David didn’t know what to say.
“She was devastated at first. Then, later, after the funeral, she read something that made her change her mind.”
David snickered. “She decided it was better that I’d died?”
“No, she told me she didn’t think you were dead.”
“Why did she think that?”
“You can ask her when you see her.” Brent sounded resigned. “I’ll call her and set up a meeting. Probably without the kids, if you don’t mind. The twins took quite a while to warm up to me, and they’re at an age that…well, we’ll see. Maybe Kay will disagree. I know you cared for them when you two were together.”
NINETY MINUTES LATER, David was standing on the porch next door to the home he’d once owned. Both places looked exactly the same, although someone had painted the front door of David’s home a dark purple.
He pushed the bell.
Kay answered the door almost immediately. Brent stood behind her, his expression far less welcoming—less jubilant than his wife’s.
“Paul,” she cried, wrapping him in her arms and pulling him close. She seemed shorter and rounder than he remembered, but she smelled the same—Youth Dew and cookies. She’d always loved to bake.
“Paul,” she said again, her voice wobbling with emotion. Tears rolled down her cheeks when she pulled back to look at him. “You’re too thin. You’re not eating, are you? And, oh dear, what a hideous mustache. Is it fake?”
For the first time since leaving Las Vegas, he threw back his head and laughed. “Why don’t you tell me what you really think, Kay?”
She put her hand on his arm and coaxed him inside.
“You know me, speak first, think about propriety second. But it really isn’t you.”
He chose to ignore her observation. “Thanks for seeing me. Brent, you must have really made good time to get here.”
“I have a different job now. With a private contractor. Closer to home.”
Kay insisted on serving them coffee, along with a plate of homemade cookies. The smell was intoxicating and brought back memories he’d thought long gone. “Brent probably filled you in on what happened, right?” he asked Kay.
She nodded. “You did the right thing, Paul. I always had misgivings about Ray’s miracle fountain of youth. I knew you were too honorable to poison the public just to make a buck.”
“A couple of billion bucks,” he said, surprised by how good her praise felt.
He finished his cookie then sat forward, elbows on his knees. “I came to apologize, Kay. I should have figured out a way to tell you the truth. To warn you. But the U.S. marshals convinced me that any deviation from the plan would put you and the children in danger.”
Before she could say anything, a high thin wail sounded from the counter behind him. David jumped slightly and turned to see a small speaker of some kind.
“I’ll get him. Probably needs a change,” Brent said, standing up.
“You can give him some juice—half juice, half water, remember.” To David, she said, “I’m trying to wean him. We just found out…” Her smile was so bright it almost hurt to look at her. “Did Brent tell you?”
David nodded. “Yes, congratulations.”
“I know five children isn’t politically correct, but we can afford them and, damn it, I’m a really good mother. It’s all I ever wanted to do. Be the best wife and mother I could be.” Her red-apple cheeks glowed a little brighter. “Which is why I felt so guilty about Brent. You were my hero, Paul. You rescued me from purgatory. But I never should have married you.”
“Kay, you and the kids filled a huge void in my life. But I was so caught up in my work—and my ego—I didn’t appreciate what you brought to me.”
She smiled sadly. “We both made mistakes, but I’m not making excuses for myself. Brent is a good man. Neither of us meant for the affair to happen. But I was lonely.”
He knew she didn’t intend to sound as if she was making an accusation, but he wouldn’t have protested if she had.
“I never believed you were dead, Paul.”
She’d been using his old name since he’d shown up and he hadn’t corrected her. “That’s what Brent said. How come? I saw a video of the funeral. You seemed pretty choked up.”
She frowned. “You’re right. I was convinced at first, but a few days after the funeral, I read a newspaper report that said you’d perished trying to save your animals. I remembered you mentioning months earlier that the research portion of the lab had been shut down.”
“Wow. That’s pretty clever deductive reasoning. If they’d asked me first, I would have told them to delete that part of the story. And they should have known better. My instructor always said that too many details will bring everything down like a house of cards.”
Brent still hadn’t returned. Maybe he’d wanted to give them a few moments alone. David appreciated the gesture, but his feelings for Kay had coalesced into friendship—the kind that existed between distant relatives or pals who went through hell together in college but somehow survived.
“Kay, I’m moving to Vegas. I’ve met someone. We left things kinda up in the air, so I’m not sure what I’ll find when I get there, but I have to give this a try. I think it’s best where your kids are concerned, too. I don’t know if my showing up again would cause problems between the boys and Brent, but why take chances? They probably don’t even remember me.”
She shook her head. “That’s not true. Come with me.”
He followed her through the neat, but well-lived-in house to a large oak-paneled room off the kitchen. The family room, he assumed. One wall was made up entirely of shelves and an oversize projection-type TV. Scattered amongst the books and knickknacks were dozens of framed photos.
He picked up one that had once rested on the dresser in his bedroom. His parents and him. Taken just a few weeks before their accident, this photo was one of the few his grandmother had saved. She’d claimed that looking at pictures of her daughter was too painful.
“You’ve remained a part of our family, Paul. Ariel loves this photograph. She calls you her angel. The twins used to talk about you a lot. Mostly to upset Brent, I think. They blamed him for our divorce.”
“Which is wrong. I’m to blame for that.”
When he started to put the photo back on the shelf, she shook her head and pressed it into his hands. “No. Like you said, we both made mistakes. Maybe neither of us was honest about why we got married in the first place, but that doesn’t matter now. I’m just so happy that you’re alive.”
He gave the framed picture a little shake and asked, “This reminds me. Did you keep any of my old stuff? I’d certainly understand if you didn’t, but—”
Her laugh made him stop midsentence. She looked past him and said, “Paul wants to know if we kept any of his stuff.”
David looked over his shoulder. Brent was standing there, a curious, towheaded toddler in his arms. Brent smiled for the first time. “Oh, yeah, have we got stuff. Half a garage full. My car will worship you if you take it off our hands.”
David shook his head. “You kept my crap? Why?”
“I ask her the same thing every spring and fall. She says, ‘Because I can’t get rid of it. I just can’t.’”
David looked at his ex-wife. “Why?”
A mischievous grin made her eyes twinkle. “Same reason I sold the house next door, used what I needed to to settle your affairs, then gave the rest to my brilliant, utterly anal husband to invest. Because I knew you’d be back for it.”
Brent joined them. “Anal?” he said peevishly to Kay. He handed the little boy to David then walked to a built-in desk with a computer on it. After sitting down to type in something, he said, “I’ll have you know every penny of the royalties from your patents went into a separate account. I only risked the interest in the stock market. And I did pretty damn well, if I do say so myself.”
David juggled the child who eyeballed him suspiciously but didn’t cry. “What p
atents?”
“Ray or someone in the company must have filed patents on your new formulas on your behalf. I know how focused you were on the discovery end, but someone knew there was money to be made over the long haul,” Brent said. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
“What if I’d never come back?”
Kay smiled and brushed a hand over her son’s downy hair. “We have four-going-on-five children. We’d have found a use, but the bulk I’d intended to set up as science scholarships in your name.”
The baby let out a loud sound and threw his little body sideways, nearly causing David to stumble. The boy wanted his mother and wasn’t afraid to say so. “How much are we talking?”
Kay took the child from his arms. “Show him, Brent.”
Brent got up and gave David the chair. Even at first glance, he could tell there were a lot of zeroes. “This is mine?”
“Brent’s devoted as much time and planning to your portfolio as he has ours,” Kay said.
David stood up and walked to the couple. “I don’t know what to say. I wasn’t expecting anything from you. All I was hoping for was your forgiveness.” He shook Brent’s hand. “Thank you so much.”
Kay made a sniffling sound and Brent put his arm around her shoulders. The baby tugged on his mother’s blond hair and put a few strands in his mouth.
David left a short time later—before the older children returned from school. He might see them at some point in the future, once their parents felt the time was right. Until then, though, he had a lot of things to do, starting with picking a name. Was he David Baines or Paul McAffee? A thing like that was important when a man planned on asking the woman he loved to marry him.
Chapter 19
Liz looked around the half-painted interior of her new workspace and smiled. Pristine walls, excellent ventilation and good lighting would help increase productivity once her eager workers started sealing tea bags in earnest.
The space had been provided by Mimi Simms, David’s landlady. After some debate, the older woman had decided to pocket the insurance money rather then rebuild David’s house, but she wasn’t happy not having someone or something besides a cat to fuss about, so she and Liz worked out a rental arrangement. Liz used the money that had been refunded from her adoption application to enclose a third of what had been David’s greenhouse. If he came back, he could still use the other two-thirds and the potting shed, which had escaped the fire, for his business.
If he never came back, Liz would eventually move into the rest of the space. She had a good feeling about her tea company, which thanks to word of mouth—and Romantique—was taking off.
“We are done?” Lydia asked.
Liz nodded. “Yep, Mom’s picking you up for your ESL class. I bet you can talk her into stopping at some fast-food restaurant on the way.”
The girls gave each other a high five and laughed as they stripped off their rubber gloves. They’d returned from their trip to Arizona with a renewed determination to stay in the country. A family friend had volunteered to handle their case and had already made progress. Just this morning, the postman had delivered two temporary work permits, which Lydia and Reezira showed to anyone who came near.
Liz was happy for them. In fact, she was happy. More or less. She still missed Prisha, but had finally broken down and visited the Web site that provided updates on her progress. A video had documented her first surgery. Liz’s throat had been knotted the whole time, but seeing the child smile up at her mother after the anesthesia wore off had been worth the agony.
Prisha was going to be all right. Liz knew it. The little girl was a fighter. One day she’d walk without crutches. Maybe one day, she’d visit America and come to see the woman who had loved her so dearly. Liz wasn’t giving up hope. Using Jyoti as an interpreter, Liz had been able talk to Prisha’s mother, who, to Liz’s surprise, had thanked Prisha’s “American angel” for helping to bring her daughter home.
The sound of car tires on the gravel outside made the young women squeal and race around, collecting their purses and backpacks. Liz, who planned to paint the trim until it was time to pick up her roommates at the community college, followed them outside.
“Hello, dear,” her mother called. “How’s the painting going?”
“We’re all done except the trim. I should finish that tonight, then we can move in and set up operations.”
Liz had spent a lot of time since David’s departure thinking about what she wanted to accomplish. She was tired of physical therapy, although she’d been approached by a new holistic healer in town about handling a few clients. She liked the young man’s approach and energy, and had agreed to try a test case. Maybe she’d find a balance between her new business and her former career.
“Wonderful. I had a lovely dream about you last night. I think you’re going to be wildly successful.”
Liz smiled. “Coming from you, that’s a good thing. You didn’t happen to see a tall man with a shaggy mustache in that dream, did you?”
“No,” her mother said, but she didn’t seem very sad about dashing her daughter’s hope that David would return.
“Oh.”
“Ta-ta. We have to run,” Yetta said as the rear doors of the older Lincoln slammed shut. “Oh, and Elizabeth, I’ll pick up Lydia and Reezira after class today.”
That was a surprise. “Why?”
“You’ll see.”
Then she drove off.
“‘You’ll see,’” Liz repeated. “My mother is getting stranger and stranger, Scar.”
The cat was a constant presence whenever Liz was working in the greenhouse—almost as if the animal expected Liz to magically produce his former master. Liz would have liked nothing better, but she hadn’t heard from David since he left. Not a note, e-mail, postcard or letter.
She was mad about that, and more than a little hurt. But she’d kept busy. She still dreamed about him every night. She still watered his cacti and fed his cat. She still missed him.
She returned to her new room. She’d just donned her rubber gloves and paint cap when she heard the sound of tires on gravel again. The girls must have left something behind, she figured. They weren’t the most organized thinkers.
“What’d you forg—?” she asked, reversing course.
The compact, sand-colored car wasn’t her mother’s. She recognized its distinctive style—one of Honda’s new hybrids. She’d drooled over the fuel-efficient model last week when she’d gone shopping for a new car. She was using a loaner from her cousin while she waited for her insurance company to cut her a check.
This beautiful vehicle still had the dealer plates in the window, but she quickly lost interest in the car when the door opened and the driver got out.
David.
Or someone who looked a lot like him.
Paul wasn’t sure what kind of reception to expect. He hadn’t called, figuring what he needed to say had to be said in person, but…
He took a breath and walked toward her, hand extended as if meeting her for the first time. “Hi, Liz, my name is Paul David McAffee. I’m new in town, but I’m here to stay.”
Her hand lifted, but the dazed look on her face didn’t change until their fingers met. She looked down, then up, quickly, as if confirming the touch truly belonged to the clean-shaven man in the top-end suit. At his ex-wife’s insistence, he’d visited a salon where his overdyed hair had been trimmed and styled and his shaggy mustache removed. He’d bought new clothes as soon as his identity had been cleared up and he was able to access his accounts.
He’d bought presents, too. An early Christmas for Kay’s children. Gifts from a man who would probably always be that distant uncle-figure who lived far away but sent money on their birthdays. The things for Liz’s family were in the back of the new car he’d purchased online—which had been waiting for him at the airport that morning.
“Paul David McAffee,” she said softly, her gaze searching his face, as if looking for the man she’d last
seen. Her free hand lightly skimmed the area above his upper lip. She smiled. “I like this. And your hair, too. You’re not blond.”
“This is closer to my real color,” he told her, his heart thumping so loudly he was sure she had to hear the racket. “Although the lady who worked me over said to expect some gray as it grows out.”
Her tentative smile turned into the beaming grin he knew so well and had missed so much. “Ah, well, that happens to the best of us.”
He squeezed her hand and brought it up between them to kiss her knuckles. Only then did he realize she was wearing gloves. “What are you doing here?”
She pulled her hand free and tore the gloves off, letting them drop to the ground. “Later,” she said, giving him a two-armed bear hug that made him let out a soft “Oomph.”
“Catch up. Soon. First. Kiss.”
The words were probably imbedded in sentences, but all Paul heard was the part he’d been dying to hear. He didn’t need to be asked twice. He pulled her even closer and kissed her, sharing all the emotion he’d been storing up. The separation had given his feelings time to gel. He knew who he was, what he wanted to do with his life, and how Liz fit into those plans.
The kiss might have gone on forever if not for the nail-grating screech that wound upward from their feet. Liz pulled back and laughed. “Scar,” she explained. “He’s been so unhappy without you.”
Paul put enough distance between them to look down. Sure enough, the ugly tomcat was there, winding in and out between their legs, bellowing in his distinctive but hideous voice. Paul didn’t want to let go of Liz, but felt compelled to greet his old friend. He bent over and picked up the cat.
“Hey, buddy, you’ve put on weight. Has Mimi been feeding you too much tuna?”
Liz gestured toward the greenhouse. Paul had noticed that the old foundation of his former house had been removed. The exterior and roof of the outbuildings had been repaired, and there appeared to be new, barn-type doors.
“Actually, he spends most of his time here. I’ve been keeping food out for him, but the clever old beggar is probably hitting up our landlady, too.”
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