14 Valentine Place (29 page)

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Authors: Pamela Bauer

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BOOK: 14 Valentine Place
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It was signed “Sad in Saint Paul,” but Dylan knew who’d written it. Maddie. He anxiously read his mother’s reply.

Dear Sad in St. Paul: The secret of infidelity is a terrible burden for any child to bear. Is your boyfriend sure it
is
a secret? It could be that his mother knows about the affair but has never discussed it with him because she doesn’t realize he carries this burden. No matter what the reason, he needs to understand that infidelity is a choice, not a matter of genetics.

It only took a moment for Dylan to move into action. He unbuckled his seat belt and reached in the overhead compartment for his carry-on.

“Sir, are you all right?” the stewardess asked as he pushed his way past passengers continuing to board.

“I will be once I get off the plane,” he said as he strode toward the exit.

 

D
YLAN COULDN’T BELIEVE
what he’d done. He rarely acted on impulse, yet here he was sitting in his mother’s kitchen instead of flying back to Saint Martin.

The sound of the front door opening had his heartbeat increasing. He knew his mother would see his jacket hanging on the coat tree, notice his carry-on sitting next to the door.

As he expected, she burst into the kitchen with a look of surprise on her face. “Did you miss your plane?”

“Did you want me to? Is that why you gave me the paper to read this morning?”

She approached the table cautiously. “I always told myself I wouldn’t stick my nose in my kids’ love lives, but I knew we needed to talk, Dylan.”

“You know, don’t you.”

“That Maddie is ‘Sad in Saint Paul’? Yes. I know that food poisoning was nasty, but lucky for you it delayed your leaving and I could get her letter and my response into the paper before you left.”

He stood then and took her in his arms, holding her close. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry, Dylan.” She gently
eased away from him. “I didn’t realize you knew about your father.”

“Dad didn’t tell you?”

She shook her head and gestured for him to sit down beside her.

“But you knew about the affair? Didn’t you realize that it was the reason Dad and I had so much trouble that summer?”

“I didn’t learn about the affair until years after it was over. He never told me you knew and I never connected the two incidents. I thought the anger you always had toward your father was because the two of you were simply destined not to get along. You were so much alike,” she said, shaking her head reflectively. “It never occurred to me that you could have known.”

“He should have told you…or me,” he said soberly.

She nodded in agreement. “But I didn’t want to know the details. It was enough that he’d been unfaithful.”

“You forgave him.”

She nodded soberly. “But I never forgot.”

He gave her a puzzled look. “Then how can you act as if you had this wonderful, happy marriage?”

“Because it was wonderful and happy. Dylan, just because your father made one mistake doesn’t erase all the good things we shared. Don’t get me wrong. It hurt something awful to think that he went to another woman to get something I thought only I could give him.”

“Yet you stayed married to him.”

“Because I loved him and he was a good man. And I wasn’t willing to throw away twenty years of marriage because of one mistake he regretted immensely.” She studied his face. “You don’t understand, do you.”

“I want to, Mom, but…”

She reached for his hand. “There is no perfect love. We all want to think there is, but there isn’t. Love can be such an incredible high it often makes us believe we’ve got the best thing in the world.”

“Is this what you tell your clients?”

“I tell them to be honest. Honesty is the single most important ingredient in a relationship.”

“Then how could you forgive Dad?”

She sighed. “There is no easy answer, Dylan. I could have carried around the bitterness the rest of my life, but it wouldn’t have made me happy. What made me happy was surviving an incident that could have very well ended my life with your father. You may not realize this, but he paid dearly for his mistake. If I can let go of the pain, you should be able to.”

He wanted to.

“Why did you get off that plane, Dylan? For me…or for Maddie?”

When he didn’t reply, she leaned closer to him, “She thinks you won’t commit to her because of what you know about your father.”

“Is that what you think, too?”

She paused, as if debating whether to tell him what she thought. “I don’t think this is about your father.”

He leaned back in the chair, tipping back on two legs. “You don’t.”

“No, I think it’s about you. Ever since you were little you needed to be the one in control. You needed to be in charge. Love isn’t something you can control, Dylan. You put your heart at risk. You have to let someone else take care of something you’ve always guarded closely.”

Maddie hadn’t said those exact words, but the message had been implied that night when she’d stormed out of the hotel room. “I thought I was doing the right thing for Maddie…letting her go.”

“Maybe she doesn’t need for you to tell her what’s best.” She stood, smoothing the wrinkles from her skirt. “I’ve said more than a mother should say and I need to change my clothes. I have a speaking engagement.”

Dylan stood, too. “You said what needed to be said, Mom. Thanks.” He kissed her cheek.

“So what are you going to do now? You’re off the plane. It’s Valentine’s Day for another eight hours.”

“I think I’ll find a way to celebrate,” he said with a slow grin.

 

M
ADDIE THOUGHT
that the only good thing about Valentine’s Day was that the stores were filled with chocolate. One could go into any candy shop and buy as much of the deepest, darkest, richest chocolate as one pleased without anyone knowing they weren’t a gift for a Valentine, but a salve for a broken heart.

It’s what Maddie had done. As soon as she’d broken up with Dylan, she’d gone and bought the most expensive box of dark chocolates she could find and consoled herself by eating them one by one. As wonderful
as they’d been, they hadn’t taken away the ache in her heart.

She wondered if anything would do that.

Certainly being alone on Valentine’s Day didn’t help. She’d come home from work to an empty house, knowing that Krystal had a date and Leonie had gone to speak at a special Valentine’s dinner for residents of a convalescent home.

It’s what Maddie should have done—volunteered to help at any one of the charitable events happening across the city. It would have been better than sitting home stuffing her mouth with the treats she’d received at the dance studio that day.

She smiled as she looked at the assortment of paper Valentines and candies she’d dumped on the table. It was definitely one of the perks to her job—someone always remembered her on the holidays. Today her students had greeted her with cards and candies and even a flower or two. She picked up the wilting red rose and sniffed it, then sighed.

“You look the way I feel,” she mumbled to the flower, then set it aside so she could sort the treats she’d received. Chocolate kisses in one pile, candy hearts in another. But she kept seeing that wilting rose and finally, when she could no longer stand it, got up to put it in some water.

As she reached for a bud vase in the cupboard, she noticed an envelope on the counter. On the outside were the words, “To Sad in Saint Paul.”

Maddie’s heart leaped into her throat. Leonie had figured out that she was the one who’d written the letter.

Gingerly she lifted the flap and pulled open the sheet of paper. It was a typed response to her letter.

Dear Sad in Saint Paul: You are right. Your boyfriend is afraid to commit but not for the reason you think. This isn’t about his father, it’s about his feelings for you. He’s been using what happened with his father as an excuse not to face the real issue—which is, his inability to give up control of his heart to another person. Love has made him vulnerable. It’s also made him feel as if he could climb Mount Everest if it meant being with the woman of his dreams. You are that woman. If you’re willing to take the risk of being in love with such a guy, he could make this Valentine’s Day one you’ll never forget.

There was no signature.

Maddie’s heart pounded in her chest. She swallowed with great difficulty and tried to move, but her legs refused to take her anywhere. Cautiously she moved slowly out of the kitchen, down the hallway. She peeked into the living room, but it was empty. Then she walked toward Leonie’s office. The door was closed.

She paused before entering, her hand on the doorknob, her heart pounding. Finally she pushed open the door. As she expected, it wasn’t Leonie sitting behind the desk, but Dylan.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Maddie,” he said in a voice that had her rushing to meet him as he rose to his feet.

She nearly knocked him down as she threw herself
into his arms and kissed him with an urgency that had both of them clinging to each other for support.

“You didn’t leave,” she said as tears trickled down her cheeks.

“I didn’t leave,” he said, holding on to her as if he were worried she’d disappear.

“How did you know about my letter to Leonie?”

“Didn’t you see the paper?”

“She published it?”

“And a response…that had me jumping off the plane at the last minute. My mom is a wise woman, Maddie.”

“Yes, she is, and I will be forever grateful to her,” she said, staring up at his face. As long as she lived she didn’t think she’d ever get tired of looking at his face.

“I will forever be grateful that I found you,” he told her. “I love you, Maddie, and I don’t want to think of a future without you in it.”

“What are you asking me, Dylan?”

“To be mine.” He pulled a small box from his pocket and handed it to her. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She opened it and inside was gold locket in the shape of a heart, bearing the inscription ML Be Mine DD. “It’s beautiful.”

“Will you be mine? And I’m not talking about a long-distance relationship, Maddie. I want us to be together. Every day. Not just on weekends.”

For an answer she kissed him tenderly, then said, “Then we’ll work it out. I have no roots here, Dylan. I love your mother as if she were my own, but my sisters don’t live here. I’d follow you wherever your work takes you.”

He kissed her back. “I don’t know if I deserve you. I hurt you that night at the hotel. I’m sorry, Maddie.”

“What happened, Dylan? We were so happy together when that evening started. Then we went to Shane’s, and the next thing I knew you were pulling away from me.”

“I was scared of what I saw when you held Tom and Judy’s baby.”

“And you started worrying that I would get pregnant?”

He shook his head. “No, the panic set in when I started fantasizing about what it would be like if you had my baby. You looked so natural, so right holding that little baby…”

“I never said I wanted to have children, Dylan.”

“Do you?”

She knew this was where the risky part came in. She needed to be honest. “Someday.”

He smiled then. “Good, because I want them, too. Spending these past six weeks here, I’ve realized that as great as it is to live on an island where the weather is always warm and the only responsibility I have in life is my work, I’ve missed being a part of this family.”

“So we can have kids someday?”

“Someday. But first, I need you to be mine and only mine.” From behind him on the desk, he reached for a box and handed it to her. Inside were the letters
I LUV U
in chocolate. “I promise to always be true.”

“That’s all I need…and a little chocolate now and then.”

ISBN: 978-1-4592-4355-2

14 VALENTINE PLACE

Copyright © 2002 by Pamela Muelhbauer.

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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