Daniel's Gift (38 page)

"I had to take control. I was the oldest. Jenny was only fifteen years old. She needed me."

"In the beginning, maybe, but not for the past ten years, Merrilee. You know, I work a lot of overtime, most of it legitimately, because you have such high expectations. I've been killing myself trying to live up to your standards. But I can't do it."

"I never told you to work overtime. I just wanted you to have a successful career. And this isn't about my standards, Richard. You cheated on me. I don't know if I can ever forgive you for that."

"I'm sure you can't. Just like you can never forgive Jenny for loving Luke and having Danny out of wedlock, and you can never forgive Matt for not making it in the pros. You're just like your father." He took off his tie and laid it on the table in front of them, a battle line of red silk.

"I'm not like my father," Merrilee said in horror.

"Yes, you are. John is old and isolated, because he can't accept people for what they are. I see you doing it to our children. William is so determined to get good grades, I caught him studying at midnight with a flashlight. He's eleven years old, for God's sake."

Richard's criticism cut through her soul, and Merrilee hated to admit there was even a hint of truth to it. "You're a fine one to talk, Richard. You're not even home with the children. And I love my brother and sister. They don't feel that I'm critical and controlling."

"Don't they? Come on, Merrilee. Lie to me if you want, but don't lie to yourself. And don't you feel the same way about your own father? That what you do is never good enough?"

Merrilee looked away from his eyes. Of course, she did. He was right -- at least about John. She would give him that much. But Matt and Jenny were different. They knew she loved them. Didn't they?

"This is not just about me, Richard," Merrilee said forcefully. "You used to listen to me. You used to share things. I can't talk to you anymore. Even when you're physically in the house, mentally you're somewhere else. I've had sole responsibility for the kids for years now, and it's wearing on me, too. Constance is always pushing her limits, testing me, and William is right behind her. You want to talk about pressure, stay home for a few days and deal with your kids."

Richard looked taken aback. "You always look so calm, like you've spent the day painting your fingernails."

"I work every second trying to make it look that way, but it's not, Richard. It's not, dammit." She stood up and began to pace, agitated out of her mind.

"So what do we do now?" Richard asked.

She stopped and stared at him. "I don't know. Do you think we have anything left to save?"

"Do you?"

Merrilee was afraid to say yes, to put her heart on the line, but this was her marriage they were talking about, her life.

"We could go to a counselor," Richard suggested quietly.

A counselor? An outsider? Pour out her troubles to a complete stranger? She would feel like a failure, a misfit. "I don't know if I could do that," she said.

Richard stood up and put his hands on her shoulders. "We have to do something, Merrilee. Unless -- unless you want to call it quits?"

Did she? Merrilee leaned against the kitchen counter. She thought about the past seventeen years and knew she had invested too much in this man to just walk away. But how could she ever trust him again? Would she spend the rest of her life wondering if he was working late or with another woman? Was that worse than being alone? She was almost forty years old. She didn't want to start over. And the children. They loved their father.

"Can you give me another chance?" Richard asked.

Merrilee took in a deep breath and let it out. "I'll think about it."

The kitchen door opened and William walked in. "Is it time for dinner, yet?" he asked.

Merrilee sighed. Dinner. Her whole life had changed, but there was still dinner to get on the table.

"In a second," she said. "Why don't you call your sister?"

William sent her a strange look. "Connie? She's not here."

"What do you mean, she's not here?"

"She left with that guy on the motorcycle, about an hour ago. I told her you'd be mad," William said, nodding his head up and down in a knowing manner. "But she said all you cared about was Danny."

"What?" Merrilee ran through the house and opened the front door. The street in front of the house was empty. Fragmented conversations with Constance ran through her mind, the late-night phone calls, the whispers, the makeup.

Richard put his arm around her waist. "She'll be all right."

"I can't believe she's run off like this. Just like Danny," she added, suddenly more frightened than angry. So much could happen to a child. How did a parent let go?

"It's not like Danny at all. Ifs a Saturday night, and she's a teenager," Richard said.

"And that's supposed to make me feel better? I can't just do nothing." Merrilee strode back in the house. "I'll call her friends. Somebody must know where she went."

* * *

Danny looked over at Jacob. "I don't suppose you know where Connie went?"

"I might."

"I can't believe she ran away because of me." Danny walked up the stairs to Constance's bedroom. His Aunt Merrilee was sitting on the bed looking totally depressed. She was holding a piece of paper in her hand, and shaking her head as if she couldn't believe what she was reading.

Jacob muttered something under his breath as he peered over Merrilee's shoulder.

"What does it say?" Danny asked.

"Said she's tired of living in a house where nobody has time for her anymore."

"Because of me?"

"Looks that way. Yep, in fact she mentions you by name."

"Great."

Danny looked up as Richard walked into the room. He paused in the doorway, hands in his pockets. "I've called everyone, Merrilee. No one has seen her or heard from her."

"It's past eleven, Richard. She's not coming back." Merrilee handed him the note. "She's run away."

Richard took the paper from her hand. "Goddammit," he said.

"It's my fault. I shouldn't have spent so much time at the hospital the last two weeks. I should have been here for my daughter."

"It's our fault." He held out his hand. "Come on downstairs. I called Matt. He's trying to track her down."

"Actually it's my fault," Danny said to Jacob as Merrilee and Richard left the room. He sat down at Constance's desk and looked at the photographs she had stuck up on her bulletin board. He had never been super close to Connie. She was older and always bossy, but they had had some fun times over the years. He reached out to move a photograph that was hidden behind another. It was a picture of him and Connie at a birthday party. They were both stuffing cake in their mouths and hamming it up for the camera. He smiled to himself. At least Connie had some guts. Not like William, who never did anything wrong.

He felt bad that she had rim away because of him. He rested his chin in his hands. Things were getting complicated. He had just wanted to find his dad, not mess up everyone else's life. He had wanted things to be better, only now they were worse.

"Maybe I should just be dead," he said glumly.

Jacob spun him around in the chair. "You're quitting on me, kid?"

"It would be easier for everyone."

"And maybe easier for you, too."

"I wasn't thinking about myself. Not this time, anyway."

"Good. I can't stand a quitter."

"I just wish I could make everything right. I could do that if I were an angel, a real angel, couldn't I?" Danny asked, suddenly realizing how much more power he would have.

"Yeah, but you'd be dead, kid."

"That's right."

"It's the good with the bad. Balls and strikes. Roses and thorns -- "

"I get the picture," Danny said.

"About time. Come on. No point in sitting around here. Your Uncle Matt needs our help. Are you in?"

Danny smiled and gave him a high five in response.

* * *

"Jenny, are you in here?" Luke walked through the kitchen into the garage. He stopped in amazement. He had been expecting to see a typical garage, maybe some boxes, a washer, dryer, bicycles, but what he saw was a complete workshop.

There was a workbench filled with shelves and boxes. A hot glue gun sat on the top counter next to a pair of needle-nosed pliers. There were scraps of fabric, gold and silver wires, shells and beads and long strands of thread. Jenny had set up a card table next to the workbench, and there were various pieces of jewelry on display, some obviously finished, others waiting for completion. On the ground next to the table was a stack of boxes, all different sizes, tissue paper, and ribbon.

Jenny looked up as he approached. "Are you back already?"

"Yes. The food's on the table. There wasn't much of a line at this hour."

Jenny glanced down at her watch. "Almost nine. I hadn't realized."

"We've been busy."

"I took up your whole day. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, I enjoyed it."

He watched as Jenny carefully applied what looked like clear glue to the top of a shell. Her movements were carefully controlled, efficient, not a motion wasted.

"What are you doing?" he asked curiously. Although he had helped her collect the shells, he had never really considered what she was going to do with them.

"I'm adding form and substance to the shell. This will dry in a hard pattern, a heart. See?"

Luke bent his head to take a closer look. "It's perfect. You're pretty good at this."

"Practice. After it dries, I'll paint it. I'm trying to develop more complex designs, mixing the gold and silver filigree with the shells to give the jewelry a more expensive look."

Luke moved around to the other side of her. Besides earrings and necklaces, Jenny had made small jewelry boxes out of some type of clay.

"These are nice," he said.

Jenny smiled. "A step above the white cardboard, anyway."

"I'm impressed. I had no idea you were so talented," Luke said. And he was impressed. On the shelves over her workbench, Jenny had a stack of books, some about crafts, others about running a business. This was obviously not a part-time hobby for her. She had invested time, money, and energy into her enterprise.

"It's not such a big deal." Jenny stretched her arms high over her head. She was wearing black leggings and a soft winter white sweater. She looked adorable, sexy, and exhausted. They had had a busy day, finding seashells, running errands, and visiting Danny. He was amazed at her endurance, and the pace that was a part of her daily life.

"You should go home. It's late," Jenny said.

"I should," he agreed. But as he turned to leave, he tripped over a step stool.

Jenny caught him in her arms with a laugh. "Easy."

He hugged her body to steady himself and because it felt so damn good to be close to her.

Her laughter ended abruptly as he turned his face toward hers. Her mouth was just a breath away. It would be so easy to kiss her and so tempting. She had held him at arm's length all day, and he had let her. But now she wasn't moving, and neither was he.

"Luke." She said his name like a plea, but he didn't know if she wanted him to go or to stay.

"One kiss."

She shook her head. "Five," she whispered with a smile."

"Ten"

"Fifteen."

"Jenny, you're negotiating upward."

"Shut up and kiss me."

He lowered his head.

The phone in the kitchen rang. Jenny immediately stepped away. He knew she had to answer it. The hospital could be calling about Danny.

He followed her into the kitchen and leaned against the doorjamb as Jenny picked up the receiver. He watched her face tighten with alarm. Please don't let it be Danny, he prayed.

"What can I do to help, Merrilee?" Jenny asked.

Luke relaxed. Merrilee. Not the hospital. Thank God.

"How long has she been gone?" Jenny looked down at her watch. "It's almost nine."

Luke met her worried eyes. She put a hand over the receiver and whispered, "Connie has run away." Jenny turned her attention back to Merrilee. "I'm on my way. No, I want to come. I love her, too." She hung up the phone.

"Jenny, you've been working all day. You should go to bed."

"I have to look for Connie."

"I'll come with you."

"No." Jenny put a hand out as he tried to protest. "Go home, Luke. This is my family, not yours."

Her words cut him to the quick, and he turned away so she wouldn't see the pain on his face. "Fine." He picked his keys up off the counter and headed for the door.

"Luke, wait. I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

He looked into Jenny's eyes. "You've made it clear you don't want my help. I just don't understand why."

"I don't want to be dependent on you, Luke. For a while you were my whole life, and when you left, I had nothing. I can't risk that again. I won't go into a relationship unless I can be an equal partner."