"What on earth is going on in here?" William demanded, stepping between them like a referee.
He looked from Alli to Tessa, then back at Alli again. "Well?"
"I'm sorry," Alli mumbled, suddenly reminded of where they were and what they were doing. She'd been so caught up in their fight she hadn't even heard him enter the room. But dammit, why did William have to look at her like it was all her fault?
"I'm sorry, too," Tessa said quickly.
"I should hope so," William said reprovingly. "Your grandmother doesn't need you squabbling like children. You're her family, her support system. Don't make me wish I hadn't called you both down here."
"I really am sorry," Alli said again, feeling more guilty by the minute. "It won't happen again, I promise."
"Good." William walked over to the bed and glanced down at Phoebe. After a moment, he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "How's my sweet girl?" he whispered.
"Grams woke up for a few minutes," Tessa said. "She couldn't speak though."
"We called the nurse in," Alli added. "She said it was a good sign that Grams was awake, but that it might take some time before she is fully recovered."
"Could she move her hands? She wasn't paralyzed, was she?" he asked, standing up straight, his long strides taking him quickly to Alli's side.
"I don't know," Alli said, wishing she had the words to reassure him, but she had nothing.
William looked from Alli to Tessa, then back to Phoebe. "She can't be paralyzed," he muttered. "She just can't be." His voice grew rough with emotion. "Her mother had a stroke, you know."
Alli vaguely remembered hearing something about it, but her great-grandmother had died years ago, and she'd never known her.
"Phoebe didn't want to end up like this, trapped in her body," William said. "She used to say she'd rather be shot in the head than have her spirit suffocated inch by inch, second by second."
"Oh, God!" Tessa cried. "That's not going to happen to Grams, is it?"
Tessa looked like she was about to throw up. She also seemed to be seeking reassurance from Alli when just minutes before they'd been at each other's throats. But despite everything, Alli knew she had one thing in common with her sister, a deep and abiding love for their grandmother.
"Of course that's not going to happen," Alli said forcefully. "Grams will be back on her feet in a few days. You can't give up on her, Tessa. She never gave up on us. No matter what we did."
"She's really sick, Alli. This isn't just a cold. And you heard what William said. Grams must be so scared."
"Then we'll just have to reassure her. Grams is strong. She'll make it. She has to make it." Alli looked over at Phoebe and sent a silent prayer her way.
"Allison is right," William said, renewed strength in his voice. "Thank you for reminding me. Sometimes the fear takes hold, and it's difficult to make it disappear."
"You've known Grams a long time, haven't you?" Tessa asked him.
"Since we were seventeen. I met her at a party. I thought she was the prettiest girl in Philadelphia. She was wearing one of those floaty dresses that swirled around her legs when she danced. And she had this incredible laugh that made everyone stop what they were doing so they could see what had made her so happy." He smiled at the memory. "We became friends that night, the best of friends. But a few months later her parents arranged a marriage for her with the son of their new business partner. His name was John MacGuire."
"Grandpa," Alli said softly. "But Grams never said the marriage was arranged."
"Oh, but it was, to solidify a business arrangement. John's parents had cash that Phoebe's parents desperately needed. John's parents wanted their son to have a wife, stability, a family. Phoebe's parents wanted the same thing for their child."
"But Grams loved Grandpa," Tessa said.
"She may have come to love him," William conceded. "But I can never forget how she looked the night she told me that she would have to marry to save her parents' business."
"I don't understand," Alli said in confusion. "Why didn't Grams tell us any of this?"
"It happened a long time ago."
A confused silence fell between them.
"Did Grams know that you loved her, too?" Alli asked.
"I was never in the running. I came from a poor family. That party I mentioned earlier, when I saw your grandmother for the first time, I was a waiter, not a guest."
"I can't believe that Grams would have married for money," Tessa interjected.
"She didn't marry John for his money. She married him because it was what her parents wanted her to do. It was a different world then."
"You didn't answer my question," Alli said. "Did Grams know that you loved her then?"
William tried to shrug off her question, obviously uncomfortable at the turn of events. "She never asked. I never said."
"But all these years..."
"I worked hard to make something of myself, to be someone Phoebe would be proud to know. I married twice, tried to find the happiness that she seemed to show me every time we spoke or exchanged a letter. But I couldn't forget her. And ever since John died, I've hoped that she might find her way back to me."
"Maybe she will," Tessa said. "Maybe that first love will win out."
Alli's stomach turned over at Tessa's words. She didn't want to think about first loves outlasting all others. Not that she didn't want Phoebe to be happy now, but Alli didn't want to believe that Grams had spent the better part of her life mooning over the absent William.
"I've always hoped that it would. But perhaps I've left it too late," William said heavily, moving next to Phoebe so he could stroke her forehead.
"I have to go," Tessa said abruptly. She opened her purse and pulled out a pen and jotted down a number on the pad beside the bed. "This is my cell phone. I'll keep it on. Call me if you need me, and I'll come back." She paused, her hands clenched tightly around her purse strap, as she stared at her grandmother. "'Night, Grams. Sleep well."
Alli's eyes narrowed as Tessa practically ran from the room. She wondered where her sister was going in such a hurry. And the deep, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach told her she probably didn't want to know.
Chapter Seven
“What do you have for homework?" Sam asked as Megan finished her glass of milk, leaving an uneven white ring around her mouth. He leaned over and wiped her lips with his napkin. "Well?"
"Daddy, it's summer school."
"I forgot. So you don't have homework?"
"Well, a little math, but we don't have to do it if we don't want to."
"You don't?" he asked in disbelief, for Megan was the queen of procrastination. "Why don't you get it and we'll do it together?"
"First we should have some ice cream."
"How about we have ice cream after we do your homework?"
"Before," Megan said stubbornly.
He recognized that fiery light. Sometimes Megan looked just like her mother. God help him! "Homework," he said calmly.
"Mommy doesn't make me do homework until after dessert. I want Mommy."
"She's at the hospital, you know that."
"Mommy loves me more than you do," Megan declared, her eyes challenging.
He stared at her in amazement. Was this just a ploy for ice cream? Or did she really believe that he loved her less?
"That's not true. I love you very much. You know that."
"Then how come you don't live here anymore?" she asked, her eyes watering. "I don't like that you're gone," she said with a sob.
He pulled her out of her chair and onto his lap, giving her a tight squeeze, wishing he had something to say that would make her feel better. "I love you, Megan, more than anyone in the whole wide world. Wherever I live, wherever you live, that won't change. Not even when you grow up and you fall in love with some other guy. I'll still love you the most. You have to believe that."
She put her hands on his face, the way she loved to do, making sure she had his complete attentio
n. "Can I have ice cream now?"
He laughed. "You're a bad little girl."
"Good girl," she said with a grin. "Good girls get ice cream."
He wanted to give in. He really did. And the little pout on her mouth was just too cute. "Compromise. I'll dish up the ice cream. You bring your math sheet to the table, and we'll do it at the same time."
"Okay," she said, sliding off his lap and skipping from the room.
He was a complete pushover, he decided, taking their dinner dishes to the kitchen sink. As he rinsed off the plates, he noticed that the garbage disposal was slow. He'd have to fix that.
His heart felt heavy as he realized he had no business fixing the disposal or even worrying about it. He and his wife were separated, on their way to a divorce. Three months ago he'd been living in this house, enjoying the kitchen he'd remodeled with his own hands, sleeping in the king-size bed they'd splurged on two years ago, kissing his daughter good night and waking up with Alli hogging all the covers.
He sucked in a breath and let it out slow. He didn't miss Alli. He just missed his life. He couldn't miss her. She was the one responsible for the god-awful mess that had become their lives.
As he turned off the faucet, the doorbell rang. He walked into the living room and opened the door, expecting to see one of the neighbors on the step. But it wasn't a neighbor, it was Tessa, and his heart turned over in his chest, making it difficult to breathe.
"Hi," she said softly.
"What are you doing here?"
"Can I talk to you for a minute?"
He hesitated, knowing Alli would hate that Tessa was in her house, but what choice did he have? "Sure, come in."
She shook her head. "I don't think so. Can we talk somewhere else?"
"I can't leave. Megan is inside, and she'll probably be out here in a second."
"You're right. This was a mistake. I'm sorry." Her hair tumbled across her shoulders as she shook her head in indecision.
"What's wrong? Did you see Alli?"
"Yes.”
She stared at him as if she'd never seen him before. What on earth had Alli said to her.
"I have to ask you something," she began, then stopped abruptly.
"What?"
"Do you still … Never mind. I shouldn't have come."
"Tessa, wait." He grabbed her arm.
She looked at him through big, blue eyes, and he could no more let her go than he could stop himself from breathing. "What do you want to ask me?"
"Daddy?" Megan called out.
Tessa's arm jerked under his hand. "I can't do this."
He hung on to her, unwilling to let her go. "Wait. I'll be right there, honey," he called out to Megan, then stepped onto the porch and pulled the door closed behind him. "Tell me what's wrong."
She lifted her head, studying his face with an expression of pure confusion. He'd never seen her look so—lost. Then she pulled her arm out of his grip and said, "This is the house you and Alli bought after Megan was born, isn't it? Grams told me it was nice. Just what Alli always wanted, a white house with green shutters and window boxes filled with flowers, and even a front porch with a swing." She looked over at the white wicker two-seater. "It's perfect."
"You didn't come here to talk about the house."
"No, but right now it seems like a better idea. I'm tired." She tucked her hair behind her ear. "Really tired. And worried about Grams. She woke up, but she couldn't talk. It scared me. And then Alli started saying all these confusing things, and I never know what's real and what's in her head."
"What did she say?"
Tessa hesitated. "Did you miss me, Sam? I mean, did you ever think about me after we broke up?"
"Of course I did. How could I not?"
"I tried not to think about you. I threw myself into my life. I thought if I could run really fast, I'd get far enough away that I wouldn't be able to look back. And it was working pretty well, until now."
He knew exactly what she meant, for hadn't he done the same thing, pouring himself into his new family? But time had come to a crashing halt when Alli asked for a divorce. Now, with Phoebe's stroke and Tessa's return, he no longer knew how he was supposed to feel, what he was supposed to do.
The door creaked open behind him, and his daughter's head peeked out.
"Daddy? Who's here?"
He stepped aside, putting his arm around Megan's shoulders as he pulled her onto the porch. He was both relieved and disappointed by the interruption. There were things he and Tessa needed to say to each other. Then again, perhaps there were things better left unsaid.
"Aunt Tessa," Megan said with delight.
"Hi, Megan."
"Did you come to have ice cream with us?"
"Tessa just came by to tell me about Grams," Sam interrupted. "Phoebe woke up for a little while. That's good news."
"Then we should celebrate with ice cream," Megan replied.
Sam couldn't help but laugh. "My daughter has a one-track mind."
His comment drew a reluctant smile from Tessa. "Her mother's daughter?"
"Oh, yeah."
And they shared a connection that took him back to a time and a place where they'd always known what the other was going to say before it was said.
Megan jumped between them, grabbed Tessa's hand, and pulled her into the house as Sam slowly followed. "Can I get you some ice cream?" he asked Tessa as he walked into the kitchen.
"No, thanks, I don't eat ice cream."
"Since when?"
"Since a long time ago. The camera adds pounds. I can't afford any extra."
"But you're so thin," he said as he put two scoops of ice cream in a bowl for Megan.
Tessa's face tightened at his blunt comment. "A model can never be too thin."
"Right." He still thought she looked like a good stiff wind might blow her away. But he knew that discussing weight with a woman would only end in disaster. He gave Megan her ice cream, then sat down in the chair across from Tessa, keeping Megan between them. "How long are you staying in town?"
"As long as Grams needs me."
"You don't have any pressing business?"
"I do, but Grams is more important." She drew an idle circle on top of the tablecloth with the tip of her rosy pink fingernail.
Sam watched the graceful but nervous movement for a long minute. "Phoebe must have been happy to see you when she opened her eyes."
Tessa shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not sure I even registered. I didn't know what to do when she couldn't talk. I sort of panicked. Then Alli walked in and took over."
"You saw Mommy?" Megan asked, as she quickly downed the ice cream.
“Yes.”
"Mommy said I could stay up until she got home."
"She did not say that," Sam said sternly. "In fact, you need to do your math problems. Why don't you get started on them upstairs, and I'll be up in a minute to help you."
"Now?" Megan whined.
"Now." He smiled at Tessa as Megan reluctantly left the kitchen. "She can think up more excuses to stall than anyone I know."
"You're a good dad."
"Thank you. But it's not hard to be good for fifteen minutes. You should have seen us a while ago. Megan told me she didn't like me anymore and she wanted her mom."
"She didn't say that."
"She did. But we both knew she didn't mean it." He paused for a moment. "Are you all right, Tessa?"
"I don't know. I think I've been awake too long," she said with a weary smile.
"You should go home, get some sleep."
"I will. I don't really like being in Grams's house alone, though. There are so many memories there, and when I look in her room, I can see her, and I can hear her, and it scares me that she might not be there again."
"Dad?" Megan's voice rang through the house.
"I'll be right back," he said.
"I should go."
He put his hand over hers. "Don't go yet," he said.
* * *
As Sam le
ft the room, Tessa drew in a deep, shaky breath, her emotions on edge. She hadn't cried in years, but Lord, she felt like giving in, letting down. Sam's gentle touch on her hand had reminded her of how she'd once counted on him for everything.
She blinked rapidly and took a deep breath, wishing she'd had the courage to ask him the question that had driven her from the hospital to his house. But how could she ask him straight out—Do you still love me? How could she do that, sitting here in his house, the house he'd bought with Alli, the house in which he was raising his daughter.
However Sam felt about her now wasn't important.
She had just gotten to her feet when Sam returned. Was he relieved to see she was still there... or disappointed. She couldn't quite tell. He was so guarded now.
"Is Megan all right?" she asked.
"She's fine. What did Alli say to you, Tessa?”
"It's late. I don't want to get into that now."
He stepped forward. "Are you sure? If you have something to say..."
He was so close, tall, strong, real. It would be easy to move into his arms, rest her head on his shoulder the way she'd done a thousand times. This was Sam, her Sam. When she looked into his eyes, she saw the boy she'd once loved more than anyone on earth.
"What happened to us?" she murmured. "How did we let it go so easily?"
His expression filled with guilt. She wondered if he would ever look at her with any other emotion. "Oh, Tessa," he muttered. "I'm sorry."
She didn't know if he was apologizing for the past or apologizing for now, but it didn't matter, because somehow her feet were moving and her arms were sliding around his neck and her head was resting on his shoulder, the cotton fabric of his T-shirt warm against her cheek.
He didn't say anything and for that she was intensely grateful. It was enough to be with him, breathing in his scent, feeling his body, so familiar, yet new, too. He wasn't a boy any longer, but a man. And it was that thought that reminded her what they were doing was wrong. They weren't friends anymore. And they weren't supposed to be holding each other.
"Sam, I want--”
"Don't," he said sharply, stepping away so abruptly her hands fell to her sides.
"Don't what?" she asked in surprise, wondering why his mood had changed so drastically. And then she saw it in his eyes, on his face, the wariness, the distancing. "What did you think I was going to say—going to do?"
Summer Reads Box Set, Books 4-6 Page 37