Close to Her Heart

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Close to Her Heart Page 8

by C. J. Carmichael


  She felt as if he’d slapped her. “I’m not your adversary.”

  “I just want to make sure I’m treating you and the baby fairly.”

  “Honestly. You don’t have to worry about me and the baby. I’m more than capable of providing for both of us.”

  When he didn’t reply, suddenly she understood that this wasn’t about his concern for her and the child. It was about covering his ass—legally and professionally. If news ever came out about this, he didn’t want to look like the bad guy.

  She stood and went to the door. “You should leave now.”

  “I didn’t say those things to hurt you. I want to help.”

  “Leave, Adrian. Now.”

  It gave her a mild amount of satisfaction to see that he hadn’t expected this reaction, and that it unbalanced him. He fumbled with his belt, then as he passed her on the way to the front door, there was an awkward moment when he tried to kiss her good-bye.

  At the door, he gave it one last shot. “I still want to be your friend, Danielle.”

  “Are you sure that’s wise? Maybe you should run that idea by your lawyer, first.”

  “Danielle—”

  He was the one who was pleading now, but she could also see relief in his eyes. No doubt he’d been worried about this “situation” for some time now and was glad that he’d finally tackled it head on.

  Pride wouldn’t let her reveal how close she was to breaking down. But she needed him out of here—fast—before it happened. Opening the door, she took his arm and almost tugged him out of her home.

  And wouldn’t you know it—at just that moment the elevator doors opened and Eliot stepped out. He looked like he was coming home late from the office, or a dinner meeting. Tall and lean in his rumpled, but expensive suit, he looked like a GQ model after a long, exhausting photo shoot.

  The two men sized one another up in a second.

  Adrian stopped trying to resist her, while Eliot put a hand on the elevator door to keep it from closing.

  “Going down?” Eliot asked, his voice hard, his gaze unflinching.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” Eliot didn’t remove his hand until the other man was safely inside.

  As for Adrian, he didn’t give Dani as much as a parting wave or even a glance. Which was just as well, she supposed. She could feel her body trembling now. A delayed reaction to tension.

  She tried to give Eliot a brief smile and close the door on him. But he wouldn’t let her get away with that.

  “You need tea,” he said. “I’ll make you some.”

  “I’d rather be alone.”

  “Like hell you would.” And taking advantage of her open door, he stepped inside.

  *

  As he filled the kettle with water, Eliot took stock of the situation. Adrian had left looking flustered, dressed in clothing appropriate for work. Dani, on the other hand was in her yoga outfit. Her hair was tangled, her skin was pale, and her hands were trembling.

  All the evidence pointed to two things. They’d had sex. Then a fight. It made him feel kind of mad that they’d had the sex. The fight part was good, though.

  He opened the cupboard where she stored tea, coffee and all her spices. “What kind of tea do you want?” He peered at the labels. “Green? Mint? Coconut Jasmine?”

  “Thanks Eliot. I know you mean well. But I don’t want tea.” She’d followed him into the kitchen. From one of the drawers she pulled out an old fashioned copper recipe box. He remembered his grandmother owning something similar.

  “What are you doing? They have recipes on the Internet now, you know.”

  “They don’t have recipes for Mrs. Bowman’s Shepherd pie.” Finding the card she needed, she pulled it out, then went to her fridge. From the freezer she pulled out a package of ground beef. “Thaw this in the microwave for me, would you?”

  He removed the packaging, found a glass bowl with a lid, and then did as she asked. By the time he was done, Dani was peeling potatoes at the sink. “If you still want to help, you could dice an onion.”

  “O-kay. But this is a pretty heavy meal for nine o’clock on a Wednesday night.” He stopped himself from adding, Didn’t Adrian at least take you out for a decent meal before you jumped in the sack with him?

  Better sense prevailed, because it had been a long time since he and Dani had had a civil conversation. He hadn’t regretted the things he’d said to her. But he did miss her. So maybe, this time, he’d be a little more careful how he put things.

  “This isn’t for us. It’s for Mr. Bowman in 806.”

  Their neighbor was in his mid-seventies, a retired dentist who had moved into the condo building after the renovation, just like the rest of them. “Didn’t his wife die last fall?”

  “She did. And he really misses her. He misses doing the morning crossword with her, taking their afternoon strolls together. And he really misses her Shepherd pie. Which is why I sometimes make it for him.”

  “That’s nice. But why now? Maybe we could do this on the weekend?”

  “Mom always told me, whenever you’re feeling sorry for yourself, the best cure is to do something nice for someone else.” Dani added water to the potatoes, then put them on to boil.

  “So we’re making Shephard Pie for Mr. Bowman?”

  “So we’re making Shephard Pie for Mr. Bowman.”

  He was going to have to go along with her madness. Because at this point it didn’t seem wise to leave her alone in a room with sharp knives. He picked up the recipe card. It was old, with slanted, feminine handwriting and a myriad of unidentifiable food splatters. “This looks complicated.”

  “It’s all about layers.” Dani was pulling condiments from her fridge now. Tomato paste and soy sauce and hot mustard. “First layer, ground beef with sautéed onions and homemade barbecue sauce.”

  He pulled out her biggest frying pan. “Check.”

  “Second layer, mixed vegetables. The frozen kind, because those are the ones Mrs. Bowman used to use.” She opened the freezer and produced such a bag.

  “Let me guess the third layer—mashed potatoes?”

  She nodded. “Topped with shredded cheese.”

  “Layers.”

  “Exactly.”

  By the time they had the onions sautéed, the ground beef browned and all of it mixed with the homemade barbecue sauce that Dani had whipped up, the potatoes were ready to be mashed, and the cheese had to be grated. In just twenty minutes they had a completed casserole on the counter, waiting to be popped into the oven.

  Eliot eyed it approvingly. “You know, I’m starting to feel a little hungry.”

  “For Mr. Bowman,” Dani insisted, covering it with foil then hiding it in her fridge. “It’s kind of late. I’ll take it to him tomorrow.”

  Then she stood back and surveyed the mess they’d made of the kitchen.

  “Feeling better?” Eliot asked.

  She started to cry.

  He’d known it was a matter of time. He’d seen how she was fighting back emotions as she cooked, often blinking rapidly, her lower lip trembling.

  “It’s not that bad,” he said. “I can have this mess cleaned up in ten minutes.” He gave it a closer look. “Make that fifteen.”

  She gave him a weak smile. “Oh, Eliot. You’ve been so nice tonight. I’m sorry about our fight. Sorry, I got so mad at those things you said.”

  Not many women looked pretty when they cried. Dani was no exception. But she did look vulnerable. And sweet. He had to fight the urge to hug her. “And I’m sorry I said them.”

  “You shouldn’t be. Because you were right.”

  Eliot had started loading the dishwasher. But he stopped when she said that. “I think you’re ready for that cup of tea now.”

  She hesitated, then nodded. “In a minute. I need to wash up, first.”

  As she headed to the washroom, he put the kettle back on, then washed the frying pan and put the pot that had been used to mash the potatoes in to soak. By the time she retu
rned, he had a cup of mint tea ready.

  They sat at the sofa, turned, so they faced one-another, Dani with her legs crossed in a yoga position that amazed him.

  “I was wrong about Adrian. I thought our relationship was going somewhere. That all he needed was time to see how we belonged together.”

  Eliot wasn’t a violent man. But his hands automatically formed fists as he recalled Adrian scurrying onto that elevator. Why hadn’t he smashed-in that guilty, but relieved-looking face when he’d had the chance?

  “He told me he was going to contact a lawyer about setting up payments for the baby.”

  “Well. That’s good, right?” At least the scum-bag was accepting some responsibility here.

  “I don’t care about the money! I can afford a baby, Eliot. What I need is someone to help me raise it. I don’t want to be a single mother. Especially if—” She stopped. Shook her head, then took a sip of tea. “I just didn’t figure I’d be doing this all on my own. I mean, he already has the responsibility of raising a daughter. He’s not like you—living a single and carefree life. I could certainly see why someone like you might baulk at the idea of becoming a dad.”

  Eliot had never thought of himself in the father role. Neither one of his older brothers was married, or had children. Yet hearing Dani dismiss his parenting abilities so quickly, was a little annoying.

  “I don’t think I’d be an awful father.”

  “That’s not what I meant. I’m not trying to insult you. I’m just pointing out that I wasn’t expecting the moon from Adrian.”

  No, not the moon. Just a wedding ring and a settled family life.

  “When I first met you, you seemed so career focused. I never would have guessed how much you wanted to start a family.”

  “I didn’t either. Not until I found out I was pregnant.” She thought for a moment. “Actually, that isn’t true. I think I wanted more from Adrian almost from the start.”

  Eliot shifted uneasily on the couch. He knew that people often settled for less than they truly wanted out of a relationship. Those were the types of people who ended up in his office. But it wasn’t just married people who made the settling mistake.

  “I get that you’re sad about Adrian. But one thing you shouldn’t doubt is your ability to be a single mother. I’ve known you for two years. And yes, you’re smart as hell and sure to go far in your profession. But you also like taking care of things.” He thought of the sickly row of plants she’d nurtured so carefully. Mr. Bowman. Hell, even Adrian—hadn’t she taken on the grief stricken widower hoping to make him happy again? “You’re going to make an excellent mother.”

  She curled her legs up, hugging her knees in a way her growing middle wouldn’t allow her to do for much longer. “Eliot, you’re going to make me cry. Admittedly not that difficult to achieve today.”

  The urge to take her in his arms hit him again. Harder this time.

  Hard enough, in fact, to make him wonder how he really felt about his next-door neighbor. If this were Miriam on the couch, crying over some problem in her life, would he feel that same urge?

  He didn’t think so.

  Which meant—maybe it was time for him to leave.

  *

  After work on Thursday, Dani delivered the Shepherd’s pie to Mr. Bowman and he was very appreciative. So at least something good had come out of her terrible evening with Adrian. Back in her condo, Dani ate a grilled cheese sandwich and followed it up with a cup of herbal tea.

  God she missed wine. Coffee, too, and the super dark chocolate she loved.

  But most of all, right this minute, she missed wine.

  She could hardly believe she’d had the guts to make a final break with Adrian. Already she missed him so much and longed to give him a call.

  No. She couldn’t let herself backslide like that. Besides, she’d sound so pathetic.

  Something else good had happened last night, at least. She and Eliot had made up. Finally. He’d been so sweet to help her with the cooking and cleaning and even letting her cry about Adrian without saying I told you so.

  But he had told her so, and in not-so-much words but the lack of them, so had Miriam.

  Yet Dani had gone full throttle into a relationship with a man who right from the start made it clear he wanted to keep her on the back burner.

  She felt like such a fool. A classic case, in fact, of a woman who should have read He’s Just Not that into You.

  If only she could understand why he wasn’t.

  She went through the checklist of reasons Adrian should love her. They had attraction, common interests—and soon, a child. Yet, for him the equation came out incomplete. Something in her was missing, she just didn’t know what it was.

  Would that same missing thing make her a terrible mother?

  Despite Eliot’s attempt to be reassuring last night, she was actually terrified about being the sole adult in charge of a child—especially one that might have extra challenges. She’d almost confessed this little secret to Eliot last night, too. What would he have said?

  Surely, he would have thought she was an even bigger fool than he already did.

  Because she’d had her chance to do extra testing and to take steps if the results were problematic—yet she hadn’t. She’d buried her head in the sand after that ultrasound. Much the way she’d avoided the truth about her relationship with Adrian.

  And now the consequences were coming.

  And they wouldn’t just be suffered by her. But by this poor, innocent baby inside her.

  Chapter Three

  June

  Though disaster was approaching on the horizon, in June the days floated by in a pleasant routine of teaching, final exams and interesting developments at the lab. Dani’s body continued to blossom and she found herself craving the bounty of fresh cherries for sale at Pike’s Market.

  Miriam and Eliot continued to support her by inventing ever new virgin cocktails recipes for their get-togethers—which were now happening every Friday without fail. Their support kept Dani from doing anything foolish like calling Adrian and begging him to get back together.

  She missed him horribly, but what was hardest to let go of, was her dream of making a family with him. She’d never met Ava, but she ached for the little girl who had lost her mother at such a young age. Dani knew she would have loved Ava like her own—if Adrian had given her the chance.

  She supposed now was the time to start adjusting to the idea of being a single mother. It seemed so easy on the Gilmore Girls. But Dani didn’t have any real life role models to follow. Back in Montana families tended to stick together, even when they weren’t very happy. Her own mother had felt trapped in her marriage, Dani knew. So much so that she’d had an affair. But even that affair hadn’t ended her marriage to Hawksley. They’d stuck together.

  Through thick and thin, sickness and health, riches and poverty—

  Her sister, Mattie, was probably one of the first in the family to ever get divorced. But at least her children were college-aged when it happened. Portia and Wren had grown up with a mother and father under the same roof—at least most of the time. Though their father had spent a lot of time on the road, a part-time father was better than no father at all.

  Which was what her poor child was going to have.

  Time and again Dani considered calling Mattie. Of all her sisters, surely she would be most likely to commiserate and to offer the words of wisdom and guidance that Dani’s mother would have given if she were still alive.

  But—Dani couldn’t.

  All her life she’d been the smart one in the family. And now she’d done so many dumb things. Unprotected sex, an affair with an emotionally unavailable man, refusing her screening tests for Downs—

  She couldn’t keep hiding these mistakes from her sisters.

  Sticking her head in the sand—yet again—wouldn’t solve anything.

  But each day seemed to take everything she had. All her strength, all her courage, all her energy. I
n the evening when Mattie, Sage and Callan were just a phone call away, Dani made other choices. TV, a book, a slow-paced run to Washington Park Arboretum.

  A few times there were phone calls from Adrian. Dani never answered and deleted the messages without listening to them.

  Cold turkey was the only way to handle this.

  Fortunately her day-to-day work routine had never involved Adrian and she managed to come up with a good excuse to miss the June faculty meeting so she didn’t even see him then.

  If he wanted to settle things between them financially with a lawyer, she wouldn’t say no. She’d put his money into an educational fund for their child. In the meantime she couldn’t handle seeing him or talking to him. She was afraid she’d cry.

  Or beg him to come back.

  Which only proved how low she’d sunk.

  Mid-June Portia finished her Spring Quarter, and Dani drove to the Pi Phi sorority house to pick her up and take her to the airport.

  Austin was on hand to see her off, looking very much the young cowboy in jeans, boots and a western-styled shirt. All he was missing was the cowboy hat. He lugged Portia’s suitcases out of her room, down to the street, then loaded the biggest into the trunk of the Volvo and jammed the smaller one into the back seat.

  Her niece looked totally adorable in a pretty summer dress and wedge sandals, her hair in soft curls around her heart-shaped face. “Thanks, Austin.”

  “I’m going to miss you.”

  “You better come and visit then.”

  “I’ve already got a few rodeos lined up in Montana,” he promised.

  Dani turned and got behind the steering wheel, giving the young couple a few moments for a goodbye kiss. Thirty seconds later, Portia got into the car and Austin closed the door.

  “Good to go,” Portia said breathlessly.

  Dani could see Austin in her rear view mirror, still waving, as she drove away from the sorority house.

  “Looking forward to your summer?” she asked once they were on the freeway.

  “Sort of. It will be good to see Mom and Wren, and to be home. But it’s going to feel different without Dad.”

  There had been times, growing up, when Dani could have done without having her father around. Times when he’d yelled at her—or worse, made her mother cry. But Wes had been a different kind of dad to the twins. When they were little, he’d give them piggy-back rides and shown them his simple—but to them baffling—magic tricks. Wes wasn’t the yelling kind, either, and though he was a tease, never did so with the intention of hurting anyone’s feelings.

 

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