Laura protested. "We haven't cleaned it or aired it out."
Nora intervened. "Give me fifteen minutes."
Laura expected a smug look from Mitch, but didn't get one. He strode over to Mandy and crouched down in front of her. "Maybe this afternoon you could keep your grandfather company. I bet he'd like to look at your new books."
Mitch had bought Mandy a talking book and a puppet to go with it. He's also gifted her with a couple of classics. When he'd presented the gifts to her, his face had lit up as if he was the one receiving a present. Laura had been touched by his thoughtfulness. But he'd brushed her thanks aside, saying he just wanted Mandy to feel at home. Now he was promoting the relationship between grandfather and granddaughter. Laura should be doing that herself.
"Honey, do you want to help us get a room ready for grandpa?" she asked to include her daughter.
Mandy jumped off the sofa and stuck her hand in her mother's. "Okay. Can I show him my puppet?"
Ray boomed, "Sure you can. We'll get to know each other this afternoon when your mom and Mitch go to the store."
Her hand tightened around Laura's. "Mommy, you're not leaving, are you?"
Laura read the unspoken message. Don't leave me alone with him. Laura swallowed, suddenly at a loss.
"I'll go to the store alone if you want to stay with your dad and Mandy," Mitch suggested easily.
Laura didn't know if he was trying to keep her away from the business or if he was being sensitive to Mandy's needs. It didn't matter. Her daughter came first. "That'll work for today." She hugged Mandy. "While Grandpa rests, you and I can explore the treehouse."
"Super!"
When Ray frowned, his heavy brows steepled. "You be careful with her, Laura. The gardener checks it but..."
"I won't let anything happen to her," Laura said firmly, then wished she hadn't been so abrupt. She should be glad he was taking an interest in his granddaughter. She wished she could stop feeling defensive around him.
A few minutes later, Laura helped Nora make up the sofa bed while Mandy fluffed pillows in the bedroom. Nora tucked in the corner of the sheet. "Don't feel bad Ray wants Mitch's help. Man to man he feels more...easy."
"He's pushing me away."
Nora looked as if she wanted to say something.
Laura flipped the sheet under the mattress. "You can be honest with me. I need all the help I can get with Dad."
"He doesn't know how to act with you any more than you know how to act with him. Mitch and Carey are the same way. That's why Carey hasn't been around when Mitch is here."
Laura shook her head ruefully. "I wish life had a road map."
Nora moved to the foot of the bed to fold it away. "Give yourself time. You've only been here a week."
And in that week, Laura already thought of Nora as a friend, the older woman she had lacked in her life. "I only have five more."
"You're a determined young woman. Ray's not as crusty as he makes out to be. You'll find a way."
Nora's words rang in Laura's ears throughout lunch. She could see her dad's fatigue, and conversation was minimal. Mitch had been quiet and keeping his distance the last few days so there was no help from that quarter. By the end of the meal, Laura needed to escape the confines of walls. She invited Mandy to go with her to the treehouse, but her daughter wanted to help Nora make a low calorie dessert for supper first. Ray retired to his room with Mitch so Laura grabbed her coat and headed for the back yard.
The late October wind tossing her hair, the sunlight on her face, gave Laura the sense of freedom she'd left back in Independence. Without conscious thought, she headed for the rose garden and the white marble bench where she and her mother used to sit. Looking into the woods beyond, she remembered the stories of the enchanted forest her mother had woven for her. Beautiful stories with happily-ever-afters and love and hope. Laura could almost hear her mother's voice, the vitality it carried, the crooning love. Why had she died so young? It had been a long time since Laura had asked that question. About her mother. About Doug. The two people who had loved her had left her. Or were they taken away? It didn't matter. They were gone.
Tears spilled from Laura's eyes and ran down her cheeks. Both had given her joy, both had filled her life with love. After her mother died, her father hadn't been easy to love. Unbidden, Laura remembered that night in his study six years ago.
CHAPTER SIX
Laura had come home from school, expecting that Christmas break to be the happiest of her life. Instead, her fiance had told her Ray Applegate had tried to buy him off.
Betrayal stabbing her heart, she'd confronted her father in his study. "Doug says you offered him twenty thousand dollars to get out of my life! Is that true?"
The deafening silence in the oak-paneled room answered more effectively than words. Tears pricked in her eyes. "Daddy, how could you?"
"I won't let you marry him, Laura. He's a bum with no future. A painter...with a ponytail and beard." Ray Applegate rose to his feet and stood behind his massive desk like a sea captain facing a mutinous member of his crew.
All Laura saw was her father trying to destroy her dreams. She moved closer to him, facing him head-on, damning the barriers between them. "Doug's a graphic artist too. They make a good income."
Her father shook his head. "He only wants to marry you to get the family money. Once you're married, he won't work a day. Mark my words."
Why couldn't her father see the obvious? That she loved Doug and he loved her. For years she'd longed for the kind of bond she was experiencing with Doug, for someone to love her so completely. As young as sixteen, she'd wished on the moon for that one person who would love her forever. Why couldn't her father accept what she wanted from life? Why couldn't he accept her and love her?
Her fingernails cut into her palms. She had to convince him she knew what was best for herself. "I love him and he loves me. He proved it when he didn't accept your check."
"He proved nothing of the kind. The boy's just waiting for the bigger chance. He's using you."
Tears rolled down Laura's cheeks. "If Mom were here, she'd understand. She'd like Doug."
Ray's face flushed red. "I won't let you live the same capricious life she did. It killed her."
Laura's hands went out in a pleading gesture. "An icy road killed her. Not her acting. Not her singing. Why can't you let me live my own life like she did?"
"You are not going to make a stupid mistake."
Her chin lifted defiantly. "You can't stop me. I'm twenty. I don't need your consent."
Ray's arms dropped to his sides and he clenched his fists. "You want a partnership with me, don't you?"
He knew she did. She'd wanted to work beside him in the jewelry business since she was four and had held her first diamond in her hand. "Of course, I do. I've been studying the past two years so I can repair jewelry, be an expert on the quality of gems, settings. When my apprenticeship in Philadelphia is finished--"
"You marry that boy and there is no partnership. There will be no job. You can have either a partnership with me, marriage when you're mature enough to handle it, and enough money to put your children through college and leave you set for life, or an uncertain marriage to someone too immature to know what love is."
She couldn't believe her ears or her father's cruelty. "If I marry Doug, you'll disown me?"
"That's right."
She remembered her mother's death and the way her father had closed off his emotions. She remembered him snapping orders rather than making an effort to understand. She remembered his censure when she started to bring home C's instead of A's. She remembered how he'd become more and more strict to try to control her and how she'd defied him even more. She remembered wanting to enter this room to talk to him, but being afraid to do so. She remembered all the trouble she'd caused because she wanted his attention and some proof he loved her, not rules and regulations, but caring and love.
Then she thought about Doug--the affection he wasn't afraid to sho
w, his generosity with his time, his love that had no strings. She didn't want to lose her father. Losing one parent had been difficult enough. But she couldn't give up Doug. She loved him too much. And she desperately wanted the future they'd planned.
"What's your decision, Laura?"
Her father's attitude was unbending. He was giving her no choice. Her anger dissipated and she was left with a hollow happiness because her father wouldn't be part of her life. She said softly, "I'm marrying Doug."
Hoping her father would stop her, she turned toward the door. But he didn't call her back and he didn't follow her. He let her walk out of his study and out of his life.
A sparrow landed on one of the rose bushes and brought Laura back to the present. That scene had played six years ago. What could she do now? How could she prove to her dad she was worthy of his love? That question startled her and brought fresh tears. After all these years, she still felt she had to prove something. The pain in her chest bowed her head.
***
Leaves covered the brick path, muffling Mitch's footsteps. Laura was sitting sideways on the cold bench, her chin almost in her lap. She was lost in thought, unaware of his approach. When she brushed her hand across her cheek, he thought the breeze had tickled her. But then he saw the wet sheen glowing on her face in the yellow sun and he knew she'd been crying.
Like a hand closing around his heart, guilt for all the censorious thoughts he'd had about her overtook him. Then compassion, along with something more potent, surged in his veins. She was so saucy, laughed so easily, seemed so carefree, he'd forgotten she could be disturbed and upset. Sometimes he thought his distrust actually wounded her. Was that possible? If her capacity for happiness was so great, it only made sense so was her capacity for sadness.
His loyalty to Ray made Mitch wary and protective. He'd seen the older man's pain over the years, the lonely holidays when Ray had admitted he wondered where his daughter was and what she'd made of her life. He'd seen Ray's yearning to be connected to her again but also the sense of betrayal because Laura had cut her father out of her life and never cared enough to look back.
But Mitch couldn't help responding to Laura. He liked her laugh. He more than liked her joy. Even if they could find common ground, even if she wasn't calculating to take over her father's business, Mitch wasn't what she needed or wanted. He was nothing like her husband and never could be. Adventure was a risk. Mitch didn't like risks. Spontaneity demanded flexibility. He felt safe with a schedule. Living day by day required an impulsive spirit. He planned for the future and wanted a stable life. Yet when he was near her...
As he stood behind her now, her perfume wafting around his head, her hair glowing like spun gold and exotic stones, her sadness reaching out to him like the moon's pull on the tide, desire roared like an express train racing through a tunnel and made him quake. He wanted her. He wanted her wildness, her free spirit, her joy. He wanted to kiss her, taste her, touch her until she wanted him just as much. And then she'd wrap herself around him and he'd know heaven.
That couldn't happen! Wouldn't happen. Ray was like a father, and Laura and Ray were at odds even if the tension wasn't in the open. And Laura? Mitch still didn't know if she was a threat, a partner, or a woman biding time until she could return to her life in Ohio.
He saw her shoulders shake and he couldn't keep from laying his hand on the back of her hair. Laura went still, then relaxed as his thumb circled her temple. Eons could have passed until she finally looked over her shoulder. Her gray eyes drew him in and surrounded him like a warm velvet blanket.
She was slipping past his defenses. That scared him.
Despite the fear, the sleek track of her tears drew his hand. Tenderly he brushed one wet streak. "What's wrong?"
She cleared her throat but it was still husky. "Indulging in self pity, I guess."
She lowered her head and he suspected tears filled her eyes again. Though he'd only known her a few days, he already realized she wasn't the type to feel sorry for herself. He lifted her chin with his knuckles. "Are you homesick?"
"I do miss Anne and George. But that's not it entirely. Coming back here brings back so many memories and feelings. I...miss my mother. And Doug..." Her voice caught.
His gut knotted and a wave of protective compassion brought a lump to his throat. He didn't want her to hurt, or need. The faint blue shadows under her eyes hadn't been there when she opened her door in Independence. Taking his hand from her face reluctantly, he sat down beside her, his need to be close to her vying with his need for distance.
His thigh rested against hers; the contact seemed necessary and right. "It's tough to lose someone you love."
"You're talking about your dad?"
How could he tell Laura about his father when he'd never told anyone else? But there was so much empathy in her voice, he felt compelled to answer. "Yes. I tried to love him. He was so...erratic. I never felt my love was returned. I felt he resented me for being born. But when he died, a part of me died too." The admission seemed strange on Mitch's lips. He'd never put it into words before.
Laura leaned her shoulder against his. "Children can sense the truth. Adults don't give them enough credit."
Somehow he knew she'd understand, that she wouldn't tell him he'd been wrong and his father had loved him as all fathers should. He also sensed something about her childhood bothered her and it had nothing to do with her mother's death. "Who didn't give you enough credit?"
"Dad." When Mitch didn't react adversely, she continued. "My mother was a singer and actress. She loved music and people and trying every new food or amusement ride she could find. Dad loved that part of her, but he also resented it. I think he looked on her as an exuberant child he had to channel. Sometimes she wouldn't let him do it, and he'd get angry. He'd watch her when she was with a group of friends as if they'd spirit her away from him. He never wanted her to try out for plays too far away."
"He was afraid he'd lose her."
Laura lifted her hands in agitation. "She loved him. Anyone could see it. She didn't have her eyes set on New York, she just wanted to experience life."
Her daughter had inherited that trait. "You were young. Could you know that for sure?"
Laura let the question linger before answering. "I wasn't too young to know she loved me and Dad. What was he afraid of?"
Somehow Mitch knew. "Of not being enough."
Laura's eyes widened. "I've never thought of Dad as...insecure."
"No man's secure around the woman he loves."
She shifted on the bench, her knee bumping his as she faced him more squarely. "Love should make you secure. Nothing's safer than knowing someone loves you for who and what you are."
Mitch felt his whole body tighten. "You and your husband were like that?"
"We started out that way."
Mitch didn't see how he could ever shed his mask completely. He hid his feelings. In the past when he'd shown them to his dad or "friends", they'd been belittled. Men shouldn't feel sad, or scared, or lonely. God forbid they should cry. His father had slapped him once for that. Men were ambitious, successful, stoic and logical. Weren't they?
Before he could find the answer, Laura's next question distracted him from trying. "Have you ever been in love?"
Their gazes caught and he knew he'd never been in love the way she meant. Not heart, body, mind and soul. Why did this woman reach his deepest places and encourage responses he'd kept secret even to himself?
"I've thought myself in love. Two years ago I almost asked a woman to marry me."
"Almost?"
Her expectant gaze urged him to continue. "At the time I figured my hesitation concerned making a name for myself, insuring a good income for the future."
"You were going to ask her after you'd done that?"
"I told myself I was. I'd become Ray's partner and was getting ready for my first exhibition."
The breeze picked up the ends of her hair and blew them across her cheek. "What happ
ened?"
He almost smiled. Laura wouldn't think of not asking the sticky questions. "She earned her masters in chemistry and decided to get a Ph.D. She accepted an assistantship at Stanford."
"Her career was more important than you?" Laura seemed concerned and puzzled too.
"I don't think Denise compared the two. We both realized we were together for convenience rather than love. We didn't talk of her not going or looking for someplace closer."
Laura tilted her head until the sun created a halo on the crown. "Or you moving out to California to make a name?"
"Ray and the business meant too much to me at that point." He'd finally found his niche, respect, and a bond with the father figure he'd never had. No, he wouldn't have left. It had nothing to do with being a male or a chauvinist. It had to do with finally finding where he belonged. Laura had left all of her sense of belonging to go with her husband. He couldn't understand that. But if they got into that subject, they'd argue. He didn't feel like arguing. He would like to know more about her marriage, though. It sounded as if it might not have been ideal after all. But right now he was simply enjoying sitting beside her and the connection between them.
They sat in silence for a while. Laura finally broke it. "My dad doesn't need me here."
"What makes you say that?"
"He has you. And now Nora. He's not looking to me for anything."
"You're wrong." He couldn't prove it, but he knew she was.
"You saw him this morning, Mitch."
Laura looked down at her hands and he knew she was hurting. He also knew why. Ray turned to him out of habit. "I've been here the last four years." He said it as a fact, not to make her feel guilty.
Her voice quivered. "I'm a grown woman and I still have this longing to earn his approval."
He was so tempted to put his arms around her. But he didn't. Instead he shared a secret. "I do too."
Her head came up and they stared at each other, knowing a bond had formed between them.
Before they could explore it, Mandy came running down the center of the yard, yelling, "Mommy, Mommy. I want to see the treehouse now."
Wish On The Moon Page 9