A Husband In Her Eyes

by Karen Rose Smith

  “It’s not hanging quite right.” She looked over his shoulder at his father. “Hi, Ted.”

  Ted looked around at the striped teal draperies and camel leather chairs, noticed the warm hues of the parquet flooring and the rich mahogany furniture, from the credenza to the computer desk. “You’ve done a wonderful job with this building, Melanie. It was a big project to get done in a short amount of time. All of it looks great.”

  A simmering anger came to the surface in Zack, not because his father was praising Melanie’s accomplishments. She’d done a stupendous job with the offices. But just once Zack wished his father could realize that his son had accomplished something, too.

  Melanie’s gaze locked on Zack’s. “Did you show your dad the sculpture downstairs?”

  “We didn’t tour the lobby yet,” Zack said gruffly.

  Ted glanced from one of them to the other. “Why don’t you help her with whatever’s wrong with those drapes, and I’ll go take a look around myself. Can I get out through the lobby?”

  “Yes, you can,” she answered him. “There’s a guard on duty down there now.”

  “I’ll introduce myself. Then he’ll know who I am and won’t give me any hassles when I want to come up.”

  Melanie was about to step off the ladder when Zack went over to her and held her elbow, making sure she kept her balance. They hadn’t touched since Saturday night when they’d almost—The remembered pleasure made his body tighten. They hadn’t even had a decent conversation. But now wasn’t the time to ask her what that scene with Wilson had been all about.

  “Wait a minute, Pop,” he tossed over his shoulder. To Melanie he said, “If you need help with anything else like this, have one of the workmen help you, or call me. I don’t want you falling off the ladder.”

  Then he turned back to his father. “I’ll walk you down and introduce you to the guard myself.”

  After he escorted his dad to the stairway, they started down the inside steps.

  “Are you getting anywhere with her?” Ted asked Zack as soon as the fire door closed behind them.

  Zack tried to keep his temper in check. “Just what do you mean by ‘getting anywhere’?”

  “Have you asked her to stay past when her job’s done?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because you like her…because she’s just the kind of woman you need,” Ted answered with a wave of his hand that said Zack should realize the obvious.

  “How do you know what kind of woman I need? You think every man needs someone like Mom. Women aren’t like that anymore.” Attempting to close the discussion, Zack started down the stairs.

  Ted caught his arm. “If you can’t see that Melanie is like your mother, then you’re blind, boy.”

  After a few heavy, silent moments, Zack pulled away, and they descended the rest of the stairs.

  When they entered the lobby, its sense of executive luxuriance overtook Zack once more. The imported Mexican tile floor was instantly welcoming in a professional way. The swirled plaster walls with the palest tint of sky blue rose into the vaulted ceiling where daylight streamed in through a skylight. A bronze plaque had gone up inside the glass doors as a directory to the departments. Seating areas in camel leather and oak made waiting seem a pleasure while potted palms added year-round freshness. On an oak dais in the center of the lobby stood the sculpture Zack had chosen.

  After looking around at everything else, Ted went to it, then whistled through his teeth. “Isn’t that something? And just right for in here. Melanie sure does have good taste.”

  “I chose it,” Zack said evenly. “And you know, Pop, Melanie did do an excellent job. But just once it would be nice to hear that I did, too…that these headquarters are a symbol of what I’ve accomplished and maybe how proud you are of that.”

  Ted looked astonished. “I’ve always been proud of everything you do. I didn’t think I had to say it.”

  Zack searched his dad’s face for the truth. “I’ve never known you were proud of what I’ve accomplished. I’ve always had the feeling I can’t please you. You wanted me to go to college instead of business school. You wanted me to be a banker, not fool around with sports equipment. How am I supposed to know what you think about me and what I do?”

  “You never want to talk about anything you do,” Ted insisted. “You act as though I don’t understand it. I understand a lot more than you think. I understand that you’ve never forgiven me because I took your mom to the hospital and you never saw her again. I understand that you think I did it on purpose. I understand that you were ashamed of me because I didn’t wear a suit or drive one of those fancy cars like some of your friends’ fathers did.”

  “I’ve never been ashamed of you, Pop!”

  “Never?”

  Zack tried to be honest and realized that he and his dad had never really talked after his mother died, had never really shared anything. But they couldn’t get into all of that now. Not here. He strove to make the conversation less serious. “There is that one time you came to my Halloween party as a scarecrow. You looked pitiful.”

  Ted’s head shot up, and then he realized Zack was kidding. “That’s the only time?”

  “Look, Pop. I don’t know why you walk around with frayed shirt cuffs and holes in your sleeves. But if that’s the way you want to live, and that’s what makes you happy, that’s fine with me.”

  Heavy silence became a wall between them until Ted asked, “And what about your mother?”

  Maybe they couldn’t postpone this discussion any longer…maybe they’d postponed it too long already. Searching his heart, Zack knew he’d never hated his dad. He’d been angry. But what good had that anger done him except driven a wedge between him and the person who missed his mother as much as he did?

  “I don’t hate you,” he said hoarsely. “I felt you did keep me from Mom on purpose, that you wanted those last few minutes with her rather than share her with me,” he admitted honestly. “I’ve been angry about it for so long I don’t know what it’s like not to be angry.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Ted denied vehemently. “Everything happened so fast, Zack. Lord almighty, I never expected it to happen that fast. If I had known, I would have pulled you out of school. Honest to goodness, I would have.”

  Zack felt his throat tighten, and his heart ached for all the time that he and his dad had seemed to be at odds. They weren’t really. They were from two generations. Yet that didn’t mean they couldn’t have a meeting of the minds now and then…or remember together.

  Ted awkwardly cleared his throat, not knowing how to go on with this kind of conversation, since they’d never attempted to share pent-up feelings before. He motioned to the sculpture. “So you picked this out, huh? You’ve got taste.”

  “Melanie introduced the artist’s work to me. She’s got taste, too. And you were right. She is like Mom in lots of ways.” He knew they were both thinking and very different from Sherry.

  But he didn’t want to get into that, too. Thinking about the conversation he and his dad had had earlier in his office, he made a decision. “Since I haven’t bought Amy her Christmas presents yet, and since you don’t know what to get her, why don’t we go shopping together later this week? Then maybe we can stop in one of those sports bars for a beer.”

  Ted looked as if Zack had just handed him all his Christmas presents in one fell swoop. “I’d like that. I’d like it a lot.” His voice had grown a bit husky and he cleared his throat again. “Well, I’d better let you get back to work. You want to call me on what night suits you best?”

  “I’ll do that.”

  When Ted exited the glass lobby doors, Zack realized he’d never introduced him to the guard. Ted gave a last wave goodbye as he left the building. Zack knew there would be plenty more opportunities to do it because he and his dad had finally seemed to find some common ground.

  It was almost five o’clock as Melanie made a check of the second-third-and fourth-floor window treatm
ents. All of them were perfect, exactly what she’d ordered. Yet she felt an odd restlessness that had been with her all day. Instead of taking the private elevator up to the penthouse, she walked down four flights of steps, went into the lobby and stood looking at the statue. She still hadn’t gone into Santa Rosa to buy herself a heavier jacket. Actually she needed a ski outfit to take along to Winter Haven. But just the thought of setting foot in the stores with the bright twinkling multicolored lights, the tinsel garlands and wreaths made her dismiss the idea until it was absolutely necessary. She’d been thinking about Phil and Kaitlyn all day. Tomorrow was the eighteenth of December. It was a day she’d rather skip, a day that would bring pain with every tick of the clock’s hand.

  You can get through it, she told herself as she gazed at the sculpture Vincente Largo had created. She would spend tomorrow checking inventory lists, rearranging furniture, making sure nothing was missing and everything was in its place. There’d be more delivery men coming, and she could start early and work very late.

  Needing to take a few deep, calming breaths to stay emotions that were on the verge of going on a rampage, she waved to the guard. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Harry.”

  “Sure will, Miss Carlotti. You have a good evening.” Harry was in his fifties and had retired from the Santa Rosa police force two years ago. At his wife’s urging he’d gone into private security work because life was too short to take any more risks. He was pleasant and friendly and guarded Zack’s headquarters as if they were Fort Knox.

  Thinking about Harry relieved some of her tension as Melanie went outside and looked up at the sky. The stars were as white as ice and the moon was a golden crescent. A breeze swept by her, though, and she shivered in her light coat. Usually she couldn’t wait to get upstairs to see Amy, help Flo get dinner on the table and wait for Zack. But tonight…

  Tonight she was too full of memories, too ready to wallow in self-pity that wouldn’t do her any good, too close to giving in to grief she thought she’d put behind her. As she walked around to the penthouse’s outside entrance, she knew she was being a coward. It was time to go upstairs, look at Jordan’s plaque and put everything in perspective.

  Still, perspective didn’t come easily on a night like this.

  Instead of buzzing Flo, she used the key Zack had given her to open the outside entrance and let herself into the hallway. When the door locked behind her, she had the eerie feeling she wouldn’t be able to escape from everything that had happened in the past or the reason why she’d come here. She stepped into the elevator and, as it rose to the penthouse, she thought about the upcoming holiday and the ski trip, as well as the grand opening of Zack’s headquarters.

  Then what?

  When she let herself into the penthouse, she smelled the wonderful aromas of vanilla and cookie dough. In the kitchen, she saw Flo frosting cookies with colored icing and Amy sitting in her high chair nibbling on a star with red sparkles.

  Melanie’s heart ached so badly she could hardly catch her breath. She’d decorated this same kind of cookie with Kaitlyn. She remembered blue and pink and yellow icing all over her daughter’s face, on her fingers, in her hair. Tears pricked in Melanie’s eyes and she fought to blink them away.

  Attempting a lightness she didn’t feel, she shrugged out of her coat. “That’s some supper you have there.”

  Amy grinned at her. “Cookie.”

  Flo laughed. “Don’t you believe her. That cookie is her dessert. Zack told me he wouldn’t be here for supper—he had to run some errands. I fed Amy early so I could get started on these. There’s barbecued beef in the Crock-Pot and salad in the refrigerator.”

  “I had a late lunch,” Melanie said quickly, needing to get away from the aromas and Flo’s smile and Amy’s sweetness. “I’ll get something la—”

  There was a ruckus in the foyer, a rustle, a thump, and then Zack called, “Come here, everyone. See what I’ve got.”

  By the time Flo scooped Amy from her high chair and followed Melanie into the hall, Zack had moved into the living room. When Melanie stepped into the archway, she saw him in the corner by the sofa, proudly motioning to an eight-foot-high and very full Christmas tree.

  “What do you think?” he asked as the smell of pine filled the air.

  Every picture of Christmas that Melanie had stored in her memory seemed to explode in her mind. She saw the first Christmas tree she and Phil had decorated together, followed by images of Kaitlyn as a baby staring mesmerized at colored lights on the tree. The bare fir in Zack’s living room became an evergreen adorned with old-fashioned, large frosted-ball lights that had decorated Phil’s parents’ tree when they were alive. He’d insisted they were safe. He’d insisted they’d only light them for an hour at a time. The night of the fire, he’d gone to bed early and left them plugged in.

  She’d lost her child because of those lights. She’d lost everything…

  That night two years ago filled her head and made her heart race. She didn’t hear or see Zack approach because she was miles, and two Christmases ago, away. She’d been sipping eggnog when a passerby had alerted everyone at Barbara’s party that smoke was seeping out under the eaves of Melanie’s house. At first she couldn’t believe it. Then she’d heard a distant siren. Panicked, she’d run from Barbara’s house to her own. Desperate to get to her daughter, she’d opened the door. The night had burst into smoke…and flame…and shattered glass.

  “Melanie, what’s wrong?” Zack was standing at her elbow, his expression worried.

  She was shaking all over and couldn’t stop it. She was barely aware of him saying to Flo, “Take Amy back to the kitchen.” Then he was tugging Melanie toward the sofa where she almost fell because her knees were so weak.

  He lowered himself beside her, his arm around her, holding her close. “Tell me, Melanie. Tell me what’s happening to you.”

  Covering her face with her hands, she shook and let the tears come, more tears than she’d cried in months and months and months. As the tears flowed, her trembling became less violent, the memories less vivid, though the aching in her heart was sharp and deep and as alive as it had been after she had awakened in the hospital, her eyes patched, her family gone.

  Still Zack held her, his strength leading her back to the here and now…her love for him bringing her to her moment of truth. She had to tell him about everything. She had to do it now.

  Finally she wiped the tears from her face and turned to look at him.

  “Tell me what happened to you,” Zack demanded gently.

  Closing her eyes, she took a bolstering breath. “I…I had a daughter. She was four and—” Melanie’s voice caught. “Her name was Kaitlyn. She was the most beautiful little girl—blond hair, blue eyes, perfect in every way. Like Amy.” She swallowed hard, knowing she had to do this, yet dreading the telling, dreading Zack’s response. “My husband, Phil…” She cleared her throat. “He was a lovable man, but he was often irresponsible. I didn’t trust him with Kaitlyn completely. He didn’t watch her closely enough. He spent money like water so I took charge of the finances. But we loved each other and our marriage worked. Still, I often felt I had two children rather than one.”

  “What happened the night of the fire?” Zack asked, prodding her.

  Melanie’s gaze collided with his. “You know?”

  “I overheard your conversation with Tom Kellison. You wouldn’t tell me anything about what had happened to you, so the next day I went to the newspaper archives in Santa Rosa. I found the article about the fire.”

  Her voice was a hoarse whisper. “You didn’t say anything.”

  “I wanted you to tell me yourself. I wanted you to trust me enough to confide in me.”

  Now she was confiding in him. But he didn’t realize how much he was a part of all of it, too. “When I saw the Christmas tree you brought in, everything came flooding back because…our tree lights caused the fire. Our neighbor had a party around four. It was going to stretch long into the evening. Phil
was a systems manager and he’d been on call the night before. He hadn’t gotten home until around nine in the morning, but he’d stayed up to play with Kaitlyn—so we could all spend the day together. I wasn’t going to go to the party,” she remembered, her voice low. “But Barbara was a good friend. Phil encouraged me to go, saying he’d put Kaitlyn to bed early and he’d go to bed, too.”

  “He left on the Christmas tree lights?” Zack asked.

  Melanie’s lower lip trembled. “The lights were older ones—like frosted balls. I warned him they gave off too much heat, but he said we’d watch them, we wouldn’t leave them on for long periods of time unless we were in the room. But he must have forgotten to unplug them.”

  Zack’s arm was still around her, and she wished he would keep it there forever. “Someone walking down the street saw smoke seeping out under the eaves of our house. They had a cell phone and called 911, then came to Barbara’s to alert us since our house was next door to hers. I didn’t stop to think about anything but getting to Kaitlyn. I ran over there and pulled open the door…There was an explosion.”

  “Backdraft,” Zack said. “Oxygen feeding the fire.”

  Melanie nodded, seeing the smoke again, reliving the panic, the moment she pulled open the door… “The windows shattered and I was knocked off the porch. I was unconscious until I woke up in the hospital and found out—” She stopped now to take a deep breath because Sherry Morgan’s part of the story started here. “My eyes were bandaged. The shattered glass had damaged the corneas and if I was ever going to see again, I needed corneal transplants in both eyes.”

  “Oh, my God, Melanie.” He took her face between his hands. “What an unbelievable amount of loss. How did you survive it?”

  His hands on her face were comforting…so welcome. “I prayed and relied on faith I’d had since I was a child. Jordan was my ophthalmologist and he was very supportive.”

  Zack’s fingers brushed lightly down her cheeks as he leaned away then, studying her. “Obviously the transplant procedure was a success.”