“If he’s your friend, Mom, isn’t he staying for dinner?”
“I have no plans…” he shrugged, looking expectantly at Kit.
“I guess he can stay. Why don’t we postpone the upstairs tour then,” she said.
The three filed into the kitchen.
With Zoe’s help, Tunney set the table and made the salad. Kit kept her ear attuned to their conversation, waiting for a slip-up that would expose her charade, but so far they talked about everything else except her ex-husband.
“Are you a professional landlord?” The girl asked when they had all filled their plates.
“I run a construction company.”
“Oh. So you know a lot about fixing things?”
“I’m primarily a builder, but I fix things and paint walls. Your mother is helping me. It’s too big a job for one person.”
“My mother? She can’t fix stuff…can’t do much of anything…useful.”
“She’s doing okay so far. I think we should give her a chance.”
“I wouldn’t. She ruins everything,” Zoe said, staring pointedly at her mom.
Kit’s cheeks burned, she blinked rapidly then turned away.
“That’s not a nice thing to say about your mother.”
“What do you know about her? You’re just her landlord.”
“I’m her friend, too,” he said, flashing a warm smile at Kit.
“Mom, you said he wasn’t your boyfriend,” the girl said.
“He isn’t!” she insisted.
“How could she have a boyfriend when she’s…”
“How about dessert? I made your favorite, apple pie, Zoe.” Kit interrupted, changing the subject.
“I love your mom’s apple pie, too,” he said.
“Oh, so you’re here eating apple pie with her?” The girl narrowed her eyes.
“A snack after I’m through working,” he said, a note of guilt creeping into his voice.
Kit served the apple pie. The only sound was the clinking of forks against plates.
“When do you think you’ll be coming back, Zoe?” Her mother asked.
“I don’t know. I’m on the basketball team. We have practice. Maybe you could come to a game?”
“I’d love to.” She took the last bite of pie on her plate.
“You can bring your boyfriend, too, if you want,” Her daughter said, looking at Tunney.
“I told you, he’s not my boyfriend,” Kit said, putting down her fork.
“Whatever.” Zoe finished her pie and deposited her dish in the sink.
Kit finally got Tunney on his way, drove her daughter back to school then returned home. After the tension of keeping her daughter away from the husband clothes, plus worrying about the young girl revealing the divorce, Kit took a bottle of wine and a glass to the third floor. A dose of Mary’s strength would be welcome indeed.
Letter number twenty
Dear Dan,
It’s Thanksgiving Day. I’m trying like heck to find something to be thankful for. If I knew you were still alive it would be so much easier. I’m going to Alice and Jack’s this year because your folks are driving to Virginia to be with your brother. They can’t take it here. I don’t blame them.
I’ll be glad when the day is over. I have to remember to bring home some turkey for Lucky and Samson. I guess I am thankful for them this year. Sometimes I think postponing having a child was a mistake. If I can’t have you now or maybe ever again, then at least I could have had your child. Unfortunately, I can’t change the past.
I think of you every morning when I get up. Sometimes early in the morning, fresh from sleep, I don’t remember you are missing. I think you’re in the bathroom or putting coffee on.
I guess if I really try hard I could be thankful for having had you in my life for as much time as I have already and for the love we’ve shared.
I’m praying you are warm, have enough food and are coming back to me soon, Dan. I miss you so much.
All my love,
Mary
* * * *
In the morning, Kit took her coffee to the parlor. She stood at the window watching the leaves blow in a strong gust of fall wind. As she sipped, a story idea entered her head and began to form the shape of a book. Kit sat down at her computer for the first time since her arrival in Willow Falls and began to write. Tunney called.
“I’ve got to go out of town this week. I’ll be back on Friday. We can continue our renovation then.”
“Okay. I’m writing, see you next weekend.”
By one o’clock, Kit needed a break. She called Sarah.
“So glad you’re writing. Awesome!”
“This idea has taken over my life.” She sat back on the loveseat in the parlor and propped her feet up on the small coffee table.
“What about Tunney?”
“He’s away for a week.”
“But when he comes back…front and center, right?”
“I’m still stuck...” Kit chewed a fingernail.
“But you want…to be with him, don’t you?”
“Doesn’t matter what I want…” She hugged her knees to her chest.
“You’ve got to come clean.”
“I can’t. Not yet. I’ll lose him if he knows I lied. I’d rather have him as a friend than not at all. How’s Jim?”
“He’s here every night now. Laura sets the table for four without me reminding her.”
“So when are you moving in together?”
“I don’t know. I’m still…cautious. Ya know?”
“Yeah. I know. Go for it.” After she hung up the phone the idea of being with Tunney stuck in her mind. No time now. Write first. She sighed, refilled her mug then returned to her computer. Instead of being afraid of filling empty days until his return, Kit found herself immersed in work and spending time reading Mary’s letters, then writing her book. She took the idea of the letters, turning it into a love story about a man, Nick, an undercover agent in the CIA, secretly engaged to a teacher, Katherine. Nick went abroad on a dangerous hush-hush assignment for a year with no contact with anyone allowed. His sweetheart wouldn’t know if he was dead or alive. Her heroine wrote him letters to keep their love alive. In between the letters, Kit wrote about Nick’s dangerous work. She called the book, Dangerous Love Letters.
Even three days of rain didn’t distract her. Preoccupied reading Mary’s letters, writing her own love letters and her new book, she barely remembered to eat. Her agent, Diana, loved the idea, and anxiously awaited the first draft.
Kit broke her routine to watch her daughter play in a school basketball game. Afterward, they returned to the old Victorian for a hot meal.
“This pot roast is great, Mom.” Zoe cut another piece. She scooped up some mashed potatoes with her fork to go with the tempting meat. “Where’s Tunney?”
“He’s out of town. Have you heard from your father?”
“He’s okay. I know you want to get back together with him.”
“Where did you get that idea?”
“Daddy said so.”
“He did? He’s wrong. I have no interest in getting back together with him.”
“Even if he asked you really, really nice?”
“Even if he asked me really, really nice.”
Zoe looked down at her food.
“I enjoyed watching you play basketball. You’re talented.”
“I’m the tallest on the team.”
“You get your height from your father.”
“I miss him. Would it be okay if I spent Christmas vacation with him, alone? He wants to take me skiing in Switzerland!”
“I guess you can’t turn that down.”
Kit coughed to cover the catch in her voice.
“The trip would be for the whole two weeks of vacation.”
“Then you won’t be home at all during the Christmas break…” Suddenly her mouth felt dry.
“But I can see you anytime. I don’t get much time with Dad.”
“Th
anksgiving?”
“Can we have it here?”
“Of course.”
“Are you going to invite your boyfriend?”
“Tunney?”
“Do you have more than one?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Right, Mom…if you say so,” Zoe snickered.
* * * *
The next day, Kit couldn’t write. She had been getting over Johnny being gone but now Zoe would be gone for Christmas. Christmas alone. Kit got nauseous. She retreated to the third floor seeking solace in Mary’s letters.
Letter number twenty-nine
Dear Dan,
I’ve been thinking about cancelling Christmas this year. It’s one week away. I don’t have the strength to even decorate a tree. I can’t bear to look through our box of ornaments. Your parents agree with me. But your brother Tom, Cassie and their kids will be celebrating. Christmas really is for kids.
I’ll be buying presents for them. Of course I’m going to buy you a new flannel shirt, like I do every year. I’ll put it away with your birthday present to give to you when you get back. I don’t think I can do more.
I can’t even watch our favorite holiday movies because I’m so sick of crying. I’m going to find the funniest movie I can. Go see it on Christmas day. I keep telling myself Christmas is only one day, but that’s not true. Christmas is all the things we do every year, the baking, visiting friends, buying funny presents. It’s so painful this year I can hardly stand it.
Then I remember you may not have food or a warm blanket or you might be injured and I get sick to my stomach over my pettiness. I’ll have Christmas when you are back in my arms again, Dan.
Love,
Mary
Kit admitted to herself her daughter was right; her father hadn’t seen her in a long time. If Mary could survive Christmas without Dan, she could survive Christmas without Zoe.
Letter number thirty
Dear Dan,
On Christmas Eve, I went caroling. Some of us shared hot chocolate with some children in need through Kiwanis. The Kiwanis men and their wives also had a Christmas party for the same kids. I helped out there on Christmas Day. Sure made the day go faster. Better than staying home, feeling sorry for myself!
I went to see The Owl and the Pussycat in the evening on Christmas Day. I had the first laughs I’ve had in a long time. All in all, I survived. Maybe did a little good for a few people.
You were in my thoughts constantly over the holiday. I hope you haven’t lost so much weight I don’t recognize you. I liked your body the way it was. I’ve started clipping new recipes I see in the newspaper, saving them to make for you. We’ll put meat back on your bones as soon as you get home.
I keep writing letters to Mr. Nixon to get you home, but no reply as yet. I pray for you. Come home to me, Dan.
Love,
Mary
* * * *
October flew by in a flurry of writing for Kit. Running his construction business took up most of Tunney’s time. Renovation got squeezed into busy schedules on nights and weekends. She called him in to dinner.
“You did a pretty fair job painting today,” he said sitting down at the kitchen table.
“Fair job? Some compliment!”
“You know what I mean. You’re doing okay, better than I thought.” He placed his napkin in his lap.
“Don’t bowl me over with your enthusiasm,” she said, turning off the stove.
“Come on, Kit.” Tunney raised his shoulders.
“I’m glad you think I’m doing okay. Better than Zoe, anyway.” She sat across from him.
“You know I think…I think…you’re very talented.” His gaze dropped from her face to the platter of food she carried.
“Dinner’s ready. Poor man’s beef stroganoff.”
“Smells great. I haven’t had home-cooked meals in a long time.” He sat up straight.
“I like cooking for you. You eat without complaining.”
“You’re a good cook.” Tunney helped himself to a big portion of the tempting mixture of beef, noodles and sauce.
“I’ll bet you say that to all your painters.” she batted her lashes at him.
“If you can give up the computer for a bit tomorrow, I’ll replace the broken pane of glass in the parlor.”
“Done. By the way, Zoe’s coming for Thanksgiving. Will most of the renovation be done by then?”
“The dining room will…if I move it up on the list.”
“Will you?”
“For you, anything.” He kissed her hand. When his gaze met hers, she saw desire flickering in his dark eyes. Her pulse quickened. She wished he’d take her in is arms but he looked away instead.
* * * *
Kit liked being busy, less time to wallow in self-pity or think about how much she wanted Tunney. Immersing herself in Mary’s letters when not writing helped. Some days she’d spend hours on the third floor, reading, then join him on the weekends, renovating.
A week later, she got up four steps on the step ladder to blue tape the molding in the living room, in preparation for painting. She didn’t see one leg of the ladder rested on a small piece of wood lying on the floor. The ladder wobbled before it toppled.
“Tunney!” She screamed as the ladder teetered then fell sideways. He appeared in time to catch her as she fell, landing on him, knocking him backward onto the sofa. His hands stretched out to catch her as she careened face-first into him.
For a moment they lay there, staring into each other’s eyes, Kit on top of him, her chest squished against his hand. He couldn’t help himself, his fingers closed around her breast as if they had a mind of their own. He leaned forward to kiss her while he squeezed gently... His lips were soft against hers, teasing her. His mouth paralyzed her while it seduced her. After a minute to two, she came to her senses and broke from his kiss, pushing herself up and away.
“We shouldn’t be…”
Want glittered in the dark pools of his eyes.
“I’m not sorry,” he said, pushing up before walking away from her.
She put her hand on his arm to stop him.
“What do you mean?”
“Aw, come on, Kit. We’ve both wanted me to do that for a long time now.”
“Who says?”
“It’s true,” he said, looking at her with heat in his eyes.
“You think I want you to…to…touch me like…”
“Don’t tell me you don’t feel it?”
“Feel what?” She pretended not to know what he was talking about.
“Do I have to spell it out for you?”
“I’m afraid you do.”
Chapter Thirteen
“This,” he said, taking her in his arms, kissing her long and deep.
Her hands rested on his biceps but instead of forcing him away, her fingers curled around his hard muscles. He reached something primal, a hunger in Kit, part of her not touched for a long time. The fire he started inside her threatened to take over. Then he let her go.
“I think we’ve done enough for today,” Tunney said, wiping his mouth with his hand before walking out the front door.
Kit didn’t see him for a week. She wanted to call but didn’t know what to say. Of course he was right. They had chemistry. She wanted him as much as he wanted her but couldn’t admit her lie to him. Chemistry will go out the window when he finds out I lied.
Tunney didn’t call her. Every day she hoped he’d show up. When he didn’t, she retreated to writing. Her book progressed quickly, but her heart ached. Zoe won’t be here for Christmas, now I’ve lost Tunney, too.
* * * *
She had been moping around for days, waiting to hear from Tunney but he didn’t call or come by. Every conversation with Zoe was about her trip to Switzerland. She tried to share her daughter’s enthusiasm, but her heart hurt at the thought of her first Christmas without her.
After finishing her first cup of coffee, Kit stood in the parlor and looked out on a gray
Saturday with a strong chill in the air. Knowing she should be writing but not feeling up to the task, She jumped when the bell rang. Tunney waited for her to open the door. She wore a warm smile, happy to see him.
“Cold weather is almost here. I want to check the fireplace chimney in the bedroom…hasn’t been used in a long time. Will you be in there this morning?”
“I’m not writing upstairs today.”
“Writer’s block?”
“No,” she said, trying to hide tears welling up in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
She couldn’t tell him Zoe was spending Christmas with her father.
“Come on. You can tell me,” he said, softly.
She longed to tell him, to fall into his arms and cry. But her lie prevented her from turning to him…what seemed like such a little lie to a total stranger had now grown into a gigantic lie to a man she cared for.
“Zoe and I want to invite you to join us on Thanksgiving.” Kit changed the subject.
“Great…thanks for the invite. I’ll be here.”
She left him to wrestle with the chimney on his own, retreating to the third floor to read more of Mary’s letters; sure she’d get strength from Mary.
Letter number thirty-four
Dear Dan,
I did something bad today. I got so mad at you for getting caught, being MIA, I threw out your seashell collection. Yes, the three cans of shells from our trip to Cape Cod two years ago. I know you were saving those for something special. I feel terrible. Sometimes I get so mad you’re not here I want to scream or break something. So I lost control and threw the cans in the garbage.
I’ve already started a new piggy bank to save up to take you back to Cape Cod to replace those shells. I hope you’re not mad at me. I hope you understand. I don’t remember a time or any dumb thing I ever did you didn’t understand, Dan. So add this to your list.
Now and Forever 4, The Renovated Heart Page 11