MARIN’S BAGS WERE PACKED and sitting on the front porch, and a carriage would be picking her up in a few minutes to take her to Mirabelle’s tiny airport for her flight to Manhattan. She took one last look around the rental house and her throat tightened with emotion. There were more precious moments captured in her heart during the months she’d lived here on Mirabelle than in the past ten years of her life.
She could never regret what had happened here, but the sooner she was as far from Mirabelle as she could get the better. The only thing left to do was say goodbye.
Stepping out onto the front porch, she found Jonas there, of all people, waiting for her. “Hey,” he said, avoiding eye contact with her, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.
“If Missy sent you over here—”
“Naw, she doesn’t even know I’m here.” Finally he held her gaze. “You sure you want to do this?”
“I’m not sure that I have any other options, Jonas.”
“You could marry him.”
She didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say.
“He loves you.”
“Did he say that? Have you been talking to Adam?”
“Hell, no, but any fool can see he’s crazy about you.”
“You calling me a fool?”
“Marin.” He ran his hands through his shortly cropped hair. “Some men…some men just don’t show their feelings very well. It took me a damned long time to show Missy how much I love her. It’s not easy to show that kind of vulnerability. Goes against the grain for a lot of us.”
“Are you saying I should settle? Settle for a man who loves me, but won’t show it? Won’t even say the words.”
“No. I’m saying he’ll figure it out. Give him time. He’ll come after you. I know he will. Just don’t give up, okay?”
She already had. She was a woman used to making things happen, but she’d accepted she couldn’t make Adam love her.
Jonas hugged her and then carried her bags down to the end of the sidewalk. When they turned around, Missy was coming out of the house with the boys. As she approached Marin, it was clear that Missy was openly crying, but Marin refused to follow suit. “Oh, for crying out loud, Missy. We’ll probably talk every day.”
“I know, but it was so nice having you here. Right next door. More than made up for all the years we lost.”
“Yeah. That it did.” She hugged her sister, gave Nate a kiss on his chubby cheek and then turned to Jonas and hugged him.
“You know you’re welcome any time,” he murmured in her ear.
“I know. Thanks.” She kissed Michael.
“Buh, buh.” Nate waved his chubby arm.
“Bye,” Michael said.
“Oh, one more thing.” Marin pulled out Missy’s book complete with illustrations. “It’s pretty cool, if I do say so myself.”
Missy chuckled through her tears. “I knew you’d do it.”
“Yeah, well, the publisher may hate the illustrations, but they were fun.” She turned then toward Adam’s house. The kids were coming out the front door.
“I told him what time you were leaving,” Missy said softly.
“Good. That’s good.” She didn’t want to say goodbye to Julia and Wyatt, but she had to, almost as much for herself as for them.
“Adam might come, too,” Missy whispered. “He might come after you.”
“He won’t.” Marin shook her head, too numb to cry. “It’s over.” Both kids were already crying by the time they reached her, so she forced a smile for their sake.
“I don’t want you to go,” Julia sobbed.
“Me neither,” Wyatt added.
“I know.” Marin knelt, grabbed them both, one in each arm and hugged them as tightly as she could. The three of them held each other for what seemed an eternity. “It’s going to be all right, though,” Marin finally said. “You’ll see.” She had to believe that was true. One way or another, they’d get over her.
“Carla’s coming back,” Julia said through her tears.
“See? That’s what I’m talking about.” Missy had filled her in on what had been happening at the Harding house for the past couple of days. “You two won’t even miss me.”
“Yes, we will,” Wyatt said as he drew in a shaky breath.
“Will you come and visit us?” Julia asked.
She didn’t want to lie, but the truth seemed too much even for her at the moment. “I’ll try, but I’ll probably be pretty busy at first looking for a new job. In the meantime,” she said, “you can both write to me.” She gave them each a box of cards with envelopes addressed to her Manhattan apartment. “You don’t have to write much,” she said, glancing at Wyatt. “Practice your ABCs. Draw me a picture. Whatever you feel like. I don’t care.”
That was enough. She didn’t want to draw this out any longer. “As soon as you have a new address,” she said, “send me a note, and I promise I’ll write.” Then with one last look into their sweet faces, she turned and climbed up onto the carriage.
Adam never came outside, never even came to the window, but she could feel him there. Hurting. She wasn’t foolish enough to think he didn’t care about her. He just didn’t care enough.
She finally, finally knew what she wanted in life, and she didn’t care whether that life played out in Manhattan, Mirabelle, St. Louis or Mississippi. She just wanted Adam, Julia and Wyatt. What was a person to do when she couldn’t have the only thing she wanted in life?
As the carriage drove away, her control wavered and crashed. The first of many, many tears slipped unchecked down her cheeks. The emotions she felt after quitting her job, Colin’s betrayal and her parent’s separation were nothing compared to this. This—this—was what it felt like for a life to truly fall apart.
ANGELICA STEPPED INTO HER Manhattan apartment and set her keys down on the hall table. As she kicked off her pumps, she breathed a contented sigh. It was Friday, the end of a long, but very fulfilling week. She’d discovered two very talented unpublished authors and was finally feeling comfortable in an office setting.
And someone was in her kitchen. A lemony, savory scent filled the air along with the sounds of pots or bowls and cutlery. A burglar having gotten into her apartment was a virtual impossibility. This building was as secure as it got in the city.
She tiptoed down the hall and peeked around the corner. “Arthur! What are you doing here?”
He spun around, two large salad forks in his hands. “Oh, you’re home. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I thought you had some state function you couldn’t miss.”
“Wilson can handle it.” He shrugged. “Besides, I wanted to be with you.”
Two salmon fillets lay on a baking tray, herbs and seasonings sprinkled over the dark pink flesh. A bottle of white wine sat opened and on ice beside two glasses. Apparently, he’d been tossing a fresh salad of romaine and cucumber.
“I hope you’re hungry.”
Actually, she was.
He poured two glasses of wine and handed one to her. “You look…so…happy. You must be liking your job.”
“It’s wonderful. The people are busy, but surprisingly welcoming. My senior editor is brilliant.” She went on describing her week and within a few minutes they’d ended up, by unspoken agreement, on the couch in the living room. Arthur asked a few questions, but mostly he listened. They talked for so long that Arthur refilled both of their wineglasses.
“What about you?” she asked, surprised they’d focused so much of their conversation on her.
“Well, I have some news.” He held her gaze and took a long, deep breath. “I’ve decided to not seek reelection.”
“What?”
“I’m done, Angie. I’m ready, like you, for a new stage in my life.”
Sitting forward, she set her glass down. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I’m very serious.” He took a sip of wine. “It took a long while for it to sink in, but once it did, I can’t believe how quickly my head has turned around.”
“Why?”
“Quite simply. I want to be with you.”
“Why? Why this sudden change?”
“I was in my office earlier this week. It was a day like so many others the last twenty years. Meetings, conference calls, one crisis after another. Wilson came in and tossed the society section of the Post onto my desk. Separate pictures of you and me. Then several of various women. Speculation I’d had affairs.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No. No. It’s not your fault. Not for a moment. Wilson offered to call you to find out whether or not you’d seen the photos, and I told him not to bother. That you’d stopped watching the news or reading papers long, long ago. And that’s when it hit me…what you’ve had to deal with all these years because of my public life.
“I’m stubborn, I know, and it takes me a while to understand.” He smiled slightly. “But I realized you were right. For thirty years you gave me, our children, our family your life.” He reached out and ran his hand along her cheek. “So now is your time. It’s my time to stand on the sidelines supporting you.”
She almost couldn’t believe it, but then she remembered this was Arthur. The man she’d fallen in love with. The generous, passionate man she still loved. It really wasn’t surprising at all that once he’d made his mind up he’d wholeheartedly embraced his decision.
She kissed the palm of his hand.
He reached out to clink their wineglasses. “To exploring new horizons, Angie. Together.”