“You and Dad are the same way. Loyal and dedicated and...”
“So you think before you can deserve love, you have to be perfect?”
“Maybe not perfect. But...better. Better than I am.”
“If you need to be better, then you will be. But, sweetheart, you didn’t turn to music when Megan was sick because you were being selfish, or because you didn’t love her. You turned to music because you loved her so much that losing her almost killed you. Music saved your life. It kept you sane, when watching Megan get sicker was ripping you apart. That’s why we told you not to quit.”
She reached out and covered Jenna’s hand with hers. “I always wondered if you’d ever meet a man with a heart as big as yours. And now that you have, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’re exactly the person Michael and Claire need in their lives.”
Fresh tears ran down her cheeks. “How can you be so sure of that?”
Her mother smiled. “You know I had you and Jake just a year after I married your father? We were still in our early twenties, and the farm was just starting out.”
Jenna nodded.
“We hadn’t planned on having children so soon. We were going to wait three or four years, until we knew the farm was a going concern.”
Jenna smiled a little. “So we were a surprise, huh?”
“Very much so. The truth is, we were both scared out of our minds. Your dad even more than me, I think. We barely earned enough to support ourselves, much less a family. So many times during that first year, we wanted to give up...first me, then him...sometimes both of us at the same time. It put a real strain on our marriage. I actually asked for a divorce, when you and Jake were about six months old.”
Jenna stared at her. “You did?”
“I did. I’ve never seen your father so devastated. That night we talked, really talked, for the first time since the two of you were born. We talked about all the things that scared us...and it turned out that what scared us most was the idea of letting each other down. Of not being what the other needed. Of not being enough.”
Jenna ducked her head, a sudden throb making her chest ache.
Irene gave her hand a squeeze. “Nothing’s ever perfect, sweetheart—because we’re not. All we can do is the best we can. And in spite of what you believe about yourself, that’s all I’ve ever seen you do. And it’s what you’ll always do. You’re a loving, brilliant, incredible woman, and Michael obviously agrees with me. So for heaven’s sake go put the poor man out of his misery.”
***
Her mother made it sound so easy, she thought as she drove down Michael’s street.
Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. It was Saturday, so he’d be home unless he had emergency surgery. Or unless he and Claire had gone out somewhere. Or unless...
His car was in the driveway.
She pulled in behind it and sat for a minute, taking deep breath after deep breath. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest, and she couldn’t seem to make herself calm down.
Finally she got out of the car and walked up to the front door. She felt a little dizzy, and it occurred to her that she hadn’t slept for more than twenty-four hours. Also that she was wearing the same jeans and sweater she’d worn yesterday.
But if Michael rejected her, it wouldn’t be because of that. It would be because, in the last month and a half, he’d come to his senses and realized that he’d rather have her as a friend than...something more.
It was a long walk to his front door. She almost wished for something to stop her—a bolt of lightning or a meteor from above. Ever since she’d left Chicago she’d been thinking of this moment, but now that she was here, all the fears and uncertainties she’d ever felt seemed to be tugging at her, pulling at her, telling her not to say what she’d come here to say.
There was no lightning bolt. No meteor strike. She rang Michael’s front door bell, and waited.
It wasn’t long before he answered. He stood in the doorway, just staring at her, for at least a minute.
“Jenna,” he said finally. “My God, I can’t believe it’s you.”
He reached for her as if he couldn’t help himself, and hugged her tight. She wrapped her arms around him and closed her eyes, pressing her face into his chest. After a minute she felt his lips on her hair. “It’s so good to see you,” she heard him say, his voice a little shaky. “Come inside. Let me get you something. Do you want coffee?” She followed him into the house, and sat down at his kitchen table while he poured her a cup.
He sat down across from her. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“That you wouldn’t want me.”
He stared at her. “You were afraid I wouldn’t want you?” He sat slowly back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers. “What do you mean?”
She took a deep breath. “I’m in love with you, Michael. I love you, and I love Claire, and I can’t imagine my life without the two of you in it. But I thought you might not feel the same way anymore.”
He didn’t say anything for a minute. He just kept staring at her, while her heart thumped painfully in her chest.
After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke. “You thought I might not feel the same way anymore.”
She nodded.
“You really thought that?”
She nodded.
He stood up. “Wait here a second, will you?”
He left the room, and less than a minute later came back with something in his hand. He came to her, and when he dropped to one knee her heart stopped beating. Then he held out a black velvet ring box.
“I got this a month and a half ago, but when I saw you perform I knew I couldn’t ask you to stay. Then I realized it doesn’t have to be like that. I don’t have to hold you back. If you can deal with my crazy hospital schedule, I can deal with you going on tour.” He took a deep breath. “I was planning to fly out to New York to propose. And now, here you are.”
He opened the box, and a square cut ruby winked up at her. “Jenna, I love you. Will you marry me?”
All the air left her lungs. For a minute she thought she might actually pass out.
She managed to pull herself together. “But you—” She ran out of breath and tried again. “As far as you know, I’ll be gone most of the year with the Mollies. That doesn’t bother you?”
“No,” he said. “I’ve thought about this a lot, Jenna. I’ll miss you like hell, and Claire and I might have do some traveling on the weekends to see you, but we’ll make it work. You do whatever you need to do, for your music. The only thing I care about is that when you do come home, you come home to me.”
Her heart swelled. “Well. As it happens, there’s been a slight change of plans. The band came to a mutual agreement at about two o’clock this morning. We’re getting back together, but part time. We’ll tour and record during the summer. I’m planning to teach during the school year—maybe in Des Moines.”
For a minute he just looked at her, and Jenna wondered how she could have believed even for a second that she could live without him.
He slipped the ring out of the box and took her left hand in both of his. “Is that a yes, Jenna? Will you marry me?”
There was a squeak—nothing more. A tiny squeak of excitement. But it was enough to make them aware that Claire was standing in the kitchen doorway, staring at them with enormous eyes and both hands covering her mouth.
“My God, don’t stop now! Keep going, keep going!”
When they looked at each other again, they were both grinning. “Yes,” she said, her voice shaking a little. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Michael slid the ring on her finger while Claire whooped. She ran over to hug Jenna, then her dad, and then Jenna again. Then she backed away, towards the door, talking the whole time. “I’m going to spend the day at Ellie’s. Also the night. You won’t see me until tomorrow. Tomorrow afternoon, in fact. And...I love you guys.�
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Then she was gone, slamming the door behind her.
Michael turned to her with a glint in his eye. “Can you think of a way to pass the time?”
“Well...I could use another lesson in waffle-making.”
“Not what I had in mind,” he told her. He pulled her out of the chair and into his arms, and kissed her until her bones melted.
Then he scooped her up against his chest and carried her towards the stairs.
A minute later they tumbled onto the bed. “I love you,” Michael said when he could finally pull away from her.
“I love you, too. God, I love you so much.”
He laced his fingers through hers and looked down at their joined hands. “Magic,” he said softly.
Like the flow of music, Jenna could feel the harmony and counterpoint between them—the balance of mind and heart, body and soul.
“Magic,” she agreed.
And it was.
About the Author
Abigail Strom started writing stories at the age of seven and has never been able to stop. She lives in New England with her family, who are incredibly supportive of the hours she spends hunched over her computer. You can visit her website at www.abigailstrom.com; find her on Goodreads, Facebook, or Twitter; or email her at [email protected]. She loves to hear from readers.
Also by Abigail Strom
THE MILLIONAIRE’S WISH
WINNING THE RIGHT BROTHER
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Cross My Heart: A Contemporary Romance Novel Page 19