Читать книгу A Time To Forgive - Darlene Gardner, Darlene Gardner - Страница 10

WHEN CONNOR SMITH MADE UP his mind to do something, he followed through. The practice had served him well both in business and in his personal life.

As he’d listened to the symphony perform in the gilded Concert Hall, somewhere between the bull-fighter theme from Bizet’s Carmen and the finale from Rossini’s William Tell Overture, he’d set his mind on getting to know Abby Reed better.

His venue of choice would have been a quiet dinner for two at his town house, but with the addition of a nine-year-old, his home was no longer so private.

When he’d caught Abby peeking looks at him during the concert, he thought that accomplishing his mission wouldn’t be difficult. But something imperceptible had changed since the concert’s end, because the looks she’d stolen on the bus seemed more like glares.

The bus had arrived at Blue Moon Elementary five minutes ago. An hour remained in the school day, so Abby had already sent the protesting students back to their classes. Connor had called a goodbye to Jaye, but she’d given him her back. Neither of them, it seemed, looked forward to the punishment he’d mete out tonight.

He waited for the ex-military chaperone to finish telling Abby how much she’d enjoyed the field trip before he approached Abby, who was heading for the brightly colored main hall of the school. “Miss Reed, can I talk to you for a minute?”

He thought she might ignore him and keep on walking, but then she turned. It was a windy day, and her short dark hair had gotten slightly tousled in the brief walk from the bus to the school. The appealing disarray should have made her seem more approachable, but he read reluctance in her stance. “What is it, Mr. Smith?”

It had been a long time since he’d been so nervous at the prospect of asking out a woman. He cleared his throat, thinking it best if he eased into the subject. “You were right about letting Jaye stay to hear the concert. I could tell she was enraptured.”

He sensed some of the tension leaving her body and imagined she looked a fraction more relaxed.

“She was. You should look into getting her private lessons.” Her gaze sharpened. “You do let her practice, don’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

She hesitated, then said, “No reason. As I was saying, extra lessons would help her. There’s only so much I can teach her when she’s part of a group. If you’re interested, I have a sheet with names and phone numbers of private teachers that I’ll send home with her.”

“That’d be great.”

“Fine.” She seemed to think the conversation was over and started to turn away.

“But that wasn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”

She regarded him so coolly, it felt as if the temperature in the elementary school had dropped. Now was probably not the optimum time for what he had in mind, but he wasn’t sure when he’d get another chance.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

One of the inspirational quotes J.D. used to spout during football season sprang to mind. The kid had a ton of them, all meant to motivate himself to become the best athlete he could be. They’d worked, too. J. D. Smith had been well on the road to athletic glory before that son of a bitch had robbed him of his life. Biting back the familiar rush of anger, Connor thrust his brother from his mind and concentrated on the saying.

“I’ll get straight to the point. Would you have dinner with me this weekend?”

If he’d asked if she’d cut off her right arm and give it to him, she couldn’t have looked more appalled. “No.”

He rocked back on his heels, surprised at the firmness of her response. He’d been refused before, but never so baldly. But maybe he’d made a mistake. Once again he checked her left ring finger. Yes, it was still bare.

“Are you involved with someone else?” he asked.

“No. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my classroom.”

She took two steps before Connor recovered enough to find his voice. “Wait.”

Reluctance written plainly on her face, she turned back to him. “What’s the matter, Mr. Smith, aren’t you used to being turned down?”

“It’s not that. It’s the way you did it.” He scratched his chin. “You could have softened the blow, said something about how it’s against your policy to date relatives of students.”

“I don’t have a dating policy,” she said. “But if it bothers you that much, let me rephrase my answer. Thank you for the invitation, but no thank you.”

He frowned. “If I’ve done something to offend you, I’d sure like to know what it was.”

“You mean besides not signing the permission slip until I came to your office and then showing up late for the bus?”

He was about to point out that technically he hadn’t been late, but they’d already covered that ground. “Besides that.”

Her chest rose, then fell. Clearly she wanted to be rid of him. “Jaye’s told me some things.”

“What things?” he pressed.

“I know you hadn’t seen her in years until recently.”

“That’s right,” he said slowly, wondering where she was going with this.

“And I know you felt like you had to take her in.”

“That’s right, too,” he said. “The alternative was foster care, and I couldn’t let that happen.”

“Am I supposed to give you points for that?”

He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

“It was your responsibility to take her in after her mother died. You—”

“Hold on a minute,” he interrupted, trying to make sense of her tirade. “Jaye’s mother isn’t dead.”

“But Jaye said…” Abby’s voice trailed off, and her brow knotted before understanding dawned on her face. “I take it her mother never had cancer, either?”

“No cancer, as far as I know. But then I don’t know a lot about the situation. She and Jaye showed up at my place one night a month or so ago. The next morning, Diana was gone.”

“She just left Jaye without a word?”

“Without a word to Jaye. She left a note for me, saying she needed time to work things out and get her head on straight.”

Abby shook her own head. She clearly didn’t understand what would drive a mother to abandon her child, but neither did Connor. “No wonder Jaye’s having such a tough time.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. I’m doing the best I can, but it doesn’t seem to be enough.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed that you’re now doing what you should have been doing all along?” Her voice held an edge.

“I’m not trying to impress anybody.” He felt as though he were defending himself, but he wasn’t sure for what. “Jaye’s family. It’s my responsibility to help her out.”

“It was your responsibility to work harder at keeping in contact with her,” she snapped.

He cocked his head, wondering at the cause of the unfriendly glint in her eyes. “Do you have a problem with me?”

“Yes, I do,” she retorted. “Don’t you think Jaye knows that you don’t really want her? That’s a hard thing for any daughter to swallow about her father.”

Connor gaped at her as her resentment toward him finally made sense.

“Jaye’s not my daughter,” he said. “She’s my niece.”

ABBY WAS SURE SHE’D BEEN struck speechless before, but couldn’t remember when.

She stared at Connor, suddenly viewing him in a brand-new light. He wasn’t a deadbeat dad. He was a bachelor uncle who’d taken in a young girl who had nowhere else to go.

“If you’re not her father,” she said slowly, “where is he?”

“Diana—that’s my sister—doesn’t know who Jaye’s father is. She had Jaye when she was seventeen. Rumor was that most of the boys in town had Diana before that.”

He related his sister’s history in a flat voice Abby suspected hid a wealth of emotion.

“After she got pregnant, Diana went to stay with our great-aunt near Roanoke. She lived there until Aunt Aggie died about five years ago. Then she just took off with Jaye. She’d call from time to time to say she was okay but we didn’t know where they were until last month.”

“When they showed up on your doorstep,” Abby finished.

He nodded mutely.

“But why leave Jaye with you? Why not leave her with your mother?” Something occurred to her. “Your mother is alive, isn’t she?”

“Very much alive,” Connor assured her, “but she and Diana, they clash. I guess Diana thought I was the best choice.”

The next time Abby was alone with Jaye, she’d take her to task for the outrageous lies she’d told about her uncle and mother. But tattling on the girl now would be like heaping kindling onto a fire. Jaye was already in enough trouble with Connor for her behavior on the bus.

Abby bit down on her lower lip. She’d been so off the mark that she was tempted to find the nearest desk so she could crawl under it. But that wasn’t the way she lived her life. She owned up to her mistakes.

“I owe you an apology,” she said and gulped. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

He nodded, keeping his eyes on her face. “I know of a way you can make it up to me.”

She felt her heart slamming against her chest wall. He couldn’t possibly mean to renew his dinner invitation, could he? Not after she’d unfairly accused him of neglecting a daughter he didn’t even have?

“You can give Jaye private lessons,” he said. “You are one of the teachers on the list, right?”

Disappointment shot through her that he hadn’t asked her out again, followed by annoyance at herself. High-powered stockbrokers who worked long hours weren’t her type, even if they did take responsibility for their nieces.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m on the list.”

“Great,” he said. “How does Saturday morning sound?”

“Just in case my neighbors want to sleep in on weekends, I don’t teach on Saturday mornings. I don’t take students late on weeknights, either. I live in a duplex converted into apartments. I’ve managed to schedule all my students Monday through Thursday before six o’clock.”

He grimaced. “I couldn’t get Jaye to you until six at the earliest.”

She did some quick mental calculations. Most of her neighbors didn’t arrive home from work until after seven. In the two years she’d taught private lessons and practiced her own music, they’d yet to complain that they could hear her through their shared walls. “I can work with that.”

“Then we have a deal. When you send home that list, write down whatever night fits into your schedule.”

“Okay,” she said.

He nodded in agreement. It appeared as though he might say something else, but then he turned and walked away. She stared after him, rationalizing away the lingering disappointment.

She’d treated him unfairly so it was only logical for her to make amends. She’d done that by agreeing to adjust her teaching schedule in order to give Jaye private lessons.

Wishing he’d given her a second chance to accept a dinner date that would probably have turned out badly did absolutely no good. No good at all.

ABBY WATCHED THE MINUTE HAND on the clock in her living room tick by until it reached six-thirty, a half hour past when Connor was supposed to have arrived with Jaye for her first private lesson.

She picked up her own violin and played a few notes before becoming distracted. Had Jaye and her uncle forgotten? That seemed unlikely considering the talk Abby had with Jaye after strings class that afternoon. Abby had made it clear that she wouldn’t stand being lied to, nor would she keep any future misbehavior from Connor. Jaye had nodded mutely, then asked Abby not to change her mind about giving the private lessons. So then where were they?

Abby’s duplex apartment in Wheaton, a less attractive but more affordable area than Silver Spring, was about five miles and fifteen minutes north of the elementary school on a good day. Had Connor and Jaye gotten caught in unexpectedly heavy rush-hour traffic? If so, why hadn’t they called? And why was she so anxious at the prospect of seeing Connor again that she kept checking the front window every five minutes?

She parted the mini blinds, spotted the silver Porsche in front of her duplex and jumped back so they wouldn’t see her peering out at them. When the doorbell rang, she made herself wait a good ten seconds before pulling open the door.

Jaye stood on the stoop in front of Connor, her lower lip trembling and her face streaked with tears. Forgetting her anxiety at seeing Connor, Abby quickly ushered the nine-year-old inside. “Jaye, honey, what’s wrong?”

Jaye dipped her blond head, her thin shoulders shaking. Abby’s eyes raised to Connor. He was dressed in an expensive tailored suit, the same way he’d been the other times she’d seen him, but the similarities ended there.

His hair was disheveled, as though he’d been running his fingers through it. Smudges appeared under his eyes, and he seemed at a loss.

“She’s been like this since I picked her up at the school,” he explained. “Granted I was a little late—”

“Fifteen minutes late,” Jaye interjected.

Connor finished the sentence at the same time. “But it was only fifteen minutes.”

“I was the last one there,” Jaye said unhappily.

Abby rubbed the girl’s shoulder, silently conveying that she understood. She had experience dealing with children of this age. Promptness might not seem like that big of a deal, but every minute counted when a child was waiting to be picked up.

Especially a child whose mother had left her and hadn’t come back. Couldn’t Connor see that?

“I’m sure your uncle didn’t mean to be late, Jaye,” Abby told the girl in a soothing voice.

“He’s late all the time,” Jaye said.

“Some of the time,” Connor clarified.

“And now we’re late for the lesson.” Jaye glanced at the clock, which showed the time at twenty-five minutes before seven. “There’s only ten minutes left.”

“I don’t usually do this.” Abby never did this. “But you’re my last lesson of the day. How about we go until seven-twenty. That way, you won’t miss a minute.”

Jaye’s tears stopped flowing. “Really? You’d do that?”

“I most certainly will. Go over to the sofa and take your instrument out of the case. Will you do that, Jaye?”

“Sure,” she said and headed away from them.

“Thanks,” Connor said. “You’re saving my life.”

He looked so relieved that she nearly let him off the hook but realized she couldn’t. For Jaye’s sake. “This is a one-time thing,” she said quietly. “From now on, you need to get her here on time.”

He swiped a hand over his brow and lowered his own voice. “I don’t have the kind of job where it’s that easy to leave at a prearranged time. Clients call. They’re paying me for my time. I can’t just hang up on them.”

“You’re going to have to figure something out,” she said.

“I know that. I just don’t know what it’s going to be.”

His vulnerability touched a chord deep inside her. “Maybe we can talk about it later. But for now, Jaye’s waiting for her lesson. You can pick her up at about twenty after seven.”

“Would it be okay if I stuck around?” He lifted his portable computer. “I have a couple things I need to check online. Any flat surface will do. Your kitchen table would be great.”

She glanced at the still-sniffling Jaye. She sensed that something more serious than Connor showing up late was bothering her. Jaye would never reveal what it was if she thought her uncle could overhear.

“I find that my students do better without their parents—or in this case, their uncle—in the room.” She nodded toward the door. “Seven-twenty.”

She expected him to argue, but instead he asked, “Any suggestions on a place I could go for forty-five minutes?”

“There’s a public library a half mile down the road. It has lots of cubicles, all with flat surfaces.”

He tipped a nonexistent hat to her, said goodbye to a nonresponsive Jaye and left. Pasting a smile on her face, Abby turned to the girl. “Are you ready for your lesson?”

Jaye nodded, but made no move to pick up her violin from the open case. Abby lifted the delicate instrument, turning it over while she examined it. It was a rental from a popular music store, adequate for a beginner but not of the caliber Abby suggested for her more serious students. For now, though, it would do.

She handed the violin to Jaye. The girl took it but didn’t lift the instrument onto her shoulder the way Abby had taught her in class.

“What’s wrong, Jaye?”

“I already told you. Connor was late picking me up.” Jaye’s lower lip thrust forward, but the way it trembled betrayed that something more serious than her uncle’s tardiness distressed her.

“Okay,” Abby said, sensing that Jaye would clam up if she tried to force a confidence. “If that’s all it is, then let’s start the lesson.”

Jaye nodded, but her violin remained at her side. Staring at a point on the carpet, she said, “Remember when I told you my mother was dead? Well, I said that because I wish she was dead.”

Abby swallowed a cry of dismay and forced herself to speak in gentle, even tones. “You don’t mean that, honey. Whatever your mother’s done, she’s still your mother.”

“I hate her.” Jaye sniffed but didn’t cry. “She left me with Uncle Connor.”

“Your uncle seems okay to me.”

She shrugged. “He is okay. But he doesn’t have time for me. He doesn’t pick me up from school till six o’clock and half the time he’s late.”

“He has to work, Jaye.” Since Abby had taken Connor to task for putting in too much time at the office, she found it surreal that she was sticking up for him. “I imagine he’s doing the best he can. He didn’t plan on you coming to live with him.”

“He doesn’t want me any more than my mom does.”

Although Connor’s life would obviously be easier if his niece hadn’t come to live with him. Abby couldn’t let the girl paint him with such a negative brush stroke. “He’s your uncle, Jaye. I’m sure he loves you.”

“Then why can’t I come home after school and be with him?”

“I told you, Jaye. He has to work. And you’re not old enough to stay home alone.”

“I’m too old to hang out with the babies at day care.”

“Surely there are other children your age there.”

“They don’t want me there. They’re all boys. They barely talk to me. And they won’t let me play with them.”

Abby swallowed a sigh because she well understood how it felt not to be wanted. Jaye’s situation was doubly difficult. Not only had her mother left her, she was meeting with rejection in every direction she turned. “Have you talked to your uncle about how much you dislike the school-based day care?”

She nodded. “He says it’s the best he can do and that I need to stick it out.”

Abby had a sense that she’d regret her next question, but couldn’t keep from asking it. “I can’t promise anything but would you like me to talk to him for you?”

Jaye nodded eagerly, making Abby feel marginally less apprehensive about the offer. “Oh, yes, please, Miss Reed.”

Abby smiled at her. “When we’re not at school, you can call me Abby.”

Jaye smiled back. “Okay, Abby.”

“Now are you ready for the lesson?”

Jaye nodded.

“Settle the instrument into playing position and let’s do a D scale. Remember to keep your fingers curved and the bow flat on the strings.”

Her lower lip thrust forward in concentration, Jaye did exactly as she was told.

For the next forty-five minutes, Abby tried to focus on the techniques involved in giving a student her first lesson. But every time Jaye played a scale, Abby’s mind wandered to Connor and the conversation she’d promised to have with him.

She wasn’t sure why, but she had the strong impression it wouldn’t go her way.

CONNOR STOOD OUTSIDE THE DOOR of Abby’s duplex a few minutes before he was due to pick up Jaye, listening to the sounds of his niece playing the violin.

She wasn’t anywhere close to a performer’s level of proficiency, but he recognized that she was playing a song.

He felt an odd pride that Jaye could coax any sound at all from the instrument, let alone identifiable notes. Maybe Abby was right. Maybe she did have a talent for the thing.

Not wanting to interrupt the lesson, he tried the door and found it unlocked. He slipped inside, making a mental note to tell Abby that she really should use her dead bolt. Jaye stood in front of a music stand, her concentration fully engaged. Abby was off to one side, looking over her shoulder.

Her eyes met his and held. The air between them seemed to charge with awareness, but then she put a finger to her lips. Maybe he’d only imagined the connection because he wanted it to be there. By adamantly refusing his dinner invitation, she certainly hadn’t given him any reason for hope. But hope he did.

Jaye finished the song, a small smile of triumph on her lips. It faded when she caught sight of Connor.

“That was good, Jaye,” Connor said, but the girl didn’t respond. He stifled a groan. What was it going to take for him to build a relationship with her?

“Your uncle’s right. It was good,” Abby told the girl. “You’ll be graduating to more difficult songs before you know it. Just remember to practice at least twenty minutes every day so you don’t forget what we went over.”

“I always practice more than that.”

“That’s great. You know what they say. Practice makes…”

“Perfect,” the two of them said in unison, then laughed.

When Jaye started to pack up, Abby came directly toward him. His pulse sped up until he realized she only meant to hand him a sheet of paper.

“I wrote down the name of a beginning violin book I’d like you to buy before the next lesson. Any of the area music stores should have it in stock.”

“I’ll do it,” he promised, even as he wondered when he’d have the time.

She’d started to retreat when Jaye stopped her with a loud whisper. “Aren’t you going to ask him?”

“Ask me what?” he said.

“Can I use the bathroom, Abby?” Jaye said before she could answer. It didn’t escape Connor’s notice that she used her teacher’s first name, which Abby must have authorized. Good. The child needed a female role model in her life, and Abby fit the bill. The more comfortable Jaye felt around her, the better.

“Sure. It’s upstairs, first door on the right.” Abby waited until the girl was halfway up the stairs before turning to him. “Jaye wants me to talk to you about her after-school care.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Why can’t she talk to me about it herself?”

Abby shrugged. “I get the impression she thinks you’ll pay more attention if it comes from me.”

He frowned, troubled by the notion that Jaye thought he wasn’t paying enough attention to her. He knew firsthand how that could undermine a child’s confidence. Connor had grown up in the shadow of a younger brother so athletically gifted he’d stolen the spotlight whenever he’d taken a field or a court.

Their parents had dwelled so heavily on J.D.’s accomplishments that it often seemed as though they had little time left for him and Diana. After J.D. had died, they’d become even more hyper-focused on him. Not that Connor had resented his brother for any of that. He’d loved J.D., too. Everybody had.

“What about Jaye’s after-school care?” he asked Abby.

“She hates it.”

He sighed because he’d expected the answer. “I’m not completely oblivious to what’s going on with her. One of the teachers there told me she wasn’t mixing well with the other students.”

“Then you won’t be surprised that she wants you to make other arrangements for her.”

“I’m ahead of you on that. I already got the names of the day-care centers in the area that can pick her up after school.”

“That’s great.”

“No, it’s not. All of them were full. Since I can’t get off work at three o’clock every day, she’s stuck. I don’t have anywhere else for her to go.”

“Maybe the mother of one of her friends will take her.”

“As far as I know, she hasn’t made any real friends.” He thought of the way Jaye had smiled at Abby and called her by her first name. “Except you.”

“Unfortunately that also doesn’t help you,” she said, “because I can’t take her.”

“Why not?” Now that the solution had occurred to him, it seemed perfect. “I’d pay you.”

“It’s not a matter of money. I give private lessons after school four days a week. A child would be bored to tears.”

“Not a child who loves music,” he argued.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” Abby said slowly.

“You don’t want me, either, do you, Abby?” The small voice came from the staircase. Jaye sat frozen in place on one of the middle steps, looking small and vulnerable. And very, very sad.

“It’s not that, honey,” Abby tried to reassure her. “I’m just afraid you wouldn’t like being here while I was giving lessons.”

The misery in Jaye’s expression ebbed, but only slightly. “I wouldn’t be bored. I could watch TV or play games on your computer.”

“Or, better yet, read and do homework,” Connor added. To Abby, he said, “What do you say? Are you willing to give it a shot?”

A part of him knew he was being unfair to Abby by putting her on the spot, but a bigger part wanted her to agree. Because then not only would Jaye get to see Abby more often, he would, too.

Jaye held her body tautly, with her shoulders hunched, as though expecting a blow. It couldn’t be more clear that she expected to be rejected.

Abby realized it, too. Connor could tell by the way her mouth softened while she regarded the child.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s give it a try.”

“Do you mean it?” Jaye’s voice held a mixture of hope and suspicion.

“I mean it,” Abby said. “I’m only at your school one day a week, but the rest of the time I’m across the street at the middle school. I’ll collect you at three and bring you here. Your uncle can pick you up when he gets off work.”

Jaye’s face creased into a rare smile. She jumped to her feet and scampered the rest of the way down the stairs, not stopping until she flung her arms around Abby’s waist.

Abby stroked the girl’s hair, exchanging a look with Connor above Jaye’s head.

He smiled at her, more sure than ever that she was a woman he wanted in both of their lives.