Daddy Next Door (Hometown Reunion)

by Ginger Chambers

  George nodded proudly. “Well, he did.”

  “How is he? It’s been... We used to see each other all the time, but since he left New York—”

  “He’s doing fine, just fine.”

  Raine glanced at George carefully. “His, ah, veterinary practice is doing well?” At one time George had been stubbornly determined that Roger should follow in his footsteps as a physician. An “M.D.” would be added to his name, period. No question. Raine had been amazed when Roger informed her at their last lunch together that he’d decided to leave medical school. She’d been even more amazed when, sometime later, she’d learned from her mother that he’d announced his intention to care for animals.

  “Seems to be,” George said. “I heard from him last night. He told me to tell you he’d be calling soon.”

  Raine couldn’t prevent a smile. Roger definitely had a way about him. He covered a very tender heart with a great sense of humor. He never seemed to take anything too seriously—himself or most situations.

  “And Melissa?” Raine prompted. Roger’s older sister was Gabe’s age. Unlike Roger, she’d always seemed highly aware of her family’s place in Tyler society. She had a little too much of her mother in her, Marge had once said—the only time in Raine’s memory her mother had commented negatively on anyone in the Phelps family.

  “She’s fine, too...I think,” George said. “We’re not exactly on the best of terms at the moment,” he confessed. “She and her mother...live close to each other in Chicago.”

  “Do you get to see her children?” she asked softly, responding to the sadness she heard in his voice.

  “No.”

  Raine fell silent. There were some in Tyler, she’d been told, who blamed Marge for the breakup of the Phelpses’ marriage. But Raine knew her mother better than that. Her mother wasn’t a home wrecker, and George, from everything she knew about him wasn’t some kind of reckless lothario. If the marriage disintegrated, it had done so before Marge and George came together. Mary probably didn’t see it that way, though, and neither, it seemed, did Melissa.

  George motioned to her untouched glass. “Would you rather have something else?” he asked.

  Raine had forgotten the orange juice. “No,” she said and took a sip.

  George watched her. “You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to,” he said.

  “It’s good for me,” Raine answered.

  “And the baby.”

  Raine’s fingers tightened on the glass. “Yes.”

  “You’re what—eleven to twelve weeks?”

  Raine nodded.

  “You’ve been examined by a physician?”

  Again Raine nodded.

  “In Tyler?” George persisted.

  Raine shrugged. “Not here. Not yet.”

  “Hank Merton’s one of the best obstetricians in the state.”

  “I know. I’m going to call him.”

  “What about a pediatrician?”

  “I haven’t thought about that yet. It seems so...”

  “It’s never too soon to start lining things up.” He paused. “There’s a new one in town. Close by, actually...just the other side of Mrs. Johnson’s, in that big old Victorian. He came to claim his inheritance from his grandmother. Ruffled some feathers when he wanted to convert the bottom floor for his medical practice, but he’s doing it anyway. He has impeccable credentials, excellent training and a lot of experience. Name’s Paul Chambers. Maybe one day you should drop by and talk with him. I’ll go with you, if you like, to introduce you.”

  Raine was having a hard enough time reconciling herself to the fact of her pregnancy and subsequent marriage. To take the next step—to actually make firm plans for what would happen after the birth—was more than she could handle at the moment. “No, I’ll—I...” she faltered to a stop.

  George’s face softened. “I apologize,” he said gruffly. “Trying to organize other people’s lives is a bad habit I have left over from my previous existence. Your mother’s just about broken me of it, but every once in a while I slip up.” He leaned forward. “You’re having a pretty hard time of it, aren’t you, Raine? Being forced to make important decisions with all the gossips nipping at your heels. I know what that’s like. I’ve been through it. It’s pretty intense while you’re the center of it, but it does die down...eventually. Something else happens and attention moves on.”

  “I want it to go away now.”

  “I know.”

  “We had to tell Annabelle about the baby yesterday. She cornered us when we went out for a walk.”

  “There’s an advantage to having it all come out at once.”

  “It’s over with sooner, I know. Gabe thinks that, too.”

  George reached for his empty pipe, sucked on it a second or two, then said, “I spoke to Gabe yesterday morning.”

  Raine looked up. “You did? What about?”

  George motioned vaguely with his pipe. “Everything that’s going on.”

  Raine lifted her chin. “Do you think I’m taking advantage of him, too?”

  George was silent, then he said slowly, “It’s been my experience that a man seldom volunteers for something he doesn’t want to do.” He paused. “How do you feel about Gabe, Raine? I mean now, today?”

  Raine searched for words. “Grateful, appreciative...”

  “Do you think he’s comfortable with that? That that’s what he wants?”

  Raine’s frown deepened. “I don’t understand. What do you—”

  “I’m doing it again, aren’t I? Well, never mind. People are best served when left alone to find their own way.” George smiled again and surprised her by reaching over and patting her hand. “I have to tell you the truth, Raine,” he said. “When I married your mother, I had misgivings about how you and I were going to get along. You’d had her all to yourself for most of your life. She doted on you. All the time she worked so hard, it was for you. She wanted the best for you—dancing lessons, voice training...anything you wanted. Maybe I came to be jealous of you when I fell in love with your mother, I don’t know. She did talk about you a lot—Raine this, Raine that. I didn’t want to share her. And I didn’t know you very well...I still don’t know you very well.” He laughed softly. “But the resentment’s gone away. You’re important to Marge, so you’re important to me. What happens to you matters. I want the best for you, Raine. Just the same as if you were one of my own children.”

  It was strange how a simple act of kindness from an unexpected source was sometimes harder to deal with than the meanness and criticism of known enemies.

  “I—I’ll remember that,” Raine said huskily.

  He nodded and sat back, his teeth clamping down on his pipe stem.

  * * *

  RAINE DIDN’T WAIT for her mother’s return. She went back to Gabe’s house, oddly satisfied by her exchange with George—feeling that they’d taken several giant steps forward in cementing their relationship.

  Truth to tell, she’d been a bit jealous of him as well. Having to share her mother was difficult for her, even though she was no longer a child and not living at home. It was the idea that was difficult to accept.

  Now, having talked with George without the filter of her mother’s presence, she could easily see what had attracted her to him in the first place. He was a genuinely nice man, strong and kind and basically nonjudgmental. His first instinct was to heal.

  Raine was still confused, though, by what George had meant in what he’d said about Gabe. What did her feelings for Gabe have to do with Gabe’s comfort? With what he wanted? He simply wanted to help her; that was the way it was with them. He knew her inside and out, just as she knew him.

  Only...did she? She’d known him in childhood and through their teen years, but she’d left Tyler when he was twenty-two an
d just out of the community college in Sugar Creek. Today he was almost thirty. Seven years was a long time in a person’s life—he’d said that himself.

  She shook her head. No. He was still very much the old Gabe she’d always known. Sweet and kind and loyal.

  Seven years! another part of her mind insisted. She had changed during that time, moved from being a girl to a woman. What changes had those years wrought in Gabe? Had she been too embroiled in her own problems even to begin to notice?

  She stood in the doorway to his bedroom. She hadn’t given particular heed to the room before, but now her gaze took in everything. She’d known it all her life, lived with its various evolutions as Gabe changed from a young boy to a young man. Star Wars and Star Trek posters had been replaced with posters of his favorite rock bands and scantily clad models. Several years before she left for New York the decor had changed yet again, reflecting a growing sophistication. All the juvenile posters had come down, the curtains changed from print to a solid color, the bookshelves swept of all but the most precious keepsakes.

  Presently, the room had lost all vestiges of youth. It was a man’s room, decorated with a good eye for color and comfort. The bed had been switched from twin to double; the walls were painted a deep shade of blue, the woodwork a glossy white.

  Raine’s throat tightened. It was so different from what she remembered that it was like looking at the reflection of a stranger!

  “Gabe?” she whispered. But the empty room gave her no answer.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  GABE WAS TO HAVE the next day off, according to the schedule he kept on the kitchen calendar, and Raine had gone to sleep glad in the knowledge that they would be together. She’d remained mildly unsettled through the remainder of the day. Gabe was a relied-upon rock in her world. Even the smallest possibility of change was disturbing. She needed to see him again, talk to him, to reassure herself that he was still the same. But when she dragged herself out of bed the next morning, after a night filled with dreams, it was to find a note from him stuck to the refrigerator door.

  Red,

  I forgot to tell you. I promised to help Alyssa Wocheck with a project this morning. Can’t get out of it. Should be through by two. Think about what you’d like to do then. How about a ride out to Timber Lake?

  Gabe

  Raine dropped the note on the table and went to stare out the window. She wasn’t accustomed to being so alone. In New York there was always something to do and someone to do it with. She had her friends and had made friends with a number of Joel’s.

  Here in Tyler, she was beginning to feel useless. Other than doing her stretches and exercises to keep her body strong and supple, she had little to keep herself occupied. The house was in tip-top shape and simple maintenance was all it needed.

  She went over to the goldfish bowl and sprinkled in some food. As usual, Frederica gobbled it up, flicking her beautiful tail and fins to dart from flake to flake.

  The telephone rang and Raine jumped, an indication of the taut state of her nerves. She lifted the receiver just before the answering machine switched on. “Hello?” she said, hoping that the caller would be someone she would want to speak to.

  “Raine?” A familiar voice said her name.

  “Roger?” Raine replied, instantly identifying him.

  He laughed. It was a nice laugh, quietly masculine, yet filled with genuine humor. “It’s been so long since we talked I wasn’t sure you’d remember. Did Dad tell you I’d call?”

  “He mentioned something about it, yes. But it hasn’t been that long. I wouldn’t forget.”

  “Four years.”

  “No!” she said in disbelief.

  “Four years,” he confirmed. “I’ve had my practice here for two.”

  “I still can’t believe... How are you?” she asked warmly.

  “Better than the last time we met. That’s what I’m calling about. When do you think we could have lunch together again?”

  “I’m free today.”

  There was a silence, during which Raine wished she hadn’t jumped at the opportunity so quickly.

  “Well, as luck would have it,” Roger said momentarily, “so am I, so that’s perfect. How about Timberlake Lodge at noon?”

  “Sounds good to me. I’ll be there.”

  “Uh...you know Gabe’s welcome, too.”

  Raine wound the curly telephone cord around her finger. “He won’t be here,” she said.

  “He’s at work?” Roger asked.

  “No, he’s off doing something. For Alyssa, I believe.”

  “Ah, Alyssa...yes.”

  A dog started barking in the background and suddenly a number of others joined in.

  Raine laughed. “Are you in a kennel?” she asked.

  “The clinic,” he answered. “What you hear are my clients.”

  “Sounds as if you’re doing fairly well.”

  “I’ll tell you all about it later. Noon. Timberlake,” he reiterated.

  “I’ll be there,” Raine promised, and as she hung up she found herself smiling. That was the way she always reacted after contact with Roger. His enthusiasm and enjoyment of life was infectious. Even during the dark patch of his parents’ divorce and the rumor-filled months that followed, he’d always found something to joke about.

  She looked at her watch. It was almost eleven-thirty. She would have to hurry to get ready.

  * * *

  JUST AS GABE HAD DONE, she left a note. In all likelihood, she would be back by two, but she didn’t want him to come home early and wonder. She was also going to take the Explorer, which a quick check had shown to be in the garage, and she didn’t want him to wonder about that, either.

  It felt good to dress up. To put on a nice skirt and blouse, stockings and heels, to wear makeup. It felt good to be going someplace to meet a friend.

  Timberlake Lodge had undergone an amazing change since she had known it as a child. It had gone from a private holding of the Ingalls family, in sore need of repair, to part of the Addison Hotel chain, with all the attendant remodeling and sprucing up. Employees in uniform scurried about making guests feel welcome, both in the hotel and at the restaurant. Raine had been amazed the last time she had come for dinner with her mother and George and was still amazed today.

  Roger met her in the lobby, getting up from the long low couch where he’d been waiting and taking her hands. He looked her up and down and gave a soft whistle. “Hot stuff!” he teased.

  Raine grinned and returned the compliment. “Not bad yourself, Doctor.”

  After Gabe, she’d always thought Roger Phelps the best catch of their age group. Extremely nice looking, with even features, a square jaw, light brown hair and brown eyes, he managed to be both boyishly mischievous and devilishly attractive in the same breath.

  “Do you mind if we skip going to the bar and get a table instead?” he asked. “I have to be back in Sugar Creek at one-thirty to fill in for another vet.”

  “Not at all,” Raine said.

  As they followed the hostess to a table halfway across the large room, Raine was aware that several local people were in attendance and that their eyes were tracing their every step.

  Roger saw her into her chair, and as he took his own, he flashed a smile. “Just like old times,” he said, tongue very firmly in cheek.

  Raine looked around at the opulence of their surroundings, at the white tablecloths and stylish, fresh-flower centerpieces. “All we’re missing are the roaches,” she retorted. Neither of them had had very much money four or
five years ago—he in school, she with only an occasional short-term job on stage to supplement her meager income from waitressing. The places they’d eaten were nowhere near as nice as this.

  He laughed. “I could say those were the good old days, but I won’t. They weren’t particularly good for either of us.”

  “I was happier than you. I was where I wanted to be.”

  “Yeah, I guess you were.”

  “I talked with your dad last night. He doesn’t seem to mind that you’re a vet. In fact, he’s proud of you. He told me about your part in reporting the F and M fire.”

  He shrugged, dismissing his action. “It wasn’t all that much.”

  “Still, he’s proud of you.”

  “The ‘new’ George Phelps,” Roger said. “It took him a while to come around, but it’s to his credit that he did. That and your mom. I think she pointed out to him how he was being just a tad hypocritical, considering the huge changes he’d made in his life.”

  “He said she’s a good influence on him.”

  Their waiter came and they placed their orders. Afterward, each sat back and studied the other. There was a new maturity about Roger that Raine had never seen before. An underlying seriousness. Before, she’d always sensed a battle taking place deep within him—a battle that revolved around his relationship with his father. That situation seemed to have resolved itself, both because of his father’s mellowing and because Roger was at last following the course he himself had chosen.

  “You like caring for animals, don’t you?” she said. “I never knew that was what you wanted. You never said.”

  He shrugged again. “I didn’t think there was much use talking about it. Dad was determined I go to med school and nothing else seemed to matter.”

  “Had you ever told him?” she asked, curious.

  “I tried. He didn’t listen very well back then, and I—” his brown eyes twinkled “—I was ready to use any excuse to get out of Tyler, just like you.”