Timing Is Everything

by Steinsiek, Sabra Brown;

  “It’s all your fault, Taylor! I told you she was having headaches and I asked you to talk to her, but you just went off on your tour and now she’s never going to get well and it’s all your fault!”

  He was stunned. She was right. He hadn’t listened, hadn’t checked, had forgotten and, by forgetting, had failed Meg. It wouldn’t have changed what was happening—the doctor had already told them that—but it might have saved Meg from feeling so betrayed.

  “I hate you, Taylor Morgan. I hate you and I don’t want to be your daughter. I don’t want my mother to die…”

  “Oh, Meg,” Annie spoke softly from the doorway. Taylor turned to her, but she waved him away, going straight to Meg and pulling her into her arms. It didn’t matter that Meg was nearly as tall as she was now. Annie sat in the rocker where she’d nursed her, holding her tightly, crooning to her in that language unique to mother and child. Taylor left the room, closing the door behind him.

  It was a long time before Annie came out, looking as shattered as Meg had earlier. Taylor went to her, picking her up before she could collapse, and carried her to their bedroom where he held her much as she had held Meg. When Annie had finally cried herself to sleep, Taylor checked on Meg, who was sleeping too. Gently he pulled the sheet up over her before he left the room.

  He wanted to rage and scream at the injustice of it all, and he felt so alone. There was no one he could turn to. Annie was his best friend. She was the one who’d always listened to him, always been his solace. Turning to the only one could think of, he logged on and poured his heart out to Laura.

  She had finally answered him when he’d written to tell her that Cary had caved in and Megan was now legally his child. Her note had been reserved, but it had been the beginning of the bridge back to their friendship. He’d gotten in the habit of writing to her, and she answered occasionally. It had been a help just knowing someone was listening.

  His letter was long and rambling, filled with his grief and remorse and made little sense. But, putting it all down in writing had eased his immediate pain. It was after midnight before he finally fell asleep in the chair.

  In the early hours of the morning, he was jolted awake by something—Meg covering him with a quilt. When his eyes opened, she’d whispered, “I’m sorry, Taylor… I didn’t mean it.” He picked her up and wrapped her in the quilt with him before he’d whispered back, “I know, Meg. It’s all right. I love you.” She fell asleep then, and he held her through the rest of the night.

  * * *

  Laura continued to be there for him even though each of his messages reminded her of all they had lost. She suggested to Taylor that he give Meg her email address so she had someone to talk to who had been there. Meg discovered in Laura a place where she could express her fears, and the two of them forged an e-mail friendship.

  When school was out at the end of May, Taylor took Annie and Meg to Paris and London. The doctor had raised no objections. The tumor was still growing. Annie’s time was short and might as well be spent giving them happy memories for later. Annie was happy—as happy as she could be given the circumstances, but Taylor could see a steady change as her condition declined.

  They’d been gone three weeks and were scheduled to leave for Italy in a few days when Annie came to him. “It’s time, Taylor.”

  For a brief moment he’d seen her that other time, that joyous time, when she’d told him it was “time” to go to the hospital for Meg’s birth. This time there was no joy, only weariness as she continued, “It’s time to go home.”

  They made love that night, gently, carefully, as if afraid to disturb the delicate balance that was their life. It was the last time. Two days after they returned home, Annie lapsed into a coma. Two days later, with Taylor by her side holding her hand, she was gone. It was the last day of June, just over three months after their wedding.

  Chapter 53

  Laura,

  The funeral is over, and now Meg and I have to figure out a way to get on with our lives.

  There were a lot of people there today. Annie was loved, probably more than she ever realized. Megan did all right, considering. She’s asleep now, completely worn out. I’ve established a dance scholarship in Annie’s name. The first recipient will be announced next week, one of her graduating students. I think she would have been pleased.

  I’m not sure where we go from here. When we went to Europe, I had planned on us spending the whole summer there. I’d rented a house on the Mediterranean, and I never got around to canceling the lease. If Meg agrees, I want to go there for the rest of the summer, maybe longer.

  I can barely stand to be in this house. There’s so much of Annie here. I keep expecting to hear her call Meg or me, to see her in the garden. It’s too much right now… but you know all of that, how awful it feels.

  I don’t think I’ve remembered to thank you for letting me use you as a sounding board. It’s helped more than you can ever know.

  I’ll let you know what our plans are.

  Taylor

  He sent the message, then turned off the computer. He’d sleep in here tonight, as he’d done the last few nights while Annie was in the hospital. At least, he’d sleep if he could.

  Barefoot, he went down the hall and opened Meg’s door. She was sleeping, a pillow from her mother’s bed clutched in her arms. Suddenly, he was overwhelmed by the responsibility. Annie had trusted him to take care of Meg, but what did he know about taking care of anyone, let alone a twelve-year-old girl?

  Quietly, he closed the door. As he came back through the dining room, he saw his jacket still hanging on the chair where he’d left it this afternoon.

  Jude had come back to the house after the funeral with a few other friends. She’d stayed until almost everyone had left. Susan and Jane were in the kitchen, and Meg had long since retreated to her room.

  “Taylor, I have something for you.” She reached into her purse and withdrew two envelopes, handing them to him. One was addressed to him, one to Meg, in Annie’s handwriting. “She left them with me to deliver after…after she was gone, Taylor. You can decide the best time to give Megan hers.” She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. “She was a very special lady, Taylor. You made her very happy.”

  He’d walked her to the door, then put the envelopes in his jacket pocket before hanging it here as he went to help Susan and Jane. He hadn’t really forgotten about them; he just hadn’t been ready yet.

  He poured a glass of wine and, sitting at the kitchen table, opened the envelope addressed to him.

  My dearest Taylor,

  I want you to know how happy I’ve been to have you in my life. Not just these last few months but the years that you’ve been my best friend. I was so lucky to run into you at that audition that day. I had no idea then how important you would be to me.

  I know you, Taylor. You’re probably panicking right now because I’ve left you with someone to take care of, probably thinking you have no idea what to do. But you do, Taylor. You’ve always been good for Megan. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better for her. There is no one who could love her more, care for her more, than you. Just take it one day at a time, Taylor. It will be fine.

  I know that, despite the love we’ve shared these past few months, you’re still in love with Laura. And I know that you probably think you’ve ruined that relationship for good. I think you’re wrong, Taylor. You assured me time and again that Laura would understand. Believe in her, Taylor. Give yourself another chance at the happiness you deserve.

  Don’t wait, Taylor. Don’t worry about what other people think and say. You, of all people, should know how precious, and limited, our time can be. Don’t waste it mourning me or doing what others say is right. You’ll know when it’s the right time for you.

  Wherever I am, Taylor, I will be dancing at your wedding. Thank you for always being there.

  Be happy, my love,


  Annie

  Carefully he refolded the pages and placed them in the envelope. Putting Meg’s aside to give her in the morning, he opened the door and went out onto the deck. The night was clear, the stars shining brightly. He wanted to believe that one of those stars was Annie’s spirit, but, right now, he was having trouble believing in anything. The emotions of the day caught up with him. He didn’t have to be strong any longer and was finally able to ease his heart with tears.

  * * *

  Two days after the funeral, Laura received a package from a Florida law firm. Inside was a sealed envelope, her name written in an unfamiliar hand. A cover letter was attached:

  Dear Ms. Collins,

  Our client, Annie Morgan, left this letter with us to be delivered to you after her death. We regret to inform you that Ms. Morgan died last week, so we are hereby honoring her instructions.

  If we can be of any help, please let us know.

  Jude MacMurray

  Laura picked up the envelope and carefully opened it to find a few handwritten pages.

  Dear Laura,

  There is a lot I feel should be explained to you. I just never had the courage to do it. I apologize for that and hope you will forgive me when you’ve read this.

  Taylor married me because it was the easiest way to make it really possible for him to adopt Megan. Our lawyer was worried that if Cary chose to pursue it, he would be granted custody. Neither Taylor nor I could bear that thought. Of our few options, this was the one that offered our best hope.

  Taylor was, and is, in love with you, Laura. He told me that he has loved you from the day he met you. I realize it doesn’t seem that way, but it is true. I won’t explain for him why he left you the first time; I can only let you know what led him to leave this last time.

  He will be hurting now, and, typical Taylor, he will withdraw from the world for a while. But I am sure that, once he has had some time, he will come back to you. I’m hoping that knowing the truth will allow you to give him another chance. I don’t know how long it will take him, but I hope you still think he’s worth waiting for.

  Meg has complicated your relationship as well, I realize. Being involved with someone with an almost-teenage daughter will be harder. I know that you’ve been writing to her, and I thank you for helping her through this time. Having women like you in her life will help her fill the gap I am leaving.

  There will be those who will criticize Taylor for coming back to you, especially if it’s what they consider too soon. Don’t listen to them, Laura. Follow your heart and don’t waste a moment of the time you might have together.

  Annie Miller Morgan

  Laura put the pages down on the table and went out onto the balcony that looked out over the city. It must have been very hard for Annie to write that letter, giving a blessing to her and Taylor, she thought, as she wiped away tears.

  The thought that Taylor hadn’t left her because he didn’t care sang in her mind. In that moment, with Annie’s help, Laura was finally able to forgive him. She still loved him—and would wait until he was ready to love again.

  Chapter 54

  Having given up Meg and knowing that Laura would keep her word, Cary threw himself into preparations for his move to Ireland, arriving there one week after Laura’s visit. There had been another bombing that morning, so he was on-air within two hours of his arrival.

  He quickly found a niche in the press corps. Most of them were housed in the same hotel and were in the habit of meeting in the hotel bar at the end of the day to compare notes. His good looks brought him the female attention he felt was his due, and he was turning in brilliant reports. He was TNC’s rapidly rising star, rumored to be in the running for an anchor position. His life was right on track, and Cary was as close to happy as he had ever been.

  Not too long after his arrival, he noticed the barmaid, a leggy, redheaded local girl named Shannon Eileen O’Hearn. “Sha’leen” was the only girl and the youngest child of a large Catholic family. Sheltered all of her life, her family was only allowing her to work at the bar because her brother, Jamie, was the bartender.

  Jamie had liked the new TNC reporter right away, and was pleased when Cary turned his eye to Sha’leen. The girl could do worse than a fine American reporter, and in the guise of friendly interest, he’d learned that Cary was Catholic—lapsed, mind you—but raised in the church. He’d come from a large family who still lived in the States and seemed to have a bright future ahead of him. Jamie had no way of knowing that Cary was lying to him, making up a background to suit his own purposes, as usual.

  At first, it was just a little friendly flirting as Sha’leen served the evening’s beers. All of the male reporters flirted with her and the other women—not totally in jest—warned her away from the guys. She enjoyed the attention and was attracted to the dark-haired, blue-eyed reporter from America. Soon, Cary was hanging around after the bar had closed, sharing a drink with Jamie and Sha’leen.

  Finally, one Sunday, he was invited home for dinner. Gritting his teeth and turning on his considerable charm, he’d won over the whole O’Hearn clan and earned the approval of the patriarch.

  He was at the bar, the ever-present television tuned to the news, when he heard of Annie’s death. Taylor’s name had caught his attention, and he looked up in time to see Annie’s face as the announcer offered condolences to Taylor and “his daughter.” There was a brief glimpse of the funeral with Taylor standing next to a girl with long dark hair, his arm around her as she leaned against him.

  The news hit him harder than he would ever have expected. Annie? Dead? She was so young! His face must have changed, because both Jamie and Sha’leen had come to see if he was all right. He was surprised to find his hand shaking as he set down the glass he’d been holding.

  “That story? Annie Morgan, Taylor Morgan’s wife? We were all friends long ago in New York when Taylor was getting started in theatre and me in broadcasting. I can’t believe she’s dead.”

  Sha’leen’s hand had covered his as her brother poured something a little stronger than what Cary had been drinking. Some of the others in the bar heard his announcement as well. None of them had ever seen Cary Edwards shaken by anything, but he quickly threw it off, asking them all to raise their glasses in a toast to the memory of Annie, even as his mind calculated how to use this to his advantage.

  When the bar closed that night, Jamie left Sha’leen and Cary there with a bottle of his finest. “You’ll see she gets home safely?” he asked Cary as he prepared to lock up. Cary assured him he would, and they both waved at him as he walked out the door.

  “Your friend? Annie? You were close to her?” Sha’leen’s eyes were full of sympathy.

  “Yes, we even thought about getting married once, but her career was more important to her then. Still, I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for her.” Sha’leen reached her hand out to him, and he took it, crocodile tears in his eyes.

  “I’d best be getting you home,” Cary said in his best Irish accent. It wasn’t bad, but it made Sha’leen giggle. “Where’s your coat, darlin’?” He started to help her on with the coat when he stopped and said, “My jacket. I must have left it in my room. It looks a little cold outside. I think I’d better go get it.”

  Sha’leen wanted to wait for him there, but he talked her into coming upstairs to his room with him. “I can’t leave you down here alone, Sha’leen. What if you were carried off by a leprechaun? How would I ever explain it to Jamie or your father? It will only take a minute, then we’ll go.”

  Taking her hand, he led her to the elevator, then down the hallway to his room. He opened the door, letting her step in ahead of him, then closing it behind them. “I’ll get my jacket,” he said as he touched her cheek. “Unless…”

  He drew her into his arms and kissed her then. Sha’leen felt her knees go weak and hardly recognized the girl who was ki
ssing him back with an urgent passion. He slid her coat from her arms and let his hands wander up beneath her sweater, stroking the smooth skin of her back, as he whispered her name. He let go of her only long enough to lead her to the couch where they sat so closely together that they might as well have been one person.

  Sha’leen had never been with a man before. There had been sweaty-palmed, pimple-faced boys before, but she’d never felt this way with them, never let them get as close to her as she was letting Cary. She gasped as his hands came up to her breasts, cradling them in his hands as he rained kisses on her face and throat. She was surprised, but didn’t fight him, as he began to unbutton her sweater until he reached the swell of her breasts and undid the clasp of her bra to set her breasts free for his roaming mouth and hands. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this, knew it was wrong, but couldn’t bring herself to ask him to stop.

  Cary pulled back and looked at her. “Ah, Sha’leen, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, then stood, pulling her from the couch into his arms. She was surprised when he picked her up and walked with her through another door, gently placing her on his bed.

  “Cary…no, this is…I need to leave,” she said, trying to get up and cover her bared breasts, suddenly shy and embarrassed.

  “Shh, Sha’leen. Stay here. Let me love you. Don’t leave me alone tonight.” Cary placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back against the bed, his eyes devouring her with a look that frightened her.

  “No, Cary, please…”

  But there had been no stopping him. He held her down as he stripped off the rest of her clothing, ignoring her tears. When she tried to scream for help, he hit her, snarling at her to be quiet as he stood long enough to shed the rest of his clothes.