"Zoe did it all." Dani spun around for me. "She has a real flair for it."
Scott high-fived her. "Way to go, Zo."
"Yeah," I added stupidly, unable to tear my eyes from Dani. A tug on my pants finally drew my attention to Tabitha, whose hair was also done in a series of complicated braids. Somewhere they found tiny, purple wildflowers to stick into her hair, and she wore a pink sundress. I squatted to look her in the face. "My. Don't you look nice, too."
"Zoe and I are going to have a tea party." She turned to Scott. "You can come, too."
"But I didn't bring any fancy clothes," Scott protested with a smile.
"That's okay." She shrugged. "You look fine the way you are."
I stood and noticed Zoe also wore a sundress, one I'd only seen her wear once or twice. Why she thought to pack it was beyond me. I guess women came prepared in case of an emergency tea party of some sort. I met Dani's eyes and they glowed. She stepped forward and took a hold of my lapels, making my heart skip like a kid playing hopscotch. "You look very handsome," she said in a low purr. The doorbell rang, but neither of us moved for a second or two.
I jumped. "Oh, that must be the pizza." I moved to get it.
"No, wait," Dani interjected. "Let me get the pizza." She grabbed a beaded purse from the counter.
"Don't be ridiculous. You paid for the condo and brought all of the groceries."
"But you said you were paying for dinner tonight, and that'll be expensive."
"It's okay. I'm a lawyer." I pulled out my wallet.
"And I'm a lunch lady. If you try to pay for this pizza, you will degrade lunch ladies everywhere."
I stopped riffling through my wallet to look at her. "And the logic in that is...?"
She successfully fished out a couple of bills from her purse and beat me to the door. "Well-hidden," she finished with a twinkle in her eye. She opened the door, and the delivery boy's mouth literally dropped when he looked up from the receipt he scanned and caught sight of Dani. He was a good-looking kid, probably all of eighteen, and likely a football player, I guessed, by the way his arms were bulging out of his sleeves.
"H-hi," he stammered, drawing himself to his full height.
"Hi. How much do I owe you?"
He blinked. "What?"
"For the pizza?" Dani said with a patient smile. "How much do I owe you?"
"Oh. Uhh..." he sought to regain his composure, glancing at the receipt again to refresh his memory, which suddenly seemed to have gone blank. "Nineteen-eighteen."
Dani handed him twenty-five and took the boxes from him. I rushed to relieve her of them. The delivery boy reached into a pocket.
"Oh, keep the change."
"Thanks. You going to a wedding or something?" he asked conversationally.
I glared at him.
"No. Just out for dinner," Dani returned, appearing oblivious to the way the kid checked her out when she bent to answer a question for Tabitha. Zoe turned from where she pulled plates from a cabinet. The hormonal delivery boy took her in as well, his eyes wide.
"Thanks," I said abruptly, slamming the door in his face.
Dani jumped and glanced up.
"Wind took it," I responded with a shrug, the sliding screen door being open. She peered at me with her head cocked, but I turned to Zoe. "Okay, do not open this door for anybody. Got it? Nobody. We have our keys so we'll let ourselves in."
"Got it, Dad." She was already stuffing a piece of pizza into her mouth. "I'm not a moron, you know."
"And what if they say the hotel is on fire?"
"I wait for an alarm."
"And if they don't go away?"
"I call the front desk. Will you get out of here already?"
"All right," I said, disgruntled. "We shouldn't be too late."
"Take all the time you want. We got pizza and a TV. What more could we want?"
Chapter 14
Tucker
Dani and I strolled hand-in-hand down the hall. Inside the elevator we took to the ground floor, Poison's "Every Rose Has Its Thorns" played over a speaker system. As if talking to herself, Dani commented, "I don't think every cowboy has a sad song. There are happy cowboys, too. Maybe the sad ones just need a trip to the saloon."
"How about those yodeling cowboys?" I added. "You've got to be happy to yodel."
She smiled broadly and threw her arms around me. "I love you."
I chuckled. After leaving the building, we rambled along a short sidewalk to the steakhouse. As I held the door, I caught the faint smell of Dani's perfume, and images of the night before drifted through my head, along with the fact we agreed to not let that happen again. With a sigh, I followed after her.
I was disappointed to find the inside of the restaurant was not exactly intimate. I requested a table in a booth, the walls offering some degree of privacy, but still found way too much room between us.
Once we ordered and began our bottle of wine, I casually played with her hand on the tablecloth. "I had so much fun with you today," I said lightly.
"Even though I beat you on 'The Matador?'" she teased.
I let her win in order to see her victory dance, which did not disappoint. "Yeah," I lied. "I still can't quite figure that out. You must have cheated."
"I did not," she exclaimed, pretending to be indignant. Her fingers twirled around mine and rubbed against my skin maddeningly. "If I had figured out a way to, I might've, but I didn't," she added with a laugh.
"I like the way you laugh." She ducked her head as if embarrassed, but I continued. "And the way you play. You have a real love for life."
She glanced away, appearing uncomfortable talking about herself. "Well, as you may have figured out, Sam and I haven't really grown up yet. I guess you can say we suffer from eternal immaturity."
I took a drink of my wine, watching her intently. "I find that charming."
She stopped fidgeting and looked me straight in the eye. "Yeah. I don't get that. You seem to understand us."
"It's a curse, I guess."
Dani laughed. "You can say that again." She lifted her glass and tipped it to me in mid-air, taking a long drink.
I considered her on a deeper level than I had all evening, forgetting how her outer beauty alone blew me away. She was, in essence, the anti-Gina, warm, generous, caring, fun-loving. It drew me from the start, and I enjoyed discovering this in her again and again over our time together.
She shifted in her seat. "What are you thinking about?"
"You."
Her gaze caught mine with that same magnetic stare we exchanged as the pizza man arrived at the condo. She seemed at a loss for words. She dropped her eyes and ran her hand along an invisible seam in the tablecloth. "Did you talk to Zoe?" I realized it was the first chance we caught to talk to each other alone all day.
"Yes."
She didn't look up, merely continued to play with the fabric, as if afraid to ask the next question. "Is she mad at me?"
"No," I said tenderly.
She nodded, and the answer seemed to strangely trouble her. "Is she... mad at you?" She grimaced slightly, her shoulders tight as if preparing for a blow.
"A little, maybe," I returned honestly. "She was mostly upset by the situation."
"I'm so sorry, Tucker."
"Okay, you've got to quit doing that. Taking the blame for an act we committed together."
"It's just... I feel so bad. I'd hate to think I did anything to come between you and your daughter."
I took her hand. "Don't worry about that. Zoe and I cleared the air. She likes you, by the way."
"I like her, Tucker. You should have seen her with Tabby. They are so good together."
"Yeah. Scott doesn't take much to having his hair braided, so it's been nice for her to have you girls around. But it won't always be sunshine and roses. Having a mixed family is always a challenge," I added, speaking without thinking.
"What did you say?"
I chickened out. "I'm not sure."
The wai
ter chose that precise second to arrive with our salads, which I guess I could take as a sign, but after about a minute, I burst out, "I said something about mixing our families. I didn't even realize I said it at the time, but..." I put my fork down and grabbed her hand. "Dani, I know this is utterly insane, but... I can't imagine going back to living my life without you in it. When I saw you backstage at Chase's concert, I sensed something special about you, and now I had the opportunity to spend some time with you, I realize just how special you are. And, I know this isn't the time or the place, but... I want you to think about what it is you want for your future, and... whether you want to spend that future together, with me, and Scott, and Zoe, and your sweet Tabby, together, as a family."
She froze, her mouth hanging open a second before she swallowed. She sat stunned and I can't say I blamed her. I was sort of stunned by what I said myself. "You want..." She blinked rapidly. "There's so much to think about... I-I..."
I couldn't help but feel a wave of disappointment. "I know. I'm being crazy. It's way too soon to talk about things like that. I don't want to rush this. Let's forget I said anything."
But it soon became apparent neither of us could forget I said it, or how she reacted to me saying it. I forced conversation through the rest of the meal, and she tried to comment here and there, but it was clear her mind was somewhere else. I imagined her thinking, How do I get through the next couple of days with this guy? I like him. But I don't want to marry him, for goodness sakes. I imagined all kinds of things she would say to me in order to end the vacation early and get away from me, and pretty soon my lame attempts at conversation dried up, too.
But when we headed back to the condo, she slipped her arm around my waist and laid her head on my chest for a moment. I took that as a good sign. Or... maybe she was sad she would have to say goodbye to me soon. Maybe I read things all wrong. Maybe she was more interested in an affair, than a relationship. More interested in sex than marriage. Maybe she and Gina had more in common than I thought.
When we returned, the kids were all asleep in Scott's room, an adorable pile of arms and legs. We closed the door on them quietly and returned to the front rooms. We ordered a bottle of wine to take with us, and Danielle waited on the balcony off the living room while I opened it. I peered out at her while I worked at the cork, my hands sweating. Her face was serious as she gazed out over the river, a soft breeze blowing her hair and dress. I gulped and looked away, trying to concentrate on my uncorking. I retrieved two glasses from the cabinet and poured the wine to take it out, but when I glanced up, Danielle rested her elbows on the balcony railing, hands at her temples, body shaking. So this would be it then, she would tell me goodbye tonight.
Danielle
It wasn't like I hadn't thought about it, a life with Tucker. But it was in that make-believe, fantasy way, the "gee, he would make a good dad for Tabitha," "gee, what a great husband he would be," "gee, wouldn't it be fantastic to wake up to this every morning." But, seriously considering it? That threw me for a loop. And the reason it did was because I went down that road before, with Darren. There was no hope in avoiding the flashbacks to the times Darren and I made such plans together—while lying together on a picnic blanket, or on towels at the beach, or sitting quietly on the porch, while stars twinkled in the treetops, or holding hands over a candlelit dinner, or at night, lying awake in a dark room, making plans for our future. No hope in not feeling the ache that had become like a cancerous growth in my heart.
I held it together through dinner, but now I was alone on the balcony, it washed over me anew. We'd built the house Tabby and I lived in together. We'd talked about children, how many we'd have, what their names would be, how we would raise them... Everything seemed so bright then, so permanent, like we had all the time in the world to be with each other, when, in reality, it would be gone in months. I had to leave that pain in the past and move forward, but how do you do that when it seemed like only yesterday the pain swallowed you whole and spit you out in an unknown world, all alone?
Hearing Tucker's movements in the kitchen, I knew I needed to get a grip. When he came out, I had dried my tears and forced a smile onto my face. He handed me my glass, staring into his. "Dani, I'm sorry. I ruined this evening."
"No," I insisted, shaking my head. "You didn't. That would be my fault."
"I shouldn't have pushed you."
"You didn't do anything wrong. Truthfully, I've thought about how it would be to be with you, too, as a family. It's just..." I lowered my voice, watching the ruby whirlpool of wine slosh around as I swirled my glass. "I've been here before, making plans for the future, with Darren—plans that died on the night he did." I paused, unsure of how to continue. "I'm sorry. I hate that I'm such an emotional basket case."
He grabbed my hand. "No. Don't say that. That's exactly what I love about you, Dani. You feel. You love, you laugh, you cry... all that is in you. You're not simply an empty void."
I knew he spoke about Gina. I sighed. "Sometimes I wish I could be. For just a bit."
He passed the back of his hand along my cheek. "I know."
I put my hand over his on my face. "I thought I was ready, Tucker. I did. I'm so sorry."
He looked down and didn't speak at first. "Do you want us to go in the morning?"
My stomach dropped. "Is that what you want?"
He hesitated long enough to worry me. "No," he said quietly, but he continued to stare at his wine.
"Tucker... when I said I loved you last night, those weren't hollow words. I don't say that without meaning it, and I haven't said it to any man but Darren." I took his hand. "I love you." I gazed into his face, and I could tell it wasn't enough for him, not anymore.
"I know you do," he commented sadly. A long pause held in the air. He studied my face in the dim light. "Maybe we should get a good night's sleep so we can think about things more clearly," he said finally. "Good night." He bent and kissed my cheek before he went inside, leaving me feeling like he said "goodbye" instead of "good night." I watched as he set his still-full wine glass on the counter before turning and heading down the hall to his own bedroom. With the screen door open I could hear the soft bwow of the wooden door meeting the wooden frame.
I brought my shaking hands to cover my face and let the sobs I was holding in overtake me. Why were my attempts to keep myself from being hurt again such a miserable failure?
Chapter 15
Danielle
Thanks to my idiocy of the night before, the morning was awkward. Tucker was quiet, though pleasant, and I wondered if he would have preferred it if I let him off the hook last night, let him leave and get as far away from me as possible. For my part, I hadn't slept. My eyes were swollen, and my face looked like it gained a couple of years overnight. I couldn't stop thinking of him and the things he said.
By ten we had packed our things and checked out. Since I had the map, Tucker agreed to follow behind in his SUV. Zoe rode along in "the girls' car," cozying up in the back with my little one, discussing with Tabby, at great length, the merits of each of the Disney princesses, and which were their favorites. I attempted to be upbeat as we set off, but when their activities diverted their attention from me, I gave in to my moroseness, rethinking what I said and wondering if I could have said it better. We wound through the parking lot and up a long hill, leaving the resort area and heading for Door County.
By late afternoon, we arrived at one of the quaintest cottages I'd ever seen. Tiny, it sported flower boxes at windows on either side of the weathered, blue door. A picket fence hemmed in the postage-stamp lawn. Tabby squealed and clapped her hands, opening the gate and running up the sidewalk as if visiting an old friend.
"It's tiny," I said to Tucker. "I hope we won't be too cramped."
He smiled, won over by the charm of the house himself, I think. "We'll make do." To my surprise, he bent in and kissed me softly and smiled before returning to the car to retrieve luggage.
Inside, the furnishings were similar
to most hotel rooms, not nearly as charming as the outside, but neat as a pin and comfortable.
After we toted our stuff inside, we decided to go to the local grocery store and stock up. Like the cottage, it was small, reminding me of a neighborhood grocery store behind my grandparents' house where we would go and get a soda, or bread or milk for Grandma. Despite its size, or lack thereof, we found everything we needed there, though it was tough to maneuver our cart among all the tourists who were gathering supplies as well.
Once at the cottage, Tucker fired up the grill, while I prepared aluminum-foiled packets of potatoes. As I threw together a salad, Zoe and Tabby played tag outside, while Tucker tossed the ball around with Scott. My hands stilled as I chopped carrots, the knife balanced in mid-cut. I watched the graceful, easy way Tucker lobbed the ball to his son and noted where his t-shirt highlighted the muscles in his back. I decided he must be a good athlete. I longed to be with him again, to trace those muscles, run my hands over his chest and biceps and butt, to feel the heat his touch ignited in me, and the undeniable tug he had on my heart. I literally had to shake myself out of my reverie and laughed at my own foolishness.
After dinner, the kids begged to go to the pool in the clubhouse down the road from our cottage. We thought they had enough water at the Dells, but they frolicked and played in the pool happily, their voices echoing off the walls. Tucker and I discussed plans for the days ahead, perusing pamphlets we chose at the Visitor's Center in town. He brought along a deck of cards, so when we finished, we played Gin-Rummy while our fishes swam.
At nine o'clock, they had enough chlorine, and we trooped back to our place for hot cocoa in our jammies. The kids crawled into bed together and watched TV, as had become their habit. Tucker helped me finish cleaning up the kitchen.
"That was fun," I commented with a smile.
He laughed. "For you, maybe. You beat me four hands in a row."
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