Wesley and Jude had gone over to Aurora’s on Wednesday. They’d seen Lizzie and talked to her. Jude reported that everything seemed okay; Lizzie was understandably hurt, but she looked healthy and busy. She’d treated them to cookies she’d made herself in Aurora’s kitchen, and Aurora said she’d turned the kitchen into a bakery. “Frustration baking,” Aurora had called it.
But now it was Friday and Martin wanted to see his granddaughter for himself. A visit from him would ease Alex’s mind, and it was a father’s place to do that. Alex had lost so much in the past few days, not the least of which was the man she’d reconnected with. When Alex had been with Teddy, she’d enjoyed a life of comfort and attention. Now she was alone and lonely, and Martin was worried about her.
He hadn’t yet sorted out his feelings for Daniel Chandler. More than a few times in the past week Martin had muttered a smattering of choice words about Daniel Chandler under his breath. “I’d like to...” He’d let the threat die on his lips. He wasn’t in the business of hurting people, and besides, Alex had told him the whole story about that night, and Martin wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t have acted the same way, at that age, anyway. But Daniel’s behavior now, his avoidance of Alex, was difficult to rationalize.
“Sure he’s angry,” Martin said to the mirror while dressing for his visit to Aurora’s place. “He’s hurting, too. And Alex did deceive him. But she kept the secret so he could have a future. Doesn’t that mean anything to the man?”
To Martin’s way of thinking, Alex’s sacrifice should be taken into account when it came to forgiveness. But so far Daniel’s only kindness had been two phone calls to check on the situation here. Martin had timed both calls. The longest had lasted eighty-two seconds.
“Not good enough, Senator,” he said, pulling his boat shoes over bare feet.
Alex met him at the front door. “How long will you be, Daddy?”
“I’ll stay about an hour if the ladies will let me,” he said. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m sure Lizzie is fine, or we would have heard, and we’ll have a good talk.”
“I’m wondering if you should tell her that I will be the next one to visit,” Alex said.
He patted her shoulder. “Let’s see how it goes, Alex.”
Martin knew his talents did not include peacemaking, but he hoped he could help. As he drove to Aurora’s, he thought about what he could say to Lizzie, mostly a rehash of what he’d thought about for days. He wanted to tell her that he understood her anger and confusion, and even disappointment in her mother, but he also needed her to come back home. Mostly, he would tell her he loved her.
When he got to the house, he drove around back and found both women turning dark earth with spades and shovels. Lizzie kept working, but Aurora stopped and went to his car. She had on cutoff shorts, a T-shirt and a large brimmed hat. She wiped sweat from her forehead. Maggie had been fond of planting flowers, but this scene was different. Aurora’s hands seemed built for getting dirty.
“Hi, Marty. Nice to see you.”
“You, too, Aurora.” He turned his attention to Lizzie. She, too, had on cutoffs and what looked to be a baggy cast-off T-shirt and a visor. Her hair was gathered into some sort of bird’s nest thing on top of her head. Amazing. His perfectly put-together grandchild was taking fashion advice from Aurora Spindell. The notion made him smile.
“How’s she doing, Aurora?” he asked.
“She’s a dynamo, Marty. I can’t keep up with her. If she’s not concocting some bit of baked heaven in the kitchen, she’s papering the bathrooms or starting a garden.”
Martin could only marvel at the thought. “Wow.”
“Believe me, I’m not making her do any of this,” Aurora said. “She wants to help me. I’d say she’s getting some stuff out of her system, and it must be working. That first morning I found her sitting on my back step with her head on a backpack. I could barely get her to eat a bite of eggs. Now she’s wolfing down pork chops and mashed potatoes like they’re going out of style.” Aurora chuckled. “And making cake for dessert.”
Martin stepped out of his car. He and Aurora leaned against the hood. “Lizzie’s problem is more than just an argument with her mother. Has she told you what’s bothering her, what caused this separation from her family?”
“She finally did two nights ago. It’s a sad thing what she’s going through. For years she thought this Teddy fella was her daddy. Now she knows different. And it’s tough for Daniel, too. He missed out on the most joyous years of childhood.” She smiled. “But then, he missed most of the teen years, too, so that can be a blessing.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” Martin said.
She merely shrugged. “All families have problems, Marty. One that doesn’t must be like those plastic people who live in a dollhouse.” She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Well, you know how it is. Your daughter must be suffering most of all since she’s carrying the burden of guilt.”
“I’ve never seen her like this,” Martin admitted.
Aurora looked at Lizzie. “Go on, Marty. Get her to take a break and talk to you. It’ll be okay.”
* * *
LIZZIE POURED TWO glasses of lemonade and set them on a refurbished table in Aurora’s backyard. She took one lawn chair, and Martin took the other. She’d given her grandfather a hug, but now she gave him an earnest stare.
“I’m not ready to forgive her yet, Grandpa.”
“Okay, but the word yet indicates to me that you might soon be able to.”
Lizzie rolled her lemonade glass between her hands. “She’s my mom. I’ve always loved her, admired her.” She looked down as if the liquid in her glass held all the answers. “We were a happy family. Turns out now we weren’t a family at all.”
“I don’t agree, sweetheart. You and your mom and Teddy were about as close a family as I’ve ever seen.”
“You know what I mean,” she said softly.
“Yes, I do, but you don’t know what I mean. What is a family, anyway, Lizzie? People brought together and staying together because of a strong bond of love. You had that in spades with your mother and Teddy. The way that man bragged about your accomplishments, every one from your first step to your piano recitals. No daddy could have been more proud.
“And the way he fussed over you when you were a baby. You’d have thought he was handling fine china.” Martin laughed. “‘She won’t break, Teddy,’ I said to him. I’ve had three and they’ve all survived.”
Lizzie scrubbed a dirt-smeared finger under her nose, but didn’t speak.
“Let me ask you this, honey. If you had been adopted by both your mom and Teddy, do you think they would have loved you any less?”
“No, I guess not.”
“That’s because blood isn’t any more important than love. In fact, it’s much less important. I knew you weren’t Teddy’s daughter. Didn’t tell you because your mother didn’t want me to, and I abided by her wishes.”
He smiled. “Let me tell you something, honey. If Teddy had ever hurt you, father or not, I’d have chased him from here to the state line, just like I would have done to any man who hurt any of my girls, but that was one worry I never had. As far as I was concerned, Teddy raised you, protected you and, most of all, cherished you.” He sighed. “To me, that’s a daddy.”
Lizzie looked up at him. Her eyes glistened with tears. “But what do I do now, Grandpa? Daddy... I mean Teddy is gone. I can’t talk to him. There’s this new man I hardly know. What do I do about Daniel?”
“What do you want to do about him?” Martin asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t know how to behave around him. Before I knew this, we were friends. We shared so many interests. Should we go on as we have been? Should we be different somehow? What do I call him?”
“Honey, you know the old saying that
a person should never bite off more than they can chew. It’s good advice, and you should listen to it. You don’t need to handle everything all at once. Give a relationship with Daniel time. Let it jell. See what path it takes. Decide for yourself how big a role you want him to play in your life. And if it makes you feel any better, I’ll bet he’s worried about the same things, just like you are.”
“You think so?”
“I do. And you’re practically a woman now. If you don’t want anything to do with Daniel or any of us, you can decide that, too. But that decision wouldn’t include me because I’m not ever going to let you go. And I don’t think your mother will, either.”
Lizzie almost smiled. “I wouldn’t want you to, Grandpa.”
He opened his arms and she cuddled into his embrace. With her head on his shoulder, he gently rocked her, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. “You’ll do the right thing about all this, Lizzie Pope. You always have. And I think it would have made Teddy proud.”
She sniffled. “What about Mom?” she asked. “We can’t leave things like this. There’s her relationship with Daniel and my college future, and going back to Chicago together...”
“That’s all true, but this is between you and your mom. I can’t work that out for you. But I do know this. Nothing will ever be worked out if you don’t see her.”
She nodded against his chest.
“So I’ll tell her it’s okay to come over here?”
“You can tell her, Grandpa.”
“When I do, I expect she’ll come barreling right over.”
Lizzie chuckled.
He leaned back and looked into her eyes, clearer now, determined and perhaps a bit hopeful. From the distance he saw Aurora leaning on a rake, smiling. “How you getting on with Ms. Spindell?” he asked.
“Aurora? She’s great, Grandpa.”
As he waved at his neighbor, Martin kind of thought so, too.
* * *
LESS THAN TWO minutes after Martin arrived back at Dancing Falls, Alex had thanked him for opening communications between her and Lizzie, and gotten into her car. Driving to Aurora’s, she decided she would set aside all the rehearsed words she’d planned and let Lizzie steer the conversation.
Her first reaction upon seeing Lizzie was relief and then admiration for Aurora’s skills. Lizzie’s face and arms were tanned. Her hair showed subtle highlights of sun-streaking. Lizzie had always been pretty, but after a few days under Aurora’s care, she seemed robust and even earthy.
It was good to see her out of the theater and in the sun, Alex thought, getting out of her car.
Lizzie came up to her. They didn’t hug, which was strange, but Alex didn’t care. She was happy just being in her daughter’s presence.
“How are you, honey?”
“I’m okay. And you, Mom?”
Alex shrugged. “To be honest, I feel like I’ve lost my other half.” Alex had meant to convey how much she missed Lizzie, but when the realization hit her that she could be speaking of Daniel, as well, an all-too-familiar ache squeezed her chest.
“Let’s sit over here in the shade,” Lizzie suggested. “Aurora is in the house, so we’ll be alone.”
“Okay.” They sat and remained silent for a few moments while each woman gathered her thoughts. “How would you like to proceed?” Alex asked. “I’ll answer any questions. No topic is off-limits.”
Lizzie gave her a straightforward stare. “Tell me about my father, about Daniel,” she said. “Not the stuff I know already, but the stuff you know.”
Alex’s mind went back eighteen years to warm, moon-kissed evenings at Birch Shore, and she said the first thing that came to mind. “He was so easy to love, honey. I think you will learn that for yourself.
“Daniel is friendly, funny and...noble. He pleases people without working to be a people-pleaser. Kindness and fairness come naturally to him. When we were kids, he helped everyone with their parts in the revue we put on at Birch Shore. I think that’s why he’s a good politician now. He listens. He evaluates. He doesn’t judge. And he tries to make the best decision.”
“What decision would he have made about your pregnancy?”
This was an easy question. “He would have stood by me, because of the kind of man he was even then. He foolishly might even have suggested marrying me, but that would have been a mistake. We were so young. Neither one of us was ready for that kind of commitment.”
“But you married Daddy... I mean, Teddy.”
“I’d known Teddy a long time. I trusted him. Daniel and I were a summer romance. Our emotions were like a fierce storm, powerful and strong, but maybe as fleeting. I did a terrible thing by deceiving Daniel. I don’t know if he would have gotten over that. I don’t know if we would have lasted.”
“And now?”
“Now I don’t know. I’ve hurt Daniel. I’ve hurt you. I’ve had to question everything I did all those years ago. I told myself my silence was meant to give Daniel his freedom to determine his own future. I knew I could take care of you. We would be okay. But Lizzie...”
“What?”
“I believe I did two things right through the years. One, I never hurt Teddy like I’ve ended up hurting you and Daniel. Teddy was happy with me and ecstatic with you. And two...” She smiled and took Lizzie’s hand. “I think I raised a great kid, not by myself, I admit, but still, you turned out pretty darned terrific.”
Lizzie squeezed Alex’s hand. “I don’t know how to react to him now,” she said. “I mean, when Daniel was my mentor, I knew, but now he’s my father. Everything has changed.”
Alex nodded. “Some things have changed, but what is a father if not a mentor, one who guides you through life?”
“Grandpa says I should give it time with Daniel.”
“And Grandpa is never wrong,” Alex said. “Just ask him.”
Lizzie smiled. “I don’t even know when I’ll see Daniel again.”
“As soon as you want to, I’m sure of that.” Alex knew the same was not true for her. She would have to give Daniel and Lizzie space to be together, just the two of them, time to connect on this new level. And she would have to accept that she’d hurt Daniel beyond his ability to forgive.
“I’ll see him,” Lizzie said. “We have to start somewhere, I guess. And in a few days we’re leaving to go back to Chicago anyway.”
“About that...”
Lizzie gave her mother an expectant look.
“We have so much shopping to do to get you ready for college. And now we have to choose an entirely new color scheme.”
“What do you mean?”
“I scoured catalogs looking for dorm room accessories in white and yellow. Now I may have to leave the buying up to you so you can pick red and white.”
Lizzie’s grin broke through the last of the melancholy. “Ohio State colors!”
Alex shrugged. “If there’s one thing this mess has taught me, it’s that I made a whopper of a mistake when I was your age. You can’t do any worse than I did. Fill out an application for OSU if that’s what you want to do.”
Lizzie hid a coy smile behind her hand. “I already did. I was accepted last week.”
Alex faked a stern look. “I’m not the only Foster woman who can keep a secret!”
“I was going to tell you and then things got crazy.”
“Yes, they did.”
“Mom, who should I tell about this whole Daniel thing?”
“That’s up to you, Lizzie, but it might be wise to live with the newness of what you’ve discovered for a while. Make sure you’re comfortable with Daniel. And with me again.” Alex wasn’t ready to introduce Lizzie to her concerns about the media and her worry about Daniel’s campaign. There would be time enough for that.
“You’re probably right. I’ll keep thi
s between us for now.”
Alex stood. “Go get your things. Let’s go home.”
Lizzie ran toward the house. Alex followed slowly. Before they returned to Dancing Falls, she had to thank Aurora Spindell for being a caring neighbor.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ONCE SHE AND Lizzie were home, Alex picked up the phone to connect with the other person in Lizzie’s life who deserved to know what was going on. She got Daniel’s recorded announcement and left a message for him to return the call. If nothing else, she would see if he’d call back as quickly as he did the last time she left a message.
The phone rang within a minute. “Hello, Alex. Do you have news?”
His voice sounded so strong, so good. “Yes. I wanted you to know that everything is improving here. I went over to Aurora’s today and had a nice talk with Lizzie. She agreed to come home with me.”
“I’m sure you’re relieved.”
“I am. There’s one other thing you should know. I told Lizzie that it’s okay with me if she filled out an application for Ohio State.”
“You did?” He seemed surprised. She didn’t blame him.
“Is she going to do that?”
“She already has, and she’s been accepted,” Alex said. “She’s quite happy with that decision.”
“I’m sure she is.”
Alex wished she knew a way to keep Daniel on the phone. Just hearing his voice raised her spirits, gave her hope. But she couldn’t kid herself. It was false hope, and she had nothing left to say that he would care about.
“I guess that’s all,” she said. “I didn’t want you to worry.”
“One more thing, Alex,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“Did you talk about me? I mean, will she want to see me?”
“I think so,” Alex said. “Lizzie doesn’t blame you for what I did, Daniel. I’m sure she sees you as a victim just as she is.” As an afterthought, Alex added, “And she’s right.”
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