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Authors: Michelle Sutton

Letting Go (Healing Hearts) (31 page)

BOOK: Letting Go (Healing Hearts)
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“Just tell me.”

“Guess.”

“Grrr . . . I don’t want to guess. Just tell me.”

“Okay, I’ll give you a hint. What do you want more than anything in the world?”

Easy question. Lowering his voice he answered, “You.”

“Me?” she squeaked. “Um . . . no, Dave. That was the wrong answer.”

His chest tightened. “It was?”

“Yeah, silly. Now be serious. What do you want more than anything?”

Now that she’d corrected him, he considered the other possibilities. “Boy, this is hard.”

She laughed. “No, it’s really not.”

“Da-ddy!”

“Oh, yeah, Joey. So what’s up?” He covered the phone with his hand. “Just a minute, Joey!”

“I can’t believe you didn’t guess Joey first. That’s so not like you. Anyway, I just got off the phone with Leanne’s attorney. She wants to sign relinquishments tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Da-ddy!”

He placed his hand over the phone again. “Give me a minute. I’ll be right there.”

“Yes. Isn’t it great?”

“Absolutely. But Di, why so soon?”

“Her attorney said she wanted to get it over with. All she wants is pictures of Joey every Christmas, and once she signs, he’s all yours.”

“You mean, he’s ours.”

She chuckled. “Yeah. Well, you know what I meant.”

“Thanks, Diane. Thanks for calling.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“So what time do we meet?”

“Tomorrow morning at nine o’clock. My office.”

“I’ll be there. See you then.”

“See you tomorrow. Bye.”

What did she mean by yeah? Was she having second thoughts? And why had he forgotten about Joey? What’s going on? He didn’t feel like himself anymore.

He groaned. Maybe he should talk to his pastor. He always gave good advice.

What if he was wrong about Diane? Was the Lord trying to tell him something?

Sighing, he whispered, “Okay, Lord. I give up. I’ll talk to her, but not until after I have Pastor Lane pray for me. You know what I want, but if it’s going to hurt Joey and me, and I’m just not seeing it, then I want you to take the desire away from me. And, Lord, do it fast.”

 

 

Chapter 25

 

A
s soon as Diane hung up the phone with Dave, it rang again. “Hello?”

“Diane? It’s Mother. Can we talk?”

Diane opened her mouth, but couldn’t speak. Should she say yes?

“Are you there? Hello?”

“I’m still here.”

“If the reason you’re not sure is because of what happened the last time I saw you, well, I was a bit tipsy, and I apologize. I didn’t mean to get so nasty with you.”

Diane’s knees weakened. Her mother never apologized. She eased into the chair and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“What’s going on?” Maybe she was dying. Why else would she be nice?

“I want to ask you something.”

The clock on the wall blurred as Diane stared at it. “All right.”

“Do you think I should get help for my drinking? I mean, is it really that bad?”

“What?”

“I said do you think I need help for my drinking?”

Diane’s pulse skittered. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Jax called. He wants to get back together but won’t do it if I’m still drinking. I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“Did he say that’s why he left you?”

Her mother coughed. “Yes. He said he didn’t want a drunk for a wife.”

Diane swallowed. Her father used to say the same thing. Well, she didn’t want that pervert marrying her mother. “A wife?”

“That’s what I said. He told me he was going to ask me to marry him, but my drinking got so bad that he didn’t want to be with me anymore.”

“He said that?”

“Yes. Now stop asking me questions and just tell me what to do.”

“You should get treatment. Definitely. I think it would help you.”

Her mother sighed. “That’s what I thought you’d say. Your father wanted me to get help too. But I refused back then. It’s too late now.”

“Mother, please don’t talk about Daddy.”

“Don’t you ever miss him?”

Diane’s throat tightened and her eyes stung. “Honestly? No, I don’t.”

“Why?”

Her voice wavered. “Why do you think?”

“Oh. Well, that’s not my fault.”

“What are you saying?”

“Your father going to your room every night. I had nothing to do with it.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it. Please—”

“I never believed that he stayed so long just to read you stories,” her mother muttered.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“When my father . . . ” Her voice hitched. “I never wanted to talk about him either.”

Diane choked. “Grandpa did that to you? Is that why you were always mad around him?”

Her mother snarled, “That’s why I had to let it go. I couldn’t make your father stop any more than I could make mine. So I let him do it. You never complained, so I figured you liked the attention.”

“You knew? How long?”

Her mother’s voice squeaked. “Since you were about seven.”

“It started when I was seven?” Diane clutched her stomach.

“Maybe younger. But I caught him once when you were about seven.”

Get out of here, Lacy. I said, get out!

A chill coursed through Diane as she recalled that moment. The pain of feeling utterly abandoned.

“Mother, how could you? How could you let him do that to me?”

“I told you. I didn’t know how to stop it,” her mother whined.

“You could’ve tried.”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about your father,” she snapped. “Well, that’s fine by me. It won’t change a thing, anyway. What’s done is done.”

“But you could have helped me. Instead, you looked the other way.”

“I should have been a better mother. I did the best I could. I got you involved in the beauty pageants to get you away from your father. It worked for a while.”

“You did that for me?”

“I’ve always wanted to be beautiful like you. So I gave you all of the advantages I didn’t have. I told your father you’d make something of yourself one day.” Her mother sighed. “He didn’t believe me, but I knew I was right.”

Diane sniffled. “Thanks for saying that.”

“It’s no big deal. You’re smart, Diane. Don’t cry about it.”

Tell her you forgive her.
The words formed in her consciousness, inaudible, but distinct.

But, I’m not ready, Lord.

Tell her . . .

“I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t mean to get all choked up about this.”

“That’s fine. I better get going now. I think I’m going to call Jax and let him know I’ll agree to enroll in a program.”

“Wait, Mother. I need to tell you one more thing.”

Her mother heaved a sigh, “Come on. You know I hate to talk on the phone.”

“I’m getting married.”

“What? You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Well, it’s about time someone finally asked you.”

Tell her you forgive her.

You have to give me courage.

“So I guess congratulations are in order, then.”

Give me strength, Lord. I can’t do this on my own.

“Diane?”

“Huh?”

“I said I suppose congratulations are in order.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“So tell me. What’s his name?”

“Dave.”

“The guy I met at the restaurant? The one with the little terror?”

“Yes. And his son is not a terror. He’s a sweet little boy.”

“Whatever.”

Diane took a deep breath and released it with a whoosh. “There’s one more thing. I forgive you for what happened and . . . I don’t hate you anymore.”

Silence screamed on the other end of the line.

The lump in her throat swelled to the point that it hurt to swallow. It didn’t surprise Diane that her mother refused to respond, but it felt so good to just release the hurt and not harbor anger and bitterness anymore.

“Mother? Did you hear me? I said I forgive you.”

She heard a click, and the line went dead. Diane dropped the phone and wept.

“Why won’t you let me in, Mother? Why?”

*   *   *

Dave was so tense all morning he’d forgotten to eat breakfast or even shave. He couldn’t reach Pastor Lane, and he really needed to talk to him. After leaving another message, he began pacing in frustration.

Five minutes later his cell phone rang.
Please, God.

He flipped it open without looking at the number and said, “Thank you for finally calling me back, Pastor. I need to talk to you about Diane. I have to tell her something, but I don’t want to do it.”

“Dave? I was calling to tell you what happened with my mother, and you’re already planning to break up with me?”

He groaned. “No!”

“I’m so stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

“Wait. That’s not it. Slow down.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I’m not calling to break up with you. It’s just . . . I need to tell you something about my life, and it’s very hard for me to talk about. I just hope you understand why and you’ll still care about me after I tell you.”

Her voice softened. “What could you possibly tell me that would make me not love you?”

“I can’t do this over the phone. I need to see you in person.”

“All right.”

“It’ll have to be at my place. Joey’s taking a nap, so the timing is great if we don’t want to be interrupted.”

Her voice sounded husky. “It could be dangerous. We might need to be interrupted.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I know. I’ll do my best to keep my hands off you, I promise.”

“That doesn’t sound like much fun.”

He said hoarsely, “Just hurry, okay?”

“I’m on my way.”

*   *   *

Diane braced herself for whatever Dave’s terrible news might be. Maybe he had cancer. No, too drastic.

He had erectile dysfunction. Okay, that would be difficult to deal with, but they’d figure something out once they were married. Modern medicine could remedy that.

Maybe he was going to be forced to declare bankruptcy or he’d lose everything. She couldn’t imagine what else could be so bad that it had him all worked up.

As usual, Dave opened the door before she knocked. Only this time, instead of drawing her into his arms, he looked rather uncomfortable. His eyes peered everywhere but at her face.

He peeked up, but then cast his gaze down again. “Glad you’ve come.”

Diane tried to make eye contact and even leaned into his line of vision. “What’s up?”

When he didn’t answer, she took a tentative step forward and wrapped her arms around him. He engaged her in a brief embrace before backing away and heading toward the couch.

Now she suspected the worst. Her throat squeezed. He couldn’t even look at her. A chill raced through her limbs. Maybe now that he’d thought about her past he’d decided it was too much to deal with. Worse yet, maybe he’d tell her someone had molested him too. The horrid possibilities seemed endless.

Clearing her throat, she sat down. “You’re scaring me, Dave. Please, just tell me what’s going on. I’m going crazy here.”

Cringing, he moved to put some space between them and clasped his hands on his lap. “I’m not sure how to begin, but Lord knows I have to tell you this, so here goes.” He paused, finally said, “This morning when I was making my bed I thought about us, and I thought about what it will be like when we’re married. Then I thought about Merilee. I . . . thought about our last day together before she died. I need to tell you what’s been bugging me.”

He chanced a peek at her. His eyes reminded her of a scared young boy.

She considered reaching for his hand, but changed her mind and folded them on her lap. When his gaze met hers again, her heart clenched.

“Hold on a minute. Before you say anything, I want to know why you’re looking at me as if you don’t think you can trust me. Have I ever lied to you?”

BOOK: Letting Go (Healing Hearts)
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