Dream Mender

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Dream Mender Page 11

by Sherryl Woods


  “Oh, Jenny, Jenny. Are you just lying to me or to yourself, too?”

  “Go away, Otis.”

  He grinned at her. “I’m going,” he said. “By the way, I’m betting on a fall wedding. Don’t let me down. I’ve got a bundle riding on it.”

  Horrified, Jenny chased after him. When she caught him, she backed him against the wall, fire in her eyes. “Who would you make a bet like that with?” she demanded. “Otis, if you’ve been spreading gossip all over this hospital, you are history, dead meat…” She searched for a fate so terrifying it would put the fear of God into him.

  “Don’t go getting yourself in a dither. The bet’s with Pam.”

  “Pam?” she repeated incredulously. Her friend, her pal, was engaging in bets with Otis behind her back? And about her wedding to a man she was barely even speaking to?

  “She’s betting on May,” Otis said cheerfully. “Personally, I don’t think either you or Frank is smart enough to make a move that fast. Only a few more days left in the month. Told her that, too, but the kid’s a real romantic. She really wants a May wedding. She’s probably in there right now working on Frank.”

  Jenny clenched her teeth. “There will be no wedding,” she said slowly and emphatically. “Not in May. Not in the fall. Not ever.”

  Otis’s smile spread across his face. “You want to make a bet on that, too? I’ll give you great odds. Wouldn’t even mind losing this one. I like the man. I think he’s good for you. Puts a little color in your cheeks. Like now. Pink as can be.”

  Jenny groaned and went back to the therapy room, where she threw every piece of foam rubber in the place as hard as she could. When that didn’t even dent her frustration, she started on noisier supplies. The door opened just as a jar sailed across the room. Frank ducked as it shattered mere inches from his head.

  “Having a bad day?” he inquired lightly.

  “A bad day. A bad week. A bad month.”

  “Something happen after I left?”

  “No.” Nothing that she was about to admit to him.

  “Been to that aerobics class lately?”

  “What aerobics—” She stopped herself as she recalled that she’d told him about the way she spent her evenings. “Oh, of course, I told you about those. I forgot.”

  “Forgot you told me or forgot to go?”

  She was very tempted to tell him to go to hell just to wipe that smug grin from his face. Instead she inquired testily, “Did you come back for a reason?”

  “Sure did. I meant to tell you earlier that Tim got tickets for a Giants game tonight. He can’t go. Want to come with me?”

  Peanuts, popcorn and Cracker Jacks, all the lures of the song about the ballpark tempted her to say yes. “It wouldn’t be a date or anything, right?”

  He nodded agreeably. “Whatever you say.”

  How much trouble could she possibly get in with thousands of people around? Frank would be so busy yelling, he wouldn’t even have time to notice her. Lately he hadn’t seemed to notice her all that much anyway. “Okay,” she said finally. “What time?”

  “Now,” he said at once.

  “Now?”

  “I didn’t want to give you time to think it over and back out. Let’s go.”

  During the first inning, Jenny was thoroughly self-conscious. She kept waiting for Frank’s hand to squeeze hers, for his arm to slide around the back of her seat, for one of those bone-melting looks. His eyes never once left the ball field, and his hands were occupied with those peanuts and that popcorn she’d been daydreaming about earlier. She munched her own popcorn in oddly disgruntled silence.

  By the third inning, she was just hoping for some small sign that he remembered she was there at all. When a soft-drink vendor passed by on the aisle, Frank actually blinked, glanced in her direction and inquired if she wanted anything. She was absurdly grateful for the attention and took a soft drink she didn’t even want.

  When the crowd stood for the seventh-inning stretch, Jenny decided there was no longer anything to fear…or hope for. Frank had brought her to a ballgame because he knew she liked baseball. It wasn’t part of some grand seduction scheme. Why did that seem to irk her so when she had no intention of letting their relationship progress?

  She was still pondering that when the game ended with a winning bases-loaded homer by the Giants center fielder. Suddenly Frank’s arms were around her and he was swinging her in the air. His genuine exuberance was contagious. She was still laughing with him when the innocent embrace turned serious.

  She slid slowly down the length of his body as he lowered her feet to the ground. She was aware of every inch of contact, every exciting flare of heat between them. Her breath left her as her toes touched down. Fortunately Frank showed no intention of releasing her. If he had, she was certain her knees would have buckled.

  His gaze searched her face, his blue eyes darkening with desire. Her own heart was pounding.

  “Oh, damn,” she murmured finally as the strength for the battle with her own emotions ebbed.

  Frank gave a low chuckle at her heartfelt sigh. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  “You did this deliberately, didn’t you?”

  “Did what?”

  “Kept your distance until tonight, until just now?”

  “I was advised by an expert that heightened anticipation can accomplish miracles.”

  Jenny felt something shift inside her at his hopeful expression. “Frank, don’t,” she warned, but without much force.

  He grinned at her faint warning. “Don’t waste your breath. This is one argument you will never win. I intend to prove to you that what we have isn’t going to vanish overnight, that it isn’t some quirk of the patient-therapist relationship. I love you, Jenny Michaels, and one of these days you’re just going to have to accept that.”

  Jenny wanted to. Dear God, how she wanted to. But fate had dealt both of them a couple of low blows. She didn’t trust it not to have another one in store.

  Chapter Ten

  It took Frank three weeks after the baseball game to convince Jenny to once again spend some time with him outside of the hospital. She displayed an inordinate amount of distrust of his motives. No doubt that had something to do with the undeniable arousal he was sure she’d detected when he’d taken her into his arms in the bleachers at the end of the game. It they’d been anywhere but in the middle of a stadium, she might not have escaped so easily. At the very least, he would have kissed her the way he wanted to, slowly and deeply and convincingly.

  “Hey, I’m fighting for my life here,” he teased, trying to overcome her reluctance with the humor she seemed to prefer to serious declarations. “What’s one measly little afternoon? Surely you can trust yourself not to attack me and ravish me in that length of time.”

  Her brows rose a disapproving fraction. “I’m not the problem,” she reminded him pointedly.

  “Handcuff me,” he suggested.

  She chuckled at the outrageous option. “I don’t think we need to go that far.”

  Frank seized the faint hint of surrender. “You’re wavering. I can tell. What’ll it take? A promise written in blood? A chaperon? I’ll even ask Karyn to fly home and take your side. She’d love the chance to give me a little grief. She claims I made her dating life a living hell.”

  Jenny immediately appeared fascinated. “How? Too protective?”

  “Maybe a little,” he admitted ruefully. “She’s itching to even the score. I will invite her, though. Just say the word.”

  “No,” she said finally. “I guess I can trust you.”

  “Your faith is overwhelming.”

  “Don’t pout. Besides, I’m not finished. I’ll agree to see you, but only if I get to choose what we do. Something therapeutic.”

  Frank groaned, but agreed. “Anything you say. What’s it going to be?”

  “You’ll see,” she said with an unexpectedly impish little gleam in her eyes. “Sunday afternoon at three. Be ready. I’ll pick you up.


  Frank was so enthralled by the gleam in her eyes, so caught up in the seductive possibilities, that he forgot all about the Chambers Sunday dinner tradition. When his mother called that night to remind him, as she had every week since he’d moved out of the family home, he braved her wrath and announced, “Can’t make it this time, Ma. I’ve got an important date.”

  Her startled silence lasted no more than a heartbeat. “Important?” she repeated with obvious fascination. “You’ll bring her along. That’s no problem.”

  “It’s a problem. She’s already made plans.”

  “What plans?”

  “I don’t know. It’s a surprise.”

  “Well, you just surprise her and tell her you’re coming here. Is it Jenny?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wonderful. She’ll fit right in. Four o’clock, same as always.”

  She hung up before he could argue. Maybe they could do both, he thought reluctantly. Maybe Jenny wouldn’t mind at least dropping by for dinner, though the prospect of subjecting her to the fascinated examination of his family on a more concentrated level than the ones she’d been exposed to at their hospital visits was daunting. Tim and the others were not known for their subtlety. The already-skittish Jenny was likely to take off before dessert and never speak to him again.

  He hadn’t been off the phone five minutes when it rang again.

  “Frank?”

  From the sudden leap of his pulse, he would have known it was Jenny, even if he hadn’t recognized that tentative note in her voice. The only time she ever sounded that uncertain was when she was talking to him about their relationship, rather than the progress of his therapy. “Hi. Didn’t we just see each other? You aren’t calling to cancel our date already, are you?”

  “I’m not sure. I just had the oddest call from your mother.”

  Frank muttered a curse under his breath. He should have guessed she’d leave nothing to chance. “What did she want?” he inquired, though there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that she’d taken that Sunday dinner invitation into her own capable hands.

  “She said she wanted to personally invite me over on Sunday. She seemed to think you might not relay the message, something about a traditional family dinner.”

  “An astute woman, my mother.”

  “Frank, is your family getting the wrong impression about us?” Jenny definitely sounded troubled.

  “I doubt it,” he said. “It seems to me they’ve got it pegged.”

  “What?” She sounded even more alarmed.

  “Never mind,” he said quickly. “What did you tell Ma?”

  “What could I say? I told her I’d be delighted, but Frank, I am not delighted.” Each word was said with slow emphasis.

  “Then we won’t go. I told my mother we had plans.”

  He heard Jenny’s deep sigh. “I tried that, too. She doesn’t seem to take no for an answer. That’s when I caved in and said yes. That woman should pick a charity and become a fundraiser. She’d rake in millions.”

  “Believe me, I know the feeling. Trying to argue with her is like jogging straight into a brick wall. It’s up to you, though. We do not have to go, no matter what you told her. I’ll take care of it. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” he said, though, now that he thought of it, the idea of watching Jenny interact as a part of his family held an undeniable appeal.

  Now that she knew she had his support, she seemed to hesitate. “Is everyone going to be there?”

  “Everyone. I think these Sunday dinners were part of the compromise when we all started to move out. We swore that we would always come back once a week.”

  “Then you can’t very well back out of this one. You go. We’ll do something another time.”

  Frank grabbed desperately at the first response that came to him. “And have my entire family know that you broke our date because you were scared of them?”

  “I’m not scared of them,” she countered. “Well, not exactly, anyway. I just don’t want them to get the idea that there’s anything serious between us.”

  “It might be too late for that,” he admitted. “They all know how I feel. If you don’t show up Sunday, I guarantee each one of them will probably pay you a visit to tell you what a great guy I am. I don’t think any of them will beat you up…”

  He allowed the possibility to linger before adding, “They’re not usually violent. We all do tend to be pretty protective, though.”

  There was a long pause before Jenny said, “Are you saying I might have to listen to six separate sales pitches on your behalf?”

  “Seven. Ma’s a real tigress. Come to think of it, she might beat you up.”

  Jenny finally started chuckling. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, no, sweetheart. This is gospel.”

  “It might almost be worth it to stay home and see who turns up to list your attributes.”

  “You already know my attributes. Well, most of them, anyway. I’d be glad to share the rest anytime you’re ready.”

  “I’ll just bet you would. Okay, forget my surprise. We’ll go to dinner with your family. But I swear to you, if the words wedding or marriage even creep into the conversation in a whisper, I’ll turn you over to Otis.”

  “That’s no threat,” he scoffed. “He’s on my side.”

  “I was hoping you didn’t know that.”

  “I’m sure you were. See you Sunday.”

  Frank found himself looking forward to the prospect with a very odd mixture of buoyant optimism and gut-deep dread. The combined forces of all the Chambers would either win Jenny over, or scare her away for good.

  * * *

  Jenny stood outside the Chambers’s small, unpretentious home, Frank beside her, and battled the flutter of a thousand butterflies in her stomach. A fresh coat of paint in sedate white lost its innocent air in the red trim. The combination reminded her of the family, old-fashioned with an intriguing hint of quirky daring. Frank epitomized those qualities, though she doubted he saw himself that way.

  There was no mistaking the fact that he’d been courting her for all these weeks now, setting a pace that was just shy and patient enough to relax her guard. At the edge of all that caution, though, was the sly promise of dangerous desires about to be unleashed. Jenny was captivated, despite her best intentions to maintain a careful distance between herself and the man who was so trustingly offering her his heart.

  She’d been lured here today by curiosity and longing. It seemed like forever since she’d felt part of a family. Never had she even imagined belonging to a clan as boisterous and tight-knit as this one. She’d been unable to resist the chance to spend one brief afternoon in an environment filled with warmth and acceptance and love. It might be the only chance she ever had to experience what it could have been like had she dared to believe in Frank’s love, had she dared to make a forever commitment. Though she would never have admitted it to him, she was indulging herself in a dream, a dream that was both alluring and forbidden.

  “You’re shaking,” he observed, snapping her out of her lovely daydream. “Scared?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then you’re a braver soul than I am,” he said fervently, making her laugh and forget her fears.

  “They’re your family,” she reminded him.

  “Then my reaction ought to tell you something. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go skydiving?”

  “Absolutely not. I can’t wait to see why they have a grown man like you quaking in your boots.”

  He grinned and held out his hand. “Then let’s get it over with.”

  Before they’d made it up the front walk, the door was thrown open. Mrs. Chambers, wearing a simple navy dress with a prim, lacy, white collar under her apron, waited for them with a beaming smile. She wiped both hands on the apron, then held them out to Jenny. “Welcome, Jenny. Come in. We’ve been waiting for you. Everyone’s here.”

  As they walked toward the living room, Frank leaned dow
n and whispered, “I warned you. They’ve never been on time before. Today they couldn’t wait.”

  His mother hushed him. “Maybe they just knew I was making pot roast.”

  “Ma, you always make pot roast on Sunday.”

  “I do not. Just last week we had chicken.”

  “Tasted like pot roast to me,” Frank said.

  “Me, too,” Tim concurred, popping into the hallway. “Looked like it, too. Must have been all those carrots and baby onions you used to hide the meat.”

  Mrs. Chambers glared indignantly at the pair of them. “Keep it up and there will be no apple cobbler for the two of you.”

  “Cobbler again?” Peter chimed in with an exaggerated groan as he joined them.

  His mother waggled a finger in his direction. “Just for that, you can set the table. Now. Jenny, you go on in the living room and sit down. Daniel, Kevin and Jared are in there. Don’t let them gang up on you. If they start giving you a rough time, you can come hide out with me in the kitchen.”

  Jenny laughed. “I think maybe that’s my first choice anyway. Can I come now? I’d like to help.”

  Frank’s eyes widened in dismay. “Bad idea,” he warned. “The woman will try to pry information out of you. No secret will be safe. She’s going to want to know what your intentions are.”

  Mrs. Chambers patted Jenny on the shoulder. “Don’t listen to a word he says. You come right along. The rest of you, play nice,” she added in an echo of Jenny’s own advice to Tim and Frank weeks earlier. Jenny understood now why Tim had teased her so over the comment.

  Jenny had thought she’d feel safe in the kitchen, out of the reach of all those prying eyes, away from Frank’s hopes and everyone else’s expectations. And at first she did feel safe. At first it was comforting to be surrounded by the heavenly smell of the roast, the cinnamon-scented cobbler, the yeasty aroma of rising rolls.

  “What can I do?” she offered.

  “You can sit right over there and talk to me,” Mrs. Chambers said, waving Jenny toward a curved breakfast area. She gave Peter a handful of silverware and shooed him toward the dining room. She brought over a bag of beans and began snapping them as she sat across from Jenny. “You’ve been seeing Frank for a while now, isn’t that right?”

 

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