Her Reason to Stay

by Anna Adams

  “I think you might be fooling yourself. I know Patrick’s fighting for his son.” The other woman made her tone gentle. “But I care about mine.”

  “I don’t want to be a problem for either of them.”

  “You can see why he’d be careful.”

  “I can’t confess my sins on the village green and promise to sin no more.”

  “Patrick doesn’t see you that way.”

  “I don’t think you’ve really talked to Patrick about it.” Daphne started for her car.

  “I don’t like to see you upset, either.”

  Daphne stopped and turned her head. Gloria looked anxious, a little sad. “Why?” Daphne asked. “You don’t know me.”

  “You saved my grandson. You stopped that man, and yet you felt some sympathy for him. You’re not a bad woman.”

  “Just bad for your son.”

  “I don’t believe that. But if Patrick can’t be sure you’re safe for Will, he feels he has to stay away from you.”

  “So he sent his mother to explain.” Daphne walked away, ashamed of her temper, and yet, nothing would have dragged her back.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “YOU DID WHAT?” Patrick shut the car door at the sheriff’s office. Gloria had come to view a lineup and he’d come to support her.

  “I like Daphne. I just wanted her to know she was welcome at my house no matter what you choose to do.”

  “You understand I’m trying to be a good father for Will?” She sent him a look and he shook his head. “How masculine do I look if you’re out harvesting women for me?”

  “I’m serious, Patrick. You’re making a mistake because you were a little blind with Lisa. Lisa’s in the past.”

  “I’m just wondering what more we can do to hurt Daphne. She ought to be able to walk out of a church without you matchmaking when she and I know where we stand.”

  “Neither one of you has a clue, and I blame you.”

  “You’re probably right to, but don’t bother Daphne anymore, Mother.”

  “She’ll be in there.”

  “Maybe not.” Pathetic. “They won’t want the two of you to meet and discuss your selection.”

  “I shouldn’t have spoken to her at the church,” Gloria said, “but you need to. You hardly know the woman and yet you’re hoping for a glimpse of her today.”

  “Mother—”

  “Everything you feel for Will, I feel for you, and I hate seeing you unhappy. You’re lonely.”

  “Not for Daphne.”

  Gloria wasn’t about to let him off the hook. “Do you ever think about what you’re going to do when Lisa comes back?”

  “I rarely think about anything else. But right now we’re going inside this building so that you can identify the guy who grabbed Will. Is now the best time to talk about Lisa, even if she didn’t influence him?”

  “I’m just saying, one way or another you’ll have to learn to trust that a woman can beat addiction.”

  “Okay. Let’s go inside.”

  At the reception area, an officer took her toward the back and invited Patrick to cool his heels. He’d hardly waited two minutes when the door from the back opened and Daphne came out.

  Her face was tense. Tears pooled in her eyes.

  Frowning, he went to her. “You didn’t recognize him?” he asked.

  “I did.”

  Around them, people milled like ants in a colony run amok. A woman screamed that her daughter was not guilty. A man described the wallet he’d lost in the parking lot of Draper’s Diner.

  Over all those voices, Patrick kept hearing Daphne’s, half-broken by dismay. “I did.”

  “Do you know that guy?”

  She shook her head, but something in her eyes frightened him. “You admitted he was the one? You identified him?”

  “Yes, yes.” She seemed to hear the rage, blowing up like a balloon to fill his head.

  “But you didn’t want to?”

  “Of course I wanted to.” She took his hand and pulled him out of the office, all the way to the street, where sun beat down on his skull and he could barely think. “I find it hard to take when someone like that guy—or me—gets so wasted that doing bad things becomes easy.”

  “Stop.” Patrick put his arms around her. He cradled the nape of her neck and turned her face into his chest. “I don’t want to hear you compare yourself to him.”

  “I don’t have any sympathy except that I’ve been that desperate and the memory scares me.” Her voice was muffled, but she wouldn’t give in and give him peace.

  “Patrick?”

  He turned. Daphne sprang back as if Tom Drake, the sheriff who was watching them from the steps above, had thrown ice water on them.

  “We need to talk,” Tom said.

  Patrick glanced at Daphne. She yanked at the hem of her blouse, smoothed her jeans over her thighs and walked away. Patrick scowled after her, but joined Tom.

  “What’s up?”

  “Lisa’s coming home. You need to prepare yourself. She’s in a rehab facility in California right now, but in a few months she’ll be home. According to her attorney this thing with Frank was a wake-up call. She’s going to seek a change in custody when she returns.”

  Patrick turned. Daphne was out of earshot. Even if he yelled her name, he doubted she’d come back.

  THE WEEKS PASSED, turning spring into summer. Danny Frank, looking a little healthier and clean after six weeks of jail food and iron-bar-enforced abstinence from narcotics, pled guilty, and received a sentence of three years.

  In the same six weeks, Daphne and Raina turned the apartment over the garage into a cozy nest where they spent most nights watching TV, talking, devouring popcorn and those kettle-cooked chips Clea had introduced Daphne to.

  “I wish we could find her,” Raina said one night over fajitas and a Johnny Depp marathon.

  Daphne paused the movie. “She thought she’d seen you at a senior center.”

  “I just don’t remember anyone who sounds like her. And I always ask about her granddaughter?”

  “Who’s actually her grandson.”

  “That’s embarrassing.” Raina cut a bite of fajita. Daphne made a face and lifted hers in her fingertips. “I’ll look for her again in the fall,” Raina continued. “Some people don’t come in until it’s cold.”

  “Maybe I could work there in the fall?”

  “You want to?” Raina asked.

  “Sure. It’s about time I gave back to this community.” Daphne grabbed a tortilla chip and soaked it in the queso they’d made. “It gave me you, and you’ve given me everything else.”

  “You’re using family hand-me-downs.” Raina peered around the polished, uncluttered family room, about twelve feet square, bound by a TV that presented in color but hadn’t communicated with its remote in decades, and a set of three bookshelves that held all Daphne’s treasures. “And you’re probably the only person who’s ever read anything in the library.”

  “You should grab a book now and then.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it. I’m going to nursing school.”

  “What?” Daphne sat straight up. “I’m impressed.”

  “Well, not nursing school exactly. White Rock College offers a B.S. in nursing and it’s only a forty-five-minute drive. I’ve been working on my application.”

  “Like they’d think twice before scooping up an Abernathy.” Daphne nibbled another chip and sank against the couch with a sigh of repletion. “You’ll have no problem getting in.”

  “My great-grandfather did endow their school of pharmacology, but I’m not mentioning that in my app.”

  “Good idea. No need to whack anyone over the head with a wrecking ball.”

  “You sound like you think you’re my mother.”

  “I think my soul’s about five centuries older than yours and I see the world more clearly.” Daphne rolled her head on the couch to grin at her sister. “So I know you’ll make one of the great nurses. I just feel bad for tha
t old Florence Nightingale.”

  Raina stared at her and then laughed. “Her reputation’s probably safe for a while.”

  “But this career will make you happy.”

  “Speaking of which, I hear they asked you to find a jury to put away Danny Frank. Before he pled-out, that is.”

  “Yeah. Prosecutors don’t ask that often.”

  “You refused.”

  “No doubt sealing the deal with Patrick.” She put her hand on her heart, otherwise ignoring its dull ache.

  “Did he say anything?”

  “Not a word. He got up and walked out, and I haven’t seen him since. The guy’s guilty, Raina. They were only willing to use me because they knew they could lose me as a credible witness because of my past and still have a great case because of Gloria.”

  “You’re the one who looked him in the eye.”

  “I’m the known drunk. Gloria’s respectable. And Patrick wants Danny buried because he thinks that’ll make Will safe from Lisa.”

  “She’s coming back.”

  Daphne slammed her feet from the coffee table to the floor. “Lisa? Is coming back here?”

  “In a couple of months. She’s in rehab. She wants Will back.”

  “Why didn’t Patrick say anything?”

  “He probably recognized it was already unethical asking you to help prosecute the guy.”

  “But I—” What? I love him. I want him to be safe, too? “I’m a coward. I should have taken the case.”

  “You’re not a coward. The system will work. They were just hoping to stack the jury and the odds. Why did you say no?”

  “So I could testify if it looked like he would get off.”

  Daphne hugged one of the cushions they’d sewn. “Is he all right?”

  “Will?”

  “I assume Will’s all right or you’d have said. Is Patrick all right?”

  “Why don’t you ask him?”

  A SOCCER BALL BOUNCED off Daphne’s ankle, and her flip-flop flew into a green shrub.

  “Aunt Raina, throw me my ball.”

  She used her finger to mark her place in The Scarlet Letter and picked up the ball. Will held out his arms like a basketball hoop.

  “I’m Daphne,” she said and tossed the ball. It went through his looped arms, garnering two points and Will’s manly disdain.

  “You throw like a girl.”

  “You’re welcome.” She leaned circumspectly into the shrub, trying to find her shoe and not impale herself.

  The ball bounced off her backside.

  “You can’t catch, either, Aunt Daphne. You should come to my house and play because you need lessons.”

  She straightened, her shoe in one hand, the other stroking the offended area. “I rarely catch with that portion of my anatomy,” she said. “You’re not here alone?”

  “My grandma’s buying me candy. She said I could wait outside the shop.” His little face wrinkled.

  Daphne scanned the square. There was a confectioner’s at the edge of the shopping area. He’d come a long way if he’d abandoned Gloria over there.

  “Are you sure Grandma said you could wait outside?”

  “Maybe she told me to wait beside her.”

  Holy crap. “Let’s find your grandma. I’ll bet she’s worried if she’s noticed you’re gone.”

  “I saw you and I wanted to play.”

  Will cradled his ball in one arm and then slipped his other hand into hers. Daphne looked down at his tiny fingers, and tears startled her. She rubbed her arm across her eyes and looked for Gloria, who must be losing her mind.

  “You know what, Will?”

  “What?”

  She pulled her phone off the clip on her purse. “Let’s call your daddy.” She paged back through her calls until she found the number for Patrick’s office.

  “Mr. Gannon is out,” his assistant said.

  “Could you reach him and have him call me at this number and tell him it’s about his son? And that Will is all right.” She gave her cell-phone number and hung up. “Have you seen Gloria yet?”

  “Who’s Gloria?”

  “Grandma.”

  “Nope. Can we get a hot dog?”

  “You don’t scare easy, do you, Will?”

  “You’re not very scary.” They walked a few steps. “But I don’t want you on my soccer team.”

  “I don’t blame you there,” Daphne said. “But I do play better than that. You surprised me when I was reading and then I was looking for my shoe.”

  “You have to be ready at all times.”

  “You watch soccer on TV?”

  He nodded.

  “Good. I was hoping your coach didn’t say stuff like that.”

  “Nah. He says you gotta have fun.” Will’s tone was disturbingly caustic.

  “I like his way better.”

  “’Cause you’re a girl.”

  Fortunately, her cell phone rang. She flipped it open and saw a local number. “Patrick?”

  “You have him?”

  “He was playing ball on the square.”

  “God.”

  “He’s fine.”

  “We’re walking away from the candy store right now,” Patrick said. “Do you know where that is?”

  “We’re on our way. He’s really all right except for being disgusted that I play soccer like a girl.”

  “You’ve been playing?”

  She didn’t blame him for sounding affronted. “No, which was my point when he insulted me. Here, I’ll let you talk to him.”

  Will hung back when she held out her phone. “Is Daddy mad?”

  “He’s glad you’re okay. Better talk to him.” She reached for his ball.

  “Hi, Daddy.” Will peered up at Daphne, his eyes wide. “Yes, sir,” he said. Then he shook his head. “I shouldn’t have, Daddy. Is Grandma okay?” He waited a second. “Okay, but Aunt Daphne’s a nice lady, too, Daddy. She helped me before and I knew she wasn’t a stranger ’cause she has Aunt Raina’s face.”

  Quick thinking. The little guy was smart. He handed her phone back.

  “I think he’s gonna be a little mad.”

  “Probably, because he’s so relieved. You know, you shouldn’t leave your grandma behind like that,” she said.

  “I know. That’s what Daddy said.” He grinned, all charm. “But I don’t always wanna shop with Grandma, and I like hanging out with you.”

  Daphne smiled. At least one of the Gannon men didn’t feel he was throwing away his chance at a clean future by talking to her.

  “Daddy.” Will shot down the sidewalk, dropping his ball to reach his father and grandmother, whose worried faces magically relaxed.

  Daphne chased the ball into the street and dawdled between a truck and a VW bug, allowing Patrick time to talk to his son.

  “Hey.”

  She turned around. Patrick stood alone. His smile touched off a seismic event in her heart, but she fought to control it. “He’s okay.”

  “Thanks. We’re going to talk about the meaning of ‘wait’ and ‘beside me.’” He took the ball, sliding his hand over hers. As if he also couldn’t be close without wanting to touch her.

  “Good.” She smiled even when she felt as if she might explode in a dozen pieces.

  “He trusts you, apparently.”

  “So he said. I’m glad,” she said, “but I tried to explain about staying with his grandmother.”

  “Thanks.”

  Any more thanks and she was liable to confuse gratitude for a break in his boundaries. “I should go.”

  He glanced down the sidewalk. His mother and Will were waiting, unabashedly watching. “I wish things could be different,” Patrick said.

  “They could. You just have to learn how to trust, even though that feels impossible.” Something about her nest-building with Raina, her few sweet moments with Will, had restored her self-confidence.

  “If I could decide to change, I would have been at your door weeks ago.”

  “I’m
not sure I’m your problem. Or Lisa, either.”

  “I have to get out of my own way?” He nodded and held out his hand as if she needed help back onto the sidewalk.

  She let him pull her, shameless in her need to feel the warmth of his palm, the pressure of his fingers, twining convulsively with hers.

  Daphne stared at the muscle working in his jaw. His eyes, all heat and banked emotion, made her heart stand still.

  Suddenly, he pulled her close. “Maybe it’s already too late,” he said.

  She held on, wanting to be closer, reveling in the play of his muscles beneath her hands. She breathed in his spice-and-male scent.

  “No,” she said. “It’s not too late, but I won’t wait forever, and I won’t play this game of getting close and pulling back.”

  “I’ve wanted to see you,” he said, his tone ragged.

  “I’ve been worried about you. Raina told me Lisa’s coming back.”

  “Daddy, what are you doing?”

  Patrick stepped back, but then turned her in front of him. She was unsurprised to find Gloria and Will only feet away.

  “Thanking Daphne for bringing you back to us.” Patrick pulled at his tie as if it were choking him.

  “Hunh,” Will said. He held out a cellophane bag. “Want some candy?”

  “We were actually on our way to lunch.” Gloria lifted the plastic bag from her grandson’s hands. “Maybe you’d join us, Daphne. Patrick’s coming.”

  “I can’t.” She looked around her for Raina’s book and caught a glimpse of Patrick’s relief. She must have left the book on the bench. “I was on my lunch hour and I have to go back to work.”

  “Awww,” Will said. “I could teach you some soccer.”

  “Some other day, we’ll ask Daphne ahead of time,” Gloria said.

  “Thanks,” Daphne said. “I seem to have lost something. I need to go back, but it was nice seeing you. Next time, Will, let’s meet under better circumstances.”

  Patrick had the guts to look regretful as she walked away.

  “What’s cirumstirrups, Dad?” Will asked.

  AT FIRST, Patrick thought the woman in Cosmic Grounds was Daphne. She had on jeans and a T-shirt. Her dark brown hair was in a loose knot on top of her head, but she looked up as he came closer, and he saw her eyes.