Silence crept around him again and threatened his sanity. “I know you don’t want to talk about it. I know it’s hard. But we have to. I have to. We’ve lived with this for twenty-seven years.” His voice cracked again. Rick shifted and raked his fingers through his hair. A lump rose in his throat. “I didn’t know whether my child was alive or dead and I didn’t have the guts to pick up the phone and ask you. The biggest regret of my life is sitting up there in Maine on your parents’ back porch.”
Eventually she spoke, her eyes softer, but void of real emotion. “I thought I could go through with it,” she whispered. “I couldn’t. But I also knew I couldn’t raise a child alone. I had no money, no support. I wanted her to have two parents who loved her, who could provide for her. I thought if I gave her up, she’d have a chance.”
His gut tightened as he watched her wrestle with the pain of a past he was only now beginning to comprehend.
“I carried her for nine months. I talked to her, felt her grow inside of me, and I promised her a good life. I…even named her.” Michelle gave a thin smile. “Stupid, huh?”
“What did you name her?” Rick’s eyes burned, the effort it took to hold himself together and not break down in front of her almost suffocating.
“Beth. I wanted to call her Beth.”
“Claire’s middle name is Elizabeth.” He choked on the words.
Michelle stared at him for a long time. He wished he could know what was going on inside her head, wished he could read her thoughts. But maybe it was better that he couldn’t.
“I know.”
“You know?” Trepidation skewered him. “How?”
He could almost see the wall coming up around her heart. She set her jaw and narrowed pencil thin brows. “I was curious. Sue me.”
Rick suddenly wished he hadn’t shaved off that beard. Smiles were too hard to hide now. “What else do you know about her?”
She drummed her pen on the desk and lowered her gaze. “Not much. Just what was on the Internet. I know of her family, the Wileys. Her mother was a Dupperault—they own a cosmetics company, very wealthy. She hasn’t wanted for much, apparently.”
“Just answers.”
Michelle shook her head and scratched a hard black line on her notepad. “Why? Is it not enough for her to know that I gave her life? I don’t want to relive the past. It was hard enough the first time around.”
He couldn’t argue with that.
“I have a picture if you’d like…”
“No.” Certain fear took hold of her features as she held up a hand.
“Shelly, I’m sorry.” Rick leaned closer to her and waited until she met his gaze again. “I’m not here to persuade you to meet Claire or even talk to her. That’s completely up to you. I came here to apologize. What I did was unconscionable. I know that. You have every right to hate me. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but you have my apology.”
She gave a small shrug and looked away.
Rick couldn’t tear his eyes from her. All his well-submerged memories surfaced and floated over the still waters of his soul. As young as they had been, he’d loved her. Completely. More than he’d ever realized.
Looking at her now, he knew he’d never gotten over her.
Probably never would.
“Are you done?” Her eyes became chips of ice one more and told him their meeting was over.
Rick stood and pulled on his jacket. Her chair scraped against the hardwood floor. He turned to go and his eyes landed on the painting on the wall adjacent to him. A fresh flood of memory cascaded over him and almost forced him back into his chair.
“You still have that.” He made a slow turn.
They’d sat snuggled under blankets for hours, watching the sun come up while he painted. He’d told her he loved her that morning. And he’d meant it.
Michelle moved swiftly, snatched the painting off the hook and crossed the room again. “Take it with you when you leave.” She thrust it at his chest.
Rick let out his breath and placed the painting down against the side of her desk. “No. It’s yours. If you don’t want it, take it down to The Alexander. They’re showing my work this week. I’ll make sure you get a good price for it.”
Her mouth formed a reply but a knock on the door smothered it.
“Michelle, ready to go?” A well-dressed man strode halfway into the room before he pulled up short in front of Rick. “So sorry. I didn’t know you were in a meeting.”
“I’m not.” She fumbled at her desk and made a good attempt at looking busy.
Rick hesitated. He recognized the Senator. The last thing he wanted to do was put Shelly in the awkward position of having to explain his presence. He needed to leave, that much was clear, but the man blocked his path. He couldn’t very well push past him.
“Is everything all right?” The guy gave Shelly the once over and then his gaze lingered on Rick. “Say…aren’t you Rick Matthews? I was at your show the other night. Impressive stuff.”
“Thank you, Senator.” Rick cleared his throat and cast a glance at Michelle. She sat at her desk, head down, as though she was concentrating on the notes on her pad.
“Is there anyone in the world you don’t know, Kevin?” she muttered.
Her boss chuckled and extended a hand. “Kevin Harrison. Congratulations again.” He pulled at his striped silk tie and loosened his top button. “I was just reading an article about you, Matthews. You’re from Michelle’s hometown, right? Are the two of you friends?”
Wads of cotton formed in his mouth and Rick widened his eyes as Michelle met his questioning gaze.
She rounded the desk and gently moved the senator out of Rick’s way, her face impassive. “Acquaintances. He just popped in to say hello and we had a bit of a chat. Told me his grandparents had died. I was close to them at one time.”
“Oh, shame. Sorry to hear that.” Harrison’s apology was lukewarm at best, his smile officious.
“Thanks.” Rick inhaled and avoided Shelly’s gaze. The excuse given for his visit rankled him, but what had he expected from her? The truth?
“Hey, why don’t you join us for drinks later? I need Michelle now, I’m afraid. We’re already running late.”
Michelle shook her head. “Can’t do drinks. You have an early dinner appointment. Rick was just leaving. He’s late as well.”
“Oh, sorry.” Harrison jumped out of the way, looking almost relieved. Rick didn’t fail to notice his arm slip possessively around Michelle’s slender waist. A sudden intense dislike for the man crept out and pounced on him like Jackson would after winning a game of Hide-n-go-seek.
“Nice to meet you,” Rick forced a smile and chanced a fleeting glance at Michelle. “Thanks for seeing me.” There was nothing more he could say now, yet years of conversation sat on his tongue.
She stood very still, stoic and immovable. “Good-bye, Rick.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Michelle paced herself, splashing through puddles as she rounded the corner of the last block before she reached home. She weaved in and out of pedestrians enjoying the Saturday afternoon now that the rain had stopped. Humid heat rose from the wet pavement and seeped through her pores. She slowed and jacked up the volume of her iPod, the pounding beat of Nickleback quickening her speed.
Fury ripped through her again and urged her on.
How dare he! Her hatred for Rick Matthews intensified as she replayed their meeting in her mind. Who did he think he was, waltzing back into her life after all this time, offering an apology? As if she’d ever forgive him. Or her parents.
She breathed in the muggy city air and swiped sweat off her face. At least Kevin was out of town this weekend. She wasn’t up for another inquisition. Thankfully he didn’t dwell on the subject of her and Rick’s friendship for long. She’d mastered the art of distracting him when need be.
Kevin had been pushy lately though. The break would do them good. Her living room was filled with more elaborate flower arrangements she plan
ned to get rid of today. The lilies made her eyes water—their heady scent overpowered the apartment. She didn’t even like lilies. She’d told him that a million times.
Gerber daises. Big, bright Gerber daises, all colors. That’s what she liked. But Kevin never listened.
Michelle slowed to a jog as she approached the front steps of her apartment building and turned down the music. Her neighbor was just coming out the door.
“Afternoon, Ms. Hart.”
“Hey, Mr. Rosenburg. How are you today?” She managed to raise her voice enough so he would hear her, but not loud enough to make him think she was shouting.
“As fine as a pickle on rye and pastrami.” The older gentleman stepped spritely down the steps and flashed the toothy smile she’d grown so fond of over the past few years. “You were out longer than usual. Do an extra lap around the park?”
“Four extra laps.” She stretched out her legs on the cement steps and grunted, her muscles screaming louder than the music she’d just been listening to. At this rate she might even have a heart attack.
Thank you, Rick, the cause of my early demise.
“Got men trouble?” He chuckled and waved his walking stick in the air. “I told you, honey, I’d marry you tomorrow, just say yes and it’s a done deal. You wouldn’t have a care in the world.” His wrinkled face cracked as he tipped his head back in raucous laughter.
“Oh boy.” Michelle let her own laughter come and pulled at her ponytail. She tugged her hair up and retied it in a bun at the back of her head. “I don’t think I could keep up with you, Mr. Rosenburg.”
“No, you probably couldn’t. Well, I’m off to my chess game. You take care, honey.”
“You too. Oh, watch out…” He stepped onto the curb and just about barreled into a man hurrying past their building. Michelle moved down a step in case he needed help, but the two narrowly missed colliding. The man stopped to apologize and Michelle’s heart stopped right along with him at the sound of his voice.
Maybe she was being punished.
She’d always believed God had a rather warped sense of humor.
Her eyes shot to the front door of her building and she attempted a dash before being spotted.
“Shelly?”
Not fast enough. She turned and drew in a deep breath, locking eyes with Rick Matthews again.
Surprise showed from his eyes and a brief smile crossed his face. “You live here?”
She scowled. “Genius.”
His smile broadened and Michelle’s heart beat a little faster. How was it possible for him to look just as handsome as he’d been when they were kids? In tight fitting jeans and a white cotton shirt, open at the collar, he didn’t look a day over twenty-five.
She inhaled and clenched her jaw. Who cared what he looked like? He was pond scum. Attractive pond scum, but pond scum nonetheless.
Michelle tugged at her damp t-shirt and shifted, hovering between two steps. “What are you doing here? Please don’t tell me you found out where I lived and…”
“Don’t shoot.” He raised his hands, a grin curling his mouth. “The Alexander is on this street. I was heading that way. It’s my last showing tonight.”
Okay, she couldn’t deny that. The gallery was just around the corner. At least he wasn’t stalking her.
She drew in a breath and gathered her scattered thoughts. “Congratulations. I hear you’re the talk of Manhattan.” Civility she could do. They paid her big bucks for it.
Kevin had shown her the article he’d read. It sang Rick’s praises. Art dealers were flocking to see his work. Kevin wanted her to secure him one of Rick’s paintings for his office. She almost offered to give him hers.
“Yeah, well.” Rick’s smile faded and he ran a hand over his hair.
It was as thick and dark as she remembered, without a strand of gray. Another reason to hate him. He’d probably never run a day in his life either, didn’t have to work out three times a week to keep that fine physique.
“You must be pretty pleased with yourself.” Michelle’s cheeks grew warm as the telling words popped out. “I mean, with your show.” She really hoped it wasn’t obvious that she was checking him out. But the way one eyebrow quirked as a grin settled on his lips told her it probably was.
A faint pink hue tinged his cheeks. “It’s not that big a deal, really.”
Michelle took two steps down and folded her arms across her chest. “Of course it is. Is your family in town?”
Rick’s chuckle swept over her like a cooling breath of air. Her eyes began to sting, the odd sensation taking her by surprise. She lowered her head, kicking at a stray piece of newspaper.
If he noticed her emotion, he didn’t let on. “Yeah, even Landon. Flew in for the show. I don’t know if you ever met him. He came to live with my folks when I was in college.”
“I think I might have once.” Michelle tried to smile as she met his eyes. “I didn’t go home much…after. So, how is he? Married, kids?”
Rick shook his head. “Nope. He lives in DC, works a pretty tough job. He’s taking some time off. Wants to come back to Bethel with me.”
Michelle snorted. “Not much to do there.”
“Yeah, well, maybe that’s what he needs.” His smile reached right through her and jangled the chains around her heart.
She backed up a step. “Well, I need to go. Shower.”
“Say, uh…we’re having a thing…drinks and whatnot afterward tonight. Maybe you and the senator want to come?” He gave a hesitant glance in her direction.
Michelle drew in a breath. Did he know she was involved with Kevin? Of course he did. Kevin didn’t hide the relationship. He used it to its full advantage. Rumors of his divorce and their pending engagement had been running the wires for weeks.
“Kevin’s out of town.” She would have gone with him too if he hadn’t been visiting his mother. But there was no love lost between her and Jessica Harrison. Michelle pulled at the waistband of her running pants and turned off her iPod, her throat drying up.
Rick shrugged his shoulders and didn’t seem phased. “You could always bring the old guy. I saw the two of you talking before he almost barged into me. Is he your neighbor?”
“Yes.” Michelle sighed, desperate to escape the deep blue eyes she thought she’d long forgotten. “He’d probably love that, but he goes to bed around seven. Sorry.”
A slight breeze whispered through the trees around them and lifted his hair. Her mother had said Claire looked just like her. If they’d had a son, she’d bet…
Rick shrugged again and scratched the side of his jaw. “Okay, I get it.” His face tightened and the humor left his eyes. “If you change your mind about Claire or ever just want to talk, my number is listed.”
“Don’t hold your breath.” She blanched at her sharp tone. “Sorry, it’s just…difficult. I wasn’t expecting this. I don’t know how to deal with it.”
“I know. Me either.” He moved a little closer and captured her gaze. She just wants to meet you. Wherever it goes from there is up to you.”
“Don’t push it, Rick.” Michelle shielded her eyes from the sun. “You don’t understand. I’ve moved on. That part of my life is over. I don’t think anybody has the right to demand anything of me. I don’t want to do it and that’s that.”
His sudden laughter wrapped around her like a favorite sweater. She drew herself up and hugged her arms. “There’s nothing funny about this.”
Rick tipped his head, raised an eyebrow in question and set his gaze on her. “You always were as stubborn as a herd of cows.”
“And you always had such a way with words.” She glared and watched the color disappear from his cheeks.
He ran a hand down his face and widened his eyes. “I didn’t mean that you…you know…I wasn’t comparing you to a cow or anything.”
She wanted to let him wallow in his misery, but laughter bubbled out of her before she could do a thing about it. He joined in, that deep familiar chuckle penetrating her
soul again, reminding her of past pleasures.
Michelle caught her breath and leaned against the concrete arm of the stairs. “Do you remember that time when we cut through the Jensen’s field and left the gate open?” She smiled at the memory and Rick laughed harder.
“Cows all over Main Street,” he spluttered. “And we sat in school and pretended like we had nothing to do with it.”
“Yeah. But my dad figured it out. You sure did have a way of getting me in trouble, Rick Matthews.”
Their laughter petered out like a stone skimmed across the lake, finally sinking, swallowed beneath the dark depths below.
He veered his gaze and the weight of her words weighed heavy around them.
Michelle shifted. The safety of her apartment called to her, but the bleak expression on his face made her stay. “So… uh, this girl…Claire. Is she going to stay in Bethel?”
Rick’s eyes got brighter as he looked her way again. “No, I don’t think so. She and her husband are due back home the end of next week.”
Michelle pulled her arms behind her and worked a kink out of her shoulder. “They have children?”
“No.” Rick rubbed his eyes and released a sigh. “Tried a few times. They had another miscarriage a while back, about a year ago I think it was. Claire had just lost her mom. Took it pretty hard.”
For some reason, his words shook her. Like someone had shoved her finger into a light socket. Michelle turned from him and pulled her hair free, ran her hands through it and shoved old memories away.
Michelle knew that kind of pain. Knew that kind of loss.
The kind you never quite get over, no matter how hard you try.
Rick was right. She couldn’t run anymore.
“What am I supposed to do?” She faced Rick again. “I can’t go back there. You don’t know…”
“I do know.” Understanding settled in his eyes. “Your parents told me the whole story, what happened when you came home. Shel, they’re sorry. I know they’d give anything to change things, so would I. But we can’t. All we can do is forgive and move on.”
Hidden in the Heart Page 23