One True Love

by Barbara Freethy

  Lisa stood up, put her arms around Maggie and hugged her tight. "A mother who is at the end of her rope."

  Maggie stepped back with a sigh. "I love them. You know I do, but--"

  "But you've been on your own for the past year."

  "Yes," Maggie's mouth trembled. "I hate failing."

  "You're not failing. You're just being human. You want to get away, Maggie? Just go. I'm here. I'll watch the kids. Check into a hotel for the next two nights, pamper yourself. You deserve it."

  Maggie's eyes lit up. "Really? I wanted to ask you, but I wasn't sure. Although I have to admit I already packed my bag." She paused. "You would really do this for me, Lisa?"

  "What are friends for?" Lisa looked into Maggie's eyes. "I should have been here for you. I should have taken care of you the way you took care of me. I was incredibly selfish. And I am so sorry. I know it's not enough to say that. I wouldn't blame you if you hated me."

  "I don't hate you," Maggie said softly. "I know why you've stayed away. You're afraid to love people. You always have been."

  "Afraid -- don’t be silly."

  "I'm not being silly. We may not have seen each other much the past eight years, but I still know you better than anyone else. I remember all those nights we slept out in my parents' backyard. I'd look up at the stars and dream up a wonderful story about my future husband and children and house in the suburbs. You wouldn't let yourself dream, not even then."

  "I did dream once. Look where it got me."

  "You could have tried again."

  Lisa shook her head. "I'll never try again, not like that, not with so much of me on the line."

  "You're getting married in a few weeks. Does your fiancé have any idea how much you're holding back?"

  Maggie's words hit too close to the mark. "I thought we were talking about you."

  "I'm worried about you, too, Lisa."

  "I'm fine. Now, do you need some money for a hotel?" Lisa asked.

  "I've got a credit card. I'm just not sure if I should leave the kids."

  "Because of me?" Lisa asked. "I'd understand if..."

  "No, God no. How could you even think that?" Maggie paused, taking Lisa's hands in hers. "You still blame yourself, don't you, even after all these years? Why can't you let it go?"

  "Because it's always there."

  Maggie sighed. "Yes, I guess it is."

  "Speaking of letting something go -- you’re not thinking of chasing down this Serena Hollingsworth, are you?"

  "No, of course not," Maggie said quickly.

  "Honey, there's no point."

  "I know that. I do," she added.

  Before Lisa could say anything else, the doorbell interrupted their conversation.

  "Who could that be?" Maggie muttered.

  Lisa's stomach twisted into a knot. Please, God, don't let it be Nick.

  Slowly, she followed Maggie downstairs.

  Maggie opened the front door and gasped. "What on earth?"

  Lisa peered over Maggie's shoulder. On the porch stood a short, stocky older man with a square face and the blackest, bushiest eyebrows she'd ever seen. His right hand was clasped around the neck of Maggie's thirteen-year-old daughter, Roxanne, and his left hand was around the neck of a pimply-faced adolescent boy.

  "I was checking the perimeter of the property, Mrs. Scott, as I do every evening, and I caught these two trespassers at 1900 hours in the back alley," the man said, stating his report as if he were in the military. "I'm sorry to report there was mouth-to-mouth contact."

  "Mouth-to-mouth?" Maggie repeated in a daze, looking at her daughter's guilty face. "You're supposed to be in your room, not in the back alley."

  "I was giving Marc the homework assignment," Roxanne muttered.

  "Since when are you studying mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?"

  "Mom, you're embarrassing me." Roxy slid a sideward glance at the boy, who was staring at the shoelaces on his tennis shoes.

  "I can't begin to tell you what you're doing to me," Maggie declared. "Thank you, Mr., Bickerer. I'll handle this now."

  "As you wish, Mrs. Scott." Mr. Bickerer saluted her, turned on one sharp heel and walked down the path to the sidewalk.

  "You can go home now, Marc," Maggie said, drawing Roxanne into the house.

  Marc ran off as if he'd been released from a cannon.

  Once the front door closed, mother and daughter stared at each other in bewilderment, neither one understanding the other.

  Finally, Maggie threw up her hands. "I'm leaving," she said.

  Roxanne's mouth dropped open. "You're going away?"

  "Yes, for the weekend. Aunt Lisa will stay with you."

  Aunt Lisa. Lisa shivered at the words. She hadn't thought of herself as Aunt Lisa in a very long time.

  Roxanne sent Lisa a skeptical look that reinforced her doubts about her ability to care for three children, especially one intent on kissing boys in the back alley.

  "Why can't Uncle Nick stay with us?" Roxy asked her mother.

  Nick. Lisa couldn't stop the automatic, stomach-twisting knot that came with the mention of his name.

  "Because I don't know where Uncle Nick is. I left him two messages, and he didn't call me back." Maggie took a few steps toward the kitchen and cupped her mouth. "Dylan, Mary Bea, come here."

  Dylan ran in from the kitchen, Mary Bea wandered down the hall, holding her blanket in one hand, her other thumb planted firmly in her mouth.

  "I'm going away for a couple of days," Maggie said. "Your aunt Lisa will watch you."

  "Where are you going?" Dylan asked.

  "I'm not sure. I'll call you tomorrow and tell you where I am." She turned to Maggie. "You met Mr. Bickerer. Harry is his first name. He's a retired marine sergeant and guards this neighborhood as if it were Fort Knox. No one comes on to this property without Harry knowing about it. In fact, he almost shot the gardener once."

  "That's comforting."

  "I've written everything down on a piece of paper." Maggie looked around. "Where did I put that paper? Oh, I know I left it upstairs on my dresser. I wrote down the name of the kids' pediatrician, our insurance plan, my permission in case you need to take them to the doctor. I'm not sure where I'll be, but I'll call and leave you a number. Let's see what else?" Maggie ran a hand through her hair. "I also wrote down the kids' schedule, it's on the refrigerator. Oh, this is so complicated. How can I go?"

  "Just go. We'll be fine."

  "Why are you leaving? Mommy?" Mary Bea asked, her eyes welling with tears.

  "Because Mommy needs time to relax, so she can stop yelling so much." Maggie squatted down and drew her two younger children into her arms. They hugged for a long minute. Then Maggie opened one arm and motioned for Roxy to join them. After an awkward, reluctant moment, Roxy shuffled forward and hugged her mother.

  This time when Maggie drew away there were tears in her eyes. "I love you guys, very, very much. But I have to get away -- just for a little while."

  "Are you coming back?" Mary Bea asked.

  Maggie drew in a sharp gasp of breath. "Of course I'm coming back."

  "Daddy didn't."

  "She's not going to die, stupid," Roxy said sharply.

  "I'm not stupid," Mary Bea protested.

  "Yes, you are."

  Maggie sent Lisa a helpless, desperate look. "I -- I can't do this. It's too selfish, irresponsible. The kids need me."

  "They need you healthy and happy and strong." Lisa picked up the overnight bag Maggie had set by the front door. "We'll see you on Sunday."

  "Will you be okay, Lisa?" Maggie asked.

  "We'll all be fine. Don't worry about a thing."

  Maggie kissed each one of her children, then fled.

  For one long minute the house was filled with disbelieving silence. The children looked from one to the other, confused, unsure of what had happened.

  Lisa couldn't blame them. She might be Aunt Lisa, but in truth she was a stranger. She hadn't spent any time with these kids. She was
Roxanne's godmother, but aside from sending her a Communion gift and cards on birthdays and Christmas, she barely knew the girl. And Mary Bea had been a baby when she'd last seen her. As for Dylan, Lisa remembered when he'd been born, just a month before Robin.

  Robin would have been his age now, his size. Lisa's breath caught at the thought. How could she bear to be around Dylan, Roxy and Mary Bea, to see their joy, to feel their love, when it would only remind her of Robin? She wanted to call Maggie back, but she was long gone, and Lisa was alone.

  "What are we going to do now?" Dylan asked.

  Three pairs of eyes turned to her.

  "I was going to ask you the same question." She tried to sound cheerful and confident. "I'm sure we can have a great time together."

  "Maybe we should call Uncle Nick," Roxy said.

  Lisa put a hand on her arm. "Don't be silly. We'll be fine. There's no need to call your uncle -- Nick."

  Mary Bea looked at Lisa and began to sob, her cries growing louder with each passing second. Her little face turned red as she screamed. "I want my mommy."

  Lisa put her arms around the little girl, trying to draw her close, but Mary Bea would have none of that. "I want Uncle Nick," she said this time.

  "It will be okay. I'll play a game with you. We'll tell stories. We'll watch television."

  "Uncle Nick, Uncle Nick," Mary Bea yelled.

  "Honey, calm down," Lisa tried again.

  Mary Bea screamed louder.

  "You better call Uncle Nick," Dylan said. "She might never stop screaming."

  Lisa's anxiety level rose with each cry. Mary Bea's face turned blotchy, and she began to cough in between her cries as if she couldn't catch her breath. Lisa felt suddenly terrified. What if something happened to Mary Bea? What if she couldn't get Mary Bea to stop crying? What if she fainted? What if she stopped breathing?

  Lisa drew in a long breath of air, as memories of the past hit her in the face. Robin in her crib, screaming, her tiny face turning a blotchy red as she pounded her little fists against the sheets. Then hours later, Robin, so still, so lifeless, her skin so cold. Oh, God! How could she do this?

  "Aunt Lisa," Roxanne said.

  Her voice sounded far away. Lisa could barely focus on Roxy's face. She kept thinking of Robin. The baby had cried so much at first. In the middle of the night, after two and sometimes three trips to the nursery, Lisa had begged and prayed and pleaded for one long night of sleep. Finally, the silence had come, the horrible, deafening silence.

  Roxanne ran to the phone and dialed a number. Lisa couldn't raise a voice to stop her.

  "Uncle Nick," Roxanne said. "Mom went away and Mary Bea won't stop crying, and I think..." She paused, staring at Lisa in uncertainty. "I think Aunt Lisa needs you."

  No, don't say that, Lisa begged silently. The last thing she wanted was for Nick to think she needed him, but it was too late. Roxanne hung up the phone.

  "He wasn't there," Roxy said. "I'm sure he'll come over when he gets the message." She turned to Mary Bea. "It's okay. Uncle Nick will be here soon. Everything will be all right. You'll see."

  Lisa turned away, feeling as panicked as Maggie. She couldn't handle the memories or the kids, and she certainly couldn't handle Nick. She wanted to run away, but this time there was nowhere to go.

  * * *

  Aunt Lisa needs you. The words ran around in his head as Nick played the message one more time. He couldn't believe his ears. Why would Lisa need him? Why would she even be in San Diego? He rewound the tape to the messages left earlier that day. Maggie's voice came first.

  "I'm burning out, Nick," she said in a rush. "The kids are driving me crazy. They fight all the time." She paused to tell one of the kids in the background to be quiet. "I can't even talk on the phone without being interrupted. Some days, I feel like I can't go on--"

  The desperation in her voice touched a deep, resonant chord within Nick. He remembered that feeling of not being able to get up, to get dressed, to go on. He also remembered Maggie standing behind him, supporting him.

  Guilt swept through him. He should have been there for Maggie this past year, but he'd been so busy launching his business that he'd let it consume his life. When he'd asked Maggie if she was all right, if she needed anything, she'd always said no. Why hadn't he seen she was just covering up, pretending?

  Because he hadn't wanted to see. No one had. After the funeral, after those first few weeks of grief, they'd all gone on with their lives, believing that Maggie had cried all her tears. He should have known better. It wasn't until later that the real grief came, that the inescapable truth of being alone hit home.

  Maggie's voice came back as the machine played the next message. "I need to get away, Nick, at least for the day. Could you watch the kids? I hate to ask, but Mom and Dad are gone. I won't even think of calling them and ruining their trip. I'm not that bad." She tried to laugh, but it sounded forced. "I just need a good night's sleep. Anyway, call me when you get in."

  The next message was from Roxanne. Apparently unable to reach him, Maggie had called Lisa. That didn't surprise him. What shocked the hell out of him was that Lisa had actually come.

  He couldn't stop the sudden surge of energy that ran through his veins, the anticipation, the fear. For a long lime he'd wanted Lisa to come back. But as the weeks turned into months, then years, he'd let anger and disillusionment build a huge, impenetrable wall around his heart. Now that it was complete, the last thing he wanted was to tear it down.

  Aunt Lisa needs you. Roxy's words rang through his head. He tried to drum up the anger. So what if Lisa needed him?

  Hadn't he needed her? Hadn't she turned her back on him? Why the hell should he help her?

  The phone rang. He started, giving it a wary glance. What if it was Lisa? What would he say? The phone rang again and again. The machine picked up and after a moment, he heard a woman's voice. It wasn't Lisa; it was Suzanne.

  "Nick? Are you there? I made reservations for eight o'clock at the Bella Vista in La Jolla. I hope that's okay."

  Nick reached for the phone. "Suzanne. I'm here."

  "Oh, I made--"

  "I can't go," he said abruptly.

  "You can't go? Why not?"

  Nick took a deep breath. "My sister isn't feeling well. When I got home there was a bunch of messages from her. I need to go over there."

  There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. "I didn't even know you had a sister."

  "Maggie is three years younger."

  "Do you have brothers, too?"

  "One older brother. I'm in the middle."

  "You never mentioned them to me. I thought you were all alone here in San Diego."

  Nick sighed at the unhappiness in her voice, feeling both defensive and angry at the same time. He'd deliberately kept Suzanne away from the family for reasons he couldn't even bring himself to define. "My brother doesn't live here, just Maggie and my parents. If you want to meet them, you can meet them."

  "Really? Why don't I go with you, then?"

  "No," he said flatly. "Maggie's upset. Look, I'm sorry, but I have to go. I'll call you, okay?"

  "All right. Good night."

  Nick hung up the phone, debating whether or not he should call Maggie or just go over to her house. He reached for his keys on the side table, catching his reflection in the mirror. He couldn't help adjusting the collar of his white chambray shirt, running a hand through his curly brown hair.

  He hadn't seen Lisa in five years, not since Mary Bea's birth. He'd accidentally run into her in the hospital corridor outside of the nursery. It had been the worst possible place for them to meet, the memories of their love and their pain coming together in a rush of emotion. He'd seen the tears in her eyes as she'd turned away.

  He'd called after her, but she'd kept going. Lisa always kept going. Leaving was her specialty. Every time she left, she took another piece of his heart.

  Not this time. This time, he would make sure he left first.

  Chap
ter Four

  Would you like assistance with your luggage, Mrs. Scott?" the reservations clerk asked with a cheerful smile.

  Maggie glanced down at her one worn overnight bag and didn't think it merited a bellboy's tip. "No thanks, I can manage."

  The clerk handed her an envelope with her key enclosed. "Have a nice evening."

  Maggie glanced around the lobby of the San Diego Court Hotel and smiled. Marble floors, gleaming chandeliers, lush green ferns, cozy table lamps and comfortable armchairs for reading or conversing decorated the lobby. It was a grown-up room for grown-ups, not a child in sight. Thank goodness!

  Maggie walked toward the elevators, feeling like a stranger in a strange land. Most of the people in the lobby were dressed for business. Some people had nametags on, boasting the name of their convention group. The hotel obviously catered more to business than to tourism, or else the noisy children and their tired parents were tucked away in some distant wing.

  Maggie hadn't stayed in a hotel since Keith had surprised her on their wedding anniversary three years earlier. He'd taken her to the Biltmore in Los Angeles so they could have some time alone together, the first night they'd spent away from the kids since Mary Bea's birth. It had been incredible. Keith had ordered champagne and chocolates, surprising her with the unexpectedly romantic gesture, which had been completely out of character but very welcome. They'd planned on dining in the restaurant but never made it past the king-size bed in the bedroom. Instead they'd ordered room service at midnight and fed each other like young lovers instead of two people who'd been married for ten years.

  Maggie's smile faded as she blinked back a sudden tear. She was not going to cry. She was not going to waste the evening in a deluge of tears. Thrusting her chin in the air, she walked over to the bank of elevators and pushed the up button.

  A man in a navy blue business suit stood off to one side, impatiently tapping his foot against the marble floor. He was a handsome man, and Maggie breathed in his musky male scent with a sense of hunger, a wash of longing for what she no longer had.