Now and Forever 4, The Renovated Heart (14 page)

“I run a construction company.”

“Oh. So you know a lot about fixing
things?”

“I’m primarily a builder, but I fix things
and paint walls. Your mother is helping me. It’s too big a job for
one person.”

“My mother? She can’t fix stuff…can’t do
much of anything…useful.”

“She’s doing okay so far. I think we should
give her a chance.”

“I wouldn’t. She ruins everything,” Zoe
said, staring pointedly at her mom.

Kit’s cheeks burned, she blinked rapidly
then turned away.

“That’s not a nice thing to say about your
mother.”

“What do you know about her? You’re just her
landlord.”

“I’m her friend, too,” he said, flashing a
warm smile at Kit.

“Mom, you said he wasn’t your boyfriend,”
the girl said.

“He isn’t!” she insisted.

“How could she have a boyfriend when
she’s…”

“How about dessert? I made your favorite,
apple pie, Zoe.” Kit interrupted, changing the subject.

“I love your mom’s apple pie, too,” he
said.

“Oh, so you’re here eating apple pie with
her?” The girl narrowed her eyes.

“A snack after I’m through working,” he
said, a note of guilt creeping into his voice.

Kit served the apple pie. The only sound was
the clinking of forks against plates.

“When do you think you’ll be coming back,
Zoe?” Her mother asked.

“I don’t know. I’m on the basketball team.
We have practice. Maybe you could come to a game?”

“I’d love to.” She took the last bite of pie
on her plate.

“You can bring your boyfriend, too, if you
want,” Her daughter said, looking at Tunney.

“I told you, he’s
not
my boyfriend,”
Kit said, putting down her fork.

“Whatever.” Zoe finished her pie and
deposited her dish in the sink.

Kit finally got Tunney on his way, drove her
daughter back to school then returned home. After the tension of
keeping her daughter away from the
husband
clothes, plus
worrying about the young girl revealing the divorce, Kit took a
bottle of wine and a glass to the third floor. A dose of Mary’s
strength would be welcome indeed.

Letter number twenty

Dear Dan,

It’s Thanksgiving Day. I’m trying like heck
to find something to be thankful for. If I knew you were still
alive it would be so much easier. I’m going to Alice and Jack’s
this year because your folks are driving to Virginia to be with
your brother. They can’t take it here. I don’t blame them.

I’ll be glad when the day is over. I have to
remember to bring home some turkey for Lucky and Samson. I guess I
am thankful for them this year. Sometimes I think postponing having
a child was a mistake. If I can’t have you now or maybe ever again,
then at least I could have had your child. Unfortunately, I can’t
change the past.

I think of you every morning when I get up.
Sometimes early in the morning, fresh from sleep, I don’t remember
you are missing. I think you’re in the bathroom or putting coffee
on.

I guess if I really try hard I could be
thankful for having had you in my life for as much time as I have
already and for the love we’ve shared.

I’m praying you are warm, have enough food
and are coming back to me soon, Dan. I miss you so much.

All my love,

Mary

* * * *

In the morning, Kit took her coffee to the
parlor. She stood at the window watching the leaves blow in a
strong gust of fall wind. As she sipped, a story idea entered her
head and began to form the shape of a book. Kit sat down at her
computer for the first time since her arrival in Willow Falls and
began to write. Tunney called.

“I’ve got to go out of town this week. I’ll
be back on Friday. We can continue our renovation then.”

“Okay. I’m writing, see you next
weekend.”

By one o’clock, Kit needed a break. She
called Sarah.

“So glad you’re writing. Awesome!”

“This idea has taken over my life.” She sat
back on the loveseat in the parlor and propped her feet up on the
small coffee table.

“What about Tunney?”

“He’s away for a week.”

“But when he comes back…front and center,
right?”

“I’m still stuck...” Kit chewed a
fingernail.

“But you want…to be with him, don’t
you?”

“Doesn’t matter what I want…” She hugged her
knees to her chest.

“You’ve got to come clean.”

“I can’t. Not yet. I’ll lose him if he knows
I lied. I’d rather have him as a friend than not at all. How’s
Jim?”

“He’s here every night now. Laura sets the
table for four without me reminding her.”

“So when are you moving in together?”

“I don’t know. I’m still…cautious. Ya
know?”

“Yeah. I know. Go for it.” After she hung up
the phone the idea of being with Tunney stuck in her mind.
No
time now. Write first.
She sighed, refilled her mug then
returned to her computer. Instead of being afraid of filling empty
days until his return, Kit found herself immersed in work and
spending time reading Mary’s letters, then writing her book. She
took the idea of the letters, turning it into a love story about a
man, Nick, an undercover agent in the CIA, secretly engaged to a
teacher, Katherine. Nick went abroad on a dangerous hush-hush
assignment for a year with no contact with anyone allowed. His
sweetheart wouldn’t know if he was dead or alive. Her heroine wrote
him letters to keep their love alive. In between the letters, Kit
wrote about Nick’s dangerous work. She called the book,
Dangerous Love Letters.

Even three days of rain didn’t distract her.
Preoccupied reading Mary’s letters, writing her own love letters
and her new book, she barely remembered to eat. Her agent, Diana,
loved the idea, and anxiously awaited the first draft.

Kit broke her routine to watch her daughter
play in a school basketball game. Afterward, they returned to the
old Victorian for a hot meal.

“This pot roast is great, Mom.” Zoe cut
another piece. She scooped up some mashed potatoes with her fork to
go with the tempting meat. “Where’s Tunney?”

“He’s out of town. Have you heard from your
father?”

“He’s okay. I know you want to get back
together with him.”

“Where did you get that idea?”

“Daddy said so.”

“He did? He’s wrong. I have no interest in
getting back together with him.”

“Even if he asked you really, really
nice?”

“Even if he asked me really, really
nice.”

Zoe looked down at her food.

“I enjoyed watching you play basketball.
You’re talented.”

“I’m the tallest on the team.”

“You get your height from your father.”

“I miss him. Would it be okay if I spent
Christmas vacation with him, alone? He wants to take me skiing in
Switzerland!”

“I guess you can’t turn that down.”

Kit coughed to cover the catch in her
voice.

“The trip would be for the whole two weeks
of vacation.”

“Then you won’t be home at all during the
Christmas break…” Suddenly her mouth felt dry.

“But I can see you anytime. I don’t get much
time with Dad.”

“Thanksgiving?”

“Can we have it here?”

“Of course.”

“Are you going to invite your
boyfriend?”

“Tunney?”

“Do you have more than one?”

“He’s
not
my boyfriend.”

“Right, Mom…if you say so,” Zoe
snickered.

* * * *

The next day, Kit couldn’t write. She had
been getting over Johnny being gone but now Zoe would be gone for
Christmas. Christmas alone. Kit got nauseous. She retreated to the
third floor seeking solace in Mary’s letters.

Letter number twenty-nine

Dear Dan,

I’ve been thinking about cancelling
Christmas this year. It’s one week away. I don’t have the strength
to even decorate a tree. I can’t bear to look through our box of
ornaments. Your parents agree with me. But your brother Tom, Cassie
and their kids will be celebrating. Christmas really is for
kids.

I’ll be buying presents for them. Of course
I’m going to buy you a new flannel shirt, like I do every year.
I’ll put it away with your birthday present to give to you when you
get back. I don’t think I can do more.

I can’t even watch our favorite holiday
movies because I’m so sick of crying. I’m going to find the
funniest movie I can. Go see it on Christmas day. I keep telling
myself Christmas is only one day, but that’s not true. Christmas is
all the things we do every year, the baking, visiting friends,
buying funny presents. It’s so painful this year I can hardly stand
it.

Then I remember you may not have food or a
warm blanket or you might be injured and I get sick to my stomach
over my pettiness. I’ll have Christmas when you are back in my arms
again, Dan.

Love,

Mary

Kit admitted to herself her daughter was
right; her father hadn’t seen her in a long time. If Mary could
survive Christmas without Dan, she could survive Christmas without
Zoe.

Letter number thirty

Dear Dan,

On Christmas Eve, I went caroling. Some of
us shared hot chocolate with some children in need through Kiwanis.
The Kiwanis men and their wives also had a Christmas party for the
same kids. I helped out there on Christmas Day. Sure made the day
go faster. Better than staying home, feeling sorry for myself!

I went to see The Owl and the Pussycat in
the evening on Christmas Day. I had the first laughs I’ve had in a
long time. All in all, I survived. Maybe did a little good for a
few people.

You were in my thoughts constantly over the
holiday. I hope you haven’t lost so much weight I don’t recognize
you. I liked your body the way it was. I’ve started clipping new
recipes I see in the newspaper, saving them to make for you. We’ll
put meat back on your bones as soon as you get home.

I keep writing letters to Mr. Nixon to get
you home, but no reply as yet. I pray for you. Come home to me,
Dan.

Love,

Mary

* * * *

October flew by in a flurry of writing for
Kit. Running his construction business took up most of Tunney’s
time. Renovation got squeezed into busy schedules on nights and
weekends. She called him in to dinner.

“You did a pretty fair job painting today,”
he said sitting down at the kitchen table.

“Fair job? Some compliment!”

“You know what I mean. You’re doing okay,
better than I thought.” He placed his napkin in his lap.

“Don’t bowl me over with your enthusiasm,”
she said, turning off the stove.

“Come on, Kit.” Tunney raised his
shoulders.

“I’m glad you think I’m doing okay. Better
than Zoe, anyway.” She sat across from him.

“You know I think…I think…you’re very
talented.” His gaze dropped from her face to the platter of food
she carried.

“Dinner’s ready. Poor man’s beef
stroganoff.”

“Smells great. I haven’t had home-cooked
meals in a long time.” He sat up straight.

“I like cooking for you. You eat without
complaining.”

“You’re a good cook.” Tunney helped himself
to a big portion of the tempting mixture of beef, noodles and
sauce.

“I’ll bet you say that to all your
painters.” she batted her lashes at him.

“If you can give up the computer for a bit
tomorrow, I’ll replace the broken pane of glass in the parlor.”

“Done. By the way, Zoe’s coming for
Thanksgiving. Will most of the renovation be done by then?”

“The dining room will…if I move it up on the
list.”

“Will you?”

“For you, anything.” He kissed her hand.
When his gaze met hers, she saw desire flickering in his dark eyes.
Her pulse quickened. She wished he’d take her in is arms but he
looked away instead.

* * * *

Kit liked being busy, less time to wallow in
self-pity or think about how much she wanted Tunney. Immersing
herself in Mary’s letters when not writing helped. Some days she’d
spend hours on the third floor, reading, then join him on the
weekends, renovating.

A week later, she got up four steps on the
step ladder to blue tape the molding in the living room, in
preparation for painting. She didn’t see one leg of the ladder
rested on a small piece of wood lying on the floor. The ladder
wobbled before it toppled.

“Tunney!” She screamed as the ladder
teetered then fell sideways. He appeared in time to catch her as
she fell, landing on him, knocking him backward onto the sofa. His
hands stretched out to catch her as she careened face-first into
him.

For a moment they lay there, staring into
each other’s eyes, Kit on top of him, her chest squished against
his hand. He couldn’t help himself, his fingers closed around her
breast as if they had a mind of their own. He leaned forward to
kiss her while he squeezed gently... His lips were soft against
hers, teasing her. His mouth paralyzed her while it seduced her.
After a minute to two, she came to her senses and broke from his
kiss, pushing herself up and away.

“We shouldn’t be…”

Want glittered in the dark pools of his
eyes.

“I’m not sorry,” he said, pushing up before
walking away from her.

She put her hand on his arm to stop him.

“What do you mean?”

“Aw, come on, Kit. We’ve both wanted me to
do that for a long time now.”

“Who says?”

“It’s true,” he said, looking at her with
heat in his eyes.

“You think I want you to…to…touch me
like…”

“Don’t tell me you don’t feel it?”

“Feel what?” She pretended not to know what
he was talking about.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“I’m afraid you do.”