Local Hero (19 page)

“Stupid.” The dog at his feet yawned in agreement. “What I should do is go down to that damn bank and drag her out. She'd love that, wouldn't she?” he said with a laugh as he pushed away from the machine and stretched. “I could beg.” Mitch rolled that around in his mind and found it uncomfortable. “I could, but we'd probably both be sorry. There's not much left after reasoning, and I've tried that. What would Zark do?”

Mitch rocked back on his heels and closed his eyes. Would Zark, hero and saint, back off? Would Zark, defender of right and justice, bow out gracefully? Nope, Mitch decided. When it came to love, Zark was a patsy. Leilah kept kicking astrodust in his face, but he was still determined to win her back.

At least Hester hadn't tried to poison him with nerve gas. Leilah had pulled that and more, but Zark was still nuts about her.

Mitch studied the poster of Zark he'd tacked to the wall for inspiration. We're in the same boat, buddy, but I'm not going to pull out the oars and start rowing, either. And Hester's going to find herself in some turbulent waters.

He glanced at the clock on his desk, but remembered it had stopped two days before. He was pretty sure he'd sent his watch to the laundry along with his socks. Because he wanted to see how much time he had before Hester was due home, he walked into the living room. There, on the table, was an old mantel clock that Mitch was fond enough of to remember to wind. Just as he glanced at it, he heard Radley at the door.

“Right on time,” Mitch said when he swung the door open. “How cold is it?” He grazed his knuckles down Radley's cheek in a routine they'd developed. “Forty-three degrees.”

“It's sunny,” Radley said, dragging off his backpack.

“Shooting for the park, are you?” Mitch waited until Radley had folded his coat neatly over the arm of the sofa. “Maybe I can handle it after I fortify myself. Mrs. Jablanski next door made cookies. She feels sorry for me because no one's fixing me hot meals, so I copped a dozen.”

“What kind?”

“Peanut butter.”

“All right!” Radley was already streaking into the kitchen. He liked the ebony wood and smoked glass table Mitch had set by the wall. Mostly because Mitch didn't mind if the glass got smeared with fingerprints. He settled down, content with milk and cookies and Mitch's company. “We have to do a dumb state project,” he said with his mouth full. “I got Rhode Island. It's the smallest state. I wanted Texas.”

“Rhode Island.” Mitch smiled and munched on a cookie. “Is that so bad?”

“Nobody cares about Rhode Island. I mean, they've got the Alamo and stuff in Texas.”

“Well, maybe I can give you a hand with it. I was born there.”

“In Rhode Island? Honest?” The tiny state took on a new interest.

“Yeah. How long do you have?”

“Six weeks,” Radley said with a shrug as he reached for another cookie. “We've got to do illustrations, which is okay, but we've got to do junk like manufacturing and natural resources, too. How come you moved away?”

He started to make some easy remark, then decided to honor Hester's code of honesty. “I didn't get along with my parents very well. We're better friends now.”

“Sometimes people go away and don't come back.”

The boy spoke so matter-of-factly that Mitch found himself responding the same way. “I know.”

“I used to worry that Mom would go away. She didn't.”

“She loves you.” Mitch ran a hand along the boy's hair.

“Are you going to marry her?”

Mitch paused in midstroke. “Well, I . . .” Just how did he handle this one? “I guess I've been thinking about it.” Feeling ridiculously nervous, he rose to heat up his coffee. “Actually, I've been thinking about it a lot. How would you feel if I did?”

“Would you live with us all the time?”

“That's the idea.” He poured the coffee, then sat down beside Radley again. “Would that bother you?”

Radley looked at him with dark and suddenly inscrutable eyes. “One of my friends' moms got married again. Kevin says since they did his stepfather isn't his friend anymore.”

“Do you think if I married your mom I'd stop being your friend?” He caught Radley's chin in his hand. “I'm not your friend because of your mom, but because of you. I can promise that won't change when I'm your stepfather.”

“You wouldn't be my stepfather. I don't want one of those.” Radley's chin trembled in Mitch's hand. “I want a real one. Real ones don't go away.”

Mitch slipped his hands under Radley's arms and lifted him onto his lap. “You're right. Real ones don't.” Out of the mouth of babes, he thought, and nuzzled Radley against him. “You know, I haven't had much practice being a father. Are you going to get mad at me if I mess up once in a while?”

Radley shook his head and burrowed closer. “Can we tell Mom?”

Mitch managed a laugh. “Yeah, good idea. Get your coat, Sergeant, we're going on a very important mission.”

***

Hester was up to her elbows in numbers. For some reason, she was having a great deal of trouble adding two and two. It didn't seem terribly important anymore. That, she knew, was a sure sign of trouble. She went through files, calculated and assessed, then closed them again with no feeling at all.

His fault, she told herself. It was Mitch's fault that she was only going through the motions, and thinking about going through the same motions day after day for the next twenty years. He'd made her question herself. He'd made her deal with the pain and anger she'd tried to bury. He'd made her want what she'd once sworn never to want again.

And now what? She propped her elbows on the stack of files and stared into space. She was in love, more deeply and more richly in love than she'd ever been before. The man she was in love with was exciting, kind and committed, and he was offering her a new beginning.

That was what she was afraid of, Hester admitted. That was what she kept heading away from. She hadn't fully understood before that she had blamed herself, not Allan, all these years. She had looked on the breakup of her marriage as a personal mistake, a private failure. Rather than risk another failure, she was turning away her first true hope.

She said it was because of Radley, but that was only partly true. Just as the divorce had been a private failure, making a full commitment to Mitch had been a private fear.

He'd been right, she told herself. He'd been right about so many things all along. She wasn't the same woman who had loved and married Allan Wallace. She wasn't even the same woman who had struggled for a handhold when she'd found herself alone with a small child.

When was she going to stop punishing herself? Now, Hester decided, picking up the phone. Right now. Her hand was steady as she dialed Mitch's number, but her heart wasn't. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and listened to the phone ring—and ring.

“Oh, Mitch, won't we ever get the timing right?” She hung up the receiver and promised herself she wouldn't lose her courage. In an hour she would go home and tell him she was ready for that new beginning.

At Kay's buzz, Hester picked up the receiver again. “Yes, Kay.”

“Mrs. Wallace, there's someone here to see you about a loan.”

With a frown, Hester checked her calendar. “I don't have anything scheduled.”

“I thought you could fit him in.”

“All right, but buzz me in twenty minutes. I've got to clear some things up before I leave.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Hester tidied her desk and was preparing to rise when Mitch walked in. “Mitch? I was just . . . What are you doing here? Rad?”

“He's waiting with Taz in the lobby.”

“Kay said I had someone waiting to see me.”

“That's me.” He stepped up to the desk and set down a briefcase.

She started to reach for his hand, but his face seemed so set. “Mitch, you didn't have to say you'd come to apply for a loan.”

“That's just what I'm doing.”

She smiled and settled back. “Don't be silly.”

“Mrs. Wallace, you
are
the loan officer at this bank?”

“Mitch, really, this isn't necessary.”

“I'd hate to tell Rosen you sent me to a competitor.” He flipped open the briefcase. “I've brought the financial information usual in these cases. I assume you have the necessary forms for a mortgage application?”

“Of course, but—”

“Then why don't you get one out?”

“All right, then.” If he wanted to play games, she'd oblige him. “So you're interested in securing a mortgage. Are you purchasing the property for investment purposes, for rental or for a business?”

“No, it's purely personal.”

“I see. Do you have a contract of sale?”

“Right here.” It pleased him to see her mouth drop open.

Taking the papers from him, Hester studied them. “This is real.”

“Of course it's real. I put a bid on the place a couple of weeks ago.” He scratched at his chin as if thinking back. “Let's see, that would have been the day I had to forgo pot roast. You haven't offered it again.”

“You bought a house?” She scanned the papers again. “In Connecticut?”

“They accepted my offer. The papers just came through. I believe the bank will want to get its own appraisal. There is a fee for that, isn't there?”

“What? Oh, yes, I'll fill out the papers.”

“Fine. In the meantime, I do have some snapshots and a blueprint.” He slipped them out of the briefcase and placed them on her desk. “You might want to look them over.”

“I don't understand.”

“You might begin to if you look at the pictures.”

She lifted them and stared at her fantasy house. It was big and sprawling, with porches all around and tall, wide windows. Snow mantled the evergreens beside the steps and lay stark and white on the roof.

“There are a couple of outbuildings you can't see. A barn, a henhouse—both unoccupied at the moment. The lot is about five acres, with woods and a stream. The real estate agent claims the fishing's good. The roof needs some work and the gutters have to be replaced, and inside it could use some paint or paper and a little help with the plumbing. But it's sound.” He watched her as he spoke. She didn't look up at him, but continued to stare, mesmerized by the snapshots. “The house has been standing for a hundred and fifty years. I figure it'll hold up a while longer.”

“It's lovely.” Tears pricked the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away. “Really lovely.”

“Is that from the bank's point of view?”

She shook her head. He wasn't going to make it easy. And he shouldn't, she admitted to herself. She'd already made it difficult enough for both of them. “I didn't know you were thinking of relocating. What about your work?”

“I can set up my drawing board in Connecticut just as easily as I can here. It's a reasonable commute, and I don't exactly spend a lot of time in the office.”

“That's true.” She picked up a pen, but rather than writing down the necessary information only ran it through her fingers.

“I'm told there's a bank in town. Nothing along the lines of National Trust, but a small independent bank. Seems to me someone with experience could get a good position there.”

“I've always preferred small banks.” There was a lump in her throat that had to be swallowed. “Small towns.”

“They've got a couple of good schools. The elementary school is next to a farm. I'm told sometimes the cows get over the fence and into the playground.”

“Looks like you've covered everything.”

“I think so.”

She stared down at the pictures, wondering how he could have found what she'd always wanted and how she could have been lucky enough that he would have cared. “Are you doing this for me?”

“No.” He waited until she looked at him. “I'm doing it for us.”

Her eyes filled again. “I don't deserve you.”

“I know.” Then he took both her hands and lifted her to her feet. “So you'd be pretty stupid to turn down such a good deal.”

“I'd hate to think I was stupid.” She drew her hands away to come around the desk to him. “I need to tell you something, but I'd like you to kiss me first.”

“Is that the way you get loans around here?” Taking her by the lapels, he dragged her against him. “I'm going to have to report you, Mrs. Wallace. Later.”

He closed his mouth over hers and felt the give, the strength and the acceptance. With a quiet sound of pleasure, he slipped his hands up to her face and felt the slow, lovely curve of her lips as she smiled.

“Does this mean I get the loan?”

“We'll talk business in a minute.” She held on just a little longer, then drew away. “Before you came in, I'd been sitting here. Actually, I'd been sitting here for the last couple of days, not getting anything done because I was thinking of you.”

“Go on, I think I'm going to like this story.”

“When I wasn't thinking about you, I was thinking about myself and the last dozen years of my life. I've put a lot of energy into
not
thinking about it, so it wasn't easy.”

She kept his hand in hers but took another step away. “I realize that what happened to me and Allan was destined to happen. If I'd been smarter or stronger, I would have been able to admit a long time ago that what we had could only be temporary. Maybe if he hadn't left the way he did . . .” She trailed off, shaking her head. “It doesn't matter now. That's the point I had to come to, that it just doesn't matter. Mitch, I don't want to live the rest of my life wondering if you and I could have made it work. I'd rather spend the rest of my life
trying
to make it work. Before you came in today with all of this, I'd decided to ask you if you still wanted to marry me.”