You Made Me Love You

by Neesa Hart

  “Is she right? Is that Dally guy really going to get Daddy in trouble?” Grace asked.

  Liza tried to decide how to answer her. Children, she knew, were exceptionally perceptive. If she lied, Grace would know. “Things don’t look good.”

  Grace clung to Liza “Why is Dr. Dally doing this?”

  “He’s jealous, I guess. He wants the recognition your father is getting.”

  “But he’s lying,” Grace insisted. “Why can’t people see that he’s lying?”

  “I don’t know.” Liza stroked her hair. “But your father’s going to make people understand that. When they believe him instead of Dr. Dally, then everything will be all right.”

  “What if they don’t?”

  “He knows lots of people who will tell the truth, Grace. He can get them to persuade anyone who’s interested, that Dr. Dally is lying.”

  Grace’s lips quivered as she fought a fresh surge of tears. “It’s not fair, Liza. Daddy didn’t do anything wrong. Why is Dr. Dally lying about him?”

  “Sometimes,” Liza said carefully, “people lie for all kinds of reasons.”

  “If Dr. Dally wins, will I have to go live with my grandparents?”

  “I don’t know,” Liza confessed.

  Grace’s shoulders jerked. “I don’t want to.”

  “I know. Your father doesn’t want you to either.”

  Wiping her nose on her sleeve, Grace tried, valiantly, to stop crying. “She’s mean,” she said softly.

  “Your grandmother?”

  “Yes.”

  Liza squelched the urge to offer a hearty agreement. “I think she wants what she believes is best for you.”

  “Then why doesn’t she want me to stay with my father? I don’t want to live with them. I’ve always wanted to live with my father. Even when . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  Liza thought about the barrage of angry words she’d witnessed that afternoon at the board meeting. Adults could be brutal. “I’m not sure it’s that she doesn’t want you to stay with him, it’s more that she wants you to live with her.”

  Grace shook her head. “That’s not it. She hates him. She doesn’t even think he’s really my father.”

  Liza’s eyes widened. How in the world—“How do you know that?”

  “My mother told her that he wasn’t.”

  Lord, Liza thought, was there no end to Mara’s selfishness. She forced down her anger. “You heard her say that?”

  “Yes. I was in the next room, and she didn’t know it.”

  “When did you hear her say that?”

  “A while ago. Maybe a year before she died.”

  A sudden thought occurred to her. Liza gently tucked Grace’s hair off her tear-streaked face. “Honey, I know you told me that Paul said your father didn’t want you to live with him. Did your mother tell you that, too?”

  Grace hesitated. “Not really.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. Mama said that she and Daddy got divorced because he was really busy all the time, and that we got in his way. He didn’t want either of us living with him anymore because he couldn’t work.”

  “Do you think that’s true?”

  The child shrugged. “Maybe. I used to. But if he did feel that way, he doesn’t anymore.”

  Very wise, Liza thought as she searched her gaze. “No, not anymore.”

  They sat in silence for long seconds. Liza kept her arms wrapped around Grace, who would occasionally hiccup on a latent sob. Grace spoke first. “Liza?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m really scared of what’s going to happen.”

  Me too, Liza thought. “I know, but you don’t have to be. Your father isn’t going to let anyone take you away from him.”

  “What if—” Grace flinched. “What if he has to take that test and he can’t prove he’s my father?”

  Liza didn’t bother to ask how she knew about that. “You have to trust him, Grace. I know it’s hard, but he’s fighting for you—that’s much more important to him than anything Dr. Dally is doing.”

  Grace nodded. Liza continued to stroke her hair in slow, soothing strokes. “Liza?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Do you think he’s scared too?”

  Liza stilled. “Your father?”

  “Yes.”

  She thought about that. Probably, she admitted. He was facing the battle of his life, and he was probably terrified. “I don’t know, Grace.”

  “Everyone is lying to him and about him,” Grace said. “Even my grandmother. She’s telling everyone he’s not my father.”

  “Do you believe he is?” Liza probed gently.

  Grace gave her a startled look. “Of course he is,” she said. “He loves me.”

  How could anyone doubt, Liza wondered as she studied the piquant face and wide dark eyes, that this was his child? She had his heart.

  Something started to break loose in Liza’s heart. She stared into the small face and wondered what her life would have been like if Joshua had lived. Would she have had that kind of faith directed at her? It made her ache inside.

  Grace eased out of her arms. “I wish I could talk to him. I feel better when he talks to me.”

  “I’m sure he’ll call tonight.”

  “I know. It’s not the same.” She sounded forlorn.

  “It’ll be over, soon, Grace. I’m sure it will.”

  “I know,” she said again. This time, she slipped off the couch. “Thanks for talking to me. I’m sorry I skipped rehearsal.”

  “It’s okay.”

  Grace hesitated. “I’m really glad you’re here, Liza. I’d be scared the whole time if I were all by myself.” Grace left the room, and Liza sank back against the sofa cushions while she struggled with her anger at Doris Paschell—and the larger question of whether or not to tell Eli what had happened.

  He’d want to know, but he had enough to deal with without her adding to his load. Besides, she thought with grim certainty, he might strangle his mother-in-law if he found out. For that matter, she’d like to help him.

  The thought made her wonder how he was faring with no one to confide in. Each time he called, she’d noted, he sounded a little more isolated, distracted. He’d shared his frustrations with her, and she’d heard the weariness in his voice, but she sensed that he had withdrawn. He was, once again, the man who attacked a problem with ruthless determination—and to hell with the consequences.

  Like Grace, she found, she didn’t like to think of him facing all those demons alone. Everyone, Grace had said, was lying about him. There had to be times when he felt like he didn’t have a friend in the world. It couldn’t help that as he’d left Breeland, he’d known the board of visitors was divided over his position. Not even here, on the small campus where he’d come to fight for his relationship with his child, did he have unqualified support.

  That realization made her heart ache until she almost doubled over from the physical pain. Once, she’d been alone in her own grief—with no one to help her face the fears or the burdens. It had been the most devastating time of her life—and she’d had no one to turn to. No one told her things would work out. No one promised that she’d survive. No one offered succor or comfort when the fear threatened to overwhelm her.

  And she couldn’t bear to think of him like that.

  She pondered for several minutes the thoughts tumbling through her head—wondered what Anna would say when she told her what she’d decided. Probably, she thought, reaching for the phone, she’d assure her it was about time.

  * * *

  Eli stood, his back to the door, studying the city under the cloak of night. The last time he’d really looked at this view, Liza had been in his bed, sleeping off a long night of lovemaking. Then, he’d felt energized. He remembered thinking that the rush of adrenaline that had driven him from the bed compared to the same feeling he got on the threshold of a new discovery. Then, everything had seemed new, and possible, and promising.

  All he
felt now, was a bone-deep fatigue and the surge of anger and fear in his blood. He’d believed, foolishly, that if he let Liza bring him back to life, if she taught him how to feel again—how to live again—he’d be better for it.

  His lips twisted bitterly. What a fool he’d been. Living, he’d found in the last few days, robbed a man of any vestige of peace.

  “Eli?”

  He tensed and wondered when he’d started to hallucinate. That couldn’t be Liza’s voice.

  “Eli, what are you doing?” The voice was closer.

  He turned, to find Liza and Grace standing in his bedroom. He was without words.

  Grace slipped her hand from Liza’s and started across the wide expanse of gray carpet. “Hi, Daddy. We came to help.”

  She catapulted into his arms. “Hi,” he managed, his gaze seeking Liza’s in the dimly lit room. He pressed a kiss into Grace’s hair. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  Her slender arms were wrapped tightly around his neck. “Liza said you would be. I missed you.”

  “I missed you too.” His voice sounded husky. He held out one arm to Liza. Without hesitation, she stepped into his embrace, and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “I thought you might need us,” she said softly.

  “Daddy,” Grace leaned back so she could study his face. “I got a letter from Grandmother. That’s why we decided to come.”

  He lifted his eyebrows, looked quickly at Liza, then back at his daughter. “Oh?”

  “Yes,” Grace said. “Liza read it.”

  “Did she?”

  Liza eased out of his arms. “Why don’t I go fix us all something to drink while you two talk about it?”

  He studied her, seeking answers. She pressed a light kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Grace will tell you all about it.”

  “Liza—”

  Liza shook her head. “When was the last time you ate?”

  He frowned at that. “I don’t know. I think I had something for lunch.”

  “We can order out,” Grace chimed in. “There’s a pizza place right down the street. Their sauce is great.”

  There had been a time when he’d thought eating one more ordered pizza would probably kill him. Tonight, the blessed normalcy of it all made it seem like the rarest of delicacies. “I would love a pizza,” he assured her.

  Liza smiled at him, and his world began to right itself. “I’ll take care of it,” she promised, and quietly left the room.

  17

  Later that night, Liza laid curled up against Eli on the sofa while Grace slept in her room. His fingers traced a lazy pattern on her shoulder as they listened to the stillness.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said softly. “I’m not naive enough to believe it didn’t require some major planning on your part.”

  Liza smiled against his chest. “Well—there were some rumblings about my taking Grace off campus without your permission.”

  He snorted. “I can imagine.”

  “And Rose wasn’t exactly thrilled that I’d miss a week or so in the office.”

  “I hope—”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she assured him. “Everything is covered. There are other dance teachers who can go over the routines for the recital. Crumb, Lindsay’s as good with the younger kids as I am. And by this time into the term, the office practically runs itself. They won’t even miss me.”

  He squeezed her shoulder. “Liar.”

  “All right, maybe they’ll miss me a little. Still, you needed Grace here, and I wasn’t about to put her on a plane by herself.”

  “I needed both of you,” he assured her. “There have been times over the past few days when I felt like I didn’t have a friend in the world.”

  “What about Martin?”

  That made him laugh. “Martin’s not exactly the overtly demonstrative type. I’m pretty sure he’d never agree to lie on this couch with me and tell me everything’s going to be fine.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said firmly. “As soon as I get my hands on Doris I’m going to wring her neck, but other than that, I think we’re going to be okay.”

  “No paternity test?”

  His grip tightened almost painfully. “No,” he said. “I told her, and her friend the judge, exactly what I thought of that idea. The judge knew if I wasn’t contesting it, there was no way he could justify ordering the test.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered,” he said. “I know what it would have said. Still, I wouldn’t have wanted Grace to find out I’d even agreed to that.”

  “It’s bad enough for her to know her mother doubted it.”

  Eli swore viciously. “Sometimes, I can’t believe—” He took a shuddering breath as he reached for control. “It’s hard to imagine what that woman was thinking. Or Doris, either, for that matter. I can’t believe she sent Grace that letter.”

  Liza twirled her finger on one of his shirt buttons. “She’s hurting, Eli. I’m not excusing her, but it’s not going to do you any good to stay angry at her. She’s lost her only child, and anger is the only thing she has to hold onto right now.”

  “If she hurts my daughter—”

  “I know.” Liza tipped her head to meet his gaze. “She won’t. You won’t let her.”

  “No.”

  She linked her hands so she could rest her chin on her fingers. “What are you going to do?”

  He sighed harshly. “I phoned Martin earlier. He’s going to talk to Doris and Leonard tomorrow and set up a meeting. I’m going to try to reason with them.”

  “And if you can’t?”

  “Then I’m going to threaten them.”

  She laughed. “I’ll take Doris if you’ll take Leonard.”

  For the first time in days, he managed a slight grin. “Deal.”

  They lay in companionable silence for long minutes more, enjoying each other’s presence. Eli felt fatigue winning the battle for his concentration. He tipped her chin up so he could see her face. “I want to take you to bed,” he whispered.

  A smile crept across her lips. “I know, but your ten-year-old daughter is in the next room.”

  “It does sort of dampen the mood.”

  “Probably not the best idea. Besides,” she smoothed a frown from between his eyebrows with her index finger, “you look exhausted.”

  “I’m not that tired.”

  Her finger trailed over his mouth. “Well, I am. I’ve barely slept since you left.”

  He kissed her finger. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve been worried. I feel better now.”

  “Me too,” he told her. “So if we aren’t going to share a bed, why don’t you sleep in my room, and I’ll take the couch.”

  “Don’t be silly.” She flexed her legs. “You’d be really uncomfortable here. It’s too short. Just give me a pillow and a blanket, and I’ll be fine.”

  “I’d feel better if—”

  “Eli.” She sat up. “Didn’t you tell me that in addition to your dealing with the Paschells tomorrow, you also have some work to do at the lab?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then that about settles it, doesn’t it? You’re exhausted. I can see it just looking at you. I think what you really need right now is a good night’s rest—and you aren’t going to get it if you stay on this couch twisted up like a pretzel.”

  He hesitated for a long second, then agreed. On impulse, he wrapped a hand around Liza’s head and brought her mouth to his. “What in the world,” he muttered, seconds before he kissed her, “would I do without you?”

  * * *

  The next two days passed in a whirl of activity. If possible, Eli was even busier than he had been on their last trip to New York. Liza spent most of her time with Grace, and the rest of it she split between trying to facilitate his life and keeping a growing feeling of panic at bay. It felt frighteningly normal, this routine they’d fallen into. She spoke with Anna Daily, and knew from
their brief conversations that the board seemed, at least temporarily, to have tabled their criticism of Eli.

  However, their criticism of Liza, and her decision to join him in New York, was another matter. For her part, Liza categorically refused to entertain the notion that her position was forever altered. Eli asked dozens of questions about her conversations with Anna, but Liza deliberately glossed over what she feared was the reality—for both their sakes.

  At least, she thought one afternoon, the enormous legal and public relations pressures Eli’s team was bringing to bear on Dally seemed to be having an effect. She was watching a report on CNN, and it seemed that Dally’s story was beginning to show signs of inconsistencies. A few more days, she told herself, and this would all be over.

  An unrelenting knocking on the door drew her attention. She checked her watch. At her insistence, Eli and Grace had taken a couple of hours that afternoon to shop for the costume Grace would need for her recital duet with Lindsay. Grace needed the time with him, and God knew, Eli needed the diversion. When she’d learned that he, somehow, had managed an afternoon free, she’d offered him the excuse to spend some much needed time with his daughter. He’d tried to persuade her to accompany them, but Liza was growing increasingly wary of the picture he was painting that included the three of them together in terms longer than a few more weeks.

  The knock sounded again, and she contemplated whether or not to ignore it. Eli’s doorman hadn’t announced anyone. To her knowledge, no one was expected. It must be, she concluded, a neighbor. No one could have entered the building from the street level without buzzing in.

  She headed for the door praying the interested party wanted nothing more than a cup of sugar. She felt fairly certain that Eli wasn’t prepared to handle a group of curious neighbors. At the renewed insistence of the knocking, Liza frowned. This had better be one incredibly important cup of sugar, she thought irritably as she jerked open the door.

  An angry Doris Paschell, flanked by Leonard, and a man Liza knew must be the elusive Martin Wilkins, stood glaring at her. “It’s about time,” Doris snapped. She shoved her way into the apartment. “Where’s Eli? Where’s Grace?”

  Liza ground her teeth. Damn, she should have trusted her instincts. Deliberately ignoring Doris, she held out a hand to Martin. “You must be Martin Wilkins. It’s nice to meet you finally.”