Daddy Next Door (Hometown Reunion)

by Ginger Chambers

  The teapot spout wavered as Raine poured the liquid into a mug. “You want some?” she asked.

  “Later,” he said.

  The hot tea radiated warmth throughout Raine’s body. Yet she still continued to tremble lightly—from the chill she’d had, from strained emotion? “I’m not really very hungry,” she said.

  He delivered the cooked egg. “Eat what you want.” He settled into the chair opposite her.

  Raine made herself take a bite...then another. She truly couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. It hadn’t been at the dinner she’d attended with Joel the evening before. She’d been too unnerved by the prospect of what she would have to tell him later that night, wondering how he would react to the confirmation of her pregnancy. She hadn’t eaten in the hours before that, either, after her visit to the doctor. She’d been too upset.

  She winced at the memory and pushed the plate away.

  “What’s up, Raine?” Gabe asked. His gaze never left her face.

  Raine’s heart leaped.

  Just then a hard gust of wind broke against the house, followed immediately by a loud crash. Gabe jumped up and went to the kitchen window to investigate.

  “A big tree limb came down,” he said. “It hit the garage.”

  “This is quite a storm,” Raine murmured.

  “Worst one we’ve had this spring.” Gabe reclaimed his chair. “Raine...” he said.

  He was trying to bring her attention back to his previous question, but Raine wouldn’t allow it. Instead, she said brightly, “At least we can be grateful we still have electricity.”

  “Raine!”

  She shook her head, signaling without words that she didn’t want to talk about it. “Mom... Mom and George—”

  “—Are away for two weeks. They left Friday morning to visit one of Doc’s friends in Florida. She didn’t tell you?”

  There was a long pause. “She—she might have left a message with my service. I...didn’t check.” Raine’s eyes were wide, dazed. “For two weeks?” she repeated. For the second time in thirty-six hours her world received a severe blow.

  Gabe nodded.

  Raine squeezed her eyes shut. “What am I going to do?” she moaned, not realizing that she’d said it out loud.

  Gabe had no idea that she was referring to anything other than her sudden homelessness. “Well, if things had worked out the way your mom planned, I could be letting you into her place right now,” he answered. “But they haven’t. Your mom was going to leave me one of the new keys so I could water her houseplants, only she must have forgotten, because it’s not where it’s supposed to be. I moved every pot in the shed and no key. So—” he smiled slightly “-your only choice is to stay here tonight. Then tomorrow we’ll break a window, if we have to, to get inside. This is more than just an overnight visit, isn’t it?”

  Raine nodded. It was all she could do not to use Gabe as a substitute for her mother. To fall into his arms and tell him all her troubles. It would be so easy, so natural. But the problem wasn’t his. It was hers, and she would have to deal with it.

  “You can have Dad’s room,” he said. “He won’t mind.”

  Raine frowned. “You said something earlier...”

  “Dad’s off on that trip he’s been threatening to take for years. He turned sixty-two last February and went out and bought himself a motor home. He’s got a new partner at the office, and after the tax rush, he took off for parts unknown. Here...” Gabe searched among some clutter on the counter and handed her a picture postcard. “He was in North Dakota last week and plans to keep heading west. He swears he’s going to be on the road two, maybe three months.”

  “Your father?” Raine was shocked. “I never remember him taking more than two days off from work in my life. A week would make banner headlines in the Citizen!”

  “He was determined this time.”

  Just as her mother had been determined to marry Dr. George Phelps. Ignoring convention, they’d eloped shortly after his divorce became final four years before. Her mother had never been one to let gossip sway her. To let other people’s ideas about right and wrong affect her judgment. That was what gave Raine hope that she would understand about the baby. Or would she ever have to be told? Raine’s thoughts raced on, considering the circumstances. If her mother was going to be away for two weeks, the baby could be gone in that short amount of time as well. Erased before anyone noticed.

  That was what Joel wanted her to do. Then she could resume her career with little interruption. And who knew? Maybe this time the small part she’d managed to win for herself in the new musical would propel her to the stardom she’d long been searching for. It would be easy to explain away the day or two of rehearsal she would miss.

  An abortion would be a quick, quiet, relatively easy way out. Only...was that what she wanted to do? At the moment all she wanted was to crawl into a dark hole and pray that she would awaken from this terrible dream.

  Gabe gently flicked the end of her nose with a fingertip. “What are you thinking, Red?” he murmured, using the nickname he had long ago given her. “Is it really that bad?”

  Raine started. She hadn’t realized how long the silence between them had stretched. “It’s nothing,” she denied. “Nothing at all.”

  His reply was skeptical. “‘Nothing’ doesn’t bring you all the way from New York. ‘Nothing’ doesn’t make you look like you’ve lost your last friend.” He paused. “Well, you haven’t. I’m here for you, Red. Whatever the problem.”

  Raine did her best to swallow another onslaught of tears as she gathered his capable hand into her own. “Thanks, Gabe,” she said with difficulty.

  His clear blue eyes remained steadily on hers, and the warmth of his loyal friendship acted as a balm to her tattered spirit.

  CHAPTER TWO

  THE STORM HAD TAILED OFF by morning and all that remained as witness to its passage was the debris. Gabe, like many of his neighbors, was outside early to start the cleanup. He began with the largest fallen limbs and worked his way to raking up leaves in both yards—his and Marge’s.

  He found the top of a child’s sandbox as well as someone’s lawn chair, all displaced by the wind. A short trip up the street yielded both owners. While he was at it, he checked on old Mrs. Johnson to see how she had fared and if she needed any help. Her granddaughter had already arrived, though, and after a friendly word, Gabe went back to his house.

  There was still a nip in the air and everything was very wet. As he sat at the kitchen table, his hands curled around a mug of hot, strong coffee, he felt some of the chill dissipate.

  He should probably call the fire station to see if they were being swamped with calls for assistance, but since Raine’s unexpected arrival late last night, he was working along the principle of no news is good news. He wasn’t going to volunteer. Not today...not when he knew with certainty that something had gone terribly wrong in Raine’s life.

  A movement caught his eye. She stood in the doorway from the hall, swaying slightly, still groggy, and looking far younger than her twenty-five years. She wore a white terry robe over a pair of pale pink pajamas, her bright hair, cut short and curling under at her jawline, mussed from sleep. All she needed was a teddy bear. And he knew where that was—in her mother’s house, on a shelf in the spare room that had once been Raine’s room.

  “Good morning,” he called heartily, trying to cover the concern he’d wrestled with all last night.

  “‘Morning,” she replied. She came to sit across from him, folded her arms on the table and let her head flop on top of them.

  “There’s no reason you have to be up,” he said. “Stay in bed longer if you want. Get some rest. You look like you need it.”

  “What time is it?” she asked, her voice muffled.

  “A little after eight.”


  “Egad!”

  Gabe laughed. “I’ve already been out and cleaned up both yards.”

  She lifted her head and leveled her beautiful green eyes on him. “I’ve always known the people of Tyler exist in a time warp.”

  “It’s called the real world.”

  “Where I come from some people would say it’s the middle of the night!”

  “I thought you came from Tyler, like me.”

  “Well, I do...but not now. I meant... Never mind what I meant. I’m here now.”

  Gabe waggled his mug. “Want some coffee?”

  She shook her head.

  Gabe took another sip. He didn’t like the way she held herself so tightly, or the look of worried distraction that often pinched her features.

  “Are you planning to stick around until your mom comes home?”

  “What?”

  “Your mom,” he repeated patiently. “Are you going to leave before she gets back?”

  Her hand fluttered to her throat. “I don’t know.”

  “She’ll be upset if she misses you. Are you in between shows?”

  “No, I—I have a part, actually. We’re just starting early rehearsals.”

  “Don’t you need to be there?”

  “Not for a few days... Gabe, do you think we could just drop the questions? I’m not... It’s so early...”

  He stood up. “Sure. I have a few more things to do outside, then we’ll see about getting you into your mom’s house. Make yourself at home here in the meantime, though. Everything’s still in the same place—cereal in the cabinet, milk in the fridge.”

  As he started to walk past her she grasped his hand, pressing it to her cheek. “I didn’t mean to snap, Gabe. I’m sorry. It’s just...right now, everything is so... I don’t know what I’d have done last night if you hadn’t found me.”

  “You’d have figured something out. Probably come knocking on my door.”

  “Still—”

  “Don’t apologize. We’re friends, remember? And friends don’t stand on formalities.”

  “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Gabe.”

  She looked up at him so earnestly that it was all Gabe could do not to fold her into his arms, to use as an excuse his desire to protect her from whatever it was that posed a threat, when in reality, all he wanted to do was hold her. But he’d gotten good over the years at playing his part.

  “Sir Gabriel,” he said mockingly.

  She released his hand, and he had no reason not to continue on his way.

  Gabe busied himself in the detached garage, straightening the tools his father had riffled through as he chose the emergency gear he was going to take with him on the trip. Then Gabe checked out the lawn mower, as good a time as any to get it ready for summer. Anything to help take his mind off Raine. Still the troubling questions persisted. What possible reason could have brought her back to Tyler in such a panic? In the midst of rehearsals? And without calling home first? When Raine left town immediately after high school, she’d sworn that one day she was going to be somebody. Someone the town would be proud to call its own. Lorraine Peterson, Broadway star. She’d been so determined to succeed, so full of hope and fire. It hadn’t happened yet, though. Not in the way she wanted.

  He knew the instant she came into the garage. He didn’t need the short, subtle clearing of her throat as an announcement. He looked up from what he was doing and set the now-empty can of motor oil on the workbench.

  “I haven’t seen one of those in so long,” she murmured, motioning to the power mower.

  “A lawn mower?”

  She nodded.

  He laughed. “Some around here might envy you.”

  “You?” she asked.

  “I’ve never minded mowing a lawn.”

  She had changed from her pajamas into a pair of jeans and a dark sweater, yet even in the garage’s relative dimness, she stood out. She’d always been what Gabe termed one of the earth’s “bright” people. Her hair color, her skin tone, her eyes...she didn’t need a spotlight to be noticed. She moved with a dancer’s grace and power, and he knew from prior experience that it was as easy for her to stand there and gracefully stretch a leg up over her head as it was for him to scratch his nose. Hours and hours of dance class when she was young, combined with as many hours of practice, were responsible—ballet, tap, even some gymnastics. She could sing and act, too. He hadn’t been the least bit surprised when a few years earlier she’d finally won a part in a big-time musical production slated for a run in a revered Broadway theater. The part had been small and the musical had closed after only one week, but she’d been wonderful in it. He’d told her so himself after the opening-night performance, on a trip he’d made especially to see her.

  “Do you really think we’ll have to break in?” she asked, glancing toward her mother’s house.

  “We could call a locksmith.”

  Raine had started to shake her head before he completed the last word. “No, I’d rather not. I don’t know how long I’m going to stay and if word got out... Is that why you moved the rental car over here last night? So people wouldn’t notice it and wonder—”

  Gabe moved past her. “Let’s see what we can do,” he said.

  “I’ll wait here.” She hung back, watching from just inside the garage as he started to circle the house.

  People were careful in Tyler, but the occasional unlatched window wasn’t uncommon. The third one he tried opened easily, and he crawled inside.

  “Coast is clear,” he called from the back door, deliberately muting his voice so it wouldn’t carry far.

  Raine hurried across the yard.

  “I’m not sure if Mrs. Johnson saw me or not,” Gabe said, backing out of the way to let her inside. “That bush by her living-room window needs to be trimmed, but I think I saw a curtain twitch.” Mrs. Johnson was Marge’s closest neighbor on Morgan Avenue, just as he and his father were Marge’s nearest neighbors on Second Street. The elderly woman had moved to Tyler shortly after Raine had left for New York.

  “She won’t tell anyone even if she did,” Raine said. “Mom says she worships the ground you walk on. She’ll think you had a good reason for breaking in.”

  “Like checking on a possible fire?”

  “Maybe.”

  The house had a closed feel. Not stale, but lonely; as if it missed its human inhabitants. Gabe watched as Raine moved from room to room, noting the recent additions and changes.

  “I like it,” she said at last. “It still has the same feel—all warm and cozy like home, yet better. It’s just the way Mom always wanted it, only she never seemed able to pull together enough time or the money to do it. Whenever she planned to buy a new stove or refrigerator, or shop for a new living-room set, something always broke down at the diner or she’d lose a waitress and would have to work extra shifts in her place. The diner’s needs had to come first.” Raine ran her hand along the wood paneling of the recently added study. “Marrying George has been good for her, hasn’t it? She’s truly happy.”

  “She seems to be. So does he. The town was a bit surprised when he put his big house up for sale and moved in with Marge here. But after everything that happened—Doc’s divorce, his and Marge’s elopement—nothing he did was a complete shock. He told Dad shortly after he moved in here that the house on Elm was like a sterile shell, and that living with Marge was like being reborn.”

  “The people of Tyler do love to gossip.”

  “Did you think that would change?”

  “That’s one of the things I like about living in a city. You can do anything you want and no one notices.”

  “Or cares,” Gabe added, and to him that didn’t seem an asset.

  She shrugged and brushed past him.

  As she started back ou
tside, Gabe cautioned, “Let’s check a few things.” He opened the refrigerator. “Just as I thought. No milk, no margarine.” He lifted the lid on the breadbox. “No bread, either. You’ll need to get resupplied.”

  “Like I said, I’m not sure how long I’m going to stay.” A defensive edge had crept back into her voice.

  “Even if it’s only for a couple of days you’ll have to eat. Unless you want to share your meals with me...which you’re welcome to do. I’d enjoy the company.”

  “Don’t you have to be at the fire station?”

  “I’m on my regular four days off. My next shift doesn’t start until Wednesday.”

  “Were you on duty the night of the F and M fire? Mom told me it was awful, and that it put so many people out of work. I can’t believe it was purposely set.” She shook her head as he joined her to walk across the yard. “Who would do such a thing? It has to have been an accident, doesn’t it?”

  “We’re all still waiting to hear what the insurance company rules.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I’m still waiting, too.” He smiled down at her. “I put out fires, I don’t investigate them.”

  He opened the back door of his house for her and followed her inside. One quick look showed him that she had used no dishes while she’d been alone earlier. His mug still sat on the table, and the countertop and sink were clear.

  “How about I fix us an early lunch,” he offered, “then we’ll make a list and I’ll head out to the store. I’ve learned to make a mean chili. It’ll singe your mustache, if you have one.”

  “Maybe...another time,” Raine said, edging toward the hall.

  “Why aren’t you eating anything, Raine?” he demanded.

  “I...my stomach’s been a little funny recently.”

  “Are you ill?”

  “No.”

  “Then at least have some toast.”

  She flashed him a resentful look. “Why are you so determined that I eat? You’re acting like an overprotective hen, Gabe! Maybe I want to lose a few pounds. Did you ever think of that?”