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Love Lessons

Page 11

by Margaret Daley


  “I’ll be back tomorrow morning to resume our conversation, Gloria.” Dr. Richard Michaels pivoted and traversed the small entryway to the front door. “Good night.”

  Alexa slowly blew a long breath out when the click sounded, announcing his exit. “When did he come?”

  “He was only here an hour.”

  “And?” Alexa bent and picked up her backpack, her hand trembling badly as she grasped the bag to her chest, crisscrossing her arms around it.

  “There’s nothing to tell. I listened to him tell me I should come home. That I’d been gone long enough. Right before you came home he asked if I’d gotten my rebellion out of my system yet.”

  Alexa clenched her teeth together. It wasn’t her place to say anything to her mother. She didn’t want to get into the middle of a fight between her parents. “Are you gonna see him tomorrow?”

  “Since he came six hundred miles to see me, I at least owe him that, but he isn’t going to change my mind. I was smothering living under his roof. Did I tell you at the end of last week I applied for a part-time job at the hospital?”

  “No, how did you forget something like that?”

  “Because I didn’t want to say anything to you unless I got the position. They called me early this afternoon. After I talk with your father tomorrow morning, I have an appointment about my new job.”

  “Congratulations—I think. Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “I know what I don’t want. I don’t want to be a wife to a man who doesn’t appreciate me. I don’t want to be defined as Dr. Michaels’s wife. I want something that is mine.” Her mother took her hand. “You’re cold. Are you all right?”

  “I don’t know what to think, Mom. I guess I’m numb more than anything. Since I had eighteen years to learn how to deal with it, I should be able to accept by now that there are no warm fuzzies for me from my father, even after not seeing me for five years.”

  “I’m so sorry, honey. That’s why I want you to be very careful with your feelings concerning Ian. He keeps his emotions bottled up inside him just like your father.”

  Not toward his daughter.

  “You think you’re going to be able to change someone, but you can’t change a person. They are the only ones who can change themselves. When I married your father, I thought he would learn to open up to me. He never did.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me. I have no illusions about Ian.” Alexa unzipped her backpack. “Besides, Nancy gave me a scholarship application today that if I’m picked will help me fulfill one of my dreams, teaching in an underdeveloped country where I’m needed.” After removing the folder, she passed it to her mother. “I’ll get to see some of the world and help others while I teach. What could be better?”

  Having a family came unbidden into her mind. She quickly closed the door on that train of thought.

  “I know how much working and going to school has been a struggle for you, Alexa. If this is what you want, I’ll pray it happens for you.” Her mother returned the application to her.

  She hugged her mom and kissed her on the cheek. “I love you and will be behind you whatever you decide.”

  Gloria cupped her cheek, tears glistening in her eyes. “Thanks, honey. Now I better get a good night’s sleep. I have a lot to do tomorrow, not to mention I have to face your father.”

  As her mother disappeared inside her bedroom, Alexa ran her fingers over the place where her mother had touched her face. Just as Ian had earlier. The memory—so vivid it seemed as though she felt his caress all over again—mocked her decision to pursue her dream.

  “I need to go, Mom. I’m running late.” After grabbing a piece of toast and her mug of tea, Alexa headed for the front door.

  “Bye, dear.”

  Alexa threw a glance back at her mother sitting at the kitchen table, cupping her drink between her hands while she stared at the empty chair across from her. Alexa swung around in the entrance. “I’ll be praying for you.”

  “And your father.”

  Alexa continued her trek toward the foyer. Her mixed feelings toward her dad had kept her up a good part of the night. Hence the reason she was running late. She hadn’t fallen asleep until around four.

  When she hurried out onto the porch, she came to a halt. Her father was mounting the steps, his gaze locked on her. He was early. She’d wanted to be gone before he arrived. As she studied his face, she noticed the lines around his eyes, mouth and forehead were deeper. His thick, black hair was thinning on top, and his bright brown eyes were dull. And for the first time she could see a pouch where his stomach had always been flat from years of running and keeping in shape. Her father had aged more than five years and the observation held her rooted to the spot.

  He closed the space between them, his gaze never leaving her face. “You’re looking well.”

  The words were spoken as though she were a casual acquaintance. Not his daughter. No warmth behind them. No love. Her heart cracked anew and the tears she’d held back last night jammed her throat, prodding her to release them. She wouldn’t cry in front of him ever again. She’d cried a lifetime’s worth five years ago. Not now.

  “I’m doing what I love. I’m glad it shows,” Alexa said, refusing to squirm under the relentless stare probing for some weakness.

  “It does. But you would have made a wonderful doctor. I always dreamed of you taking over my practice one day.”

  Like a son would? The thought that he’d probably wanted another son to replace the one he’d lost, but had to settle for her, inundated her. “Not if I couldn’t stomach the sight of blood. I think that would have interfered in doing my job.”

  For a second the old sparkle that usually lit his eyes flashed, only to disappear before taking hold. “Yeah, that’s an inconvenience, but it’s not too late to change your mind. If you set your heart on something, you can do anything.”

  “That was the problem. My heart wasn’t ever set on being a doctor.” She lifted her chin. “And whether you approve or not, I’ve gotten where I am totally by myself and I’m doing just fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a job I have to go to.” She descended the first step.

  “Alexa, I’d like to take you to lunch today. Are you available?”

  At the bottom of the stairs she looked up at him, standing tall, commanding, demanding. “Why?”

  “Because I haven’t seen you in five years.”

  The denial was on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to say it. But couldn’t. “I don’t know,” she finally answered, her stomach churning, sweat popping out on her upper lip.

  “Check with your employer and give me a call. I’ll be here with your mother.”

  No “I’ve missed you.” No “I love you.” She spun on her heel and marched toward her car. How many times had she wanted to hear him tell her he loved her over the years until she’d finally resigned herself to the fact he wouldn’t? Now he’d come in and opened all those healed wounds.

  Alexa paused in the entrance to Ian’s office. “I know Madge is here and can keep an eye on Jana, but I wanted to let you know I’m leaving for lunch with my father. I shouldn’t be gone more than an hour. Are you okay with this?”

  Ian smiled. “All the extra time you’ve spent here, I’m more than fine with it. If you need longer, take it. I’ll make sure Jana does the schoolwork you’ve left her.”

  “I won’t be more than an hour.”

  Ian’s forehead creased. “Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t want to meet with my father. I’m not looking forward to this. I can’t imagine we’ll have much to talk about.”

  “Does he still want you to be a doctor?”

  She nodded.

  “I’d love for Jana to be a CPA like me. It’s a good job, and she’ll be able to make a good living doing it, but I’ve given up on that. Numbers and Jana don’t get along. I’ve accepted that, but it won’t stop me from trying to guide her toward a stable career.”

  “Guide and insist are
two different things.”

  “Maybe he just wants to talk about your mother.”

  “Maybe. I’d better go. I’m meeting him at the restaurant at Tallgrass Inn.”

  Alexa left Ian’s house and rushed toward her car. She’d just have enough time to get to the restaurant if the traffic cooperated. She turned the key in the ignition. Nothing. Not even a grinding sound like she’d had once before. Dead. She laid her head against the steering wheel and closed her eyes.

  What do I do? I don’t have Dad’s cell number. Mom’s at her meeting at the hospital. She had to go in and call the inn. A phone call she dreaded.

  She climbed from her car, covered the distance to the house and rang the bell. Ian opened the front door half a minute later.

  “My car’s dead.”

  “Probably the battery. I could give you a jump, and you could go to a store and get it replaced.”

  “I don’t have time to deal with that. I can call my cousin, and he’ll come take care of it later.” Her left thumb kneaded her right palm. “I’ve got to get a taxi and get to the restaurant now.” Her voice rose with a frantic ring to the words. Being on time had always been important to her dad, and she had disappointed him on a number of occasions.

  “Then let me take you to meet your father. I have some errands that I was going to do later. I’ll just do them now.”

  “You don’t mind changing your plans?” She eased up rubbing a sore spot in the middle of her hand.

  “I know a young lady who told me I need to be more flexible. No, I don’t mind. Let me go tell Madge and Jana where I’m going.”

  “Thank you.”

  Alexa paced the length of the porch while she waited. She’d psyched herself up for this meeting, and she wanted to get it over with. She’d meet with her dad then she could go on about what she was doing with no regrets. The rest was in the Lord’s hands.

  “Ready?” Ian closed the front door.

  “Yes,” she said as though she were preparing to stand before a firing squad.

  Ten minutes later and five minutes late, Alexa opened Ian’s car door and exited.

  “I’ll be back here at one. Okay?” Ian sent her a smile. “You’ll do fine. If he didn’t care about you, he wouldn’t have asked to meet with you today.”

  Alexa walked toward the inn, Ian’s last statement replaying in her mind. That simply wasn’t true. Her father had never shown her the kind of love that Ian showed his daughter every day. The way her dad dealt with people was to order and control. It had nothing to do with caring about them.

  Standing in the entrance into the restaurant, she scanned the patrons and found her father seated along the wall at a table for two. A frown marked the lines on his face and emphasized the type of hour she would have. Tension bubbled in her stomach, making any thought of eating nearly impossible.

  When she appeared at his side, he looked up, and his frown dissolved. Her eyes widened at the sight as his mouth tilted up in a half grin.

  “I thought you were going to stand me up.” He gestured toward the chair across from him. “Sit and let’s order.”

  “I’m not hungry. I’ll just have a cup of tea.” Something that will calm my nerves.

  “Fine.” He waved for the waitress, and when she came over to the table, they gave her their orders.

  After the young woman left, her father asked, “Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m okay. Just not…” She wasn’t going to do it—sit here and act as if they had a normal father/daughter relationship where pleasantries were exchanged and all was well with the world. It wasn’t. “To tell you the truth, my stomach is in knots because I haven’t been looking forward to this lunch.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you? You kicked me out of the house and told me if I didn’t do what you wanted not to come back.” Now that the dam on her anger had cracked—the way her heart had all these years ago—she couldn’t stop herself. “Why do you want to talk to me?”

  He blinked rapidly, averted his gaze for a long moment, then fastened it back on her face, a softening in his expression for a few seconds before it gelled into its usual sober expression. “I wanted your help with your mother. I wanted you to help me make her see what a mistake she’s making.”

  “Ah. Now I understand.” She clutched the edge of the table and leaned forward. “If she wants a job, what’s the harm? People have to live their own lives.” She realized she wasn’t just talking about her mother anymore.

  “And throw away twenty-five years?”

  “Why can’t you let her be herself?” She couldn’t stay. She couldn’t pretend this wasn’t also about her, too. Bolting to her feet, she stared down at him, his expression unreadable. She searched his dark eyes and saw no love in their depths. She saw nothing. “I can’t do this. You’ll have to work it out with Mom. Don’t drag me into the middle.” She’d said more than she’d ever intended.

  She turned to leave.

  “Alexa, I need your help.”

  She glanced back, and for the briefest moment she glimpsed hurt before he quickly masked it. “I can’t.”

  With hurried steps she moved toward the exit, seeking only to escape before she released the tears that clogged her throat, choking off any decent breath. Her lungs burned from the lack of oxygen. At the restaurant entrance she chanced a look back and found her father weaving his way through the crowded tables toward her.

  Please, Lord, I can’t handle this. Help me.

  Just short of running, she made it outside. The welcoming cold of the air bathed her hot cheeks. She looked up and down the street, trying to find a place to hide until Ian showed up. When she saw his car parked in the lot beside the inn, she trembled with relief as she rushed toward Ian’s vehicle.

  When she climbed into his white sedan, she asked, “Can you leave right now?”

  “Are you okay?”

  Her father stopped at the edge of the parking lot and stared right at her. She twisted toward Ian. “No, I can’t talk with him right now.”

  Ian started the car and pulled out of the space, avoiding the area where her father still stood, watching her.

  After her dad disappeared from her view, she relaxed against the cushion, flexing her hands to ease the tension from fisting them. “Why didn’t you run your errands?” Was that my voice that shook?

  “I did one then I just had this feeling I needed to come back to the inn and wait for you.”

  “I’m glad. I didn’t want to have that conversation on Main Street.”

  “What conversation?” Ian slid her a glance, full of compassion.

  That look unleashed the emotions bottled up for years—ones she hadn’t even been able to say to her father. “Why doesn’t he love me? What did I do wrong?” Tears leaked down her face, and she tried to brush them away but more instantly replaced them. “I tried all my life to please him until I couldn’t do it anymore.”

  Ian turned into a nearly deserted parking lot and stopped the car away from any nearby people. Twisting toward her, he settled his arm along the back cushion. “Is that when you left home?”

  She nodded, the lump in her throat so huge she didn’t think she could say anything. And the tears still flowed from her as a turmoil of feelings—worthlessness, guilt, sadness that she’d kept suppressed—flooded her.

  Ian drew her to him, encircling her with his warm, protective embrace that conveyed support, that he cared about her.

  She sobbed against his shirt, wishing she had been able to change what had happened, wishing she knew why she wasn’t worthy of her father’s love. Slowly she focused on the feel of Ian’s hand as it stroked the length of her back over and over.

  She finally heard his soothing words, “It’s okay, Alexa. Let it all go.”

  Embarrassment washed over her, her wet-streaked cheeks flushed with heat. She’d never intended to fall apart in his presence. She pulled back, wiping her hand across her face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what overcame me.”
r />   “Your father hurt you. You can’t keep that inside forever.”

  For a flash she got a peek at Ian’s own hurt, caused by his wife. She wanted to know so much more about the man who held her while she cried about all the regrets of her childhood. Not once had her father held her and let her cry because she was hurting.

  “You want to talk about it? It might help.”

  The earnest appeal in his blue eyes unraveled her newly pulled-together composure. The tears threatened again as she looked at him. No more! She couldn’t change what happened and no amount of crying would rewrite her past. She swallowed several times. “All my life my father demanded I do things his way, saying that he knew what was best for me. What subjects I should take in school. What extracurricular activities I would do. For the record, I hated piano lessons and had to endure them for ten years. I wanted to do debate. He thought I should be in the science club and concentrate on that because he wanted me to become a doctor. There were times I didn’t feel like I was living my life but his.”

  “There are some parents who don’t care enough what their children are doing. At least he wasn’t that way.”

  “But I was miserable. And even when I did what he’d ordered, whatever I did wasn’t good enough for him. He wanted me to do even better. I can’t remember him telling me he loved me. I needed to hear that. I needed to hear occasionally I was doing a good job.”

  “Did you ever tell him how you felt?” Ian kneaded his hand into her shoulder, easing the tension gripping her.

  “I didn’t dare until that last year at home. After Daniel died unexpectedly, my life fell apart. Daniel and I had planned to marry after a year or so at college. I needed my father to love me. Instead, all he did was tell me his plans for my future. If it hadn’t been for my mother, I don’t know what would have happened. I felt myself coming apart. Finally I graduated, and a month later I left.”

  “What did he say?”

  “I wrote him a note. I did tell Mom right before. I didn’t want her to worry about me, but I couldn’t face him with what I was going to do. I got in the car and drove until I ended up here. I had some cousins who lived here, and it looked like a nice place to live and go to college.” The feel of his fingers massaging her tight muscles made her relax back against the cushion, close her eyes for a moment and savor the bond between them.

 

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