by Susan Sands
“Whoa!” He dropped the items in his hands and grabbed her into his arms while she sobbed. “That’s quite a lot to deal with all at once. Let’s sit down a minute and you can give me the blow-by-blow.”
He kept his arm firmly around her shoulders as led her to the sofa in the main sitting area.
“I didn’t realize how much this whole thing has upset me. I’ve been worried more about Maeve and Emma. They’ve taken it so hard.”
“Sounds like they’ve taken it hard out loud. You’ve just been quiet about it as usual and supported them without dealing with your own feelings.” He felt he knew her better than she did at times.
Cammie filled him in on as many details as she knew about the situation regarding Maureen and Howard’s past. What a doozy. No wonder she was reeling with emotions.
“Mom’s explanation about how it all happened makes perfect sense, and I really do understand hers and Howard’s sort of tragic star-crossed lovers thing. It’s actually very romantic. But it really screws around with our whole family foundation, you know?”
“It might take more time for Maeve, especially, to get used to. Does Howard seem like a good man?”
“My gut instinct is that he is a very good man and is thrilled to finally reconnect with mom, and he’s beside himself to discover that he has both a daughter and a granddaughter.”
“Having a child fills a man with a whole new perspective.” He understood how overwhelmed Howard must be right now.
“I want to understand that kind of fulfillment someday.” Cammie said in a wistful tone.
“You will,” he said comforting her. “You’re going to be a terrific mother.”
Cammie stood suddenly, as if she’d snapped out of a trance. She looked nervous, and Grey found himself confused again.
“I hope the evening with Trudy wasn’t too painful for Samantha.”
“Not too bad. Thanks for asking.” He searched her face. Something was missing between the two of them that he’d believed they were starting to get back, and it hurt, like a hole in his heart, a hole that had begun to fill each moment he could spend with her.
“Are you sure there’s nothing else bothering you?” He asked again, softly.
“Grey.” Her eyes were drenched with unshed tears, but she held up her hand when he stepped forward to hold her. “I’ve got some things to work out,” she said quickly. “I’m heading up to New York for a couple days.”
“New York?” He echoed.
“I really need to reevaluate my goals—where my life is headed.”
He could barely breathe, but he had to ask the question. No more silences between them.
“After what’s happened between us, how can you doubt where you belong?”
“Where I belong? Seriously?” She dashed the few tears that fell away with the back of her hand in a jerky motion. “It took almost five years after you married Deb before I would go on a second date with a guy. I didn’t trust anyone not to annihilate my heart before I met Jason. He was so patient and kind.”
She was crying again. And it was his fault. He’d had no idea how deeply he’d damaged her. He’d believed she’d simply moved on after a while. It was easier to think like that, especially when he’d been so irrevocably trapped in his marriage, missing her every day, even though he tried not to think about her.
“You know I never meant to hurt you like that. I wanted to spend my life with you, not Deb.” He paused a moment, knowing his words meant everything—or nothing at this point. “I can’t change the past or get back what either of us has lost, but I can spend the rest of my life making it up to you, Cammie.”
He got down on one knee in front of her. “Cammie Laroux, you are the love of my life, and I don’t know how or when, but I want to marry you. Please give me a chance to prove how much I love you.”
He’d never seen her look quite so sad as she did at this moment, shaking her head as if there was no hope, and he felt as if all the light and warmth got sucked out of the room. “Grey, I wish it was that simple. For years, I didn’t let myself think about you because it hurt so much. I forgive you for what happened. I think I really do now, but the consequences were so disastrous that I don’t know if I can change the course of my life for you again. I’m a chef. I have career dreams of a restaurant. I have a house,” she broke off.
“What do you want to do?” He hated to ask. “Why are you going to New York? You’re not a big city girl, Cammie. You aren’t.”
“I have a job offer in New York City—my own show.” She said.
It was strange how he could be so proud and happy for her, yet feel destroyed at the same time. New York. It was far away. Alien. And he couldn’t relocate Samantha again, especially there.
“That’s great!” he said slowly, meaning it. “I’d never want to hold you back; you know that. New York City.” The words were like a drum beat of doom in his skull.
“Exactly,” Cammie said, sounding quick and angry and defensive. “We can’t do this between New York and Alabama. It would never work.”
“Please don’t say never.” He couldn’t bear it.
“I have to cook now. I’m leaving tomorrow.”
No, don’t go. He wanted to beg her to stay, to turn down the job offer, to want nothing more than to stay with him here in Ministry. To start over. But her jaw was set, and she could hardly meet his gaze that was probably filled with desperate longing. She was going. And he couldn’t stop her. What else could he do? He’d cut his heart open and poured out his emotions.
“You know how I feel and what I want,” he said, wanting nothing ever again left ambiguous between them. “The offer to be with me, to marry me stands—no matter what.” He kissed her cheek and wiped away a tear that had rolled down to the corner of her mouth.
She stood, shoulders hunched and walked slowly toward the kitchen.
*
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not hungry.” Grey slammed the cabinet harder than he’d intended.
“So what’s gotten you all worked up, son?” His father asked, brow raised in concern.
“Sorry, dad. It’s not your fault. I’m just frustrated and not sure what to think about things right now.”
“About what? Or should I ask, whom?” His father wasn’t an idiot.
“I thought that Cammie and I had come to an understanding of sorts.”
“What kind of, ah, understanding?” He asked.
“Yes, that kind, too. But it was way more than that. I told her I loved her and wanted to marry her.”
His father let out a low whistle. “Son, I knew you still cared, but that’s a pretty huge step, don’t you think? I mean, considering you have a daughter, and this affects her life, too?”
Grey tried to control his patience. “Everything I do is with Samantha in mind. I told Cammie that maybe things wouldn’t happen right away, but that I wanted to spend my life with her when the time was right.”
“I know you’ve dedicated your life to Samantha, but it’s been a touchy thing with her and Cammie so far. I’m not saying it wouldn’t ever work its way out, but are you willing to wait; or is she?
His dad sat down at one of the barstools. Grey stood facing him across the bar. He felt sixteen again, defending his love for Cammie. “Dad, I can’t lose her again.”
Grey heard a small scraping sound and turned, instantly alert, in case Samantha had overheard his declaration of love for Cammie. But as he moved toward the pantry and peeked around the corner, Dane, his boxer came padding from the other room. Grey’s relief was physical.
He returned to find his dad still sitting at the bar where he’d left him, wearing a contemplative expression. His father wasted no time. “Grey, you know I want you to be happy; it’s all I’ve ever wanted. But you and Cammie haven’t really spent time together in years. Hard to believe you’d even be the same people after all this time and water under the bridge.”
Grey had already heard this today. “That’s kind of what’s she’s saying ri
ght now, too. I know how I feel about her. I know becoming a father has made me a stronger and more complex person, and her challenges have shaped her, but deep down, we are the same personalities with the same souls.”
“Maybe you should bring this up with Sabine at your next appointment.”
“Yeah, I plan to. She’s been discussing Cammie with Samantha, trying to diffuse some of her resentment from the gossip.”
“Sounds like you’ve got your work cut out for you trying to convince both Cammie and Samantha that this is a good idea.”
“Sounds like I do.”
Chapter Seventeen
‡
Cammie was on a plane bound for La Guardia. Bruce’s assistant had finalized the flight details not two hours after she’d sent her availability. Cammie was amazed at the near-magical ease with which her wishes had been granted.
There would be a car waiting at the airport when she arrived to whisk her directly to the studio for the meeting with the executive producers and other movers and shakers. Cammie hadn’t asked too many questions regarding this incredible offer, but Bruce had assured her that she would be blown away at their proposal.
Anything was better than the proverbial doghouse she’d been living under the past several months as the bungling doofus of cooking show land. The television world and media could spin any situation and transform it into something fresh and exciting. From doofus to darling in a day. Wonders never ceased.
The network had requested Cammie keep this meeting under wraps until they came to an agreement. Of course she’d not told anyone besides Grey about the offer. Funny how she knew intrinsically to trust him, though she claimed otherwise out loud.
The flight took only two hours, with Cammie on edge the entire time. The elderly woman in the next seat had recognized Cammie immediately and tried to engage her in conversation about Jessica Green. “I’m sorry. I really can’t speak about Ms. Green. My contract prevents me from discussing our relationship.” But one day it wouldn’t.
“Honey, that woman is a phony-baloney, if you ask me. I’d much rather see you up there cooking on my TV screen than her stupid self.” The woman sat back in her seat then, seemingly satisfied she’d said her piece.
“I appreciate your support,” Cammie said, not knowing how else to reply. The woman made a satisfied sniffing sound.
But when Cammie turned away, she caught the woman snapping her picture with a cell camera out of the corner of her eye. Maybe this kind of popularity wasn’t so great. She’d been removed from the public in Alabama, though everyone there knew her story. At least they’d become used to her daily presence and pretty much left her alone day-to-day.
Not that Cammie was a huge star, but it was surprising how many people tuned in to the daily cooking shows. And Jessica had been so commercialized with Cammie at her elbow for several years; she was well-recognized wherever she went. Maybe not instantly, but rarely did she get through her day without signing a few autographs and taking a photo or two with fans.
As she made her way to the transportation area outside baggage claim, Cammie ducked her head, hoping for anonymity. Fortunately, this was to be a quick trip and she’d not checked a bag.
Her driver held up a sign with only the name, Laroux, which was helpful, until someone standing nearby saw her connect with the driver and his sign.
She dealt graciously with the flurry of smiling photos, comments, and questions, to which she gave her requisite answer of “can’t comment.” Her driver was obviously a seasoned professional, and aided in taking her bag and keeping her moving toward the car all the while.
“Sorry about that, ma’am.” He had a Brooklyn accent.
“No problem. I didn’t want to be rude and cause a scene.”
“There are some bottles of water and diet drinks in the cooler if you’re thirsty. Relax, and we’ll be at the studio soon.” In other words, close your eyes and hang on tight. Cammie had ridden with enough New York cabbies and drivers to know that no matter the size or color of the car, New York drivers were all of the same horn-honking, impatient breed. She wasn’t in Alabama anymore. Somehow, that was less than satisfying.
*
Grey sat in Sabine’s outer office. She’d made blueberry muffins again, as was her custom. He supposed it was comforting and homey to the patients who came here feeling anxious about their various situations.
It made him think about Cammie and her constant cooking and baking. She’d left on a plane first thing this morning. He stood and paced the small sitting area. Her flying off to New York made his stomach hurt.
Samantha hadn’t been herself the past day or so either. She’d been quiet and withdrawn, like she knew something was up. He’d tried to speak with her about it, but she’d shut him down and been completely uncommunicative.
Forcing himself back down on the flowery sofa, Grey thought he heard crying coming from Sabine’s office. He stilled. It was Samantha, and she was sobbing and getting louder. From the beginning of their sessions, Sabine had warned him, “Don’t come charging in if you hear Samantha expressing emotion. I will come find you if I think it’s necessary.”
So he sat outside, listening to his daughter cry her eyes out, catching a fragments here and there, “He said he loves her…I’m afraid if he gets married he won’t be happy like when he was married to my mom…I want him to be happy.”
Had he heard that correctly? She wanted him to not marry Cammie so he wouldn’t be miserable like he’d been with Deb? That was a real kicker.
Samantha had overheard his conversation with his dad while they’d believed she was doing her homework, headphones on, in her bedroom. The scraping noise hadn’t only been his dog. She’d listened. But she hadn’t shared her feelings about what she’d heard. Maybe it was better this way. Sabine had such an effective approach to addressing sensitive issues with Samantha.
It was as if Sabine could say the things that would never fly coming from him. Things that made sense to a nine-year-old girl, but coming from her dad sounded lecturing and judgmental. From Sabine, it was respectful straight-talk that helped Samantha put the events of her confusing life into perspective. She had a strong sense of fair play. Grey relied heavily on that to help pull her through some of the mucky and confusing emotional stuff.
The door finally opened and Samantha came out. Her eyes were puffy, but she was no longer crying. Sabine maintained her usual serene half-smile and said, “Grey, could you come in?”
He placed a hand on Samantha’s shoulder and searched his daughter’s bloodshot eyes. “You okay?”
“I’m okay, Daddy.” She did seem more relaxed now and less on edge than before she’d gone inside, which surprised him a little. Her body language even appeared somewhat resigned.
“Samantha, you can hang for a bit while your dad and I talk, okay?” Sabine suggested.
“Okay.”
Grey followed Sabine into her office and pulled the door shut behind him. “I heard her crying and some of what she said to you.”
Sabine sighed, then said, “She’s decided to give Cammie a chance.”
“What kind of chance?” Grey could hardly believe it.
“Obviously it came as a huge shock to her that you’d told Cammie you wanted to marry her. She’s dealing with conflicting emotions right now, but the bottom line is that she’s ready for you to stop being sad and worried all the time.”
“She said that?”
“Among other things. She’s come a long way in realizing that Cammie isn’t her enemy and wasn’t the true cause of her mother’s unhappiness, but this is something that will take some time.”
“I’m surprised she’s even open to the idea at all.”
“After she had a good cry that you hadn’t told her how you felt about Cammie—which was the main problem—she opened up that she hated watching you mope around and worry all the time.”
“I don’t mope around. Well, I do worry, but I try to talk to her about things. I didn’t say how I felt abo
ut Cammie because I didn’t want to upset her.”
“She’s growing up and wants your honesty, even if she doesn’t always like what you have to say. The gossip around town is the worst way for her to get her information. It really should come from you first. And overhearing how you felt about Cammie in her own home felt like you’d been keeping a secret from her.”
Grey could understand that.
“How should I approach this with her? I mean, Cammie and I haven’t come to a real meeting of minds about where we stand with one another yet.”
“Tell Samantha that. Let her know you are uncertain of how things will play out with Cammie, but that you’d like to have the opportunity to give your relationship another chance.”
“I guess if she can open up to the possibility of having Cammie in our lives, she’ll just know we’re all taking things a step at a time together. Maybe she won’t worry that I’ll spring something on her that she’s not ready for.”
“Exactly. Right now, Samantha needs to feel like she’s in the know and part of what’s going on. No sneaking around so that she finds out about it from a kid at school.”
“Got it.” Grey shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
“She finally asked why you married her mother if you’d planned to marry Cammie all along. I said her mother loved you so much that she made some poor decisions, giving you very little choice but to marry her.” Sabine had stayed within the guidelines they’d set up early-on with regards to how much information to supply Samantha when questions arose and explanations were required.
“That was a well-worded understatement. But I don’t want her to think her mother was a bad person.” Though he believed she’d walked a fine line.
“No, she doesn’t. Only misguided to use her own emotions to trap another person into doing what she wanted instead of allowing them to choose. But I made certain she understood that Deb had some serious emotional issues that contributed to her poor decision-making.”
“How did she end up viewing Cammie’s role in all this?” He couldn’t believe they’d discussed it all such length without his knowing.