Martin had been away from Maggie only a few nights during their thirty-eight years of marriage. Still, he said, “If it’s okay with you, Aurora, I think I’ll help you into your bedroom and then grab an extra pillow. I’ll bunk down here on the couch for tonight.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“I hope it isn’t, but it’s what I’m going to do. If I can use your phone, I’ll call my daughter and tell her my plans.”
Aurora leaned against the back of the sofa and released a satisfied sigh. “You’re really a pretty good egg, Marty,” she said.
He chuckled. “As eggs go.”
* * *
MARTIN RETURNED TO his house the next morning after accepting Aurora’s offer of coffee. Lizzie was in the kitchen when he came through the back door.
“Hi, Grandpa. How was your sleepover with Aurora last night?”
He smiled at the grin on her face. “Don’t read anything into that, Lizzie. I just wanted to make sure that Ms. Spindell would be safe through the night.”
“And was she?”
“Yes, and thankfully, her sprained ankle is better this morning, too. How is your grandmother?”
“The nurse is with her. Everything is okay, I guess. Nothing new.”
Martin headed straight for the coffeemaker to pour his second cup of the day. Nothing new. Always the same answer. Maggie was “holding her own.” There had been no change in her condition. The life of his once vibrant wife was now described as nothing new. And as usual, there was nothing he or the entire field of medicine could do about it.
“Where’s your mother?” he asked.
“She’s upstairs getting ready.”
Martin stirred one sugar into his coffee. “Ready for what?”
“She’s going out today. A picnic with our handsome senator. Can you believe it?”
Actually, he was shocked. Not disappointed, though. His Alexis was still a young woman, a pretty one at that. She needed to go out and accept the fact that the end of Teddy’s life did not mean the end of hers.
“Really?” he said. “She’s going out with Daniel?”
“It’s the best, isn’t it?” Lizzie said. “He’s so nice, and I think he likes her.”
“Hmm...” Martin took a sip of coffee. “Did you know that those two have a history?”
Lizzie pulled out a chair and sat. “You mean beyond the summer they both worked at the resort? Did they used to date?”
“I don’t know if they dated, exactly,” Martin said, “but while Alexis worked at the resort, she told Grandma and me that she’d formed a friendship with Daniel. I knew he was Gus Chandler’s son from the hardware store. They were a good, well-respected family in Greenfield. I always wondered if your mom had sort of a crush on him.”
“I didn’t know that part.” Lizzie took a bagel from a basket on the table and tore off a small piece. “You know what they say, Grandpa. History can repeat itself.”
But was it always the best thing if it did? he wondered. What had happened to end that crush all those years ago? When Alexis announced her pregnancy, Martin had a fleeting thought that perhaps the father was Daniel. He quickly banished the possibility. Alexis would have told him if the father was a local boy, knowing the families would have worked together for the benefit of both the parents and baby.
He clearly recalled the resolve on Alexis’s face when she said, “It’s no one you know, Daddy. Just someone who stayed at the resort. It was a mistake...” She’d dissolved into tears, and a look from Maggie quickly silenced any more questions. Days later Martin decided the father couldn’t have been Daniel. Alexis had been fond of him. She wouldn’t have kept this information from him. And then Teddy, dear, sweet, honorable Teddy, admitted his adoration of Alexis, and a solution presented itself.
Martin often pondered about Lizzie’s real father, but everything had worked out for both his daughter and granddaughter. He resigned himself to accepting that, for her own reasons, perhaps pride, perhaps shame, Alexis had made the decision that secured a comfortable, safe future for her.
Nevertheless, it was kind of nice that romance was in the air at Dancing Falls. He’d known that Alexis had been terribly fond of Teddy. She had a good life with him, but he often regretted that she might not have enjoyed the kind of passion he’d experienced with Maggie. All of his girls had suffered too much heartache in their short lives, and he needed to remind them that we only go around once. They owed it to themselves to make the most of every opportunity.
CHAPTER NINE
AT 10:30 ALEX came downstairs to a pair of grinning Cheshire cats that strongly resembled her father and daughter.
“You look lovely, darling,” Martin said.
“The outfit is okay, Mom, but I have a pair of shorts that would fit you and they’d show off a little more leg.”
Alex swept a glance down her perfectly appropriate clothes. “This is fine. Bermudas are making a comeback, and the blouse is feminine, don’t you think?” She frowned. “And both of you can just stop imagining all sorts of...well, whatever it is you’re imagining.”
“I’m not imagining anything,” Martin said. “Are you, Elizabeth?”
“No, I’m not imagining anything.”
“Conspirators, both of you,” Alex said.
Jude swept into the living room wearing a pair of denim cutoffs and a short-sleeved plaid shirt. “I just got off the phone with Carrie,” she said. “Lizzie told me about the big date, and Carrie wants you to call her when you get home.”
“It’s not a date!” Alex protested. “At least not to me. I’ll be eating food with insects buzzing around and scrambling to find an outdoor restroom. That’s not a date.”
“Maybe not to you,” Jude said, “but...” She narrowed her eyes. “That’s what you’re wearing?”
Running out of patience, Alex said, “And what exactly do you find so offensive about this outfit?”
“The blouse is a little too froufrou, isn’t it? I mean, the neckline is okay, and the itty-bitty cornflowers are cute, but ruffles went out of style a long time ago.”
Alex gave her a scathing look. “This from the Foster family fashion guru who hasn’t had on a print or a ruffle since kindergarten, and doesn’t read a magazine that doesn’t have a four-legged creature on the cover.”
Jude frowned, looking adorably hurt. “Point taken.”
The doorbell rang. “Never mind. Let me go on this so-called date and get home as fast as I can before you all have me married!”
She opened the door to a man who had lost nearly twenty years in the past three days. In loose-fitting beige shorts and a light blue crew-neck shirt, he looked less like a polished politician and more like the boy she’d had a hopeless crush on one summer. She could hardly catch her breath. And no way could she think about eating.
“I’ve got our lunch in the car,” he said. “You look great, Alexis.”
She shot a look at her family over her shoulder, and Lizzie laughed. “Have fun, you two.”
Alex walked out ahead of Daniel, her head swimming. Many years had passed since anyone had told her to have fun on a date.
* * *
MARTIN STOOD IN the doorway until Alex and Daniel had pulled down the drive. He scratched the back of his neck.
“What’s wrong, Dad?” Jude said, coming up behind him.
“Nothing, honey. Really. I was thinking that Alexis deserves to have a nice time today.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” She took his arm and urged him away from the door. “Let’s do the Sunday crossword together, what do you say?”
“Sounds good.” But he couldn’t keep the persistent thought from niggling at his brain; the same one that pestered him eighteen years ago. He’d looked closely at Lizzie, stared at Daniel. It couldn’t be, he told himsel
f. And yet the timing was so right. But Alex had told him that she’d known Lizzie’s father for only a few days and just got carried away. And Alex wouldn’t lie.
Still... He shook his head. One thing was for sure. If Daniel Chandler was Lizzie’s father... If he’d known the truth and hadn’t stepped up to do the right thing all those years ago... He stood to lose a lot more than Martin’s vote in the next election.
* * *
ALEX HAD ALMOST forgotten how beautiful this part of Ohio was. The Cuyahoga National Forest was green, lush and sprinkled with ponds and slowly rippling streams, home to extensive wildlife. She and Daniel explored the park, dangled their feet off the rocks to cool off, and at one o’clock they were ready for the lunch he had picked up at the Wooden Fork in Greenfield.
“I hope the sandwiches are good,” he said. “My mom used to buy her deli meats at this place.”
“Right now anything would be wonderful,” Alex said. “I’m starving.”
“Let’s find a table.”
She looked up as a cloud darkened the sky. “Uh-oh. Look at those thunderheads. I think our picnic is going to be washed out.”
“You could be right.” He tucked the lunch sack under his arm securely. “Maybe we should make a beeline for the car and eat inside.”
They’d made it only about a quarter of the way to the parking lot when the skies opened up with a fury.
Daniel took her hand. “We won’t make the car without getting drenched, but I know a sheltered place just around that curve.”
She quickened her pace to keep up with him and was soon entering the opening of a covered bridge. The roof provided decent shelter, though a few determined drops fell to the bridge floor. Alex shook water from her hands. “I never knew this was here.”
Daniel looked around. “Apparently, no one else thought of it today.” Sweeping his arm, he added, “The Bridge over Sprat Creek welcomes you to a unique dining experience.” After a moment he said, “Oops, I forgot to bring a blanket, but once we empty the insulated bag, we can squeeze together on top of it.”
She nodded her approval, but inside her nerves were tripping to a strange tune.
“How long has this bridge been here?” she asked when they’d somehow managed to keep their backsides dry on one bag.
“I remember doing a report on bridges when I was in middle school,” he said. “I think this one was built in the 1880s.” Looking up at the rafters, he said, “When it first opened, it accommodated horse and buggy traffic, then Model Ts. It was deemed unsafe for modern cars in the fifties and has stood here quietly ever since.”
“Besides all that, it’s a great place for lunch,” she said.
When they’d finished, Daniel pointed out that the storm had faded to a gentle drizzle. “We’ll get wet, but we can start back to the car if you’d like. You’re probably chilly.”
She thought a moment. A breeze rustled the leaves overhead, and fat raindrops plunked on the tin roof, which covered the bridge. There was a peace here she hadn’t experienced in a long while. Maybe it was the storm, maybe the bridge, maybe the man, but she said, “Let’s wait it out. I’m fine and I’d kind of like to stay.”
He leaned against the side of the bridge interior, raised his knees and wrapped his arms around them. “Good. I don’t want the day to end yet anyway.” Smiling at her, he said, “I’m having fun, Alex. Feels a little like it used to when we were younger.”
She chuckled. “I don’t know about that. We were kids and hopeful about our futures.”
“You aren’t hopeful now?” he asked.
“Not so much. Now I’m thinking about Lizzie’s future. You’ll understand when you’re a par...” She stopped, bit her lip. “Lizzie’s excited about her studies and being a teacher someday. She’s such a bright girl...” Alex looked down, avoiding Daniel’s interested gaze. Too much information, she thought.
“She’s that, all right,” Daniel agreed. “She’s taken to her part in The Music Man like she was born to do it.”
“She puts her heart and soul in everything she attempts,” Alex said.
“But what about you? You’re young. You have a long life ahead of you. I know you’ve suffered a loss, but there is still so much you could do.”
She clasped her hands tightly in her lap. “I don’t know.”
“Do you want to talk about him, Alex? Why don’t you tell me about Teddy.”
She didn’t want to talk about Teddy, but an adamant refusal might look more suspicious than allowing the conversation to happen. At least she could control what she said. “There’s probably nothing so extraordinary about Teddy. Despite being a gifted doctor, he was a simple man, a good and kind one, a great father.”
He shifted so he could see her better. “How did you meet him? It must have happened very soon after our summer at Birch Shore.”
She didn’t have to guard her words for this question. “Actually, I’d known Teddy since I was a teenager. He and my mother and father were friends. He often came over for dinner. We’d play games, watch movies. I think Teddy was lonely since he’d never found anyone.”
“So your family became his family?”
“I guess. But there was never anything inappropriate between Teddy and me. I could talk to him, depend on him. There were things I told Teddy that I never even told my parents. He just seemed to get me so well.” She glanced into Daniel’s eyes and was surprised to see such understanding there. Almost as if he had known Teddy himself.
“And when did this admiration turn to something stronger?” he asked.
“Just before I went off to college. In that month after I worked at the resort. I missed all the fun we had, and I missed you, too. I knew we’d be miles apart and hardly ever see each other.”
Daniel opened his mouth to speak, but apparently thought better of it.
“Anyway, I felt lost,” she continued. “I came home and saw Teddy in a new light. He admitted that his life was not fulfilled.” Be careful, Alex. “He wanted children, a wife, someone to share the ups and downs with.” She continued staring into Daniel’s eyes. “I adored him, I really did.”
“And the age difference?”
Alex should have been prepared for this question. Over the years she’d been called everything from “child bride” to “trophy wife.” She’d heard supposed friends accuse Teddy of robbing the cradle. But the truth was, she did care deeply for Teddy, and she resented all the unkind comments.
She looked Daniel straight in his eyes. “Aren’t you pushing forty, Daniel?”
“In three years, yes, I’ll be forty.”
“Teddy was in his forties when I married him. I’d known him almost my whole life. His age was never a factor in our marriage. To me he was just Teddy, one of the kindest, gentlest men I’ve ever met.” She ended by clearing her throat and saying, “I’m sure you’ve heard the expression that age is just a number.”
“But you were a teenager. I’m a little surprised your parents approved.”
“But they did. My parents often said that I was born with an old soul. Maybe they were right. At any rate, Teddy and I grew together through almost two decades.”
“I heard that you never went to Wittenberg,” Daniel said.
“No. I moved to Chicago with Teddy, had a baby and enrolled at the University of Chicago. After getting my degree, I worked at the Art Institute of Chicago.” She smiled. “I loved my job.”
He remained silent for a few moments, stared at his clasped hands and finally said, “What do you remember about us, Alex? About that summer?”
She thought about her answer before evading the truth. “I remember the fun, the work, the other kids, Mrs. MacIntosh, our dorm leader. And I remember a talented, dashing, captivating boy who could make me laugh with just a look and a goofy smile.”
He nodded.
“Okay. But do you also remember that I was crazy about you? You must have known.”
I was the one who was crazy in love, she thought. You never told me you had similar feelings. She had to tread carefully with her response. “I recall moments where I believed we had something special,” she said. “But in the end, I think we were caught up in the moon and the beach and the adventure of it all. I was away from home for the first time in my life. I was experiencing a freedom I’d never known. You were part of that freedom.”
“Do you remember that night under the pier?”
She held her breath. Would he mention what they’d done?
“We made love, Alex. Maybe it wasn’t the best it could have been. Maybe you deserved better than an old blanket spread on the sand and a couple of beers. But to me it was the ultimate way to bring the summer to a close. It was more than special to me, and I thought about you every day after we left the resort.”
A huge knot seemed to form in her chest, and she wasn’t sure if it was the anguish of regret or remorse. Or a deep sadness. Maybe Daniel hadn’t recognized her right away that day in the theater, but he did remember her, and her heart was caught somewhere between the joy of mattering to him and the pain of having to continue lying to him.
“That night meant something to me, too,” she admitted. But I can never tell you how it changed my life.
“I called you a bunch of times after we separated, and then you stopped taking my calls. Why?”
What could she tell him that he would believe? Whenever someone in her family said that Daniel was on the phone for her, the pieces of her heart crumbled more. “I married Teddy less than a month after the summer ended,” she said. “Isn’t it obvious why I could no longer continue any sort of relationship with you?”
“Yes, of course, but I still don’t understand. We made promises to each other about the future that night, and I don’t think you were the kind of girl who made promises she didn’t intend to keep.”
For the first time she realized that she had actually hurt him. She’d never seriously considered that he had deep feelings for her. He was extraordinarily nice to everyone, as charming to the summer employees as he was to the guests. She’d always assumed she was the proper small-town girl who was swept off her feet by the charismatic summer heartthrob, the one all the girls wanted, and she was lucky enough to end up with. But to think that she might have hurt him was an incredible revelation. Maybe if she’d taken his calls...
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