Together Again: Spirit Travel Novel - Book #4 (Romance & Humor - The Vicarage Bench Series) (27 page)

“Troy Brennan,” he replied, and added, “likewise.” He straightened as he shook hands, letting the older man peruse and decide. In a very few seconds, he returned the satisfied smile offered to him from a contented father. An added squeeze and an extra shake sealed their unspoken acknowledgement.

He turned to find Dani’s mother warily watching the performance in front of her. Her face, pale but staunch, showed no welcome whatsoever. Troy waited.
One, two, three…
She took her time studying him. He did the same. Tension built, but neither one looked away. An arm lifted, went around the woman’s shoulders, and squeezed. Her brother lent his moral support without words. She smiled his way, and that was all it took.

Her face lit up in exactly the same way as her daughter’s and granddaughter’s. Troy was entranced, a goner. The special smile he’d used to enchant Amy and Dani was now employed to work the same magic with the mother.

“Mrs. Howard, I’m Dani’s future. I hope we can be friends.” He held out his hand, his charisma encasing her in his circle of warmth.

She slowly faced his way, her reluctance obvious. Her smile started to slide away but stopped before it completely disappeared. For an instant, portraying the uncertainty of a child, she bit her bottom lip. Then she placed her trembling fingers upon his. This was no handshake. She just held onto him, and that gorgeous smile again lit up her countenance.

“Hello, Troy. I should have recognized you the other day from a photograph Dani had of you in her office. She’s been waiting for you a very long time.” Her soft voice oozed over him like warm honey.

Sighs of relief echoed throughout the room.

Chapter Forty-One

The day she’d yearned for had finally arrived. It was her birthday. Dani got out of bed and, in her pink see-through baby-dolls, walked over to her mirror—and gasped.

Swollen eyes and an aching stomach were her reward for the crying jag she’d surrendered to the night before. Cold, trembling arms wrapped themselves around her upset tummy, where nerves played hell with her tense muscles. For ten long, hellish years she’d scratched days off calendars, planned and re-planned for this day. Now all she wanted to do was go back and hide in her bed.

A long sigh groaned through her without warning. She thought about everyone attending her party. They knew her well enough to notice her evident unhappiness. For their sakes, she needed to hide her sorrow, work on her appearance and pretend. After all, she was a grown woman, a world-famous author and mother to a wonderful little girl. Too bad she wasn’t an actress.

Grabbing her hair and twisting it into a knot at her neck, she slowly trudged to the shower. As she passed her messy bed, where creamy rose-decorated sheets and quilts lay tangled, she stopped to peer at the enlarged photograph of Troy. Until recently, it had hung in her office. Taken in the jungles of Cambodia—war clearly evident in the background showing tanks and machine guns—Troy, the soldier, hunched down. She reached out and gently touched the face of the man she loved. It was her favourite of all the pictures she’d kept of him over the years. He’d grinned directly into the camera in much the way she remembered him smiling at her years before in a clothing store mirror—cheeky, eyes lit with humour.

Minutes later, water cascaded over her weary body. She’d put her life on hold for the man she’d just lost. The only way to combat her heartache was to have an itinerary for her future. An agenda to get on with her life.

For as long as she could remember, everything she chose revolved around Troy and her desperation to be with him again. Trying to turn herself into a woman he’d be proud of, she’d taken self-protection classes, kept up on current affairs, read all the classics and poetry she knew he favoured, even learned to cook the dishes he’d ordered while they were together.

She’d wanted to be a person he would like as well as love. Visualizing their life together, she knew how important it was in a relationship to have similar interests, friendship, and—God help her—trust. But during the endless hours of the night she’d come to realize she had withheld the one element he would consider most important. Her forehead leaned on the glass, her head too heavy to hold upright. Tears blended with the flowing water, but nothing could dislodge the lump in her throat or the blinding pain radiating from the back of her neck to the top of her head.

Why the hell hadn’t she come right out and told him who she was at the beginning instead of playing her silly-bugger games? In retrospect, she knew his heart was huge; he would have understood. Then they wouldn’t have wasted these last days. Instead, he’d left her and was now in Chicago.

She’d blown it. Her relentless but juvenile need for him to choose Ellie, the woman, over Dani, the girl he loved, had started the problem. That and, even more important, her stupid lack of self-confidence.

She studied her thought processes over the last few days and realized her immaturity had taken over; her lack of experience had marred her ability to think clearly. Hell, she could write this kind of conflict in a plot, but who in real life would believe anyone her age could be this dense?

Heart-sore and towel-clad, she lackadaisically moved around her room, dreading the irony of the next few hours. She relived those moments when he’d left her to go and visit with Amy—she’d been in heaven, happier than she’d ever felt in her life. Their lovemaking had been exciting, tender, and beautiful. Her breath caught as a jumble of reminiscences overruled her self-control. With her arms again wrapped around her middle, she lowered her weak body onto a chair and rocked.

Amy had said he brought his suitcase and left it outside the door. In her misery, she’d revisited that one incongruous point many times. He’d planned to leave town before he even saw her. Dani’s shaky hand knuckled her eyes and then covered them completely. She wanted to shut off her thoughts, but the internal lever wouldn’t move from rewind.

He must’ve decided that he’d betrayed Dani that night after we left the restaurant, because of his attraction to me, and for him that would be unforgivable. Then today, their lovemaking would have made his feelings of treachery even worse. No doubt there will be a letter awaiting me at the address I gave him. I have to face it. In his mind, his only honourable option would be to leave. The thought of his confusion and suffering made her tears start once again.

My fault.

Like a refrain from a song, those words popped into her head—again and again. Blasted hell! Why hadn’t she confessed? Why carry things to such lengths?

Because she hadn’t trusted. She’d wanted proof, and she’d gotten it. There was no longer any doubt about Ellie’s allure. Her heart hurt so much.

My fault.

The towel fell to the floor as she stood, moved to her dresser, and slathered on body lotion. Then, naked, she walked to the wardrobe and pulled out the most beautiful dress she’d ever owned. It had taken her over a year to find the perfect one, because today was to have been the most important day in her life. Scrunched in her hands and cradled close to her heart, the turquoise chiffon material drifted and billowed in a shimmering pool of lavish beauty.

How was she to get through this day? Uncle Robert, Mrs. Dorn, even her parents, all had gone to so much trouble to make this year special. She couldn’t stay home.

Not wanting to add the title of coward to that of fool, she squared her shoulders, slid into matching panties and bra, then the dress, and settled on the low seat to lean toward the mirror of her vanity table. She’d need all the creams, powders, and acting prowess she could amass today, just to appear to be someone she didn’t hate.

****

A few hours later, Dani, head held high and tears choked back, walked with Amy to where torment lurked, waiting. The anguish of knowing this would be the worst instead of the best day of her life had to be lived through, and then it would be put behind her once and for all.

Amy, dressed to match her mother in a lovely white satin number trimmed in the same turquoise chiffon as Dani’s outfit, skipped alongside. Her quaint shoes, dyed to match the sash, were flat-heeled, not high like her mother’s, and were displayed with each running hop. Small fingers, wrapped around Dani’s, tugged her forward while the child’s nattering covered what would otherwise have been a conspicuous silence.

They sauntered along the cobblestone lane past rows of cottages barely visible behind abundant beech trees interspersed with birches.

Buddy, wearing a white bow Amy had attached to his collar, pranced in front of the two females, sensing how very handsome he looked in his finery.

“Mummy? Aren’t you excited to see what your presents are? I made you something, but it isn’t very big. I hope you like it. Do you want me to tell you what it is?”

Dani’s sad thoughts lifted for the first time that day. “No, darling. Please let me be surprised. I have no doubt that, whatever it is, it will be my favourite gift of the day.”

“No, it won’t. I know what your best gift will be, but I can’t say anything.” To make sure, Amy plastered her hand over her mouth and looked adorable as she shook her head in a negative way. Lifting two fingers, she added, “You could torture me, and I still won’t tell. I promised!”

“Then you mustn’t say another word.” Dani knew her daughter well, and her penchant for blurting out the very thing she tried to hide. She only hoped the girl retained this flaw as a teenager. It would make life as her mother a whole lot simpler.

Upon their arrival, Dani pasted a smile on her face, greeting each person with a hug, a kiss, and kind words. She played her part well as she wove through the room toward the kitchen and Mrs. Dorn’s welcoming arms.

“Lass, you’re a sight for me poor old eyes. It’s lovely you look, but then, I never expected less.” Chubby fingers wiped plump, wet cheeks and searched in the sleeve of her best dress for her perpetual hidden hanky. Her hair, dyed a deep unnatural brown, permed, and thinning to baldness in the front, was tightly curled in honour of the special occasion.

The door behind them opened and Uncle Robert’s beaming face peeked around in a teasing way before he snuck in to get his cuddles as well. She’d missed him when they arrived. He’d been away from the front door, probably visiting with some of the many wandering guests.

“There you are.” He lifted her two hands wide and looked his fill. “You’re enchanting, little girl.”

The first true smile in many hours lit her features. “How can you still call me that when today I’m twenty-seven years—”

“Years young.” He hugged her to him. “To me, you’ll always be my curly-haired, precious little niece, and more beautiful with every passing year.”

She replied charmingly, “Thank you, kind sir. Your eyes, ever so perceptive, have remained true even in your dotage.” A giggle escaped.

“And you, my dear, have remained a little horror.”

Laughing, she hugged him with all her might, and stifled the escaped sob with a cough.

He stepped back and beamed. It was the only word to describe the happiness he couldn’t hide. “It’s finally here. The day we’ve been waiting for. Ten years! Are you excited?”

Her face fell, and the previously veiled sadness became apparent. “I don’t know how to tell you—”

“Never mind. I’m so flustered, I’m not thinking straight. You mustn’t tarry any longer with us old meddlers. You need to go into the garden for your best present.” So saying, he led her towards the doorway and gave her a little push.

She stopped dead, turning towards him, wanting to explain, to save them from any embarrassment, but she was manhandled into the previous direction and gently nudged again. Still she froze in place and then again faced the two who meant the world to her. Before she could speak, the lovable housekeeper urged her on, prodding and waving with her hands.

“Go, lovie,” Mrs. Dorn’s arch look spoke volumes. “Don’t keep him waiting.”

They were only words, small silly words, so how could they produce such a change? But with those very few syllables Dani’s world righted itself, twisting towards a future she’d envisioned for ten long and lonely years. Her heartbeat rose from normal to insanely hard-to-breathe in just a few seconds.

She flew to her favourite place in the house, only to come to a dead stop under the overhanging greenery. Troy sat waiting, looking slightly uncomfortable on the bench, his hands well away from the roses trailing behind.

Chapter Forty-Two

“You came?” Her words brought him out of his reverie.

Her trembling lips and the tearful way she said the words brought him to her side in an instant. “Of course I came. I promised, didn’t I?”

His hands cradled her face as he looked his fill. He saw joy, overshadowing recent distress, and knew they both had a lot of explaining to do before moving forward.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He didn’t need to spell it out. They were still on the same wavelength, just as they were when merged.

She sighed and shook her head regretfully. “At first I didn’t understand it myself. Remember when we were first together, and we saw the woman in the vicarage garden? I felt her mixed emotions, but I didn’t know who she was. It scared me. Then my parents appeared, but much older. I recognized them. The child was a mystery.”

“Amy.”

“Yes. It took until we went to the house before I knew precisely who she was. Remember, I only thought I might be pregnant, but to a sixteen-year-old, there’s always wiggle room, and I didn’t know how old she was then. I still hadn’t accepted that I was actually going to be a mother.”

“Okay. I get that. When did you know about the time difference?”

“There was no exact moment. It just slowly seeped in. Once when you were reading the newspaper I saw the date, and all my suspicions were verified.”

“And you didn’t tell me what you’d discovered because…?”

“Because it wouldn’t have been at all fair to you. Don’t you see? Before I left you I knew there would be a ten-year wait for me, but only one week for you. If you knew I’d have to wait that long before we could be together, either you would have refused to even consider tying me to you for such a long time, or you’d have felt compelled to follow through. No matter what you thought once you met me today, you—”