Second Chance Pass (20 page)

“I never meant that. I never meant to—” Carol swallowed. “I thought Cameron was perfect for you….”

“Cameron knew about me and Paul. What in the world did you tell him to get him here for dinner?”

“I…ah…I told him Paul was dropping you off and
you’d love to see him. I didn’t think I was making it up—you said Paul coming back here from Virgin River was a perfect opportunity to visit us and—”

Vanni was shaking her head. “Why don’t you just
ask
if I’d like Cameron to join us for dinner? More to the point, why don’t you listen?”

“I do listen,” she said, insulted.

“No. You don’t listen. When I say I don’t want coral bridesmaids’ dresses, you buy them and dress up my girls in them. When I say I don’t want to be set up, you invite the man to dinner not once, but twice. When I say I’m staying with Paul and he’ll bring me to dinner, you plan your own party without asking, without listening. For heaven’s sake, Cameron is a wonderful man who didn’t deserve what just happened to him. And that you would humiliate Paul after knowing him for so many years, after knowing how he loved your only son, treating him like he’s my chauffeur, offering to set another place like he’s some last-minute addition to your private little dinner party…”

“I just couldn’t imagine it. Not Paul,” she said.

Lance appeared, coming out of the kitchen with his grandson cuddled against his chest, and the expression on his face was not a happy one. Carol said, “I was trying to help…. Maybe Mattie could benefit by being raised by a doctor. Instead of…” She glanced away uncomfortably.

Vanni laughed suddenly and hollowly. Here the woman was in real estate and had no concept of how successful the man who built some of the finest houses in the region might be. And that was nothing compared to the fact that Paul was the most incredible human being, and would be the most wonderful father. “Paul is such a catch, you can’t even imagine, but I’m not going to waste your time. Carol, I’m sick of the way you take over and I won’t have it
anymore.” She walked toward Lance and reached for the baby just as Paul was coming in the front door. “I’m sorry, Lance, but we’re leaving. This was horrendous, and I’m never going through anything like this again.” She looked over her shoulder at Paul, who stood across the room, just inside the door. In his eyes she saw warmth and understanding. Patience. Kindness. Everything was going to be okay.

Vanni walked over to Paul. She turned at the door and said, “Carol, you should be more considerate of people’s feelings. What you did tonight was in bad taste, it’s beneath you.” And with that they left the house.

The next night was dinner with the Haggertys and Vanessa was tense. After what she’d been through with Carol Rutledge, she couldn’t imagine what kind of paces these people might put her through. The fact that Paul was so down-to-earth and kind didn’t reassure her much. After all, Matt had been so charming and fun, yet Carol could be a nightmare. When Paul drove up to the large, stately home in the beautiful countryside, Vanni gulped. Another big house. She knew their family business was successful, but at this point their obvious prosperity was making her nervous. It seemed to be the fulcrum on which so many opinions were balanced. Opinions that had little to do with the true quality of life.

But this was a whole different scene. Marianne Haggerty rushed to the front door when she heard them pulling up, drying her hands on a dish towel that she immediately flung over her shoulder. She was a short, round woman with steel-gray hair and a beautiful complexion. Her smile was effervescent and she had the most wonderful, engaging dimples. Right behind her was a tall, handsome man, Paul’s height, with Paul’s sandy-colored hair, strung with gray.

Marianne gave Paul a peck on the cheek and then quickly focused on the baby, reaching for him. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “Matt’s baby, how luscious. Oh, Vanessa—it’s so wonderful to finally meet you! Matt was so precious to us—we loved him so. Can I hold him? Please?”

“Of course,” Vanni said with a smile, handing him over.

Like grandparents, Marianne and Stan were focused on the baby, smiling and cooing and snuggling, almost ignoring Paul and Vanni. And then, surprisingly, Marianne began to tear up. Then weep. Stan put a strong arm around her shoulders, holding her and the baby against his big chest, murmuring to her, “All right, honey. Don’t get started…” And then his eyes welled and a tear ran down his weathered cheek and they were wiping at each other’s cheeks while cuddling the baby.

“Okay, you two,” Paul said. “Let’s not get going. Don’t upset Vanni.”

“I’m sorry,” Marianne said immediately. She looked at Vanessa with wet eyes. “You’ll just never know how grateful I am for this chance to see him, to hold him. We loved Matt so much. I always felt that he was one of my boys.”

“Mom, if you don’t get under control, I’ll take the baby,” Paul threatened.

Vanni laid a hand on his arm and shook her head at him, a small smile playing on her lips. This was good for her—Carol and Lance didn’t get choked up like this. There was no question in her mind that the Rutledges loved their grandson, but their restraint was sometimes hard to endure, especially during those times she was feeling emotional.

“Beer,” Paul said. “We need beer. And control.”

Stan let go with a hearty though shaky laugh. “Great recipe for control,” he said. “Beer. Come on, come on in.”
He reached for Vanni’s hand and pulled her into the house, wiping clumsily at his cheeks.

She was led through the foyer, past a gorgeous and huge great room with a beautiful marble fireplace, past a large dining room and huge kitchen, out onto a redwood deck that was furnished with handsome wicker patio furniture that would be as much at home in a living room as outdoors.

“This is an amazing house,” Vanni said.

“We’ll give you the tour later if you want one,” Stan said. “A builder’s house has to be a good house—people look at that. It’s way more than we need, for sure, but Marianne wants room for the family. What can I get everyone?”

“I’d love a beer,” Vanni said, sitting in one of the chairs outside.

Marianne followed, still clutching the baby possessively, holding him against her. “Sure, sweetie,” she said to her husband without ever taking her eyes off the baby. She migrated to a chair near Vanessa while Paul went with his dad to get beer. “He’s so beautiful,” she said. “So sweet. Is he a good baby?”

“He is,” Vanni said. “Sleeps through the night and is hardly ever in a bad mood. But of course he gets a lot of attention, so I’m sure when he’s older, I’ll be in for it.”

“No, you can’t give a baby too much attention.”

“Paul tells me you have five grandchildren.”

“Yes,” she said. “Three boys, two girls. They’re brilliant, each one. Oh, I could eat this little one up!” Marianne turned her eyes toward Vanni and said softly, “I’m so sorry for your loss, Vanessa. We miss him, too.”

“Thank you. I remember your card and flowers.”

“It was so wonderful for Paul to be with you when this one was born. He talks about it.”

She laughed. “Does he tell you about how hard he tried to get out of it?” she asked just as Paul came back onto the deck to hand her a beer. He stood behind her chair and that hand was again on her shoulder.

“He doesn’t admit to that, but it doesn’t surprise me,” his mother said.

Vanni reached up to caress the hand that possessed her. And it wasn’t until that moment that Marianne’s expression changed and she exchanged looks with her husband.

“Yes, Mom,” Paul said. “Once I told Vanni what wonderful grandparents you two are, she agreed to marry me. She even agreed to more children. So you see—I’m not going to die a lonely old man after all.” Vanni looked up at him and saw that his smile was soft.

“Oh,” Marianne let go in a surprised breath. “Oh, how long has this been going on?”

“For me, quite a while,” Paul said. “Vanni just gave up the fight a little while ago. But I think she can convince you she’s happy.”

Smiling, Vanni said, “I’m happy. Very happy.”

Stan stuck out a hand to his son. “Congratulations, son. This is good news.” Then he stooped to put a kiss on Vanni’s cheek. “Welcome, daughter,” he said. “It’s an honor. An honor.”

All Marianne said was, “Excellent. I don’t have to let go of this baby for a second!” Then her face sobered and she said, “Oh, forgive me, Vanessa! I’m so happy to have you in the family.” She grinned happily and said, “You
and
the baby!”

It wasn’t long before the rest of the Haggerty family arrived—Mitch and Jenny and their three kids, North and Susan and their two—the women bearing food to contribute to a big family dinner. Vanni was welcomed warmly
with hugs, everyone offering their condolences for Matt’s death since the boys had grown up together. The baby was fussed over and passed from woman to woman. In no time Paul had charge of the baby while Vanni joined the women in the kitchen getting the meal on the table.

Dinner with eight adults, five kids and a baby is a loud affair, but Vanni felt so much more comfortable in the chaos than she ever had at the Rutledges’. Paul’s mother, she thought, has such an ideal existence, surrounded by loving family, her life filled with happy noise and small children’s arms around her.

This,
Vanni thought.
This is what I want to do next.

Before dinner was consumed, Stan stood and raised a glass to toast Vanessa and Paul’s engagement. Excited whoops and hugs followed with questions about the when and where, to which Vanni and Paul could only answer, “The sooner the better. After all—we’ve known each other for years.”

When dinner was over, the cleanup and female chatter continued, and Vanni pitched in happily. It was during this time that she stole a look at Paul, out on the deck with his father and brothers, jiggling Mattie against his chest, trying to keep him from getting too fussy as he waited for his mother’s attention. Mattie was squirming anxiously, ready for a feeding, but Paul was completely comfortable and confident.

When the last dish was put up, Vanni asked Marianne if she could borrow a bedroom to nurse the baby. “Of course, sweetheart,” the older woman answered. “But no one in this family is uncomfortable with a nursing mom, not even the children. Do whatever you’d rather—take a bedroom or sit with us, it’s entirely up to you. We’re kind of homespun around here.”

“What about the men?” Vanni asked.

“They’re even less uncomfortable.” North’s wife laughed. “The first time I put Angie to the breast, demurely covered by a blanket, Stan walked right over to me, lifted the blanket and said, ‘Marianne, honey, come and see how good this little critter sucks!’”

“Oh, my,” Vanni said. “Think they’ll stay outside a while?”

“I think Stan will give you time to get used to us before he pulls his tricks,” Marianne said with a smile. “Not much time, though—take that as fair warning.”

So Vanni went to collect her son from Paul and chose the great room, settling with the women, who had a hundred questions about Vanni and Paul and how the whole romance came to be.

On the deck, Paul was talking to his business partners, his family. “I think there’s money to be made in Virgin River and the surrounding towns. When Jack was looking for a contractor to help him finish his house, he couldn’t find one, which was what brought me down there.” He grinned. “That and all the overtime he paid.”

“How would you prefer to do it?” Mitch asked.

“I could extend the company into another branch and we could participate in any profits, or I could use my house equity to start my own company, since the house is paid for. I leave that to you.”

“You have plenty of stock in Haggerty Construction,” Stan said. “If you want to cash out…”

“I don’t want to pull money out of your company, Dad.”

“It’s not mine, son. We’ve all put a lot of sweat equity into this operation—it’s ours. We back each other up.”

“Vanni would move up here if I asked her to. But I have interests there. There are building contracts, there’s Vanni’s dad, who’s alone now. And… Well, there’s Matt. I want
Mattie to have a connection to his dad, to know everything about what a great man he was.” He shrugged. “We’re close to Grants Pass—it’s not a bad drive. If I hang on to the house, we could come back up here to work if there aren’t contracts down there. You know I wouldn’t be a stranger. But God, Dad, it’s a beautiful place. I’d love to raise a family there. I’d love to live there with my wife and children.”

“Then we’ll set you up, son. Sounds like a place primed for opportunity.”

“We could provide jobs—there are a lot of people looking for opportunity in home construction. And a lot of city money comes up to us from the Bay Area. Virgin River is isolated and grows slowly, but there are dozens of towns around the area just dying for renovation and new construction. I don’t think you’ll regret it—but I’d rather you not shoulder the risk. I can afford it.”

Stan grinned. “You saying we made you rich enough to start your own company?”

Paul returned the grin. “You did, in fact.”

“Then you owe it to us to give us a piece of the action.”

“I agree,” Mitch said.

“I hate to lose you,” North said. “If you take on a new division, we’ll have to put someone in charge of building operations up here. And damn, you’re the best there is.”

“I’ve been pretty absent since last fall. A long time now.”

“True,” Stan agreed. “But it looks like it was a good investment, personally and professionally. Anyone around here have cigars?”

“You have cigars,” North said.

“I do, don’t I?” Stan said, getting up.

“You know,” Paul said. “You guys have to come down to Virgin River. You’re going to fit right in.”

W
alt had begun making it a habit to be away from the house for long periods of time when Paul was there for the weekend. He stretched out his stable chores and frequently took Liberty out for long early-morning or early-evening rides. His reward for this new behavior was a decent night’s sleep.

It appeared these trips to Grants Pass during the week would continue for a while, and the kids would be back on the weekends. He looked forward to seeing them, but they also needed their space. So, after Friday night’s dinner at the house, with Tom out with Brenda, Walt left cleanup to Paul and Vanni and went for a ride.

He was moving along the river trail when an animal darted down the path toward him. It wasn’t much more than a streak of brown fur and Walt reined in Patriot. He could hear horse’s hooves and then the air was split with a loud whistle and that chocolate streak stopped on a dime. And sat. Panting.

Momentarily, a horse galloped up toward him, a pretty woman astride. She wore a cowboy hat, but even that wide brim couldn’t hide her peachy complexion, rosy cheeks, pink lips. “Good girl, Luce. Break.”

The dog got out of her sit position, at ease, and wagged at her mistress.

“Sorry,” the woman said to Walt. “I hope that wasn’t a problem for you, or for your horse.”

“We’re fine. Amazing little friend you have there.”

“Luce. She’s a bird dog, still in training. I’m Muriel. Are we neighbors?”

“Walt Booth,” he said. “I’m a little embarrassed. I’ve been meaning to bake you a cake and bring it over. Welcome you to the neighborhood.”

She laughed. “I’ll bet you were planning to have your wife do that,” she accused.

“Widowed,” he said, and he plucked his hat off his head in gentlemanly fashion. And curiously, he wondered what his hair looked like. That should have been his first clue.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

“Years ago now,” he answered, smoothing a hand over his head. “How about you? Married?”

“Several times,” she said with a laugh. “I’m trying to quit.”

“You shouldn’t have much trouble. There aren’t so many prospects in Virgin River. What use do you have for a bird dog?”

“I’ve been known to hunt. I don’t know how much of that I’ll get in this year—I’m working on that house. But Luce needs a little time on her skills and I should get her in the water before too long. Keep her up to speed. I’d like to get a litter out of her in a couple of years, after we check her hips. She’s got such a good line.”

Walt looked at her hands. They weren’t fancy-girl hands. Her manicured nails were short and she wore no rings.

“Do you hunt?” she asked him.

“I haven’t in a while, but I’m planning to get back into it. Soon.” It made her smile at him; she knew a flirt when she saw one. “I guess I thought you’d be breeding peacocks on that ranch. Or something. Not working on a house and training a bird dog.”

She tilted her head. “And you would think that because…?”

“Mel told me my new neighbor was a movie star, so I looked you up on the Internet. Lotta fancy pictures,” he said. And then he felt his cheeks grow warm.

“Well, God bless the Internet. Anything else you’d like to know?”

His first thought was he could probably find out who all those husbands had been, but maybe he’d resist. “I don’t know much about movies. Haven’t seen too many. And I don’t know anything about movie stars.”

“Retired,” she said. “I’m sanding, varnishing, hauling trash and training my bird dog. I’m going to pick up another one pretty soon now—I picked the bitch and sire a while ago and she whelped, so as soon as they’ll let him go… And I don’t cook much, don’t bake at all, but as it happens I have sugar for my coffee. In case you want to borrow a cup for that cake you’re baking me.”

“My thirty-year-old daughter has a man in her life—a good man—and they’re at the house every weekend,” he found himself explaining. “I have reasons to stay out of the house a lot. How much sugar do you keep on hand?”

She grinned at him. “Plenty.”

“I might need some as early as tomorrow evening,” he said. “That good man my daughter has is here for the weekend.”

“Is that so?” Then Muriel turned her mount, facing the other way and said, “Luce!” She gave two short whistles. The Lab bolted back where she’d come from. Muriel
looked over her shoulder and said, “Bring a decent bottle of red wine then,” she said. She put her horse into an easy canter and followed her dog.

Walt sat there for a long time, till she was out of sight. “Damn,” he said aloud.

The next evening Paul and Vanessa decided to go to Jack’s for dinner, a predictable event for them. Of course they expected Walt to join them. “Nah,” he said. “I see enough of Jack during the week. Tom gets dinner at Brenda’s and I have no interest in cooking for one. I’ll pass. In fact,” he said, “I might head out to Clear River. There’s a little bar over there where I’m not so well known. I might do that.”

“You sure, Dad?” Vanni asked.

“I’m sure,” he said. “Enjoy yourselves. I’ll see you later, or in the morning.”

When they were gone he showered, applied a little aftershave and poked around in the wine rack, selected a bottle and grabbed his car keys.

When Walt pulled up to his new neighbor’s house, he wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t come off looking like some old fool, chasing a movie star. Of course, the chasing hadn’t even started—this was just a glass of wine with a neighbor. But he felt every second of his sixty-two years and although the research said she was just a few years younger, she looked many years younger than he did. And far more confident than he was.

The property was made up of a timeworn two-story house with a wide porch, a smaller vintage bunkhouse, a barn and a corral. Walt didn’t know where to look first. On instinct, he went to the house and knocked on the front door. “Right in here,” she yelled. “Come on in.”

As Walt stepped inside he was greeted first by a very
excited Luce, wagging and nudging him playfully. Muriel was up on a ladder with a trowel in her hand, which she put in a pan. She wore overalls that were as splattered as the wall. “Good. Break time,” she said, wiping her hands on a rag that she had stuffed in her back pocket.

Hmm. He had showered and splashed on the cologne; she hadn’t even bothered with a comb, much less makeup. She looked real good for a woman her age. “What’s that you’re doing?” he asked.

“Spackling. After which I’ll paint and install new baseboards, and then I’m going after some crown molding.”

He looked around at the mess. The place was in full remodel mode. He lifted the bottle and pointed the label toward her as she descended the ladder. “Will this do?”

She took the bottle from him. “Nice,” she said. “Give me a minute to clean up my tools.” She grabbed her pan and trowel, disappeared into the kitchen and he heard the water run. Momentarily she was back. “Come with me. Come on, Luce.”

He followed her out of the house and across the yard to the bunkhouse. She opened the door and surprised him again. It was one whole room, but it was a big room—as a bunkhouse it could’ve held six twin-size beds. She had a bed in one corner, a settee and chair in front of it, a small table with two chairs and, along one wall a few appliances—a bar-size refrigerator, microwave, small oven, sink, a few cupboards and drawers. The bathroom, such as it was, occupied the corner—a toilet, sink and small shower—right out in the open.

But she had the room fixed up a little bit—fresh paint, bright colors of yellow, red, a little rose and pale green. The bedspread matched the love seat and chair cushions.

While he was looking around, she was digging a corkscrew out of a drawer. She handed him the bottle and the
implement and went after glasses. “Nice little place,” he said, going to work on the cork. “Hope I don’t have to pee while I’m here. More to the point, I hope you don’t have to.”

Muriel laughed, then she grabbed something that leaned up against the end of her cupboard and, one-handed, glasses in the other hand, she erected a wooden TV tray between the chair and short couch. “Instant coffee table,” she said. “Please pour.”

She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a platter covered in Saran, then grabbed a big box of crackers out of a cupboard and placed it on the tray next to her platter. Sliced ham and salami, sliced cheese, olives, veggies and hummus. “Ah,” he said. “You were expecting me.”

She laughed and sat in the chair. “Walt, it’s my dinner.”

“Oh. Oh, I wouldn’t want to take your dinner….”

“I sliced up twice as much, in case you came for your cup of sugar.”

“You really don’t cook? At all? You eat like this?”

“I have a feeling this isn’t going to hold you for long,” she said, picking up a celery stick and dipping it through the hummus. “Well, you’ll be all right. You can make yourself a pot roast or something when you get home tonight.”

And he thought—
if we begin to keep company, I will have to be in charge of the food.

And she thought—
if we see much of each other, I’ll probably gain weight.

“From the outside, this looks like a bunkhouse or guesthouse.”

“It was. Or is. First it was an artist’s studio for the rancher’s wife,” she said, pointing up to two skylights in the ceiling. “Then a bunkhouse for hands or lumberjacks. The kitchen and bathroom facilities were an afterthought,
I believe. My Realtor had the junk hauled out, then I did some painting. I’ll stay here while I work on the big house. And if you have to relieve yourself, the bathroom in the big house works just fine. The door closes and everything.” She took a small sip of wine. “Hmm,” she said, letting her eyes close briefly. Then she clinked his glass. “To new neighborhoods.”

“This isn’t exactly what I expected of a movie star. Spackling. Living in one room.”

“How interesting,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “You’re exactly what I expected of a general.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Is that so?”

“Uh-huh. Thinking anyone who isn’t carrying an M16 is a wimp and women who dress up can’t do heavy work. Walt, time for you to get with it. Movie stars are people. Most of them, anyway. And besides, I’m not a movie star now—I’m retired.”

“What’s that like, being a movie star?”

“Being a star, as you put it, is like living an imaginary life. Acting, however, is the hardest work you’ll ever find. Look at me,” she said, connecting with his eyes. “Closely, closely—yes, like that. Now look angry.” He scowled for her. “Very nice,” she said. “Now—look
vulnerable.
” He frowned in confusion. “Not easy, is it? Add to that, you have to memorize one hundred and twenty pages of dialogue, be on the set at 6:00 a.m. and won’t get done before 10:00 p.m., you’ll either sweat or freeze, you’ll stand at attention for so many goddamn hours your hips will lock and the man you have to kiss will have breath that would gag a maggot or the promising young actress who’s playing your daughter will be a snotty little shit who holds up the whole production and costs everyone time and money.” She leaned back and grinned at him. “It’s not easy. I swear to God.”

“Well, no wonder you retired.”

“Why’d you retire?”

“Over thirty-five years is a long time for an Army officer,” he began.

And they talked through a bottle of wine and her snacks. Walt learned a little about the life of an actress and Muriel heard about the Army and Walt’s family, including the death of his son-in-law, the new grandson and Paul. Before long the wine was gone and it was almost ten o’clock. There was no kiss good-night or anything even close, but Walt said, “If I had time on my hands, could you use help with painting and such?”

“I’d never turn down a helping hand,” she said. “But are you any good at it?”

“Passable. I admit, I hired tradesmen to get it done at my place, but only because I was still in D.C. and wanted the place ready when I retired. I don’t want to intrude in case you’re training your dog or running errands. Why don’t I call ahead?”

“That would work,” Muriel said. She went to the counter of her little makeshift kitchen and wrote down her number. “Or, you can always just come for your sugar.” She smiled at him. “Thanks for the wine. Very nice wine.”

“I have plenty of wine,” he said.

“And I have plenty of sugar.”

“So,” he said. “We’re in business.”

After a weekend in Virgin River, Vanni and Paul returned to Grants Pass. On Tuesday morning, Paul called Terri.

“Hi, Terri, it’s Paul. How are you feeling?”

“Fine, Paul. How are you?”

“Great, thanks. I’ve been out of town and—”

“Let me guess,” she said tiredly. “Virgin River again?”

“As a matter of fact. I have a couple of potential
building contracts down there and I’ve been crunching some numbers to see if it’s doable.”

“Big surprise,” she said with an unhappy laugh. “Kind of a strange place to go when you have a child coming you claim to want to be involved with, don’t you think?”

“Both these jobs will be complete by the time you deliver. And it’s not far—I can get to Grants Pass when I need to. Listen, I wanted to do this in person, but there’s no point in blindsiding you—I’ll be getting married fairly soon.”

He heard a sound; he wasn’t sure if it was a snort or a laugh.

“That won’t be a problem,” Paul said. “She knows all about my situation with you. She also has a child and—”

“I know,” she said, cutting him off. “Your best friend’s baby.”

“She understands we’ll be sharing custody and—”

“I’m not sure I like that idea so much,” she said impatiently.

“Well, we have to deal with what we have,” he said. “And speaking of that, I’ve been looking at the calendar. It has to be time for that doctor’s appointment by now.”

“What appointment?” she asked.

“The one with the OB-GYN. The one I’m going to with you.”

“Oh, that. I had my appointment last Friday. Everything seems to be fine.”

He took a breath. “You know I wanted to go with you,” he said.

“Sorry—they called with an opening. And you didn’t seem to be in town,” she answered crisply.

“If I’d known there was an appointment, I would have been there.” Anger began to swell up inside him and he cautioned himself to stay cool. He didn’t want to set her
off, though he wasn’t sure what more she could do to screw up his head.