“I’M EXHAUSTED,” MARIN’S mother said late that night. “I’m going to bed.”
“Okay,” Marin murmured. “See you in the morning.”
Marin’s mother had gotten home from the mainland only a little while before Marin had come home from Adam’s house. They’d each had a piece of fresh apple pie that Angelica had made using the apples they’d bought from the orchard on Mirabelle, and Angelica had pumped Marin for information about the hours she’d spent with Julia and Wyatt. Marin hadn’t been able to bring herself to explain what had happened with the pictures of Adam’s wife, so as far as Angelica knew things had gone off again without a hitch.
Her mother turned in the hall on the way to her room. “You seem preoccupied. You all right?”
“Sure. I’m fine.”
“And everything went well with the Harding kids?”
“Yeah. We had fun.”
“Did you? Did you really have fun?”
“Yes, Mother. I had fun.”
“Does that mean you’re rethink—”
“No, it doesn’t.” Marin laughed. “I still don’t want kids. Not every woman is born with the mothering gene like you and Missy.”
“They’re awfully sweet, though, aren’t they?”
Marin turned away. “Go to bed, Mom.”
After her mother closed the door to her bedroom, Marin walked through the house, switching off lights and leaving only a lamp on in the living room and a light over the sink in the kitchen. Adam’s house was completely dark. He wasn’t in his office, but he wasn’t asleep, either. She could feel it. Strange, but it was almost as if she could feel him.
Glancing outside into the backyard, she saw his silhouette in the moonlight. He was leaning up against that tree again, sipping on a beer. Knowing it would more than likely be a mistake, but feeling as if she should apologize again for what happened earlier, Marin went outside and quietly walked toward him. “Care if I join you?”
“You sure you want to do that?”
“Yes.” She grabbed a beer without asking and popped the top. It was impossible to not think of the last time they’d been together at night in this backyard, of how it had felt to be in his strong, warm arms, but she had a feeling neither had to be worried about a repeat performance tonight.
A soft rustling sound came from the nearby bushes and Slim walked cautiously toward them. Marin reached out to pet him. The cat purred, arched his back and rubbed against Adam.
“He comes around every night I’m out here,” Adam said, petting him. “Wonder who he belongs to.”
“Missy. His name’s Slim.” She scratched his neck and smiled as he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. “I’ve always wanted cats.”
“Why don’t you get one?”
“Too much of a commitment.” She took a drink of her beer as the cat wandered away. “I’m really sorry for what happened earlier tonight.”
“Don’t be. I should apologize for the way I reacted. Those were Beth’s favorite photos from throughout the years. She’d always intended on putting them in albums, but it never got done. You couldn’t know.”
“Still, I can’t help but wonder…is it so wrong for Julia and Wyatt to want to remember her with pictures beside their beds?”
“Not at all. It’s only hard for me to see her face.”
“Maybe if you saw her more it wouldn’t be so difficult.”
“Oh, so now you’re a therapist?”
“Sorry. You’re right,” she murmured. “Do the kids know? About how she died?”
He nodded.
“Afterward…is that when you started traveling from one town to the next?”
“Yeah. Beth and I were born and raised in the same small town outside of St. Louis. She was the only woman I ever dated.” He smiled. “We went to the same college. Got married after we graduated, and ended up settling in our hometown. Her family. Mine. Everyone was there, and everyone, relative or not, knew what had happened.”
She tried to imagine what that had been like for him and couldn’t, but she wasn’t imagining the painful memories etched in every line on his face. He’d gone through hell and back. “That had to have been difficult. Facing them.”
“People’s reactions, strangely enough, ranged from compassion to outright disdain to denial. Her parents tried not to blame me, but it was always there. When they looked at me.” He glanced out over at the lake as if the memories were almost too painful. “Some of her friends came out and accused me of pushing her into it. Rightly so.”
“How could it be your fault?”
“She’d been suffering from a postpartum depression. After Wyatt was born, she just seemed to get more and more sad. More and more withdrawn.”
“Did she get help?”
“She was seeing a doctor for it. I thought she was on an antidepressant, but we found out later that she hadn’t been taking the medicine.”
“But how could you have known?” The unfairness of it hit her. “What could you have done differently?”
“She’d gone through the same thing with Julia, only she seemed to have snapped out of it after a while. With Wyatt, though, something was different. I should’ve known she was worse. I should’ve paid more attention.”
“It doesn’t make sense that you blame yourself.”
“You have to understand. Beth wasn’t a depressed person by nature. She was extremely outgoing and happy. Home-coming queen. First flute in band. Captain of the cheerleading squad.”
“And you were the quarterback?”
“No, defensive line.” He smiled slightly. “My point is that she was constantly busy. Always planning or doing something. Then after the babies were born, that all came to a standstill. I didn’t even notice the changes in her after Julia. Too wrapped up, I suppose, in my own stuff and freaked out about supporting a family and becoming a dad.
“I came home from work one night, and she told me she’d gone to the doctor. Explained very matter-of-factly that she was in a postpartum depression and was going to be taking antidepressants. That was that.”
“You never talked about it again?”
“I asked her about it every once in a while, but she didn’t like to talk about it. I think, in hindsight, she was ashamed, in a way. I remember her once saying that she felt as though her body had betrayed her, so I paid more attention when Wyatt was born. Not enough, though. I should’ve…been there for her.”
“Did you travel at all back then, too?”
“No, but I owned a commercial construction business in the city and spent a lot of time commuting. We were behind on a big project, so I was working long hours and coming home late. She was alone a lot with the kids.”
“Still. It’s not your fault, Adam.”
“Fault is a funny thing to try and wrap your arms around. Did I draw the razor over her wrist? No. But was I there to listen, to help with the kids when she was feeling run-down? No. To rub her feet or give her a back rub? To care for her the way she cared for all of us? If I had been, then maybe, just maybe, she’d still be alive.”
“And maybe she’d still be gone.” Marin turned the bottle of beer in her hand. “You can’t read minds. If she never told you how desperate she was feeling how could you expect to have known?”
“Ever been married, Marin?”
“No.” And at the rate she was going, she probably never would be.
“Well, the way I see it, Beth killed herself because she lost hope. She couldn’t see any other way to end her pain.” Steady and clear, Adam held her gaze. “When a man makes a vow to love and cherish a woman, he’s vowing to make sure she feels that way. Every day. I don’t need to read minds to know a wife needs to feel loved. If Beth had felt the depth of my love for her, she would’ve also felt the hope that comes with love. She would’ve had the hope she needed to carry on that day. She never would’ve ended her life.”
Try as she might, Marin could find no argument against his logic. All she could do was respect this man for his deep level of commitment. How different he was from Colin, a man who had been ready to go through with a marriage based on a lie.
No wonder Adam wasn’t up for a casual relationship. It all made so much more sense now that she knew the details surrounding Beth’s death. Unfortunately, Marin only wanted this man all the more. “I have this feeling, Adam,” she whispered. “Your wife knew very well that you loved her.”
IN HER BED ROOM, ANGELICA took out her new phone and plugged it in. She really hadn’t needed a new one, but it seemed like a reasonable excuse to get Marin over to the Harding house. She’d just turned away when the darned thing vibrated with an incoming text.
I need to talk to you. ASAP
Arthur. She couldn’t keep avoiding him. Well, she could, but that wasn’t going to make him go away.
Sighing, she dialed his number. “Yes, Arthur. What is it?”
“It’s good to hear your voice.”
“That it? That’s why it was so important for me to call?”
“No. I called because I know you don’t read the newspapers.”
She’d stopped watching the news and reading papers a long time ago, after reading lies published about Arthur and their family one too many times. That was one part of public life she’d never gotten used to.
“I wanted to let you know that they’re saying we’re separated.”
“Well, at least the media got something right for a change.”
“We are not separated, Angie. You’re just taking some well-deserved time to yourself. Visiting your daughter and grandchildren.”
“If you say so.”
“That’s what I have to believe.”
“Believe what you want, but I’ll be staying here on Mirabelle for a little while longer.” Not only would that give Arthur time to stew, but it also gave Marin more time to figure things out with Adam.
“How long?”
“However long it takes.”
“THESE ARE ACTUALLY QUITE good.”
Marin stuck a marker in her book. “What are you talking about, Mom?”
“Missy’s children’s stories.” She looked at Marin over the tops of her reading glasses. “I assumed she had talent. All of you kids are creative in your own way, but I had no idea she could write this well.”
Missy’s spiral notebook lay open in her mother’s lap.
“If I take that editorial job, Missy’s going to be my first author. Haven’t you read them?”
“No.”
“You should.” Her mother tossed the notebook onto the coffee table. “By the way, I talked to your father.”
“And?”
“Apparently, it’s all over the news that he and I are separated. I’ve decided to stay on Mirabelle at least until things die down, and I might just stay until I decide about the job.”
Marin considered her options. She still wasn’t ready to go back to Manhattan. “Mind if I stay with you?”
Her mother smiled. “I would love nothing better.” She stood and walked toward the kitchen. “I’m going to make dinner. Found a new recipe for chicken piccata that I’d like to try.”
“Sounds delicious.” Marin picked up the notebook, thumbed through the beginning pages that looked like a bunch of notes, and finally came to the first story and started reading. Each story was about one of the Great Lakes. With the use of lyrical and descriptive phrases that were at once poetic and yet completely accessible, Missy managed to breathe life into each lake, giving each of them individual personalities. As Marin read, visions of loons and bald eagles, white pines and both rocky and sandy shores, sailboats, ferries, great ships, locks and canals, fish, fowl, and other wildlife filled her mind.
Before stopping to think, she flipped to the end of Missy’s notebook, found several empty pages and sketched out several ideas for illustrations as quickly as possible. As soon as she finished one, another was ready at the tip of her pencil. Then another. And another.
“Missy, you devil, you.” Marin chuckled. She couldn’t wait to start painting, and this time maybe she’d get something right.
“YES, I KNOW IT’S LATE and I do appreciate you returning my call tonight,” Adam said over the phone to the nanny agency. “I’m sorry, but after phone interviews, I don’t think any of these candidates will fit with our family.”
She countered with some talk of matching up profiles and how they had the highest compatibility scores. The bottom line for Adam, though, was that one was too old and another too young. The third wouldn’t be able to start until after Thanksgiving, the fourth was a man and, call him sexist, but with their mom gone he felt the kids needed feminine influence, and the final of the five candidates had taken another job offer a day after the agency had sent him the name.
“I would appreciate it if you would send me another list.”
“All right, but that’ll delay the process.”
So be it. “Thank you.” He hung up the phone to find Julia standing in his office doorway.
“Daddy, I don’t feel good.” Her hair was mussed and her eyes red as if she’d been crying.
He hopped up from his desk and knelt down in front of her. “What’s the matter?”
“I feel icky. Like I might throw up. And I have a fever.” She held out a thermometer. “I got it out of the upstairs bathroom.”
The digital display showed a temperature of over one hundred. He felt her forehead. She was a little warm, but she wasn’t burning up. “Let’s get you some medicine for that fever.”
“But my tummy’s upset.”
“You need to take something.” But what? He had to admit he was feeling a little out of his league. The kids didn’t get sick all that often and when they had Beth and then Carla had taken care of them. “There’s got to be something upstairs.”
He lifted her up into his arms and carried her up the steps and into the bathroom. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hung on him like a limp noodle, and for the first time in a long, long while he was scared, scared something might happen to his precious little girl. But kids got sick all the time and didn’t die, he thought, calming himself. She’d be fine. He just had to get her fever down.
He looked through the child-aged medications Carla had kept stocked in the cabinet and found a fever reducer, quickly read the directions for her age and weight and shook out the proper dosage. “Chew these up, honey.”
“I don’t wanna, Daddy. I might throw up,” she cried. “I want…Marin.”
“Marin? What about Angelica?”
“Marin. Please, Daddy?”
It wasn’t that late, not even ten, yet, so she’d be awake. Would she mind? Hard to say. “All right. I’ll go see if she can come over for a little bit.” If Marin objected, maybe Angelica would help out. He carried Julia down the hall to his bedroom, folded back the sheets and comforter, and tucked her in. “You stay in here, okay, so we don’t wake up Wyatt. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” she said, smiling weakly.
Adam ran next door. Lights were on in the kitchen and living area, so he knocked on the front door.
On seeing him, Angelica quickly swung the door wide. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Sorry for bothering you.” He glanced past her into the house.
Marin was coming down the stairs. God, she looked good even in flannel pajama pants and a T-shirt, her face fresh from clearly just having been washed, and the moment the thought crossed his mind he felt terrible thinking about a woman when his daughter was lying sick in bed.
“What do you need, Adam?” Angelica asked.
“Julia’s sick. Tummy upset. High fever—”
“I’ll come right over,” Angelica said, grabbing a coat.
“Actually…” He looked from mother to daughter. “She asked for Marin.”
Surprise registered on Angelica’s face. “Really?”
“Me?” Marin looked shocked. “I don’t know anything about sick kids. Why me?”
“I don’t know. Do you mind—”
“Of course she doesn’t.” Angelica shoved a sweatshirt in Marin’s hands. “Go.”
Marin glared at her mother. “But—”
“That’s okay.” He stepped away from the door. “I can handle it.”
“Marin Elizabeth—”
“Oh, all right.” Marin grabbed the sweatshirt, came outside and closed the door. “Has she been sick all night?”
“She seemed fine when they went to bed, but she woke up and came downstairs just now.” He let her in through the front and she tossed her sweatshirt on the nearest chair. “She’s up in my room.” He followed her up the stairs.
The minute Julia saw Marin she rubbed her eyes dry. Marin sat on the side of the bed and felt Julia’s forehead. “So you don’t feel good, huh?”
Julia shook her head.
Marin turned on the digital thermometer, displaying the last reading. “Is this your temperature?”
Julia nodded. “Will you stay here with us tonight?”
Marin turned toward him. “Adam, will you get Julia a glass of water? I think that might help her feel better.”
“Sure. I’ll be right back.” He heard them talking to each other as he walked downstairs. By the time he returned, Julia was smiling and looked as if she felt much better.
“You’re going to be fine,” Marin said as she kissed Julia’s forehead. “See you this weekend.” Then she stood.
He handed Julia the water and Marin took him by the arm. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
Wary suddenly, he followed her down into the kitchen. “What’s going on?”
“Julia’s not really sick.”
“But she has a fever.”
“No.” Marin showed him the reading on the thermometer. “You can’t have a fever that high and still be alive, Adam. I know at least that much about kids.”
“But…what…”
“While you were getting her a glass of water, she admitted she’d put the thermometer up to the lightbulb in the lamp. She wanted me to come over and stay the night. She said she had fun with me the other day and she missed me. You should know, too, that things aren’t going the best at school. She told me the other day that there’s a boy who sometimes teases her and Wyatt at recess.”
He ran his hands over his face. “I’m sorry, Marin. That you had to get involved.”
“Don’t be. She’s so sweet and such a great kid.”
“Who lied to me and to you.” Frowning, he turned.
“Adam, don’t be angry with her.” She reached out and ran her hand along his arm. “She’s in even more pain than you are. She’s not only lost her mother, she’s lost her father, too.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He did his best to rein in the anger he could feel building inside him. “I’m here every day for my kids. I would give my life for them. Drop anything to take care of them.”
“I know that, but there’s a part of you that you don’t let anyone touch. Even Julia and Wyatt. A piece of you in so much pain—”
“That’s enough,” he said softly.
“You said you’re a man who honors his commitments. What about your commitment as a fath—”
“Thank you for coming over here so late,” he said, interrupting before she went too far. “I’ll walk you home.”
“Don’t bother.” She grabbed her sweatshirt. “I’ll be fine.”
Adam watched Marin stalk across their yards. The moment she’d gotten safely inside her own house, he closed his front door and leaned against it. What did she know about being a single parent? It wasn’t easy. Yes, he worked god-awful hours, but every morning and every night he made an effort to spend one-on-one time with his kids. No doubt he made mistakes, but he was doing the best he could.
Or was he? Sighing, he went upstairs and peeked in on Julia.
She was still wide-awake. “Are you mad at me?”
“No, honey. I’m not mad.” He sat on the bed and pulled her into his arms.
“It’s just that…I like Marin. She’s fun and nice. You like her, too, don’t you, Daddy?”
Yeah, he liked her all right. “Sure, I do. But she’s not our nanny. She’s our neighbor.” A neighbor who just might be seeing the trees for the forest better than he was these days. “Marin said you were having some problems with a boy at school. Do you want to talk about it?”
“It’s not important. I can take care of myself.”
“You know what?” he said. This was going to wreak havoc with his work schedule, but he needed to do this. “How ’bout we do that shopping this weekend. Take a whole day with it and have some fun, too.”
She smiled hopefully. “On Sunday?”
“Sure. On Sunday.” He held her until she was sound asleep and then carried her to her own bed. Then he went down to his office and got back to work.