Forever Found

by Allyson Charles

Chapter Sixteen

  Even small actions have meaning. Gabe’s words rolled around in Marla’s head. It had been days since that conversation, but she couldn’t stop deconstructing it. Not only because there was wisdom in those words, but because she hadn’t had much else to occupy her time. Her plan to wait until Gabe left her bed and then ignore him had been quite successful. Primarily because he was ignoring her, too. She’d seen neither hide nor hair of him since that night.

  Which was good. It strengthened her resolve to guard herself against heartbreak. And now, alone once more, she could focus on her own personal growth.

  A breeze ruffled the umbrella over her table, and she tucked the edges of her scarf under her blazer. A heat lamp on the sidewalk patio of Le Jeune Cygne warmed her shoulders. Hoov and Mad warmed her feet. She’d finished a lovely meal at the French bistro in downtown Pineville and it was a beautiful day. The sun filtered through the leaves of the maple trees that lined Main Street and the bakery next door scented the air with sugar and yeast. But she couldn’t enjoy it. She stared into her cup of coffee. Gabe didn’t strike her as a particularly deep thinker, but he might be onto something. Maybe it wasn’t her life that was too small, but her expectations that were too big.

  Instead of grandiose dreams, she needed to be happy with what she did accomplish. She didn’t have to sit on the board of her father’s foundation or have some high-powered job to make a difference. It was the small kindnesses. Helping her community. Those were things she could do. Things she had done. She’d made a difference in Crook County. Nothing newsworthy, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t still take pride in her work. Like Forever Friends. It was a better shelter because of her. She didn’t need to stick her nose in the minutia of their business as Gabe used to complain about. It was Brad’s shelter, not hers. But that didn’t take away from her part in saving it.

  She also needed to stop comparing herself to a ghost. Her father thought Michael would have taken over the world. Maybe he would have. Or maybe he would have made a living drawing caricatures in Venice Beach. There was no way of knowing. But she’d been scared of not living up to her dad’s fantasies for too long. And she was tired of trying to prove to him she had a brain. She loved her father, but she didn’t want him living in her head.

  The owner of the bistro, Luke Hamilton, strolled out with a carafe of coffee in his hand. He topped her up. “Can I get you any dessert? The raspberry macarons are fresh from the oven.”

  She placed a hand on her stomach. “Thanks, but I’m stuffed. Everything was delicious.”

  Placing the carafe on the table, Luke squatted and gave each of her dogs some love. “That’s what I live to hear.” Mad rolled onto her side and pawed at Luke’s hand, demanding attention. He rubbed her belly as Marla gaped.

  “Oh my gosh,” she whispered. “Maddie actually wants you to pet her.”

  “Dogs love a man who smells like food.” With one last rub, Luke stood and picked up the coffee. “Well, got to get back to the kitchen. It was nice seeing you again, Marla.”

  Marla didn’t respond. She stared at her poodle. Mad rolled to her feet and shook. Turning her back to Marla and Hoover, she sat and lifted her head high.

  “You can’t pretend that didn’t just happen, baby girl.” Marla scratched behind one of the dog’s ears. “I saw it. You’re going soft.”

  Mad shook her head, her ears flying, her collar rattling.

  “Fine.” Marla held up her hands. “If you say so.” Reaching for her purse, Marla pulled out her wallet and wedged some cash under her coffee mug so it wouldn’t blow away. “Let’s go.”

  Mad stood to attention. Hoov rolled onto his back. One thin patch of hair on his mottled belly caught in the breeze.

  “Such a prima donna,” Marla muttered, her lips curving up. But she was getting used to his demands and had bought a bigger bag for the purpose. Scooping him up, she plopped him in her purse and headed for the gate to the sidewalk. She held it open for Maddie to trot through.

  They strolled up the street to her car. She loaded everyone in and walked around to the driver’s side. A head of silver hair across the street caught the sun before disappearing into an Italian restaurant.

  Marla squinted. Ric stood before the hostess station wearing a very nice button-down shirt, and next to him was…. Marla grinned. Well, look at the old dog go. The man who cheated at dominoes had just laid his hand on Debbie Garcia’s lower back to guide her to a table. Even though Marla’s love life was circling the drain, it was nice to know romance didn’t have an end date. There was still time for her.

  Her stomach sank to street-level. If she started looking for other men. Moved on from Gabe. The prospect wasn’t appealing.

  She heaved a sigh. Well, she couldn’t stand on Main Street all day, moping. She examined her polish through her open-toe pumps. She could refresh her pedicure. Or—she darted a glance back at the Italian restaurant—she could visit her deda. He was down a friend right now. Decision made, she hopped in her car and headed off.

  Fifteen minutes later she was pulling into the front lot of Golden Acres. It wasn’t difficult to find her grandfather. As soon as she stepped into the lobby, she heard him. Following the sound of “How High the Moon” to a smaller lounge at the far end of the building, Marla stopped by the door to the room. Maddie leaned into her thigh, and Marla rubbed her head as she watched her grandfather play.

  His fingers moved more slowly over the keys than they used to. The notes didn’t have quite the same strength. But age couldn’t diminish the beauty her deda created whenever he sat before an instrument.

  Hoover tried to climb out of her bag. She set him on the floor, and he ran to the sofa that held two women and all the petting he could want.

  Her grandfather looked up. “Hi, darling,” he said while continuing to play. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came for the concert.” She went across the room and dropped a kiss on his cheek. “You sound great.”

  Deda laughed. “When your fingers are bent with arthritis, ‘great’ is a bit beyond reach. But I’ll take good.”

  “Great,” she insisted.

  Her grandfather finished the song and closed the lid on the piano. He looked at her and the lines in his forehead deepened. “Is something wrong?”

  She shook her head, but had to clear her throat before she could speak. “Nope. Everything’s fine.”

  A bushy eyebrow caterpillared skyward. “It’s a beautiful day and I haven’t had my walk yet. Come with me?”

  “Of course.” She patted her thigh and called to Hoover, waiting to see if he’d give up his belly rubs. Surprisingly, he did, and raced over. Marla pulled a small leash from her purse and clipped it on his collar. The foursome exited onto a back patio and found a trail that circled a duck pond.

  Her grandfather linked his arm with hers. “Your father came to see me the other day. Did you know he was coming to visit?”

  Marla’s shoulders went rigid. “No. It was a surprise. Did he bother you?”

  “’Course not.” He bent over and picked up a discarded soda can. “We talked about your mother and he brought me some cigars. I’ve always got on well with your dad.”

  Marla took the can and found a spot for it in her purse. Her father could get along with just about anyone. It had made him an excellent leader at his company. Why was it so hard for the two of them?

  “He’s worried about you,” her deda said.

  “Yes, he made that clear.”

  “I worry about you, too.”

  Marla pulled up. Hoover strained at his leash, wanting to go after a mother duck swimming nearby with six ducklings trailing behind. Maddie nudged him away from the pond with her nose.

  “Why?” Marla asked. She wasn’t the one who’d survived cancer. It was her job to worry about him.

  Her grandfather stared out at the pond. “I’ve always
felt guilty about bringing you out here. Away from your friends and home. I should have told you to leave.” He shrugged. “But I like having you around.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder. It was a bit awkward as he was an inch shorter than Marla, but she made it work. “You aren’t an imposition. You never were.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “In fact, full honesty, I think I used you as a bit of an excuse.”

  “How’s that?”

  She hooked her arm around his side. “You know I’ve always wanted to prove to my dad how smart I am.”

  “That man deserves a good—”

  Marla chuckled. “This isn’t his fault. It’s my life. I let him influence it when I shouldn’t have. What I’m coming to realize is that even though I’ve wanted to prove myself, I’ve also been scared. What if I give it my all and I still don’t measure up?” That thought used to crush her. But it was out of her hands. She could end hunger worldwide and her dad would still think that Michael would have done it better. Ended it more quickly. That was his issue and it didn’t need to weigh her down any longer. “I think moving here was another way to avoid that problem. If I was here, taking care of my dear deda, I couldn’t be expected to take the world by storm.”

  She kissed his grizzled cheek. “Sorry about that, Deda.” She heaved a dramatic sigh. “You were nothing more than a pawn in my little psycho-drama.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” he said and gave her the side-eye.

  Marla laughed. “I’m glad I didn’t pursue psychology any further. It’s exhausting coming to all these discoveries. But I want you to know that whatever my reasons for coming here, I’m glad I did. I loved being able to help you when you needed me. And I love living here. Turns out, I’m not a city girl at heart.”

  They turned back to the path, going at a stroll. “I’m glad we got that sorted,” he said. “You really are one smart cookie. Don’t ever doubt that.”

  She kicked a pebble out of her path. “Well, I might have had some help coming to that conclusion. A, uh, friend pointed out some of my behavior.”

  “A male friend?”

  “It’s not like that, Deda. He’s younger. We’re at different places in our lives.”

  “But do you want it to be like that?” he asked.

  Marla remained silent.

  Deda patted her arm. “Tell me about him.”

  What could she say about Gabe? She wasn’t going to tell her grandfather she’d started a purely physical relationship with a man who hadn’t liked her all that much. “Well, he’s a veterinarian and works part time at Forever Friends. That’s how we met.”

  “And?”

  “And, nothing. He’s just…” Gabe.

  “Does he make you happy?”

  She chewed on the inside of her cheek. He’d made her very, very happy at times. He’d held her when she was upset. But other times… “Not always.”

  “Hmm. I’m going to have to meet this fellow. Bring him around sometime.”

  That wasn’t likely to happen. “Deda—”

  He nudged her with his elbow. “Did I tell you Mrs. Hansen crocheted another sweater for Hoover? It has a matching beret. Your poor dog is going to look like a French idiot.”

  “Her crochet work is beautiful.” Hoover would hate the hat, but his hairless body needed sweaters to keep warm. “I’m just glad the manager here lets me bring the dogs in. All the residents seem to like playing with them.”

  “It’s nice to have a bit of life in this place. You and the dogs are a high point for a lot of us.” He stopped at the edge of a patch of grass. “You have any balls in your purse I can throw for the dogs?”

  She dug around, thinking about her dogs being a high point at Golden Acres. She handed her deda a knotted bit of rope. “This is all I’ve got.”

  He squatted, held it out to Maddie. She gingerly took one end in her mouth and walked backwards, playing a very dainty game of tug-of-war.

  “Do you think Golden Acres would let other dogs come in?” Marla asked, an idea brewing.

  “I don’t know. Why?” He play-growled at Maddie, and the dog narrowed her eyes and growled back. Hoov stood next to her and yipped in solidarity.

  “Just an idea I have that could maybe help both the residents here and the dogs at the shelter.” She rocked onto her toes. The residents did love the dogs, but there were only the two of them. The ratio of canine to resident was far from optimal.

  Her deda stood and rubbed his lower back. “Well, you have great ideas. I’ve always thought you should start your own foundation, like your dad’s. Work on the different projects you like.”

  Marla blinked. “That’s…something to think about.”

  “And you have a great resource. Your dad knows all the nuts and bolts that go into operating one.” He draped an arm over her shoulder, and they turned onto the path. “I’m sure he’d be happy to give you pointers.”

  Marla twirled her ring and remained silent on the walk back. She was sure her father would be happy to tell her all that she didn’t know. She closed her eyes. She needed to get past this. Her dad and she might never see eye to eye, but he loved her. He wanted the best for her. A lot of people got a lot less from their parents.

  She kissed her grandfather goodbye and loaded her dogs into her car. But she didn’t start it. She stared at her phone, trying to gather her nerve. The diamonds in her ring caught the light as she spun it around her finger. She stopped the nervous motion and stared at the ring.

  It was beautiful. Her father had given it to her with love. But she didn’t want it on her finger every day. She didn’t need that daily reminder that she fell short in her dad’s eyes. Not anymore.

  She pulled it off and slipped it into her pocket. With a deep breath, she found the contact in her phone and dialed the number. He picked up on the second ring.

  “Hi, Dad. Do you have time to talk?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “No.” Gabe shook his head and stomped on the accelerator. “No more errands. You’re wasting my time and I’m done.”

  His uncle shifted in the passenger seat, his right hand disappearing by the door. The seat popped back, and he stretched out his right leg with a sigh. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about. You got some fishing line at that last store, too.”

  That last store being a sporting goods emporium where his uncle just had to buy a box of golf-sized whiffle balls. The store before that had been a five-and-dime where Simon had bought a twelve-pack bag of white socks. And before that, he’d had to go to the drugstore to pick up his meds.

  Well, that one had been legit. When Simon had called Gabe that afternoon saying he was down to his last blood pressure pill and Jethro was nowhere around, Gabe had been hard-pressed to refuse his request for a ride to the pharmacy. His decision was made easier by the carrot his uncle had dangled—more names potentially involved in dog fights. But he danced around any attempt on Gabe’s part to extract that information and seemed to delight in making Gabe a taxi service.

  Enough was enough. “I’m taking you home. Jethro can run you around if you have any more errands.” Flipping on his blinker, Gabe pulled over, preparing to flip a U-turn when the coast was clear.

  “But we haven’t gone to Stop & Shop,” Simon whined.

  “You can go grocery shopping later.” Christ, he’d only asked his uncle a couple of questions. He didn’t deserve to get roped back into the family fold for that.

  Simon turned onto one hip and leaned on the center armrest. “Come on.” The teasing, cajoling note in his voice lanced Gabe’s chest. He’d forgotten how much his uncle and father had sounded alike. And looked alike.

  Gabe darted a glance at the old man from the corner of his eye. Simon’s nose was a bit longer than his dad’s had been, his lips thinner. But the resemblance was close enough many people had thought they’d been twins.
And they’d both loved a good time. Dancing, laughing, drinking, making everyone around them feel alive. Making Gabe feel alive. He’d treasured the times the four of them would go out fishing or to the horse races, him and Jethro trying to out-do each other to be as cool as their dads.

  Until the fights had started. Then Gabe’s rose-colored glasses had shattered into a million jagged pieces.

  He swallowed, the back of his throat gone raw. “You said you had information for me, but that was obviously a lie. I have other things to do.”

  Simon gazed out his window, his reflection pale and distorted. “I just wanted to spend some time with my brother’s boy. I miss him. And you,” he added quietly. He jerked up straight and faced forward. “Is that so damn wrong?”

  Gabe twisted the leather grip on the steering wheel. The road reflected in his side mirror was empty, the way clear to take his uncle home.

  The distance between their houses was less than ten miles, yet they hadn’t seen each other for fourteen years. His family. His blood. And he hadn’t wanted anything to do with Simon. Didn’t want anything to do with him, he corrected. Couldn’t. Because that would mean he’d have to come to terms with what his uncle and father had done, what Gabe had helped them to do. With understanding came forgiveness, but this was something he could never forgive.

  Simon grimaced and shifted his leg, rubbing his thigh with the heel of his palm. He’d been favoring his other leg, said something about a sore on his right leg when Gabe had asked. Gabe dropped his head back on the seat rest, the anger and resentment draining out of him. Simon couldn’t have that many years left. The least Gabe could do was drive him to the store.

  “One more stop, then we’re done.” Pulling back onto the road, Gabe continued straight until he hit the city limits of Marysville.

  “Thanks.” Simon looked down at his hands. “I didn’t have any more information for you. I don’t know who’s running the new games. I’m out of the loop.”

  That Gabe could believe. If Simon was dependent on his son to drive him around, his social life would be limited. And fourteen years was a long time.