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A Year of Extraordinary Moments (A Magnolia Grove Novel)

Page 8

by Bette Lee Crosby


  Hoping to change the subject, Dominic said, “The coffee’s done, Grandma.”

  “So it is.” She stood, filled two cups, and carried them to the table, setting one in front of Dominic. She stirred a spoonful of sugar into her cup, then began.

  “As much as I loved your granddaddy, I knew we’d never have gotten married if it weren’t for Daddy DeLuca insisting Joe do the right thing; then Joe and I both would have missed out on a good life. I owe Daddy DeLuca a lot, and I’m going to do what I know he would want me to do.”

  “What’s that?” Dominic asked.

  “I’m going to make sure this farm is handed down to the next heir.”

  Dominic started to smile, but then he noticed she wasn’t smiling.

  Alice took a small sip of coffee, then continued. “I’m afraid you’re a lot like your granddaddy, Dominic. You’ve got a fine family staring you in the face, but you’re not willing to admit it. The Briggs girl would make you a good wife, but if you won’t take responsibility for your son and do the right thing, then I’ll have to do it for you.”

  “Wait a minute, Grandma . . .”

  “This wasn’t an easy decision, Dominic; I’ve given it a lot of thought and . . .” She hesitated a moment, glanced down at the narrow gold band she still wore, and grimaced. “I’m going to change my will and leave the farm to your son, because I think it’s what your great-granddaddy would have wanted.”

  A sudden sense of desperation washed over Dominic. Nothing was going the way he thought it would. He lowered his face into his palms, sat hunched over the table, and began to sob.

  After a night of drinking, crying came easy. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the tears to roll down his cheeks. Then, once he was certain she was watching, he brushed them back.

  “It’s not what you think,” he finally said. “The reason Tracy and I broke up is because she was cheating on me with another guy. I’m not the daddy of that little boy. He is!”

  Such news stunned Alice, and it was several seconds before she responded. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  Although the tears had already dried, Dominic again brushed the back of his hand across his cheek. “I didn’t want to admit she’d made a fool out of me.”

  Not knowing when to leave well enough alone, he continued, embellishing the story more and more as he went. He told of how he’d come home from a hard day at work and found another man in his bed and how he’d pleaded with Tracy to reconsider her actions.

  “I know you think her son looks like me,” he said, “but if you’d seen this other guy, you’d know right away that’s who Lucas really looks like.”

  Alice listened but said nothing.

  Once he was on a roll, Dominic went on to describe all that had happened. He even included a description of the would-be lover who, oddly enough, resembled himself down to the last detail. The only difference was the lover wore a gold ring and drove a Cadillac with leather upholstery.

  22

  Alice DeLuca

  It’s a painful thing to suspect a boy you’ve loved since the day he was born would look you in the eye and lie about something this important. I want to believe Dominic, but the sorry truth is I have my doubts.

  Not at first, mind you. When I saw the tears rolling down his cheeks and he told about how Tracy Briggs had cheated on him, I thought my heart would break. But as he went on describing everything in such detail, I became suspicious.

  The more he told, the more I doubted him. It simply made no sense. If Dominic walked in and found the woman he supposedly loved with another man, I can’t for the life of me imagine he’d be calm enough to make note of what jewelry the man was wearing. It generally holds true that when a person is telling a lie, he’s careful about the story, tying up the loose ends nice and tidy. A person telling the truth is so overwhelmed by heartbreak they don’t notice those things.

  I owe it to Daddy DeLuca to find out the truth. If that boy is Dominic’s son, he should have what Daddy DeLuca intended him to have. And if, perchance, what Dominic said is true, then I’ll have to set my doubts aside.

  The problem is that I’ve never met Tracy Briggs, so I can’t just walk up and ask if her boy is Dominic’s son. And suppose I did, then what? If she says yes, I’d be faced with the decision of believing her or my own grandson.

  As far as I can see, there’s only one way to get to the truth of the matter, and as much as it goes against my grain, I’ve got to do it. Tomorrow, I’m calling Charlie and telling him to bring over the card he has from that private investigator.

  23

  In Search of Answers

  That night, Dominic went to bed satisfied with his performance, certain he’d convinced his grandma Lucas was not his child. Given the look of sadness that settled on her face, he was almost positive whatever thoughts she’d had about leaving the farm to Lucas were now forgotten. In the early hours of the morning, he heard the cock crow, but since there was no urgent need to check on things, he rolled over and went back to sleep.

  Alice was awake long before she heard the cry of the rooster. It was early, too early to call, but when she couldn’t wait any longer, she dialed Charlie Barnes’s number. Charlie answered with a sleepy-sounding hello.

  Without waiting for anything more, Alice said, “Remember that man you told me about? The investigator? The one you said could find out—”

  “Alice, is that you? What time is it?”

  “Five thirty, and of course it’s me. I know it’s early, but this is important.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, Charlie, I’m fine, but I need your help.”

  She reminded him that a few weeks earlier, when she’d wondered if there might be more to the story than she suspected, he’d suggested a private investigator with a good reputation.

  “I know I said I wasn’t interested, but as it turns out, I am. Could you arrange a meeting with that gentleman?”

  “Well, sure,” Charlie said apprehensively, “but is this really what you want?”

  “It’s not what I want, but unfortunately, it’s what I have to do.”

  At ten thirty that morning, while Dominic was still sound asleep, Alice climbed into Charlie’s car, and they headed for Oakdale. The office of Tompkins Investigative Services was smack in the center of town. Charlie parked in front of the redbrick building.

  “This is it,” he said. “Floyd is on the third floor.”

  “You’re coming with me, aren’t you?”

  Charlie gave an easy grin. “Only if you want me to.”

  “You know I do.” Alice climbed out of the car and banged the door shut.

  “Well, I thought it possible you might want privacy.”

  She turned and gave him a hard glare. “Charlie Barnes! You know good and well we have no secrets! If I can’t trust you, then I can’t trust anyone.”

  Alice continued to talk as she followed him into the elevator, but when they stepped out on the third floor, she stopped in the middle of a sentence.

  “Oh, dear,” she said solemnly. “I hope I don’t regret this.”

  Charlie hooked his arm through hers. “There’s no right or wrong here, Alice. Find out the truth, then do what your heart tells you to do.”

  She recalled having these same mixed feelings after Dominic’s mama disappeared. At the time, she’d considered hiring an investigator to search for Dorothy but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Dorothy was her daughter. Family. It seemed terribly wrong to track down your own daughter as if she were a common criminal.

  Back then, Alice held on to the hope that Dorothy would one day return. All those years, she’d believed the bond of family was strong enough to overcome any opposing forces. Now she was no longer sure.

  “I’m not going to make the same mistake again,” she said and gave a sorrowful sigh as she pushed through the door.

  Floyd Tompkins did not look anything like what Alice expected. He was skinny as a stick with a bald head and nonexist
ent eyebrows. He stood and motioned to the chairs in front of his desk.

  “Have a seat.”

  The sight of him unnerved Alice. She’d expected someone taller, more capable of taking command of the situation, a man with broad shoulders and a healthy head of hair.

  “I’m not all that certain I should even be here,” she said apologetically. “It’s possible I’ve made a mistake.”

  He sat and again motioned for her to sit. “Well, there’s no consultation fee, so why don’t we talk about your problem, then you can decide whether or not to move forward.”

  Alice gave an uncertain nod and started by saying it had been fifteen years since she’d received even a postcard from her daughter and eighteen years since she’d seen her. “That was the last time Dorothy was home for a visit. She came with her son, who was twelve at the time. After a few months, she told me she wanted to go see about a job. ‘Let Dominic stay here with you, Mama,’ she said. ‘I’ll be back to pick him up in a week or so.’” Alice hesitated for a moment, then pulled a hankie from her purse and blotted her eyes. “I think Dorothy already knew she wasn’t ever coming back.”

  Even without eyebrows, Floyd Tompkins had an understanding face. When he sympathized with her and said he could understand how such a thing could tear at a mother’s heart, Alice found herself starting to like him.

  “I don’t want you to waste your money,” he said, “so you need to know finding someone who doesn’t want to be found can be very time-intensive, and there’s no guarantee—”

  Alice leaned forward and cut in. “This isn’t about Dorothy. I gave up looking for her years ago; it’s her son I’m concerned about.”

  She explained how at first she’d believed Dominic was her only remaining heir, the one to whom she’d bequeath the farm, but recently she’d learned of a boy who may or may not be his son.

  “Unfortunately Dorothy’s boy is a lot like his granddaddy when it comes to owning up to his responsibility . . .” She let that thought hang in the air for a moment, then added, “If he won’t do what’s right, then I’ll have to do it for him.”

  Floyd gave a solemn nod. “I hear you.”

  She told the story as she knew it, including Dominic’s claim that Tracy Briggs had a lover who’d fathered the boy.

  “I need to know the truth,” she said, “regardless of how unpleasant it is.”

  They talked for nearly an hour with Floyd asking question after question and making note of her answers. Alice gave him what information she had, but at times it seemed pitifully little. She knew Dominic had worked in a bar, but she no longer remembered the name of it. She also knew Tracy and Dominic had lived together in Philadelphia but did not have the address of the building. She was pretty certain they’d never been married or divorced but was positive that Tracy and the boy were now living in Magnolia Grove. She had a picture of Dominic that had been taken over five years ago, but none of Tracy or the boy.

  Floyd explained his fee was sixty dollars an hour, plus mileage and out-of-pocket expenses.

  “There’s some legwork involved here, so it will be two or three weeks before I can get back to you. Is that okay?”

  “I suppose.” Her answer was weighted with the sound of disappointment.

  “And I’ll need a ten-hour retainer.”

  Alice pulled a folded check from her purse and began writing with a shaky hand.

  “How many hours do you think it will take to find out about the child?” she asked nervously.

  Floyd heard the quiver in her voice, eyed the thin gold band on her finger, and saw the worn patches of leather on her purse. It seemed obvious she was a grandmother with a lot of love, but not a lot of money. He flipped through the pages of his scheduling calendar and saw he’d be working on a big-money divorce case most of the coming week. In the few scattered open spots, he penciled in DeLuca.

  “Offhand I’d say it shouldn’t take more than ten hours.”

  “Oh, that would be wonderful.” Alice handed him the check. “Now if it’s more, please let me know. I’m not a wealthy woman, but I don’t want you to scrimp on trying to find out the truth.”

  He gave an understanding smile. “No worries about that,” he said. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I have something.”

  On the drive home, Alice sat looking out the windshield as if she saw something other than the road. There was a big black bug splatter, but other than that, there was only the blacktop road and endless stretches of peanut fields waiting for harvest.

  “Anything you want to talk about?” Charlie asked.

  She shook her head almost imperceptibly. “No, it’s just that . . .”

  He waited a long moment, then when she remained silent, asked, “Just what?”

  She turned to him, her eyes dulled by sadness. “Just that you’d think a grandmother ought to know more about her own grandson.” A sigh floated up from her chest. “Dominic has a hard shell around him, the same as Joe did. When a man’s built a shell around his feelings, you get to see the outside, but never the inside.”

  “But you knew Joe loved you, didn’t you, Alice?”

  “I suppose,” she said, then sat quietly for the remainder of the trip.

  24

  The Sweetest Season

  After the awards dinner, Tracy and Gabriel began dating on a regular basis. They saw each other almost every Saturday night and Sunday afternoon. What had been obvious to Gabriel from the start came as a surprise to Tracy.

  On the first Sunday of June, they picnicked at the lake and afterward sat watching Lucas toss bits of bread to the ducks. In the whole of her life, Tracy had never felt contentment greater than this. She could now say she was happy, truly happy.

  Everything she’d ever wished for was right here in this moment. She looked up and let her eyes take in the beauty of Gabriel’s face. As she gazed up at him, he bent and pressed his mouth to hers. The kiss was sweet and tender; it lingered for a moment, soft and warm on her lips, then was gone.

  When he moved back, a sigh of contentment floated up from her chest, and she voiced the thought that came with it.

  “Isn’t it strange that we went all those years not realizing how right we were for each other?”

  Gabriel laughed. “Not strange to me. Remember that first Thanksgiving Day when I had dinner at your mama’s house?”

  She nodded.

  “That evening when we sat outside by the bonfire, I watched you holding Lucas in your lap and knew it would be easy to fall in love with you.”

  The memory of that day settled in Tracy’s heart with a warm glow. She recalled how good it had felt when Gabriel draped an arm around her shoulder as they walked to the backyard, and how he’d later scooted his chair closer to hers. All along, she’d been telling herself she wasn’t ready to love to anyone, but now it seemed as if Gabriel had proven her wrong.

  She lowered her head onto his shoulder. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? We could have been together all this time instead of letting it go by, wasted.”

  Gabriel wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her closer.

  “It wasn’t wasted,” he said. “We spent it getting to know one another.” He reached across and lovingly traced his finger along the side of her cheek. “I had to wait until I thought you were no longer in love with Dominic.”

  Dominic. Tracy tried to shake loose the thought, but it remained stuck in her head, a ghost of the past that refused to move on.

  She turned ever so slightly, and her eyes met his. “What about now?” she said.

  He waited a moment, then smiled. “And now it’s too late for me to do anything but trust that one day you’ll love me as I do you.”

  Tracy leaned across and brought her mouth to his. She wanted to say, “I feel that way right now,” but the thought of Dominic was still picking at her brain. It seemed that no matter how much she wanted the thought of him gone, it stayed.

  The summer after Lucas’s fifth birthday, they settled into a rout
ine of having lunch together every Wednesday. Tracy suddenly found countless reasons for remaining at the school all afternoon. She helped out in the classrooms while Lucas joined in the activities of a play-and-learn group. On occasion she stayed even later, and in the evening the three of them had dinner together, sometimes out and sometimes at Gabriel’s apartment. By the time she and Lucas returned to Magnolia Grove, the sky was dark and a sleepy-eyed Lucas was ready for bed. Twice, the time slipped away from them, and when the hour grew late, she and Lucas curled up in Gabriel’s small guest room and spent the night in Barrington.

  On Saturday evenings, Gabriel almost always drove to Magnolia Grove, and the two of them went out for the evening. Sometimes it was a movie, but more often, it was dinner at a restaurant with romantic lighting and booths where they sat side by side rather than across from one another. When they returned home, the house would be dark, with Lila and Lucas both sound asleep. That’s when they sat on the front porch swing and pushed back and forth as they spoke of the future. Although he had not yet proposed, they both knew it would happen one day. For now, it was enough to talk about the abstract version of what was to be.

  On just such a night in late June, after a storm had passed and the air was misted with the scent of night-blooming jasmine, they sat together and watched the last few droplets fall from the overhang.

  “A five-year-old boy should have a yard to play in,” Gabriel said, “and a dog. Look at how much Lucas loves Sox. That’s proof enough he needs to have his own dog. A puppy that can grow up with him.”

  As he spoke, Tracy could envision them still sitting together on a porch swing when they were years older with silver streaks threading their hair, and the thought was as comforting as a warm robe.

  He talked of how the school had grown and showed promise for even greater growth in the years to come. For a while, they continued to push back and forth; then he stopped the motion and turned to her.

  “In July, the Barrington Chamber of Commerce is hosting a fund-raiser for the school, and they want me to do a presentation.” He stopped for a moment, then added, “Since you know firsthand what we can do for deaf children, I thought maybe you’d like to do a testimonial.”

 

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