Within Reach (22 page)

Yeah, he was a real catch. Positively irresistible.

He had a sour taste in his mouth by the time he arrived at work. He’d been so busy contemplating his own navel and wallowing in his own misery for the past twelve months that he’d turned being self-focused into an art form.

He made a promise to himself as he collected his briefcase and suit jacket from the rear seat. No matter what happened, he would honor Angie’s decision. He would do everything he could to ensure that their relationship went smoothly back to the way it was before. It was the least he owed her. The absolute least.

* * *

A
NGIE
WAITED
AT
THE
school gate for Eva at three that afternoon, one hand nervously jiggling her keys. She’d had a big day, talking to no less than six real estate agents and even dashing into the city to look at a couple of potential studios. Neither were suitable, but she was confident something would come up.

It had to, because she couldn’t go on living in Michael’s pocket.

She spotted Eva’s blond head amongst the mob of children heading for the gate and lifted her hand to catch her attention. Eva smiled her usual sunny, open smile and quickened her pace.

The thought of the conversation that lay ahead of her made Angie feel sticky with nervous sweat, but it had to happen. After all, she was the grown-up in this situation, and she was also the closest thing Eva had to a female role model. She needed to get this right.

“Hey, Auntie Angie,” Eva said. She slid her arm around Angie’s waist and gave her a hug, business as usual.

Maybe this wasn’t going to be as awkward as she imagined.

“Hey, sweetie. How was school?” she asked as they walked back to her car.

“Okay. Same old, same old.”

Angie smiled, wondering where she’d picked up the new saying. “School can be like that sometimes.”

They had reached her SUV and she opened the door for Eva before walking around to the driver’s side. She slid into the seat and put the keys in the engine, but she didn’t start the car. She’d planned to wait until they were home before they talked, but suddenly she just wanted it done.

Bracing herself, she turned to face her goddaughter.

“Eva, I wanted to talk about this morning. If that’s okay with you.”

Eva shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

“Okay. First I wanted to check that you didn’t have any questions. Anything you wanted to ask me or anything…?”

Eva’s brow wrinkled as she thought for a minute. Then she shook her head, ponytail swinging. “Nope. Don’t think so.”

“Okay.” Angie paused, not sure where to go next. Eva seemed completely relaxed about what she’d seen. Which was good. She hoped.

“Actually, I do have a question. Do you like my daddy?”

“Of course I do.”

“Do you like like him or
really
like him?”

Dear God. How to answer that?

“I think he’s really, really nice. And I like him a lot.”

“That’s good. Because I told him this morning that I wouldn’t mind if you were my new mummy. Not that I would call you
Mummy,
because you’re my auntie. Sort of. And Mummy was Mummy. But you know what I mean.”

Angie blinked, utterly blindsided. For long seconds she didn’t know what to say. Then she realized Eva was watching her, waiting for her response.

“I do know what you mean. And I love being your auntie. It’s one of my most favorite things in all the world.”

She couldn’t say any more. She was too busy trying not to cry.

“Don’t be sad, Auntie Angie,” Eva said, her face creased with concern.

“I’m not, sweetie. I’m really touched that you feel that way. I love you very much.”

She leaned across and kissed Eva, pressing her cheek against the little girl’s.

“So if Daddy asks, you wouldn’t mind?”

Angie released her and sat back. As touched as she was by Eva’s declaration and much as it made her heart ache, there was no way she could let this childish fantasy stand.

“Your daddy and I are just friends, sweetie. I don’t think you should get too excited about him asking me anything like that.”

“But he really likes you,” Eva said stubbornly.

“And I really like him. But sometimes that’s not enough.”

Eva thought about it for a few seconds. “Sometimes I don’t get adults.”

Angie couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. Me, either.”

She drove home, and when Eva ran off to change, she slipped out to the studio and pretended to be busy tidying her workbench to hide the fact that she was crying.

She’d never allowed herself to dream of being Eva’s mother, just as she’d never allowed herself to dream of having a real relationship with Michael. Hearing those words from her goddaughter’s mouth had been bittersweet and beautiful and incredibly painful.

After a few minutes, she mopped up her face and went inside to spend time with Eva. If things went to plan, these after-school hours would be a thing of the past, which only made what time she had all the more precious.

* * *

M
ICHAEL
’
S
NEW
RESOLVE
to respect Angie’s boundaries was tested after only two days. He came home from work on Wednesday to find dinner cooked and Angie helping Eva with her reading. Charlie wandered over to charm a hug out of Angie and Michael watched his son enjoy her embrace with envy in his heart.

Which went to show exactly how selfish he was.

“Let me guess—chicken casserole?” he said, trying to keep things light.

“Got it in one,” Angie said with the same small, slightly distant smile she’d been offering him for the past two days.

“Have I got time to change?”

“Sure.”

“Great.”

He yanked his tie off as he walked to his bedroom. He threw his jacket on the bed, then followed it with his shirt and trousers.

How long would it be like this between them? Polite and cautious and wary? He didn’t like it. He didn’t like being jealous of his children because they were the recipients of her easy affection, and he really didn’t like lying awake at night, his body on fire for hers.

He kicked off his shoes, pulled on his jeans and a T-shirt and returned to the kitchen. Eva was busy setting the table while Angie pulled the casserole from the oven.

“I had some good news today,” she said, glancing up briefly as she eased the dish onto the counter. “A real estate agent called with a lead on a studio space in Collingwood. I went and checked it out this afternoon and I think it’s going to work.”

Everything in him went still. “I didn’t realize you were looking for another studio space.”

“I never really stopped. At least, I still had some feelers out. And this place came up and it seems perfect….” She was busy with the casserole, very careful to avoid eye contact now.

“I thought you were pretty settled here.” He could hear the sulkiness in his own voice. The disappointment. He didn’t want her to move on. He liked coming home to her, even if it was an artificial construct.

“I know it’s going to mess up things with Eva, but I was talking to my friend Tess and she recommended a retired teacher who her sister used for a while. Apparently she’s really terrific, great with kids…. I don’t know what her availability is but I got her number for you.”

She looked at him then, and there was something in her eyes that made his gut clench. Something dark and painful and hurt. Then she blinked and it was gone and she was just Angie, endlessly kind and generous and helpful.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll give her a call.”

“I won’t do anything until you’ve got something sorted. I won’t leave you in the lurch.”

Won’t you?

He almost said it out loud. Only the knowledge of how self-serving it would be stopped him. She’d put her whole life on hold for him and the kids. He had no right to expect more from her.

He shot a look toward Eva, checking to see if she was listening. She’d drifted over to watch the television, apparently oblivious to the conversation that was taking place in the kitchen.

“If this is because of us, I’m not going to put any pressure on you, Angie. I mean, if that’s why you’re leaving.”

“I know that. I need to be closer to my suppliers, that’s all. It’s been great being here, but there are things I need that I can’t get out here….”

It was the first he’d heard of it, but he wasn’t going to argue with her. He’d just told her he wasn’t going to pressure her, and he figured haranguing her about her decision came under that heading.

Eva provided the soundtrack to their dinner, chattering away about her day at school. Angie was silent, pushing her food around her plate. Michael chewed and swallowed, not tasting anything. He felt angry and baffled and shut out and he knew there was nothing he could do about it. They had agreed that their friendship was the important thing. Angie was doing what needed to be done to preserve it. He should be thanking her, not resenting her.

“I’ll do that,” he said when she started clearing the table.

She glanced at him and he slid the plates from her hands. “Thanks.”

“I’m the one who should be thanking you,” he said gruffly.

She shrugged off his thanks. “It’s no big deal. I have to eat, too.”

Except she’d hardly eaten a thing.

He dumped the dishes in the sink, watching as Angie collected her things.

“I’ve got some errands to run, so I probably won’t see you tomorrow morning, okay?” she said.

“Sure.”

She kissed the kids goodbye and waved to him from the doorway. Then she was gone.

Michael looked down at the mess in the sink. He wanted to go after her so badly it hurt.

Because he wasn’t confident he could control the impulse, he went out onto the deck instead, breathing in the cool twilight air. Cicadas sang, their song sharp on his ears, and he stared at the studio and tried to get used to the idea that soon it would be empty again.

God, he didn’t want her to go.

“Daddy, I think I did something bad today.”

He turned to find Eva in the doorway, an uncertain look on her face.

“Did something happen at school?”

“No. It was after school, with Auntie Angie. I told her how I told you it was okay with me if she was my mummy but still my auntie. She said she was really touched but that you really liking her wasn’t enough. And then when we got home, I went to change and Auntie Angie came out to her studio and cried.” Eva paused for breath. “She doesn’t know I saw her, and I didn’t say anything because I could tell she didn’t want anyone to know. But now I’m worried I made her cry.”

Michael’s chest was suddenly very tight. Angie had been crying. Over him. Over them.

He reached out and squeezed Eva’s shoulder. “I’m sure you didn’t make Angie upset. She’s got a lot of stuff going on right now.”

Eva looked doubtful. “I hope so.”

“Trust me, you didn’t make Auntie Angie cry.”

No, he’d done that, because he’d been a blind idiot. He gave his daughter’s shoulder a final squeeze, his mind racing furiously.

“Listen. I’m going to pop next door to see if Mrs. Linton would mind keeping an eye on you two for an hour or so, okay? Then I’m going to go see Auntie Angie and make sure she’s all right. How does that sound?”

Eva brightened. “That sounds good.”

They went back inside and he made sure Charlie was safely ensconced in front of the TV before leaving the house and starting down the driveway. He had no idea if his neighbors were home or if Mrs. Linton was available, but he hoped like hell she was because he needed to talk to Angie. Tonight. He needed to find out if what he was thinking was right. Because if it was—

He stopped in his tracks as he registered something that shouldn’t be there: the dark green shape of Angie’s SUV, still parked out the front of his house. He frowned, momentarily confused. Then he realized that Angie was sitting in the driver’s seat, her head bowed.

The tight feeling in his chest got even tighter. He strode toward her car, a sort of hopeless fury building inside him. She’d huddled in her studio crying this afternoon, and now she’d left his house and was sitting in her car, looking lost and broken…

He couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the fact that she’d hidden her pain from him. Most of all he couldn’t stand the fact that he was the one who had hurt her.

He reached the car and curled his fingers around the door handle and pulled it open. Angie started, a four-letter word hissing between her teeth as she pressed a hand to her sternum.

“Michael…” Her face was shiny with tears, her eyes still swimming.

“What’s going on, Angie?”

* * *

A
NGIE
STARED
AT
M
ICHAEL
’
S
face. He looked pale in the moonlight, his features stony.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said feebly.

He leaned forward, one arm braced on the roof of the car, the other on the open car door.

“Then why are you sitting out here crying?”

She didn’t know what to say, so she simply stared at him.

“Eva told me what she said to you. She told me you were crying this afternoon, too.”

Angie frowned. She’d been so careful to dry her tears. She’d even checked her reflection in the hand mirror in her purse.

“Tell me the truth, Angie. Is this because of me? Because of us?”

She couldn’t hold his eyes and lie to him, so she looked away.

“No.”

“Liar.”

She pressed her lips together.

“Is that why you’re moving your studio, too?”

He sounded so angry. Accusing, almost. As though she’d withheld some vital secret from him that he’d been entitled to know. She didn’t like the fact that he was looming over her, either, so she got out of the car, forcing him to take a step back.

“What do you want to hear, Michael? What do you want me to say?”

“I want the truth. Not some sanitized half truth.”

She was starting to get angry now, too. She didn’t understand why he was out here acting all righteous and holier-than-thou. She’d tried to do him a favor, let him off the hook. He had no right to stand there looking
aggrieved,
for Pete’s sake.