“Yep. Say goodbye to that inheritance, Danny. No hardware store for you. Glad you’ve got that politicking gig to fall back on.”
Daniel listened to the details of the sale while his brain kept going back to how strange his day had been. Starting with the best news this morning when Alex agreed to go out with him again, and ending with the biggest scare of his life. This day had been a perfect example of life’s highs and lows. And despite everything, he couldn’t wait until tomorrow.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE BRISTOL FALLS INN was as lovely as Alex remembered it from her childhood when her parents brought the whole family there to celebrate birthdays and anniversaries. The inn was a special place filled with happy memories, but nothing could compare with the memory she was making tonight, because after the salad course and one glass of wine, she was quite certain she was falling in love.
How can this be happening? she asked herself. Teddy had been gone only a few months. She’d loved Teddy. Admired and respected him. But this was different. Exciting, passionate, thrilling. She quite literally couldn’t tear her gaze from Daniel’s face in the candle’s dim glow.
They talked about that summer, not the intimate details, but the fun, crazy times they’d had. They talked about The Music Man and the frenetic pace of getting ready for opening night. They talked about politics and Daniel’s plans for the district, all the ideas he had for making life better in his district and the state in general.
His voice hypnotized her; his eyes held her transfixed; her mind recognized the goodness in him, and her heart opened to let him in again. In a little over a week he would return to Columbus, but she knew that until he had to go, she was his, for however many times he wanted to see her. And then, if they had a future, she would tell him the truth about Lizzie. And if they didn’t have a future, if he didn’t feel for her what she felt for him, she still would tell him.
Alex felt empowered by her decisions. Battling with her conscience was killing her, quite literally starving her of her confidence, her belief in herself. She might have gone on keeping her secret, right or wrong, if she hadn’t seen Daniel again, but being with him like this changed everything. Daniel’s compassion for his constituents, his balanced way of looking at the world, had taught her this. And he deserved to know he was the father of a very remarkable young lady.
Later, when Daniel took her home, his kiss was gentle, his arms strong and comforting. Alex was able to give in to his embraces without examining all the consequences of getting close to him again, without experiencing all the guilt that came with the pure enjoyment of being in his arms. She had made up her mind. Now she just had to wait for the right time to tell him and hope that he would try to understand.
“I’ll be here through opening night,” he said as he walked her to the door. “I’m leaving on Saturday morning after the cast party.” Slipping his arm around her shoulders, he added, “Of course, Columbus is just three hours away, Alex, maybe less if I break the speed limit on Friday afternoons.”
She laughed. “I don’t want to be responsible for our newest senator ending up in jail for reckless driving.”
At the door, he pulled her close. She laid her head against his chest, relishing the warmth of his hands on her back.
“I have three more town meetings before I go,” he said. “But when I’m not talking to crowds of people, I want to be with just one person only. Let’s make the most of these last days, okay?”
She looked into his eyes and smiled. “I’m in.”
He kissed her thoroughly, sealing the pact they’d made. “Call you tomorrow.”
She went into the house and found Lizzie, Jude and Wesley watching a movie in the family room. “Where’s Dad?” Alex asked.
Jude pointed toward the window. “He’s at Aurora’s place.” She smirked. “Just left before you got home. If I didn’t know Dad so well, I’d think they had a thing going on.”
“Dad?” Alex shook her head. “No way.”
“I know, but he must find something awfully fascinating at her house.”
“How was your date, Mom?” Lizzie asked.
“Great. The dinner was wonderful.” She sat next to her daughter on the couch and for one fleeting moment wished she weren’t the older, responsible sister, the mother, the aunt. She longed to be just a girl again and admit that the food, as terrific as it was, was the least wonderful thing about the date.
But then she looked into Lizzie’s eyes and realized that the decision she’d made earlier was going to change her daughter’s life. And all at once the burdensome weight of responsibility settled on her shoulders again.
* * *
AS HE TURNED into Aurora’s drive, Martin thought about her voice on the phone. Normally so self-assured, she’d sounded frightened, nervous. “Marty, this is Aurora. I’m sorry to bother you but I’ve had a little mishap.”
“I’ll be right over,” he’d said.
He tried the front door, knocked and called Aurora’s name.
“Around back,” she answered. “The door’s unlocked.”
He scurried around the side of the house, watching his step so he wouldn’t stumble over contractor supplies. His worry increased when Aurora didn’t meet him at the door. He turned the latch and entered. “Aurora?”
“Over here,” she called from the direction of the pantry.
He rushed over and found her lying under a shelf unit and surrounded by canned goods, her body visible from only the waist up. “Good heavens. What happened?”
“Darned leg,” she said. “I was climbing up the shelf to store items on the top when my ankle gave out. I slipped and pulled the whole dang thing down on top of me.”
He cleared a path to be able to remove the shelf. His voice was breathless when he asked, “Are you hurt?”
“I sure am,” she replied. “My pride and my dignity have been torn to shreds.”
He smiled. “I’d say your common sense suffered a blow, as well. Why in the world would you climb up a shelf? Why didn’t you use a stepladder?”
“I do this all the time,” she explained. “Never had a shelf and about a hundred cans fall on top of me before.”
He grunted, lifted the shelf. “Can’t say that I don’t wonder why not.”
Picking her up by her shoulders, he assisted her to a kitchen chair and immediately began flexing her limbs and checking for injuries.
“I’m fine. Quit fussing. I just couldn’t get my arms free to move the shelf. Might have lain here all night until the construction crew arrived if I hadn’t called you.” She patted her trusty cell phone.
“At the risk of wasting my breath again, I should ask, do you want to go to the hospital?”
“No. I’m okay. You can go. And thanks.”
He stood with his hands on his hips, looking down at her. She was quite a contrast from Maggie, who was nearly as tall as he was and pleasantly filled out from years of her own great cooking. Maggie was a large, comfortable woman, but there was something to be said for Aurora’s petite angles.
“Aren’t you even going to offer me a cup of coffee?” he asked. “I’ll make it.”
She laughed. “Sure, but I’d suggest green tea for this hour of the night. Coffee will keep you up.”
“Ugh, tea!” he said, plugging in her coffeemaker. “Where’s the coffee?”
She looked at the pile of cans on the floor. “Somewhere in that mess.”
He found the appropriate can and made a half pot. Despite her warning, she had a cup with him. “I appreciate your help tonight, Marty, and the other night, too. I promise you won’t have to play my knight in shining armor in the future. I’ll think before I do something stupid.”
He took a sip, set the mug down on her table. “I don’t mean to harp on this, Aurora, but I really think you should have someone
stay with you until the inn is up and running. A friend, maybe.”
Her face clouded. She looked down at her coffee. “I don’t like putting people out.” As if more explanation was needed, she added, “Everyone I know is busy with their own lives. You must understand how that is.”
He did. His life was two-thirds perfect right now since Alexis had come home. Jude was a constant concern, but she was less than a mile away. And Carrie—he never stopped worrying about his youngest daughter. She had such high, impractical hopes, but her poor body couldn’t keep up with the goals her ambition demanded. Why a bright young woman like his sweet Carrie would ignore her asthma to live in nature was a mystery to him. He tried at least once a month to get her to come home.
“I do understand,” he said. “If you promise to be careful, I promise to come over when you bury yourself in groceries. But don’t dig that grave during the daytime when I’m at work.”
She chuckled. “You’re a good friend, Marty. I’m sorry I was so hard on you that first day when I brought your dog back.”
“Correction. My daughter’s dog. I like the mutt, but I don’t claim any ownership.” He glanced toward the back door. “I see you have the security system installed.”
“Took your advice. Makes me sleep easier.”
“Good. Now I’ll give you some more advice. Have one of these construction guys nail that shelf to the wall.”
“I will.”
He got up to leave. “I meant what I said, Aurora. Call if you need anything. If I’m home I’ll come help you.”
She nodded. “If things get too hectic over at your place, you’ve earned yourself a free night in the Howard Taft Bedroom. One thing I can offer here is peace and quiet.”
“Do I have to drink tea?”
She laughed. “No.”
“My wife is a tea drinker, though not so much anymore.”
Aurora’s expression changed. She blinked, looked away.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“Of course not.”
“You did know I was married.”
“Sure.” She shook her head slightly. “Doesn’t matter to me one way or the other, though I guess I’m a little surprised you never talk about your wife.”
“She’s ill. I take care of her.”
“Admirably, I’m sure,” Aurora said. “But you certainly don’t have to take care of me, so you should run on home.”
He thought about explaining more of his situation to her, but decided against it. “Good night, then.” He opened the back door. “Lock up after I leave.”
“Will do.”
As he drove home, he thought about what she’d called him, her knight in shining armor. He’d often considered that the reference might apply to him. He enjoyed helping people. He wanted his daughters to rely on him, his patients to know they could trust him with their lives. But his poor Maggie, locked and lost in the blankness of her mind. He hadn’t been able to help Maggie, and his heart broke a little more every day when he had to face that failure. All the doctors and medicine in the world couldn’t stop her decline.
But it wasn’t in his nature to stop lending a hand. And when he thought about the strong but soft hand belonging to Aurora Spindell, the one that had wrapped around his arm when he walked her to a chair, he smiled, though he told himself not to enjoy helping Aurora too much. He was, as he’d just admitted, a married man.
* * *
ON THE FOLLOWING Thursday night, the dress rehearsal for The Music Man went very well. Alex was there with Daniel. They shared the auditorium seats with approximately fifty honored guests, critics from local publications, the mayor, the chief of police and relatives of the cast. By this time, Alex had become so comfortable with Daniel that it seemed the years that had separated them were only a distant memory. They had gone to dinner twice, a movie once and another picnic, this time at Dancing Falls, near where the twenty-foot waterfall cascaded down the boulders at the back of her family’s property. Alex loved the scenic spot. As waterfalls went, it was unimpressive. But as a date, the picnic had been spectacular.
They sat watching the musical, their shoulders touching, their whispered comments only positive.
“Isn’t Lizzie just perfect for that part?” Alex said. As soon as she spoke, she felt remorse because he could be sharing in Lizzie’s success on a far more personal level—as her father. Soon, Alex thought. She and Daniel were growing closer every day. She was almost ready to trust him with the most intimate details of her life, including this one.
“She’s wonderful,” he said. “And she seems to be in her element up there on stage.”
“This has been a terrific experience for her. She’s been so happy and involved. This play has done more than any of the antidepressants the doctor gave her after Teddy died. I feel so much better about sending her off to college in the fall.”
When the cast came on stage for a last bow, Glen rushed down the stairs to grab Daniel. He brought him on stage and introduced him as his right-hand man and the state’s newest and brightest star in Columbus. In typical fashion, Daniel minimized his importance in the production and reminded the audience that he would be back on duty in the capital on Monday. And then he disappeared behind the curtain with the actors.
Alex watched the crowd file out of the theater and waited patiently for Daniel to return. They would take Lizzie for ice cream to celebrate and then drop her off at Dancing Falls so the two of them could have some alone time. Alex checked her watch. She’d waited for almost fifteen minutes and wondered what was taking so long backstage. She decided to give them fifteen minutes more and then she’d investigate.
* * *
DANIEL CONGRATULATED ALL the actors, but he hugged Lizzie.
“I couldn’t have done this without you,” she said. “You ran lines with me and helped me with my dance moves. Thank you, thank you, Daniel. This has been so much fun, the best summer ever!”
He laughed. “Wow, we could use more of that enthusiasm for summer stock theater around here. Maybe you’ll come back next year for whatever production Glen has in mind for the Red Barn.”
“Or maybe I’ll come back sooner,” she said, her face breaking into a grin.
“What do you mean, Lizzie?”
She took his hand. “Come with me, Daniel. I have to talk to someone, and you’re it.”
He followed her to a quiet corner of the prop room, where she turned over two flowerpots for them to sit on. “I’m glad Mom isn’t here,” she said. “I’m glad it’s just you and me.”
His inner warning bell sounded a faint alarm. Was this going to be news he shouldn’t be hearing? What did he know about communicating with a teenager?
“Lizzie, your mom is here. She’s in the theater waiting for us.”
“I know. But what I want to say is just between you and me.”
He decided the most expedient way to deal with this was to hear her out. “Okay, what’s on your mind?”
She took a deep breath. “I want to go to drama school, Daniel. I know now that this is what I was born to do. I want to act. I need to act. I had to tell someone, and since you and I share a love of the theater, I knew you’d understand.”
Oh, he understood, all right. He understood that Alex was likely to be devastated when she heard of Lizzie’s change of heart. Many of their conversations had been about her daughter’s future. He cleared his throat. This conversation was a bit like walking on quicksand. “Have you considered that maybe this decision is based on the excitement of the moment, Lizzie? Maybe you should wait until the play’s run is over and then rethink the whole thing.”
She clasped her hands in her lap. “I could think about this from now until I’m a dithering old woman and I wouldn’t change my mind. I’ll still go to college, but I’m going to learn to be an actor.”
/> “I’m assuming you haven’t told your mother this plan,” he said.
“Not yet, but I’m going to.”
“She seems pretty set on you going to Bryn Mawr.”
“I know, but that’s just it. She’s set on it. My father’s mother graduated from that university, and from the time I was maybe three years old, that’s all I heard about. Bryn Mawr. ‘Lizzie’s going to Bryn Mawr.’”
“It’s a fine school,” Daniel said.
“It is, I know that, but I want to go somewhere else.”
“Have you investigated other schools?”
She smiled. “You bet. I went online and looked up the Department of Theater at Ohio State University. It’s wonderful, Daniel. They do a full range of drama training, and the students get to write their own plays, direct and act in them.”
Daniel knew about the theater department. He’d thought about going there himself when he finished his summers at Birch Shore. At the time, he’d had aspirations similar to Lizzie’s. The excitement of the resort stage, the lights, the applause—it had all combined to make him seriously consider acting as a career choice. He wasn’t sorry he’d opted for political science, but always in the back of his mind was the question, “What if...?”
“It sounds like a fine program,” he admitted. “Still, you need to discuss this with your mother.”
“Of course, and I will. But I bet she’ll be much more receptive to the idea if I have your backing.”
He choked on his next breath. “My backing? What difference will that make? I don’t have any say in your future.”
“But you and Mom, you’re dating and getting on so well. She’ll listen to you.”
He took a moment to think. “You know, Lizzie, I feel a bit like I’m being railroaded here, as if you’re using my relationship with your mother to help you get your way. I’m not comfortable being in this position.”
“But you said I have talent, right? Be honest with me.”
A Boy to Remember Page 10
