Читать книгу Desperately Seeking Daddy - Arlene James, Arlene James - Страница 8

Heller shook her head. She should have known she’d find him here. Well, she admired his dedication. Pity she was too tired to tell him so. With a sigh she climbed the steps and endured his glare until he decided to move out of her doorway. She went inside and carefully draped the clothing she’d worn to the store the day before over the back of the chair at the end of the kitchen table. She looked around the room, acutely aware of how small and shabby it must appear in Jack Tyler’s eyes. She grimaced at the sight of the popcorn bowl turned over in the middle of the living room rug.

“Betty!” she scolded disapprovingly as she moved across the floor. She stooped and began cleaning up the mess. “I’ve asked you time and again to pick up after yourself.”

“Sorry,” Betty grumbled. “But it just happened. I knocked over the bowl when I got up to let him in.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have knocked it over if you hadn’t left it sitting in the middle of the floor,” Heller pointed out. She picked up the bowl and started toward the kitchen with it, only to walk straight into Jack Tyler. She bounced off his chest, one hand clutching the popcorn bowl, the other pushing hair out of her face. “Oops. Sorry.” She sidestepped and walked around him. As she carried the bowl into the kitchen, she said over her shoulder, “I’m a walking zombie this morning. My replacement didn’t show up, so I had to work a second shift at the nursing home.”

“Nursing home?” His voice sounded startlingly deep and resonant in such small quarters.

She turned to look up into his face. My, he was big and undeniably handsome. She suddenly felt rumpled and plain in her faded green uniform. She lifted a hand self-consciously to the back of her neck, then scowled. What was wrong with her? She’d decided long ago to let the world take her at face value. What did she care what anyone thought as long as she knew that she was doing her dead-level best? If she looked like something the cat had dragged in, it was because she’d been up all night working in an effort to support her family. She fixed Jack Tyler with a cold glare. “We can’t all be school principals,” she informed him tartly. “Some of us have to make do as convenience store clerks and nurse’s aides.”

To her surprise, his hazel eyes gleamed sympathetically before he looked away. “It must be difficult for you,” he said quietly, “working two jobs.”

Difficult didn’t begin to describe her personal daily grind, but she found herself wanting to reassure him. She shrugged. “I manage.”

She heard the slap of bare feet on the bare linoleum of the hallway floor and looked in that direction just as Cody wandered into view. His ash brown hair stuck up at odd angles. His bare chest looked painfully thin, the knobs of his shoulders protruding awkwardly before dwindling into stringy arms. There was a small hole near the elastic waistband of his threadbare briefs. She watched him knuckle the sleep from his eyes and felt a surge of motherly love. His big, hazel gaze wandered the room briefly before settling on her. He smiled, his eyes lazily moving on. Suddenly, recognition flooded his face.

“Mr. Tyler?”

“Hello, Cody.”

His mouth dropped open, his eyes growing impossibly large in his small face. He shot a panicked look at his mother. “Am I in trouble?”

Heller hurried across the room to slide an arm about his narrow shoulders. “No, of course not.” Yet, she didn’t know what Mr. Tyler wanted. She eyed him uneasily. It must be important, for him to visit her twice in less than twenty-four hours, and he had said that it involved Cody. She tightened her embrace, as wary in her way as Cody, when Jackson Tyler walked forward and bent at the waist, his big hand reaching out to cover the top of Cody’s head.

“Must be a shock to wake up and find the principal in your home,” he said, humor softening the tones of his deep voice, “but you don’t have a thing to worry about. I just want to talk to your mom about a certain advertisement you drew.”

Cody’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Really? Oh, boy! I knew it’d work!”

“Now don’t blow things all out of proportion,” Tyler warned gently. “This business isn’t nearly as simple as you seem to think.”

“What business?” Heller asked, puzzled. “What advertisement? What are you talking about?”

Jack Tyler straightened and slid a glance down at Cody, his thick brows lifting. “Didn’t tell her, hmm?”

Cody shook his head. “She’s too selfish suffishenly,” he said with dead certainty.

Tyler chuckled. “Selfish suffish—Ah. I’ll remember that. Self-sufficient types can pose problems.”

Cody grinned, and Jack Tyler winked conspiratorially. Heller folded her arms and began tapping a toe, too exhausted to exercise her patience. “Will someone please tell me what’s going on here?”

“Exactly my intention,” Tyler said, glancing around at the small room. He stroked his mustache and seemed to reach a decision. “How does breakfast sound?”

She blinked at him. “Breakfast?”

He nodded. “If you’re going to work two jobs and stay up all night, you ought at least to eat properly. I’ll have you back within the hour, promise.” He made a small gesture in Cody’s direction. “And it’ll give us a chance to talk—in private.”

Heller looked down at Cody’s bright, expectant face. He gazed at Jackson Tyler with an oddly covetous expression. What on earth was going on here? Well, there was only one way to find out. She pushed aside the physical exhaustion and met Jackson Tyler’s gaze with curiosity.

“Just let me brush my hair and wash my face.”

Cody literally jumped into the air, smacking his hands together with glee. “All ri-i-ight!”

Heller placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Don’t wake your brother and sister.”

He ducked his head apologetically, still grinning. “Sorry.”

“And get dressed. It’s not polite to run around the house in your underwear.”

He nodded compliance. She smiled approvingly and tilted his face up for a kiss. He flung his arms around her neck and smacked her noisily on the mouth. She noted that she didn’t have to bend as far as she had only a month or so ago. He was growing up, this first-born son of hers, and much too quickly from her perspective. She wondered what had put that sparkle in his usually solemn eyes and what it had to do with Jackson Tyler.

“I’ll only be a minute,” she promised, her gaze wandering once more to the big man standing in the middle of her small living room. She turned Cody toward the bedroom he shared with his brother and sister and ushered him down the hall, leaving him at the door with a whispered admonishment to be very quiet. He nodded and slipped inside the room.

Heller hurried on down the hallway to the bathroom. Quickly, she tidied herself, her mind whirling with questions. She wished she had time to change clothing, but she knew that would only delay the answers she needed to quell her concerns. Besides, this was a conference, not a date. She only hoped that whatever Jack Tyler had to say would not threaten the sanctity of her family. God knew they were already holding on by a thread.

Jack waited uncomfortably for Heller Moore to return. Taking her to breakfast had been a stroke of genius. Not only could Heller eat a proper meal in a relaxing setting, he could tell her about the advertisement without embarrassing either her or Cody more than necessary. In addition, it might allow him to deal with the situation without disappointing the boy. He’d read the hope and delight in Cody’s sleepy eyes when he’d mentioned the advertisement and had known what the boy was thinking. It did Jack’s ego no harm to think the kid was pleased with the prospect of him as a stepfather, however unlikely the scenario, and he’d realized how embarrassed the boy would be to learn of his mistake—not to mention his mother’s embarrassment at having his foolish scheme revealed in front of another party.

That other party was even then studying him with narrowed, blackened eyes, as if he were a piece of merchandise on a shelf. He curbed his impulse to tell her to mind her own business, and settled for asking a few politely framed questions in the guise of small talk. In short order he learned that she was the baby-sitter, trading her services for a place to sleep on Heller’s couch, meals and a little spending money. Obviously she didn’t put herself out more than she had to, and she hadn’t displayed excellent judgment in letting him in without so much as a glance at his face or a word of explanation.

He was warning her about the dangers of opening the door to a stranger when Heller returned, still wearing the faded uniform but looking a bit revived. He winced inwardly at the scathing words he’d planned for this small, spunky woman who worked two demanding jobs just to keep her family together in this little trailer. Buying her breakfast seemed a mild atonement for jumping to conclusions. He opened the door for her, noting the quirk of her lips as she marked that small courtesy. Was courtesy such a useless commodity in her life then? It seemed so.

She went straight to his car, waiting beside it with a small, wry smile until he opened the door and helped her inside. Thanking him with a nod of her head and that quirk of her lips, she buckled her seat belt. He walked around the car and slid in beside her. His hand fell automatically to the sheet of paper that lay facedown on the seat between them, but she put her head back, closed her eyes and sighed, exhaustion evident in the slump of her shoulders and the slack muscles of her face. He picked up the paper, folded it and slipped it into his shirt pocket. It could wait until she’d eaten.

The local cafe had already seen its morning rush and was enjoying the lull before the bustle of preparing for the lunch crowd. Jack waved at the middle-aged waitress sipping a cup of coffee at a table near the kitchen door. She smiled and got up, making her way toward the booth into which he and Heller Moore settled. Heller pulled a menu from beneath the napkin dispenser, murmuring, “I’m starved.”

“Morning, Jack!”

He smiled at the waitress, another one of those women who worked unbelievably hard for far too little compensation and looked it. How long, he found himself wondering, before Heller’s face and hands began to show the kind of wear and tear that this woman’s did? He found the thought unpleasant.

“Good morning, Liz. This is Mrs. Moore.”

Liz cracked her gum and grinned down at Heller. “Yeah, I know you. You work down at the convenience store, don’t you?”

“That’s right.” Heller returned her smile.

Liz pulled out her pad and pencil, ready to get down to business. “What can I get you?”

Heller studied the menu she’d opened. Jack glanced at Liz. “Coffee and Danish for me.”

Heller snapped the menu closed. “Same.”

He reached over and flipped the menu open again. “Order a decent breakfast. I’ve already had one.”

She couldn’t quite hide her relief and pleasure. “If you insist.”

He winked at Liz as Heller went over the choices again.

“Um, I’ll have the Belgian waffle and coffee,” she decided.

“Bring her an order of sausage links and hash browns with that,” he added, feeling positively expansive.

“Oh, it’s too much,” she protested, but Liz had already received her instructions and was walking away.

“And rush it,” Jack called to the retreating waitress. She flipped an acknowledgment with one hand and stabbed her pencil into the jumble of curls atop her head.

“I’m sorry for standing you up this morning,” Heller apologized after a moment.

Jack nodded and shrugged. “I understand. Circumstances beyond your control.”

“I couldn’t call. They don’t allow us to make personal calls from the nursing home, especially long-distance ones.”

He nodded again and asked a few astute questions about the place where she worked, learning that it was a small, private facility in a neighboring community. She liked the old folks, she said, but it was heavy work. Thankfully, it was only four hours most nights. Four hours after standing on her feet all day at the convenience store, he mused silently. The food arrived in record time. He mentally promised Liz a generous tip as he watched Heller wade in with relish. For a small woman, she could certainly pack it in. Two jobs must require twice the nutrition, Jack mused.

They were enjoying final cups of coffee, the table having been cleared, when he drew the folded paper from his pocket and placed it on the table. “I found this posted on that big bulletin board outside the grocery yesterday,” he said without preamble.

She picked it up, unfolded it and stared at what was revealed. He watched her jaw drop and her face turn hot pink. “Good grief!”

He dropped his gaze to his cup. “It’s quite a good likeness, actually,” he said softly. Then he ratcheted up his gaze. “I’m sure Cody didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

She covered her face with both hands, pushed her hair back and sighed, staring down at the crayon markings on the paper. “He wants to help. He knows it’s difficult, being a single parent. I try not to let him see, but—” Her voice thinned and wobbled. In another moment, tears dripped onto the lined paper.

Jack sat stunned for a moment, his heart turning over in his chest. He hadn’t expected her to cry. That was the last thing he’d expected, and he felt helpless to deal with it. To his disgust, the only thing he could think to do was to take her in his arms and promise her that all would be well. But he couldn’t do that. He hardly knew the woman. He settled for fishing a paper napkin out of the dispenser and thrusting it at her. She took it, sniffed and dried her cheeks.

“You must think I’m an awful mother,” she said directly, lifting tearful eyes.

To his surprise he thought she was utterly beguiling, beautiful and brave. He gave his head an awkward shake, as much to dislodge the thought as to deny hers. “Uh, no. No, it’s obvious you’re doing the best you can in difficult circumstances. I just thought I ought to try to spare you and Cody as much discomfort over this little incident as I could. He wouldn’t realize how dangerous it could be, posting your telephone number publicly, or that you’d feel…well…”

“Mortified ought to about cover it,” she said, shredding a corner of the flimsy napkin. After a pause, she went on. “It’s the divorce.” She laid her hands on the table and moved her head slowly side to side as if trying to find words to explain what she didn’t understand herself.

“Cody’s father was never much good at providing for us, so it’s no surprise that he doesn’t pay his child support. But at least he was there with the children when I had to be away from them.” She sighed and lifted a hand to her forehead. “Then I’d come in from work exhausted, and he’d want his night out on the town, his good time, and we’d argue, which was all the excuse he needed to storm out and drink up every extra cent I could pull together.”

She dropped her hand and smoothed out the napkin, studying it as if it held the secrets to the universe. “It wasn’t the drinking or the carousing I couldn’t stand,” she went on softly. “I didn’t like it, but I could stand it What I couldn’t abide was the infidelity.” Her voice dwindled to a whisper, so that Jack found himself leaning forward to catch every word. “A woman’s self-esteem can’t take very much of that, you know. But Cody wouldn’t understand that. All he knows is that it seemed easier when I wasn’t alone, and for the children perhaps it was.” She sighed again and closed her eyes. “I don’t know.”

Jack cleared his throat, uncomfortable with this intimate new knowledge. He’d never understood how any man could cheat on his wife and face himself in the mirror, but to cheat on this woman? That ex of hers must give new meaning to the word idiot. On the other hand, what did he really know about it? He pushed a hand over his face, realizing that he wasn’t being very logical. He swept a gaze over her and gulped. He was definitely letting appearance—that was to say, attraction—sway his judgment. Realizing that he had to say something in response, he grasped the first harmless thing that entered his head.

“D-divorce is difficult for everyone involved.” Oh, brilliant. Tell her something she doesn’t know. “S-sometimes it’s simply the lesser of two evils.”

She nodded. “That’s true.”

He felt a surge of confidence and plunged on. “Cody can’t be expected to understand that, though.”

She sighed. “I know. It’s just…” She agonized for a moment, biting her lip, then blurted, “I couldn’t stand being married to someone who used and abused me.” She leaned across the table, imploring him to understand. “Carmody took my money and spent it on other women! It didn’t matter to him that the children and I did without. To him, life is all about having fun, and I know that attitude too well to believe I could defeat it. I grew up with that attitude. My father worked only so he could afford to party, with no thought for his children and our needs, and that suited my mother just fine so long as she could party with him.

“But I’m not like that, and I don’t want my children to be like that. I thought the divorce would be best for all of us, but maybe I just rationalized that to ease my conscience. I wanted the divorce and I got it. And now my children are suffering for it.” Her gaze dropped forlornly to the crayon drawing.

Jack impulsively covered her hand with his. She looked up suddenly, tossing her hair back. Her pale blue eyes were wide with shock. He quickly pulled his hand away, his gaze skittering around the booth as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts. “Uh, you…you did what you thought best. N-no doubt you were right. In a situation like that, what other choice was there?”

She spread her hands in a gesture of helplessness. “If only Carmody would pay more attention to the children. If he’d just help out now and again financially…” One slender brow arched in irony. “He didn’t do that when we were married. Why would I expect it of him now? Yet my children need their father. I just don’t know what the answer is.”

“Maybe you just keep doing the best you can,” he said.

Her mouth quirked up on one end. “You think I’m doing the best I can, then?”

He blinked, realizing how much he’d revealed by that one less-than-helpful statement, and looked down at his cold cup. “You were thinking of working three jobs maybe?”

She shook her head, smiling at that. “No. Working two jobs and being a mom is definitely all I can handle. Problem is, I have to try to be a dad, too.”

He said it before he thought. “Maybe Cody had the right idea, after all.” His own words knocked Jack back against his seat. “I—I mean, that’s one thing Cody obviously does understand, th-that you can’t do it by yourself. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be trying to find you a husband, and we wouldn’t be here now, would we?”

She cocked her head at that, studied him pointedly for a few moments and said, “I know why I’m here, but I’m not quite certain why you are.”

He was careful to think before he replied this time, and he quickly came up with a number of possibilities. He could say, for instance, that his being here was just part and parcel of his job, that he felt a genuine responsibility for the children who attended his school, that he couldn’t ignore the wordless plea of a troubled little boy. He could even say it was simple courtesy or curiosity or pure happenstance. Instead, he heard himself saying, “Maybe I mean to apply for the position.”

For the longest moment she stared as if frozen. Jack felt the very same way, as if he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t even think. Then slowly the implications of what he’d said crept over him. He didn’t know this woman! Was he so lonely, so empty, that he’d let a misspelled ad drawn in crayon decide his destiny? Did he need his own family so desperately that he’d settle for merely being needed himself? A deep, bitter sense of shame engulfed him. He felt his face burn hot and closed his eyes. He would’ve bitten his tongue off if it had meant being able to unsay those careless words.

Then suddenly she burst out laughing. Jack stared at her, his mouth open, while the sound of her laughter, so bright and cheerful and healing, built and built. It was rather funny—absurd, in fact. His mouth wobbled; he brushed his mustache with his fingertips to still it, but the smile broke free, and a chuckle followed it. That chuckle felt so good that he gave himself up to it. When the merriment played out, she wiped her eyes and braced her elbows on the tabletop.

“I needed that.”

He nodded, feeling sheepish, as an uneasy new awareness tightened the lines of her face. He glanced at his watch without paying the time any real attention and slid out of the booth. “I’d better pay the check and get you home.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

He made short work of it. Within the minute they were in the car again. She laid her head back and closed her eyes. After a bit he noticed that a smile hovered about her lips. He allowed himself to feel a little gush of pleasure at that. He’d embarrassed himself, but if he’d saved her some embarrassment in the process…well, somehow that was enough.

He brought the car to a stop in front of her house, wondering if he would have to wake her, but she immediately lifted her head and gave him a clear-eyed look.

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

He glanced away, not wanting her to see how that pleased him. “Unnecessary. I’d have done the same for any of my students.”

“I can see that,” she said, smiling warmly. She lifted her hand, Cody’s folded portrait clutched in it. “I’ll try to make him understand that this isn’t a solution.”

He nodded. “Just remember to thank him for trying to help.”

“I will.”

She opened the car door and started to get out, but Jack found that he wasn’t quite prepared to let it end like this. He caught her hand in his, and when she stopped to look back at him, he gently pried the folded paper from her fist.

“I’d like to keep this, if you don’t mind.” He grinned. “I have a kind of collection. Kids have such a funny way of viewing this wacky world of ours, you know, and I find it comforting to remind myself of that from time to time.”

“You keep it then,” she said, and got out of the car.

He resisted the impulse to kill the engine and walk her to her door. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, but not the wisest, perhaps. He wouldn’t want to plant false hope, not after all he’d said, first intimating that she might truly need a husband and then blurting that perhaps he would apply for the position! No, far better to just keep his seat.

She closed the door and backed away, bending a little to look at him through the window and fold her hand in a kind of wave. “Bye.”

“Goodbye.”

He watched her turn and walk across the dusty yard to the stoop. She climbed the steps, opened the door and paused to wave once more before going inside. He slipped the folded crayon drawing into his shirt pocket, then started the car down the street, telling himself it was over. He’d done his duty. It was all anyone could expect of him, all he ought to expect of himself.

But he couldn’t help remembering the way Cody’s face had lighted up when he’d believed that Mr. Tyler was there to court his mother, or the exhaustion and regret in Heller Moore’s eyes when she’d admitted that she couldn’t do it all alone. He couldn’t help thinking, either, that Cody’s conclusion was right, despite his method of trying to solve the problem. She did need someone, someone who would appreciate her strength and determination, her honesty and spunk. Someone who loved and enjoyed kids. Someone who wouldn’t cheat.

He shook his head, surprised at himself. Was he honestly contemplating involvement with Heller Moore? What if he did see her again? Would he find that she wasn’t the woman he thought her to be? Would disappointment lead to regret? He’d been disappointed before, bitterly so. Perhaps he ought to consider that a lesson learned and let well enough alone. Perhaps he ought to find someone with whom he had more in common. Another educator? Yes, that was the kind of woman in whom he should be interested. A safe, sensible, middle-class lady with her life together and time to consider him and his needs. He’d give the matter some serious thought, he promised himself. Someday.

Heller caught the baby by the ankle and pulled him back into the middle of the bed.

“Sit still, Davy,” Cody scolded, shaking a finger at his little brother.

Davy plopped onto his bottom, stuck his tongue out and waggled his head side to side. “Sit, you’se’f!” He fell back, laughing in two-and-a-half-year-old glee.

Cody scowled. “Why don’t you go in the other room, Davy? I’m trying to talk to Mama.”

At the very suggestion of being parted from his mother, Davy lunged up and threw his arms around her neck from the back, crying out, “No-o-o!”

Heller patted his chubby arms, swaying beneath his weight against her back. “It’s all right, honey. Just settle down now so I can talk to your big brother.” She stifled a tired sign and smiled down at Cody’s pouty face. “Do you understand what I’m trying to say, son? Marriage isn’t like a garage sale, Cody. You can’t just post notice and take your best offer.”

Confusion dulled his hazel eyes. “But, Mama, Mr. Tyler’s a real nice man. He don’t drink or nothing, ‘cause he’s always telling us how dangerous it is, and he likes kids. I know he does! Even when you’re bad he still rubs you on the head and stuff. He don’t even cuss when he’s mad!”

Heller didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She shook her head, hoping to shake some new idea into it, but all she could do was repeat what she’d already said. “Mr. Tyler is a very nice man, Cody, but he would no more marry some woman he met through an advertisement than he would…cuss in front of you children.”

Cody’s thin brows drew together. “I don’t see why not, if he likes you.”

Heller rolled her eyes, then clamped down on the impulse to tear at her hair, closing her eyes and pulling in a deep breath instead. Calm again, she smiled. Davy drummed his knees against her spine, turning the smile to a grimace. She pulled him around into her lap and tucked his head beneath her chin. “There’s one thing you haven’t taken into consideration, Cody,” she told him smoothly, “and that is that I don’t want to get married again.”

He cocked his head to one side. “How come? Don’t you like Mr. Tyler?”

Flabbergasted, Heller just stared at him for a moment. Davy slid down her lap, flopped over and eased himself onto the floor, where he promptly began running circles around Cody. She caught him and pointed him toward the door. He ran screaming down the hallway, then turned around and headed back. Heller pulled Cody to her side, an arm draped around his shoulders. “Cody, honey, it doesn’t have anything to do with Mr. Tyler.”

“But don’t you like him?”

“Yes, of course I do, but that doesn’t mean I want to marry him.”

“How come?”

She searched for the right words. “You have to have a special feeling for the person you want to marry.”

“What kind of special feeling?”

“Well, it’s kind of like…” She thought suddenly of that moment back at the café when Jack Tyler had covered her hand with his and electricity had shot up her arm, practically knocking her out of her seat. She shook herself, alarmed. Man, she really had to get some sleep! She hugged Cody and said, “I can’t explain it, Cody, and I know you were trying to help me when you put up that advertisement, but please, please don’t do anything like that again. All right?”

He set his mouth glumly, but then nodded.

She kissed the top of his head. “Thank you, sweetheart. I love you so much.” She tilted his face up with one fingertip. “You’re all I need, son, you and your brother and sister.”

He put his arms around her neck and mumbled against her shoulder, “I love you, too, Mom.”

“I know you do, and I’m so glad.” She ruffled his hair. Davy burst through the door, squealing like a stuck hog, and threw himself against the bed. Heller caught him by the arms before he fell to the floor and bent down low to hug him. “Okay, who wants to take a nap with Mommy?”

Cody snorted with disgust. “Huh! Not me. Davy, you want to take a nap?”

Davy squirmed free of his mother’s hold, shaking his head so hard his eyes wobbled.

“Go on then,” Heller said, getting up and throwing back the bed covers. “Betty will give you a snack, then I’ll make us lunch before I go to work.” She crawled into the bed, settled back onto her pillow and tossed the covers over her lower body. “Kiss-kiss.”

Cody smacked her, then held up Davy so he could smear his mouth against her cheek. Heller smiled and closed her eyes. Cody tiptoed out, herding Davy ahead of him, and quietly shut the door. Davy yelled fit to raise the dead and ran down the hall.

Heller turned over, already drifting into a badly needed sleep. She tuned out Davy’s grab for attention and Cody’s troubling questions and the knowledge that she would have to rise again in less than two hours. A picture formed before her closed eyes. Jack Tyler. She saw that silly little grin he’d worn as he’d sat there across the table from her, heard the flip—yet almost serious—way he’d said, “Maybe I mean to apply for the position.”

She felt again the lurch of her heart, the spurt of euphoria and then the immediate, crushing, bitter return to reality. For the briefest of moments she had actually believed him, and then the absurdity of it had hit her, and she had laughed at that silly little woman inside of her, that undying romantic, that foolish, hopeful, needy woman who could believe, even for a moment, that a man like Jack Tyler would seriously want to build a life with a woman like her. She had laughed at herself.

She wasn’t laughing now. And in her heart of hearts, she knew she never had.