Let Me Love You Again (An Echoes of the Heart Novel Book 2)

by Anna DeStefano

  “We’ll sucker her in,” Selena conspired with a wink. “We’ll bribe her with a cookie of her own.”

  “Grammy never eats cookies. I don’t like being sick,” Camille groused. “I hate it.”

  Selena watched her daughter rub sleepy eyes with tiny fists.

  “Me too, Cricket.” Yet saying Camille’s nickname made Selena smile, same as always.

  Her daughter had loved being outdoors practically from birth, playing in every park Selena took her to in Manhattan. She’d been mesmerized by the grass and the trees and the birds and breeze from the moment she could crawl out of Selena’s lap and explore. Before Camille could walk or run or dance as she did everywhere she went now, she’d hop up and down, in her baby carriage, in Selena’s arms, clapping her hands whenever they’d left behind the high-rise apartment Parker kept atop one of the oldest residential buildings near Central Park.

  It had always made Selena wish that her daughter had more room to run and play, in a place where nature didn’t have to battle for its existence between towering buildings and avenues of endless concrete and traffic jams. Somewhere like Chandlerville.

  “One cookie?” Camille begged. “Please, Mommy?”

  Selena held on a little tighter, relieved that her child felt well enough to wheedle. Camille’s doctors had warned that each minor reaction to something increased the possibility of a more severe outcome.

  “One cookie,” Selena caved. A special treat. For a very special little girl. “If you can keep your eyes open long enough to eat it.”

  Camille beamed. Then her forehead crinkled in confusion. “Did Oliver have one before he went home yesterday?”

  Selena shook her head, slowly finding her voice. “He left before he could. But I’m sure Mrs. Dixon has lots of cookies at her house.”

  Oliver’s truck had pulled into the Dixon driveway as Selena let herself inside to face Belinda—who as it turned out had been dressed to go out. She’d left a few minutes ago.

  “Whose father is Oliver looking for?”

  “What?” Selena stared into her daughter’s innocent eyes. Camille had felt too miserable to talk much since Oliver’s visit.

  “He wanted to know who someone’s father was.” Camille played with Bear’s long bunny ears. “He was asking if you knew. If he’s trying to help someone find their daddy, you should help, too. Everyone wants a daddy.” She looked up at Selena. “Even if they have the best mommy and grammy in the world, and not every daddy is a good daddy, everybody wants one.”

  Selena hurt for the loneliness Camille hid so well most of the time.

  The last year or two, Camille had zeroed in on any and every conversation about fathers she was around. She’d begun to pull away from Parker, on the rare nights he’d made time for her and Selena. She’d sensed on her own, no matter how much Selena had tried to cover for her husband, that being a father was a convenience for Parker, often a chore.

  “I’m glad Parker’s not my daddy.” Camille cuddled with Bear and frowned, her attention zipping away from Oliver.

  “I am, too, Cricket.” Parker’s chronic neglect of his personal life unless the timing suited his business interests would have continued to hurt Selena’s little girl—regardless of whether Camille one day caught on to the host of other problems in Selena’s marriage. “You deserve the best daddy there is.”

  Camille nodded enthusiastically. “I’m glad we’re here, instead of New York still. Even Fred loves it here. He hasn’t broken down once, the way you thought he would when we bought him. And Grammy’s here. And I like my new school, and I like Mr. and Mrs. Dixon and their kids being next door, and now Oliver. New York wasn’t nearly as much fun.”

  “I like being home, too,” Selena admitted, even though she was terrified that her decision might end up hurting her daughter as much as marrying Parker had. “But we talked about Grammy’s not being where we’ll stay forever, right?”

  The whole world was waiting for them, she’d told Camille when they’d headed to the Deep South. Life was theirs to conquer. They would find a home neither of them would ever want to leave again. Selena had just never contemplated Chandlerville being that place.

  You’re important to me, too, Selena. You always will be.

  She looked around at the pink walls and pink shelves and pink little-girl desk that had been hers back in the day. At the Hello Kitty decorations all over the place—Selena’s obsession when she’d been younger. Now it was her daughter’s, too. Several of Belinda’s hand-sewn quilts were draped over a chair and the foot of the bed. Camille had become fascinated with them. She’d fallen in love with all of it.

  “We’ll make you an even better room,” Selena promised, “wherever we end up next.”

  “I want one like this one, pink everywhere, in a house, not an apartment, where there’s lots of flowers outside my window and a backyard I can play in anytime and lots of nice people living next door and maybe even a puppy. Can we have a puppy, Mommy?”

  Camille’s ability to rebound, to zoom from the bad on to the next happy moment had become a lifeline for Selena. She pecked the tip of her daughter’s nose with a kiss and smiled into pleading green eyes.

  Every other time the topic of a pet had come up, Selena had wormed out of committing, not wanting to get Camille’s hopes up. Not knowing if a pet would be possible wherever they moved next. But Camille being happy was the point of every change, every struggle, every week and then month Selena had worked herself into exhaustion since leaving Parker. So why was she holding back on something as simple as agreeing to a pet? She could make it work, just like she had whatever else her child had needed.

  “Once you and me and Fred are settled, once we know we’re not going to have to move ever again”—Selena brushed her fingers down Bear’s bunny ears—“then we’ll go out and find the cutest, floppiest-eared puppy we can.”

  “Really?” At Selena’s nod, Camille pumped both fists in the air. “That’s so cool. Yay!”

  “Yay!” Selena cheered. “What will you call him?”

  Camille’s eyes rounded. “I get to decide?”

  “He’ll be yours.”

  “All mine?”

  “You’re a big girl now. You’ll be a great mommy.”

  “Just like you.” Camille threw herself into the happy, easy hug Selena had needed.

  “Being a good mom’s a cinch, when you’re working with the right kid material.”

  “We’ll find the right puppy, too. And I’ll train her and”—just that quickly, their future pet was a girl—“she’ll sleep with me on your old bed, and she’ll play in Grammy’s backyard. And . . .”

  Selena felt her daughter catch herself. Camille slipped out of her arms.

  “Or whatever backyard we have when we move,” Camille said.

  Selena wanted her happy hug back. She longed for the luxury of knowing for certain that the job next year at Chandler, and Kristen’s offer to help Selena make night school work, would be the right decision for her daughter—for them. She wanted to trust Oliver’s logic that they could all be one happy family once Camille’s father had been identified.

  And she actually wanted to talk through it all with Belinda. About whether Selena and Camille should stay in town for good. How to approach the rest of the Dixons after talking with Brad and Dru. How to end the secrets and limit the collateral damage and make things simple and calm and settled for everyone.

  “We’ll bring your puppy to meet Grammy as often as we can,” she heard herself promise, the words slipping out and feeling right. “We’ll make sure you get to sleep with your new puppy in my old bed, and play with her in Grammy’s garden,”

  Give me a chance to prove to you that I can handle this, Oliver had asked.

  How on earth were they going to handle any of it?

  Joe’s bypass was happening tonight. Belinda had said as she headed to the hospital it was time she supported her neighbors in person. Oliver was next door with the Dixon kids, alone. Selena had hea
rd Travis’s cruiser pull away, presumably so he could be at the hospital with Marsha. While Selena found herself grappling with the absurd impulse to pop across the hedge once Camille was asleep.

  “We’ll do more puppy planning tomorrow,” she said instead of indulging in the fantasy of kissing Oliver again. “Once—”

  “Blossom!” her daughter exclaimed with another enthusiastic fist pump. “That’s what I’ll name my puppy.”

  Selena couldn’t help laughing. “And what if the right puppy for us turns out to be a boy?”

  Camille’s forehead wrinkled.

  Another kid might have shrugged the question off. But ever since Selena had explained her reasons for calling their heap of a car Fred and talked about the magic of names—including how Camille’s had come from Selena’s very favorite flowers in the world—her daughter had been fascinated with what each name she heard meant. Her expression suddenly brightened in triumph.

  “And the winner is?” Selena knew she was in for a treat.

  “Bud?”

  Selena scooped her daughter close. “You’re too good to be true, kiddo. ‘Bud’ it is. Now, let’s get you that cookie and tuck you in for the night.”

  Selena stroked her daughter’s soft hair and carried her to the kitchen, Camille’s head resting on her shoulder.

  It was a perfect moment. Since leaving New York, Selena had been determined to give her daughter as many of them as she could. Now Camille loved living with Belinda. And she was dreaming of a house and a puppy and a big backyard to play in.

  Except every little girl wanted a daddy, she’d said. One who’d play with her and come home to her every night and make her feel like she was the center of his world. How did Selena explain to her daughter that there’d never be a family like that for her with her biological father? The way it never would have worked out for Camille with Parker.

  Brad was marrying Dru soon. God willing, they’d have kids of their own. Oliver traveled the globe and worked 24-7 for his job. What about any of that wouldn’t mean even more disappointment and heartache for Selena’s little girl?

  She settled Camille into a kitchen chair and kissed the top of her head. “Cookies and then bed. I want my favorite flower in fighting spirits tomorrow.”

  “Because no one waters Grammy’s begonias better than I do?”

  “You’re the very best, Cricket.” And Selena was making that house and yard and puppy and happy family of her daughter’s dreams come true. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Late Friday night, Oliver paced his mother’s dimly lit kitchen with a sniffling Teddy in his arms.

  He’d diapered the kid—he was a pro at it now, since the toddler seemed to take a dump every two hours. He’d given Teddy a late-night bottle, even though caving to it sat squarely in the Do Not Do column of Dru’s two pages of instructions, pinned to the kitchen bulletin board. He’d read the boy a book and played a favorite nursery song on the battered kid-proof tape player that Teddy was supposedly addicted to. Nothing had worked.

  Night four of Oliver’s return to Chandlerville wasn’t going to yield any more sleep than the other three. He suspected Teddy wasn’t settling down completely until Marsha walked back through the front door for good.

  “I know.” He jostled a cranky Teddy up and down, thinking about whimpering himself. “You’re getting a bum deal, man. I’d be kicking up a fuss, too.”

  It’ll be another day at least before they’ll move Dad to step-down, Dru said when she’d called earlier. Oliver had seen Joe only once since the bypass, and his father had been asleep the whole time. They’re trying to regulate his heartbeat and pressure. He’s having trouble breathing still. They’re watching him for pneumonia. Mom said Kask’s team is talking about possibly moving him to a rehab facility first, before he comes home . . .

  Oliver stroked Teddy’s back. The boy’s cries were softer. He rubbed his head against Oliver’s shoulder. Teething was a bitch on little guys, from what Oliver had read online. Dru’s advice for how to handle it? Oliver should make a night’s worth of strong coffee. They hadn’t spent enough time together yet for her to realize he’d sworn off the stuff. It wasn’t as if he were sleeping, regardless.

  A few hours ago, he’d sent the e-mail to kill Monday’s client pitch with Canada.

  “It’s going to be okay, buddy,” he said to the restless, drooling, inconsolable child in his arms. “We’ll make everything okay.”

  “And here I figured you’d be long gone by now,” a voice responded.

  Oliver stared. Teddy lifted his head from Oliver’s soaking wet shoulder and looked behind them both.

  “Over here, dumb ass,” the voice said again.

  “What are you doing up?” Oliver asked Fin, a fourth-grader who according to Marsha had come to the family street-smart and world-weary and with some of the same attachment issues Oliver still struggled with.

  She’d also said Fin was the one who’d first found Joe in the front yard having chest pains.

  The boy grabbed milk from the fridge and a glass from the cabinet beside the sink. He poured, dropped into one of the high-backed stools at the kitchen’s center island. When Oliver put down another glass, the kid filled his, too. Oliver downed half the milk before spilling most of the rest, when Teddy reached for the rim and tipped it almost completely over.

  “Damn it!” Oliver thunked the glass to the counter and fumbled for a kitchen towel. He dabbed at Teddy first and, juggling the toddler, crouched to sop up the floor.

  “Give him to me.” Fin got off his stool. “It’s not like I was sleeping anyway.”

  He grabbed a pacifier off the counter next to the toaster and plugged the baby’s mouth. Teddy rewarded them with silence. He snuggled his head against Fin’s neck, snuffling and suckling.

  Oliver snapped his fingers. “Forgot about the pacifier.”

  “Don’t you know anything about kids?”

  Oliver tossed the soiled towel toward the laundry room, ignoring how it landed short, in the middle of the doorway. He leaned against the island and drained the rest of his milk in a single long gulp, the way he once would have a beer.

  “Did you know how to take care of babies before Teddy came along?” he asked.

  Fin sneered. When Teddy raised his head, Fin gave him a goofy grin. Teddy giggled, drool oozing out from around the pacifier.

  Oliver patted the toddler’s back. “You seem to be pretty good at it now. How long have you been here, anyway?

  “Like a year or something.”

  “I’ve had four days.” Not even that, if you counted the distraction with Selena and Camille, and him visiting the hospital whenever someone could spell him at the house. “Wanna cut me some slack?”

  “Why? It’s not like you’re staying. What do you know about anything around here?”

  “I know that not sleeping sucks. And it usually helps me feel better to have someone else to chew on until the sun comes up. Me, I find subcontractors to argue with, because their coding’s not working or they’re not working fast enough or I want them working on something else. There’s always someone to rant at when I need to sleep but can’t. You”—he pointed at Fin with his empty glass—“evidently decided to come downstairs to gripe at me and hold the baby.”

  “Because you couldn’t get Teddy to shut up.”

  “Or holding him calms you down.” Oliver had been watching Fin’s eyes grow drowsier the longer he had the toddler in his arms.

  Fin promptly handed the baby back.

  “I used to hang out with Dru sometimes,” Oliver said before the kid could make it to the kitchen stairs. “We were both up a lot in the middle of the night. Or maybe I was up first, and she somehow knew it and didn’t want me to feel alone.”

  “So?” Fin glared at him, his hand on the stair’s railing.

  “So, I haven’t talked to Marsha about it, but if hanging with Teddy at night helps you sleep, it’s okay by me. No one else has to kno
w if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  The boy had come searching for his nighttime pal. Oliver was sure of it. While Oliver had done bed check the last two evenings, he kept finding toddler toys on the floor beside the bunk beds Fin shared with Gabe.

  “I don’t care if I’m alone at night,” Fin scoffed. “I was alone for a long time before I came here. In a lot of places a whole lot worse than this dump. I don’t need anyone else to be okay.”

  “But you’re not alone now.” Oliver deposited their glasses in the sink and filled them with water. “And neither is Teddy.”

  Fin eyed him with the instincts of a survivor who wasn’t sure yet if he’d met a friend or an adversary.

  “Does Teddy sleep better with you at night,” Oliver asked, “when he’s not feeling well?”

  “Maybe. So?”

  Oliver headed for the stairs. Walking the floors with Teddy for another night wouldn’t be a hardship. He had too much on his mind to do more than think. But if he’d learned anything from the last four days of chaos, it was to follow his instincts with these kids the way he did with his computers.

  “So.” He handed over the toddler again. “Marsha and Dru both said to tuck Teddy in with me if he got cranky. But as you’ve so wisely pointed out, I don’t know jack about kids. And you’re an old pro, right? You and the rest of the house could use some peace and quiet. Tomorrow you can give me a crash course on—”

  “Not being a total loser at babysitting?” Fin said snidely. He cuddled Teddy against him. The baby actually sighed.

  “You bet.” Oliver headed up the stairs, Fin following. “I’ll learn from the master.”

  And after that, maybe someone could teach him the secret to getting through to Selena.

  No one in his family was thinking about anything right now but Joe’s recovery from surgery. But Dru and Brad had said they were ready to meet with Selena once things settled down. Oliver had called Selena’s cell that morning. He’d texted her that afternoon and again a couple of hours ago. She’d ignored every attempt he’d made to get in touch. So much for taking one day at a time and making this as easy as possible for everyone.