One True Love

by Barbara Freethy

  He nodded. "I am, too."

  "I wasn't being honest with you, Raymond. And I'm not just talking about my secretive past. I wasn't being the real me. When my daughter died, I lost myself. I put a suit of armor on and went from Lisa to Elisabeth and I thought I could be happy living a completely different life, and for a long time I was."

  "But going home changed that."

  "It did," she admitted.

  "Why did you come back?"

  His question took her by surprise. "I -- I came back to work. We can still work together, can't we?"

  "Can we?" he challenged.

  "Well, I guess if it's too uncomfortable to have your ex-fiancé--"

  "It's not about that," he said, cutting her off. "I've had a few epiphanies myself in the last few days, and I don't think we're right for each other. I also don't think you're right for this company."

  "That sounds like sour grapes," she said, feeling a rush of anger. "I've devoted myself to this company. I've worked hard for you, and I'm good, dammit."

  "You are good, very creative, but you don't take risks. You play it safe, and we've gotten a lot of accounts that way. But I want to go big, Elisabeth. And I don't think you have the fight in you. I think too many times you take the easy way out."

  His words shocked her, because he'd never spoken to her so frankly, so critically, and because his words had a ring of truth to them.

  "Even now," he continued. "Why did you really come back here? You've already admitted you don't love me. Although, I should have figured that out when you couldn't get the invitations in the mail, but like you, I wanted to pretend it was going to happen. Because you seemed right. You seemed like the woman I was looking for. But we were both pretending. I thought you'd make me feel young, but in truth, you just made me feel old."

  "I didn't realize..."

  "It wasn't your fault. It was mine," he said with a small smile. "But I've stopped lying to myself, and you should do the same. I want employees who are willing to put their whole heart into this company. And I think your heart is in San Diego -- maybe with your ex-husband. Take a few days, Elisabeth. Think about what you really want, and if it's this job, it's yours." He walked to the door, pausing. "If it's not, I wish you the best. You deserve to be happy. You also deserve to be you -- maybe that's Lisa and not Elisabeth."

  * * *

  Sunday morning Maggie carried a load of laundry out of the laundry room and headed toward the stairs. It was her second load that morning, and she was tired. Since returning from Santa Barbara, she'd fallen back into motherhood with a vengeance. Her adventure already seemed like a memory, a distant but beautiful memory.

  She still couldn't believe Mary Bea had gone through surgery while she'd been away. That guilt would stay with her for a very long time, although Mary Bea didn't seem to hold it against her. In fact, the children had thrived with Lisa and Nick. They'd talked endlessly about their aunt and uncle, as well as their grandparents and Silvia and Carmela. It seemed everyone had rallied to take care of the children in her absence.

  She was lucky. She might not have a husband, but she did have a lot of people in her life who loved her. And now that she had no more questions about Keith, she'd finally packed away his things. After convincing her parents and Nick that she was not about to go off the deep end again, she'd spent most of Friday going through Keith's clothes and other personal belongings, a task she had never been able to face.

  Now it was done. They still had pictures of him in the family room. The children each had something of his to keep in their rooms, and Maggie had her wedding ring -- tucked away in her jewelry box. She would keep it always, but she wouldn't wear it again.

  She set the laundry basket down on the dining room table and bent over to pick up a trail of socks that had somehow escaped from the basket. She tried to concentrate on the mundane task, but her mind drifted to Jeremy. She wondered what he would think if he could see her now, a mother, a housekeeper, a cook, a gardener and everything else that came with the job titled Mom.

  He'd probably be disappointed, she thought, as she stuffed the socks into the basket. This was the real Maggie, not that woman who'd made love to him with wild abandon in a hotel room. She smiled to herself. She'd surprised herself as much as him, and she would never regret that night of passion. Jeremy had brought out another side of her. He'd made her feel beautiful and sexy and adored. And he'd reminded her that she was a woman who had a lot of life left to live.

  Although part of her felt guilty about being with a man other than Keith, Maggie knew Keith would have wanted her to be happy. He would have wanted her to love again. And she did. She loved Jeremy.

  It was too soon, too fast, too much of a fantasy, but deep down in her heart, she knew that she had fallen in love with Jeremy, and it would be a long, long time before she got over him.

  But she would get over him, she told herself firmly. She had no other choice.

  The doorbell rang. Maggie groaned. Carmela and Silvia were early, and she was late, as usual. She was supposed to go with them to the cemetery to celebrate the anniversary of Robin's death. This year she would take all the children, including Mary Bea, who already felt well enough to walk slowly around the house, so that her daughter could begin to understand that while people die, they are celebrated forever in the heart.

  Maggie opened the door. "Silvia, I'm sorry, we're not quite ready--" She stopped as she realized the person on the porch was not Silvia. "Jeremy."

  "Hello, Maggie."

  Maggie shifted the laundry basket to one hip, painfully conscious of how much she looked like a mom. Her hair was a frazzled mess, and she hadn't changed out of her blue jeans or put on any makeup. And Jeremy -- Jeremy looked great in his beige slacks and white polo shirt. His dark hair was neatly combed, his skin tan, his eyes filled with energy, his lips curved into a warm, sexy smile that made her want to melt. "What are you doing here?" she asked, finally able to get some words out.

  "Seeing you. And boy, have I missed seeing you."

  Her body tingled under his intense gaze. Maggie cleared her throat. "It's only been a few days."

  "It feels like a lifetime. Aren't you going to invite me in?"

  "Uh -- we're leaving soon."

  "You're not gone yet." He took the basket out of her hands. "Let me help you with that."

  Once her hands were free, Maggie had no choice but to step back and invite him in.

  "Where do you want it?" he asked.

  "You can set it down there," she said, pointing to the bottom stair.

  Jeremy looked around her house, nodding approvingly. "Exactly as I pictured it."

  "When did you picture my house?" Maggie asked.

  "The first day I met you."

  "The first day you met me you thought I was Crystal," she reminded him. "A swinging, single friend of Serena's."

  He laughed. "I never thought of you that way. I'll admit the three kids took me by surprise. Where are they? I'd like to meet them,"

  "Jeremy, you have to leave," Maggie said abruptly.

  "Why? Are you ashamed of me?"

  "No, but you and I -- it's over. I'm a single mother."

  "So what? I like kids."

  "You do not. You told me you never wanted kids."

  "I told you I'd never met the right woman. I think I have, now." He looked at her with sexy, loving eyes that brimmed with tenderness and compassion. "In case you haven't figured it out yet, I love you, Maggie."

  "You can't," she whispered. "You're a fantasy."

  He pinched her and laughed when she said, "Ow."

  "Does that feel like a fantasy?''

  She rubbed her arm. "No."

  "Does this?" He covered her mouth with his, persuading her with his lips what he could not do with words.

  "Wow!" she breathed against his mouth.

  "I've still got it?"

  "It's better than I remembered."

  "So you have been thinking about me."

  "How could I not?" M
aggie asked as she pulled away from him. "You were so great, Jeremy. It was the best adventure I ever had."

  "You think you wrote the end of our story, but I'm convinced there should be a sequel," Jeremy said.

  "Really?" she asked, unable to stop the surge of impossible hope from spreading through her body. "What would it be about?"

  "You and me and your kids, learning how to be a family." He touched her face. "I'm not letting you go, Maggie."

  She didn't want him to let her go. She wanted him to hold on to her forever, make love to her, make her laugh, make her be silly, make her feel wanted. But what could she give him but a complicated mess of a life?

  "Mom," Dylan cried, as he and Sally ran down the hall. "Sally found a dead lizard. Look."

  Sally dropped her offering at Maggie's feet and barked excitedly.

  Maggie made a face at the mangled bit of lizard lying on her hall floor. She couldn't stand to look at it. "Dylan, how many times have I told you not to let her in the house with those things. Make her take it out of here."

  "She wanted to give it to you, Mom," Dylan said earnestly. "She missed you."

  "I missed her, too. Make her take the lizard away."

  When Dylan tried to pick up the lizard, Sally grabbed it with her teeth and headed back toward the yard with Dylan following at her heels.

  "That was my son, Dylan. My middle child. Still want to stay?" she asked Jeremy,

  Before he could reply, Roxy skipped down the stairs in a very short skirt and enough makeup to cover half of San Diego. She stopped when she saw Jeremy.

  "Who's he?" she asked suspiciously.

  "He's a friend, and you're not leaving this house with all that makeup."

  "I'm only wearing blush," Roxy protested.

  '"And eyeliner and shadow and lipstick. Go and wash."

  "Aunt Lisa is more cool than you," Roxy said, as she stamped her way up the stairs.

  "Everyone is more cool than me." She looked to see if Jeremy had left yet, but he was still standing in the hall, smiling.

  "Mommy, can I take my dolls to the cemetery?" Mary Bea asked from the upstairs landing, her arms filled with four big dolls.

  "Just one, honey."

  "But they'll be lonely."

  "Why don't you put them down for a nap while we're gone?" Maggie suggested.

  "Okay." Mary Bea toddled off to do as requested.

  "Are you still here?" she asked Jeremy, throwing up her hands with a helpless laugh.

  "I told you I'm not leaving -- not unless you tell me that you don't love me."

  She met his gaze in one long, heart-stopping look. "I do love you, Jeremy, but that's a long way from turning you and me into some sort of family."

  "Let me stay. Let me prove to you I'm real and not a fantasy." He put his hands on her shoulders. "I wrote more on the road with you than I have in months. And since I've been home, I haven't written a thing. You're my inspiration, Maggie."

  "I've never been anyone's inspiration."

  "I've never been anyone's fantasy. I'll try it if you will."

  "Jeremy, you have no idea what my life is really like."

  "Show me. Don't shut me out. Give me a chance."

  How could she say no when her heart was screaming yes? "Are you sure? I'm just an average, run-of-the-mill mom with stretch marks and a real weakness for chocolate."

  Jeremy laughed. "As long as you're willing to share that chocolate, I have no problem with it. But you're not just anything, Maggie. I've seen you in action. I know you have a wild imagination, but you're also a fighter, and you're loyal. You don't quit, Maggie. I like that about you -- among other things."

  "Really?" She smiled at him for a long moment, just enjoying the connection that had begun that first day. "I guess I should tell you then that I am totally in love with you."

  "Thank God," he breathed.

  She suddenly realized that Jeremy had not been sure of her answer. "Are you that surprised?"

  "I know you loved Keith very much. I saw how much it hurt you to know that he was really gone."

  "It did hurt, and I will miss him, Jeremy. But this isn't about Keith anymore. It's about me and my life and whether or not it could ever mesh with yours. You once said you weren't sure if you wanted children," she reminded him. "I have children."

  "I know what I said, Maggie, and you're right, I'd never really thought much about kids. But that's because those kids didn't have names or faces, and they didn't belong to a woman I love." He paused. "I don't know if I'd be a good father. I'm sure I'd make a lot of mistakes, but I'd like to try to make you happy. I'd like to try to make all of us happy, if you'll let me. I don't want to lose you. Give me a chance?"

  "Yes. Oh, yes, I'll give you a chance." She kissed him on the mouth with a renewed sense of joy and hope and love. "You might as well come with us, then. We have to go to the cemetery."

  Jeremy looked a bit disturbed at that comment. "To visit your husband's grave? Maggie, I don't want to intrude."

  "No, not Keith. My brother lost a child, years ago. His mother-in-law believes in a special celebration for the dead. It's a long story. I'll tell you on the way. Just be prepared for anything."

  "Who else is going to he there?" he asked.

  "Everyone." Her smile faded. "Except Lisa."

  * * *

  From the cemetery Nick could see the blue of the ocean in the distance, glistening in the sunshine. The blue reminded him of Lisa's eyes. A heavy, familiar weight settled around his heart. He tried to shake off the feeling of loneliness, but it covered him like a heavy winter coat. The last few days since she'd returned to L.A. had been agony. He shouldn't have made love to her again. Now his memories were vivid, sharp and painful, not old and faded the way they'd been before.

  A soft chirping drew his gaze to the nearby tree. He smiled at his old friend, the robin. "She's gone, buddy. Flown away. No big surprise."

  The bird chirped in response and hopped up to another branch, flapping his wings, sending his mating call out over the hillside, but there was no reply.

  "Maybe you should get used to being alone," he said. "If I can do it, you can."

  He sat down on the grass and pulled out his guitar. The others would be arriving shortly, but he always came early to spend his own time with Robin. He played a few notes, strumming the guitar softly with his fingers. He remembered when he'd first played the melody for Lisa. It had been her song then. Later it had become Robin's song.

  He played it now for both of them, for the two girls he had loved more than anyone else in his life. Flashes of memory passed through his mind, small tender moments of laughter, joy, love. There was pain in there, too, but he didn't concentrate on that. Today was a day for remembering only the good. And there had been a lot of good. He wished Lisa could remember the past that way. He'd thought for a short time that maybe she could.

  Then she'd told him she was leaving. And while he'd wanted to yell at her, to shake her, to fight for her -- he couldn't. Nor could he let her walk out on him again. So he'd done it. He'd been the one to leave first, at least in literal terms. A small satisfaction, at best.

  It would be harder this time. Hell, it might be impossible.

  Finishing the song, he set the guitar down and looked for the robin. It had flown away, but he wasn't alone. Lisa was standing a few feet from him. She'd come back! His heart leapt into his chest. He set the guitar down and stumbled to his feet, telling himself not to be a fool. If she'd come back for anyone; it was for their daughter, and not for him.

  * * *

  "Lisa."

  He said her name with surprise and wariness. He'd put up his own guard walls, she realized. And who could blame him?

  Taking a few steps closer, she said, "Hello, Nick."

  "What are you doing here?"

  A dozen answers came to mind, some of them more self-protective than others. But it was time to speak the truth. "I heard your song." His sharp intake of breath nearly undid her. "So I came."

&n
bsp; "I'd almost given up."

  "It took me a while to really hear you. I guess I didn't want to."

  "And now you do?"

  She didn't answer, turning her head toward the small headstone where her daughter's name was written -- Robin Nicole Maddux, child of our love. Her eyes filled with tears. She hadn't been to the cemetery in a long time, because this vivid reminder of Robin's death was almost too painful to bear. But she was here now, because she could no longer run away from her heart -- or from Nick.

  "Why did you come back, Lisa?"

  Facing him, she took a deep breath, knowing she was about to open herself up for the biggest rejection of her life. But she had to do it. "I love you, Nick. And I want to come back. I want us to be together again."

  He didn't say anything for a moment, and her heart almost stopped. What if he'd changed his mind? What if she'd waited too long?

  "Say something," she begged.

  "I..." He shook his head, his eyes still guarded. "What about Raymond?"

  "I broke up with him, or maybe he broke up with me, but we both knew it wasn't going to work. I also quit my job." She stared him uncertainly. "I thought you'd be happy."

  "I feel like I'm dreaming. I'm not even sure you're real."

  She stepped forward, until they were inches away from each other. "I'm real, Nick. And I'm back."

  "For how long?"

  "Forever. So tell me you love me, dammit."

  "I love you -- dammit."

  She smiled as a tear slid out the corner of her eye. "It took you long enough."

  "But I want it all, Lisa."

  "What does that mean?"

  "Everything. I want you to marry me again." He paused, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I want us to have children. I can't settle for anything less."

  "You're asking for the sun and the moon and the stars," she said, not sure she could commit to everything.

  "And you," he said softly.

  "I would be terrified, Nick."

  "So would I. I can't promise that nothing bad will ever happen to us again, but I can promise that I'll never let you down the way I did before. And I'll never let you go. No more leaving me behind, Lisa. If you've come back to stay, then you're staying forever. If you try to leave me, I'll follow you to the ends of the earth."