Halfway to Forever (25 page)

Even now it was amazing to imagine Tom, trapped in the twisted remains of their car, yet having the wherewithal to know exactly what Hannah needed to hear.
Tell Hannah I love her … and tell her to forgive. Tell her to please forgive
.

But here, now? Did Tom’s words apply to this situation also? To the hurt she’d harbored since losing Grace?

Hannah read the letter once more, and one by one the walls around her heart began to collapse.
Tell Hannah to forgive …

Yes, the words applied as much today as they had three years ago.

She pictured Edna Parsons and Grace’s grandmother and even Matt. She’d been angry with all of them and for what reason? Mrs. Parsons hadn’t meant to cause them pain; she truly believed Grace’s adoption would go through. Otherwise she never would have called in the first place.

Patsy Landers was only doing what
any
grandmother would do in her situation. Certainly if Jenny were jailed and left a baby to the care of the social services system, Hannah would search the country looking to care for that child.

She couldn’t be angry at them or unforgiving, not when neither of them was guilty.

And Matt …

Hannah’s stomach churned as she folded the letter, placed it back in the envelope, and returned it to its place in Tom’s Bible. Then she spent the rest of the day waiting for Matt to come home, praying he’d forgive her.

She went to him the minute he walked through the door. When he saw her, he set his briefcase down in the entryway, and his eyes told her she had nothing to worry about. He forgave her even before she asked. That was the kind of man he was.

“I’m sorry.” Hannah took his hands in hers and stood so their toes were touching. Her voice was thick with pain over what she’d done. “I’ve … I’ve been awful.”

His arms intertwined with hers and he hugged her for a long while. “It’s no one’s fault, Hannah.” His words were a sad whisper, and he pulled back so he could see her face. “Anger is contagious.” He lowered his chin, their eyes locked. “When I left here earlier, I felt just like you. Mad at the state, mad at Grace’s grandmother.” He gave her a sad smile. “Mad at you for being mad at me.”

Hannah’s insides melted. How could she have been angry at
Matt? When all he’d ever done was try to help her? She bit the inside of her lower lip, then let her mouth hang open for a moment, searching for the words. “I took your advice.”

He raised an eyebrow, and she giggled, breaking the tension of the moment. “You … Hannah Bronzan … took
my
advice? Should I call the press?”

She spread her hand on his chest and pushed him with her fingertips. “Stop. I’m serious.”

“Okay.” His smile faded, but the light in his eyes remained. “What advice?”

“I found Tom’s Bible and read the letter, the one from Sgt. Miller.”

“With Tom’s message, right?” Matt’s voice lacked any element of smugness. “About forgiveness?”

“Right.” She hung her head for a minute and then looked at him again. “You were right about all of it. There’s no one to be mad at, just a—” tears burned at the corners of her eyes—“Just a great big hole where that little girl still lives.” She nuzzled her face against his neck. “I miss her so much, Matt.”

“I know.” He worked his fingers into her back and stroked his hand over her hair. “We all miss her.”

Hannah sniffed and a single chuckle came from her throat. “I’m tired of crying all the time.”

Matt shifted his head and brought his lips to hers. “I’m tired of it, too.”

She kissed him then, savoring the feel of his body against hers. She hadn’t felt this alive since the day Grace left. When the kiss ended, Hannah whispered against Matt’s cheek. “What are we supposed to do? Where do we go from here?”

Their noses brushed against each other and Matt caught her gaze once more, his face masked in peace. “We take Tom’s advice. We forgive and we move on.”

“So, you forgive me?”

“Forgiven.” Matt kissed her once more and afterward his expression changed. “I had an interesting day.”

“Interesting?” Hannah lowered her brow.

Matt grabbed his briefcase, slipped it into the closet, and led the way into the living room. When they were seated side by side on the sofa, he laced his fingers behind his head and exhaled long and slow. “We had a good-bye lunch for one of the guys at the firm.”

Confusion roused Hannah’s curiosity. “Who’s leaving, one of the interns?”

“Not an intern.”

Hannah folded her arms. “Okay, I give up. Who?”

Matt settled back into the cushion and angled his head, his eyes locked on hers. “Tanner Eastman. Today was his last day.”

G
race’s smile was missing.

Patsy Landers looked out the back window of her Bartlesville home and realized that was what was different.

Outside, Grace sat in the swing, still and alone, staring at the sky. Her expression was wistful, far away. It wasn’t that she was sad, exactly. The past three weeks had gone better than Patsy expected. Sure, Grace had cried some and asked about the Bronzans, but that was to be expected. But by all standards—her sleep patterns, her personality, her behavior—she was adjusting.

She just wasn’t smiling.

Patsy had enrolled her in preschool, and three days a week a van with cartoon characters painted on the side picked her up at eight and dropped her back at home at three. Grace brought home artwork, sheets of carefully printed letters, and tales of playground antics.

Patsy studied the child through the window once more. It wasn’t what she brought home that troubled Patsy.

It was what she didn’t bring—the ear-to-ear smile that had always been a part of Grace even when life was at its worst.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Patsy would ask. “Is someone making you sad at school?”

Grace would shrug her thin shoulders, barely lifting the corners of her mouth. “No, Grandma. School’s fine.”

Patsy watched her now as the child shuffled her feet in the dirt beneath the swing. Maybe that was it. Everything was fine, but nothing was good.

A sigh filtered through Patsy’s lips as she limped across the floor to the dining room table. They’d gone to the library earlier in the day, and Grace had picked out two Dr. Seuss books. Patsy chose something more practical. She stared at the book on the table and ran her hand over the cover.
101 Things to Do with Your Kids
.

The book was full of activities for parents and their children. If even ten of them brought a spark of life to Grace’s disposition, it would be worth the time spent reading. Besides, there was no time like the present to invest in Grace. Patsy hadn’t done enough of that with Leslie. And look how she had turned out.

If there was one thing Patsy was determined to do, it was prevent Grace from going the way of her mother. The idea that she had a second chance to raise a little girl, another opportunity to rectify the mistakes she had made, to make up for the things she had missed out on the first time around … it made Patsy’s heart swell. And it made losing Leslie almost bearable.

Patsy opened the cover of the book and gazed at the table of contents.
Take an Adventure Walk … Build a Birdhouse … Knit a Scarf … Jump Rope Games … Learn a Song
 …

The suggestions seemed endless, and just reading them lightened the load on Patsy’s heart. She might be slow with her cane, but she could take an adventure walk if she saved up her energy. And knitting scarves was something she’d done back when Leslie was a small girl. Certainly Grace would have fun doing those things.

If they spent that kind of quality time together, Grace was bound to be happy. And maybe then she’d find something more than good times together.

Maybe she’d find her precious granddaughter’s smile, as well.

T
anner clicked the remote control and a sports program filled the television screen.

“ESPN?” Jade moaned.

“Sports are good medicine.”

She giggled. “Okay, but my movie’s on in fifteen, deal?”

“Deal.”

Tanner wrapped his arms around Jade, savoring the way she snuggled in close to him on the sofa. Her hair smelled like fresh soap. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the top of her head. He could have stayed that way forever. Jade cradled against him, Ty asleep upstairs, happy and content and unaware of the impending danger his mother faced.

It was one week until Jade’s early due date, the day that would give both her and the baby the best chance at surviving. Since the day he’d walked out of the office for the last time—hours after his talk with Jade in the church that night—Tanner had spent nearly every waking moment at her side.

Briefs and case precedents and troubled files meant nothing to him. Not anymore. Instead his days were filled with everything about her—the way her eyelashes looked when she slept, the sound of her voice over morning coffee, the brush of her skin against his. He’d fallen in love with her all over again, and no matter how much time they spent together, it wasn’t enough. Tanner cherished every moment, even the difficult ones.

In the process, something amazing had happened. Jade’s speech was still slow, but no longer slurred. And though she shuffled her
feet, she got around most of the time without the wheelchair.

“I don’t get it,” Tanner had told Dr. Layton at Jade’s last visit. “What’s the difference?”

Jade had smiled at him. “I already told you.”

Tanner gave her a skeptical look and then leveled his gaze at the doctor. “Jade thinks it’s because I’m around more, but that wouldn’t change someone’s physical condition. Maybe the tumor’s shrinking.”

Dr. Layton glanced at Jade’s file on his desk and stroked his chin. “It isn’t growing, but it isn’t shrinking, either.” He looked at them. “I think Jade may have a point.”

Tanner remembered thinking he hadn’t heard the doctor right. “Meaning what?”

“There’s a growing body of research showing that love—the physical touch and closeness of someone we care for—has a positive influence on the body’s immune system. Some studies say it’s more powerful than diet, weight, fitness, and heredity combined.”

Jade had smiled at him. “See?” She squeezed his hand.
“You’re
why I feel better.”

After hearing Dr. Layton’s information, Tanner wanted to cry for a week. If his nearness to Jade had helped her improve in so short a time, imagine what it could have done if he’d been there since the beginning, since she was first diagnosed.

The memory faded and Tanner was glad. There was no point beating himself up over what he hadn’t done. He was here now and there was no place he’d rather be. Matt called every few days and gave him updates on what was happening at the office. But only updates.

Tanner had made his departure clear to all of them. He was taking an indefinite leave of absence. Whether that would be three months or a year or even two, he had no idea. Until he returned,
Matt was in charge. All questions would go to Matt and occasionally, a few times a week, Matt would call Tanner and keep him posted on the current caseload.

“I want to know what we’re taking on,” he told Matt after the good-bye lunch. “But stop me if I get specific. Strategies, case precedents, meetings with opposing attorneys. None of it. I need to be completely focused on Jade and Ty.”

“You’re sure about this?”

Tanner had looked straight at Matt and given him a sad smile. “Right now I’m not sure if Jade will live to see tomorrow. I’m not sure I’ll ever see our baby girl, and if I do, I’m not sure she’ll survive her first month. I have no idea how Ty and I will go on if we lose Jade, but leaving work?” He patted Matt on the shoulder. “I’m absolutely sure about that.”

“Good.” Matt’s eyes were thoughtful. “It’s just what you need. Time together.”

Tanner gazed at the ceiling for a moment and shook his head as his eyes found Matt’s again. “Why’d it take me so long to see it?”

“Life’s like that sometimes.” Matt hesitated. “Was this time off … did Jade ask you to do it?”

“Not in so many words.” Tanner’s eyes grew wet. “She told me she needed me. That she’d take as many minutes as I could give.” He blinked back the tears. “In that moment, everything here paled in comparison to spending even one more minute with Jade.”

“If I was in your shoes, I’d do the same thing.” Matt slipped his hands in his pockets. “Exactly.”

“Probably sooner.”

Matt grinned. “I wasn’t going to mention that, but …”

Tanner reached for a thick file on his desk and handed it to Matt. “I’m giving you the Benson, Colorado, case.” He hesitated. “My strategy is outlined in the first document. After that you’ll find my interview notes, case precedent research, and copies of
the lease contract that started the whole thing.”

Matt thumbed through the file and then looked at Tanner again. “This case meant a lot to you.”

A lump formed in Tanner’s throat as he leveled his gaze at Matt. “Jade means a whole lot more.”

Matt held the file up. “I’ll give it my best.” As he left Tanner’s office, Matt pointed heavenward. “I won’t be working alone.”

Tanner grinned. “I have no doubts.”

The memory faded again and ESPN went to a commercial.

“Time for my movie.” She batted her eyes, and for a moment Tanner was lost in them. Whether she was sick or not, Jade’s eyes were a gorgeous green, green as the water in Chesapeake Bay.

He sighed in mock frustration. “You sure you don’t want another half hour of SportsCenter?”

“Positive.”

This time he sighed long and hard. “Okay … what’s the movie.”

She grinned, and for an instant looked like the little girl he’d befriended back in Virginia.
“The Way We Were
. Channel Eight.”

He silently mouthed the title. “Chick flick, right? Tearjerker?”

Jade nestled in closer to his side. “Yes, but you’ll like it. I promise.”

Tanner groaned. “And if you’re wrong?” He kissed the top of her head.

“We can watch war movies for a week.” She giggled hard at the thought, and the sound was like nourishment for his soul.