She trusted him, she relied on him. He couldn’t afford to ruin it all with one foolish lapse.
“I have to go back to the station,” he said. But he didn’t move.
“I’ll be all right,” she tried to assure him. “Don’t worry.”
“I’ll call later...to see how things are going.”
“I’ll be all right,” she said again.
The telephone rang, causing both of them to jump. The answering machine kicked in and delivered the old recorded message. On the tape Gabe’s voice told the caller to leave their name and a number where they could be reached if they wanted to be called back. The machine whirred and beeped, then a voice—that of Annabelle Scanlon, Tyler’s Postmistress and undisputed maven of gossip—boomed into the room. “Gabe! Raine! I was away at a meeting all day and just heard the news. You could have knocked me over with a feather! I can’t believe...! One of you give me a call just as soon as you can. I’m sure everyone in town would like to give you some kind of gift. But no one’s sure what to get, what you might need. So give me a call and—” The tape cut off.
Gabe and Raine looked at each other.
Neither said anything, but each knew what the other was thinking—thank heaven for answering machines!
A small smile pulled at the corner of Raine’s mouth, to be answered by a similar twitch of Gabe’s lips.
* * *
RAINE COULDN’T SETTLE at anything. Once again alone in the house, she wandered from room to room as dusk faded into night. She could only imagine what her mother must be thinking, must be feeling as she and George made their way back to Wisconsin.
The answering machine continued to record incoming calls. Most were from people curious about the marriage, but a few were from people asking assistance from Gabe. Diffident, needy-sounding people. One, an elderly man, asked if Gabe could repair a broken window. Another, a woman whose preteen son was causing her trouble, wanted Gabe to give him a good talking to. Another, an older woman with a cracking voice, requested that he come change a lightbulb in a ceiling fixture.
Raine paced about the house, yawning repeatedly in spite of her determination to resist the waves of sleepiness that had started to fell her at about this time each evening. It was one of the natural manifestations of her pregnancy, she’d read in the literature the New York doctor had given her. Understanding that helped, but it didn’t make her happy about it. Particularly considering that she would soon have to face her mother. Nature won out, though, and before long she had stretched out on the couch and fallen into a deep, restorative sleep.
She had no idea what time it was when the doorbell rang, or even where she was. Nothing was as she remembered it. Then she realized that she was in Tyler, married to Gabe, and the person continuing to ring the doorbell was undoubtedly her mother, whom she would have to explain everything to.
She pushed the loose hair out of her face and sat up. The clock on the mantel read eleven-thirty.
“Just a second,” she called through the door, after using her New York caution to check that it truly was her mother outside. She fumbled with the latch on her first try and had to try again.
The door swung open and light from the living room flooded the porch, allowing the two women to look at each other—mother and daughter, tension mirrored on each of their faces.
Marge had turned fifty on her last birthday, but because of the difficulties in her life, she’d frequently looked years older than her true age. Responsibility had been a heavy burden that dragged her down. Earlier in the year, though, she’d had her hair restyled and colored to a warmer shade of brown, her makeup had been updated, and in consultation with Nora Gates Forrester, owner of Gates Department Store, she had chosen a new wardrobe. She still looked like Marge, Raine’s mother, but there was a new energy about her, a new confidence. Raine had received pages of her mother’s quips and observations while the transformation took place. She’d also received a photograph of the finished product and had been amazed at the changes. But this was the first time she’d seen her mother in person.
Raine absorbed everything about her in the first few seconds. Marge, staring back at her, must have been equally quick in sensing the pain and confusion that held her daughter captive.
Marge stepped into the house, closed the door and extended her arms. Raine’s response was instant. She slipped into her embrace, at once feeling welcomed and protected like the young child she longed to be. Gone was the strain that had lingered between them during the past seven years—the quiet disapproval, the corresponding resentment. The only thing that mattered was the love each felt for the other.
At that special moment nothing could hold back Raine’s tears. “I’m sorry,” she said after a time, sniffing and trying to smile. “I’m sorry you had to come back from your trip so early. I’m sorry I—”
Marge smoothed Raine’s hair away from her face. “I told you,” she said. “The trip wasn’t all that wonderful. George and I were thinking of coming back early anyway.”
“Not this early,” Raine murmured.
Marge smiled slightly, worry and concern still evident in her brown eyes.
“Where is he?” Raine asked, straightening. She glanced belatedly past her mother, looking for George.
“At home. I thought it best if I came alone. Raine, will you please tell me what’s going on?”
Raine turned partially away. “I told you. Gabe and I are married.”
Marge caught her daughter’s arm and brought her to the couch. “Tell me everything,” she commanded, sitting Raine down and taking a seat herself.
Raine’s heart rate quickened. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to have to confess how stupid she’d been—to get pregnant, to think that Joel... “I’m pregnant, Mom,” she said tightly.
For a moment she wondered if Marge had heard. Her mother was so quiet, so still. Raine chanced a quick look, and from the expression on her mother’s face knew that she had.
“Is the baby Gabe’s?” Marge asked at last.
“No,” Raine admitted in a choked voice.
“Whose is it?” her mother asked.
“Someone—someone you don’t know. A man named Joel Hastings. He and I—”
“Why didn’t he marry you?”
Raine looked down. “He wants me to have an abortion. He...doesn’t want children.”
She sensed her mother’s deep frown. Was she thinking about the man she’d married, Raine’s father, who had walked out on them shortly after Raine was born? Had he not wanted children, either? Or had the added responsibility just become too much for him?
“I see,” Marge said finally.
Raine was concerned with the way her mother was holding herself, the tautness of her shoulders. Deep regret again washed over her. She was bringing pain to so many people, disrupting so many lives. Maybe it would have been best for everyone if she’d just done as Joel suggested. Not ask any questions. Not...think.
She started to speak again, but her mother interrupted her. “Is that why you married Gabe? To give the baby a name? Two mistakes don’t make a right, Lorraine. Gabe is too good a man to be trifled with, to be taken advan-tage of.”
“Mom, I’m not—”
“Or you could have had the baby on your own. Heaven knows things are a lot easier today than when I—” She broke off.
“The same thing happened to you?” Raine breathed.
“I was going to say, when I was a young woman. No, I was married to your father all right and proper, Raine. We waited until after the ceremony to make love for the first time...not that that did a lot of good. He certainly didn’t stick around very long after you were born.”
“I thought about it,” Raine replied tightly. “I thought about everything, even an abortion. But...would you really have wanted me to get rid of the baby? I
never thought you, of all people...”
“I know how hard raising a child on your own can be. But no—” Marge’s expression softened “—I wouldn’t want that.”
“I couldn’t do it,” Raine said miserably.
Her mother put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “How did Gabe come into this?”
“There was a storm...you weren’t home. I couldn’t get into the house...and he found me.”
“He would.”
Raine closed her eyes. “I’m not sure I’ve done the right thing, Mom. He wanted to marry me when he found out. It was his idea! But—but right after the ceremony, I had second thoughts. Not for me, for him! It’s not his problem that I’m pregnant, or that the man I—I thought loved me, didn’t love me enough to—”
“Where’s Gabe now? At work?”
Raine nodded.
“When did all this happen?” Marge asked.
“Yesterday. Reverend...I think her name is Reverend Sarah. Does that sound familiar?”
Marge nodded. “Sarah Kenton. She married you?”
Again Raine nodded.
“Didn’t she ask any questions?”
“Why should she? I’m twenty-five and Gabe’s twenty—”
“Twenty-nine, I know.” Marge sighed. “I still come back to the question, why did you do it? You and Gabe...you’re more like brother and sister than—”
“We still are!” Raine rushed to say. “We’re not...the marriage isn’t... We aren’t... But we don’t want anyone to know. To keep down the gossip. So that after, Gabe won’t be hurt as badly.”
“After?” Marge repeated.
“We don’t plan for this to be forever. Just until after the baby’s born and I can get my life back together. I don’t have any money, Mom. Not enough to speak of. Or insurance. I’m just a week short of qualifying from last year. And the part I told you about—the job I just got? I couldn’t keep it. It wouldn’t be fair to the producers or the rest of the cast.”
Marge shook her head slowly. “But to marry Gabe!”
“He’s my best friend. We both understand the situation. Talk to him tomorrow, Mom. He’ll tell you the same thing.”
Marge closed her eyes and continued to shake her head.
Raine looked miserably down at her hands. So many wrong choices, so many wrong decisions. If only she could have the chance to make any one of them again...
“Mom?” she ventured softly.
Marge didn’t seem to hear her.
“Mom?” Raine repeated. “Will you mind being a grandma?” The last word lingered in the room, echoing quietly, yet with enormous power.
Marge opened her eyes. “I’ll love being a grandma,” she said. Then she reached out again and gathered her daughter close to her heart.
CHAPTER SIX
GEORGE PHELPS SAT out on the back patio “smoking” his empty pipe. Gabe saw him as he cut across his driveway, on his way to his front door.
When George waved, Gabe didn’t have any option but to change direction and say hello. Technically, the man was now his father-in-law.
“So, Doc,” he said, claiming a self-assurance he didn’t fully feel, “you’re back.”
George got up with slow deliberation and walked to the hedge. Tall and fit and in his late fifties, he had the distinguished air of a person accustomed to authority and respect. Born into one of the prominent families of Tyler, he had made his biggest contribution to the community while serving long years as chief of staff at Tyler General Hospital. Now, after having chosen early retirement from day-to-day practice, he saw only the occasional patient.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” George said.
It was bad enough that the unexpected marriage had thrown Marge into a tizzy, which directly affected George, but the vacation he’d probably been enjoying had been canceled as well. Gabe wasn’t sure how the older man would react. “Yes, well...” he hedged.
“Marge also told me about the baby...about what you’ve done for Raine. Don’t worry,” George assured Gabe quickly as he started to frown. “I won’t tell anyone. I took an oath to keep my mouth shut a long time ago, and I also promised Marge. Now, I’ll just say this once and I won’t say it again...but it’s something I think needs to be said. I’ve seen a lot during my years practicing medicine in this town. People sometimes think that because we live in a small place we’re insulated from the normal troubles of life. That we inhabit some kind of perfect world. Those people are stupid. The things I’ve seen people do here, to themselves and to others...” He shook his graying head. “But every once in a while you see some good things happen, too. And good people. You’re one of those good people, Gabe. No—” he raised his hand to stop Gabe from protesting “—let me finish. I’ve been watching you for a long time. Watching how you care about people, the big and little things you do for them. And I’m not talking about your job. This is after hours, on your own time. Well, now you’re bringing it home to us. You’re doing something for Raine, which means you’re doing some-thing for Marge, which means you’re doing something for me. And I’m not going to let the moment pass without acknowledging it. I’d like to shake your hand, son.”
Gabe stared at the proffered hand. Dr. George Phelps had always been a distant figure during Gabe’s growing years. The older man had been busy at the hospital and with his duties on the board of directors at Worthington House, not to mention other various services to Tyler. After he’d married Marge and moved next door, he’d still seemed somewhat distant. Now he wanted to shake Gabe’s hand...because Gabe had done what he’d wanted to do for many years—marry Raine.
Feeling something of a fraud, Gabe clasped the hand extended to him. George’s handshake was firm, confident. He tried to equal it.
“Welcome to the family,” George said mildly.
“Thanks, Doc,” Gabe murmured. Then he glanced back over his shoulder toward his house.
George noticed. “Don’t let me keep you,” he said. “I know you’re just getting off duty, and I remember what that was like.” He then jammed the pipe stem back in his mouth and retraced his steps to the chair.
Gabe completed his shortcut across the front yard and let himself into the house. Again, as he’d found last evening, everything was quiet. But unlike the evening before, Raine was not sitting curled on the edge of the couch.
She’d seen her mother, talked with her. How had she come through it? Was she all right?
Gabe tiptoed down the hall, unwilling to wake her if she was asleep. The door to her room was ajar. He hesitated, then peeked inside.
His father’s room smelled of her delicate perfume. Her robe was draped over the back of the easy chair. She was in his father’s bed, under the cover, very still, her bright, copper-colored hair spread out on the white pillow like a halo.
Gabe stared at her, unable to move...because if he moved, it would be toward her, not away.
She stirred and he instinctively tried to fade back into the hall, but the heel of his shoe thumped against the doorjamb and she sat up at the sound.
She wore a white cotton nightgown instead of the pink pajamas. The gown was sleeveless, with a scoop neck that exposed a teasing glimpse of cleavage. Gabe had to forcefully lift his gaze.
“Gabe?” she questioned, blinking.
“Sorry I woke you,” he murmured. “I was just...checking. I saw the doc just now and he said—”
“They’re back, yes.” Raine yawned and stretched prettily, like a cat. Using both hands, she threaded her fingers through her hair to push it away from her face.
She was so beautiful she might have been a painting come to life. Her bright hair, her contrasting pale skin, her face and body so perfectly formed... The mere sight of her made Gabe physically ache.
“Mom came over last night,” she said.
Then her arms slowly fell. “Gabe? Are you all right? You look—”
Gabe recovered quickly. “I’m fine, just tired. We had a couple of calls during the night—one was particularly bad. A wreck on the highway between a truck and a car. I’m going to have to hit the sack for a couple of hours this morning to catch up on my sleep.”
“I thought I heard a siren earlier.”
“That must have been the call to Gunther and Fourth Street.” He named a location a few blocks away.
“Was it serious?”
Gabe chuckled and rubbed his cheek. “Just someone making a late-night snack. The man fell asleep at the table and smoke filled the house. The smoke alarm went off and a neighbor called us in. The man was pretty embarrassed when we rolled up.”
“I can imagine.”
Gabe leaned against the doorjamb. “What did your mom have to say?”
“A lot of stuff. Mostly what I told you she’d say. She wants to talk to you, too.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Gabe murmured. “She used to give me almost as many lectures as my dad did.”
Raine smiled in remembrance.
Gabe continued to look at her, not realizing that time was passing.
She gave a small laugh. “You’re going to be asleep on your feet if you don’t lie down soon.”
Gabe was tired; he hadn’t lied about that. But at the moment, sleep was the farthest thing from his mind. Still, he pushed away from the jamb and murmured, “You’re probably right. Don’t let me sleep past ten-thirty, all right? That is, if you’re up by then.”
“I’ll be up,” she assured him. “Mom said she’d be over around eleven.”
Gabe nodded and turned away.
* * *
SECONDS LATER THE shower switched on and a short time after that switched off. Next came the sound of Gabe’s footsteps as he made his way down the hall and turned into the bedroom directly opposite his father’s. Raine snuggled luxuriously under the cover. She was glad to hear the soft sounds of his presence. Yesterday had been a very long and lonely day.
Daddy Next Door (Hometown Reunion) Page 7
