The store’s bell jangled, announcing the arrival of customers, and the moment was about to pass. But she couldn’t let it go.
“Then I won’t tell.” Her mother spun her wheelchair around and headed to the back room. “I’ve got a card-making class to get ready for. Did you make sure we have enough chartreuse and mauve card stock for the projects? And ribbon. I know we were short of that.”
“We have all we need,” Renee said as she followed her mother into the room, then shut the door behind them, closing off the outside world for a moment. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she smiled. Another text from Tate no doubt, but she ignored it as she sat down, putting herself at eye level with her mother.
“Mom, you and I both know we’re under a time crunch. Tomorrow we’ll be having that conference call with the therapy team, and you’ll have to tell them what you want. I need to make sure you’re not postponing all this for the wrong reasons.”
Brenda folded her arms and tucked in her chin.
Not a good sign, Renee thought. If there was one language she was fluent in, it was her mother’s body language.
“I have my reasons for my decisions,” her mother said. “I was going to let you know soon. However, I had to make sure the...situation I was involved in was going the way I had hoped, and that I wasn’t misreading the circumstances.”
“Between you and Arlan,” Renee said, reeling her mother back to the point.
“I think he loves me.”
“Loves you?”
“And I love him.”
“You love him?” Renee parroted what her mother told her. “How...when...?”
“If you must know, it started because of you and Tate. Arlan had been helping me write up my will—”
“Your will?”
“Yes. I like to be prepared. Anyhow, at one of our meetings he told me his son was coming to town. I joked that we should get the two of you together. He thought it was a great idea. So we started planning. And then when Addison talked about making a scrapbook, we both thought that was the perfect solution.”
As her mother talked, Renee felt as if all the pieces of a convoluted puzzle slowly fell into place.
Tate had mentioned how his father had encouraged Addison to make the scrapbook. She remembered her mother’s approval that Renee be the one to work with Tate and Addison.
“So the meeting at Mug Shots...and the Mother’s Day dinner...?” Renee let the sentence drift off in a question.
“All part of the plan. Look how well it worked. You and Tate seem happy together. I know he’s been texting you all morning.”
“How—”
“Seriously, Renee. You’re as transparent as vellum. Your phone rings, you pull it out of your pocket and then you get that look on your face.”
“What look?” Renee protested.
“That sappy, lovey-dovey—”
“Mom,” Renee protested. “You started telling me about you and Arlan. Let’s get back to that.”
Her mother shrugged and then it was her turn to get a sappy look on her face. “While we were planning to get the two of you together, there was a...fortunate...side effect.”
“You and Arlan fell in love.”
Her mother looked down at her hands. “Yes. We care very much for each other. Trust me, honey, it was as much of a surprise to us as it is to you.”
Renee released a gentle laugh. “This is an interesting predicament,” she said. “I never thought—”
“Me neither. I never thought someone like me could attract a man. But Arlan is loving, kind and generous, and he told me that he loves me just the way I am.”
“That’s why you don’t want to go through with the therapy program in Vancouver?”
Her mother nodded. “I don’t want to be so far away from him. We’ve talked about marriage,” Brenda said quietly.
Renee sat back in her chair, still trying to absorb what her mom had just told her, and all the implications for her.
“It’s premature, I know,” Brenda continued, “but I thought I should let you know what’s at stake here.”
Myriad emotions swirled through Renee’s mind. Hope. Happiness for her mother. Fear of the repercussions of this decision. Fear for what would happen to her mother if Arlan realized the full scope of Brenda’s care.
She didn’t know how to process all this in a way that made sense to her.
Then her cell phone rang. Like a drowning sailor she pounced on it, glancing at the display. Tate.
“Hey,” she said, thankful for the diversion. “How’s it going?”
“Can you come to the office?”
“Now?”
“Now would be nice,” he said, his deep voice holding a hint of promise. “I need to talk to you.”
And she needed to talk to him, too. She realized that she had someone special. Someone other than her mother that she could talk to. Share things with.
“Yeah. That would work just fine.”
“See you soon.”
Renee couldn’t stop smiling as she ended the call, then looked over at her mother, who was smirking at her. “I’m guessing that was Tate,” she said.
“You can guess all you want,” Renee said, pushing herself to her feet. “But I’ll be gone for an hour or so.”
“Stay as long as you want.”
Renee just shook her head. “We’ll talk more tonight,” she warned. “And we are still going to take that call on Thursday.”
Her mother nodded as Renee stifled a flicker of panic. Pulling out of the therapy program was her mom’s decision. And Renee had to trust that this was truly what her mother wanted.
But part of her still felt it was the wrong thing to do. Part of her felt that all wrongs would be made right if she could see her mother free from that chair.
Still felt that she could move on with her life only if everything was right in her mother’s world.
Chapter Twelve
Tate clicked his mouse and sent the last email. As he looked at the clock on the wall, he heard voices in the outer office. Debbie’s rough laugh, Renee’s lilting reply.
As he got to his feet, the door opened and there she was.
The light from the outer office highlighted her hair, putting her in silhouette.
“Come on in,” he said, trying not to rush as he walked around his desk to her side.
As she closed the door behind her, he gave in to an impulse and pulled her close. Once she was in his embrace, he felt all the frustrations of his day melt away.
He inhaled the fresh scent of her shampoo as he brushed his cheek over her hair.
“Best part of my day,” he said, drawing back.
She smiled up at him, her expression radiant. “Best part of mine, too.”
“I didn’t call you just to hug you.” He laughed then pulled out a chair for her to sit on.
He perched on the edge of the desk across from her as she sat down, tucking her skirt around her legs.
“I asked you to come because I got good news. I just got off the phone with Freddy,” Tate continued. “He agreed to drop the lien. I got Benny and him to come to an agreement. Freddy will be signing off on the paperwork this afternoon.”
Renee nodded, and Tate was surprised at her restrained response. “This was what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, of course. It was, but somehow, it doesn’t seem as important now that my mother doesn’t want to leave for Vancouver.”
She lifted one shoulder in a hesitant shrug, as if she didn’t dare say more than that.
“And I don’t know if I’m stepping over the line here,” she continued, “but my mother just told me that she and your father, well, they seem to be in a relationship.”
Tate only grinned, thankful that she now knew, as well. “You just preempted me. That was another of the reasons I wanted to talk to you, as well. Dad just told me. They must have made a decision to break the news at the same time. My dad is happier than he’s been for a long time.”
“My mother, too, but...” Her voice faded away as a frown wrinkled her forehead.
“But what?”
Renee looked directly at him, concern shadowing her face. “Does your father know what he’s getting into? As far as my mother’s care is concerned?”
Tate felt a hint of foreboding at her tone. “I don’t know. We didn’t talk about that.”
“It’s a major concern for me,” Renee said.
“Do you think you’re the only one who can take care of her?”
Renee’s frown deepened, and Tate wished he could take back what he’d just said.
“It isn’t just a matter of pushing a wheelchair now and again,” Renee said, the anxiety on her face now edging her voice. “It’s more than revamping a house to allow it to be accessible. There are health issues to deal with, daily care. I don’t know if he realizes—”
Tate touched her lips with his finger to stop her from saying any more. “He might not know the full extent of your mother’s care, but he’s a man in love, and he’s not irresponsible. I trust that he is going into this with his eyes wide-open.”
Renee bit her lip, as if still unconvinced.
“They’ll be fine,” Tate said. “And I’m sure whatever needs to be done, your mother will tell him, and what she can’t tell him, you can.”
“I suppose,” Renee said, but Tate noted the hesitation in her voice. Then she gave him a quick smile. “It’s just that I’ve been responsible for her care for so long, I can’t imagine just handing it over to someone else.”
“She’s an adult, not a child,” Tate reminded her.
Renee laughed. “You’re right. I tend to be overprotective.” She smiled at him again.
“Now then, I was wondering if you’re free on Thursday. There’s a play in Calgary I’d like to see.”
“My mother and I have a conference call with the therapy team in Vancouver on Thursday at five. I don’t think it will take long. I could call you when it’s done.”
Tate kissed her again. “I’ll be praying for you and your mother. Praying that you will be able to live with the decision she makes.”
She laid the palm of her hand against his face, her eyes glistening. “You are such a blessing to me. I feel like my life has fallen into a good place.”
“I feel the same. I think you need to know that I’ve never felt this way, even with Molly.”
Her smile shone like sunshine breaking through clouds. “I’m so thankful for you,” she whispered. “I hope Addison will feel the same.”
“I hope so, too.”
“When do you think we should talk to her?”
“What do you mean?”
“About us,” Renee said, suddenly growing shy. “I’m sure she has some idea of what’s going on. Especially after Sunday.”
“Yes, I’m sure she does.” In fact, Addison had mentioned how much they’d seen of Renee lately. “But I’m not so sure we need to move so quickly on that.”
“It’s not that quick. Not if...not if things are changing between us.”
Tate pulled in a long breath, realizing how this might look to Renee. “Maybe, but I need to be careful with Addison.”
“Of course you do, but she’s also—” Renee stopped herself.
“Were you going to say that she is also your daughter?” Tate asked.
Renee held her hand up in a gesture of defense. “I was. But that was out of line. I’m sorry.”
“Of course,” he said.
But what she’d said was the truth. Now that it was spoken, it needed to be addressed.
Renee shook her head. “Please forget I said anything. Addison is... I know she’s your daughter first. I have no claim to her...” Renee let the sentence drift away.
Tate wasn’t sure how to fix things between them, and when he leaned forward to give her a kiss, she drew away.
“Speaking of responsibilities, I should get back to the store,” she said, her voice tight. “I don’t like to leave Mom alone too long.”
Tate felt the sudden frostiness in Renee’s demeanor, and in spite of his confidence that he was doing the right thing, he knew he had hurt her.
He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. Then, as if to capture it, he curled her fingers around it and pressed them down.
“In case you might need it before we see each other again,” he said with a smile.
Renee looked down at her hand. “I won’t waste it,” she said with a wistful smile.
But she didn’t return his kiss as she left.
Tate watched her go, misgivings swimming at the back of his mind. This hadn’t gone the way it should have.
But what else was he supposed to do? He cared for Renee more than he had ever cared for anyone else, but Addison was his daughter. He had to watch out for her.
He dragged his hands over his face. He knew he was wise to wait before telling Addison, but at the same time, he felt as if he had made a misstep with Renee that would be hard to undo.
Renee sat in her office. Quiet. Alone.
It was Thursday. The day of the conference call with the therapist. The day that she had waited so long for, it was permanently imprinted on her mind.
However, right now all she could think of was Tate and the confusion of emotions he created in her. Tonight they were going out on a date, and while she was excited, a small part of her struggled with her own emotions.
She hadn’t been able to stop her sorrow when Tate had said he didn’t want to tell Addison about them. While her head understood the wisdom of his words, her heart knew that Tate was holding back. Keeping part of himself separate from her.
And, even more, keeping Addison from her.
He’s a father, she reminded herself. He has to be sure.
But she’s your daughter.
She couldn’t lay claim to Addison, though, and therefore, couldn’t expect Tate to honor that.
“Are you putting in an order?”
Renee’s mother’s voice broke into her thoughts.
“We’re getting low on glitter, ink, patterned paper, and we could really use some of the new Copic colors,” her mother said, hands resting on the wheels of her chair. “Now that we’re not selling the store, we’re going to need to do a large restock.”
“I know. That also means some large bills,” Renee said, turning back to her computer screen.
“But the bank account is healthier than it’s been in months, so I think we can afford it.”
Renee sat back in her chair, smiling at the changes her mother had made to her wardrobe the past few days, including today. The cream-colored T-shirt she wore was new, as were her pants. Her mother had looped a brightly colored scarf around her neck, enhancing the asymmetrical haircut Trudy at Hair Today had talked her into getting.
The highlights glinting in her hair, combined with her clothes, gave her mother a youthful and vibrant look, and as Renee held her mom’s shining gaze, she felt a pulse of gratitude for Arlan Truscott. He had given Brenda a shine to her eyes that Renee hadn’t seen since her father had been alive.
She was about to say something to her mother, when the front door of the shop flew open, the bell jangling.
“Renee? Renee? Where are you?” a voice called out on a sob.
Renee hurried past her mother, who had already turned to see what was happening. “Addison?”
The little girl stood by the wooden front desk, her backpack slung over one shoulder, her ponytail askew, her cheeks shining with tears as she looked around wildly. She was clutching a book to her chest, and as Renee came closer, she recognized the scrapbook they had made.
“Sweetheart, what’s the matter?” Renee hurried to Addison’s side.
Addison threw herself into Renee’s arms, almost knocking her over, her sobs echoing throughout the store.
A group of younger women, pushing baby buggies, looked their way. Then one of the babies, sensing Addison’s distress, started to whimper, as well.
“I’ll take care of the cus
tomers,” her mother said.
Renee nodded, taking the still-sobbing Addison by the hand and leading her to her office. She closed the door behind them, then sat down on a chair and pulled Addison close.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Renee asked. “Are you feeling okay? Are you sick? Should we call your dad?”
Addison heaved out a few more sobs, then drew in a shuddering breath as she shook her head.
“Where’s Blythe?” Renee prompted.
“She...she’s be...behind me,” Addison hicupped. She swiped her cheeks with her palm, her other hand still clutching the scrapbook. “I’m supposed to go to her house tonight.”
So that Renee and Tate could go on their date, Renee realized.
Renee let the girl settle down a moment, then eased her into the chair beside her, grabbing the box of tissues from the desk.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” she said, tugging a couple free and gently wiping the little girl’s eyes. Her heart broke for her, and she wondered if she was missing her mother.
Addison sniffed again, then looked down at the book she clung to. “My friends are mean,” was all she said.
“How are they mean?”
“I brought my scrapbook to school to show my teacher. Then my friends wanted to see it, so I showed them. My one friend said that her mommy took lots and lots of pictures of her in the hospital and that I didn’t have any pictures of me inside the hospital, so I told her I was adop...adopted.” Addison released another whimpering sob.
“But, honey, you’ve always known you were adopted,” Renee said, unable to quench the usual quiver of regret at the reality.
“I know, but my friend said that my mommy, my biological mommy, didn’t want me. That she gave me away.”
Addison’s words stabbed at Renee’s heart with swift, sure strokes.
“But you know better, don’t you?” Renee asked, her words tentative, unsure in the face of this girl’s sobbing grief.
Addison looked up at Renee, her teary gaze creating a deathly chill in Renee’s soul.
“My friend said my real mommy gave me away because she didn’t love me.”
Renee blanched at the cold, hard anger in Addison’s voice.
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