A Little New Year's Romance (3 page)

Daniel followed her to the checkout counter when she was finished, and paid for the purchase.

“Have a wonderful day, sir,” she called after him as he headed toward the door.

“Thank you, Taylor. I think I will.” He paused and turned. “By the way, if the woman comes back and inquires about it, please don’t mention that I bought it for her. I’d like it to be a surprise.”

Taylor’s mouth turned up in a conspiratorial grin. “She won’t hear it from me.”

Stepping back out into the cold winter air, he turned and walked back to the parking garage to get his car. He passed a spot where a few cabs seemed to linger, waiting for a fare to hop in.

A block further down, he retrieved his car and headed home, but Allison’s eyes wouldn’t leave his mind. There was such sadness in those gorgeous grey eyes. He knew what that looked like—he’d seen it in his own eyes more than once in his life. He’d often wished things had been different, but he’d long since learned that everything happens for a reason.

“Thank you, Lord, for allowing me to bump into Allison,” he whispered. “I know You brought our paths together to serve a higher purpose. I will do what I need to do, but I ask You to lead me in what You want me to do for her. Thank You for hearing my prayer, Lord. Amen.”

Yes, he’d helped others in the past, but he’d never forget the electricity he endured when she took his hand. It was something that hadn’t ever happened—until today. He couldn’t help wondering if God had brought Allison to him for a purpose other than just helping her.

CHAPTER THREE

New Year’s day held no joy for her. She didn’t care one bit about some stupid ball coming down in Time’s Square, either. That’s why she’d gone to bed early, and took the opportunity to get a little extra sleep. Until her phone rang.

The caller ID showed it was her friend and former co-worker. She pressed the Talk button.

“Hi, Marcy.”

“Happy New Year, Allison!”

She resisted the urge to groan. “You know I don’t care much for holidays.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that. I just wanted to call and see how you’re doing.” She detected an honest concern in her friend’s voice. “Any new job possibilities since the last time we talked?”

“No.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Not really. I don’t know what I’m gonna do, Marcy. I mean, I don’t wanna go back to Pennsylvania, and Mom’s way up there in Maine, so I’m out of options if something doesn’t come along soon.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.” A momentary pause. “If it wasn’t for Bill’s job, I don’t know what we’d do. Thank God we don’t have any kids yet.”

Allison wasn’t in the mood to be thankful to that Deity for anything—especially when He seemed to want nothing more than to keep her face in the dirt.

“Yeah, well, thank whomever you want, but don’t expect me to do the same.”

“It’s just an expression. I meant nothing more than that.”

“I know.” Allison was lucky to have Marcy as a friend. She was a good woman with a good heart. “So… what about you? Any luck with the job hunting?”

“Had a possible one last week, but then they decided their budget couldn’t handle the hiring of a new employee.”

“Let me guess. It was Lockhart Press, wasn’t it?”

“How did you know?” The timbre in Marcy’s voice went up.

Allison chuckled for a couple seconds. “I applied there, too, and they told me the same thing a few days later.”

The women shared a congenial laugh.

“Well, I’m not giving up just yet.” Marcy’s tone had become a bit defiant.

“And I can’t afford to do that.” Allison glanced at the clock on her nightstand. “Hey, I have to hang up now. It’s Mom and David’s anniversary, and I really should call her.”

“Okay. No problem. Talk to ya later, then.”

Allison turned her phone off. She made a quick trip to the bathroom, then headed into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee and make herself an egg sandwich on toast to quell the rumbling in her stomach. Not having her belly screaming at her, she could concentrate on other things—like calling Mom.

A minor dread filled her heart, quickly spreading throughout her body. Mom had nearly fallen apart when Dad died, and David was there for her. But that wasn’t what caused Allison’s trepidation. David was a preacher and Mom had been vulnerable. He’d indoctrinated her in the ways of the church, and she’d fallen under his spell. A little more than a year later they were married, and now Mom was as much a Bible thumper as her second husband.

Taking a seat on the sofa, hoping her mother wouldn’t bring up all the war-torn subjects again—“Have you found a boyfriend yet?” “I’d like to be a grandmother before I die.”—she cautiously dialed the number.

“Hello?” Ruby Springer’s voice sounded cheerful.

“Happy Anniversary, Mom.”

“Allison! What a nice surprise!”

She wanted to snort, but held it back. “Don’t act so shocked, Mom. I call you every year.”

A pause. “Well, that’s true. But you
could
call a little more often, you know.”

“Why? So I can hear you preach about how I should be going to church to worship some supreme being that may or may not actually exist?” She hadn’t wanted to lash out, but some part of her needed to rebel.

She heard Ruby’s sharp inhale. “I don’t know why you have to be this way, Allison. Whatever your reason is, I know that someday you’ll change your mind.”

“Okay, Mom. Can we stop this right here before we both get upset.” She took a small breath. “I’m not sure why I said that, but I didn’t call to argue with you.”

“Yes. I think that would be best.” Allison could visualize her mother’s smug grin. “So… have you been promoted yet? As long as you’ve been there, that’s the least they could do for you.”

She took a deep breath. Better to tell her now than delay any further. “Elite Editing had to close up, Mom. I’ve been out of work for about two weeks.”

“Oh, my!” Ruby sounded dazed at the news. “Have you found other employment, dear?”

“Not yet. I’m still looking.”

“You’ll find a good one. I know you will.” She sensed there was more to come, so she waited a few seconds for her mother to continue. “You’re an excellent editor, Allison. The right job will come along soon.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mom.” She glanced at the time on her phone. Eleven o’clock. Where did the morning go? Didn’t she have somewhere to be soon? “I have to go now. Hope you and David have a Happy Anniversary.”

“Thanks, dear. We will. Call again soon, okay?”

“I’ll try.” She hung up, tossed the phone on the coffee table and headed into the bathroom for a good, long shower.

~~*~~

“Do you want to come with me today?” Daniel pushed the wheelchair up to the table so the boy could eat the breakfast he’d prepared. “Or would you rather stay here with Mrs. Woodrow?”

“I like her. She’s nice,” the boy replied.

“That’s fine. I just thought you might want to get out for a change.” He smiled, hoping it showed in his eyes. Daniel loved his eight-year-old son more than anything in the world. He would do whatever he could to help the boy, but there weren’t many doctors familiar with the rare bone disease afflicting his only child. Sure, there were experimental treatments, however, none of them had shown much hope of success for Dylan’s diagnosis.

“Dad…” The boy trailed off as tears began to form in his eyes.

“It’s okay, Dylan. I understand.” That was true. The boy was sensitive—like his mother, may she rest peacefully in the arms of the Lord—and he felt like a sideshow freak in public. People were always stopping to stare at the kid in the wheelchair as if they’d never seen anything like it in their lives.

“I’m sorry.” Dylan’s face twisted and the hot rain fell down his cheeks.

Daniel knelt in front of his son’s chair, pulled him close, and stroked his hair with a tenderness only a loving father could impart.

“Please don’t feel that way. I really do understand what it’s like. I didn’t mean to upset you, son.” Daniel felt Dylan’s arms wrap around him as the boy simply sobbed onto his shoulder.

Minutes passed as Daniel continued to soothe the boy the only way he knew how. He only wanted his son to be happy, and he’d prayed for a miracle, but it hadn’t come. That fact didn’t quell his desire for Dylan to have a normal childhood, so he continued to ask for that one thing. Silently, he asked once again, knowing it wouldn’t be the last time.

Dylan’s arms relaxed as his weeping subsided. Daniel released him, and the boy sat back in his wheelchair. He stared into his son’s eyes, holding the child’s attention for several seconds.

“I apologize for making you feel bad this morning. I didn’t mean to do that.” He let his gaze fall to his son’s chest that seemed so thin and frail.

“It’s okay, Dad.” Dylan’s voice hitched as his tears finally dried. “It’s not your fault.”

Daniel smiled, cupped the boy’s face in both of his hands, and wiped his tears away. He moved the wheelchair back up to the table, then seated himself.

“I made your favorites this morning,” he said, piling his son’s plate with waffles, sausage patties, and scrambled eggs.

Dylan’s eyes opened wide, and lit up brighter than the Christmas tree in Central Park. “Wow! I wish it could be New Year’s Day every day!”

Daniel chuckled. “Well, I didn’t cook all this just because it’s New Year’s.”

Dylan’s face contorted with a puzzled look.

“I made your special breakfast because I’m so glad you’re my son.” He paused, gauging Dylan’s reaction. He still seemed confused. “But that’s not all. I did it because you are the one person in this world that I love more than anything.”

It was apparent to Daniel that his words were exactly what his son needed to hear. The grin on the boy’s face—and the gleam in those bright blue eyes that were so much like his mother’s—told him he’d succeeded in cheering the child.

“I love you too, Dad.”

For the next several minutes, father and son enjoyed their meal in the stillness of the morning. Dylan was the first to break the silence.

“Dad? I’ve been thinking.”

Daniel glanced over at the boy. “Oh? What have you been thinking about?”

“You’re right. I’d like to get out for a little while, so I’m gonna go with you today.”

“Are you sure, buddy?”

“Yep. All the people there are nice, and they don’t stare at me.”

~~*~~

Why did she allow herself to get irritated with her mother? Allison knew that the woman hadn’t meant anything other than what she’d stated. And she was right—Allison
could
call her more often. But some part of her felt as though Ruby always attacked her. She didn’t understand it—didn’t like it, either—but that’s the way it was.

She’d been a happy person until her eighteenth birthday. That was when her father was killed by a drunk driver. Her life was changed forever that day. And yes, she was still upset about it, although it had been ten years.

Having showered and dressed for the day, she wandered through the apartment that wouldn’t be hers much longer. Strangely, she couldn’t help thinking about her life. Why was it that on this, of all days, she felt compelled to reflect on it? And why did she have a need to blame the only One who never stopped loving her? The One to whom she’d always prayed—until that day.

The answer was simple. Thanks to Him, her life was a mess. She was good at what she did for a living, but every time she had a good thing going,
wham
! He’d make sure she fell flat on her face. But was that really true? Was God really to blame, or was He just a convenient target for her anger?

A better question was whether He was the one she’d had that conversation with the previous day. It seemed logical that it was Him, though a part of her still wanted to doubt.

Okay, that was more than enough introspection. She had somewhere to go, and the cab would soon be here to pick her up. Where was it that she was going? The card was in the pocket of her coat hanging on a hook next to the front door. She pulled it out and looked at it. Oh, yeah. A church in the Bronx.

Why would that man—Daniel?—want to meet her at a church? On New Year’s Day? She couldn’t make much sense of it. But then, he did say something about giving her life some meaning—the same thing she’d inadvertently prayed for only moments before she bumped into him. Her curiosity was piqued, so that was good enough reason to find out what he’d meant. Besides, she didn’t have anything else to do, and it might even turn out to be a good day. She could use a few of those.

There was another card in the same coat pocket from James, the cab driver. Noting the time on her watch, she went to the window to see if he was early. He wasn’t, but he’d be arriving within the next ten minutes. Still enough time to check her hair and makeup in the mirror. Yep, it was acceptable.

She made her way across the living room one more time, heading toward the door, and grabbed her purse and keys as she went. Slipping her arms into the coat, she spoke aloud.

“Okay, Allison. Time to go see what this is all about.”

She’d intended the words to impart encouragement to herself, though they sounded odd in the still, silent, sparsely furnished apartment.

With a sigh, she pulled the door open, stepped out into the corridor, made sure the door was locked, and headed down the stairs from the second floor. She stood at the main door of the building for a few minutes, waiting for James to arrive. Before long, the cab pulled up at the curb and she hurried out to make the trip to the Bronx.

An excitement welled up within her. The expectancy and anticipation of beginning a new journey enfolded her, and she couldn’t help feeling like a child again. In the deep recesses of her soul, she knew that today she’d take the first step of a new life.

CHAPTER FOUR

The church on Baychester Avenue would never be a rival in size to St. Patrick’s Cathedral, though it was large enough to hold several hundred worshippers. Allison had barely closed the door behind her when a middle-aged woman greeted her with an outstretched hand.