Let Me Love You Again (An Echoes of the Heart Novel Book 2) (23 page)

“Good. Because it’s more that got us into trouble the last time.”

She stretched onto her toes and kissed him softly. Because
more
of him was exactly what she needed before she headed home. He’d grabbed her yesterday while he was angry and frustrated. She couldn’t bear that being her last memory of them together. And then she couldn’t bear the thought of stopping . . .

He kept his hands in his pockets while she kissed him. But
his lips followed her lead. Then his tongue feathered across hers in a tentative way that had her shivering, seduced.

She eased back, remembering where they were and how many people might be witnessing her appalling lapse in judgment. And . . . she suddenly didn’t care about any of it, not while she watched the wonder, the need, spreading across Oliver’s face.

“We have to take one day at a time, right?” she warned. “That’s what we come to meetings to remember.”

“Focus on what we can control,” he agreed. “Let go of what we can’t.” He cupped her cheek the way he had her daughter’s. “Tell me you trust me, Selena.”

Except she didn’t. Or maybe she didn’t trust herself with him. But she did absolutely believe he cared about what happened next to Camille. And her daughter deserved to know the Dixons were her family, somehow.

Her hands shaking, wishing she was already home reading her daughter a bedtime story and shutting out everything but Camille’s love of fairy tales, Selena pulled her cell from her tote.

“I’ll meet,” she agreed. “Just to talk. Just the four of us. What day do you think would work?”

“Why don’t you shoot me a text”—Oliver snatched her phone away—“once you check your schedule? I’ll give you my number.”

He typed in his contact information and handed back her cell.

“Text me your number and some dates,” he prompted as she gaped at him. “I’ll see when Brad and Dru can meet and let you know. Beyond that, I’d only use your number for emergencies. Scout’s honor.”

He’d never been a Scout.

But she remembered him saying his mother had wanted him to be one as a little boy. Always prepared, always considerate, and putting others first, never backing away from a challenge. Someone
anyone could depend on. Exactly what he’d gone off and made himself into—at least for his clients.

She caught Oliver smirking at her sparkly Hello Kitty smartphone cover—the one Camille had picked out at a discount store. Selena texted him a vulgar suggestion, telling him what he could do with his opinion of her accessories. He read it out loud and laughed. Then he saved her in his contact list.

And it was done.

Just like that.

They were officially back in each other’s lives.

“It’s going to be okay this time,” he promised.

She tried with all her heart to believe that she wasn’t making an even bigger mistake with him than before.

Behind the wheel, she secured her seat belt as Oliver headed for his truck, tall and strong and in no hurry. Fred took his own sweet time getting with the program. She could feel Oliver waiting, watching while she turned the ignition three times before it caught. Oliver’s headlights were already on, his truck’s engine no doubt purring like a champ.

She pulled out of the lot, knowing he’d be behind her the whole way to Belinda’s. He’d always gotten her home safely when they’d been kids, even that last year on the nights they’d been so reckless. Especially on those nights, Oliver had always made sure she was okay.

I’ll love you forever, Selena, no matter what. I’m not like your dad. I’ll never leave you . . .

Chapter Fourteen

Marsha stood apart from her family at just past ten that night.

Dru and Travis were on the other side of the waiting room that was designated for immediate families of surgical patients. Marsha had asked for a few minutes to herself. She couldn’t remember the last time being in the company of her children didn’t bring her comfort. But tonight, feeling them close while their father was being wheeled into surgery made it impossible for her to focus on anything but what could be lost to all of them if Joe’s heart took another turn for the worse.

Somewhere in the bowels of Chandler Memorial, in some sterile operating room, a surgical team was preparing to crack her husband’s chest open. They’d stop his heart. A machine would circulate blood and oxygen through his body, circumventing his lungs. The damage threatening Joe’s life would be repaired—a procedure that would last for hours, perhaps until morning. And then he would be taken off bypass, and they’d wait, Dr. Kask had explained, to see
if
Joe’s heart would start beating again on its own.

There was every reason to believe all would go well. Patients successfully recovered from open-heart surgery all the time.
Except that there had been a lot of blockage. And Joe’s system was weak already.
And
there were no guarantees with any procedure, Kask had been careful to explain again in pre-op.

And that’s when Joe had taken Marsha’s hand, when a nurse had been administering the early anesthesia into his IV, to help him relax.

“It’s going to be fine,”
he’d said.
“You’ll see. Make sure you help the kids see.”

She would, she’d promised. And she’d been so glad to hug on Dru and Travis when she’d walked into the waiting room and seen them there. She’d been grateful Joe had seen Oliver earlier today, too. But what if . . . The
what if
s were driving her out of her mind.

She couldn’t get warm. She couldn’t think about anything but the feel of her husband’s fingers curled around hers, his brave smile as he’d drifted to sleep, and then her absolute terror when he’d been wheeled away, that she might never have him in her life again. She wouldn’t, she absolutely couldn’t, let her kids see her this way.

Despite the late hour, people from the community were downstairs in the main lobby, or sitting with their coffee or tea in the cafeteria. Folks had been calling since word spread about the bypass. Friends and neighbors she and Joe had known for decades. And it should have been a blessing.

But Marsha couldn’t face them either, wondering if by morning she might be greeting everyone for the first time without her husband, her life forever changed.

She stared out the waiting room windows, three stories up from the streetlights and trees below. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, trying to ward off the chill. Movement out of the corner of her eye startled her, before a reflection in the windows showed her who had come to stand beside her.

“Oh.”

Marsha wiped at her eyes. She turned to Belinda Rosenthal.

“How . . .” she stuttered. “How did you get up here?”

Belinda smiled. “I told the nurses I was family, and that I wasn’t leaving until they let me see you.”

“Oh.” Marsha tried to find the energy to be shocked.

But nothing was penetrating the images and descriptions of open-heart surgery she’d searched for online, on the tablet Dru had brought over days ago so Marsha had digital books to read while Joe slept.

Belinda inched closer. “I made sure no one else could hear when I talked with the nurses. Plenty of rumors are already flying around about our kids. People have seen them together enough to wonder what’s going on. I wouldn’t want to add to that. But I know a little more than my daughter’s thought about her and Oliver . . . and Camille. And I wanted you to know, especially tonight, that I’d be proud to have Oliver be Camille’s father, if that’s where we find ourselves. I’ve had my misgivings. I guess a part of me still does. Selena is in such an unsettled place right now. And I worry about Camille . . . but your son seems to have become a fine man.”

“Yes, he has.” Gratitude flooded Marsha for the effort Belinda was making. Their families had lived next to each other for decades. Belinda was as active in the community as her job allowed. Well respected. Considerate. But reaching out one-on-one had never been her strength.

“What’s it like?” Marsha asked.

“What?”

“Being a grandmother. This will be my first time.”

Belinda smiled again. “It’s the most wonderful thing in the world. And the hardest. Thinking about Selena and Camille
leaving as soon as my daughter can manage it, them being somewhere else where I can’t help them with their troubles anymore . . . that’s hard. My daughter’s just starting to get comfortable with us being in each other’s lives again. We’re getting past all the misunderstandings and mistakes—mostly mistakes I made. I’ll never be able to thank her enough for giving me this chance to know Camille. To love my granddaughter all the ways Selena never thought I could love her when she was little.”

“You’ve always loved your daughter with your whole heart. The best way you knew how.” Marsha turned back to the windows, both of them looking out now. “Healthy kids want their independence, even when their troubles are piling up. Some leave. Some stay. You’ll always miss them, and you can’t let them know how much. But if you love them unconditionally, they’ll find their way home again.”

“I missed her every day she was gone. When she finally called, I couldn’t let her see how much. Maybe I should have, but I didn’t want her feeling guilty for going off on her own.”

“It’s hard not to think you’ve done something wrong. All the time Oliver was out of our lives . . .”

“You and your husband give your kids the chance to be themselves, find themselves. And because of you, look at what Oliver’s become.”

“He’s done that with his own hard work.”

“Because you encouraged him,” Belinda insisted. “And you’ve never given up on him. He’s still figuring things out. I guess we all are. But you gave Oliver a solid start, even if it took some tough love.”

“And you’ve done the same for Selena.”

Belinda stared out at the night, as if she didn’t know what to believe.

“We love our kids,” Marsha said. “Even when they make it hard to. Even when they don’t know how to—”

“Trust us?” Belinda was rubbing her own arms. “I’ve given Selena so many reasons not to.”

“And a world of proof that she can. Especially these last few months. She’s stayed, Belinda. She and Camille are still here.”

“I’ve wondered for a long time about Camille’s father,” Belinda finally said. “I promised myself not to push Selena to take me into her confidence. I’ve learned at least that much with her. But I wanted you to know . . . especially now. I’d be proud if it turns out that our families are connected in such a wonderful way. And I wanted to say how sorry I am. You’ve missed precious time with Camille. Maybe I could have helped with that, if things between my daughter and me weren’t so strained.”

“Joe and I understood. When we began to suspect ourselves, we understood why you needed to keep your distance. Selena has to believe she can count on you first. That Chandlerville and your house are a safe place. I think she’s starting to. My husband and I will have our time with Camille.”

Marsha could feel it growing again. The certainty. The confidence that she’d get the chance to share this wonderful beginning moment with Joe—like they’d shared so many other new starts.

Belinda was finally opening the lines of communication about Selena and Oliver and Camille.
This
was hope. This was good. This was the sweet promise that came from friends and family caring for one another.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Marsha told her neighbor. “Joe and I have admired you from the moment you moved in next door and started transforming that yard of yours into a botanical paradise that would put to shame any of those fancy
gardens in Atlanta. You’ve put everything you have into everything you do, including loving your daughter and now your granddaughter. We’d be proud to have you as a part of our family. Not that we don’t already know how lucky we are to have you living next door.”

Belinda looked positively stricken for a second. And then Marsha was engulfed in a tight, determined, very un-Belinda-like hug.

“Your husband’s going to get to know his granddaughter one day very soon,” Belinda insisted as Marsha slipped an arm’s length away. They clasped each other’s hands. “And my garden club is going to throw Joe a fantastic Father of the Year party just as soon as he’s up to it. You wait and see.”