A Love Rekindled

by Margaret Daley

  He nodded, tears running down his still-red cheeks.

  Grasping him against her, she slowly made her way to his bedroom. His shaking trembled through her. When she entered, she headed straight for the bed and helped her dad sit down, then took the place next to him, her arm still about him while she held one of his hands.

  “I’m not crazy. I just don’t…” His words ended on a sob, and he lowered his head until his chin touched his chest.

  “I’m here to help, Dad. Let me. You need to let Dr. Blackman know what’s going on with you. Cody needs to talk to him. There’s nothing wrong with getting the help you need.” She’d discovered that when she’d ignored fifteen years of heartache to ask Zane to repair Bienville.

  He buried his face in his shaky hands. “I feel like I’m falling apart.”

  Maggie stepped into the entrance of the room and nodded her head, mouthing, “They’re coming.”

  “Both Dr. Blackman and Cody are coming to help. Please let them.” Kim stroked his back, trying to convey a calm she didn’t feel inside. Seeing her father like this unnerved her more than when Scott walked away from their marriage. She’d known that was over when he’d refused to have anything to do with Anna. But she couldn’t give up on her dad.

  “Where’s that release? I’ll sign it. Anything to stop this.” He directed his look at her. “I almost hit Tom Davidson. I just lost it.”

  “Maggie, I left my purse with the release in my bedroom. Will you get it for me?”

  Her cousin left, returning a minute later with Kim’s purse. Maggie gave it to her.

  After digging in her bag for a pen, Kim unfolded the release and placed it on the hard surface of her purse for him to sign. Her dad scribbled his signature, then sank back on his bed. Closing his eyes, he laid his arm across his forehead and drew air in through his nose then released it through his pursed lips.

  A bell chimed, indicating someone was at the upstairs back door in the game room. Maggie whirled around and went to answer the door. Kim rose and lifted her father’s legs onto the bed.

  “Are you feeling better?” she asked him.

  He inhaled and exhaled several more deep, relaxing breaths. “I don’t lose control.”

  Kim glanced at the doorway. “Dr. Blackman is here to see you.”

  The man entered, and Kim met him halfway across the room. She moved close to tell the doctor what happened with Mr. Davidson.

  She was halfway through the description of what she saw when her father pushed himself up on his elbows and said, “You don’t have to whisper. It’s no secret that I screamed like a banshee at Tom for using his electric saw to fix my house—something that needs to be repaired and I want repaired. Charles, I lost it.”

  “Let me check you out, then we’ll talk. It may be a good thing for you to go to the hospital.”

  “No. No hospitals. My wife went to one and never returned home.”

  “I’ll be in the game room, Dr. Blackman. Dad’s new counselor is coming. He and Dad talked today. He might have some insight.”

  “Dr. Weston arrived when I did. I’ve worked with him concerning several of my patients.” The doctor walked to the bed and put his black bag on the table next to it.

  Kim closed the door and went to the game room where Mr. Davidson, Zane, Maggie and Cody waited for her. Kim’s gaze shifted from one to the other, detecting worry in their expressions.

  She bridged the distance to Tom Davidson. “I’m sorry for what happened in the bedroom. My father isn’t himself.”

  “I know. I understand.”

  For a long moment, the connection between her and Mr. Davidson remained as though no one else was in the room. Everything in the past didn’t matter anymore to Kim. She saw genuine sympathy in the older man’s eyes. Had some of what her father was experiencing been like what he’d gone through with his addiction to alcohol? The loss of control. The denial. The anger festering inside.

  Zane appeared at her side. “How about you? Are you okay?”

  “Honestly? I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. On the ride back from Cody’s office, we talked about what was going on, and he denied he had a problem.” Kim peered toward the counselor. “He refused to sign the release. At least in the car.” She held out the paper. “He did after he lost it. I hate that it took those actions to get him to acknowledge something is wrong, but maybe something good will come out of it.”

  “I don’t know about y’all, but I could use a big cup of coffee.” Maggie strolled to the kitchen part of the room and began making a pot.

  Kim sank onto the couch, wishing the soft cushions could swallow her up, shield her from what was going on. She was glad the kids were at friends’ houses today. The words spewing from her father’s mouth had burned her ears. She’d never imagined hearing him talk like that. He’d always been an example of a Southern gentleman, but the man in that room a while ago hadn’t been the father she knew.

  While Kim rested her head on the back of the sofa, Zane, Cody and Mr. Davidson took a seat.

  “Kim, what do you want us to do about making repairs?” Zane settled next to her on the couch.

  “I don’t know. Dad wants the house back to the way it was. I think that will help him.”

  “It’ll be hard to do without making noise.” Mr. Davidson crossed his legs and took the mug of coffee Maggie passed to him.

  “I know. What do you think, Cody?” Kim straightened and picked up her drink that Maggie placed on the table next to her.

  “Dr. Blackman may prescribe some medication for Keith, but that may take a while to get into his system. You might have to get creative or postpone having your house repaired, which I don’t think is a solution.”

  “Part of the problem is that Dad has been cooped up in this house way too long. I need to get him out more.”

  Maggie stood behind Mr. Davidson and sipped her coffee. “Why not see if Ruth can help us? Uncle Keith has agreed to be her campaign manager. Maybe she can get him out of the house to work on her campaign.”

  “I imagine you wouldn’t have to do it for long. He’s hypersensitive about things like sound and touch right now, but with the right medication, he’ll be able to cope.” Cody glanced toward the doorway.

  Dr. Blackman came into the room. “I could use a cup of that great-smelling coffee.”

  While Maggie went to fill him a mug, he sat in the last vacant chair and put his bag on the floor next to him.

  “How’s Dad?”

  “I’ve given him something to help him sleep. He’s exhausted. Why didn’t he tell me he wasn’t sleeping when I saw him a few weeks ago?”

  “You know Dad. He hates to admit to anything being wrong. The insomnia has gotten worse in the past week or so.” It was about the time Zane had come back into their lives. Had she added to her father’s stress? All she’d wanted to do was make their situation better so her dad would become himself again. She peered toward Zane and became trapped in his dark blue eyes. She saw the same question in his gaze.

  “Dr. Weston, I understand Keith signed a release for us to talk. Do you have a few minutes right now?”

  “Yes.”

  Kim rose. “We’ll leave you two alone, then.”

  Zane came to his feet at the same time his father did. “I need to get back to the school. Dad, why don’t you come help me there?”

  “Sure, son.”

  Maggie left the house first and headed toward her garden. While Mr. Davidson descended the staircase, Zane remained on the landing.

  He grasped Kim’s hand. “Dad really is okay about what happened.”

  “I’m not. My dad scared me. I’ve never seen him like that. He doesn’t lose it.”

  “We all have the capability to lose it at any time.”


  “Yeah, that’s called stress, and it’s taking its toll on Dad.”

  Pulling her to him, he held both of her hands, the only barrier between them. “How about you? What’s happening has to be affecting you, too.”

  Her pulse rate accelerated. She wouldn’t be surprised if he felt it beneath his fingertips near her wrist. “I’m not quite ready to go running down the street stark raving mad. A few more months like the last ones, however, might change that.”

  The corners of his mouth hitched up. “Just give me fair warning so I can run for cover.”

  “Chicken.”

  “You got it. A smart man learns from his mistakes. A really smart man learns from other people’s mistakes.”

  The warmth in his eyes and touch urged her to snuggle against him. She tamped down that feeling. She didn’t need to add more stress to her already-strained life, and getting involved with Zane again would do just that. He wasn’t the answer for her—only a diversion she couldn’t afford. Right now her father needed her, and that was where she should put all her energy.

  He grazed his finger across her cheek. The roughened pad illustrated a man who worked with his hands. “Take care of yourself or you won’t be able to take care of your father.” After giving her a quick hug, he stepped back, dropping his arms to his sides. “When you figure out what you want me and Dad to do about the house, let me know.”

  “I will.” She leaned back against the wooden railing of the gallery and watched him take the stairs down to the ground.

  At the bottom, he peered back at her and smiled—that brilliant, dazzling one that rivaled the sun on a bright day. She nearly melted into the floor of the gallery. Strengthening her grip on the wood, she managed to stay upright.

  After Zane disappeared from view, she stared at the door into the game room. She should go in and see what Dr. Blackman thought after talking with Cody. But she couldn’t just yet. She rounded the side of the house and walked to the front. From this height she could glimpse the Gulf in the distance. The water reminded her of Zane’s eyes—blue and glittering in the sunlight.

  She needed to spend less time with Zane and more time with her dad. He needed to be reassured their life would return to normal in due course—even if she had to wait to get the interior of the house back to the way it was. She would do what she could to the upstairs until her father was better. His well-being was top priority.

  For a few moments longer, she relished the light cool breeze laced with a salty tang before she went back into the game room. Both men looked toward her when she came inside.

  Taking a chair, she folded her hands in her lap and asked, “Have y’all decided what’s wrong?”

  “Dr. Weston feels that your dad is suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. I’ve seen some cases since the hurricane and so has Dr. Weston. But I’ll know more after I run some tests. I want your father in my office first thing on Monday. Once I rule out something going on with his illness, I’m encouraging your dad to talk with Dr. Weston on a regular basis for a while. I’ll prescribe some medication that should help his anxiety and depression while he’s getting counseling to deal with the stress. He has a lot of anger built up that he needs to find a better outlet for.”

  “What about continuing the repairs on the house?” Her role had shifted over the past few years as her dad’s illness had progressed, which probably fueled his stress and anger, too. He had been the provider for the family. Now he had to depend on her.

  Dr. Blackman and Cody exchanged looks before the counselor said, “We discussed this. I think ultimately the repairs to the house are important to your father’s frame of mind. Give me a couple of weeks to work with him and for the medication to take effect. Then you should be able to resume work, especially if you’re able to get him out of the house more. I’m not sure even I could take constant hammering and sawing without breaks.”

  “Now that our roof has been replaced, that should work out for everyone.” And the time away from Zane would give her a reprieve, a chance to deal with her changing feelings for him.

  Chapter Nine

  Over a week later, Zane approached Kim in the hall at Hope Community Church after the late service. “I was beginning to think you were avoiding me again.”

  “Again? Me?” Mischief flirted with her blue gaze.

  “Yes, and you know exactly what I’m talking about, but then I did my fair share of avoiding you, too.”

  She tilted her head to the side and peered up at him through lowered eyelashes, something she often did when she was trying to make a point. “Except for the house, when do we see each other?”

  “What prompted you to come to the late service? Usually when you come to church it’s the early one.” Before, he’d known that was her routine when she did come to church and made sure to avoid the early service as she had the late one.

  “Dad. He wanted to come this Sunday, and first service is too early for him. He doesn’t move as fast as he used to, so it takes him longer to get going in the morning.”

  The Keith Sommerfield he’d known years ago had been a power to reckon with. There was little left of that person, stamped out by the disasters that had befallen him. When Zane was younger he would have gloated over that. Not now. He’d wanted revenge, but he’d never wished for the man to lose his business and a good part of the land surrounding his family home. Those losses had stripped the man of his identity.

  Zane searched the large room and found Keith talking to his father. “Your dad is looking better. Should we rescue them?” He nodded toward the pair on the other side of the hall.

  “No, one of the reasons he came this morning was Maggie said your father has been coming lately with you. Dad needed to apologize again to him. He’s been talking with Cody every other day for the past week and working through some of his problems. That man is perfect to work with my father. He won’t let him get away with much.”

  “If there are no more supply problems, the school will be finished after this week. You asked me to schedule your home repairs after that.”

  “So the school might not be ready to move into this coming weekend?”

  “It’s gonna go down to the wire to be ready by Friday for the decorating committee to prepare for the grand opening.”

  “What supply problems?”

  “Things like the paint. There was a fire at the factory that has shut down their operations for a few days. I’m thinking of painting the rooms orange or cherry red.”

  “Oh, please, no. That’s bound to cause the children to bounce off the walls. Cool green or blue would be better.”

  “It might be that or plasterboard white.”

  “White I can live with.” She hesitated for a moment then said, “Remember, I offered to help paint if you needed an extra pair of hands. Maggie, too.”

  “I can’t ask you—”

  “Zane, I’ve got a proposition for you. We’ll paint, and you can deduct what you think we’re worth from your bill for repairing our house. I know you aren’t charging us for labor so consider it your tip.”

  Laughter welled up in him. “Tip? You make me sound like a waiter.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with waiting tables. Didn’t you do that for a while in high school?”

  “Yes, my second job to earn money for—” He suddenly snapped his mouth closed.

  “For what?”

  He stared at their fathers still having a conversation. His dad had a neutral expression on his face. Not bad, considering how he’d felt about Keith Sommerfield several weeks ago.

  “Zane?”

  “For prom and—” he cleared his throat as thoughts of that night fifteen years ago flitted through his mind “—for your engagement ring.”

  “My engagement ring? You never said anything
about that.”

  “It was gonna be a surprise the night of prom.” It hadn’t been much—a fourth of a carat diamond—but to him it had been simple and elegant, something that personified Kim. Sitting in jail that evening, he’d realized he’d been a fool to think it was enough for Kim. She’d deserved so much better, and he couldn’t give it to her. At nineteen, he’d thought material objects were important. Now he knew there was a lot more than that. Material possessions didn’t keep the loneliness at bay.

  “Oh. A lot changed that night.”

  “I grew up fast.”

  “So did I.”

  His gaze bound to hers, the air charged between them. “I’ll give you a call about the painting. It may not be until Wednesday or Thursday.”

  “Cutting it close.”

  “Yup. But it should dry overnight in time for the decorating committee.”

  “Are you going to the grand opening?”

  “I love a good Mardi Gras party.”

  “Costume and all?”

  “I’ve been known to don one in New Orleans.”

  “This I’ve got to see.”

  Her scent of jasmine toyed with his senses. Her nearness even in a sea of people affected his heart rate. He probably shouldn’t ask this, but he’d missed her this past week. He’d even driven by her house late one night—not a good sign.

  “Do you want to go together?” The invitation came out before he could stop it.

  “A date?”

  Although he hadn’t had time to go on many dates lately, working sixteen-hour days, he’d done his share of dating. But at the moment the word terrified him, its implication taking what was happening between them to a whole new level. “That’s up to you.” He was a chicken, avoiding a direct answer, but her expression had settled into a neutral one, much like his father’s a few minutes ago—one he couldn’t read, one that gave him no indication of where he stood with her.

  “Then let’s keep it between friends.”

  “Of course,” he murmured, trying to keep the disappointment from his voice. “I can pick you up at seven on Friday. What about Anna?”