by Casey Dawes
“I can’t look at things any other way,” she said.
“I’m sorry for that,” Mom said. “I’ll just add it to the damage that Frank did when he made the choices he made.”
“But he was my dad . . . ” If she gave up her image of her dad, how would she ever find true north again?
“He was a human being—good and bad, faults and good points—just like the rest of us. Even you.”
Silence hung heavy.
“I hope you consider an alternative viewpoint. Life will be very hard for you if you don’t try to understand how the other person sees things. Try to work things out with Chris this time. Move on. Give yourself a chance to develop a real relationship, maybe with Reese.”
“Reese and I are done.” She sipped more tea as she lowered herself into a kitchen chair. God, she was exhausted.
“Oh? That was fast.” Her mother poured a glass of Chardonnay from the refrigerator and joined her at the table. “Seems like you’re clutching your resentments as hard as Kelly Anne holds her favorite stuffed animal—what is it this week?”
“Elephant.”
“Appropriate,” her mother said.
Findlay held her retort. There was no point in engaging. Her mother would win any battle of words. Stomping off and slamming her bedroom door was no longer an option, as tempting as it was.
“I’ve got enough on my plate. The holidays, another trip to Seattle, figuring out where I’m going to work,” she said. “I haven’t got time to change my whole personality.”
“There shouldn’t be any more problems at work, should there?” Her mother turned the heat down under the furiously boiling soup.
“I can’t stay there. Not with Reese.” How could she possibly see him every day? Between the ache in her heart for what might have been and his puppy dog expression, she’d be devastated. “My name is cleared. I need to move on.” Even if it meant going back to Seattle to find a new job. Maybe Mom would go with her. There was nothing for her here except this worn-out house in the tired neighborhood.
“Mmm.”
“Mommy, I’m hungry.” Kelly Anne laid her head on Findlay’s knees.
“Supper’s soon,” she replied. “Listen, Mommy has to go away tomorrow night to do something for . . . work. I’ll be back Friday afternoon.”
“Will you be home for the movies?”
“Movies?”
“Yes. Reese is taking us, ‘member?”
Crap.
“I don’t think we can go, sweetie.”
“But you promised.” The familiar wail threaded through her voice.
“I don’t think I’ll be home soon enough.” Although her flights would get back in plenty of time, she wanted any excuse to cancel a movie date with Reese.
“You promised.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Then I’m going with Reese by myself. I like Reese. And I like movies!” Kelly Anne flounced out of the room.
“I’m in so much trouble when she’s a teenager,” Findlay muttered.
“Yep. But you know the saying . . . you’re going to have one just like you.”
Findlay shook her head.
“She’ll get over Reese being out of our lives.”
“But will you?”
The ache in her heart throbbed just as it had when she was sixteen. But this time she was the one ending the relationship without giving him a chance.
Her stomach twisted. It was all for the best. Now that her father’s name was cleared, all she had to do was handle Chris and move on from the past.
She was just going to have to accept being alone. No matter how badly it hurt.
Chapter 20
The door closed behind the lawyers and mediator at Chris’s insistence. They faced each other across the polished table.
Findlay forced her hands to stay still. Any sign of weakness and he would go for her.
“Now, what was so secret that you couldn’t say it in front of our lawyers?” She kept her voice steady and her gaze on him.
“Ah, Findlay.” He leaned back. “Always ready to defend yourself.”
“I’m doing this for my daughter.”
“Our daughter. Do you really think I’m that much of an ogre?” he asked.
She stayed silent.
He poured himself a glass of water and held the pitcher toward her.
She shook her head. Why couldn’t he just get on with it?
“Cheryl, my fiancée, is quite insistent that we have a heart-to-heart,” he said. “I don’t think it’s going to matter—you’re too secure behind those walls you’ve built—but I promised I’d give it a try.”
“Whatever,” she said, and deliberately looked at the small clock set discreetly on the credenza.
So the lawyers could keep track of their billable hours, no doubt.
“I really did love you. Or loved you as best I knew how,” he said. “You were so wounded and vulnerable. All I wanted to do was protect you. Unfortunately, I went about it the wrong way.”
Her laugh was bitter.
“You controlled my life, cut me off from my friends,” she said.
“I’m sorry. I truly am.” He clasped his hands in front of him. “I thought . . . well, I thought they were causing the problem, why you seemed so unhappy with me. I didn’t understand why you wanted to spend so much time with them instead of me. I don’t like lots of other people. They make me nervous. I thought you had to feel the same way.”
“But you did fine in the office.”
“It was a front. There were defined rituals and a space of time that had a beginning and end. My parents wanted me to get ahead, but I wasn’t sure I had it in me to be what they wanted. I’m afraid I took it out on you.” His smile was woebegone, and there was sadness in his eyes. “In a way I was looking for happily ever after for us. I just didn’t have the foggiest idea how to go about it.”
“You were looking for a wife you could mold to be an asset in your career.”
“Who the hell told you that?”
“Your mother.”
“My mother is an idiot—a social climber.”
“I thought . . . you wanted that, too.” She gestured to the water. “I’ll take some of that now, thanks.”
He reached across the polished surface, picked up her glass, filled it with life-giving water and handed it to her.
He’d always done little things like that for her. She’d taken it for granted most of the time, but they really were sweet gestures.
“Thanks,” she said. “For everything.” She gave him a smile.
“You’re welcome, but what do you mean?”
“I think I missed some things when we were together. It just felt like you—or your mother—were always telling me what to do. I could never relax, be me, and play with my . . . our . . . daughter.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I tend to just say what needs to be done. It’s so obvious. It never occurs to me that someone might take offense when I’m trying to be direct. It’s too bad we couldn’t have talked about it while we were still married.”
“I tried, Chris. You wouldn’t listen.”
He was silent as he stared at his manicured fingernails and impeccable cuffs, the links glinting in the sunlight.
“You’re probably right, although I don’t think I really heard you.” He glanced at her a brief moment before going back to his hands. “My dad always had a dismissive attitude toward women’s opinions, and I guess I adopted that behavior.” His smile was slim. “Cheryl’s called me on it any number of times. It’s a wonder she puts up with me.”
Pain zapped her heart. If only they’d been able to communicate on a real level. But wasn’t that true with most of her relationships with men? The ones she’d been closest to—her father and Reese—had left her, and she’d done everything she could to make sure no one would ever hurt her again. People were either for her or against her.
Black or white.
This time when he looked up Chris’s gaze stayed o
n her. “Can’t we figure out this thing with Kelly Anne? It’s gone on too long as it is.”
Maybe some of the blame for their difficulty was hers. She approached each of their interactions with the foregone conclusion that he’d hurt her or Kelly Anne. She’d become the knight on the steed, launching herself into combat to protect herself and her daughter before discovering if there was really any danger.
“I’m not sure how to trust you,” she said.
“I haven’t given you good reason to do that,” he admitted. “But you never really trusted me from the beginning. I don’t think you trust anyone.” He took another sip from his water.
“Of course I do.” The defense was reflexive, even though a moment before she’d had her own doubts.
“Name someone.”
A shadow at the frosted glass next to the door of the conference room indicated someone checking up on them.
She glanced at the clock again. Only fifteen minutes had passed.
On the other hand, the time had gone by without them going at each other’s throats. Instead, the room was filled with a palpable pain.
Who did she trust?
She’d trusted her dad, but her mother was right, he should have stayed and fought. Reese had fought for her, but he’d had moments where he thought she was out to get him—she’d seen it in his face. Chris had been a thorn in her side since she’d married him.
She shrugged. She really had no answer.
“Where do we go from here, Findlay?” Chris asked. “I want Kelly Anne in my life. And I want to do what’s best for her. No matter what it takes. How do I make you believe that?” His face had an expression she’d never seen. Almost pleading.
“Why?” she whispered. “Why now? You couldn’t have cared less before.”
“I was wrong. Kelly Anne’s problems aren’t your fault, or hers. If anything, the trait came from my side of the family. At Cheryl’s urging, I’ve done a lot of research.” His voice broke. “I went about everything all wrong. You were right . . . about most things. But . . . ”
But what? There was always a “but” with Chris.
He took a deep breath and continued. “I was right about one thing. You coddle her too much, Findlay. She’s not going to break.”
Oh, but she might. Her precious little girl could go along thinking life was just fine, everyone was in her corner. And then someone would betray her. Put a pistol in his mouth, just like . . . Findlay bit back the sob that threatened her composure.
Chris refilled her water glass, and she drank gratefully.
It was going to take time to undo old thought patterns.
“Our daughter is strong,” Chris said. “Just like her mother. But she needs to know that—just like you do.” He stared out through the plate glass window at Lake Union. Then he turned his gaze back on her. “You’ve been dealt some horrible blows. I have no idea how I would bear it if one of my parents committed suicide. It’s got to impact your life—it has. You withdrew from possibility. I didn’t help. I know that.” His smile was flat. “We were the worst two people to ever get involved.”
He was probably right. She had some work of her own to do to heal. No matter what was going on, it was time to change her personality and give everyone a second chance. Maybe let Reese back into her life. But the first step was to settle the custody issues with Kelly Anne.
“What did you have in mind?” she asked.
• • •
Hood up, Findlay walked down the familiar sidewalk to the Pike Street Market. Around her, people rushed homeward, umbrellas jostling in the soft but steady rain.
She placed each foot carefully, almost performing a walking meditation. The conversation with Chris, mediator and lawyer-free, had lasted most of the afternoon. Fortunately, she was able to keep her room and change her flight without too much hassle. She’d calmed Kelly Anne down with a promise of a movie on Sunday with extra popcorn.
There were still details, but the broad brushstrokes had been worked out. Custody would remain with her, and Chris would get generous visitation in Seattle. She was at peace with the decision.
“Hark, the Herald Angels Sing” blared from inside a nearby store.
It was time to push past the wounds of childhood and stop using them as a crutch. It was the season of hope and anticipation after all. Time for her own miracle.
The blossoms right outside the market were stocked with red and green.
For the first time in a long while, the joy from the season wiggled its way into her soul. Hope gave wings to her imagination.
Everything in the market was brighter than it had been a few short weeks ago.
She walked through the long hall, where people were doing their last business the final busy week before Christmas commenced. She still had too much shopping to do.
In fact, other than the jams she’d squirreled away from her last trip, she hadn’t gotten anything.
She’d hit up a few department stores before her flight home tomorrow. Rush shipping would be costly but worth it. Findlay smiled at the woman arranging gift boxes of tea on a display. On impulse, she purchased one—perfect for her mother.
After an hour of browsing and a few more purchases, she slipped into one of the nearby restaurants. Chatter surrounded her, providing a background noise to her meal. Savoring every flavor, every tang of sweetness and unexpected bitter, she played scenes with Reese over in her mind.
She smiled to herself. The desire to move beyond the kisses they’d shared was as strong as it had been when they were teens, but now she knew what all the fuss was about.
It was Reese. It had always been Reese. Just like Chris and her dad, he was human. She’d need to work hard to repair the bridges she’d burned when she’d walked out of his house, but maybe he’d give her her own second chance.
“Check, please,” she said to the waitress. Gathering her things, she walked back out into fine Seattle mist.
• • •
Reese settled into the den with his father. Through the windows, Mount Sentinel’s “M” shone with the bright light of the setting sun.
For the first time in a long time, the television was off and the crackling tension was gone.
“I was a fool,” his father said. “Frank never liked Sam. Said he was too slick, too manipulative. I guess since I was the one he was manipulating, I didn’t see it.”
Reese stayed silent. Since Findlay’s kidnap and attempted manslaughter, it had been like this. His father would talk for a while then be quiet. A while later a sentence or two would come out that showed his mind had kept working.
“She come back yet?”
“No. She called in sick this week, except for yesterday. She had to go to Seattle—mediation for custody and visiting rights for her little girl.” She should be back in town now.
“I’m sorry about what I did to you two,” Dad said for the fourth or fifth time since Tuesday. “Wish I had a magic wand to do it over.” He took a sip of his club soda.
So did Reese. He’d left several text messages and voice mails for Findlay, but no return call. It was like she had shut the door firmly behind her.
He didn’t see what he could have done differently.
“Saw the doctor today,” his father said. “I’m cleared to go back to work for a few hours a day. Got to keep doing what I’m supposed to, though. Damn doctors.” He raised his glass in a mock toast.
Frank Callahan hadn’t been the only one to attempt suicide. His father had just chosen a slower death spiral.
Sam had done a lot of damage.
Reese had to fix what the bastard had set in motion over a decade ago. He needed to make one last effort to get Findlay to open up to him.
“Got to make a call,” he told his father as he pulled the cell phone from his pocket.
His father nodded.
On the deck, he leaned against the rail and stared at the city below. It seemed emptier without her, even from up here.
He dialed.
&nbs
p; When she picked up, he asked, “Mrs. Callahan? Can I speak to Findlay? Oh? What time does her flight arrive? I’d like to pick her up.”
• • •
A light snow was falling as Reese pushed open the glass door of the airport. Ahead of him the small airport was aglitter with the lights of the season. Residents picked up guests and returning travelers with hugs and smiles. Joy abounded.
Hope filled the air and his heart. Christmas was a time of possibilities. Maybe this try would be the miracle.
He checked the airport listings—everything was on time. He made his way to the tiny corridor for exiting passengers.
Strangers.
Well, not entirely. He recognized a face or two and received more than one wave. An old high school classmate stopped to chat.
Getting off planes in Montana was a lot like getting off a bus in a small town.
Except the face he was looking for wasn’t here.
After checking his watch for the fifteenth time, he looked up and saw her walking down the corridor from the plane.
She spotted him at the same time, and her face wreathed in a smile.
“Oh, Reese, I’m glad it’s you,” she said as she flung her arms around him, dropping her suitcase and coat in the process.
He hugged her close. The warmth she returned was the miracle he’d hoped to receive. He stepped back and examined her, his hands still on her shoulders.
“What changed?” he asked, too impatient to get somewhere calmer.
“I took a good hard look at myself.”
“And?”
“I realized it was time for me to ease off some of my attitudes. Give people a chance to explain their side of the story and not rush to judgment.”
The tightness in his chest softened.
“Ever since we met in June,” she continued, “you’ve stood by me. Even when you doubted me, you waited for it to work out. I need to do the same.”
She touched his cheek, her eyes bright with tears. “I love you. I always have.”
“I . . . love . . . you.” His voice cracked on every word.
There was nothing to do but kiss her.
So he did.
Oblivious to the crowd parting around them like a river near an island, he explored her mouth—how her lips tasted under his, the soft yet unyielding demand. He took them deeper, sweeping his tongue into her mouth, dancing with their passion. Her breasts pressed against him, and discomfort made him aware of his growing erection.
