Eve knew that Derek was concerned about her. He had taken time from his work to provide this break from the depressing routine at the hospital, and she was aware that she was disappointing him. If he had known that she was grieving about her upcoming separation from Dob and from him, would that make a difference? No, because Derek was unaware that she even had those thoughts. In his mind, she'd collect her money and disappear. Maybe, with luck, he'd invite her to Dob's birthday parties.
Which would be wonderful, with clowns and ponies and a tent in the back yard of the Myers Park house. Derek would be a loving father. He already was. She had to give him that.
On the fourth day at the cabin, she went down to breakfast as usual.
"Good morning," Derek said as he always did. He was inexpertly lining up bacon slices in a frying pan. At the sight of his big hands performing the task so clumsily, something stilled inside Eve. Not only had this man assumed responsibility for his son, but he was looking after her with kindness that she had no right to expect. In her zombielike state, she'd taken Derek for granted and failed to recognize his efforts. He'd talked, cooked, hauled firewood for the greedy fireplaces. She'd lived off him like a parasite—she, who had always been so independent. She was suddenly ashamed of herself.
To Derek's immense surprise, after breakfast Eve sat wordlessly down beside him and began filling pieces into the jigsaw puzzle. After a couple of hours of working on the puzzle without much conversation, the mantel clock struck noon. The brassy intrusion of metallic sound startled them.
"I'll fix lunch if you like," Eve offered, much to Derek's surprise.
"Fine," he said. It was the first time she had volunteered anything, the only time she had spoken without his speaking to her first.
After lunch Derek stood up and stretched and said ever so casually, "Would you mind coming down to the basement with me, Eve? I need you to hold the flashlight while I poke around down there." He held his breath, waiting to see if she'd continue being communicative or if she'd sink back into her all-too-familiar listlessness.
To his immense relief she nodded her agreement, and he handed her the big flashlight to carry. They descended the basement steps carefully.
"No telling what's down here," he cautioned. "I haven't ventured into this basement since Kelly and I replaced the old furnace with electric heat. Careful, there's a cobweb!" and he brushed it away with his fingers before it could trail across her face.
Derek nudged at a cardboard box with his toe. "Wonder what's in all these boxes." He bent over and looked. "Oh," he said on a note of surprise, "it's all my old Hardy Boys books. I used to bring a shopping bag full of them up here every summer."
"I read Hardy Boys books when I was a kid," Eve told him. She was making an effort to rouse herself from her lethargy. It was difficult, but Derek, with his constant encouragement, was clearly trying to ease her way back to normalcy. She wanted to meet him halfway.
"Train the light on this corner, Eve." He tugged at a large bundle.
"What are we looking for, anyway?" she asked, her curiosity aroused in spite of herself.
"My tent."
"You're not planning on a camping trip in this weather, are you?"
"In the future. Now where could it have gone? I know it's here somewhere."
Eve circled the light around the basement. It fell on an object hanging on the wall.
"There's something we could use now," she told him. "A sled. Why don't you wait and look for the tent some other time?"
"My old sled!" Derek said in amazement. "I wondered where that was."
"And all the time you told me you didn't know how to play in the snow," Eve said.
"Well," Derek said sheepishly, "I'd forgotten. And now, there's old Rosebud."
"Rosebud? Your sled is named Rosebud?"
"I saw this movie," said Derek. "Citizen Kane. And Orson Welles had—"
"I know. A sled named Rosebud."
"I guess I should have been more original."
"I wish you'd find the tent," Eve said with a sigh.
"You're getting tired, aren't you? Here," he said, taking the light from her, "I'll finish this. You go upstairs and rest."
"I'm fine," she objected. "Really." But he noticed that she was shivering, and he urged her ahead of him up the steps.
"I can get the tent later. In fact, it probably isn't any good anymore. When Dob is big enough to go camping, I'll let him pick out a new one."
"You were looking for the tent for Dob?" They stood in the kitchen now, facing each other in the too-bright daylight.
Derek nodded. He wished she wouldn't look so vulnerable. It was his mention of Dob; Eve always looked that way when he spoke of his son.
"It's time to call the hospital," Derek said gently. "They'll give us a progress report on Dob."
Her face lit up. "Oh, good."
Derek dialed the hospital's number and managed to catch Dr. Ellisor there. He passed the phone to Eve. And when she talked to Dob's pediatrician, Derek's heart softened at the glow shining within her deep, dark eyes. She loves Dob so much, he thought with wonder, amazed that she loved this child, who was, after all, no child of hers.
But then, being male, he couldn't imagine it, harboring another human being within his body, breathing for it, eating for it, until you thought of it as part of yourself. And then having to part from it in the painful process of childbirth and, in Eve's case, having to leave it in the hospital when it was time to go. He kept forgetting what she had suffered.
"Dob's taken an extra ounce of formula, Derek," Eve said with barely suppressed excitement after she replaced the receiver in its cradle. This was good news.
"That's wonderful." Derek beamed down at her.
Her expression faded to wistfulness. "I wish—" And then she stopped and stood forlornly staring into space. He knew she wished she'd been the one to coax him to take more at his feeding.
"Eve, let's celebrate. Let's drive down the mountain and have dinner someplace. How about it?"
"But—"
"I won't take no for an answer. Anyway, I'm tired of eating things out of cans."
She sighed softly. "It's nice of you, Derek. You go."
"Not without you," he told her. He would not surrender her to inertia.
He took her to a restaurant called the Juniper Inn near the Blue Ridge Parkway. The restaurant was in a remodeled mansion and renowned for its good food. When Eve didn't seem to know what she wanted to eat, he ordered for her with confidence.
After the wine arrived, he held his glass up and waited for her to raise hers. He had never seen her drink wine or anything alcoholic before; she had been pregnant as long as he'd known her.
"To Dob," he said softly.
"To Dob," she murmured, and when she tried to pull her eyes away from his, his sheer force of will prevented her.
"What would it take to make you happy?" he asked her gently.
"For Dob to be well," she said with feeling, but that was only part of it. To be with Dob forever, she thought.
"My son is a survivor, Eve."
Eve looked somber. "If only I hadn't gone out in the snow that day—" she began.
"We both have something to feel guilty about. I could have stopped you from going out. I should have been there when you went up the steps, not running to get fresh snow for snow ice cream."
"But you—"
"The point is, Eve, that either of us could feel guilty about that day. Dr. Perry has said that he doesn't think that the fall had anything to do with your going into premature labor. Don't you see? We could go on hating ourselves forever if we wanted to. We could blame ourselves for Dob's being premature, but it won't do any good. I should know. For years, I blamed myself for Kelly's miscarriage. My guilt did more harm than good in the long run. I should have let go of it and been a better husband for Kelly when I had the chance." His eyes burned into her.
Eve traced a circle on the tablecloth with one finger. She raised troubled eyes to his. "I don'
t know how to get to where you are," she admitted. "You've grown through that setback, you've forgiven yourself, but the guilt I feel is like a net trapping me. I know there's a way out, but I can't find it. I keep getting lost in my thoughts, wishing... wishing..." She could not go on.
"I'll help you find your way," he said. "If you'll let me."
She only stared at him unhappily.
It turned into a pleasant evening somehow. Not just for him but for her, too. The wine relaxed both of them until Eve actually laughed once at something he told her about work. His eyes lingered on her mouth, the lips curved upward for once, and he was struck with the thought that it was a passionate mouth, and at that moment he wanted to kiss her very much.
He hesitated when they said good-night at the foot of the stairs. He longed to sweep her into his arms and had an absurd picture in his mind of carrying her up the stairs like a movie hero, but that was ridiculous. This was Eve, practical, down-to-earth Eve, and she was sad, and he was sorry, and when he kissed her, it would have to be real, not a replay of something he once saw in a movie.
But she surprised him. She lifted one hand slowly and touched the palm of it to the plane beneath his cheekbone, curving her hand to fit.
"You are a good friend to me, Derek," she whispered, and his heart lightened, because he hadn't known what he was to her, and friendship was a start.
And then she was gone, moving swiftly upward, leaving him to stare after her, feeling breathless and hopeful and so much in love with her that his heart ached.
* * *
Cocooned in her warm comforter, Eve remained wakeful. She closed her eyes, only to find that they sprang wide open to stare into the darkness. She tossed; she turned. She could not find a comfortable spot.
She would have been a fool not to know what was wrong with her. It was Derek, Derek Lang. She felt closer to him than she ever had to any other human being, even her father or Doug.
Well, was that so surprising? They had been through so much together—first Kelly's death, then finding their way back to each other. She had hoped that Derek would come to want the baby eventually, and that had happened, thank God. And then there had been the heartbreak of Dob's being a preemie and therefore at risk, and they had shared that pain. Derek had been so kind to her. It was only natural for her to feel grateful to him.
And yet... and yet. The way Derek's eyes beamed comfort over dinner, the compassion he felt for her and which he took no pains to conceal. The liking she felt for him, for the person he was. When she'd first met him, she'd felt as though they were worlds apart in upbringing, education, and money. Now that she knew him, none of those things seemed important.
He'd spoken to her so kindly in the restaurant tonight. And slowly, slowly, what he had said began to pierce her consciousness. If he, Dob's father, did not hold her accountable in any way for what had happened to cause his son's premature birth, perhaps she could let go of her overwhelming guilt. And yet when she thought of poor little Dob and all the needles and machines that he had to endure in order to stay alive, it was hard not to blame herself. Still, she knew in her heart of hearts that Derek was right—blaming herself didn't help anyone, not Dob, not Derek and certainly not Eve Triopolous.
Derek had comforted her with his words. When they had said good-night at the foot of the stairs tonight, she had longed for Derek to comfort her even further by gathering her in his arms. She'd wanted nothing more, just his sweet, warm, gentle touch.
Was that so odd after everything they'd been through? They were the only ones who could understand the pain of seeing Dob in the intensive-care nursery. It was only natural for them to turn to one another in their need.
But Derek was Kelly's husband. Eve had loved Kelly.
Derek had loved Kelly, but Kelly was gone.
With wonder, she admitted to herself that she could love Derek so easily. Love. She whispered the word into the darkness, unfamiliar with the set of it on her lips. A beautiful word, one that opened its heart in acceptance and closed its eyes in peace.
* * *
The phone rang shrilly early in the morning before he woke up, and Derek lurched out of bed, momentarily confused, before shrugging into his robe.
It was Maisie Allen on the line.
"Just a few points to clear up on that contract to buy the old Wray Mills building," Maisie said, and he was so relieved that he sagged down onto the couch nearby. He had thought it was the hospital calling. He had thought something had happened to Dob.
And Eve had, too, for she rushed out of her room immediately.
"Dob?" she whispered urgently, her face tense with strain. "Is it Dob?"
He slid his hand over the mouthpiece and smiled reassuringly. "No," he whispered, "it's my office."
Her shoulders slumped in relief, but when she turned to pad away on her bare feet, he caught her hand in his free one and would not let it go until she sat on the arm of the couch next to him.
"Fine, Maisie, I'll agree to that. Sure. This has dragged on for the better part of a year now, and I want to get it over with. Okay, call me if you have any questions." He hung up.
"Let's have a cup of coffee. Or tea," he said to Eve. He glanced at her feet. "You'd better go put on some slippers."
She smiled. She was so glad that there was no emergency, and it was amusing that Derek was mentioning slippers. "You know those old black corduroy ones you didn't want me to wear to Oktoberfest? I still have them."
He set the phone aside and grinned at her, remembering that day with fondness. It was the first time he had felt good, really good, after Kelly died. "I'll have the water boiling before you get back," he said, getting up and heading for the kitchen.
When Eve returned, he noticed that she had run a brush through her hair and that her face had a fresh-scrubbed look. She poured the tea and sat down across from him, slippers peeping from beneath her long robe. He'd made buttered toast, and he handed her a piece. There was a sense of familiarity about sitting across a breakfast table from her now, and it seemed right to take her into his confidence about a project that was dear to his heart.
"Actually, that phone call was about one of our newest Lang Industries projects," he told her.
"Oh?" she said. "What is it?"
"A retail center. This one's special to me. Lang Industries started out owning textile mills in my great-grandfather's day. Later, when my dad was in charge and after the NAFTA trade agreements went into effect, Lang Industries expanded to acquire other industries, including commercial real estate."
"NAFTA," said Eve with annoyance. "That's why the mill in my home town closed and workers' jobs ended up in Mexico."
"Shutting down our mills around the Carolinas put many people out of work, but Lang Industries couldn't have continued to make a profit for the shareholders unless we moved our business. I'm well aware that whole towns suffered due to mill closings. When I took over the reins of our family business, I wanted to help places like that." His eyes sparkled.
"How?" Eve asked. Her life and that of so many people she knew had been affected by down spirals in the economy over which they'd had no control. She wasn't sure what Derek had in mind.
Derek leaned forward in his enthusiasm. "Lang Industries is buying the old mill building in Wrayville. I believe that's where you grew up."
Eve was stunned. She hadn't expected this, but if Derek could do something to expand Wrayville's economy, he would be helping a lot of people.
She didn't even try to hide her amazement. "Yes," she said. "Wrayville is my home town."
From the way Eve spoke, Derek knew that he'd finally brought her out of her doldrums. This was something in which she had a real interest, and it heartened him to see her focusing on something new.
He smiled at her. "I'll power up my laptop and show you the plans for the outlet mall. They're awesome."
She put down the piece of toast she'd been nibbling. "Lead the way, Derek. This should be exciting."
"Especially since you're
going to make the announcement in Wrayville. We'll hold a press conference, and you'll be in charge. It's about time to put some of your public relations experience to work, isn't it?" He'd done his homework about her background, and she was the right person at the right time for the job.
"I don't know what to say," Eve said, her eyes lighting up.
"Say okay," he said.
"Okay, okay, okay!"
"That's the spirit," he said, and he reached for her hand. He was rewarded by a big smile, one that told him everything he needed to know about Eve Triopolous.
That he could place his faith in her. That he could choose no better person to be his life partner. And that he loved her more than he would have imagined possible.
* * *
After he'd told eve that he wanted her to be his public relations guru in charge of the Wray Mills conversion, she couldn't wait to go home.
Derek hadn't balked when Eve wanted to leave the cabin. He thought that going back to Charlotte might be best for both of them. Though Dr. Perry had ordered Eve not to see Dob for a week and it hadn't been that long, Derek felt sure that if her doctor could see Eve now, he wouldn't object to her visiting, if only for a few minutes.
Once back in Charlotte, he unexpectedly swung the Corvette into the hospital parking lot as they passed.
Eve raised her brows. "I thought I was barred from visiting," she said. "Doctor's orders."
"Temporarily, you were," he said. "I've missed him so much that I can't pass the hospital without seeing him. How about you?"
"I wanted to ask if we could."
He slid an arm around her shoulders. "We'll make it brief, and I'll explain to Dr. Perry if necessary."
In the elevator on the way to the nursery, Eve slanted a look over at Derek. That morning, he had amazed her by his announcement that Lang Industries was going to buy the Wray Mills building. She'd been floored and then elated by his request that she handle the P.R. for his company.
Ever Since Eve (The Keeping Secrets Series, Book 1) Page 16
