by Melissa Beck
"And five years of lonely."
"I have Amy now. I'm happy."
"She'll have her own friends and her own life one day. So will BJ. Who'll be around for us to nurture once they grow up and we're empty nesters?"
"We'll have each other."
"No offense, but I'd like a man, too.” Crystal reached out and gave Gretchen a quick hug. “You're great, and you deserve someone great. Just, promise me you'll be objective about Daniel."
"I can't afford to be objective about him or anyone else with the potential of using Amy's life like a revolving door."
"I understand. Just, don't run him off before you're sure."
Gretchen caught hold of her arm as they rose from the bench. “Don't tell anyone about this. And don't treat Daniel differently. Act like he's just a guy I know."
"Have no fear, the actress is here. Don't you remember my flawless performance in Annie Get Your Gun?"
"Our ninth grade play? All I remember is that hot kiss you planted on Bobby."
A bittersweet smile curved Crystal's red-tinted lips. “Ah, young love."
"And now you're just old and decrepit."
"Hey.” Crystal swung BJ's backpack at Gretchen, who grabbed up Amy's and ran off, laughing.
When they reached their cars, Gretchen went, “Oh! I knew I had something else to tell you. On the way to school this morning, Amy told me she'd invited Daniel to the musical tomorrow night."
"So now he and Joel are both going with you?” Crystal's brows arched. “Sheesh! I can't even get one, and you've got two you don't want.” She checked her orange bangle watch. “I wanna hear more, but Bobby's supposed to be at my house right now.” Turning, she yelled, “Come on, Beej. Daddy's coming by the house to take you out for pizza."
BJ's freckled face lit. “Yea!” he whooped, racing over.
Watching him, Gretchen realized Amy was missing out on something her father could give her. Daniel cared. In this short time, she'd already seen it. She knew it, but Amy didn't know it was her father caring about her. And for the first time, instead of being frightened by the thought, she felt ... oh, who knew what she felt?
Confused, that's what.
* * * *
Daniel waited for Wally in the diner, in the same spot where he always sat. Crystal had deemed it his booth, since she now considered him a regular.
He flicked a few crumbs off the table and lined up the salt and pepper shakers, his mind on Gretchen's soft lips, and the restrained urgency he'd felt in yesterday's kiss. She was a passionate woman. Cautious, but passionate. The thought hardened his body as he considered how far that passion might have taken them.
He drummed his fingers on the wooden tabletop. What could be taking Wally so long to get here?
Minutes later, the bells on the door jangled, and Wally ambled inside.
When he'd settled in the booth, Daniel opened an email attachment on his notebook and turned the computer toward Wally. “Here's my marketing plan. First we print fliers with pictures of you standing in the town square.” He pointed at the monitor, at the artwork file he'd had sent from his creative department. “The copy'll read like a travel brochure, beckoning your funeral director customers to the wholesome goodness of Marydale."
A “V"-shaped wrinkle formed between Wally's brows as he scrutinized the flier proof.
"In the direct mail video tie-in, you stand in front of the town square. The camera pans around, picking up on flowerbeds, storefronts, people strolling the sidewalk.” Daniel waved his hands to demonstrate the flow of action. “Then your dialogue goes something like, ‘Welcome to Marydale. I've lived and worked here my whole life. Now I'm offering your clients a touch of hometown comfort in the afterlife with my line of locally made caskets. While each casket is carefully sanded, stained and polished, the sun shines here in Marydale. The birds sing. Won't you feel comfortable knowing your clients take a little of that with them into the afterlife'?” He folded his arms and waited.
Wally's eyes glazed over. “How much did I agree to pay you for this?"
"You don't like it?"
"I hate it. How can you like it?” Wally scowled at the flier and copy.
Crystal breezed by then, with a soda for Wally and more coffee for Daniel. “Doin’ okay, fellas?"
They nodded, but didn't look her way.
She stood there until Wally stopped in mid-sentence, and they both looked up. Then she blew them kisses and waltzed away.
They looked at each other. Daniel lifted a brow, and Wally turned red.
Daniel sat forward again. “Nothing is written in stone. Tell me your ideas."
"Hey, I'm not the ad man here. I just know you didn't put your heart in it.” He stared at Daniel a moment. “Do you even like Marydale?"
"Sure. But I'm not sure I see the point in such an old-fashioned place."
The door's strap of bells jingled again.
Daniel looked up as Gretchen came toward them. His gaze traced her straight shoulders, followed the curve of her hips and stroked down her long legs. Remembering how well she'd fit against him when they kissed, he swallowed back a surge of desire.
Wally cocked his head at him, before glancing over his shoulder to see who'd distracted Daniel.
"Mind if I join you?” Gretchen asked, coming up to their table.
Daniel waved a hand toward Wally's side of the booth. “Please."
Wally scooted over. “You've arrived just in time to explain to this skeptic, here, what's so special about Marydale."
Her gaze flicked to Daniel's. “Hmm.” She tapped her finger on her lower lip. “I think Marydale's special because of the people."
Daniel stared at her mouth. “There are special people everywhere. What makes you people different?"
"The way we care. The way we protect each other. Our level of trust."
"So, you're willing to trust them."
She frowned slightly. “Wally knows what I mean. It's where you feel safe."
"Maybe because some people refuse to feel safe in other places.” Daniel propped an elbow on the table, leaned his cheek against his knuckles and studied her expression.
Her mouth tightened.
Wally's cell phone rang, and he pulled it out of his jacket pocket. “Gotta take this,” he said, motioning for Gretchen to let him out of the booth.
As he headed outside for privacy, Gretchen turned back to Daniel. “I should get back to the store,” she said in a clipped tone.
"Something wrong?"
After a glance about the room, she slid back down in the booth. “What was with that undertone?"
He rubbed his forehead. “Hell, I don't know, Gretchen. Maybe it's about what you said yesterday, about not making the same mistake with me. I guess I've still got a chip on my shoulder from that ‘mistake,’ if you must call us that, five years ago."
The challenge in her eyes faltered. “I thought we'd moved beyond our issues for Amy's sake."
"I can't. The more time I spend with her, the more those four years I missed bug me.” And the more moments he spent with Gretchen, the more he wished she hadn't cut their time together short. If she discovered his attraction to her now, she might “run away” again by shutting him out.
His own raw feelings that had surfaced after they kissed had him admitting, “I looked for you after you left, back then."
"You did?” Her gaze intensified on his, before she seemed to come to a decision. “Because I didn't really leave right away. I decided I should tell you about the pregnancy for Amy's sake, so I went to find you at Cinna Bar."
"You couldn't have. I went there every night for weeks, and I never saw you.” He'd spent hours watching that damned doorway. The memory stabbed at his chest.
"I was there one night. You didn't see me because you were busy."
"Doing what?"
"Kissing another woman."
He frowned. “What woman?
"It doesn't matter anymore."
He stared hard at her. “It was probabl
y an old friend. I can't remember. What I do know is, you and I weren't over, as far as I was concerned. Yes, I did see other women after a while, when I had to accept that what you said in your letter was true and you were done with us. But I sure as hell didn't accept that overnight."
She glanced out the window. “I did what I felt was best."
"And walked out on me without telling me what was going on. Why would you do that, when you knew from firsthand experience how it felt?"
"That's just it.” She looked down at her hands, folded on the table. When she looked up, her eyes shone with emotion. “I remembered being walked out on like I remembered my name. When I saw you with that woman, I figured you were already ninety percent of the way out my door. Maybe I made a snap judgment. And maybe it didn't help that we hardly knew each other."
He scowled. “That's a very roundabout apology, but I'll take it. Consider the subject dropped."
"No.” She swallowed. “I'll admit it. I wasn't just protecting Amy. I was protecting myself, too. I could've phoned you at some point. But as time passed, it seemed less, necessary."
He nodded, his mouth tight with regret.
Wally returned, and as soon as he reclaimed his seat, Daniel picked back up with his marketing plan. “As far as promoting the casket company goes, I'm thinking we need to have this place sell caskets the way Lynchburg sells Jack Daniels, or Louisville sells bats. In other words, we need a sales catch."
Wally and Gretchen looked at each other. Both turned at the same time and said, “What about the caves?"
Daniel cocked his head at Wally. “What caves?"
"Like Mammoth, in Kentucky. We've got ‘em here, only smaller. There's rare fish in there that a scientist discovered a few years back. He was gonna publish a report on ‘em in some journal. But he drowned in one of the cave pools.” His mouth twisted at the memory, before he brightened. “I donated a coffin to his family. Felt bad about it happening here and all."
A macabre story, thought Daniel. Still, that sort of stuff sold. These caves were their special something, their Marydale pull. He could feel his adrenaline level spiking as he thought how he could use it.
Wally said, “We have a cave museum, you know."
"You have a museum, too? Where's that?"
"In a room in my building. The casket company sponsors it."
"Wally,” Daniel growled, “why didn't you mention any of this?"
Wally looked at him as if he'd just said the dumbest thing in the world. “You didn't ask."
* * * *
"I found out about these caves, Sam,” Daniel blurted into his cell phone. “And you know my client, the casket maker you sent the flier proof for? His company runs the museum for them. I think we can use these caves! They have rare fish in their pools, and there's a bizarre tale about a scientist who drowned there when he was—"
"What the hell are you talking about?” his brother snapped. “First it was caskets, and now you're talking about selling the whole town. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I feel better than I have in a while. You wouldn't understand unless you were here.” Daniel swept a palm across the top of the table. “I have my own booth now. It's prime real estate in the café, being by the window."
"Are you talking about a—a restaurant booth?"
"No. It's more like an old-fashioned diner."
"I'll have your doctor call you.” Sam's voice took on a sense of urgency. “Maybe he can overnight you a mood stabilizer."
"I knew you wouldn't understand."
"Well, excuse me for under-reacting to your diner booth. It's probably because I was just at your ad agency, talking with your accountant about the discrepancies between your income and expenses."
Daniel rubbed his eyes. “How bad is it?"
"I'm recommending you lay off your most recent hires."
He swore. People could lose their livelihoods because of his mismanagement. “When?"
"I'll do it first thing tomorrow if you give me the go-ahead."
Neither of them spoke for a moment. The cell line crackled between them.
After sighing hard, Daniel said, “Do it."
"Toyco is back in talks with Chroma,” Sam said then. “They've asked for other specs. Toyco's new top brass, Wickenham, heard you're out of town, chasing a woman.” He waited, before adding, “You're losing the one deal that could save us. Only you can convince Wickenham you're serious. So get back here and do it."
Get back there? Daniel thought of how Gretchen had told him the other day that she was attracted to him. That'd been a good sign. She'd moved away from him after their kiss, though, and for some reason that bothered him. Joel had bothered him, too, with this little relationship he seemed to have going with Gretchen and Amy. He couldn't sort out his thoughts at all lately. Things seemed distorted. All of it cut into his gut, confusing and exhausting him. “I can't leave yet. I need more time."
"Wickenham is out of town, but he'll be back by Friday."
He nodded at the voice on the other end of the line. “I'll get there. And Sam? Thanks for all you're doing in my absence."
* * * *
Gretchen stared into her closet. Why hadn't she thought of what she'd wear to the play before now? She groaned. Jeans, jeans, jeans. T-shirts and sweaters and casual jackets. Skirts too short or too long and all purchased over four years ago, after she'd lost her pregnancy weight gain. Well, there was the one short black one that might do, with the right pair of boots.
Suddenly she had an inspiration. Grabbing Amy by the hand, she hurried out the door. Twenty minutes later she was back, wearing Crystal's new high-heeled boots. They updated the skirt and made her feel sexier. Once she'd pulled a pearl gray sweater on and smoothed it out, she was satisfied that she looked okay. With her hair clipped back, she felt more sophisticated. More the way she'd been in Chicago, before Amy. Daniel saw beautiful women looking their best every day. She wanted him to see her at her best.
"Amy!” she called around applying tinted gloss to her lips. “Time to go."
As they climbed into the car, Amy said, “Are Joel and Daniel gonna meet us there, Mommy?"
"That was the plan. And afterwards we'll see if they want to come over for ice cream."
Crystal's, He looks at you like you're an ice cream sundae, popped back into her head. She nearly choked on the breath mint she'd been sucking as she drove along. Oh, well. Now she knew where the ice cream party idea had come from.
When they pulled into the school parking lot, she saw Joel standing by his truck. But it was when she looked around for Daniel's rented SUV and found it parked under the trees that her heart flip-flopped.
Amy scrambled from the car, ran to Joel and clutched his hand. “Where's Daniel?"
"Here I am.” He strolled down the sidewalk, wearing a white shirt, open at the collar for once, and khakis. His eyes teased as he looked her up and down, before taking in Amy's transformation. “Wow. You two clean up well."
Her face grew warm. “Thanks."
Beside her, Joel murmured, “That's exactly what I was gonna say."
She laughed.
They all walked in together.
During the musical hour, Daniel fidgeted. Being around so many parents and kids made it hard for him to sit still. He could appreciate Gretchen's rapt attention to the music, but frankly, to his ears the group sounded a lot like the Chipmunks. Still, Gretchen's enthusiastic clapping and whistling had him grinning and enjoying himself.
Amy did look good up there on stage. Uncomfortable, but good. He recalled getting nervous in front of groups himself, before a few therapeutic bouts with speech coaches.
Breathe, Amy. He caught himself taking deep breaths for her and letting them out on counts of five.
At intermission, people climbed out of their seats and greeted each other. Gretchen leaned over Joel to say something to Crystal. When she stood to stretch, Daniel rose, too. “Think I'll go get us some sodas at the bake sale tables."
As he passed the
drama room, he ran into children out in the hall talking and horsing around. It was all so surreal, these parents hugging their kids and patting them. His foster parents had never attended anything he was in at school.
Rounding the corner, he caught Amy talking with a sandy-haired boy. She looked over, noticed him and waved.
"Is that your dad?” the boy asked.
Daniel tensed.
Amy glanced his way. “Nope."
"My dad's talking to the teacher. My dad is Mark and he's a fireman.” The boy took up rhythmic arm waving, as if he'd morphed into an airplane. “What's your daddy's job?"
"Don't have one,” Amy mumbled, looking down at her shoes.
Daniel frowned.
"He don't have a job? That's stupid!"
"We're not supposed to say that word.” Amy crossed her arms, covering the pompom eyes of a frog on her dress.
"Well, it is stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Dads have jobs, that's all."
"I don't have a daddy!"
Daniel lurched backward. Wow. Well, at least she said it with confidence.
"My daddy is dead."
Hunh? Dead? I'm standing right here. What lines had Gretchen been feeding her? Sure, she didn't know her father. But the poor kid should at least know one existed.
Then again, was it better to know you had parents who didn't care about you? His had died and he'd known he wasn't abandoned. They couldn't help the car accident. He, on the other hand, simply hadn't been here for his child. It didn't matter that he hadn't known about Amy until now. She would eventually hear of him and think he just didn't care, and blame him for not being here.
"Amy,” he called.
She and the little wiseacre had begun kicking each other's shoes. She stopped, and walked over to stand in front of him.
He squatted on the industrial-grade carpeting. “Amy,” he began, searching her innocent eyes, “I have to tell you something."
She tugged at the strap of her outfit that had slipped off her shoulder in her tussle. He reached out, lifted it and patted it back into place.
"Listen. I'm your—"
She turned to wave to another girl. Shiny curls bounced around her shoulders. The girl said something, and Amy's responding laughter tickled his ears, even as he realized he'd lost her attention.