Sweet Home Colorado (The O'Malley Men) (15 page)

Returning to the living room, Grace shuffled through the papers
until she located the phone number she needed. She had to do this now, not
tomorrow, not next week.

With trembling fingers, she punched in the number and
waited.

“Amelia Johansen speaking.”

Grace froze. She hadn’t given a thought to the fact that her
daughter might answer the phone.

“Hello?”

Oh, God! What should she do? Hang up? No! This was her
daughter. She couldn’t hang up on her.

Grace cleared her throat. “Hi! This is Gr— Dr. Saunders,” she
said. “Could I speak with your mom or dad, please?”

“Sure,” Amelia said, and Grace’s heart turned over at the sound
of her daughter’s voice. “Mom! Dad! There’s some doctor on the phone for
you!”

Grace heard the phone being put down and Amelia—her
child—walking away, humming. She smiled at that. She used to hum to herself.
What did her daughter look like? Grace wondered. Was she tall, dark-haired,
blue-eyed like her father? For twelve long years, Grace had resisted learning
anything about her, fearing that if she did, she’d want to go and claim her in a
weak moment—which was, of course, totally illegal under the terms of the
adoption. But still, she didn’t trust herself, so she’d asked Amy and Gil
Johansen not to send her photos or updates on Amelia, although she did make sure
it was okay for her to send presents on Amelia’s birthdays and at Christmas. She
signed the cards
Grace,
not
Mom.
Amy was Amelia’s mom.

“Hello?”

Grace recognized Amy’s voice. Even after all these years, she
sounded the same.

“Amy, it’s Grace Saunders,” she said quickly. “Don’t worry, I
didn’t tell Amelia who I am.”

“Thank God!” Amy breathed. “She said it was a doctor on the
phone.”

“I
am
a doctor, Amy.”

“Oh.” She could tell the other woman was confused, imagined her
taking a seat, trying to deal with the fact that her daughter’s birth mother was
calling after all these years.

“What can I do for you, Gr—er, Doctor?” she asked, and Grace
guessed Amelia had come back into the room. “Can you give me a moment?” Amy
asked. “I need to go somewhere more private.”

“What’s up, Mom?” Grace heard her daughter ask. “Gramma’s okay,
isn’t she?”

Her daughter sounded concerned—so Amelia was a caring person.
That was good. Better than good. It meant the Johansens were raising her
properly.

“Gramma’s fine, honey. I just didn’t want to interrupt your
reading.”

And her daughter liked to read? Grace felt her heart swell.
More than ever, she wanted to meet this little girl.

“Okay, I’m in another room. What can I do for you, Grace?” she
asked again.

Grace took a deep breath, unsure how her request would be
received. “Remember, when you adopted Amelia, that I had one request?”

“Ye-es,” the other woman said. “You asked if you could meet
her, when you felt it was time.”

“It’s time,” Grace said, and her voice broke. She grabbed at
the bridge of her nose, trying to stem her tears.

“Grace? Are you all right?” Amy asked. “Are you crying?”

“I am,” Grace admitted, half laughing at herself. “I am. But
they’re happy tears, I think.”

“That’s good,” the other woman said.

Amy was so calm. It was one of the things that had helped Grace
choose the Johansens to be Amelia’s parents. She wanted her to have a mother who
was calm, who wouldn’t fly off the handle or be impatient. A mother who would
love her unconditionally.

Guilt pierced Grace’s heart. Her request might drive a wedge
between Amy and Amelia. She couldn’t do that to them. “Forget it,” she said
quickly. “Forget I called.”

She was about to hang up when she heard Amy say loudly,
“Grace!”

Amy was usually soft-spoken, but her shout made Grace lift the
phone to her ear again. “I’m still here,” she said.

“Thank goodness! I’ve wanted to get in touch with you for a
while. She wants to meet you, Grace!” Amy spoke almost breathlessly. “Ever since
her last birthday, she’s been pestering me with questions about you. It’s so
strange, because before that she hardly ever did. Please say you still want to
meet her, too?”

Grace could have wept with joy. “Thank you!” she breathed.

“Don’t thank me, thank
you,
Grace,
for giving us the gift of our beautiful daughter.”

Grace closed her eyes, knowing she
had
done the right thing by giving Amelia to these kind and loving
parents. But she’d done the wrong thing by denying Amelia’s father knowledge of
her—and she needed to make that right.

“I’d like to arrange to meet Amelia as soon as possible, Amy.
But first I need to tell you something. And you might not like it.”

* * *

H
ALF
AN
HOUR
LATER
, Grace hung up the phone. How
different she felt from last night, when she thought her world had ended.
Tomorrow, she would meet her daughter. Elation bubbled up inside Grace, spilling
over until she laughed out loud. And not just meet her, she was going to spend
the weekend with Amelia and her family. Amy had invited her to stay so they
could all get to know one another.

Amy wasn’t upset that Grace had lied about Amelia’s father when
they’d signed the adoption paperwork. The biological father had to agree to the
adoption, so Grace had stated “Father Unknown” on Amelia’s birth certificate. In
fact, Amy had wanted to hear all about Jack, what he did, where he lived. Grace
had told her everything—about how they’d met and eventually split up, Jack’s
service with the peace corps, his time in the seminary, his apprenticeship
program for disadvantaged youth. She’d spoken with pride of his achievements so
Amy would know what a good person Amelia’s biological father was.

From Amy, she’d learned that Amelia dreamed of becoming a
doctor, that she read profusely, played lacrosse and had a lot of friends.

“I’m going to meet my daughter tomorrow!” she told Millie, and
rubbed her ears. Millie wagged her tail and licked Grace’s hand. “And you’ve
been invited along to meet her, too!” Millie’s tail wagged harder.

In her bedroom Grace searched through her wardrobe, looking for
something suitable to wear the next day. Everything seemed too formal and Amy
had told her to dress casual. But the only really casual clothes Grace had were
those in her suitcase or back in Spruce Lake. She rushed out to the living room
and rummaged around until she came up with her denim skirts. “Perfect!” she
said, taking the longer of the two skirts to her laundry room.

Once the skirt was washed and pressed, Grace laid out her
clothes for the following day—a white camisole, a three-quarter-sleeve blouse
she could leave open overtop, designer sandals. After all, she needed to show
off that pedicure. Packing a few items in an overnight bag, Grace had to take a
deep breath. She was almost jumping out of her skin with joy and
anticipation.

Her takeout had arrived while she was talking with Amy. Grace
reheated it and curled up on the sofa, eating her kung pao chicken right out of
the container with chopsticks while she watched her favorite Sandra Bullock
movie.

And then she was being awakened by the insistent buzzing of her
cell phone. Grace sat up groggily, realizing she’d fallen asleep in front of the
television. She glanced at the screen. Jack.

Grace couldn’t talk to him right now. First, she’d meet her
daughter, then she’d deal with Jack. She switched off her cell, stumbled to the
bathroom, showered and fell asleep still wrapped in her towel.

Chapter Twenty

Jack cursed and slammed his cell phone down on the
countertop.

“I’m so sorry, dear,” Mrs. C. told him as they stood in the
tiny kitchen of the apartment over her shop. “I didn’t find the letters until
just now. Frank and I spent the day in Denver and didn’t get home till late.
Then I cooked his dinner and it was only afterward that I remembered Grace
saying she’d left something here for me. I didn’t realize there was a whole pile
of letters for various people.”

“It’s okay, Mrs. C. I’m just grateful you didn’t wait till
morning to let me know.”

“Would you like me to try calling her?”

“No point. Her phone’s going straight to voice mail and I have
no other way of contacting her.”

“Would she be in the Boston phone directory?”

“No, she told me she has an unlisted number.”

“That’s a shame. What else can we do?”

Jack liked that Mrs. C. wanted to make it her mission to get
ahold of Grace. Lucky he’d still been in town when the old lady called to tell
him Grace had left him a letter. He’d almost not come, he was so angry with her.
But it had chilled him to the bone when Mrs. C. confessed that Grace had paid
three months’ rent—and asked to have the rest of her belongings sent on to
Boston. Jack then knew Grace had left with no intention of returning. He
had
to know what the letter to him said.

He’d read it, not missing the tearstains and her brutal honesty
about why she hadn’t told him about their child, why she’d given her up. And
because Grace had provided Mrs. C. with her shipping address, he now knew where
to find her.

“You, my dear Mrs. C., are going home to look after that
husband of yours. And I’m going to find Grace!”

The old woman’s face lit up and she clapped her hands. “How
romantic!” she said breathlessly.

“I’m going to Boston to get my lady back. And find our
daughter.”

Once he’d left, Jack called two different airlines and found a
flight leaving at midnight from Denver and arriving in Boston via Newark around
eight in the morning. He didn’t have time to go home and pack anything; he
needed to hotfoot it to Denver to catch his flight. The sooner he got to Grace,
the better. The sooner he told her what a complete horse’s backside he was and
beg for her forgiveness, the better.

* * *

G
RACE
WOKE
EARLY
, thrilled to be meeting her daughter. Amy had
invited her for lunch, but when Grace was going through her mail, killing time
before she left, Amy called, saying Amelia was so excited she’d asked if Grace
could come sooner.

“I’m on my way!” Grace said, leaping up from the sofa,
scattering the mail in her haste. She ran the brush through her hair one final
time, grabbed Millie’s leash and the overnight bag and raced out her front
door—slap-bang into Jack’s broad chest.

“Hey!” he said. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

Grace just stared at him mutely.

Jack? Jack was here in Boston? In her apartment?

Maybe she’d dreamed that phone call this morning and was still
asleep? No, it wasn’t a dream, Millie was going insane at the sight of him.

“Gracie?”

His use of her old nickname snapped Grace out of her trance and
she shook her head, unable to grasp that he was really here. “How...how did you
find me?” she asked.

“You left your address for Mrs. C., remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” Grace couldn’t think of an intelligent thing to
say.

“So. Where are you going?” he asked again, indicating her
overnight bag.

“Why are you here?” she countered, not ready to tell him were
she was headed.

“I got your note and tried to call you, but your phone was off.
So I decided to fly here and talk to you in person.”

“In person?”

He frowned. “Yes, in person. Look, can we go inside?” he said,
trying to move her backward into the apartment, but Grace held her ground.

“No!” she said, still having trouble with this surreal
situation. Never in a million years had she imagined finding Jack on her
doorstep. “I have an appointment. I have to leave.”

“Can it wait? I have something important I need to say to
you.”

“I think you said it all yesterday, Jack. I understand. You
hate me.” She could feel the tears again, and she needed to get out of there
before she lost her composure. “Goodbye,” she said, and pushed past him toward
the elevators.

He caught her arm as she pressed the down button.

“Grace, please? Give me five minutes?”

Grace’s shoulders sagged. Since he’d bothered to fly all this
way, she could do that, even if it was to listen to more abuse about the fact
that she’d hidden the existence of their child from him. She deserved it and
owed him at least five minutes for what she’d done. “Okay.” She led the way back
to her apartment. Millie paused on the threshold, unsure what was happening.
“Come, girl!” she said, slapping her thigh.

Leaving her overnight bag by the door, Grace went to the wall
of windows that looked out over the harbor. It was a calming view, in spite of
all the harbor traffic. She needed to work on being calm. Crossing her arms, as
if to protect herself, she waited.

“I’ve been a complete horse’s ass,” Jack said.

She turned toward him, and he held up his hand. “Don’t say
anything—just hear me out, okay?”

* * *

F
IVE
MINUTES
LATER
, true to his word, Jack
stopped speaking. It was the longest speech she’d ever heard him make, but it
was heartfelt and full of apology.
He
was asking her
to forgive
him?

Unable to speak, she held out a hand to him. Jack crossed the
room and pulled her into his arms. “I can’t live without you, I don’t want to
live without you. Please forgive me, Grace. If you’ll come back to Spruce Lake
with me, I’ll never mention our child again. It’ll kill me not to know her, but
you mean everything to me. And if that’s the trade-off, then I can deal with
it.”

Grace lifted a hand to his cheek and said, “I was about to go
and
meet
our daughter when you arrived. Would you
like to come, too?”

This time Jack was mute, so she said, “Her name is Amelia
Johansen and she lives on Cape Cod with her parents, Amy and Gil. They’ve
invited me to stay for the weekend so Amelia and I can get to know each other.
I’m sure they’d all want to meet you. Especially Amelia.”

Tears brimmed in Jack’s eyes as he hugged her. “Yes,” he said.
“Yes, yes, yes!”

* * *

A
S
THEY
PULLED
into the driveway of the neatly tended Cape
Cod home, the front door swung open and a young teen appeared on the
doorstep.

“Is that her?” Jack asked, his voice choked with emotion.

“She looks the right age,” Grace said.

“She looks like you.”

He said the words so softly she turned to him and saw his
smile—the Jack smile she loved so much. “Shall we go and meet her?” she asked,
barely able to keep from wrenching her door off its hinges as they got out.

Millie was pacing the backseat, sensing excitement in the air.
She gave a woof at the same time that a Jack Russell terrier shot out the front
door of the house and dashed toward them. He barked furiously, protecting his
home against the intruders.

Then Millie jumped out, landing gracefully on her three legs,
and he went crazy. Barking and leaping before detecting she wasn’t a threat, he
sniffed her diligently, then came to greet Grace and Jack.

The teen had made her way to their little group. Jack was
ruffling the terrier’s ears but then straightened. “What’s his name?” he asked
the girl as a way of breaking the ice.

“Jack,” she said, then, as if realizing the coincidence,
laughed.

Jack was nearly knocked off his feet. She was almost the image
of Gracie when she laughed. A wide, open smile, shiny light brown hair
and...blue eyes! So she had his eyes. Cool!

He held out his hand. “You must be Amelia. I’m Jack. And this,”
he said, pulling Grace to his side—since she seemed to have lost all ability to
speak, “is Grace.”

“Hi,” the girl said shyly as she shook their hands. To cover
her shyness, she dropped to the ground and petted Millie. Jack the Jack Russell,
in a fit of jealousy, threw himself into her lap, wedging himself between Amelia
and the canine intruder. Amelia giggled, serving to relieve Grace’s nervousness
about meeting her daughter after all these years.

Amelia got to her feet and said, “Come on in. Mom’s been dying
to see you.”

At that moment an older woman, her hair graying slightly at the
temples, came down from the doorstep and walked toward them, wiping her hands on
her apron.

Amy!
Grace thought. The uterine
cancer survivor who wasn’t able to bear children. She’d promised Grace she’d
take good care of her child, love her, teach her right from wrong.

Amy enfolded Grace in a warm hug, holding her tight. The other
woman might have twenty years on Grace but she was strong. Grace hugged her
back, saying, “It’s so good to see you, Amy.”

Amy eventually released her and stood back, studying Grace.
“You haven’t changed a bit, Grace. Still as beautiful as ever. And our daughter
takes after you!”

She turned to scrutinize Jack and said, “Except she has her
father’s eyes. I’m delighted to meet you.” And before Jack could shake her hand,
she pulled him into a hug, as well.

Grace was pleased to see that he returned the embrace with
equal gusto. For one awful moment during the drive here, she’d wondered if she’d
done the right thing, asking Jack along. What if he’d demanded custody of his
daughter, tried to tear her away from these good people and the only home she
knew?

Legally, Jack could claim her, since he’d never signed the
papers relinquishing Amelia. But he’d guessed Grace’s thoughts and assured her
that if he was happy with the people who’d adopted Amelia, he wouldn’t make a
fuss. Grace crossed her fingers and prayed that the Johansens would live up to
his expectations.

“What’s all this?” Grace heard someone say, and pivoted toward
the cop car that had pulled into the driveway behind them. Gil Johansen was
climbing out, dressed in his uniform, looking much the same as he had the day
Grace first met him and decided she’d like a small-town cop to be her daughter’s
father. He’d gained a few pounds over the years but still had that gorgeous
smile, those kind, dark eyes.

“Gil!” she said, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek that
turned into a bear hug from him.

Introductions were made all around again and Gil said, “So what
do you think of our little girl?” as he drew Amelia to his side.

The girl rested her arm around her father’s waist, looking
happy and at home there.

“She’s beautiful!” Grace breathed, taking another long look at
her daughter.

“She’s the image of her mom at that age,” Jack said.

“You’ve known Grace that long?” Amelia asked, and Grace
wondered if she detected hurt in her daughter’s voice.

“Almost,” Jack said, glancing at Grace. “I met your mom...I
mean
Grace,
when we were both sixteen.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “I don’t mind you saying Grace is my
mom, because she is and so is my mom!” She laughed and it broke the tension. She
held out her free hand and Jack took it, walking into the house with her two
fathers. Her two mothers watched them with tears in their eyes.

“You’ve done a wonderful job of raising her, Amy,” Grace said.
“She’s a remarkable young lady.”

Amy laughed and put her arm around Grace as they, too, walked
toward the house. “She’s not always an angel,” Amy warned. “Especially since she
hit puberty. But thank you. We’re both very proud of our little girl and love
her to pieces. Now come on inside. I’ve baked lemon drizzle cake. It’s Gil’s and
Amelia’s favorite and they’re hoping it’ll be yours, too.”

* * *

T
HE
DAY
COULDN
’
T
have been better.
Before lunch they all took a walk along the nearby beach, the dogs chasing each
other and any object thrown remotely near them.

They then enjoyed lunch on the large veranda overlooking the
Johansens’ backyard, which was filled with flowers and well-established
trees.

That evening, Jack treated them all at a local seafood
restaurant on the waterfront. It was the perfect ending to a perfect day, with
their perfectly happy daughter and her parents.

Grace hadn’t pointed out that she and Jack weren’t in a
relationship when Amy showed her to the guest room, so that night she and Jack
shared the king-size bed, usually reserved for Amelia’s grandparents.

Lulled by the sound of the distant surf, for the first time in
too long Grace slept like a baby, right where she wanted to be—wrapped in Jack’s
strong arms.