Laurel nodded and smiled. “I kind of felt that something wasn’t quite right. That there was a strain between you. Money troubles can do that to a couple, even when both people love each other.” She walked over and placed a hand on Olivia’s arm. “Maybe we’re not so different after all. I’d like to stay in touch if that’s all right. Maybe you could use an extra friend while you’re here.”
Mixed-purpose tears stung Olivia’s eyes. She was free from her suffocating secret, and she had a new friend, but there were new questions and loose threads she’d have to deal with. Like the lawsuit she had filed against Hudson.
Susan returned alone and stood in the doorway, listening to the conversation. “Susan … this is—” Olivia’s mind went blank.
Laurel turned and offered Susan her hand. “Hi. We finally meet in person. I’m Laurel Ashburn.”
“So nice to put a face with the name.” Susan turned to Olivia. “You’ve got a good friend here. She checked on you every day.”
Laurel smiled at Olivia but addressed her remarks to Susan. “I meant what I said on the phone. I’m here if I can help. You’ve got my number. Seriously … call me.” With a final smile at Olivia, she was gone.
Olivia held her breath, waiting to see if Susan would mention the conversation she had overheard. “I didn’t know you were coming back today. Is everything all right?”
She pulled a newspaper from her purse and handed it to Olivia. “We saw this in the gift shop. Reporters tied you and Jeff to Hudson. They’re digging into every aspect of your lives and making my brother look like some jealous fraud who scammed people while chasing classmate Hudson Bauer’s success.”
Olivia sat up and faced Susan. “Our company was real. An LLC. We went to work every day. In fact, work was nearly all we ever did until our marriage was little more than a continuous business meeting. Jeff may have pretended he was already what he hoped to become, but he found clients and accounts in all those cities, and I made sure that every contract was fulfilled and every debt was paid.”
“Thanks for telling me that. My parents adored Jeff. These stories describe a man they don’t recognize at all. Reading them was like losing him again.” Her head tilted to the side. “It was easy to blame you for Jeff’s withdrawal from the family, but I overheard your conversation. I’m willing to admit that we may have gotten that wrong.”
Susan blew her nose and sighed. “We ran into one of the interns on your case. You will be discharged tomorrow morning. We can proceed with the plan to hold Jeff’s memorial service in the afternoon.”
Tears welled in Olivia’s eyes.
“And there’s something else. I’m sorry, Olivia, but my parents need me.” Her voice broke and she quickly recovered. “I’m all they’ve got now, and I have so little time before I report back to school. I need to spend it with them.”
Olivia nodded, fully aware that the fear she felt inside was apparent on her face.
“I know this sounds harsh, but for the first time, I’m trying to be a good sister-in-law to you, so listen to me. I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt on the past, but that means what happens going forward is entirely on you. If you can’t ask your mom to help you, then take the help that’s available. Laurel wants to help, and Hudson has offered to let you use his parents’ house. There’s even a car for your use, and he’ll cover whatever else you need.”
“I don’t want to depend on Hudson. I’d rather go to a rehab center.”
“I’ve already accepted Hudson’s offer.” Susan placed his business card on the side table. “I’m spending the night with my folks, but I’ll be here around noon to pick you up and take you to the service. I’ll arrange for Laurel to get you back to Hudson’s house, and you should accept her offer to come every day until you’re well enough to drive. If you don’t like these plans, you’ll have to call Hudson and Laurel yourself.” Susan moved to the door and stopped in her tracks, pressing her forehead against the wood. After a long silence, she turned back around and said, “I don’t know what happened between you and my brother, but suffering in silence hasn’t served you well so far. Please accept Hudson’s help.”
“You really want me to do that, even knowing that Hudson may have ruined Jeff’s life?”
“Perhaps Hudson deserves some of that benefit of the doubt I just extended to you.”
Chapter Five
The small funeral room reserved for Jeff’s service was packed with gawkers and reporters. Hudson arrived a few minutes late, intending to be the last one in the room and the first one out. His jaw tensed when he saw Liv sitting in a wheelchair, a study in brittle dignity. Her left arm was still in a sling, and while her left leg was wrapped, the right was worse, braced to immobilize the knee. Her long, dark hair hung loosely, hiding her face until she turned his way. The telltale shades of bruising—blue/green and yellow—showed under her makeup on the left side. One stitched cut lay across the lean angle of her right jaw. Another sat above her right eyebrow. None of it obscured her beauty. She still took his breath away.
She remained poised through every speaker’s measured remarks about Jeff’s childhood and sports achievements, with a conspicuous silence on him as an adult. At the end, when the minster asked if anyone else would like to speak, Olivia raised her hand.
Several quiet moments passed after they brought the microphone to her. Then, drawing a breath, she said, “Jeff lived his life by William Arthur Ward’s maxim, ‘If you can believe it, you can achieve it.’ So he lived as if he had already achieved the life he wanted—dreaming big, working hard, taking chances, paying his debts as he went, and sadly, dying too young. One hundred years ago, people would have applauded his spirit, and that is how those who loved him will remember him.”
Hudson had never been more proud of her or more confused. By every measure that mattered, Jeff McAllister had been a lousy husband, but here Liv was defending him. Maybe she really did love him. Maybe their marriage was better than it appeared.
He left the room by the back door, but Susan zoned in on his retreat, broke ranks with the family, and caught up with him. She looked like a wooden soldier with her arms by her sides and her jaw as stiff as her resolve. Hudson reached out his hand to her.
“My parents are falling apart. I told Olivia I need to spend every minute I can with them. I sent you an email with the name and number of a friend of Olivia’s named Laurel. She’s willing to help out for a while, and frankly, Olivia has no other options. I’ve arranged for Laurel to bring Olivia to your house after the funeral luncheon, and then Olivia or you will have to figure it out from there. I’m sorry.” Susan turned and walked away.
Flummoxed, Hudson pulled up the email and called Laurel’s number on the drive home to hire her to be Olivia’s caretaker for the next few weeks. As he ended that call, the phone beeped with a message from Alejandra, alerting Hudson that several gossip rags had picked up on Hudson’s connection to the Jeff and Olivia McAllister story and had called for comment. He swore under his breath. The greatest miscalculation of his life and the resulting fallout were now matters of public discussion.
He focused on more urgent matters and hurried home to make things comfortable for Olivia, assuming she would agree to recuperate at the beach house. He was making closet space for her as a car pulled into the driveway. Nervous as a rabbit in a rifle sight, he went out to meet the women.
Laurel was standing by the open, rear car door that led to Olivia. After offering her a brief welcome, Hudson’s gaze locked with Liv’s dark brown eyes. The pain and fear he saw there made his heart lurch, and then a tear streaked down her cheek. She seemed as fragile as crystal. He longed to pull her into his arms and promise her that everything would be all right, but the fear of hurting her and the sting of her rebuke left him tentative and wary as he carefully lifted her into the wheelchair. Once Olivia was safely inside the house, Hudson turned things over to Laurel. “Settle her inside. I’ll bring the bags, and then I should probably go.”
Pl
ease push me into a bedroom,” Olivia whispered urgently as panic rose in her. Laurel obliged, pushing her down the hall and into the first room she came to. “I just need a moment.”
“Would you like me to leave?”
A meager nod served as Olivia’s response. “But please don’t tell him I’m crying.”
Laurel patted her shoulder, and then backed through the door, closing it.
Olivia surveyed the familiar room through tearful eyes. “The sunshine room,” as Mrs. Bauer referred to it, had been hers on the many weekends she spent with Hudson and his parents. She remembered being awakened by the sun spilling through the large windows and the gingham checked curtains, bathing the yellow and white space with light. She could almost hear Hudson’s knock at the door, summoning her for a morning walk while his mother prepared omelets and fresh fruit. They would work the daily puzzle between bites or argue over the day’s news. She could often hear him belaboring his position through the door as she dressed. The room that launched those beautiful days, her sanctuary from college stress, caused her pain this day, serving as a reminder of lost innocence and of how far she had strayed from who she once was and what she once wanted.
She wiped her tears and took a deep breath. Jeff was gone. At their best, they were colleagues and occasional lovers. At their worst, they were masters of isolation. But even so, his had been the face she woke up to every morning. For eight years, they had shared tight quarters, broken bread together, cheered their few successes, and shared their disappointments. The tears began anew as she faced the blank pages of her future. They could have been more to each other. Could have done so much more for each other.
She needed to sleep. She needed her pain meds.
After a few frustrating minutes maneuvering the chair around the furniture, she managed to open the door but was wedged at an angle and stuck. With painful effort, she craned her neck and found Hudson and Laurel sitting at the kitchen table, flipping pages in the blue folder that held her discharge instructions.
She studied the intense worry on Hudson’s face, his forehead resting in one hand as the other leafed through the notes. His face was leaner now, covered in dark, manly stubble. A few lines creased the edges of those dark eyes that seemed too intense for the once peaceful collegiate.
She could see the young man she once knew in his upturned nose and in the way he sucked his cheeks in when he was deep in thought. His previous thin, youthful frame was muscled and moved with confidence now. They were the same height—five feet ten inches. Back in their college days, she enjoyed wearing heels and towering over him. He never minded nor did she. He was now the one towering over others in the corporate world. No longer equals, they were worlds apart, brought together only by pity. Or by guilt.
She tried again to dislodge the chair, but the ruckus caught Hudson’s attention. He rose and took a few tentative steps in her direction.
“May I help you?” he asked.
His formal address was uttered with a softness that melted her pride. She nodded.
So much about him was different. So much was yet the same. He had never cared for pretense. Comfortable clothes, serviceable shoes, soap, water, a neat haircut. These were Hudson’s fashion trademarks. His style had evolved.
Hudson leaned over her to maneuver the wheels. The cologne he wore surprised her. Never a fan of guy perfume, as he called it, he acquiesced during a pre-graduation shopping trip to the mall. Olivia made him stop at the men’s fragrance counter so they could test a cologne she found in the fold of a magazine at a doctor’s office—Acqua Di Gio. She raved about the scent, but Hudson “didn’t think it was him.” She knew now that he had been right. This clean and woodsy scent suited him, taking her back to hikes shared with Hudson along the coastal trails, campfires on the beach, and the mingled aroma of woodland air and the sea.
The muscles in his tanned forearms tensed and rippled as he gripped the wheels and forced them to turn. His hands surprised her. They were not the soft, manicured hands she would have expected from a business titan whose daily work involved lunch meetings and business negotiations. They were clean, but calloused, marred by recent scrapes and a few healed scars. Hudson was still a hands-on man.
Once the chair was free, Hudson rolled her down the hall. She caught her first glimpses of the welcoming touches he had added to the house to ease her move. Three vases of yellow tulips brightened the bathroom sink, the kitchen counter, and the living room coffee table. She didn’t know how to thank the giver standing behind her, the very man named in her pending lawsuit.
“The flowers are beautiful,” she said, with a practiced coolness.
He replied with a detachment that was equal to hers. “Your favorite, as I recall. One of the first flowers in the Maryland spring.”
Yes. Another thing he had remembered. He parked her in the living area, and she scanned the cheerful space. “I’ve always loved this house. Why did your parents move out?”
“These old wooden houses require a ton of maintenance. I own it now and manage the upkeep so they can just enjoy it when they’re here, which hasn’t been much since they’ve gone to Africa.”
“Do you spend much time here?”
“Not as much as I should, but I’m glad you’re going to be here for a while. You spent a lot of time here before. One by one, we’ve all abandoned the place. I think the house feels lonely now.”
Hudson’s voice carried a sad, melancholy tone. The same feeling burdened Olivia’s heart. She wondered if being here was the cause—in this house with its memories.
“I placed your bags in the master and moved my parents’ things into the guest room. I also emptied my closet in case we need the other room for Laurel or the night nurse once we hire one.”
“I’m sorry to be a nuisance.”
“My mother will probably thank you. Now my college ‘junk,’ as she refers to it, is neatly packed in labeled containers and stowed in the storage closet with my elementary school paintings and my junior high shop projects. Her dream has come true at last.”
Laurel giggled from the sofa.
“And Liv, the fridge is stocked with what I remembered as your favorites—vanilla soy milk, tropical fruits, and bread with as many grains as I could find. It feels like a brick, so it should be pretty healthy.”
Liv … She hadn’t been called that in years. Jeff had picked up on Hudson’s nickname for her and referred to her as Liv when they were single, but he began addressing her as Olivia on the day she became his wife. She asked herself whether the change was meant to usher in a future with Jeff or to slam the door on the bitter break from Hudson. Olivia still had painful questions for Hudson, but this return to the beach house was also unearthing happy memories. as well.
“I should be going. I’ll arrange for a night nurse, but I’m just a call away if you need anything.”
“Can you stay?” The words escaped her mouth without thought, apparently catching Hudson off guard. His head tipped sideways, and he looked askance at her.
“You’re asking me to stay?”
She immediately wished she could withdraw the words. “I thought we could talk.”
He drilled into her with a look that seemed intent on extracting further clarification. Neither of them spoke until Laurel broke the standoff.
“I’ll go unpack Olivia’s bags,” she said, as she veered down the hall to the master suite.
“I can stay for a while if you’d like.”
“Could we sit on the porch?” Olivia felt his hands twist on the chair’s handholds.
“Of course,” but his voice sounded anything but sure as he wheeled her onto the deck to view the churning sea.
She tipped her head back, enjoying the sun’s warmth and drawing in a long breath of salty pine-tinged air. Her heart relaxed with each breeze that riffled her hair and the wild ferns in the brush along the edge of the lawn. She studied Hudson as he leaned into the rail and watched the revelers below.
“Thank you for all you’
ve done for me. For the flowers, for the gifts, for this view.” Olivia looked down at her battered hands. “I’m grateful to be here and out of the hospital.”
The rigid set of Hudson’s shoulders relaxed as he turned her way. “You’re welcome. I wish you weren’t in this situation at all.”
She fingered her wedding band. “We have a lot of old ground to cover.”
“No need to dredge up the past today. All that matters is how you are right now.”
The sting of tears began again. “They say I’ll be as good as new in a few weeks.”
“No.” The wistful reply was long and drawn out. “You’ll be a new you. Hopefully, a happy you again, but your life has changed.” He moved to the covered Adirondack chair near her and sat. “I heard about the baby. I’m so very sorry, Liv.”
The words were right, spoken with an ache similar to her own. Hudson was also in pain, but was it from empathy or guilt? She muttered a thank-you and segued to a new topic.
“Tell me about you. What does a day look like for a business mogul? I can’t picture you glued to a desk.”
“Neither could I. I leave the day-to-day operation to talented software developers, lawyers, and MBAs.”
“So what are your days like? Don’t tell me you’ve taken up golf or something.”
Hudson leaned his head back and laughed. “No golf.” He gave a final chuckle. “I travel, looking for new talent and ventures.” Growing more animated, he adjusted his position and leaned closer. “I’ve been to some of the most unforgettable places you can imagine, Liv, and met the most inspiring people. There is a wonderful, complex world out there, and it still needs dreamers and optimists.”
Dreamers and optimists. “Doers.” That was the term she and Hudson coined in their freshman year to refer to themselves. They were going to be doers who would tackle the great problems of the world.
“I don’t know if you still have an interest in humanitarian work, but there are opportunities for you—when you’re ready, of course.”
A SECOND CHANCE ROMANCE BOXED SET Page 37