After Fin and Teddy were settled, Oliver headed for his parents’ bedroom and walked to the window that overlooked the Rosenthal property. As the shadows deepened each night, Selena, not work, consumed his thoughts. Her new strength and confidence. The wonder of her kiss, her touch, her compassion for him even when she’d been spitting mad—and more than a little scared of him still.
He’d left the ball in her court. He’d done all he could this time, calmly explaining his family’s side of things. Where he and Selena went from here was up to her, unless he wanted to make things ugly. But he had to see her again, talk to her, hold her. Because of Camille and his parents and Brad and Dru, yes. And because he needed Selena close.
She’d kissed him last night, after he’d promised Dru he’d keep his hands to himself. Why the hell had Selena gone and done that if she was going to ignore him all day today? Meanwhile he’d been out of his mind remembering the fire that had streaked through him as her sweet lips innocently brushed his. He stared out the window at Belinda’s hedge of camellias.
Don’t make what you do next about anyone but you and Selena . . . Dru had said. Do what’s right for you this time . . .
Problem was, Oliver had no idea what was right anymore. Seattle was gone. Toronto was gone. Work had been a black hole of nothing for him since he’d come home to Chandlerville. And he . . . he couldn’t get his head around caring, not enough to focus on landing his next client. Not until his dad was better. And Joe was going to get stronger. Before long he’d be back at the house, and he and Marsha could take over the family again.
Then Oliver would be free to refocus on the high-pressure job and fast-paced life that suited him. He would find a way to get back to work, exactly as he’d planned. Only when Selena had flat-out asked him what he’d do if he turned out to be Camille’s father—whether he’d be leaving Chandlerville—he’d had no answer to give her.
He still didn’t.
It’s not like you’re staying, Fin had said.
It had never been as if Oliver was staying. Then he’d seen Camille and talked to her, he’d seen Selena again, kissed her, and let himself want everything they’d once had back so desperately he’d barely stopped himself from walking next door about a dozen times today—he couldn’t think about anything else.
I have things in my life that are more important . . . he’d told the AA group last night, looking straight at Selena when he’d said it.
All of it was important. His responsibility to his career and his family. His relationships with his parents and brother and sister and even the younger kids. His responsibility to his daughter, if Camille really was his. His feelings for her mother that had never gone away.
Oliver stared out at the night and the Rosenthal house—a cutthroat problem solver who didn’t have a clue what his next move was. Or how the hell to make it, without hurting any of the people he cared about.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Belinda stepped onto the shadowy porch and took a seat on the swing cushion beside Selena’s.
Then her mother seemed satisfied not to say anything at all, while they both stared into the night.
Selena remembered it vividly, Belinda finding her on this same swing, crying, their first night on Bellevue Lane. Because they’d finally moved away from their bigger house way across town, where they’d lived with Selena’s dad. And Selena had accepted that her father was never coming back.
She’d only heard from him a few times since. On her birthday when she was younger, a card would arrive in the mail with his signature alone beneath some sappy saying. He’d have tucked a five-dollar bill inside, as if that were all she’d needed from him anymore. The last birthday card before Selena lost contact with him had come when she was eighteen. A few months before she’d broken things off with Oliver.
“Couldn’t sleep,” she finally answered.
“Seems to be an epidemic tonight.” Belinda motioned toward the lights still on downstairs in the Dixon house.
“Why are you still up?” Selena asked.
She’d stayed home another day with Camille. Her mom had gotten up early and gone to work, the same as always. They’d shared a simple dinner—another pot of Belinda’s soup, in deference to Camille’s still-queasy tummy. Otherwise, Selena and her mom had kept to themselves. The same as last night, when Belinda had returned from the hospital, and Camille had already been asleep, and Selena had been in her room . . . needing time and space to think.
“I fell asleep earlier for a few hours,” her mom said. “It didn’t stick. I heard you come out here awhile ago.”
Belinda stared straight ahead while Selena pushed them both in the swing.
“How are the Dixons?” Selena asked, knowing her mom had called Marsha to check on things.
“Joe’s still in CICU. Marsha’s a wreck while they wait for him to stabilize. But she’s staying strong for her kids. You know how she is.”
“Just like you stayed strong for me, after Daddy left?”
Belinda hesitated, then nodded. “After I told him to hit the road. Because we were better off without him.”
“Why . . .”
Selena inhaled, fighting the long-ago anger, the outrage at being abandoned, the unfair blame that she’d heaped on her mother. For hours, she’d been picturing herself twenty years from now, having a similar talk with her own daughter about the father who may or may not have decided to be a part of Camille’s life.
“Why,” she tried again, “did you let me think all this time that Daddy just up and left us for no reason?”
“Because that’s exactly what he did, the day he decided to carry on an affair, and to keep seeing the woman for over a year.”
Everything inside Selena froze. “What?”
“Then when I confronted him about it, he expected me to accept it as part of our marriage. It was a minor matter I should overlook, because he was so good at putting food on the table and keeping the lights on. Besides, if I left him and his money, what the hell was I going to do without the pretty life I’d grown accustomed to?”
Selena planted her feet on the ground. The swing jerked to a stop.
“What?” she croaked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Belinda kicked off and relaxed into the brightly covered cushions as they swung. “Have you told Camille about Parker’s other women?”
Selena shook her head. She’d barely been able to admit it to her mother, when Selena had called to say her marriage was over, and she wasn’t sure she could pick up the pieces of her and Camille’s life on her own.
“Would you have stayed with him?” her mother asked. “For your daughter’s sake, would you ever go back to him, no matter how he treats you, now that you know how difficult it is to make ends meet on your own?”
Selena shook her head again, understanding more, and less, about her mother by the second. “Is that why you took Camille and me in? Because of what Daddy did to you? And now Parker—”
“I took you in”—Belinda inhaled the summer spice of the night air—“because I love you, and I wish I’d never let you go in the first place. I know it’s hard for you to believe that, or to want to come back for good. And I’m grateful to have you and my granddaughter here before you move on. But before you leave again, Selena, I want you to know . . . I’ve always wished you’d come back. I’ve always wanted you to be happy here, make a life here, raise your daughter here. No matter what’s happened.”
Selena curled her feet beneath her.
“You let me miss Daddy.” She needed to know it all. “All these years, you let me be mad at both of you and miss him, when you’d done what you had to, because he—”
“He was your father. You were already brokenhearted. I didn’t want to take more of him away from you than I already had.”
Selena thought of the hazy photograph that was all of her dad she had left. A picture of them that she’d once kept in the last book he’d ever read to her—Alice in Wonderland. After he’d disappeared, she’d dreamed of
falling down a rabbit hole and finding him on the other side. Her entire childhood, she’d craved the magical future they should have had together. When all along, that magic had already been hers—here in this tiny house with her mother, who’d done the best she could to protect and raise Selena. The way Selena was now loving and protecting Camille.
She’d taken Alice in Wonderland with her when she’d left for New York. But she realized she had no idea where her dad’s photo was anymore. She’d put it somewhere when Camille had fallen in love with Alice, too. Selena had always meant to look through her things for it. She’d thought maybe one day she’d even go searching for him. But now she knew—her father hadn’t deserved to be found. He didn’t deserve another second of Selena missing him.
“You protected me,” she said to Belinda, gently stroking her arm.
“Your father loved you, I think, in his own way. Just not enough to keep his fly zipped up when he wasn’t home.”
“And not enough to want to stay a part of my life once you tossed his cheating ass out.”
Belinda chuckled. She took a cleansing breath, then exhaled. “He was a bastard. There’s no getting around it. I know it’s been hard on you, honey. I’ve been hard on you. But all I ever wanted was for you to make the right decisions, the ones that’ll finally give you some happiness. And I want you to do the same thing for Camille.”
“You mean about Oliver?” Selena wished there was enough light to clearly see her mother’s expression.
“Oliver and Parker.”
“Oliver’s nothing like my husband, or Daddy.” Selena was certain of that, if nothing else. “He’s not the one who . . . he’d never cheat on me the way I hurt him with Brad.”
Belinda swung some more. “You can’t seem to stay away from the man he’s become, any more than you could when he was a boy.”
“I went to the hospital his first day back to apologize. I’d hoped that would be enough for both of us.”
“You were wrong.”
And maybe Selena had wanted to be wrong. Maybe she still did, about so many things.
Belinda looked at her. “The choice you make next for you and Camille will affect a lot of people.”
“I don’t think the choice is mine alone to make alone any longer.” By now, Belinda must have heard about Selena and Oliver talking outside their AA meeting.
“Do you love him?” her mother asked.
“Since when has my loving Oliver ever been enough?”
The swing creaked on its hinges.
The night drew a little closer.
“I wanted Camille to have a fresh start,” Selena said. “No more disappointments. No more fear and confusion and worrying what’s wrong or what’s going to happen next.”
“And she can’t have that if you still care about Oliver?”
Selena let them swing for a while, knowing the moment had come, knowing her mother probably already knew, but, Lord help her . . .
“When Oliver was here the other day when you interrupted us,” she said, “it wasn’t just to see me. And now I have to deal with . . .”
“We have to deal with it,” Belinda reminded her.
Loving her mother for the we, Selena pressed on. “He wanted—he still wants—to discuss something Marsha somehow guessed. Something I should have been straight with you about before now. With everyone. You see . . .”
Selena’s stomach bounced into her throat, choking her.
“I do see, honey.” Belinda said. “Marsha Dixon’s not the only one with eyes and intuition where her child is concerned. Or her grandchild.”
“You knew.”
“Do you?” Belinda took Selena’s hand, where Selena was clutching one of the swing’s cushions. “Do you know who your daughter’s father is?”
Selena shook her head, feeling it all. The past and the regret. “It wasn’t a conscious choice at first. I was on my own when I found out.”
“You wouldn’t have been, if you’d told me.” Her mother sounded sad, not disappointed the way Selena had thought she’d be. “And it’s my fault you didn’t know back then that I’d have helped you, no matter what. I can be a critical person, Selena. After your father . . . I became too focused on getting through life. Surviving and making things work when I had only myself to lean on. I couldn’t fail. I wouldn’t let that happen to you, too. So I worked hard at everything, and tried to do the very best for you I could every day. But I left you feeling lonely. Until you turned to someone else for the love you thought you didn’t have at home. It took me too long to realize that I was losing you.”
“You haven’t lost me,” Selena insisted. “I’m so sorry. For everything. I made myself believe nothing would ever be right for me here after Daddy left, and then Oliver left. I made my own problems, not you. And I thought I could run from them, even after I had Camille. I wanted her to have more than I had. I convinced myself Parker could give us that. When all this time . . . she had a grandmother who would have doted on her. None of this is your fault.”
Belinda patted Selena’s hand. “It’s never wrong to want more for your child. But, honey, there’s nothing you can do for your daughter—nothing you can do because you love her and you want the best for her—that I’ll think is wrong. I’ll support whatever decision you make.”
Selena caught the glimmer of tears in her mother’s eyes.
“You have supported us, Mom. You’ve saved us more than I had a right to expect.”
“You’re saving yourself. I’d like to still help with that, as much as you’ll let me.” Belinda dashed at her eyes. “I spoke with Marsha a little last night . . . about Camille.”
“Mom . . .”
Belinda raised her hand. “Whoever the girl’s father is, Marsha and Joe Dixon want only the best for you and your daughter. I’m convinced of that. In your heart, I think you know it, too.”
“Do I?”
“Thinking about having them on your side scares you is all.”
“That’s not true . . .”
“If we all get behind whatever you think is best for Camille,” Belinda said, “you have one less reason to convince yourself that you need to run again.”
Selena left her mother and the swing behind, moving to the other side of the porch.
“Camille wants the fairy tale,” she said. “And she deserves that. White picket fences and perfect yards and bubble wands and happily ever after.”
“Why can’t she have that and have the Dixons, too?”
“While her father is marrying someone else and making a new family for himself? Or if Oliver’s her father, while he’s so caught up in his crazy busy career that it keeps him from being with his family except when there’s an emergency?”
“Camille will have you to help her through all that. And me. And her other two grandparents. Brothers and sisters. It won’t be easy, but . . . is the fact that it’ll be hard a good enough reason for you to run again and keep your daughter away from all of us?”
Selena looked out into the sleeping yard she and her daughter had helped Belinda coddle. Every beautiful thing out there was waiting for the morning sun—for another chance to thrive.
“What do I do, Mom? I could bring her back for visits. I’ve already told her I will. But she loves it here. If she knows she has even more family in Chandlerville, that she belongs with the Dixons, too . . . if I explain about Oliver or Brad . . .” Selena paced across the porch. “What if one of them hurts her somehow, even if they won’t mean to? Or if I still decide to leave, and knowing about the Dixons hurts her? What if just telling Camille at all screws everything up again for her, after what she’s been through already with Parker? I can’t stop thinking I should just leave it alone, no matter how much I want . . .”
No matter how much Selena wanted Oliver and the Dixons for herself, too.
“Maybe I should settle Camille somewhere else first,” she reasoned.
All day, Selena had been trying to rationalize moving at the end of the school year—som
ehow getting the money from Parker and piling herself and her daughter and everything they owned back into Fred and leaving Chandlerville behind.
“Maybe then I could explain to Camille about her father, once we have some distance from all of this.”
Selena knew she sounded ridiculous. But Belinda had sat through it all. No judgment. No advice. Just waiting and supporting.
“What do I do, Mom?”
“You stick.” Belinda stepped to her side, the swing creaking softly as it rocked without them. “You stick it out this time, until you’re sure you know the right answer.”
Selena hugged her mother, desperate for the soft, loving feel of it.
“I’ve learned a lot from my own mistakes.” Belinda held on. “From living with them for as long as I have. We are what we are, inside—wherever we go in the world. My moving us to this house didn’t change the damage that came from losing your father—for me or for you. Any more than you leaving New York has erased what happened with Parker. But growing up in this house brought you closer to the Dixons and Oliver. And coming home has brought you and your daughter closer again. Don’t run this time, until you’re sure letting go is what you want.”
“So I should stick?” The very opposite of what Selena’s instincts were screaming for her to do.
“As long as it takes to figure things out. Not for Camille or me or Oliver or Parker or Brad or the Dixons. This is your life, Selena. Your choice to make, for you and your daughter. For your family. There’s no right or wrong decision. There’s just what you think is best.”
“Like you did when you told Daddy to go?”
“Yes.” Belinda eased away. “As hard as it’s been, I love my life in Chandlerville. The way I never would have if I hadn’t told your father to leave. I’ve figured out how to be happy, Selena. Now it’s your turn.”
“I . . . I don’t know how to do that.” For so long, damage control had been all Selena could think about.
“You will.” Her mother wrapped an arm around Selena. Together, they stared at the landscaped view they couldn’t quite see. “And once you do, I’ll be right here, fighting for whatever you decide.”
Let Me Love You Again (An Echoes of the Heart Novel Book 2) Page 18
