Daniel's Gift (36 page)

All the nights she had sat alone at home waiting for him raced through her mind. She had been loyal and trusting, and he had played her for a fool.

"My God, Merrilee. What the hell are you doing here?" Richard demanded. Fury was written in every line of his face, along with some other emotion Merrilee didn't have time to define.

"What the hell are you doing with her?" Anger boiled over at Richard's attack. He was in the wrong. She was in the right. Damn him.

"She's my secretary. We're working on a project."

"Like hell you are. You bastard. I'm glad to know you take your marriage vows so seriously."

"You take them seriously enough for both of us. Only the part about keeping your husband happy -- "

"Shut up. Shut up. And you -- get out." Mortified at Richard's taunt, Merrilee grabbed Blair by the arm and literally threw her out of the office. "Now, you listen to me," she said to Richard. "You've been cheating on me for months. Do you think I'm stupid? You arrogant, son of a bitch -- "

"Stop it, Merrilee. You're acting hysterical."

"Hysterical?" she yelled. "You think I'm hysterical?"

Richard took a step back. "Just calm down."

"I don't want to calm down. I want your head on a fucking platter."

Richard's jaw dropped open in astonishment. Merrilee walked over to his desk, picked up his coffee cup and hurled it at his head. Richard ducked, and the cup smashed against the wall.

"Jesus Christ, Merrilee. What are you doing?"

Merrilee gathered all the papers off his desk and dumped them into the trash can.

"Hey, those are important."

She ignored him, pulling out the desk drawers and systematically dumping them out on the floor. It felt good to trash Richard's office. He was ruining her life. Why the hell shouldn't he suffer a little bit?

"Now, Merrilee, let's talk about this -- at home," he added. "This is my office. My business."

"Funny, you didn't look like you were conducting business a minute ago." Merrilee headed to the coffee table. The red lipstick around the rim of the wineglass drove her further over the edge. She picked up the glass and tossed the contents into Richard's face. "I think you're the one who needs to cool off."

Richard sputtered, wiping his face with his shirtsleeve. Before he could recover completely, Merrilee yanked at his trousers and dumped the second glass of wine down his pants. He gasped as the cold liquid hit his skin.

"Goddammit," he shouted. "You're fucking crazy."

"You bet I am. I'm sick and tired of this, Richard. You've been taunting me for months. I won't take it anymore. You want a divorce, you've got one."

The words were out of her mouth before she could even consider the seriousness of what she had said. But as they echoed around the room, some of her anger disappeared, replaced by fear. Richard stared at her in shock.

"A divorce? You want a divorce?"

Merrilee wrapped her arms around her body. "I was hoping you'd get over this midlife crisis, or whatever it is you're going through. Apparently, that's not going to happen. I can't put up with any more of your cheating."

"I didn't think you'd noticed. I was beginning to think you didn't care one way or the other."

"I don't."

"Liar."

His muttered word drew her head up. "I don't care about you. Right now I hate you."

"If you hated me, you wouldn't be here. My God, Merrilee, I've never seen you act like this. You're always so cool, so controlled."

"I'm human, Richard. And I have feelings. How could you do this to me? To us? I loved you. I gave you everything."

"Merrilee ..." He reached out to touch her. She knocked his hand away.

"Leave me alone. Just leave me alone." She ran out of the office and didn't stop running until she reached her car. With shaky fingers, she slipped the key into the lock and got inside. She made it out of the parking lot and down one block before the tears came. Then she pulled over and cried, long, cleansing tears that had been building up for a lifetime.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Luke pulled the car into the parking lot of the Marina Green. It was almost midnight, and the lot was empty, save for a few tourists enjoying a spectacularly clear winter night. Jenny opened her door and got out. Luke followed her down to the sea wall where the waves from the San Francisco Bay lapped against the shore.

Off to their left was the Golden Gate Bridge, red in actual color, but no less breathtaking in the moonlight. In the middle of the bay was Alcatraz Island and somewhere, although he couldn't see it clearly, was Angel Island.

Angel. The word made him glance to the heavens. Where are you tonight, Danny? Lying in the hospital bed or soaring through the sky with your friend Jacob?

"This is peaceful," Jenny said, resting her head against his arm. "I love being outside. Danny does, too. From the day I brought him home when he was a baby, as soon as he'd start to cry, I'd take him out on the porch, and he'd shut up faster than an oyster guarding its pearl." She laughed at the memory.

"It's nice to hear you laugh. It's been a long time."

"I feel better tonight. I don't know why. It's strange. Sometimes when I'm away from the hospital, I feel closer to Danny than when I'm there. Isn't that odd?"

Luke shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. He wanted to tell Jenny that he had seen Danny. But saying the words out loud seemed absurd. Danny was in a coma. He was not cavorting around as an angel. Luke didn't believe in angels, or for that matter, in God. At least he hadn't believed -- before now.

Looking up into the stars, on a night like this, holding the woman he loved in his arms, Luke began to think all things were possible.

"You're quiet," Jenny said. "Maybe we should go."

"We have time."

"What did your parents say when you told them about Danny?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Not much."

"Don't try to spare my feelings. I want to know."

Luke didn't know what to say. He didn't want to hurt Jenny any more than he already had, but he couldn't hide the truth from her. She would see right through him. Finally, he said, "My father thinks you're after my money, and my mother thinks that adding a son to my life would complicate things."

"She's right."

"It's my life."

"What about your wife? Does she want children?"

His stomach turned over at the question. He still couldn't believe what Denise had done. "Funny you should ask," he said bitterly. "Denise got a tubal ligation last month without telling me."

Jenny stepped away from him, startled by his words. "She did? Without telling you?"

"That's correct. I found out by accident. She figured she'd just never get pregnant, and that would be that. One of those little ironies you were talking about. I had the chance to be a father to Danny all those years ago. Now he's in intensive care, and I'll probably never have another child. I think you just got the last laugh."

"I'm not laughing."

And she wasn't. She was looking at him with an intensity that was pure Jenny -- bold, truthful, honest, and forgiving. He realized it then -- she had forgiven him, and for the life of him he couldn't understand why.

"You should be laughing," he said harshly. "I ruined your life."

She did smile then. "Giving me Danny didn't ruin my life. He's the best part of my life. He anchors me, and you know how much I need an anchor."

"I don't know about that. I thought if there was a human being on this earth who could fly, it would be you."

"Me?" she asked in wonder. "I'm a mere mortal, Luke. You were the one who always soared higher than everyone else."

"I didn't soar. I climbed up the ladder, one foot after another, relentlessly on and on and on." He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling incredibly weary. "I couldn't get off. I couldn't stop. Something was pushing me up that ladder, like a hamster that can't get off the damn wheel, even if it kills him."

"What was driving you, Luke?"

"Fear." He opened his eyes and looked at her. "I was terrified that if I stopped, I'd fall into oblivion where no one would care about me." He tried to laugh, because his words sounded dark, lonely, vulnerable. Jenny wasn't buying it.

"You can't be what you aren't, Luke."

"I'm beginning to realize that."

Luke pulled a stand of her hair away from her face. It was a tender, loving gesture. He wanted to have more moments like this, times when he could talk to her about anything and know she wouldn't judge him.

"Jenny?"

She looked at him inquiringly. "Luke?"

He smiled. "What about your dreams? I just realized I don't even know what you do for a living."

"I'm a checkout cashier at McDougal's Market in Half Moon Bay. I've been there seven years now. Talk about a hamster on a wheel. But it pays most of my bills. I work some nights at the Acapulco Lounge serving cocktails, mostly to my brother," she said wryly, "and in my spare time, I make jewelry that I hope will one day make me a rich and famous artisan. Right now, it pretty much just pays for Little League."

Luke looked at her for a long moment, incredibly touched by her matter-of-fact explanation of her life. She made it sound so much easier than he knew it had to be.

"You're something else," he murmured.

"Not really." Her face turned serious. "Your parents were right, Luke. I didn't grow up to be anybody special. Not like you."

"Thank God," he said fervently. "And don't sell yourself short, Jenny. During the last two weeks, you've impressed the hell out of me. You have so much strength and courage. Where did it all come from?"

"Danny," she said simply. "I had a child. I had to take care of him. And I didn't do it alone. Merrilee helped in the beginning, almost too much. And Matt gave me money. I tried not to depend on them, but sometimes I didn't have a choice." She took a deep breath. "Anyway, the past is past, right? Want to see some of my jewelry?"

"I'd love to." Actually, he wanted to take her in his arms and promise that she would never have to struggle for anything again, that he would give her money and a house and a car and anything else she and Danny needed. But he didn't say a word, because he could see the pride in her eyes, and he didn't want her to think that she was anything but a success.

Jenny pulled a necklace out from under her sweater. "I made this piece just before Danny got hurt."

Luke touched the coral-colored shell necklace with a reverent gesture. "It's lovely. Different."

"That's me, different." She shrugged her shoulders. "My friend Pru thinks I should try to sell the jewelry a little more aggressively than at the local art fair. I've been considering it for a while." She shook her head. "I used to think I had so much time to do what I wanted to do. Then this happened, and I realized everything could end in a second." She paused. "Danny helps me collect the shells and rocks. We've been doing it together since he was old enough to walk. I'm not sure I can do it without him. I'm not sure I can fill the couple of orders that I have before Christmas. Oh God, Luke." Her face tightened with fear. "Everything in my life revolves around Danny. How can I lose him?"

"You can't and you won't. Maybe I could help you."

Fear was replaced by amazement. "You, a business tycoon and successful doctor, want to help me look for seashells on the beach?"

"Why not?"

"Why?"

"Because you'd be there." Because I have a feeling I'd find more on the beach than just seashells. Like a reason for being. Like a love that I thought was gone forever.

"Luke, I can't -- "

"Sh-sh. Don't say it."

"I don't know what you want from me." Jenny looked at him searchingly.

He wanted her love, her passion, everything she had to give, especially her trust. But what he didn't want to do was scare her. It was too soon, too fast, so he said nothing.

"Do you mind if we walk awhile?" Jenny didn't wait for an answer.

They strolled in silence past the St. Francis Yacht Club and the harbor, closer to the lights on the Golden Gate Bridge. After a while, Jenny slipped her arm through his. They stopped at the end of the path, just beneath the bridge, awed by its majesty.

"We're so small, so insignificant," Jenny said.

"I don't know about that. The bridge wouldn't have been built without man's talents."

Jenny smiled at him. "Always so logical. I feel close to you, Luke, as if the years in between were nothing more than a second when we didn't see each other. How can that be? I should hate you."

"You should."

"I don't, and you don't hate me either, even though I never told you about your son."

"As if I could." His voice was husky, filled with emotion. He wanted to stop it, prevent her from seeing how much she affected him, but it was impossible. His senses were filled with the sight of her. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted it so badly any thought of stopping was beyond his control.