April had never guessed her mother could be so calculating.
Because of this conversation, all the puzzle pieces fell into place for April. Her parents' relationship, her parents' marriage had instilled in her a basic lack of faith in the institution. The idea of marriage was scary to her because she'd built up a different view than what her parents had. A marriage wasn't supposed to be full of lies and looking the other way. It was supposed to be full of love and trust. She'd been confused by the concept, wanting one thing, seeing another. The idea of loving Gabe and trusting Gabe had just seemed too foreign, totally out of her realm of understanding or experience.
And now? Now she felt something with Gabe that was stronger than her doubts. She felt something with Gabe that led her to think she could be his Miss Right. Unlike Vanessa, she knew how to make a promise and stay loyal and faithful. Unlike Vanessa, she believed in vows. Unlike Vanessa, she'd love Gabe forever.
Love Gabe. Her knees felt weak at the thought. Still, she did love him. Because she did, she wanted to protect him. However, protecting him from the truth wasn't protection at all.
She asked her mother. "Are you happy now?"
Winnifred went to the stove, lifted the lid from pot of simmering chicken, and put it back on again. "I like to travel, and I can afford to do that a couple of times a year. And," she paused and cut a sideways glance at April before she stirred the dumpling mixture in the bowl. "And…I'm seeing someone. It's early days yet, but my heart does go pitty-pat whenever I'm with him."
"Pitty-pat?" April asked with a grin.
"You know what I mean."
"Are you going to let me meet him?"
"I want to give it a little more time, to see if it's going anywhere. Do you know what I mean?"
She did know exactly what her mother meant.
Were she and Gabe going anywhere?
Only time would tell.
"Come on," she said, "Let's get these dumplings going or we'll never get supper out."
Winnifred suddenly looked April squarely in the eyes. "You like being here with Gabe and Stephie, don't you?"
She could only tell her mother the truth. "Yes."
Winnifred nodded. "I thought so. But be careful, Honey. These are deep waters you're trying to swim in."
"I know."
Winnifred reached out and gave her a hug. "Maybe you'll have better luck than I did."
But April wasn't sure luck had anything to do with it at all.
****
Later that evening, Gabe walked Winnifred to her rental car parked in his driveway. Never at a loss for something to say, over dinner she'd told him about her life in Florida...the cruise she was going to take next. He'd made comments at the appropriate places.
He opened her car door for her.
She asked, "How would you feel if I moved back here again?"
Remembering conversation over dinner, he responded, "You sound like you're happy in Florida."
"I am, but— It would be nice to watch Stephie grow up."
Winnifred had never seemed to like messy babies. Maybe now that Stephie was growing older, she could relate to her better. She'd certainly seemed to today. She was an odd mix of both Vanessa and April. Like Vanessa, she was always pristinely dressed, her hair in place, her nails manicured. She liked nice things and wasn't ashamed of that fact. However, like April, she had a warmth about her when she spoke of her friends, when she showed she cared about Stephie by sending cards and presents, and today, reading to her in front of the fire. She was a complicated woman, but then, he supposed, what woman wasn't.
He wasn't sure exactly what to say, so he went with something easy. "If you moved back here, I think Stephie would appreciate having you here. The more people in her life who love her, the better."
Winnifred nodded at that and settled in the car's driver seat. Her hand on the seat belt, she said, "Clarice and I will be visiting an old friend in Leesburg tomorrow, but I'll be in touch when I get back." Then she closed the door and started the car.
He waited until she'd backed out of the driveway and headed for Clarice Barlow's.
After Gabe went into the house, he wondered if April was already putting Stephie to bed. But he found them in the living room, and the tableau made him stop and just stand there, studying April and Stephie. They were sitting on the floor in front of the fire. Rather April was sitting. Stephie was laying on the floor, her head in April's lap. April was brushing her hair and Stephie's eyes were closed. Neither of them knew he was there, or sensed he was there.
He didn't make a sound.
He studied Stephie's little face, then he studied April's profile. Aunt and niece were very different. They didn't look alike at all. Stephie still didn't resemble either him or Vanessa, either. He remembered seeing photos in one of the albums of April and Vanessa when they were kids. Stephie didn't look like either of them had in those early pictures. Maybe she was just a conglomeration of them all.
"It looks as if someone is past ready for pajamas and brushing her teeth," he said.
April jumped. His voice had startled her. Apparently she'd been deep in thought as she brushed his daughter's hair. "She had a full day and no nap. Mother used to brush my hair and Vanessa's."
"She didn't leave that to the nanny?"
"No. She always put us to bed herself, at least as often as she could. Sometimes she and Dad would go to parties, and then Cora would attend to us. But she liked reading us stories, too. It brought back memories to see her reading to Stephie tonight."
It seemed April was in an introspective and reflective mood. "Do you and your mother talk about Vanessa?"
"Sometimes we do. Today we didn't. Why?"
"Winnifred asked me what I thought about her moving back here. Did she tell you she was thinking about it?"
"No, she didn't. Matter of fact, she told me she was seeing someone. If she moved back here, I wonder what would happen with that."
"Maybe she's afraid to stay there and find out what could happen." The words were out of his mouth before he thought better of it. He shouldn't have said that.
April's cheeks pinkened. "Maybe that's so."
Five years ago, Gabe's pride had kept him from asking April to stay. What if he convinced her staying was better than leaving? What if he let those old feelings resurface?
"April, I didn't say that because—" He stopped.
"Because that's what I did? I wish we could leave the past in the past, don't you?"
"I doubt if that's possible."
April set down the brush, but she tenderly pushed Stephie's hair away from her forehead.
Before April could take his daughter into her arms to carry her up to bed, something made him ask, "Did you know any of Vanessa's colleagues?"
April blinked at the sudden change of subject. "Her colleagues?" She frowned, and she bit her lower lip. She only did that when she was nervous. What would she be nervous about?
But then she lifted her head and looked at him squarely. "No, I never met any of Vanessa's colleagues. Why?"
Gabe shrugged, not wanting his suspicions about not being Stephie's father tormenting him again. He'd been so overjoyed when Stephie was born that he hadn't questioned her full-term weight when she was born three weeks early. Now he seemed to be questioning everything.
He approached April and Stephie, and sat on the edge of the sofa. "No reason, really. I was just looking through some old pictures. I realized how little I knew about Vanessa's work life. How little I knew about so many things."
"You can only know if the other person's willing to tell you," April said softly.
Now exactly what did that mean? Gabe wondered. Was she trying to say that two people in a relationship had to be totally honorable and totally open? That was asking for the moon.
"Tell me something, Gabe. What are your dreams for the future?"
He could feel his guard going up because he suspected the question was a lead-in to something else. "I don't dream any more. I deal wit
h reality. My main goal is to raise Stephie to be a happy person with strong values."
"So you have dreams for her, but not for yourself?"
"That's about right."
April seemed disappointed at his answer. After a few moments, she put her arms around Stephie and whispered to her, "Come on, little one, time to go to bed."
But Gabe was off the sofa and lifting Stephie into his own arms. "I'll carry her up," he said.
As he mounted the stairs, he realized the one reality he might have to face—the possibility he wasn't Stephie's father. He remembered a conversation between the nurses the night of the accident. They'd been discussing Larry Powell. He'd overheard one say to the other that the man had no relatives to notify. How had they known that? Had Vanessa managed to tell them that before she died? Just how well had she known Larry Powell?
So many questions.
But Gabe wasn't sure he wanted to know the answers.
****
Chapter Seven
April asked Gabe if he wanted to go along to buy Stephie new winter clothes on Saturday, and to her surprise he agreed. Maybe he wanted to go along to make sure she didn't go over budget...or she didn't overspend...or she didn't go overboard. But he bought everything she picked up from the faux fur winter coat in an animal print pattern to the cute little boots with pompoms, from the denim coveralls to the pink blouse with the ruffle around the neck, to the bumblebee Halloween costume for the kids' party at the fire company's social hall next weekend. It was easy to see he wouldn't deny his daughter anything.
Even if she wasn't his daughter?
One of April's major concerns on whether or not she should tell Gabe the truth was Stephie. What would telling him do to his relationship with his daughter? Because she was his daughter in every way that mattered.
Home from their excursion, Gabe parked in the driveway, opened the back door and unhitched Stephie from her car seat while April gathered up some of the packages.
April was helping Stephie out of her jacket in the living room when Gabe said, "I'll take all the bags upstairs. I'm going to change into some old clothes so I can finish the yard work."
April was no sooner in the kitchen with Stephie, finding an apple in the refrigerator to cut up for a snack for her, when the doorbell rang. Knowing Gabe was upstairs, she didn't hesitate to answer it. When she opened it, she found Debra Evans, the single mom from the preschool open house. She was taken aback when she saw April, but then her smile resurfaced. She was carrying a plate of something covered with aluminum foil.
Gabe was coming down the steps by then, and Stephie had run to the door, too.
Since it was obvious this woman was here to see Gabe, April stepped aside. Debra's little girl was beside her and he smiled down at her as he said, "This is a surprise."
The woman frowned. "I left a message on your answering machine. I told you I'd stop by around two with some brownies for a play date and you should call me if there was a problem, otherwise I'd just show up. So here I am."
Gabe looked at April, but she just shook her head. She hadn't checked the machine.
"We were out all morning, so I missed you message." Then politely, he said, "But I'm sure Stephie would like to play with Beverly. Come on in. Brownies are always welcome."
Brownies are always welcome? April thought.
Debra took the cover from the brownies and held them up to Gabe's nose to take a whiff. "Isn't chocolate the best aphrodisiac?"
Gabe didn't seem comfortable with that idea, and he glanced down at the girls. "Stephie, why don't you get out a game for the two of you to play? Or dolls...or something."
"Toy box," Stephie said gleefully, and went to the corner of the living room where it was kept. Debra's little girl followed her.
"How about some coffee to go with this?" Gabe asked amiably, as if the idea of coffee and brownies might be a good thing. "We had an early lunch to go shopping, so I'm sure we're all ready for a snack." He looked to April for confirmation of that fact.
She wasn't confirming anything. She felt like a third wheel. This was no place for her right now. Not with the flirting that was going to go on.
"I'm going to go for a jog," she explained. Then she nodded to the plate. "Maybe I'll have one of those later after I earned it."
Debra looked pleased. Gabe? She wasn't sure if he liked Debra's attention and the idea of a chocolate aphrodisiac or not.
She couldn't tell what Gabe was feeling, so she ran up the stairs to change her clothes. Apparently Gabe's yard work could wait until after brownies and coffee. April knew she was going to go for a very long jog.
****
When April returned down the stairs, Stephie and Beverly were sprawled on the floor in the living room, dolls and their clothes spread around them. She heard the low voices of Gabe and Debra in the kitchen. After a smile for the girls and a wave good-bye, she hurried outside.
Once on the front lawn, April stretched. Five minutes later, she started out at a walk, then a fast walk, then a jog, then a run. She felt as if she wanted to outrun every thought and feeling. This morning, she and Gabe had been buying clothes for Stephie. Innocuous enough, right?
Sure, until their hands brushed when they felt the fabric...until their elbows hit each other when they pulled a coat off a rack...until their gazes met and they remembered kisses from both now and in the past. They'd accomplished their goal—fitting Stephie with a winter wardrobe. Yet under the surface was a constant tension...under the surface was a knowledge they wanted each other...under the surface was the fact that they were both holding back.
April jogged often but she was usually focused, intent on where she was going, completely aware of everything around her and in front of her. Today, however, she was distracted. She felt the leaves under her running shoes. She knew they moved, some of them still slick from another rain earlier in the week. But she'd run on all surfaces. She'd splashed through puddles. She'd even jogged on ice.
The sun was bright today as she ran to the corner. It flashed off of the windshield of a parked car, practically blinding her. However, she didn't slow down. She couldn't. She didn't want to.
That was when it happened.
Her right foot slipped. Her feet felt like they were sliding out from under her, and she fell hard on her left knee. She'd worn her jogging shorts because she'd been in a hurry. Even though she'd grabbed her warm-up jacket, her legs were bare. She was breathing hard from the run, trying to absorb what had happened in the fall, gasping for breath she couldn't seem to find. She closed her eyes and calmed herself, told herself all she had to do was breath. But pain was shooting up her leg, and she felt the brushburns and scrapes below her knee. Finally opening her eyes, she looked at her leg. Dirty and ugly-looking, she knew she was going to have bruises as well as scrapes and brushburns.
Her jog had ended. It might have ended for the next week or so. That depended on if anything else hurt.
She slowly rose to her feet, expecting pain in her knee. It ached a little, but surprisingly, it wasn't bad. Fortunately, for the most part, her leg had taken the brunt of it. It felt as if it was on fire and hurt like the dickens. Since she had jogged about a mile from Gabe's house, this was going to be a long walk home.
****
Gabe had said good-bye to Debra as soon as it was feasible to do so. Fortunately Stephie had given him the perfect out. She and Beverly had squabbled over something and Stephie had begun crying. Without a nap, she'd gotten over-tired. He'd told Debra they'd have to cut the playdate short today.
He'd just come downstairs after settling Stephie in her room, when he saw April limping up the front path to the door. He didn't think twice about rushing to the door and opening it for her.
When he saw her leg, he felt his jaw tighten, but he managed to unclench it. "What happened?"
"What does it look like?" she asked, limping to the chair and holding onto the arm before she sat.
"It looks like you took a pretty bad fall. You've got to get
that cleaned up."
"I just walked a mile after the fall, so give me a minute, okay?"
He was handling this all wrong. He'd always handled April all wrong. Maybe it was because he felt too much when he was around her. Maybe it was because he'd always wondered what they could have had. Maybe it was because he'd committed himself to another woman and hadn't wanted to regret it.
"Did you hurt your knee?"
"I think the knee's okay, maybe just bruised a little."
"I'll be right back," he muttered, going into the kitchen.
He kept an ice bag in the freezer for basketball strains and, once in a while, Stephie's boo-boos. He grabbed that, wrapped it in a towel and poured a glass of orange juice. Then he took both into April. After handing her the orange juice, he gently laid the ice bag on her knee. She sighed and looked up at him with wide brown eyes. "Thank you."
Her voice sounded a little thick and he suspected the pain was getting to her.
"Why didn't you phone me?"
"Because I didn't have my cell phone along."
"That's because you shot out of here like a rabbit with a hunter after it."
"Don't be silly. I just wanted to get out of your way."
At that he shook his head. "You weren't in my way. In fact, if you'd been here, the whole scenario would have been a lot more comfortable."
"I wasn't going to sit here and watch you flirt with her in front of me."
"April." Her name was a scolding warning.
"Tell me she didn't flirt with you, and you didn't flirt back."
"I didn't flirt back." He enunciated each word so she'd get his drift.
"She wants to go out with you."
"Tell me something I don't know. I didn't invite her here today, April. She invited herself. So I don't know why you're angry at me."
"I'm not angry at you."
He hiked up his brows.
She shook her head. "Oh, Gabe, everything between us is always so complicated."
April's Promise (Forever Love Series) Page 8