A Journey by Chance (29 page)

Gina handed Brady a dish towel. “Are you sure you don't mind?”

It was like asking if he minded living in his woods or if he minded writing for a living. His passion for being with her ran as deep. “Do I get to stand beside you while we do the dishes?”

Ignoring his question, she tilted her head downward and slid dinner plates into the sudsy water.

Aunt Lottie shuffled into the kitchen. “You two be sure to leave the light on, just in case Maggie gets home late tonight.”

“Aunt Lottie, you said you were going to bed!”

“I am, honey. I just thought the sight of you two snuggling in my kitchen would give me pleasant dreams.”

“We're not—!”

Brady threw his arm around her shoulders. “But we could!”

Aunt Lottie beamed. “Good night.” She shut the back staircase door behind her. They could hear her giggling all the way up.

Gina elbowed him away. “But we're not because you brought the Scrabble board, right?”

“Right. Speaking of romance, I wonder how the adventure is going with your folks?”

“I can't wait to hear all about it. I cannot believe all the surprises Dad had planned.”

“Quite a display of extravagant love. Kind of like Jesus.”

Again she focused on the sink full of dishwater.

Brady let it go. From recent conversations he knew she struggled to understand such a love. She was running from it, guilt-ridden from living in worldly ways, not grasping the fact that the kindest, most moral, churchgoing person did not deserve God's love either. He prayed to know how to show her that kind of love.

She changed the subject. “How did things go at your committee meeting?”

He blew out a breath, a sound of disgust. “Biggest bunch of nonprogressive dolts I've ever had the misfortune to work with. There's so much history in and around my property. I cannot believe they'd turn it over so easily to a developer. They may as well dump toxic waste across my road.”

“Every one of them is like that?”

“Well, no. Half of them would leave things as is, use the land for green space. Or let me buy it. Without my vote, though, it's a tie. And they all agree I can't vote the tie-breaker.”

“It is a conflict of interest, don't you agree?”

“It's not
my
property, only adjacent to it. There are plenty of other acreages for housing.”

“Brady.” She stared at him, her green eyes serious, and flicked a wet hand at his shoulder.

“What?”

“That chip's back. You're sounding angry and offensive and extremely one-sided here.”

“Gina, this is my livelihood we're talking about! There's no way I can work in the middle of a neighborhood.”

“Have you ever tried?”

“Haven't had to.”

“Well? How can you be so sure then? Besides, there'd still be a ravine between you and them.”

“Which is not on my property, which someone will build a deck out into.”

“So close your windows.”

“I like my windows open. Every season.”

“Even when it's -50 wind chill?” She gave him a sly smile. “And snowing?”

“It's the principle of the thing. Valley Oaks doesn't need housing there and it should hang on to its history!”

“Does that mean you're going to offer to fix up the old Crowley place, make it a local attraction? Maybe get it registered with the Historical Society? Open it to the public?”

“No.”

She drained the sink. “In other words you just want your privacy.”

That certainly sounds selfish,
he thought.

“Brady, that sounds unbelievably selfish.”

Yes, unbelievably
. “Gina.” He sighed. He really had no explanation.

“Maybe it is the best thing for the town if it was developed. I mean, if the entire school board thinks it would draw people here and enlarge the tax base for better education—”

“Not everyone thinks that way.”

She took the towel from him and folded it. “Why don't you go run around the block? You sound too angry to play Scrabble.”

“I'm fine.”

She gripped his arms and turned him around, then pushed him through the back door. “You're not fine. Go cool down.”

He lurched down the porch steps and looked back at her.

Gina stretched out and touched his face. “You'll never be able to kiss me good night with your jaw clenched like that,” she whispered.

It was the best incentive he'd ever had to run around the block. “You'll wait?”

“I'll wait.” She sashayed back into the house. “And you thought
I
was a snob.”

Brady strode toward the front sidewalk, inhaled the dewy, fragrant night, and glanced up at the stars. His anger dissolved even before he took his first jogging step. He only hoped his jaw would unclench.

Somewhere between the shearing of her natural curls and slipping into the elegant black dress, Maggie felt an inkling of nervous anticipation. It had been a lovely day and a very special person had ordered it. She recognized this hope to have dinner with him as an answer to prayer.

Her hopes fell when Julius opened the limousine door and she saw the empty interior. At the John Hancock Center she entered the elevator with two other couples. She didn't mind dining alone, actually. She valued her independence, but…this was an evening to be shared. She wanted to thank Reece for his efforts, for his gifts, and most of all, to ask him to his face for forgiveness.

The maître d' surprised her by greeting her by name. “Good evening, Mrs. Philips. Follow me, please.”

She wondered how she could again be caught by surprise. It had been happening all day.

The view was breathtaking. An unhindered panorama of skyscrapers shimmered in the evening sunlight. As they neared window tables, she saw him.

Reece stood. The room faded from her vision, but she sensed that heads turned. The silver in his hair glistened in a sunbeam. He was as trim and handsome as ever in his black tuxedo. His wide mouth broke into an easy smile. He wore his glasses, a sign that his eyes were tired. With a start she realized she didn't even know where he had been this past week.

He stepped toward her and took her hands in his, leaned forward, and kissed her cheek. “Thank you for coming,” he whispered in her ear.

“Reece, I'm so sorry,” she murmured.

His gray eyes bore into hers. “Margaret.” He paused. “Maggie, it's all my fault.”

She couldn't find her voice as he held the chair out for her.

“Do you want to prop your cast up on this other chair?”

“N-no. It's fine for now.”

He sat across from her, scrutinizing her face as if he'd never seen her before. “You're more beautiful than ever. I like your hair that way.” He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “I've already ordered for you. The special is a salmon I think you'll like. But if you want to look at the menu…” His voice faded. “This feels like our first date.”

“All right, I give up. Who are you?”

He smiled. “And what do you mean by that?”

“Reece doesn't kiss me in public. He doesn't call me Maggie. He doesn't
look
at me like that. He doesn't order dinner for me because he hasn't a clue what I like. And he never, ever talks about
feelings
.”

His smile broadened into a grin, and his eyes crinkled behind his glasses. “You noticed.”

“Rushed off at 8:00
A.M
. by a stranger wearing a chauffeur's uniform to an unknown destination? Oh, I noticed all right.”

“And? How do you
feel?”

She picked up her goblet and sipped the mineral water, delaying the honest answer that might hurt him. “I-I'm fighting it. Feeling means I'm vulnerable again. Does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense, Maggie. And it's fair. I don't expect you to trust me just because of a few gifts. We're obviously at square one.”

A waiter interrupted momentarily, placing fragrant potato-leek soup before them.

“Reece, we're not exactly at square one. We never ate at a place like this during those square one days.”

“I tried to get us a table at that little French hole-in-the-wall. Evidently they're closed.”

She laughed. “We thought we were so sophisticated. Gina would call it a dive.”

“I thought perhaps we wouldn't talk about Gina tonight. Let's talk about us.”

Maggie swallowed a mouthful of hot soup, coughed, and quickly gulped water. “Reece, will you please warn me when you're going to say something like that?”

“I'm going to say something like that.”

“Again?!”

“I just realized that I'm only being myself in all this. I'm simply treating you the same way I've been treating clients and business associates for years.”

The delectable soup turned to sawdust in her mouth.

“Not to today's extreme. I mean, I never knew anyone else's brand of lipstick or dress size, but I have sent limousines and arranged hotel rooms and surprise schedules. It's just a part of business.”

She laced her fingers together in her lap.

“But I've never personally shopped or called a florist or gone to the hotel room and hung up clothing and set out cosmetics.”

“You did all that?”

“Yes, I did. Of course I had to call Gina a dozen times to find out where to buy certain items. I've memorized Brady
Olafsson's phone number, of all things.” He rolled his eyes in the same way their daughter did.

“We're not talking about her.”

“Anyway, it is a despicable way to live. Margaret, I mean Maggie, will you forgive me for ignoring you all these years?”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “I'm never going to get through this soup.”

He smiled softly.

“Forgiving takes time, Reece. I'm working on it.”

“Fair enough.”

“Will you forgive me?”

“As I said, it was my fault. I can't blame you for finding a friend.”

“But can you forgive me?”

“I have, Maggie, because I love you.”

“And I do love you.”

“Thank you. Ah, here's the salad. Honey-mustard dressing on the side, right?” When the waiter left, Reece said, “Speaking of dives, remember our first apartment?”

“That wasn't a dive! It was
cozy
.”

They laughed and talked through the remainder of dinner, reminiscing about the happy early days of their marriage when they lived downtown. The city was full of their memories.

“I ordered raspberry cheesecake. Did you save room for some?”

A favorite of hers…of course. “Oh, Reece, this has been an unparalleled day of self-indulgence. I see no reason to stop now. Thank you. I haven't had this much fun in a long time.”

“It's not over. There's still the opera.”

“You don't like opera.”

“But you do. I promise to listen this time when you tell me why.”

“Well, for one thing, it's extremely energetic, like you.” The waiter slipped a dessert plate before her. A small gold foil-wrapped box with matching bow sat on it. “Reece, this isn't cheesecake.” She locked her eyes with his.

“Will you open it? Please.”

Something in her hesitated, but she did as he asked. Beneath the paper was a box. Inside that was a black velvet ring box. She lifted the lid. The loveliest of diamonds sparkled up at her. Not too small, not too ostentatious, a solitaire on a band of gold. Simple. Elegant.

“Maggie, will you marry me? Again?”

She saw the crease between his brows, the intense concentration in his eyes. “Reece, it's gorgeous.” She bit her lip.

“It's all right. You don't have to answer tonight.”

“I didn't the first time either, did I?” She looked down at the original tiny engagement ring still on her left hand.

“Will you just wear it, on your right hand, until you decide?”

“This is difficult, Reece. I have to be honest.”

“I want you to be honest, no matter what.”

“I don't know yet. Will you…will you keep it, until you know for certain what my answer will be?”

He blinked a couple of times, thoughtful, probably trying to follow her line of reasoning. A smile slowly spread across his face. “You think I'll get to that point?”

“After today? Oh, most definitely.”

Reece slipped his arm along the back of the limo's soft leather seat, behind Margaret.
Maggie
.

During the opera their shoulders had brushed. She had touched his forearm twice, whispered in his ear. But he longed to take her in his arms and kiss her like there was no tomorrow.

She looked up at him as Julius maneuvered the car through the after-theater Chicago traffic. “Reece, I think I'd like to go back to Valley Oaks tonight.” Her tone was cautious, as it had been much of the evening.

“My darling,” words of endearment rolled easily now, “you don't have to. I have my own room, on another floor. And a cold shower will do me good.”

“And Julius?”

“I don't know why he'd need a cold shower.”

She poked him in the ribs.

“He has a room, too. But if you're determined to leave, he'll take you. No problem.”

“All right,” she breathed. “I am tired. If I get back by nine in the morning, that'll be early enough. Thank you, Reece.”

“My pleasure.” He fingered the ring box in his jacket pocket. She wasn't making this easy. He would win her back though, even if it took the rest of his life.