Moonlight in the Morning (31 page)

She missed Tristan and Nell and her father and Mrs. Wingate and Lucy—and that little town that had only one stop light. But they didn’t seem to have given her as much as a second thought.

It was on the day starting the sixth week that Jecca had left Edilean when her doorbell rang. “Maintenance!” yelled a male voice from the other side of the heavy door.

Jecca was eating a bagel and just about to leave for work. She didn’t know what maintenance was needed in the apartment, but then the building codes were always changing. She opened the door with one hand and grabbed her briefcase with the other.

“I’ve got to run,” she said to the man who was standing by the door. “You can—” She broke off because it was her father, and he was the way she knew him best, wearing a tool belt, a hammer at his hip.

Had anyone askedd aecause i Jecca, she would have said she’d recovered very well from the breakup with Tristan. But the sight of her father showed her that she hadn’t recovered at all. In an instant she went from being a grown woman to a little girl.

She dropped her half-eaten bagel and her briefcase to the floor, put her arms around her dad’s neck, and finally, at last, she started crying.

Her dad, shorter than she was, but broader by half, kicked the door shut, picked his daughter up, and carried her to the couch.

“He didn’t call me at all,” she was saying through her copious tears. “He made no effort to get me to stay.”

Her dad handed her a wad of tissues from a box on the coffee table.

Jecca kept talking. “I know it makes no sense that I wanted him to come after me—not that I did. If he’d shown up at the door I would have slammed it in his face. It was horrible of him to buy a studio for me. He
knew
I wasn’t staying. I told him that all along. But maybe I could have painted there. In Edilean, I mean. What I did there was the best work I’ve ever done. Maybe I could have kept doing it. Not next to the hardware store of course because you’d get me to run the cash register, but somewhere. You know what I’m doing now? Managing the whole damned gallery, that’s what. I spend days looking at other artists’ work and I haven’t picked up a brush in weeks. I could have done more actual artwork in Edilean, and maybe Tristan and I could have figured that out, but he made me so angry I couldn’t think. And you . . .” She couldn’t think of the betrayal by her father. “Tristan hates me, doesn’t he?”

When her father was silent, she looked at him.

“I think he’s mad about you,” he said. “But your Dr. Tristan left town not long after you did and nobody knows where he went. Livie thought he went up to the cabin, but I went up there and it was only that professor guy.”

It took Jecca a moment to understand what he was saying. “Livie? You’ve seen Mrs. Wingate?”

Joe nodded.

Jecca sat back, blew her nose, wiped her eyes, and looked at her father. “Out with it,” she said. “What have you been up to and don’t skip a word.”

Joe looked around the apartment, at the big glass windows. “Nice place. You got any more bagels? It’s a long drive up here.”

“‘Up’ here? You came up from Edilean?” Jecca went to the kitchen to make breakfast for her father. He’d want bacon and eggs with his bagel, except that she didn’t have any bacon.

He moved to take a seat on a stool on the other side of the counter. “You notice that today is exactly six weeks since you left in one of your huffs?”

“I didn’t—” Jecca waved her hand. “I was very angry at both of you.”

“Well, that boyfriend of yours was more than mad at
me.
How was I to know you wouldn’t like for me to open a store in that little town?”

Turning, she narrowed her eyes at him.

Joe gave a one-sided grin and a little guffaw. “Okay, so maybe I did know. That boyfriend of yours sure can keep a secret.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. I haven’t seen or heard from him in weeks.”

“If you’re gonna start crying again I better get a roll of toilet paper.”

“I’m not going to cry anymore,” Jecca said. “I want you to tell me what’s been going on. When you say Tristan can keep a secret, what do you mean?”

“Didn’t tell you about buying the hardware store, did he? Did you see that building? When I get through with it, it’ll put Home Depot
and
Lowe’s out of business.”

Jecca cracked three eggs into a skillet and listened to her father with everything she knew about him. He had a lot to tell her, but there was something else there. He was . . . What? Afraid? Was that the underlying emotion in his words? What in the world could possibly scare Joe Layton? When his wife died and left him with two young kids to raise, one of them a girl who was born with her own opinions, he hadn’t been afraid.

“Dad,” Jecca said slowly, “why don’t you tell me what it is that you’re hiding?”

He waited while she slid the eggs out of the skillet. Runny yolks, just the way he liked them.

“I want to marry Lucy.”

Jecca had expected anything in the world except that. “Lucy? Lucy Cooper? Lives at Mrs. Wingate’s house?”

“That’s the one.”

She sat on the stool next to him. Watching him eat was very familiar and she marveled at how glad she was to see him. “But . . .” She couldn’t think what to say. That her father wanted to remarry was a lot to take in. Lucy—a woman Jecca already loved—was going to be her stepmother.

“Uh . . .” she said. “Tell me about Lucy. I never could get anything out of her about her personal life, and Tristan doesn’t—I mean, he didn’t know.” She had to stop that or she’d be bawling again.

“I don’t know,” Joe said. “Lucy won’t tell me anything either.”

“But you want to marry her?”

“Yeah.
I
moved my job to where the woman I love is.” He locked his eyes onto hers.

She knew he was criticizing, judging, chastising her, and especially telling her what he thought of her running away from Tristan. “Dad,” Jecca said, “you decided to open a new hardware store
before
you even met Lucy.”

“Think so?” He pulled his cell phone out of the pouch at his side. His background photo was the one of Lucy that Jecca had sent him.
SUNDAY AT THE WINGATE
HOUSE
, she’d written.

Jecca had to admit that Lucy looked very good, and she thought of all that she’d told her father about her. Lucy could cook as well as sew. And then there was the pole dancing. Can’ng.mit that forget that. Yes, Jecca could see that her dad could fall in love with Lucy before he met her.

“Where are you living now?” She hated hearing herself ask that. Her father had always lived in the same house, worked at the same store. It was disconcerting to think of him being anywhere else.

“In Livie’s house.”

“In my apartment?”

“No, I’m in the one that was empty. Mostly, I stay with Lucy.” His eyes sparkled.

“Don’t even think of elaborating on that,” Jecca said. She took a deep breath. “If you’re in Edilean, why haven’t you seen Tristan?”

“I told you that he left.”

“What do you mean that he left?”

“A few days after you ran off, he left town. That other doctor boy, Roger—”

“Reede.”

“Yeah, him. Reede has been doing the doctoring for the town. Kim said he’s the one that broke your heart the first time you went to Edilean. You sure moped around when you got home.”

“Reede didn’t break my heart, and anyway, I was just a kid.”

“Not according to you back then. To hear you talk you were forty-five and a woman of the world.”

Jecca opened her mouth to defend herself, but then she laughed. “I’ve missed you.”

“Yeah?” He was cleaning his plate with his second bagel. “I’ve had a few thoughts about you too. You ready to come home?”

Home, she thought. Did that now mean Edilean? Jecca couldn’t help but feel that if Tristan had
really
wanted her he would have, well . . . at least called her. But then, she was the one who ran away. She was the one who freaked out and fled.

As always, her dad knew what she was thinking. “That boy gives up pretty easy, doesn’t he?”

Jecca had to work to keep from bursting into tears again. “I deserved it,” she managed to say. “I’m the one who dumped him.”

“Any man who let
you
get away without the fight of his life isn’t worth you.”

“Oh, Dad,” she said, then she did begin crying again.

Joe led her to the couch and handed her the last of the tissues from the box.

“Before you flood the place, I have something to show you.” He reached into the tool belt he was still wearing—later she’d have to ask him how he got past security in the building—and pulled out a folded letter. It was dirty, worn, and wrinkled.

“Had it awhile?” she asked, an eyebrow raised.

“I would have come sooner, but that boy made me swear not to see you for six weeks. He said you needed time away from all of us so you could calm down.”

“Tristan said that?”

“Yeah. I talked to him a bit when I got to Edilean and he read me the riot act. I’ve never been told off so well in my life. I learned some new curse words from him.”

“Tristan? Cursing? He’s so gentle and sweet.”

“Not when he thought I’d played a trick on him that made you run away. I think some of those words were medical, but I understood him when he told me where I could put certain parts of the building.”

“You
did
play a trick that made me run away,” Jecca said, her voice rising. “Because of you I—”

“Why don’t you read that letter first and bawl me out later? The man that wrote it had a hard time finding you. I talked to him on the phone, and he said some woman named Savannah said you were a New York designer. Chambers tried New York, then New Jersey, and two addresses in Edilean before he found you—but by then you’d already skipped town.”

Jecca gave him a look that let him know she wasn’t through with him yet, then she opened the letter. A Mr. Henry Chambers, owner of six clothing brands, said that he had been thinking about starting a line of children’s clothes. His daughter lived in Richmond, where she had a tiny boutique of upscale women’s clothes—“all manufactured by me” Mr. Chambers wrote.

She and my granddaughter were invited to the McDowell birthday party and she saw your fashion show.

I’d like to talk to you about designing for me. You can call your line Nell’s Closet or the Achievers’ Club, whatever you want. My daughter says the name doesn’t matter because the clothes will sell themselves. That’s high praise from her.

I live in upstate New York, so if you’re interested, give me a call and we can meet.

Jecca read the letter twice before looking up at her father. “Is this for real?”

“Lucy looked him up on the Internet, and he’s a big deal in the clothing industry. Nice young man about my age. Lucy spent hours telling me all about what you did to pull that show off, so I called him.”

Jecca’s eyes started to grow misty at the memory of the happy days before the fashion show.

“You can work anywhere,” Joe said, his eyes boring into her.

She was reading the letter again. “You mean that I can set up shop in the big room off the hardware store.”

“That’s my first choice, but if you . . .” Joe said and there was no laughter or teasing in his voice, just pure pleading. At last Jecca was hearing the groveling she’d wanted from him, his apology. “When I got your doctor to buy that building, I didn’t mean to—”

She couldn’t bear to hear the rest of that sentence. She thought she’d wanted an apology, but she didn’t. All Joe Layton had wanted was to be near his daughter. To achieve that, he’d given up the store that had been his life. She clutched his hand, scarred from years of work,yeat=" hardened by steel and lumber. “It’s okay, Dad. Really. I understand why you did it. But . . .”

“But that stupid boy ran away,” Joe said, and there was disgust in his voice. “You’d think that a man who could curse like that would have some courage, that he’d—”

Jecca squeezed his hand. “It’s okay. I guess I didn’t mean as much to him as I thought I did. And it was all my fault.”

“Humph!” Joe said. “Since when do women ever make up their own minds? You think I let Lucy call the shots? Hell no! I
told
her what it was going to be like and the only thing she was allowed to say was yes.”

Jecca looked at her father’s eyes and saw pure terror. “You haven’t asked her yet, have you?”

“Lord no!” he said and ran his hand over his face. “I’m scared to death.”

“Dad, what do you say that I take today off from the gallery and you and I drive up to visit Mr. Chambers? And I think we should go see Joey and the kids too. He said he’s made some changes to the store.”

“Don’t get me started on
that
!” Joe said as Jecca got up to get her cell phone. As he started complaining about what had been done to his store, the fear began to leave his eyes.

Twenty

“This just came by bike messenger for you,” Della said as she handed Jecca a heavy package.

Jecca couldn’t help groaning. It looked like yet another artist had sent her a special delivery package of his work.

It had been four days since she and her dad had gone to see Mr. Chambers, but she hadn’t told Della about it. Jecca knew it was an offer she couldn’t pass up. It wasn’t what she’d had in mind for her life, but it was creative, she knew she was good at it, and she would be able to make a living at it.

“There’s a lot you’ll need to learn,” Mr. Chambers had said. “I don’t believe in designers living in high-rises and not knowing who sews the clothes. You’ll need to learn everything, from pattern cutting to buttons and trims,” he said. “All of it, from the ground up.”

“Then she’ll need to be in New York?” her dad had asked, and his expression said it all. He wanted Jecca to return to Edilean with him. He’d changed his life to be near her, and now she was going to be staying in New York.

Mr. Chambers looked from one to the other. “Give me three years, then you can live wherever you want. If these things sell, that is. It’s all based on that.”

Jecca didn’t say much, just nodded. The more work, the better. She didn’t want time to think about Tristan and what she’d left behind. Her dad had asked Lucy about him on his nightly calls, but no one in Edilean—not even Mrs. Wingate—knew where he was or what he was doing.

“Livie says Jecca broke Tristan’s heart and he’ll never recover,” Lucy told Joe.

“Yeah, well, Jecca’s heart ain’t exactly healthy,” Joe had replied.

Jecca had formally accepted Mr. Chambers’s offer twenty-four hours after the meeting, but she wanted to talk to Mr. Preston before telling anyone else. She wanted to keep the apartment and to tell him that even though Della was young, she could handle the gallery. Besides, Jecca had seen Della’s oils and they weren’t going to sell; she needed a job.

Jecca had an appointment to see Mr. Preston tomorrow when he returned from some overseas trip, and after that she’d start her new job. She’d already spent hours sitting in Central Park and sketching ideas for clothes. Paris meets Edilean was what she was after. Small town America flavored with high fashion.

The night after she talked to Mr. Chambers, Jecca knew the person she most wanted to talk to was Nell. She called her home number and was glad when Nell answered.

Nell wasn’t happy. “You left me,” she said, her voice a mixture of anger and tears. “I thought we were together, but you and Uncle Tris
left
me.”

It took Jecca a while to calm Nell down and reassure her that she hadn’t been left behind, at least not permanently. She told Nell about the job and how she’d be in New York for about three years. “Then Dad wants me to go live in Edilean. Have you met my father?”

“Yeah,” Nell said, but her voice was dull, spiritless. “He doesn’t look like you.”

“I take after my mother’s side of the family. Nell, I’ll come visit you as soon as I can. I promise.”

Nell said nothing.

“If your mother will let you, you can come here to New York and help me design clothes and buy fabric. How does that sound?”

“Okay,” Nell said, but still without much enthusiasm. “Do you know where Uncle Tris is?” There was a hiccup in Nell’s voice, and Jecca winced. It was one thing for Tris not to contact Jecca, but it was deeply unkind of him to leave Nell!

“No,” Jecca said softly, “I don’t.” If she didn’t change the subject, she’d start crying and that would make Nell cry, then . . . “I have to go,” Jecca said. “Think of things you’d like to wear and let me know.”

“I will,” Nell said, but the sadness was still in her voice.

When Jecca hung up, she cursed at Tristan. How could he do such a thing to Nell?

Jecca opened the package that had just been delivered, but it wasn’t some would-be artist’s work, as she’d thought. Instead, inside was one of those art kits in a shiny wooden box.

She couldn’t help but remember the last one she’d seen. Tristan had bought just such a set for Nell—and Jecca had let him know what she thought of it.

Frowning at the memory of all that had happened since then, she set the big box on her desk and opened it. It was all colored pencils, a goodencv>

It was a moment before she saw the business card stuck inside the lid.

Dr. Tristan Aldredge

Family Medicine

480 Park Avenue

New York, New York

It listed his phone numbers.

Jecca stood there for a full minute staring at the card, not understanding what she was seeing.

“What do you think?” Della asked from the doorway. “I think he matted it wrong and this is the top.”

Jecca didn’t answer, just kept staring at the card.

“You okay?” Della asked. “You look like you’re about to faint.”

Jecca held out the card to her.

Della read it but didn’t understand. “This was in that box of pencils? Some doctor wants to be an artist?” When Jecca said nothing, Della’s eyes brightened. “This is the ‘bad breakup’ guy, isn’t it?”

Jecca managed to nod.

“Looks like he opened an office here in New York,” Della said. “So?”

Jecca just stared at her.

“Go!” Della said. “Go now! This second.” She put the card in Jecca’s hand and shoved her toward the door. “Maybe if you get back with him you’ll stop weeping every time someone says the word
love.
”

“I don’t—” Jecca began but knew that she did.

Della was holding out Jecca’s bag to her. “And here, take this.” It was a red pencil.

Thirty seconds later, Jecca was out the front door and hailing a taxi.

By the time she got to Tristan’s office, her heart was pounding in her throat. What would she say to him? They’d had no contact since she’d run out on him that day in Edilean. What if—She could think of a thousand what-ifs, but he’d sent the card to her and he’d . . . He’d moved his practice to New York. That was the main thing.

There was a shiny brass plaque in the wall outside the office door. Tristan’s name was under another man’s, so it looked like he’d gone into practice with someone else.

She took a deep breath, wished she’d taken time to check her makeup, and opened the door. The first thing she saw were four truly beautiful young women sitting in the waiting room and flipping through magazines.

“Looks like I’m in the right place,” she said under her breath and went to the reception window. She wasn’t surprised to see two middle-aged women there.

The larger one looked Jecca up and down and seemed to say that she knew why she was there.

“I’d like to see Dr. Aldredge,” Jecca said.

“You have to have an appointment, and the first one available is in February.”

Jecca blinked at her. That was months away. “This is personal. He’ll want to see me.”

Behind her, she heard a sound and turned to look at the women sitting in the waiting room. All of them were looking at Jecca as though to say, Been there, tried that.

“It’s always personal,” the woman behind the window said. “Give me your name and you can see him in February.”

Jecca looked at the colored pencil in her hand. “Would you please give this to Tristan?”

“Sure,” the woman said and started to drop it into a pencil holder.

“Are you Jecca?” the other nurse asked.

“Yes.”

“Hang on, I’ll get him.”

The first woman looked Jecca up and down and obviously thought she wasn’t what she’d expected. But Jecca was pleased that they knew her name.

She stepped back from the window. There were no vacant chairs, so she stood against the wall. The other women were staring at her in curiosity.

When the door to the office opened and the young women sighed, Jecca knew Tristan was there. She stood up straight and held her breath.

He stepped forward, shut the door behind him, and looked around a moment before he saw her. He looked good, better than she remembered, and she knew that she loved him more than she thought possible.

“I didn’t quit being a doctor,” he said, “but I moved to where you are. If Joe can give up his hardware store, I can give up my town.”

She took a step toward him. “You didn’t call.”

“I know,” he said and went toward her. “I figured action was better than promises. It took me a while to move.” He held out his hand to her. “Your dad . . .”

“I know,” she said as her fingertips touched his. “He’s sorry for what he did, but he’s in awe of your cursing.”

Tris gave a half grin. “I described what he could do with his building in very precise, anatomical terms.”

She stepped closer to him. “Nell is depressed because we both left her.”

“I needed to sort out my life first,” he said, then held out his arms to her. “Jecca, I love you.”

She went to him and kissed him with all the longing she’d felt for six and a half weeks. She’d thought she was never going to see him again—and she’d seen how empty her life was without him.

“Will you marry me?” he asked, his lips on her ear.

Jecca started to say yes, but there was a collective hiss around them. They had both forgotten the other people in the room.e iv>

Turning, they looked at the women, and all of them, including the two women behind the window, were looking at Tristan expectantly.

“I guess I better do this right,” he said, “or I won’t have any patients left.” He went onto one knee in front of her.

“Jecca, will you—Oh, wait.” He fumbled in the pocket of his white coat and withdrew a little leather box with Kim’s distinctive design on it. Jecca drew in her breath—as did all the women.

Still on one knee, he opened the box—and every woman bent toward it. This time a little gasp went up.

“Is it okay?” Tris asked as he moved it around so they could all see the ring with the big three-carat diamond. There was a universal nod of approval.

“Jecca, my love,” he said, “will you marry me and live with me wherever you want to? Whither thou goest . . . That sort of thing?”

“Yes,” she said.

He put Kim’s ring on Jecca’s finger, then stood up and kissed her.

Jecca kissed him back—and held her left hand out so the women could see the ring.

“Happy?” he whispered against her lips.

“Sublimely so,” she said.

“Still afraid?”

“Not anymore. I love you, Tristan. With all my heart.”

“I didn’t think I could love anyone as much as I love you,” he said and kissed her again.