When a Man Loves a Woman

by Kathryn Shay

  Amanda doesn’t want that kind of life anymore.

  He slapped the papers down on the desk. “Well, I do.”

  But did he really? If it meant spending his days keeping the rich and their money together? Didn’t he want to do something useful with his life? Like Adam Sherwood.

  Like Amanda.

  Swearing vilely under his breath, he leaned back and closed his eyes. It always kept coming back to her, to a pair of azure eyes that sparkled with laughter at some silly joke, that darkened with arousal when he brushed her lips with his thumb, that shone with admiration when he did something she approved of.

  “So she’d rather see you in a job like Adam’s,” he said aloud again to no one in particular. “Who cares?”

  You do. So does Heather. So does Jason, for that matter.

  Nick forced his thoughts away from Amanda to Heather. Glancing at the clock, he wondered if she’d reached his mother’s house yet. Something passed through him, some sense of foreboding like the one that he’d had the day he found her with the photo album of Suzanne. He picked up the phone just as there was a knock on the door.

  A young, well-groomed lawyer poked his head in the office. “Oh, good, Nick, you’re here. Mr. Joris is ready to discuss the new file now.” The junior partner was everything Nick wanted to be. Why did he seem insipid today?

  Shaking off the introspection, Nick disconnected and made a mental note to try his mother as soon as he could. He followed the man out of the office, still feeling uneasy.

  o0o

  April Fools’ Day, 5:00 p.m.

  Amanda bent into the bar, mercilessly stretching her leg muscles. She tried to clear her mind, but images haunted her. Matt and Sandi groping for some direction in this crazy world. Her father’s confusion as she left the restaurant. The look of horror on Nick’s face when she told him she was going to call Suzanne.

  But thoughts of Heather dominated. She did two pliés and knitted her forehead, remembering how she’d discovered the teenager had been in her office. It wasn’t until she was about to leave that she saw Heather’s picture tucked into the frame of Lisa’s photo. By chance, she turned it over. There was something about the message that bothered her but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She was touched by the declaration of Heather’s love for her, but something was just not right.

  The instructor led them through ronds de jambe and several pas de bourrée. Amanda lifted her foot, thinking about the counseling sessions. Nick had let Heather keep seeing her professionally, at least for now. She’d met with the girl once alone and once in the group. Heather didn’t say much either time but Amanda noticed a strange calm about her that was frightening.

  True to her word, Amanda had phoned Suzanne Cohen, but Heather’s mother was out of town for a week, so Amanda hadn’t been able to get that ball rolling, either. Heather had seemed to accept this delay with weary resignation.

  The dance steps got complicated soon and she was forced to concentrate on them. But in the cool down, her mind turned to Nick.

  God, she missed him, his long slow kisses, his hand trailing down her spine, how full she felt when he was inside her.

  You could call him.

  No, he’d made his position clear. She needed to concentrate on Heather. She was so vulnerable now, so like Lisa, she...

  Lisa...Heather...the frame...I love you...

  Amanda stopped in the middle of a long, low stretch. No. Heather’s message had said, I love you too. I love you too. Heather had obviously heard Amanda say she loved her. And there was only one time Amanda had done that. Five nights ago in the DiMarco living room.

  No! No! Heather must have overheard their whole, horrible confrontation over Suzanne.

  Lisa...Heather...Ron...Heather...Oh, my God, not again, please, not again.

  Leaping off the floor, quicker and faster than she had done during any of the dance routines, Amanda rushed to her backpack and pulled out her cell, punched in Nick’s cell number. It rang once, three times, six times...no answer. She spotted the directory and made a split-second decision. She’d call Nick’s office, and if he thought this was a ploy, then so be it. She would not ignore her grim hunch about his daughter.

  This phone rang only once before a brisk, efficient voice answered, “Joris, Beech and Stowe. May I help you?”

  “I need to talk with Nick DiMarco. He’s a clerk in your office.”

  There was a slight pause. Amanda wondered if perhaps clerks didn’t get phone calls.

  “Just a moment. I’ll try to locate him.”

  Oh, Lord, Heather may not have a moment.

  The woman came back after what seemed like hours. “I’m sorry. Mr. DiMarco is in with Mr. Joris.”

  “Then interrupt them, please,” Amanda said, annoyed.

  “We don’t interrupt the partners for anonymous callers. Perhaps you’ll leave your name and I’ll have Mr. DiMarco return your call when he’s available.”

  Amanda hung up. In the time it took for the receptionist to patronize her, she’d made the decision to go to his office. Her dance class was only five minutes from where she’d once dropped Nick off at the high rise in the city.

  Fifteen minutes later, she strode through the marble and oak lobby to the receptionist’s desk. She hadn’t thought of how she looked until she saw the woman take in her appearance. Still dressed in mauve tights, leotard and baggy shirt, Amanda hadn’t even changed her beribboned ballet shoes.

  “I need to see Nick DiMarco,” she said without preamble.

  The receptionist scrutinized her with disdain.

  Amanda stood tall and implacable before her. “I just telephoned. He’s in with Joris. Call him immediately.”

  The woman sucked in her breath. “I told you, I can’t do that.”

  Drawing herself up, Amanda assumed a combination of her socialite haughtiness and her best schoolteacher voice. “Yes, you can. This is a family emergency. If you don’t summon him right away, I’ll go in there myself.”

  When she saw the receptionist reach for the phone, she took a step forward so she came up flush with the intricately carved desk. “If you call security, a teenager’s life will be on your conscience. Do you really want to live with that?”

  It did the trick. While she waited for Nick, she tried to call his home again.

  After three long minutes, Nick hustled through the door. “Amanda,” he said hoarsely, scanning her exercise attire. “What is it?” His demeanor revealed no annoyance, no embarrassment, just genuine concern.

  Pulling him aside and out of earshot of the clearly curious receptionist, she tried to remain calm. “Nick, where is Heather?”

  “At my mother’s. Why?”

  Oh, God, had she just imagined all this because of Lisa and Ron?

  “Why?” He gripped her arm.

  She bit her lip. “I’m worried about her. A few things happened in school and I—”

  But she broke off when he pulled out his cell and clicked into a number. “I’ve had a bad feeling about her all day. She was unusually cheerful...Yes, Mom, hi, it’s Nick. Is Heather there?”

  Amanda watched him, holding her hands to her mouth, palms together, thumbs hooked under her chin. She knew the answer to his question before he confirmed it. “No, no, that’s okay. Yes, she’s probably at Tammy’s and forgot to tell me. No, I know you can’t go over there with no car. Stay with Jason and I’ll call you back.”

  His face was ashen when he hung up and his whole body sagged. “Did you drive?”

  “Yes. I’m illegally parked out front.”

  Nick grabbed her hand and ran for the door. They were inside the car and on their way before he spoke again. “You think she may do something to herself, don’t you?”

  It was the hardest question Amanda ever had to answer. “Yes, Nick, I do.”

  As they spun away, Amanda reached over and cradled his hand in hers. He held it tightly on the torturous trip to his house. Both were haunted by their own private demons and neither spoke.r />
  o0o

  April Fools’ Day, 6:00 p.m.

  Heather lined the pills up next to each other and then sorted them into little piles by color. Frowning, she got up and took milk from the refrigerator. The painkillers her father used for his knee were in capsules and she’d never learned to swallow those things. Deliberately, she broke open the few that were left and dissolved them into the glass of liquid. She knew she’d be able to chew the remainder of the codeine pills Aunt Beth had left here, but would have a harder time with Jason’s prescription drug. Without touching any of them, she sank into the chair and closed her eyes.

  “It’ll be over. No more blame. No more guilt. And, the best—no more pain.”

  And no more Jason, no more your dad, no more Ms. Carson.

  She opened her eyes and glimpsed at the picture of the three of them again, which she’d set up on the table. “There’s no other way to escape it.”

  But louder, and clearer than the voice in her head, she heard, There are always other ways to stop the pain. Ms. Carson had said it a thousand times.

  She’s right, kid. There are other ways.

  Slowly, Heather got up from the table, left the macabre banquet untouched. Picking up the frame, she trudged to the back of the apartment. She entered the bedroom, dimly lit from the fading spring sun, and inhaled all those wonderful smells that were her father. A tear trickled down her cheek as she thought of how she’d hurt him.

  His ever-present legal pad was on his night table and she saw his hand-written notes. She read aloud. “Number one—You’re just being stubborn. Number 2—She’s probably right about Suzanne. Number 3—You aren’t objective about this.”

  Heather read all nine reasons, then dropped onto the bed. Ms. Carson had said, Adults have to make their own way, Heather. You can’t change things for them. And you aren’t responsible.

  Was Daddy making his own way? Would he take care of this himself?

  Suddenly, Heather was really tired, but she felt calmer and a little better, too. Carefully setting the paper down, but holding the picture close to her heart, she crawled up on the bed, hugging her father’s pillow to her chest like a baby’s security blanket. Its scent comforted her and she closed her eyes.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Nick unlocked the door and entered the apartment. Amanda was seconds behind. He raced to Heather’s bedroom and when he found it empty, he breathed a little easier. “She’s not here,” he yelled from the small space. Relief gushed through him and he turned to leave. But Amanda stood frozen and her stricken look was like a sucker punch to the gut.

  He saw the empty brown bottles clutched in her hand. “These are empty but there are pills strewn over the kitchen table. I don’t know if she took any. We have to check the rest of the place.” Turning, she headed for Jason’s room.

  Striding to his own space, he found his daughter lying still as death on his bed. “Oh, God, no. Please, no.” He darted toward her, vaguely aware of Amanda behind him, touching his shoulder and picking up the house phone.

  Fear pumped through him as he lifted Heather’s wrist. It was warm and her pulse was steady. The breath whooshed out of him as he sat on the bed and cradled her in his arms. “I think she’s okay.”

  “The ambulance is on its way. We can’t be too careful.” Amanda moved to the bed and bent over Heather.

  His daughter’s beautiful, clear blue eyes opened. “Daddy?”

  Nick held her in a hammerlock, and it was Amanda who kept calm. “Heather, honey, did you take any of these pills?” She held up the pernicious bottles.

  Tears pooled in Heather’s eyes, but she shook her head definitively.

  “Thank God,” Nick whispered.

  Amanda’s shoulders slackened and she knelt beside his daughter. “You thought about it, though, didn’t you?”

  Surreptitiously, she glanced at her father. “Yes.”

  “You even got them all ready.”

  Nick thought he might be sick. “Oh, sweetheart, why?”

  “I wanted to stop the pain.”

  Nick tightened his grasp on his daughter. Amanda sat on the side of the bed and stroked Heather’s hair. Several minutes passed, then the pounding on the door interrupted them. Rising, Amanda hurried out of the room, returning in seconds with the medics.

  “They just want to check her,” Amanda said. “It’s common practice, Nick.”

  Stepping back, he glanced at Amanda and instead of the recrimination he expected, he saw remorse etched on her face. She said simply, “Nick, suicide thoughts are much different from an attempt. She still needs a lot of attention, but she didn’t try to kill herself. At the last minute, she made the decision to live. It’s such a good sign.”

  Wanting to believe Amanda more than anything in the world, he nodded. “Yes, I suppose it is. But I feel guilty that it got this far.”

  Amanda’s eyes glistened. “So do I. But she made the right choice, and we have another chance to help her.”

  He squeezed her arm gently. “Yes, we do.”

  “Daddy?”

  Nick turned, spoke briefly with the medics and then let Amanda see them to the door. He returned to the bed, scooped Heather up and sat down on the mattress, resting his back against the headboard. “I’m here, sweetheart. I always will be. I promise.”

  When Amanda returned, she asked Heather a few more questions and seemed satisfied with her answers. Nick held his child until she fell asleep, Amanda watching from a chair beside the bed. The last thing he remembered before his own eyes closed was the incredibly sad look in hers as she got up to leave.

  o0o

  Three hours later, Heather peered up at him from the bed. “I’m sorry, Daddy.” Her face was as white as the pillowcase, and there were huge smudges under her eyes. She’d slept deeply and he’d left her side only once, to call his mother and father, fill them in on what had happened and ask them to keep Jason until Nick could spend some time explaining this to him.

  He smoothed her hair back. “Shh, none of that, sweetheart. No one blames you, no one’s mad at you.”

  Tears welled up in Heather’s eyes and she grasped the covers tightly. “I’ve caused even more trouble.”

  “No,” Nick said firmly. “None of this is your fault. You didn’t drive Amanda away. I did.”

  Heather frowned. “How did you know I felt that way?”

  “Amanda figured out you heard our conversation from the picture you left her.” He tucked the sheet around her securely.

  “But, Daddy, that’s not all.”

  “All right, honey, obviously I don’t understand everything.” Feeling the fear flow through him like icy water, he took his daughter’s hand and held it too tightly in his own. “But I promise you, Heather, I will understand. I’ll listen to everything you say, do whatever should be done to help you through this...sadness. You’ll never feel so desperate that you...” His voice broke, and he wasn’t sure he could continue. But he remembered how he’d felt seeing her curled on his bed and he forced himself to say, “That you’ll consider ending your life.”

  Just hearing the words seemed to calm her. The tears receded and Heather squeezed his hand. “Okay, Daddy, if you say so.” Her eyes closed and she drifted off into a safe sleep.

  Nick leaned back into the chair by the bed. He’d been here for hours, and he would stay the rest of the night, and every night after if he had to. Occasionally, Amanda drifted into his mind, but he banished thoughts of her, for now. I will not think about her. I need to concentrate on Heather.

  An hour later, she awoke again. “Daddy, I’m thirsty.” Nick was immediately roused from his doze. He helped her to sit up, poured water and urged her to take small sips. “Feeling better?”

  Reaching to touch his scratchy beard, she frowned. “Yeah. You been here all night?”

  The words twisted in his gut. “Of course I have.”

  “Aren’t you going to work?”

  Nick could only shake his head. The meaning behind the innocent
questions made his stomach clench. “No, sweetheart, I’m not.”

  She knitted her eyebrows as if struck by a thought. “Jason?”

  “He’s at Grandma’s. He said to tell you he loves you.”

  “He can’t have the unicorn now.” Heather smiled and lay back on the pillows.

  Nick didn’t understand the comment but he patted her hand. “Don’t worry about anything. Just sleep.”

  She did. At two o’clock, she woke again and Nick stirred in his chair. She reached for his hand and gripped it again. “I was so scared, Daddy. After I got out all the pills, I realized I couldn’t do it.”

  “I’m so glad.” The words were wrenched from him.

  “I kept thinking about everything Ms. Carson had told me, and how much I loved you and Jason.

  He caressed the dry skin over her knuckles with his fingertips. “And we love you.”

  She studied his shadowed face. “Daddy, did you hear about the guy who dies and goes to heaven and Saint Peter tells him he can ask any saint a question?”

  Nick’s eyes flew to hers. The humor seemed so incongruous. But Heather was smiling “No, sweetheart, I didn’t hear it.”

  “He wanted to see Mary. When she appeared before him, the guy asked her why, in all the pictures he’d seen of her, she always looked so sad.”

  “What did Mary say?”

  “Mary looked at the man, smiled sadly and said, ‘I really wanted a girl.’”

  Grimly, Nick chuckled, Heather grinned and then drifted off again. Closing his eyes, Nick once again willed the tears back. Oh, sweetie, I always wanted a girl, too. And by God, I’m going to keep you!

  Heather woke again at dawn with the big question. “What’s going to happen now?”

  Too bad Nick had no answers. “What would you like to happen now?” When he saw her lips thin, he added, “Heather, you can tell me. I know I haven’t listened before, I’ve been overbearing and strict, but I promise I’ll listen now. Give me another chance.”