Maya was waving a handful of papers and grinning from ear to ear. “No. I was looking for you. I got the report and the insurance check. Already!”
“That’s great. Was it satisfactory?”
“I think so. I have no idea what materials cost.” She showed him the check. “Will this be enough?”
“Looks like it to me.”
She beamed. “Great. When can we go to work?”
“Whenever you want,” he answered, welcoming Maya onto the covered porch. “Would you like to come in?”
“I don’t know that I should,” Maya replied, seeming unusually reluctant. “Remember, your dad and mine never agreed on anything, especially about how to run the High Plains government, what little there is.”
“That’s all past history.”
“For you and me, maybe. Funny how things worked out, isn’t it? Our parents were political rivals not a bit friendly to each other, yet we do fine.”
He clasped her hand and was thrilled when she wove her fingers between his. “We do, don’t we? Where’s the princess this morning?”
“Vacation Bible School. Last time I saw her she was busy trying to explain the finer points of Christianity to Tommy—and to her teachers.”
“That must have been entertaining to watch.”
Maya grinned. “Actually, I had trouble keeping a straight face. Then, when I stopped to pick up my mail and saw this settlement, I decided to come find you so we could celebrate together.”
“I’m glad you did.”
Greg was about to escort her around to the side of the house and show her a garden bench and trellis he’d just restored when the mahogany front door swung open and his father stepped outside. One look at the old man’s expression told Greg far more about Dan’s foul mood than he wanted to know.
“What’s she doing here?” Dan demanded.
“You remember Maya Logan, don’t you, Dad? She came looking for me.”
“Figures. She sure as blazes didn’t come to visit me.” He was wheezing as he spoke. “Doesn’t belong here, anyway.” Glaring at Greg, he added, “You should know better than to get involved with the likes of her. She tell you she’s got a kid and no sign of a husband?”
Positioning himself between Maya and his father, Greg said firmly, “That’s enough.”
“Oh, so that’s how it is, eh? Fine. Hang out with riffraff if it makes you happy. I can always cut you out of my will.”
“And leave all this to who?” Greg asked, gesturing at the three-story limestone mansion with its red metal mansard roof and vast array of outbuildings to match. He was so angry he was trembling. “You know what? I don’t care what you do. Sell everything and burn the money you get, for all I care.”
“Hah! You can’t fool me. You came back here to kiss up to me so you’d be sure I didn’t leave my estate to somebody else.”
“No,” Greg countered, standing stiffly to face the man he had once idolized, then come to despise. “I’m here because Michael told me how sick you were. I thought maybe you and I could finally make peace.”
“You never were worth a lick after your mama died,” Dan shouted, beginning to cough. As soon as he regained control and caught his breath he added, “I see you didn’t learn a thing in those fancy schools I sent you to.”
Slipping his arm around Maya’s shoulders Greg started to guide her away, to take her far from the vitriol his father was spewing. He could take that kind of harshness. He was used to it. But there was no excuse for Dan’s treatment of Maya.
All Greg said to her was, “I’m sorry.”
When she pulled away, she paused and gazed up at him to reply, “No. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I never should have come here.”
Clearly, she had been badly hurt by the old man’s words. It felt as if all the progress they had made in their budding relationship during the past few weeks had vanished in moments. Moments there was no way to erase.
How many others felt the same horrible way about her and Layla? Maya wondered, pacing her apartment. How many were too polite or too Christian to say exactly what Dan Garrison had? Did she dare think there might be many? Was that fair, or was she borrowing trouble? Perhaps both.
She wanted to unburden herself to Reverend Michael but couldn’t bring herself to do so. Not now. Not yet. If he looked at her the way Greg’s father had, she didn’t think she could take that rejection.
Nevertheless, the urge to act, to do something to mend Greg’s rift with his father, was strong within her. Should she go back to the Garrison estate, face the old man and try to explain? Did she have enough courage? An even better question was, would Dan listen to her?
So what if he didn’t? she reasoned, angry with herself for hesitating. “If God be with me, who can stand against me?” she paraphrased, hoping scripture would bolster her flagging resolve. It did. Some. So did constant, beseeching prayer. Finally, she came to the conclusion that nothing she might say or do could make things worse between Greg and his father than they already were, so what was she waiting for?
Out of plausible excuses and trembling at the thought of once again facing Dan Garrison, Maya climbed back into her car and headed toward the estate. She didn’t know what she was going to say. She simply knew she must try. Dan was probably about to meet his Maker. Facing that final judgment with a heart full of unresolved anger and resentment was the worst thing imaginable.
As she drove she tried rehearsing a plausible speech. It was hopeless. No sooner had she had a valid thought than it was replaced by confusion. By the time she once again stopped in the estate drive, she was so befuddled she hardly knew her own name.
“Thank You, Jesus. Greg has left,” she whispered, noting that his SUV was no longer parked next to the house. It looked as if she’d have Dan all to herself, like it or not.
That idea proved wrong when she rang the bell and a nurse in a white uniform opened the door. “Yes?”
“I’m Maya Logan,” she explained. “I was here earlier and I wondered if I might speak with Mr. Garrison again.”
The young woman arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure you want to do that? He’s not in the best mood today.”
“When is he?” Maya asked with a wan smile. “I’ll take my chances. I shouldn’t be long.”
The nurse stepped back. “Okay. It’s your funeral.”
Following the nurse up the spiral staircase to the second floor, Maya managed to swallow past the lump in her throat. “Speaking of funerals, what is his current condition? I wouldn’t want to say anything that might make him worse.”
“Hah! That old stinker will probably outlive us all. He likes to pretend he’s on his last legs but I’ve worked for him long enough to know he’s not as sick as he wants everyone to believe.”
“He’s faking?” Maya was astounded.
“Oh no, he has a chronic cough and emphysema, all right. But it’s not immediately life-threatening.” She lowered her voice. “If you want to know the truth, I think he convinced everybody he was at death’s door just to get his son to come home to see him.”
Maya sent up another silent prayer, this time in thanks for what she’d just learned. Okay, Father, she prayed, I know I won’t kill him if I confront him. Now all I need is the strength to actually do it.
If her hands hadn’t been perspiring and her knees hadn’t been shaking, she might have felt a lot more confident.
Remember, this is for Greg’s sake, she told herself, knowing that was the truth. The man she was about to face was his father. That, alone, made him important.
The nurse knocked on a closed door, opened it in response to Dan’s summons, and stepped out of the way.
Chin up, spine straight, shoulders back, Maya gathered her courage and entered the lion’s den.
Greg had driven around the perimeter of the estate to check the fences and was in the barn, talking to the estate caretaker about needed repairs, when he heard a car door slam.
The nurse has probably quit, he thought
, wondering how the poor woman had coped with his father for as long as she had. Most of the staff, or what was left of it, did as they thought best in spite of Dan’s ranting and raving. If they hadn’t, Greg knew the mansion and estate grounds would have fallen into ruin long ago. He wasn’t sure whether the problem was that Dan didn’t really care, or that he was so ill he was unaware of what needed to be done. Either way, it was the seasoned employees who had taken matters into their own hands and had managed to hold the place together.
Circling the house, Greg did not expect to see a car he recognized. Maya? What was she doing back here? He broke into a jog. The car was empty but the hood was still warm when he put his hand on it.
His head snapped around. He squinted at the house. No. She didn’t. She couldn’t have. Dear God, please don’t let her be inside. Not with him.
Greg took the stone steps two at a time and burst in the front door. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light of the foyer. There wasn’t a soul in sight. Not Maya. Not the nurse. And not Dan.
He thought about calling out, then decided against it. If Maya was there and Dan wasn’t aware of it, the best thing to do would be to rescue her and usher her out before the old man had another chance to berate her.
Greg gritted his teeth as he hurried through the empty lower rooms and circled back to where he’d started. He looked at the stairway. His heart was in his throat and his pulse was pounding. If Maya was upstairs there was no telling how bad things would be. Or how long, if ever, it would take him to undo the damage his reprehensible, bitter father might do.
“I have nothing to say to you,” Dan told Maya as he lounged against a stack of pillows at the head of a grand four-poster bed. “Go away.”
She stood firm. “I came here to say my piece and I’m going to say it, whether you like it or not.”
He laid his hand on his chest. “I’m a sick man. I can’t take stress.”
“No, but you sure can hand it out, can’t you?” Sensing that she had surprised him by her candor she edged closer. Apparently, so few people stood up to Mr. Garrison he didn’t know how to react when someone did.
“I spoke the truth about you.”
“With malice,” Maya said, nodding. “But, yes, you were right. I am an unwed mother. I love my little girl and no matter what you or anyone else says, I’m proud of her. Proud to be her mother.”
“Hah!”
“I don’t care if you choose to believe me or not,” she said flatly. “That’s not what’s important. I came here to talk to you about your son.”
“Gregory is no concern of yours.”
“Maybe that’s true. But he is a concern of yours, isn’t he? That’s why you decided to make the most of your condition. You wanted him to come see you.”
“He should be here. I’m dying.”
“We all are, little by little,” Maya said. “If this were your last breath, would you want to go when you haven’t made peace with your only son yet?”
The old man’s jaw dropped. He stared at her.
“Are you afraid to love and lose him the way you lost his mother?” She could see that her assumption was close to the truth. Tears had begun to glisten in Dan’s rheumy eyes.
“That’s none of your business.”
“You’re right, it isn’t. But what if you miss out because you were too stubborn to give a little, to get to know the fine man your son has become?”
The tears that had been pooling in his eyes began to slide down his cheeks. Moved, Maya stepped closer and took one of his hands. “I don’t pretend to have all the answers. I just know that you’ve been pushing Greg away for a long, long time. Don’t you think it’s time you stopped?”
All Dan said was, “Get out of here. Leave me alone.”
Any conviction that Maya had had that she was on a God-given mission to bring reconciliation abruptly left her. It was obviously time to step back. To stop trying to convince him and to leave before she said too much and ruined all the good she may have done up to that point.
What she wanted to do, in her own strength, was continue to reason with Dan and stay until he finally came to his senses. It didn’t take a genius to realize that that would be the wrong approach. If he was half as stubborn as Greg was, any further discussion would make matters worse, not better.
Disappointed that things had not worked out exactly as she had envisioned, Maya released the old man’s hand and backed toward the door.
She was thankful she’d mustered the courage to visit him and speak her mind. And she was glad she’d been able to find words that had seemed right.
Now, however, all she wanted to do was make a dash for her car and escape from the Garrison estate as fast as possible.
Chapter Thirteen
Greg encountered Maya halfway up the spiral staircase. She wasn’t weeping, as he’d feared, but she didn’t look happy as she tried to sidle past, either.
He reached for her. She shook her head and dodged, then ran the rest of the way down the stairs and burst out the door.
Wondering if he should follow or go find out what his father had said to her this time, Greg decided it would be best if Maya had a little time to cool off before he tried to reason with her. He couldn’t imagine how Dan could have treated her any worse than he already had. Then again, his father had never been known for diplomacy.
When he entered the older man’s suite, however, he was astounded to see that Dan was clearly moved to tears. Surprised, Greg stood there and stared.
“Well, what are you looking at?” his father asked before blowing his nose. “Haven’t you ever seen an allergy attack before?”
“You didn’t take your medicine this morning?”
“Yeah. That’s it. Forgot the pills.”
“What did you say to Maya Logan?”
“Nothing. I just told her to go away. I hope she had the good sense to do it.”
“She did.” Greg gritted his teeth. “We may as well get this out in the open, Dad. I’m not sure if Maya will have me after all the awful things you’ve said to her, but I love her and I’m planning to ask her to marry me.”
“You’re a fool if you do.”
“Am I? Seems to me I remember a story about Grandfather telling Mom the same kind of thing about you. Was that a mistake?”
To his amazement, the older man’s tears resumed. Worried, Greg approached the bed. “Are you all right?”
“No. Yes.” He cursed under his breath. “I don’t know.”
“Are you having difficulty breathing?”
Dan made a sour face and shook his head slowly. “No, son. My breathing is not a whole lot worse now than it was years ago. I just…” He hesitated, swallowed hard. “I just wanted you to come home.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I’m not getting any younger and, as your girlfriend reminded me, I may be meeting my Maker before much longer. I—I wanted to see you again. To get to know the man you’d become since your mother died.”
“You sent me away,” Greg said, puzzled.
“Yes. I did. You reminded me too much of her, I guess. She’d always been closer to you than she was to me.”
“Maybe that was because you berated her for every little thing she did wrong. And even for some things that were right.”
“That was just my nature. Your mother knew that when she married me.”
“And she loved you deeply, in spite of everything,” Greg told him.
That statement was enough to bring quiet sobs from Dan. Greg placed a steadying hand on his father’s thin shoulder and waited until he had regained a bit of composure before asking, “Do you want me to go, or stay with you for a little while?”
“I think I’d just like to be alone and think things over,” Dan said haltingly. “I’ll be fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“As sure as I ever am,” the older man replied. “When you see that Logan girl, tell…tell her I’m sorry.”
Maya
had figured it was best to physically work off some of her excess energy and frustration, so she’d left Layla playing happily in preschool later that afternoon, changed into work clothes and headed for her home on Logan Street. The city had arranged to have extra refuse picked up at the curb until the tornado damage had all been removed, and it was a real relief to finally be able to start straightening up the place.
She pulled on heavy gloves, then started her own pile of branches and broken boards, taking care to keep from stirring up the bits of fiberglass insulation, although most of it had been blown away during the original storm.
Many of her neighbors had already either received their insurance settlements or had proceeded without them. Her house was one of the last waiting for cleanup and rebuilding. It was also one of the only ones badly damaged in that section of the residential district.
As Maya worked she thought about her meeting with Greg’s father. Dan hadn’t instantly become a loving father, as she’d hoped he might, but that kind of change wasn’t within her control. She had merely presented an idea of how he might find the peace that had eluded him for so long. Now, it was up to him.
She paused in her work and removed her work gloves as Greg’s SUV pulled into her driveway.
When he got out and came toward her he looked so serious she was afraid she might actually have caused his father’s condition to worsen, in spite of the nurse’s assurances that Dan wasn’t that ill.
Her pulse pounded in her temples. “Is your father all right?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Greg answered. “Care to tell me what you said to him?”
“Beats me. I was so nervous I can only remember bits and pieces of it. I’m sure I babbled something awful.”
“Well, whatever you said it touched him.” Greg stepped closer and took her hands. “He told me to tell you he’s sorry.”
Healing the Boss’s Heart Page 13