Faith was talking to herself, her sweet voice filling the background like a musical score.
“It’s been a pleasure to meet you.” Paula looked at Faith. “All of you.”
“Wook, Mommy.” Faith held up the minirecorder.
“Oh, honey, don’t push the buttons.” Deb punched the Stop button. “I’m sorry. I hope she didn’t record over something important.”
“It was at the end of an interview. No harm done.” Paula smiled at Faith, whose eyes had been filled with apprehension. “You’re pretty good at this taping stuff. Maybe you’ll grow up to be on TV like me.” The thought stuck in her throat, jamming her words like Lake Shore Drive traffic at rush hour.
She stood, looking nowhere but at her desk.
Deb stood, too, and slipped on her coat. Paula wanted to ask when she would see Faith again. She wanted to draw the girl into her arms and hold her. But the stinging of her eyes warned her that she needed to get her visitors out of there before she lost it.
Faith slid down from the chair and plopped the shrinking sucker back into her mouth.
Deb embraced Paula. “Thank you so much. We’ll never forget what you did.”
The words only sprouted more guilt from the seed that seemed wedged against her heart. The clog in her throat grew until she felt choked by it.
“Tell Miss Paula good-bye,” Deb said.
“Bye.” Faith waved her little-girl fingers, opening and closing them against her palm.
Paula watched Faith walk all the way down the corridor, her awkward gait a painful reminder of what she had done.
And then they were gone.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
Paula took a bite of the rack of lamb, savoring the sweet glaze. Across from her, David started on his garlic mashed potatoes. After he’d picked her up from the airport, he drove her straight to the Sweetwater Restaurant. Paula made small talk, but she was having difficulty putting from her mind everything she’d found out this past week. And the worst part was, she couldn’t say a word about it to David.
The server refilled their drinks, then walked away, the rustic floorboards creaking with every step.
“Hanna invited us to stop over later if we want,” David said. “She said it was movie night. I guess Jenna, Micah’s sister, is supposed to fly here soon to stay with them.”
“I hadn’t heard that.” Paula wasn’t sure that was what Hanna needed right now with a baby on the way, but maybe it would work out for the best.
“From what Micah said, Jenna’s had it pretty rough out in California, so they’re trying to help her get on her feet.” He took a sip from his glass. “So are you up for a movie?”
Normally she’d want to go nowhere but home to have precious time alone with David. But tonight the thought of escaping into a movie, of avoiding alone time with David, was the more inviting option.
“Sure, let’s do.” Before he could question her decision, she changed the topic. “Is Hanna huge yet?”
He held his palms out. “It wouldn’t be gentlemanly to respond to that question.”
“And if there’s anything you are, David Cohen, it’s a gentleman.” There it was. Her old flirtatious manner. She smiled, relieved. Maybe she could put everything from her mind and just enjoy the weekend with him.
“How’s your plant?” he asked.
It took her a moment to realize what he was talking about. “Better. The leaves aren’t so yellow anymore. No flowers yet, but who knows? Maybe it’s just the time of year they don’t bloom.”
David shoved his plate aside and began playing with the glass cup that held a flickering tea-light candle. “Gram would probably know. Or Hanna. Isn’t she due soon?”
“Is that your way of saying she looks ready to pop?” She wiped her mouth and set her linen napkin on her nearly empty plate.
He stared into the light, his lips tipping up only a fraction of an inch.
Why am I talking about Hanna’s pregnancy? Paula chided herself. It would only remind him of her own pregnancy and the sadness he’d experienced at its end. And it reminded her of something much worse. She focused on the Neil Diamond song playing faintly in the background.
“Paula, do you ever think about having a baby?”
Her eyes swung to David. “What?”
“I know we had problems conceiving last year. But it’s not hopeless. Especially if we go to a fertility clinic. It might take a long time, but . . .” He let go of the glass candle cup and took her hand. “I love you so much. I still want us to have a baby together.”
Emotions roiled inside her. Her stomach clamped down hard with a yearning she’d never felt before. They’d tried for a year to conceive, and that had been hard. She’d been impatient, and he’d been . . . almost casual about it. But she was now on the verge of getting her dream job. How did she feel about that?
“I know it might not be the best timing. But it may take a couple of years. If you get the anchor chair, you’ll have had time to become established. How do you think Miles would handle it if you got pregnant?”
“Well, at least I’d be behind a desk.” She breathed a laugh. “The viewers wouldn’t have to know I was pregnant.”
“What about the leave of absence? And would Miles see motherhood as a distraction from your work?”
Motherhood. Had any other word ever held the same beautiful thought? The change in her attitude surprised her. “I don’t care.”
David pushed up his glasses. A frown furrowed above the nosepiece. “What?”
“I said I don’t care.” And she realized suddenly that she didn’t care. Didn’t care what Miles would think. Didn’t care what her viewers would think. All she cared about was that she would be the most blessed woman in the world if she could have David’s baby.
David’s eyes swam with bewilderment. He looked frozen in time. Even his hand on hers had gone still.
“I really don’t, David. This is our life we’re talking about. As much as I want to climb the corporate ladder, I’m not going to let it steal from us something so important. We’re not getting any younger, you know.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“You’re three years older than I, Mr. Cohen.”
“And you’re more beautiful than the day I met you.”
Warm emotions wrapped around her stomach like gently curling fingers. She felt her lips relax into a smile. “Let’s not go to Hanna’s.”
David’s eyes gave off more heat than the Buck stove against the wall. He slowly put his hand in the air. “Check, please.”
* * *
Linn sat down at the small break table and ripped open her honey-nut granola bar. She looked at her book bag, then at the newspaper she’d bought on her way in this afternoon. Should she study or comb the Help Wanted ads?
Searching for a part-time employer who would work around her classes was proving to be a nearly impossible task. Add that to the limited time she had between going to class, working, studying, and commuting on the bus, and she felt as if she faced a Mount Teton climb wearing a pair of slides.
Working with Adam hadn’t been as bad as she’d expected since he was going out of his way to avoid her. They hadn’t had another personal conversation since the last one that had ended so badly. She felt like a hypocrite after telling Paula to be honest with her husband when she was pretending she didn’t care anything about Adam.
She’d wanted to apologize for her harsh words a hundred times, but doing so would only bring on more trouble. Nothing had changed. She was still unfit for a relationship with a man like Adam, and how was she to know if he’d broken it off with Elizabeth yet?
As much as Linn wanted to know what had happened, it wouldn’t do any good. Even if he and Elizabeth went as far as breaking up, Adam was still way too good for Linn Caldwell.
She snapped open the paper and turned to the Help Wanted section. When she found it, she folded the paper over and took a bite of her granola bar.
Footsteps sound
ed nearby, and she looked up.
It was Adam. He was carrying a coffee cup and a plate with a cinnamon roll. He stopped quicker than an elk in the path of an oncoming car. And he had just about the same look on his face.
Her eyes found the ads again. Why was he on break now? That only left Alicia at the counter. They had a big party coming in twenty minutes. Maybe Joe wanted them to get their breaks before that.
She stiffened as he took the only other chair at the table. Right across from her.
Oh, God, I have got to find a new job. I can’t keep doing this. It’s too hard. Help me.
Keep breathing, Linn. Look at the ads.
Across from her, Adam’s fork scraped across the plate.
Read the ads.
Adam shifted in his chair. Then he sipped from his coffee cup. All of this she could see from her peripheral vision. Her eyes were fixed on the newspaper, but she couldn’t seem to remember how to read.
He broke the silence. “I guess Joe thought we’d better take our break while we can.”
Her heart jumped as he spoke. “I guess.”
She brought the paper closer, as if she’d just found something very interesting. She couldn’t say what it was.
“Any luck finding a job?” His tone was soft but guarded.
She couldn’t blame him after what she’d said to him.
“Not yet.”
He took another bite of his cinnamon roll.
It was a lesson in self-control to keep her eyes on the paper. She took a small bite of her granola bar. It tasted like fresh sawdust. She forced herself to swallow and took a sip from her Evian bottle.
“You don’t have to leave, Linn.” His tone was like a lifeline, drawing her in.
She had to resist. Staying there with him wouldn’t save her. It would be her downfall.
“We’ve already been through this,” she said.
His words from before came unwanted to her mind. “If she’s so perfect for me, why do I want you?”
Why do I want you?
Why do I want you?
Just the memory of the words made her heart kick into a heavy, irregular rhythm, like a bass drum in a funky ’80s song.
“I get that you don’t feel the same way about me as I feel about you,” he said.
Yes, I do. You have no idea.
“But we can be friends, can’t we?” His tone eroded her resistance.
Finally she dared to glance at him. He looked puppy-dog sad with his brown eyes dimmed, as if a light had gone off behind them. She longed to say yes. That they could be friends. It would be an excuse to be near him, and she totally wanted that.
But she knew, with certainty, that she couldn’t handle his nearness. She hadn’t been able to handle it since her feelings had grown for him. And if he ever did break up with Elizabeth, she would wind up doing the selfish thing. She would let the friendship grow into something bigger. And Adam deserved better than that.
How could she explain it to him, though? Maybe she could appeal to his sense of integrity. “Please, Adam, I’m trying to make a good decision here.”
“How is it a good decision to end a friendship? You’re doing a great job here. Joe will be hard-pressed to find a replacement for you.”
If he was trying to send her on a guilt trip, it was working. He made it all sound so cut-and-dried. But feelings weren’t like that. And she wasn’t strong enough to resist what she wanted when it stared her in the face every day.
“If it’s about Elizabeth, she and I talked and—”
“No.” She held up the paper between them like a shield. “I don’t want to hear it. This has nothing to do with Elizabeth.” Truth was, she was afraid she’d cave if she found out things were over between Adam and his fiancée. Better to just not know.
When he looked confused, she realized she’d spoken harshly.
“So that’s that, then? You’re just going to quit.” His shoulders raised in a helpless shrug.
“That’s the plan.”
He picked up his plate and cup and stood.
Please don’t go, her heart begged. Convince me I’m wrong. Tell me you love me and won’t give up on me.
Then an instant later, the accusation came: You are so weak, Linn. She closed her eyes against the truth.
She felt him leave the room, and the void he left seemed as vast as Leigh Canyon.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
Paula let herself into her apartment, pulling the rolling travel case with her. The scent of garlic and tomato permeated the room, teasing her taste buds. She always passed on the airline food, but now she found herself hoping that the leftovers of whatever had been cooked for dinner were sitting on a shelf in the fridge.
Linn rounded the corner of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “Welcome home.”
“Thanks. Dare I hope you have leftovers to share?”
Linn smiled. “I made plenty. It’s only spaghetti, though, and I’m afraid Prego was involved.”
“Believe me—my stomach doesn’t feel very picky right now.”
“I’ll fix you a plate.”
Linn disappeared into the kitchen before Paula could protest. She was so tired from the travel and stress; maybe she would just sit down and take it easy. She’d been fine in Jackson. She had managed to put the whole mess of Faith and the Morgans out of her mind, more or less, and focus on David and the thought of having a baby. But the moment he dropped her at the airport, her mind flew faster than a jet toward her precarious future.
She rolled her bag into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed.
She had to make a decision about the Morgans—and soon. Once they hired a PI, it was only a matter of time before he found the truth. The whole truth. What should she do?
“Paula? It’s ready.”
She shoved her thoughts to the back of her mind and joined Linn in the kitchen. “Smells great.”
Linn set the plate and a glass of fizzy soda on the dining-room table.
“Thanks, Linn.”
“You’ll have to teach me to make your fancy spaghetti sauce sometime,” Linn said.
“Sure.” Paula rolled the spaghetti around the fork tines and slid it into her mouth. Prego aside, this really hit the spot.
Sitting across from her, Linn set her elbow on the table and propped her chin on her palm.
“Didn’t have to work today?” Paula asked.
“Just noon to seven.”
“You had to miss church?”
Linn’s shoulder hitched upward. “I went to Sunday school.”
“Sunday school. Man, I haven’t been there since I was a teenager.”
“I don’t know why they call it that. It’s more like a small group that studies the Bible and has an open discussion. They have a college-age class at this church.”
“Anyone with boyfriend potential?”
Linn’s lips parted, then closed.
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot about Adam.” Paula drew out the name in a sultry tone.
Linn sat back in her chair. “There’s nothing between me and Adam.”
“Oh, right. That tension I felt in the room last week was electrical energy from the thunderstorm we weren’t having.”
“Adam is a dead end for me. Number one, he’s engaged. At least, I think he still is. Number two, I couldn’t be more wrong for him.”
Paula didn’t miss the flicker of sadness in Linn’s eyes. “Didn’t you say he was studying to be a pastor or something? That seems like a perfect fit to me. You’re a Christian.”
Linn stared out the window before responding. “I’m a Christian with the past of a harlot. Not exactly preacher’s wife material.”
Paula thought back on what she knew of Linn. The affair with her sister’s ex-husband, the almost abortion. And then she’d kept her identity a secret while convincing Natalie to adopt the baby. “Does Adam know about your past?”
Linn played with the gold chain that hung around her neck. “So how
was your weekend?”
Paula narrowed her eyes. “Very shrewd, young lady. My weekend went quite well, thank you very much.”
“So you didn’t tell him?”
“Same as you didn’t tell Adam?”
“It’s hardly the same thing.”
“What—there are times to be honest and times to hide all your dark secrets? What do you think I was trying to do all those years ago? It’s no different.”
“Then you think honesty is the best policy?” Linn cocked her head.
“That’s not what I said.”
“What are you saying?”
Paula sighed and laid her fork in her plate, her appetite suddenly gone. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I have no idea what to do about my own quandary, much less yours.”
“Isn’t there a difference between lying and just omitting information? I mean, why is it wrong that I haven’t told Adam everything about my past?”
“So you haven’t lied to him about anything?”
Linn looked down. Her fingers played with a loose thread on the tablecloth. “I did lie about something. I’ve felt guilty about it ever since.”
When Linn bit the corner of her lip, Paula felt bad. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, you’re right. And I know what I should do.”
Paula studied Linn’s face. The drooping corners of her mouth had resignation written all over them. “Just like that? You realize you’ve lied and you just go fix it?”
Linn shrugged. “It’s the right thing to do.”
“What about the repercussions? Will there be any for you?”
Linn gave a wry laugh. “Oh yeah.”
“Then why do it? Wouldn’t it be easier to let it slide?”
“Sure, in the short run.” Linn wrapped the thread around her index finger. “But experience has taught me that lies come back to bite you later. And when they do, they bite hard.”
Paula put David from her mind for the moment and remembered her meeting with Deb and Faith the week before. “I lied to the Morgans.” Paula wiped her mouth with the napkin and set it down beside her glass. “I told Deb I hadn’t found out anything new.”