Forever Again
Page 9
“Good,” she said firmly. “I’ve got to run now, but give me a call when you want to see Mia.”
He said goodbye, but she was already walking away. But she hadn’t turned fast enough to keep him from seeing the tears in her eyes.
* * * * *
Two weeks later, Travis sat in the emergency room waiting area, fuming and wondering where his plan had gone wrong.
It had seemed so simple at the time—stay away from Gena Taylor. If he wasn’t alone with her he wouldn’t be tempted to touch her—to kiss her again. With a little distance between them he would see he’d felt nothing for her but a passing physical attraction.
But he neglected to factor Mia into the equation. Their daughter seemed determined to throw her parents together at every opportunity and he was finally starting to realize she was doing it deliberately.
She had arranged for each of them to pick her up at the mall, then she was in the bathroom for fifteen minutes—leaving Travis and Gena to talk. She had pleaded for another movie night until they gave in, but this time he was careful to get the rocking chair before the scheming teenager did. It had been awkward—knowing they were both remembering the last movie night—but they survived without incident.
She talked her mom into going for a walk, and they just happened to be in front of Smitty’s when he left the restaurant. At first he thought it was a coincidence, but then he remembered telling her that on the days he was in New Hampshire he had breakfast there at eight o’clock every morning. They had to figure out a way to stop her. Not only was it unhealthy for Mia to continue hoping for something that wasn’t going to happen, but it was hell on him, too.
He also found spending as little time as possible with Gena wasn’t lessening his desire for her. Instead it had grown into a throbbing ache that flared whenever he saw her, and short of becoming an alcoholic, he saw no cure in sight.
It had occurred to him very late one night that he should just go for it. He should end his relationship with Kristen and see where things ended up with Gena. Maybe whatever chemistry they had between them was real.
He rubbed his hands over his face and reminded himself yet again why it couldn’t happen. The little girl who was so intent on throwing them together would be surprised to know that she was one of the biggest reasons they couldn’t be.
Mia hadn’t had to deal with the pain and confusion of their divorce because she wasn’t born yet. She just had a mom and a dad. There were no memories of a happy family for her to mourn, and there was no nasty breakup to remember. She wanted them to be together so her family would be complete, but she had no idea how much it could hurt if it went wrong.
What if he and Gena were just feeling a case of good, old-fashioned lust? Mia would be devastated if the relationship didn’t work out and she had to suffer through the inevitable ending. They had managed to put their feelings about the past into the background, concentrating on what Mia needed now. But with a breakup would come a whole new round of animosity, accusations, and anger.
He may not have been a dad for long, but he knew his job was to do whatever was best for his daughter. And if that meant exercising more control over his feelings that he thought possible, so be it.
* * * * *
Gena walked back into the waiting room and sank into a chair across from Travis. “I’m sorry she did this. Again.”
She promised herself she would have a nice long chat with her daughter when they got home. Even though she couldn’t prove it, she knew Mia’s ankle injury was fake. The doctor said it was possible she had just twisted it wrong and the pain was already fading, but Gena knew exactly what game she was playing.
“Don’t worry about it,” Travis said. “I’m just glad she’s okay.”
“Of course she’s okay. She was never hurt. And she’s grounded for the rest of her life.”
“I think what she’s doing is pretty normal under the circumstances,” he argued. “Remember—the teen mind is my specialty.”
Gena laughed. “Yes, but this is your daughter and that makes it different.”
“We should talk to her about what she’s doing and give her a warning before grounding her, although I have to admit she scared me to death. I’ve never gotten a call from the emergency room before.”
“It’s no fun. I’ve been called twice from school before, but nothing horrible, thank goodness. A bumped head one time, and two stitches in her knee the other.”
He felt a pang of regret for not knowing that. “Are we almost done here?”
“She’s done with the doctor. As soon as she gets out of the ladies’ room we can leave.”
“She does spend a lot of time in the bathroom.”
“Maybe I should put her back in diapers,” Gena muttered.
Travis laughed and she realized how much she had missed that sound. “Does she really think we’ll rekindle some fantasy romance in the time she takes in the bathroom?”
“That’s why she spends at least ten or fifteen minutes in there.” She chewed on her bottom lip for a few seconds, then asked, “How’s Kristen?”
He leaned forward and started rearranging the magazines on the table in front of him. “She’s good. We’ve done a lot of talking and we’ll be okay.”
Gena had to fight hard for the smile, but she managed. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”
Liar, she sang in her mind. A part of her wondered if the reason she hadn’t put a stop to Mia’s little game already was the fact that she would take almost any excuse to see her ex-husband.
Sometimes when she was tossing and turning in bed she would imagine the life they could have together. She could picture their wedding—a small and intimate affair at the Inn with Mia standing beside them. Then their daughter would go to a friend’s house while she and Travis spent their wedding night in bed.
But it wasn’t going to happen. Kristen wasn’t going away and Travis was no less determined to see his relationship with her work.
“Mia will be starting school soon,” Travis continued. “I’m going to keep this schedule for a few more weeks. But I’ll be spending more time in Boston again after that. We’ll need to work out the weekend and holiday thing. I’ll come up to watch her cheer when I can, and for her piano recitals.”
She had known it was coming, but it didn’t soften the blow. He wasn’t going to be a casual part of their lives anymore. There would be weekend visitations, holiday scheduling, arguments over who got her for Christmas.
“It’ll work out,” she said quietly. “We’re only three hours away from each other, so it’s not as if everything has to be written in stone.”
“There’s something else. We’re thinking about going to Mexico in the spring and we’d like to take Mia with us.” He paused and looked up at her. “There’s a possibility we’ll get married in Mexico and skip the whole big wedding thing. But we want Mia to be with us.”
And there it was. The wedding was going to take place and Travis and Kristen would live happily ever after. She was surprised it even hurt anymore. She couldn’t be sure any words coming out of her mouth would be congratulatory, so she simply nodded.
She knew he didn’t expect her to say anything. He was a smart man and he dealt with emotions for a living. She could see in his face he knew he was walking all over her heart. At least he looked sorry for it.
“I’m ready, guys,” Mia said from the doorway, and as they walked to the parking lot, Gena noticed she forgot to limp.
She waited until she was alone with her daughter and on the road home before she turned off the radio and glanced over at Mia. “Why did you call both of us?”
“I got the answering machine and I didn’t know where you were or when you would be home, so I called Dad. I guess you got the message and came too.”
“I ran to the store for milk. Why didn’t you call my cell phone?”
Mia shrugged, staring out her side window. “I forgot the number.”
“Don’t lie to me, Mia Dawn Taylor,” Gen
“What game?” Mia looked angry, but Gena knew her well enough to see the stubborn determination not to get caught. “I was hurt and needed a parent. You weren’t home, so I called Dad. What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that you weren’t hurt to begin with. You keep trying to throw Travis and I together and you need to stop.”
Mia sniffed and turned back to her window. “Believe whatever you want, Mom.”
A little bit of doubt undermined Gena’s conviction that Mia was guilty. It was possible she wasn’t doing it purposely, and there had to be many times other divorced parents bumped into each other. They shared a child, after all.
But not for a second did she buy the excuse that Mia had forgotten her cell phone number. “You can thank your father for the fact that you’re not grounded right now.”
That got her attention. “Grounded for what? For hurting my ankle?”
“For…you know what for.” Gena knew she couldn’t win this conversation. There wasn’t any way to prove Mia hadn’t hurt her ankle, or even that she hadn’t forgotten the number.
She hoped the knowledge that her mother suspected her might be enough to put a halt to Mia’s schemes, so she changed the subject. “Are you going to your dad’s tonight?”
“Yes,” Mia said in an I’m not talking to you voice.
Let her sulk, Gena thought. It was her own fault. “I thought you were. I’m going out tonight, so Donna will be at the house.”
“Where are you going?” Mia asked with a little more interest.
“To the gallery. The exhibit of Mr. Schofield’s work opens tonight.”
“Oh.” Mia slouched down in her seat. “Stained glass—how exciting.”
Gena stuck her tongue out at her daughter. “I like stained glass. Should I write my cell phone number on the back of your hand?”
“Very funny. It’s on Dad’s speed dial. I put both numbers on it, so he can always reach us. Your cell is number two.”
“That’s great,” Gena muttered. It didn’t surprise her any. Where Travis was concerned, she always came in second.
Chapter Eight
Travis opened the door, surprised to find Mia standing there. “Hey, kiddo. I forgot you were coming over tonight.”
There was still a trace of shyness about her he knew only time would erase. “Is it okay?”
“Sure.” He stepped back and let her into the small suite. “I’m going out pretty soon, but—”
“Can I stay and play with the laptop?” she interrupted.
He laughed and waved his hand at the desk where it sat. “Help yourself. You can borrow it for the night if you just want to take it home.”
She thought about it, then shook her head. “I shouldn’t. Mom would kill me if something happened to it and she had to replace it.”
There was always a little sadness whenever he saw Mia—regret for the lost years—but now it swelled up again. “She wouldn’t have to replace it, Mia. I’m your father and if you break my laptop I will take care of it.”
She smiled at him, her big blue eyes reflecting his own. “Sorry. I know…it’s just…I’ve never had a dad before, so it’s always Mom—Mom—Mom.”
“I know. But it’s okay. I’ve never had a daughter before, so we’re even.”
She grinned and flipped up the screen on the small computer. “Where are you going, anyway?”
He sighed and pulled a sour face at her. “That little gallery downtown. A guy I knew in high school does stained glass and I couldn’t think of a good reason not to go see it.”
“Oh—” she rolled her eyes “Mr. Schofield.”
“That’s the one. Are you sure you’ll be okay here by yourself?”
“Yes, Dad,” she said with an impish grin. “I won’t open the door and take candy from strangers.”
“Very funny.” He took a deep breath, searching for the right way to phrase the question he had to ask. “Did your mom talk to you about…did she have a talk with you after you left the hospital?”
Mia rolled her eyes. “Yes. I wasn’t doing it on purpose, you know. But I’ll try not to do whatever it is you guys think I’m doing.”
Not for a second did he think she was telling the truth. Those blue eyes were just a little too wide with innocence, and the corners of her mouth turned up a bit too serenely. But Gena had talked to her about it, so he hoped that would take care of it.
“You’re not going to wear that, are you?” Mia asked, but the scowl she directed at his jeans and T-shirt didn’t quite correspond with the gleam in her eye.
“Why not? It’s an art exhibit, not a fashion show.”
“You should still look nice.” She gave him a smile that should have set off warning bells and walked to his closet. “Let’s see what else you’ve got.”
* * * * *
The small gallery was nearly filled to capacity. Travis looked around while he hung his coat on the rack near the door. He remembered some of the guests from high school, but most were strangers to him.
He hated occasions like these and Kristen usually had to drag him along kicking and screaming if she wanted to see an exhibit. But Paul Schofield had been one of his best friends in high school, so when he ran into him at the store he hadn’t been able to turn down the invitation. Paul was an insurance salesman by day, but his passion was stained glass, and Travis had agreed to come, in part just to shut him up.
He saw Paul across the room and waved, then starting making his way through the crowd. Somebody pressed a sheet of paper into his hand and he looked down at the program which listed Paul’s name and the titles of his pieces. Dandelions in Sunlight…Tulip Tapestry?
Not exactly what he expected from a guy who’d been the best linebacker in their division, but he smiled and shook Paul’s hand. “Great show.”
The other man’s face glowed with pride and excitement. “This is a pretty good turnout. It doesn’t hurt that in this town there’s nothing else to do on a weekday night, but still…I’m happy with it.”
“I like the…um—roses,” Travis said, pointing to a large pane of glass which stood on a table near them.
Paul shrugged. “Flowers are good sellers. This one’s a smaller version of the one I did for the front door of the Riverside Inn.”
Gena’s house, he thought. Everywhere he turned she seemed to be there in one way or another. So many things reminded him of her—a hint of her perfume on a woman he passed by at the bank, an antique creamer he knew she would like that he spied in the window display at the secondhand shop.
“I’m glad you came,” Paul continued. “You could have knocked me over with a feather when I heard you were back in town. And the whole thing with Gena…wow.”
Travis tried to give him a silencing glare, but the man was looking around the gallery and missed it. “When I heard down at the hardware store you were the Taylor girl’s father, I thought to myself no way. I mean—you and Gena Taylor—not in a million years.
“Then I heard it somewhere else, too, and from somebody who would know. Couldn’t believe it. I thought you were dating that hot chick…what was her name?”
“I don’t remember,” he replied coldly.
He did remember, but the last thing he wanted to do was walk down memory lane again with Paul. He had been doing enough of that on his own.
“She’s here somewhere,” Paul said. “Gena, I mean.”
She’s here? He scanned the crowd again, looking for a glimmer of auburn hair. It had only been earlier that day that he told her—and reminded himself—that he was getting married in the spring, and he hated the rush of excitement he felt now. If he knew what was good for him he would just walk out the door.
Paul said he was off to mingle and Travis muttered something appropriate as he left, but he was intent on finding Gena. He couldn’t say why—they had nothing to say to each other. He just wanted to see her.
Finally his gaze locked onto her and he drew a deep breath. She was with Jill Delaney and another woman who looked vaguely familiar, but whose name he couldn’t recall.
Gena wore a short, dark green sundress with a cream sweater, and even though she faced slightly away from him, he could see from her expression she was having a great time. With her hair freed from its usual braid and swinging around her shoulders she took his breath away.
He watched her laugh at something Jill said and his stomach tightened. From where he was standing he couldn’t hear her, but he could see she was relaxed—having fun.
She was never like that with him. There was always tension—usually anger, guilt or blame. He hated the shadows he always saw in her eyes and the way her lips thinned whenever he had to say something that would hurt her.
A woman passed with a tray of drinks and he took one with a smile of thanks. He took a sip—grimacing at the tart white grape juice—without ever taking his eyes off Gena.
* * * * *
“Don’t look to your left, but he’s watching you,” Jill whispered.
Gena turned and met his luminous blue gaze, which even from this distance radiated heat. She gave him a quick, impersonal smile, then turned back to Jill before he could react.
What is he doing here? Her pulse quickened, but she forced herself to look casual. This was the last place she had expected to run into him, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to see him.
The conversation they had in the emergency room was still too fresh in her mind. Travis was getting married in the spring, so what had passed between them meant nothing to him. She could pretend it meant as little to her, but it wasn’t easy.
“I told you not to look,” Jill muttered.
She laughed, although it sounded a little forced even to her own ears. “You sound like a kid.”
“Well, you’re acting like one.”
Gena took another glass of juice from Paul’s wife as she passed by with the tray. “I am not. And if you say are too—I’m leaving.”
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