"David. Good to see you," Stanley said, laying his hand on David's shoulder. "So glad you could come."
David turned to Heather's father, feeling another twist of regret. He had spent so much time at the Verheegs’ that Stanley had been like a second father to him. He remembered so well how happy Stanley was when David formally asked him if he could marry Heather.
"Of course. This is a difficult day for you and your family."
Stanley tilted his head, a look of puzzlement on his face, and David realized his slip.
"So, tell me, how is the new job?" Stanley said, letting it slide.
"It's good," he said, thankful to move to a more stable topic of conversation. "I'm enjoying the challenge of the business."
"Come. Sit down." Stanley indicated the empty couch beside him. "I'm so glad you came." Stanley angled his chin in his wife's direction. "Linda wasn't looking forward to this day and didn't want to be in Grande Prairie with all the memories. Having you here makes it more meaningful."
David just nodded, unsure of what to say. He was never good at the soothing stuff. Even during Heather's funeral, he had found it easier to say nothing rather than the wrong thing. Like he just had.
"So, are you finding your way in the community?" Jack asked. "Emily said you had a bit of a tough go at first."
"Hard to walk in the footsteps of Dr. Harvey, but I'm managing to build trust with the clients," he said, leaning back into the chair, thankful to be discussing something he could navigate less awkwardly. "He's got a good clinic and a great staff."
Which made him think of Tracy.
What would the Verheegs think of him if they knew he already had a girlfriend? Or whatever one called a few dates with Tracy. A few stolen kisses.
He wanted to call it a relationship, but he sensed her guarded emotions and hesitation. While he guessed some of it had to do with this Art who had been her old boyfriend, he also sensed there was more to her reticence.
"It takes time to work into an established practice," Stanley was saying, pulling David back from his thoughts. "But I'm sure you can do it, David. You are a capable man of many talents." Stanley opened the top button of his suit jacket, leaned back in his chair, and granted him a fatherly smile. "I had such high hopes for you and Heather."
David shifted in his seat, his mind scrambling for something to say that didn't sound insincere, when he felt a light hand on his shoulder. Linda stood beside him, her features wavering. In that moment, David could see how much older she had gotten the past year. Losing her daughter had taken its toll. "David, we have a gift for you." She sat down beside him and handed him a large square parcel wrapped in plain brown paper. "Emily and Sandra made it just for you."
He gave Emily and her younger sister a quick smile. Sandra moved to the floor at his feet. Stanley leaned forward, and even Jack seemed to be watching him.
David slowly pulled the paper off the package, sensing the family's expectations hovering around him. He lifted the lid of the box and pulled out a photograph album in Heather's favorite candy-apple red.
"It's beautiful," David said, touching the cover lightly, wondering what was inside.
Linda reached over and opened the album to the first page.
"This is our favorite picture of the two of you," Linda was saying, touching the page as if trying to bring the picture to life.
David glanced down and was surprised at the pain that clenched his heart at the picture of Heather, vitally alive, laughing at the camera from the security of David's arms. The camera had caught her in mid-laugh, her head coyly tipped to one side, the sun haloing her long blonde hair flowing away from her face. The hair that she had lost bit by bit as chemicals fought their battle inside her body, pulverizing the good with the bad. He looked more serious than she did, his dark eyes slightly narrowed, his mouth in a half smile.
Nostalgia slipped over him. Heather had been a beautiful woman, a good friend, a sister, a beloved daughter. They'd made some good memories together, he realized.
So the loss of that was something he could sincerely mourn on this day.
Tracy's head hurt. Her eyelids felt small and dry, and a jangling pressure built behind her eyes.
Why did she expect any different from her mother? Why had she believed she could actually change?
It was David's quiet expectation that had brought her to this place. His unspoken disappointment in her seeming lack of forgiveness to her mother. She had tried to win his approval and had paid for it with her tears.
She swiped at her eyes as she walked aimlessly down the street. Each thudding heartbeat sent a new wave of hurt coursing through her body, hurt that felt like a betrayal of her pride and her own common sense.
How could she have been so naive? So stupid?
All these years and she still hadn't learned?
She pulled a tissue out of her purse, blew her nose, and wiped her eyes, angry that her mother could still pull out such strong emotions.
Seeing her mother drunk was nothing new, she reminded herself, stuffing the damp tissue into her pocket. The rank, dull smell of alcohol was as much a part of her life with her mother as the scent of baking bread had been associated with Danielle's mom.
It was the death of a fleeting hope that she was grieving. That was all.
She stopped a moment, marshaling her defenses, drawing on anger to erase the weakness of her tears. Her mother wasn't worth them.
Only God is faithful.
She repeated the prayer a couple of times, and her thoughts went to David.
She remembered his concern when he dropped her off. The sweet and gentle kiss he had given her. Loneliness curled through her, and she suddenly wanted to be with him.
Trouble was, he wasn't expecting her yet. And she didn't think she should barge in unexpected to a family get-together.
Her other option was wandering around Freeman and phoning David after what seemed like a suitable interval.
And tell him what?
Oh, I had a lovely visit with my mom. I ate. She drank.
She could lie about the visit. Tell him it was wonderful.
Which would create another raft of expectations for another visit and an ongoing connection.
Or she could just suck it up, barge in on his get-together. Wandering around Freeman, waiting, just seemed pathetic. Too much a reminder of her life with her mother.
She pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked the text David had sent her. Thankfully Freeman wasn't a large town. It looked like the place wasn't far.
Fifteen minutes later, she stood on the sidewalk, looking at the kind of house she dreamed of as a child. One and a half stories, gabled dormers, mullioned bay windows. Neatly clipped shrubs cozying up to the house. Trees sheltering it on either side. Even with half of the leaves off the trees, the scene was still catalog-perfect.
Tracy ran her hands up and down the strap of her purse. Maybe she'd been hasty in making her plans. Maybe she should just wait.
Then, through the bay window, she saw David sitting on the couch, Emily behind him, bent over the back of the couch, her hand protectively on his broad shoulder. A man stood beside her, his hand resting on the shoulder of an unfamiliar woman sitting beside David. She was pointing at something they all seemed to be looking at. They looked cozy. Complete. An intact family.
No. She wasn't doing this.
She was about to turn around when the side door burst open and a group of kids came flying out the side door, yelling and laughing.
One young boy was chasing a squealing young girl, her arms cupped around her head as he squirted her with a water pistol.
He lifted his pistol and was about to drench the girl again, when the boy caught sight of Tracy. A huge smile split his face.
Kent?
He looked so different. So relaxed.
"Tracy, Tracy. You came," he called out, running toward her, reaching out his arms as if he hadn't seen her for months instead of minutes.
Pure, sweet love
laced her heart as she crouched down to catch him. Hold him close as a mother would.
Kent gave her a quick hug and then pulled back, waving his green plastic pistol at the three children who still raced around, laughing and spraying. "These are my new friends."
One of the girls had stolen the other boy's water pistol and was chasing him. He ran over to Tracy and ducked behind her, taunting the girls from behind her.
As the girl looked at Tracy, she lowered her weapon and narrowed her eyes, as if trying to place Tracy herself. "I know you," the girl said. "I saw you at church. You sat with us."
Tracy nodded as she pushed herself to her feet. "And you're Rachel." However, this Rachel had black-rimmed eyes and bright-red lipstick smeared unevenly over her mouth. She looked as if she had indulged in an unsupervised foray into her mother's makeup.
"Do you want to come inside?" Rachel asked, gesturing with her pistol toward the house. "Uncle David is here too."
"Come on," Kent said, tugging on her hand. "They have munchies. You can have some too."
Tracy hesitated, while Kent kept up the gentle pressure on her hand. Then through the window, she saw David lift his head, and her heart fluttered as he turned toward her and caught her eye. The sudden yearning she felt for him, for the need to attach herself to the good part of her life, swarmed over her.
It was enough to make her overcome her hesitation and follow Kent and the other children into the house.
"Mom, we got company," Rachel called out, kicking her running shoes off on the porch. She turned to Tracy. "C'mon. You can keep your shoes on."
Emily met them in the kitchen, a faint frown marring her forehead as she looked from Rachel to Tracy.
"Oh, hello?" she asked, the polite but cool tone of her voice barring Tracy's entrance into the cozy family setting Tracy saw just beyond her.
"She's a friend of Uncle David," Rachel explained. "Kent says she came with them." Rachel sauntered into the living room and dropped on the arm of the love seat David sat in. "Your friend Tracy is here," she said nonchalantly.
She could see recognition dawn on Emily's face. "Right. We met you in church in Holmes Crossing."
But Tracy easily caught the downturn of her mouth that Emily tried to hide.
She shouldn't be here.
But then David showed up behind Emily. And her resolve weakened. He didn't seem exactly thrilled to see her. "Hey, Tracy. What are you doing here already?" he asked, his voice even, his tone vague.
If it wasn't for the fact that they had such an interested audience, she would have turned tail and left. Of course, it was probably because of that very interested audience that David seemed so withdrawn.
"I came here because . . . well . . . my mom wasn't home."
David's smile faded into a puzzled frown. "I thought she was expecting you?"
"I thought so too." She had started this story in front of so great a cloud of witnesses, she had to carry it through. "So, instead of wandering around Freeman, I thought I'd come and see where you and Kent were. Then he came outside, and it seemed kind of silly just to keep walking." Which was the truth in fact but not in intent.
"Of course. Sure." David made a vague gesture in the direction of the living room. "Come. Sit down. Do you want some coffee? Or tea?"
"I'm okay." Tracy kept her eyes on him, trying to read this changed attitude. In the truck, he had been all encouragement and solicitation.
Now he acted as if he was uncomfortable with her presence.
She would have taken that as her cue to leave, but Kent still stood beside her, still clinging to her hand. So she decided to brazen it out.
Tracy glanced quickly around the full living room, spotting an empty chair. She moved to it and sat, and Kent sat on the floor at her feet.
"Rachel, you're soaked. You go change, and then you can start a movie for you and Harmony and the boys," Emily said, nudging her daughter, who still lounged on the armrest of the love seat, oblivious to her grandmother's instructions. "There's a rented one on top of the television in the family room downstairs." Emily glanced back. "Max. Harmony. Take Kent downstairs to watch a movie."
Kent looked up at Tracy as if seeking permission, which she reluctantly granted.
Once Kent left, Tracy would be on the edge of this family gathering. Besides, she felt a heaviness in the room that put her on edge, made her feel even more of an intruder.
"Linda, Stanley, I'd like you to meet Tracy," David was saying as he introduced her to the gathering. "Tracy, Linda and Stanley are Emily's parents. Jack and Emily you already know, of course. The other woman is Sandra, Emily's sister."
Linda gave Tracy a terse nod. Stanley reached over and shook her hand. Sandra just gave her a polite smile.
"Nice to meet you, Tracy," Linda said with a cool smile. "Are you Kent's mother?"
"No. I . . . uh . . . work with David," she said, carefully feeling her way around the conversation and her relationship with David. "Kent has been staying at my place."
Emily looked puzzled and glanced at David. "I thought you said he didn't have a place?"
David glanced over his shoulder, as if to make sure that Kent was out of earshot. "He's staying with Tracy because his mother is gone and we don't know where she is. Kent's been hanging around the clinic. A couple of times he ended up staying in there overnight." David glanced over at Tracy, his expression unreadable.
And Tracy felt a finger of apprehension snake down her back at his comments, so distant and removed.
"That is so sad. Have you called social services?" Linda asked from her place on the couch.
"Tracy has a friend who works for the department," David said. "She's looking into it."
"If there's anything Emily and I can do to help, David, let us know," Jack said with a light frown.
Tracy wanted to jump up and shout out, "I'm the one who found him. I'm the one who's going to help him. You don't even know him." But she checked her sudden frustration.
David was fidgeting, rubbing one thumb over the other, tapping his foot lightly on the carpet. His body language fairly screamed uncomfortable.
She shouldn't have come.
"You didn't get a chance to finish looking at Heather's album," Linda said, indicating the photo book on her lap. "We put so much work into it. So much love." Linda's voice wavered, and Tracy suddenly remembered.
Heather. Oh yes. The dead girlfriend. And from where she was sitting, Tracy could see a large picture of Heather. She was beautiful and she was blonde. It seemed Tracy was cursed to be surrounded by a bevy of blonde clones. What did surprise Tracy were the different kinds of jealousy that grabbed her like unwelcome old friends.
There was jealousy of the woman who had at one time held David's heart. But layered through that was jealousy over how this family clearly missed their daughter and the claim they laid on David.
"Emily put this together shortly after Heather's funeral," the older lady was saying. She turned to Tracy.
"Our daughter Heather was engaged to David. She died today, exactly one year ago." Tracy reeled in surprise.
She had no idea that Heather had been David's fiancée.
Chapter 11
An icy hand of pain dragged at Tracy as she tried to force her now-stiff lips to smile. David was looking intently at her, but she let her gaze skitter away.
He had spoken so casually of the relationship. As if Heather was simply an old girlfriend. A fiancée was much more than that. Why had David lied to her? What had he been trying to hide?
This was getting more awkward by the minute. "I'm sorry to hear that," she said, looking away from David.
"Would you like to see the album as well?" Linda asked.
It was the last thing she wanted to do, but she had crashed this party, may as well see it through. So she got up and obediently sat beside Linda, trying not to be too aware of David on the other side.
Tracy tried not to read too much into the situation, but she felt as if Linda was sizing her up.
But it did.
"This was Heather at the Faith Alive Women's Retreat," Emily was saying, reaching past David to turn the page. Another picture of Heather smiling surrounded by a group of women. She looked positively angelic. "She loved going to them. Have you ever been, Tracy?"
Tracy shook her head. Another mark against her.
"It's a wonderful opportunity to renew your faith. Heather was such a strong Christian." Emily turned another page. "Oh, and here's a lovely series of Heather at our church camp. And of course, here's David."
Tracy forced herself to look down at a picture of Heather and David, their arms around each other. David was looking at the camera. Heather was looking at him, her heart in her eyes, clearly in love with the man who also made Tracy's heart flutter.
He had asked this woman to marry him. To be his life's partner.
Why are you so upset about this? she asked herself. Him saying "I care about you" and giving you a few kisses doesn't grant you exclusivity. She should have known that a guy like David didn't have just an ordinary past with ordinary girlfriends. Of course he would have a fiancée who was amazing and spiritual and . . . beautiful.
Tracy suffered through more photos of Heather doing more wonderful things with David, her family, her friends, each picture adding one more ache, one more insecurity to Tracy's already bruised emotions.
Heather had been loved by her intact and perfect family. Heather had been loved by David.
Tracy had never truly experienced the first of the two. The latter she had received a taste of and wanted more.
But how could she compare to Heather? A girl who went to Christian retreats. Who belonged to a family who looked like they stepped out of a home insurance commercial. Could Tracy stand to be, once again, second-best?
A Silence in the Heart (Holmes Crossing Book 4) Page 12
