Another Chance to Love You

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  “Have you told him how you feel?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t you think you should?”

  She covered her face with her hands and lowered her head toward her knees. “I don’t know what I should do. Even if he loved me, too, it couldn’t go anywhere.”

  Doug showed his usual patience, waiting quietly while she sorted her thoughts.

  Looking up again, she said, “Heather is completely enamored of her dad, of having him around all the time. She’s going to be heartbroken when he goes back to Chicago. And he’s just as taken with her. But none of it is normal right now.” She gave a humorless laugh. “You know how, when you first start to date someone, you only let them see you at your best? Your hair is always perfect and you always dress in your best outfits for your dates and you laugh at their jokes, even if you don’t find them that funny.”

  He smiled but still said nothing.

  “Well, that’s how it is between the two of them right now. They’re both on their best behavior. They’re having fun, like a couple of pals. But it isn’t real. Being a parent can get messy. What if he finds out he doesn’t want anything to do with Heather once it does? Or what if he loves me, too, and he proposes and I have to refuse him because of our differences of belief? What if he walks out on Heather because I love him but won’t marry him? Heather could lose her dad because of me.”

  Doug reached out and took hold of one of her hands. “I think you’re borrowing trouble. Give the guy some credit. I don’t think you could love him if he didn’t have more character than that.”

  Oh, how she prayed Doug was right.

  “Tell him how you feel, Fletch. It’s the right thing to do. For everybody concerned. Maybe God will work a miracle for you two.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Thanks, Doug. You’re a good friend.”

  Daniel found the dance studio without mishap, but he was dismayed to find himself in a small room with a number of students’ mothers, Becky Stover among them. Shortly after the girls went off to their lesson, Mrs. Stover confirmed her divorced status and made it clear— as Daniel had suspected last night—that she was readily available to him, should he be so inclined.

  He wasn’t.

  He spent the hour fending off Becky Stover’s blatant come-ons, in addition to answering the fanlike questions of the other women in the room. Although he didn’t show it, he wasn’t in the best of moods by the time the ballet class let out.

  Heather and Mary ran into the waiting room, wearing their tights and leotards and carrying their dance cases.

  “Hey, Mom,” Mary said, “can Heather come over to our house to play?”

  Becky turned sultry brown eyes toward Daniel. “If it’s okay with Mr. Rourke.”

  “Sorry.” He shook his head. “Heather’s supposed to stay home today.”

  “Please, Daddy,” Heather piped in. “I won’t stay over at Mary’s too long.”

  He gave his head another shake. “You know what your mom said. You’ve got that project for Sunday school to finish. Maybe you could ask Mary to come to your house afterward.”

  “But it’d be okay for me to go to Mary’s if you said it was. Please, please, please.”

  Her eyes looked so big and round and hopeful, it was tough to say no to her. But he did it anyway, figuring Monica knew best. “Sorry. Come on. We’d better get going.”

  “But, Daddy!” she wailed.

  Becky Stover stepped to his side and placed a hand on his arm. “I really wouldn’t mind, Mr. Rourke. I’d be happy to bring Heather to your house, if you’d give me your address.”

  In a pig’s eye, he thought as he met her gaze. “Sorry,” he repeated, not bothering to tell her they weren’t going to his house. He looked at Heather again. “I said let’s go.”

  “It’s not fair!” She stomped a foot for emphasis.

  Daniel was losing patience. “Now, Heather.”

  “Mama would let me go if she was here.”

  “Well, she’s not here.”

  Heather stuck out her chin. Her mouth was pressed into a thin, flat line, and her eyes narrowed as she glared at him. Make me, they seemed to say.

  He couldn’t believe this was happening. Right here in public. Everyone in the room was watching, waiting to see what would happen next, waiting to see how he would handle his daughter’s defiance.

  Not well, obviously.

  “Unless you want to feel the palm of my hand against your behind, you’d better get it out to my car… Now.”

  Her expression turned from insubordinate to desolation in an instant. With a sob, she turned and fled. In her wake, the waiting room was absolutely silent.

  What, he wondered, had happened to the perfect little angel he’d known for the past two weeks?

  Daniel made it a point not to meet anybody’s gaze as he followed after his daughter. He was fairly certain he’d had a right to feel angry, but at the moment, what he felt was about two inches tall.

  So maybe this parenting stuff wasn’t a piece of cake after all.

  Monica returned home at six o’clock that evening. Even before she opened the door, she recognized the scents of chili powder and hamburger. Once she was in the hallway, she heard the sizzle of meat frying in a skillet. She’d thought she was too tired to be hungry. She’d thought wrong.

  Daniel was alone in the kitchen when she entered.

  “Hi.” She placed her purse on the island counter. “Where’s Heather?”

  “In her room.”

  Something in his tone told her all was not well. She turned to look at him.

  “Don’t ask,” he warned.

  She glanced toward the stairs.

  Daniel must have read her mind. “There’s nothing wrong with her. At least nothing that won’t be cured when I leave.”

  So…the honeymoon was over. She wondered what caused the rift between father and daughter.

  He tipped his head toward the skillet. “Tacos. I thought you’d want something to eat. Heather hasn’t eaten, either.”

  “Are you staying?” she asked, despite thinking she shouldn’t.

  “I need to get home.”

  He was going to run out on them. At the first sign of trouble, he was leaving. It was a good thing she hadn’t let him know her feelings. It would be better, easier, this way.

  Daniel wiped his hand on a dish towel, then stepped toward her. His brows were drawn together in a frown, and he spoke in a low but firm voice. “It wasn’t anything serious. Just a slight difference of opinion. I won.” He gave her a halfhearted grin. “At least I think I did.”

  She wasn’t sure whether to smile back at him or not. She wasn’t certain what he meant exactly. She’d thought…

  He kissed her forehead, then whispered, “You look tired. Maybe I should stay until after supper. Do the dishes for you. I guess my laundry can wait.”

  “Your laundry?”

  He drew her into his arms and kissed her again, this time on the mouth. The kiss was gentle and light, filled with caring tenderness. When he pulled back, he said, “You thought I was leaving because Heather and I had a fight. Didn’t you?”

  Honesty demanded that she nod.

  “I don’t give in that easy, Monica.”

  “You did before.” She searched his face, trying to gauge his reaction.

  “Yeah, you’re right. I did before.”

  “Weren’t you ever sorry? Didn’t you ever want to call me? Not even once?”

  His grip tightened on her arms. “I did call. Remember? You had your mother tell me you never wanted to see or hear from me again.”

  At first his words didn’t make sense. Then, for an instant, she thought he must be lying. And finally, she believed him. “When? When did you call?”

  He frowned. “I don’t know. It must have been February. Maybe early March. I remember it was snowing outside. Why? Does it matter?”

  So that’s what her mother meant about her interference. Daniel had called and Ellen sent him away. She close
d her eyes. Oh, Mother, what were you thinking? Aloud, she said, “No, it doesn’t matter.”

  “Listen, Monica.” He cupped her chin with his fingers, forced her to look up at him. “I’m sorry about the past, but I can’t undo it any more than you can. It’s what we do from here on out that we have some control over. And one thing I’m not going to do is quit being Heather’s dad, even when she’s madder than a wet hen at me. Like she is right now.” He paused, then asked, “Is that understood?”

  For a moment they stared at each other. Then Daniel leaned forward to kiss her again. She placed a hand on his chest as she took a step backward, avoiding his lips and the temptation of his embrace.

  “Daniel,” she said softly, “I don’t want to make the same mistakes I made over a decade ago. We were in love then, you and I, but we wanted different things from life. We still do want different things.”

  His brows drew together in a thoughtful frown.

  “I don’t want a lover, Daniel. But I do want love. I want to fall in love, to be in love.” I am in love. “I’d like to get married to a man who loves both me and the Lord. I’d like to spend lots of time with my husband, to have our home be a place of warmth and safety. I’d like more children, God willing.”

  His expression altered very little as she spoke. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, how he was reacting to her words. The room was too quiet. Her chest ached, and she was certain her heart was breaking.

  Finally, his voice so low she barely heard him, he asked, “Could you love me again?”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. A lump the size of a softball formed in her throat. She mouthed the word, yes, but no sound came with it.

  “Then don’t we owe it to ourselves to see if we can work things out?”

  She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision.

  He reached out, and she allowed him to take hold of her hands. “Monica, I don’t know what any of this means. I’m kind of confused myself. Being with you and Heather, I’ve started thinking about what’s missing in my life. I…I’d like to see if I can’t find some answers to the questions I’ve been asking. Maybe you can help me find those answers.”

  “Daniel, I’m not the one to—”

  “Maybe I could go to church with you tomorrow. Would that be all right with you?”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Let’s give us the summer to get to know each other again. Let’s start over, without preconceptions or any walls from the past. Maybe there isn’t any future for us, except as parents to Heather. But maybe there is. You’ve made it clear what your conditions are for loving a man, for wanting a lifetime with him. Now what I need is a chance, to see if…well, you know. To see if I can meet those conditions.”

  Monica knew she should send him away. She had kept herself in a safe emotional cocoon for many years. Now he was asking her to take another risk.

  “There’s something special going on between us, Monica. Give us a chance to see if we can’t work it out. Will you?”

  She couldn’t fight him any longer. It was too late anyway. She had already fallen in love with him a second time. The hurt couldn’t possibly be less if he walked out today instead of three months from now. And if there was a chance he might never walk out, if there was a chance he might choose both God and her, then she had to take the risk.

  “All right, Daniel,” she whispered. “We’ll start over. I’ll give us the summer.”

  It would either be the best or the worst decision she had ever made, and Monica couldn’t foresee which one it would be.

  Chapter Nine

  The hostess led Ellen and Monica through the bistro toward a table beside the window. The narrow, unpretentious restaurant was located in a restored part of the city, tucked between a movie theater and a trendy clothing store. Monica and her mother frequently came here for their Monday lunches. The food was good, the atmosphere fun, and once the noon lunch crowd had cleared out, it was quiet enough for them to enjoy their visit.

  And Monica wanted quiet today…because she had something very important to discuss with her mother.

  “I can’t believe this has happened on top of everything else,” Ellen said as soon as the hostess left them at their table. “First Daniel comes back to Boise after all these years, then that awful article appears in the newspaper and now this robbery. It’s too much for one person. It’s just too much.” She opened her menu and perused it, even though she ordered the same thing whenever they came here. “I don’t know how you’re coping with it all.”

  “There wasn’t anything wrong with that article, Mom. In fact, Heather thought it was—and I quote—‘pretty cool.’”

  Ellen lowered the menu and looked at her with amazement. “Nothing wrong with it? How can you say that? It told the whole world that Daniel is Heather’s father!”

  “What’s so terrible about that?” She was ashamed of her sharp tone, but she didn’t apologize. “He is her father.”

  Ellen leaned forward and whispered, “But you were never married. Everyone must be wondering—”

  “Mom, I can’t hide from the truth.”

  “That doesn’t mean it should be splashed all over the news.”

  Monica sighed. “No, Mom, it doesn’t. But I did live with Daniel, and I did have his baby The truth will find us out.” She looked out the window in an effort to hide her irritation.

  Tall trees cast lacy shadows across the bricked courtyard. Shoppers with paper bags and baby strollers and businessmen with suit coats and briefcases strolled along the sidewalk, enjoying the first day of June and the promise of summer that came with it.

  “Are you ready to order?”

  Monica glanced at the waitress. The young woman had bright red hair, a silver ring in her nose and a friendly smile.

  “I’ll have the club sandwich.”

  Ellen handed the waitress her menu. “And I’ll have a cup of the minestrone soup and a fruit plate.” She was doing her best not to look askance at the young woman’s appearance.

  When the two of them were alone again, Ellen straightened in her chair, lifted her chin and said in her no-non-sense voice, “You might as well tell me what you’ve got stuck in your craw. I can tell you’re annoyed with me about something.”

  Her smile vanished. “Yes, Mom, I am.” She searched for the right words. She’d been searching for them ever since Saturday night. But there didn’t seem to be any, so she simply blundered forward. “It’s about Daniel. He told me something this weekend. It was something you did years ago.”

  “Something I did?”

  “He said he called, and you told him I didn’t ever want to talk to him again. Is it true? He called, and you told him to go away and leave me alone?”

  Ellen blanched. She dropped her gaze to the center of the table. “It’s true.”

  “How could you do that, Mom?”

  She answered in a small voice. “I was trying to protect you. That’s all.” She looked up again. “You’d been so horribly hurt by what he did. You hadn’t heard from him in over two months and you’d done nothing but cry. I was worried about you. You were thin and pale. You didn’t eat enough to keep a bird alive. When he called, you were packing to leave for Salt Lake. You’d already made up your mind to give your baby up for adoption. You’d told me you wouldn’t want Daniel to marry you out of pity or obligation. So I thought…” She let her words fade into silence. After a tense moment, she added, “I am sorry, dear. I was wrong to interfere, but I thought I was protecting you. I hope you can forgive me.”

  Monica felt the last dregs of anger drain away. All she could feel was deep sadness. Could it have been different? Would Daniel have married her if he’d known? Would they have been happy? The questions could never be answered, of course. There was no undoing the past.

  She reached across the table and covered her mother’s right hand, patting it gently. “It’s okay, Mom. I understand why you did it. Of course I forgive you.”

  Ellen gave her one of those penetr
ating looks, so peculiar to mothers. “I was right, wasn’t I? You do still care for Daniel. When I saw him with you at church yesterday—”

  “I don’t know what I feel for him,” Monica lied. She glanced out the window again. “It’s all very confusing at the moment.”

  That much, at least, wasn’t a lie.

  “Are you sure you can’t cut this sabbatical thing short?” Charley Cooper’s voice sounded as if it was coming through a tunnel. “We need your expertise around here. Ed could use your help on a story he’s working on. It’s a hot one. Would be even better with the Rourke perspective.”

  “Get off your speaker phone, will you, Charley?” Daniel replied, ignoring everything else his editor said. “I can hardly understand you.”

  Charley’s voice was much clearer when he continued, “You didn’t answer me. When are you coming back?”

  “I told you all along it wouldn’t be until September.”

  “But we need you now.”

  Daniel closed his eyes as he leaned his back against the doorjamb. It was easy to imagine Charley, seated at his enormous desk in the office that overlooked the Chicago River and had a view of Lake Michigan. His gray-white hair would be sticking out in all directions from the frequent finger-rakings it received throughout the day. He would be doodling with a blue, felt-tip pen on whatever piece of paper was handy. His wire-rimmed glasses would be perched close to the end of his short, bulbous nose, and his bushy eyebrows would be drawn together in a thoughtful frown.

  “Rourke, are you listening to me?”

  “I’m listening, Charley, but I’m not going to change my mind, so you can save your breath. I’m staying in Boise for the summer.”

  Charley muttered something on his end of the line—something undoubtedly colorful and not meant for polite company.

  Daniel grinned, enjoying himself.

  “I suppose this has something to do with that daughter you’ve got out there.”

  “Yeah, it’s got something to do with Heather.” And with her mother.

  “Book tours. Kids. Sabbaticals. Utter nonsense, all of it, if you ask me.”