“But why didn’t you cry or scream? Surely I would have heard you.” It sounded as if her mother was tapping a pen on the desk.
“After the first couple of times, I learned that if I made any noise, I had to stay down there longer.”
The tapping stopped. “How often did it happen?”
“I don’t know. It seemed like a lot, but that may be a childishly distorted view. I’m guessing every month or two, starting a few days after my fourth birthday.”
Her mother gasped. “That often? How do you know it started then?”
“Nanny knocked that pretty music box Dad gave me off my dressing table and it broke.” An image flashed through her mind of her father kissing the nanny and bumping the table. She’d never mentioned it to her mother, even after she got older. “They blamed me.”
“They?” Her mom’s voice was instantly sharp, alert.
Emily cringed. She hadn’t meant to let that slip. Lord, I hope I’m doing the right thing. “I was supposed to be watching Sesame Street in my playroom, but I wanted Teddy to come watch too. When I walked into my bedroom to get my bear, Dad was kissing her and they bumped the table. I saw the music box fall off and started crying.
“I’m not sure how everything happened after that. I just remember Dad yelling at me, telling me what a naughty little girl I was and that I had to be punished. He carried me down to the basement and put me in the storeroom. He said if I ever told anybody about him being there with Nanny, he’d send me to live with mean trolls in a forest far away.”
Emily had never heard her mother swear – but she did now. She held the phone away from her ear for a good thirty seconds while Miranda vented.
“I suspected they were up to something, especially when he got so riled because I fired her. But what makes me hot as Hannah’s hairbrush is that he told me you had only been punished like that a few times. I should have known he was lying. I should have left him then.” She huffed out a breath. “I suppose it’s too late to have him arrested for child endangerment.”
Emily laughed. She didn’t know how it was possible under the circumstances, but her mother’s comment cracked her up. “I could put my hair in pigtails and dress like a little kid if you think it would help.”
Her mother chuckled. “Probably not. We can’t nail his hide to the wall for that, but I’ve decided I won’t make this process easy for him. He’s going to pay dearly for the mental anguish he’s caused us.”
Emily was tempted to point out that her mother had caused her mental anguish too, but that wouldn’t help matters. “Don’t turn it into World War III. That won’t be good for anybody.”
“Perhaps not, but winning a few battles to show him he can’t walk on me will be extremely satisfying. Now, I should go. I have a meeting in ten minutes. It will be good to see you when you come to Dallas. Oh, I forgot to ask. How is your project coming along?”
“It’s going well. Amazingly well.” She quickly filled her in on Chance donating a building and about the Bradley-Tucker House. “We’ve finished cataloging everything, and I’ve started setting up exhibits at the museum.”
“Will you be there longer than originally planned?”
“Yes. Until the first of June.” Unless she and Chance stayed there after they got married.
“Have you heard about the new McGovern Museum here in Dallas?”
“Yes, ma’am. I interviewed for the assistant curator position a couple of weeks ago. I’m in the final three, but I don’t know when they’ll make a decision.”
“So that’s why you were in Dallas. I’m sorry I couldn’t do lunch.”
“It’s okay. Your secretary explained that you had an emergency.”
“What a mess. I don’t want to even think about it. I hope you get the new job. It’s ridiculous for you to keep working on these small-town, inconsequential projects. Since you’re determined to do this museum thing, you need to be involved in something worth your time and education.”
Emily bit back an angry retort. “Callahan Crossing’s museum is worthwhile to the people who live here, and it will be to those who visit.” Thankfully, her irritation didn’t come across in her voice. “The town and the museum may be small, but they have a rich history that’s worth preserving. I’m not wasting my time or my education. And it adds to my resume.”
She was also having the most wonderful time of her life.
“Your resume will stand out much more if you’re an assistant at the McGovern.”
“True.” Emily didn’t want to get into the same old argument.
“I hope it works out for you.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ve been thinking about how lovely it is on the Riviera this time of year. All those handsome, tanned young men . . .”
“Mom!”
“Don’t be such a prude, Emily. I’m free now. Not legally but in every other way. If I want to have dinner with a handsome man, I will.”
Emily wasn’t so sure her mother would stop at dinner, but she didn’t dare say anything about it. They didn’t share the same beliefs. Nothing would stir her mother’s ire quicker than if she thought Emily was preaching at her. “Just make him old enough to be my father, or at least close to it. I’ll have to see a psychiatrist if both my parents date people my age.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” her mother said dryly. “Ciao, dear.”
“Bye, Mom.” Emily hung up and laid the phone on the table. “I’m a coward.” Miranda was practically dancing with joy, which had Emily mildly unnerved. Still, she was afraid telling her mother about the engagement would be overload.
Looking down at her ring, she blew out a deep breath. “Guess she’ll learn I’m getting married when I wave this lovely ring in her face.”
26
That evening, Chance was channel surfing on the muted TV when he heard a knock at the back door, followed by it opening and Emily calling his name.
“I’m in the living room.” He hopped up and walked into the kitchen as she came in.
“Hi, darlin’. I thought you were going to the Ladies’ Night Out at church.”
“I begged off with a headache.”
He studied her white, drawn face and decided more than a headache was bothering her. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“My parents are getting a divorce.”
“Aw, Emily. I’m sorry to hear that.” He drew her into his arms and held her close for a minute. “Let’s go sit in the living room. Do you want something to drink?”
She lowered her hands to her sides. “Do you have any hot chocolate?”
Not what he’d choose on a warm spring day, but if that’s what she wanted, that’s what she’d get. “If a mix is okay.”
“Sure. Just go heavy on the chocolate.”
“When did you find out about your folks?” He retrieved the milk from the refrigerator and the can of hot chocolate mix from the pantry.
“This morning when I called Mom.” She stuffed her hands into her jean pockets.
Taking a mug from the cabinet, he spooned a generous amount of the mix into it. “Isn’t today her birthday?”
“Yes. She’d heard he was having an affair and confronted him about it.”
Chance grimaced as he added milk to the mug. “Not a great way to celebrate a birthday.”
Emily watched as he put the mug into the microwave to heat. “I think it is for her. She sounded slightly subdued when we first started talking. Said she was having a bit of an introspective day. But after she told me they were splitting up, she sounded brighter, happier.”
“Maybe she was worried about telling you.” The microwave beeped and he removed the mug. He stirred the hot chocolate until all the lumps disappeared. “Want marshmallows?” She shook her head. “A shot of whipped cream?”
That earned him a small, but real, smile. “That would be nice.”
He took the can of cream from the fridge and squirted a big thick white swirl on top of the chocolate. “You’re liable to h
ave a moo-stash.”
“Is that what Zach calls it?”
He nodded and handed her the cup. “Only he stretches out the moo part. Do you want a spoon?”
“No, thanks. The cream will fall flat in a few minutes anyway.”
Chance grabbed a paper napkin from a drawer, handed it to her, and motioned toward the living room. He could always offer to lick off her milk moustache, but that wouldn’t be very polite even on a normal day. Fun, but not GC – gentlemanly correct – a phrase he had just made up, but one he thought his mother would like. Emily was feeling low tonight and probably vulnerable. He needed to be extra careful that offering comfort didn’t lead to anything else. Wisdom courtesy of a lesson learned by Grandpa Aidan.
She sat down on the couch, and he joined her, clicking off the television. Taking a sip of the hot chocolate, she wound up with a white dab on the tip of her nose. “Maybe the whipped cream wasn’t such a good idea.”
“Sorry.” He watched her swipe it off with the napkin. There had to be some good in a man who could craft such a perfect nose. Maybe being a fine plastic surgeon was his only redeeming quality. “So your mom’s okay with the divorce. What about your dad?”
“I don’t know. He’s moving out. Mom said he’s probably going to move in with his girlfriend, so I assume he’s happy. I suppose I should call him, but my feelings or opinions have never mattered to him. And I don’t think I could talk to him calmly. I want to scream at him for being such a jerk.” She took another sip of cocoa, managing not to coat her nose this time.
“That’s understandable. Not only is he in the wrong, but he’s hurting other people. Maybe not your mother so much but you.”
She pushed her tennis shoes off with her toes and propped her green-sock-covered feet up on the coffee table. “That’s what I can’t figure out. I shouldn’t care. I don’t think I’ve ever loved him. I know I’ve never liked him. It’s wrong and sad, but I don’t want to ever see him again.”
“Right now.” He put his feet on the coffee table too. Big white socks next to green ones. Nice and homey. “You’ll change your mind after things have settled down.”
“I don’t think so. After staying with Dub and Sue, it’s only worse. Y’all love each other and get along so well. Your dad is such a good man, and he has a wonderful relationship with all of you, including Nate. Even before this last news, I was jealous of what y’all have.”
Chance drank some iced tea, pondering whether or not to share a few family secrets. In reality, they weren’t really all that secret from anyone who had known them for a long time. And she was going to be a member of the family. “Dad wasn’t always the loving, patient man he is today. When we were growing up, he was more like a tyrant, and he had a quick temper.”
“You’re kidding.” Setting her mug on the table, she shifted around until she faced him, curling her legs up on the couch. “That’s hard to imagine.”
“He’s mellowed the last fifteen years. When we were younger, we knew he loved us, but the least little thing could make him angry as a teased rattlesnake. He was a controller too. Nate recently told me that during high school, Dad caught him watchin’ Jenna with his heart in his eyes. She’s always been Dad’s princess, and he was determined she was going to marry somebody important. He flat out told Nate that he wasn’t good enough for her.”
“And Nate believed him?”
“We’d all been friends since we were little, but he was working here at the time. Coming from the boss, who was also her dad, maybe had more impact. He was just a kid, and in awe of my old man. In awe of Jenna too, I think, despite being close. He also considered her the Callahan princess and figured he could never give her the kind of life she deserved.”
“But they’re so happy. Everybody can see that they’re perfect for each other.”
“Now. They might not have been back then. I’m a firm believer that love can overcome just about any obstacle, but I expect they both needed to do some growing up before they could make a go of marriage. It’s a shame they had to experience a lot of heartache before they found each other again.”
She picked up her cup. “What changed your dad?”
“The Lord mostly. And Pastor Brad. Last fall, when Nate was going through a rough time due to PTSD – post-traumatic stress disorder – us kids learned that Dad had it too, from Viet Nam. The folks had known he had a problem for years, though for a long time they didn’t know what it was. They worked through things mostly on their own with God’s help.
“Later, they asked others to pray for them and went to Pastor Brad for counseling. The pastor has special training to work with people with PTSD, but he uses prayer and seeks the Lord’s guidance too. God has used it all, plus some direct healing, to make Dad the man he is today.”
“I never would have guessed anything like that had gone on.” She was quiet for a few minutes, her expression thoughtful as she drank her hot chocolate. “I don’t think my father is capable of truly caring about anyone else.”
“What about his patients?”
“Not the rich women who come to him to look younger. That’s all about money and pride, but he takes some cases for free. People who’ve been in accidents or have deformities.”
“So he’s not all bad.”
“I suppose not. But I’ve never seen that goodness when it comes to family. Maybe that’s what happens when a marriage is based on business and lust. By the time I was in middle school, I figured out I was born six months after the wedding. I weighed seven pounds, so nobody could claim I was a preemie.
“I’ve tried all my life to please my dad, but he’s never told me he was proud of me. Not once. He’s never praised me for doing something well, no matter what I achieved. I’ve never been pretty enough, smart enough, anything enough.”
“Maybe he felt forced into marriage and wrongly blames you.”
She nodded, curling both hands around the mug. “I think he does. Mom told me once that before they got married he wanted her to have an abortion, but she refused. He thinks she did it to trap him, but she didn’t. She would have kept me even if they hadn’t gotten married.”
“Who’s the girlfriend?” He wished Emily would turn back around and scoot over next to him.
“A model with Mom’s agency.”
Chance winced and shook his head. “That’s low.”
“It gets worse. She’s twenty-four. Two years younger than me.”
He stared at her. “You’re kidding.”
“Afraid not.”
“That’s reason enough right there to be mad at him.” And hurt. “It has to be embarrassing.”
“It is. Plus she’s done covers and runway, which means she’s gorgeous.”
And once again, Emily wouldn’t measure up in her father’s eyes. Chance supposed it didn’t matter much right now that he thought she was the most wonderful woman in the world. He reached over and took the mug from her hands, setting it on the table. “Come here.”
When she unwound her legs and slid over next to him, he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “The only reason for you to be embarrassed is because your father is making a fool of himself. I may be a country boy, but I’ve been around the high and mighty some. When it comes right down to it, they aren’t much different than anybody else when a man pulls a stunt like your dad has.
“They may be polite to his face and act like he hasn’t done anything wrong, but they’ll be talkin’ plenty behind his back. The women will scorn him for what he’s done to your mother and you and ridicule him for robbing the cradle. The men will congratulate him on his conquest, then mock him because he got taken in by a gold digger.
“You’re a strong woman, Emily.” He lightly caressed her arm. “And you have the Lord to help you through this. I know you’re praying for wisdom and guidance, and I’ll do the same for you. It may be a while before you can talk to your dad one-on-one, but you’ll go to that gala with your head held high. You’ll be so beautiful and gracious
that people will be in awe. If Clark shows up with his girlfriend, or insults you in some other way, I’ll deck him.”
She giggled and shifted her position, sliding her arms around his waist. “That would certainly stir things up, especially if you broke his nose. Who’d he get to fix it?”
“He’d probably try to do it himself. I wouldn’t really hit him, even if I wanted to.”
“I know. But I appreciate the thought.” She looked up at him. “Does that make me bloodthirsty?”
“I think it makes you human.”
“But not very Christlike,” she said with a sigh, resting her head on his shoulder, her hair brushing his jaw.
“Suppose not. Are you going to visit your mother? Have some of that girl time you were talking about on the picnic?”
“She wants us to have lunch with her on Sunday after the party. Then she’s going to spend some time on the French Riviera. I wouldn’t put it past her to bring a handsome man home with her. She’s a beautiful woman. All she has to do is smile, and men of all ages trip all over themselves to do her bidding. Of course, she might take one look at you and decide you’re the one she wants.”
Chance chuckled and felt her hand flutter against his chest. “Won’t do her any good. The only woman I’m interested in is about to be kissed.”
Emily lifted her head and looked up at him, her eyes alight with love. “She is?”
“I intend to do a thorough job of it too.”
And he did – within GC constraints, of course.
27
Ten days later as Emily dressed for the gala, she was still thinking about the day she’d heard about her parents’ divorce. More specifically, she was remembering that evening when she’d gone to see Chance.
Hurting, angry, and needy, she’d turned to him for solace. And he had given it. The man had a way with comfort food. Macaroni and cheese or scrambled egg sandwiches for Jenna. Hot chocolate with whipped cream for her, despite it being sixty degrees outside.
More importantly, he had listened to her words and seen into her heart. He’d been angry on her behalf, ready to defend her against the one man who could wound her like no other. He had offered insight and words of wisdom, encouraged her when she felt beaten down, and brightened the darkness of a difficult day.
Emily's Chance (v5) Page 26
