit.
What more could a man want?
Helen punched the intercom. "Daniel, Clark Abrams on line two and your wife on line one."
Although he'd been waiting to hear from Clark Abrams for three days, he punched line one first.
"Jenny? Hello, darling."
"Daniel..." Her breathy, lilting voice never ceased to send shivers of pleasure down his spine.
"I'm taking the children on a picnic this afternoon. Can you join us?"
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'll be tied up with Clark Abrams."
"The man who wants to buy you out."
Daniel laughed. "The man I'm going to buy out, darling."
"Good luck, Daniel."
She meant it too. Jenny never resented his work as Claire had.
A vision of her frolicking in the leaves with his children came to Daniel. He could almost feel the autumn sunshine on his face.
Would they miss him?
Daniel pushed the thought aside and punched line two. Clark Abrams was waiting.
o0o
He was late getting home, too late to sing a lullaby to his children, kiss their soft cheeks, and tuck them in. They had a mother to do all that now.
Jenny. She was sprawled in delicious disarray upon their bed, her golden hair shining in the lamplight, one of the sheer white gowns she favored tumbled off her shoulder to reveal one rose-tipped breast.
She came awake at his footsteps on the floor.
"Daniel?" Sleep made her voice throaty. And exceedingly sexy. Fully clothed, Daniel gathered his wife in his arms and buried his face in her sweet-smelling neck. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."
"I love waking you."
"And I love you waking me." She pressed against him, her body already quickened with need. "Wake me some more, Daniel."
Her artless sensuality inflamed his senses. He wanted to be inside her. Now.
Dangerous to lose all reason. Children were out of the question.
Jenny reached for his buttons, her hands hot upon his skin, robbing him of sanity. He crushed his mouth against hers, and they rolled together on the bed. He pushed aside her gown, found her hot, satiny sex. His fingers took up a wild rhythm.
"Oh, Daniel. I want to feel you, all of you. Now." Her hands were upon his zipper.
Need ripped at him, and urgency such as he'd never known.
"Wait, love ..."
"Please, Daniel." She whimpered with the need that scorched through her.
Letting her go even for an instant was sheer agony. He fumbled in the bedside table, then seconds later, fully sheathed and fully clothed, he took them on a wild, hot journey that left them both panting.
Later, when he had undressed and lay beside her naked, he made love to her again, this time in the leisurely fashion of a man who knows he has the rest of his life with one special woman.
o0o
Negotiations with Clark Abrams demanded all his time and energy. As his body and his mind became more fatigued, his passion became more demanding. He spent the cool nights of October in hot, unbridled lovemaking.
Not only did Jenny anticipate his moods, she matched him. Once when she spread yellow rose petals and waited among them, naked, he was in her before he thought.
Her hot flesh squeezed at him, and he pulsed with life. He was lost, lost, riding the searing waves of passion.
"Daniel..." She called his name in the shattered voice that signaled she was nearing that final crashing climax.
The sound of his name electrified him. He levered himself quickly off.
"Daniel?"
"I wasn't ready, Jenny."
"Oh." Her voice was crushed with disappointment and defeat.
Daniel sat on the edge of the bed, silently damning the fates. Jenny put her small hand on his rigid back and rubbed away the tension.
"It's all right, Daniel," she whispered.
He took her in his arms, and sometime later, properly prepared and sensible, he made love to his wife.
o0o
Jenny slept with one hand curved under her cheek. The rosy flush of their recent coupling tinted her skin.
Daniel sat on the edge of the bed, studying her. His Jenny. His angel. How she loved him. How she trusted him.
He'd vowed never to fail her. But he almost had. Tonight.
Restless, he left their bedroom and wandered through the house. The children were sleeping peacefully; the animals were content. Every living thing in the house was content except Daniel.
Why? He had everything a man could want.
Sitting at his desk in the study, he idly riffled through a coloring book one of the children had left behind. Out of its pages fell a drawing. One of Jenny's.
With only the light of the moon to see by, he studied the picture. In one corner of the page was their family, with all the names written underneath in Megan's uncertain cursive.
It was the opposite corner of the drawing that arrested Daniel's attention. He snapped on the light so he could see better.
Jenny had drawn a bus, and from all its windows hung animals and children—six children, not two. Megan and Patrick were easy to pick out, for even in caricature Jenny was precise. The other four were nameless, but they weren't unidentifiable. Each of them had the downy hair, the trusting smiles, and the slightly almond-shaped eyes of Down's syndrome. God's special children, riding in Jenny's dream bus. And underneath was the caption in large letters. The Sullivan Family.
The picture haunted Daniel for weeks. At odd moments—when he was talking with Clark Abrams or dictating to Helen or studying a balance sheet—he'd see Jenny's dream, fully illustrated on a drawing in a child's coloring book
The figures on the profit and loss statement stared back at him. He was a millionaire many times over. And a merger with Abrams would triple his wealth.
Jenny and the children were bird-watching today. Hoping to spot an eagle, Megan had said. And Jenny, knowing the importance of dreams, hadn't told her eagles were scarce in number, and not likely to be seen in Florence, Alabama, in any case.
"Let's take the binoculars so we can get a good look," Jenny had said instead.
He walked to the window, suddenly burning with the desire to see an eagle. He didn't see one, of course. All he saw was the vast parking lot and massive loading docks of Sullivan Enterprises. Signs of his success.
What more did he hope to prove?
Had Jenny and the children seen an eagle yet? He knew there had been a sighting once along the river.
"Daniel." Helen stuck her head around the door. "Mr. Abrams on line one."
Daniel reached for the phone, then changed his mind.
"Tell him I'm out," he said. When Helen shut the door, he picked up the phone and dialed Jenny's doctor.
