The Heart Remembers (16 page)

“It's the same ring, Maggie. I kept it all these years. I never knew why—until I came to Maine and found you again.”

Maggie's voice was thick with unshed tears, and a sob caught in her throat when she spoke. “Jake, I…I don't know what to…”

He reached over and placed a gentle fingertip against her lips. “I'm asking you to marry me, Maggie. But I'm not asking you for an answer right now. In fact, I don't want one tonight. Because
whatever you decide, I want you to be absolutely sure. No second thoughts, no regrets. All I'm asking is that you take the ring with you to Europe, as a reminder of my love. Think about my proposal. Give yourself time. And then, when you get back, we'll talk about it again.”

Maggie's mind was whirling. This was the Christmas present she'd anticipated with such joy at Thanksgiving. Now…now it left her confused and uncertain—yet filled with a sudden, buoyant hope.

But there was still a major unresolved issue between them that had nothing to do with their recent falling-out.

“What about the…family issue. I haven't changed my mind on that.”

He looked at her steadily. “But I have. I've given it a lot of thought. And bottom line, while I'd like to have children, if it comes down to a choice between you and a family, there's no contest. I love you, and that's enough for me. Anything else would be a bonus. Whatever you decide is fine with me.”

His concession seemed too good to be true.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation in his response. “It's not hard to make compromises when you love someone as much as I love you. Besides, I don't come without strings, either.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Think about it, Maggie. I'll bring an aging parent to this union. A lot of women wouldn't want to take that on. You faced marriage once before saddled with a pretty overwhelming responsibility. In a way, you will again.”

Maggie smiled and shook her head. “Jake, I love Pop. I don't consider him a burden in any way. In fact, before…well, before we had this problem, I was thinking down the road that maybe if things…well…progressed between us, we might want to live here. And we could turn the little guest cottage into a place for your dad. That way he'd be close by, but still have a sense of independence.”

He shook his head, and his own eyes took on a suspicious sheen. “You are one special woman, Maggie Fitzgerald.”

Standing, he reached down and pulled her to her feet. “Will you take the ring, Maggie?” Jake finally asked, his voice rough with emotion. “Not as a commitment—but as a reminder of my love?”

“Yes.” Her voice was a mere whisper, and she clutched the small velvet box to her chest. “You know, I…I almost wish I wasn't going now.”

Jake shook his head firmly. “Don't feel that way. Savor every minute of this experience. You owe that to yourself after all these years. And I'll be here when you get back.”

“I'll…I'll miss you, Jake.”

He reached for her, pulling her fiercely against him as he buried his face in her hair. Then, he backed up slightly and gazed down into her eyes. Cupping the back of her head, he bent down and gently, tenderly claimed her lips.

Maggie responded willingly, knowing that this moment would be a memory to take with her, to hold in her heart, during the long, solitary months ahead. His lips, warm and lingering, moved over hers, seeking, tasting, reigniting the flames of desire that had smoldered in her heart these last few weeks.

All too soon, with evident reluctance, he drew back. The smile he gave her seemed forced, and his voice sounded strained. “I'd better go.”

Several more moments passed before he released her, however, and when he did it was with obvious effort. She followed him to the hall, watched silently as he shrugged into his coat, walked beside him to the door. He turned there, reaching out once more to touch her face, his gaze locked on hers.

“Bon voyage, Maggie. Think of me.”

And then he was gone.

Maggie knew that Jake was doing the right thing, the noble thing, giving her time to sort through her feelings and be sure of her decision. But for just a moment, she was tempted to throw caution to the
wind, fling open the door and run into his arms. It was what her heart told her to do. Then again, her heart had led her astray before.

And so, with a decisive click she locked the door and turned back to the living room. She would take the time he'd offered her to think things through. It was the wise thing to do.

But it wouldn't be easy.

J
ake smiled as he read Maggie's account of her adventures at the Trevi Fountain in Rome. He wasn't surprised that several local Romeos had tried to pick her up. She might be nearing forty, but she was still one gorgeous woman.

“Good news from Maggie?” His father set a mug in front of Jake. They had gotten into the habit of sharing hot chocolate—and some conversation—each evening before going to bed.

Jake chuckled. “Seems the Italians are a good judge of beauty after all.”

Howard raised his eyebrows. “Oh? Are they asking her for dates?”

Jake smiled. “Mmm-hmm. But she's holding her own. Sounds like she's having a wonderful time. The art classes are going well, and she says she's made some great strides with her painting.”

“Glad to hear it. But I'll sure be glad when she comes back. Seems kind of quiet around here without her.”

Jake's smile faded. “Yeah.”

“You never said much the night you went to say goodbye to her.” Howard took a sip of hot chocolate. “I don't want to pry, but…did you two work things out?”

Jake glanced down into his half-empty mug and sighed. “I don't know. But…well, I guess there's no reason to keep it a secret. I asked her to marry me.”

Howard's eyes widened in surprise. “You did? What did she say?”

“I didn't ask for an answer. All I asked her to do was think about it while she was gone, and let me know when she got back.”

Howard drained his cup in silence. Then he rose and paused by Jake's chair to place a hand on his shoulder. “Maggie will come around, son. You'll see. You're a good man, and she'll realize that in time.”

Jake watched his father walk toward the kitchen, his throat tightening with emotion. The future of his relationship with Maggie might still be uncertain, but at least he and his father had reconnected. His father had just touched him with affection for the first time in years. And he'd called him “a good man.” That small gesture, those few words, meant
more to Jake than all of his other accomplishments combined.

Now if only Maggie would come to the same conclusion.

 

Maggie tipped her face back to the sun and let out a contented sigh as Parisian street life bustled around her. Her fabulous European adventure was drawing to a close, but it had been everything she'd hoped. She felt steeped in great art, had soaked it up until her soul was satiated. And she'd learned so much. The classes had been tremendous, and she'd produced some of her best work on this trip, shipping it home to Philip as she completed it. His enthusiastic response had reaffirmed her opinion that she'd made great strides.

With only two weeks left in her sojourn, her thoughts were now beginning to turn to home, and she reached up to finger the ring that hung on a slender gold chain around her neck. Soon she would have to make her decision. Maggie knew, with absolute certainty, that she loved Jake. She also knew, with equal certainty, that she was afraid. So the question came down to this: Was she willing to take the risk that love entailed? To trust her heart to this man who had walked out on her once before? A man who she had come to believe was now capable of true commitment—but whose unexpected lapse had shaken her trust?

Maggie knew what the twins thought. They'd summed it up in three pithy words.
Go for it.
Philip had said much the same thing. And Maggie felt in her heart they were right. She knew that nothing good came without risk. Yet she was still afraid.

Maggie sighed and reached for the mail she'd just picked up. There was a letter from Jake, she noted, her lips curving up into a smile. He wrote almost every other day. And one from Pop. That was a surprise. Those would be letters to savor. So she put them aside and opened the large brown envelope from Philip, who sorted through her mail at home and passed on things that looked important. She peered inside and withdrew a small package with an unfamiliar New York return address. Curious, she tore off the brown wrapping to find a little box cocooned inside a letter. Quickly she scanned the single sheet of paper.

The letter was signed by a Reverend Thomas Wilson.

Maggie's eyes filled with tears as she removed the lid from the small box and gazed down at the two-part heart pendant nestled inside. She was deeply touched by Millicent's gift, for she knew that of all the woman's possessions, this was the one that meant the most to her. Perhaps in death she would at last find the reconciliation that had eluded her in life.

Wiping a hand across her eyes, Maggie reached next for Pop's letter. It was brief, and written very much in character.

Maggie smiled through her tears. Obviously Pop and Jake were getting along fine. Jake had told her he'd make it work, and he had. The undertone of affection in Pop's letter also confirmed the two of them were back on track.

And then she settled back in her chair and opened Jake's letter. His notes were typically chatty and warm as he filled her in on his daily life, making her feel that she was sitting next to him on the couch while he shared his day's adventures. But it was always the opening and closing that she reread several times. He never failed to remind her how much he missed her or that he was counting the days until her return. Though he never pressed for an answer to his proposal, she could sense hope—and anxiety—in every line. The closing of today's letter especially tugged at her heart.

Maggie's eyes grew misty again, and she drew in a long, unsteady breath. This was the most direct Jake had been about his feelings. Until now, his letters had been mostly lighthearted, written to make her smile, not cry. But now he was baring his soul, letting her know just how much her answer meant to him. It was a courageous thing to do, giving someone the power to hurt you that way. But it was honest. And from the heart. And it touched her at a soul-deep level.

Maggie pressed his letter to her heart as she extracted Millicent's pendant from the tiny box and cradled it in her hand. She thought about the gift of love Jake was offering her. And she thought about Millicent's sad story of love thrown away. She thought also about all that Jake had done in the
past few months to prove his steadfastness and his ability to honor a promise. How he had diligently cared for his father and painstakingly rebuilt that relationship. How he came to her aid when she was ill. How he stayed by her side at the hospital, and was there for her to lean on during the twins' emotional send-off to college. Since coming back into her life, he had never once failed to be there when she needed him.

All at once, the image of the painting she was just now completing came to mind. With a startling flash of insight, she realized that she had made her decision long ago, in the hills above Florence. She'd just been too afraid to admit it. But today's letters had brought everything into focus and banished her fear.

With a sudden, joyful lightening of her heart, Maggie gathered up her letters and headed back to her room.

 

Jake shoved his hands into his pockets and drew a long, unsteady breath. It had been three months since he'd said goodbye to Maggie. Three eternal, lonely months. She'd written regularly, but letters hadn't eased the ache in his heart, nor filled his days with joy and laughter and his nights with tenderness and love.

He sighed and reached up to loosen his tie as he gazed out into the night. Nothing had seemed
right without Maggie. The fear that she might reject his proposal when she returned, had plagued him, etching faint lines of worry at the corners of his eyes. And yet, he knew he had done the right thing. He'd given her the time she needed to be sure. Because he hadn't wanted her to commit to him unless she felt the same absolute certainty, trust and deep, abiding love for him that he felt for her.

Jake heard a door open and he turned slowly, his gaze softening into a smile as Maggie entered. She always looked beautiful to him, but never more so than right now, as she walked toward him resplendent in her wedding finery. He held her at arm's length for a moment when she joined him, memorizing every nuance of her appearance as she stood before him, more dazzling in her radiance than the illuminated Eiffel Tower visible behind her through the French doors on the balcony.

Her hair was drawn back on one side with a cluster of sweetheart roses and baby's breath, a miniature reflection of the bouquet she'd carried as they said their vows just hours before. Her tea-length white silk gown, subtly patterned to shimmer in the light, was simple but elegant, with slightly puffed sleeves and a sweetheart neckline. Around her neck she wore Millicent's heart pendant, the two halves seamlessly joined by the hands of a master jeweler.

Jake would never forget the expression of joy and certainty on her face as they'd exchanged their promises of love in the tiny chapel she'd reserved. Illuminated only by the mosaic of late-afternoon light as it filtered through the intricate stained-glass windows, with the fragrance of roses perfuming the air, it had been the perfect, intimate spot for them to make the commitment so long delayed.

“You look breathtaking.” Jake lifted a hand to touch her face. To reassure himself she was real.

She smiled, and a becoming blush rose in her cheeks. “Actually, I feel pretty breath
less.
”

He chuckled. “It has been a bit of a whirlwind, hasn't it?” Since her phone call a week ago, life had moved into high gear. Thankfully her call had coincided with Spring Break. But even if it hadn't, nothing could have kept him from her side.

“Everything happened so fast that I can hardly believe it's real.”

“You're not sorry, are you? Would you rather we had waited, been married at home?”

She smiled and shook her head. “No. We waited long enough. And once I decided, I was determined to have that Paris honeymoon after all. And now I have something to give you. Wait here.”

She extricated herself from his arms and disappeared into the bedroom of their suite. A few moments later she returned with a large package
wrapped in silver paper. As she held it out to him, he indicated two small packages with white bows on the coffee table that he'd retrieved in her absence.

“Looks like we both had the same idea.”

“I didn't expect a present, Jake. Not on such short notice.”

“I've had these for a long time, Maggie. They were just waiting for this moment.”

He sat on the couch and drew her down beside him, then tore off the shiny paper of his package to reveal an impressionistic painting of a man, woman and small child on a hillside picnic, visible only from the back, surrounded by a golden light. The man and woman were seated, and he had his arm around the child. He was pointing into the distance, and the woman's hand rested on the man's shoulder as she leaned close to him. A feeling of intrinsic love and serenity and unity pervaded the painting, making the viewer yearn to be part of the idyllic family scene.

Jake examined the exquisite painting silently, then drew a deep breath as he turned to his wife and shook his head in awe. “This is wonderful, Maggie! All of your work is excellent, but…well, this stands apart. You always paint from the heart, but this…it captures something, some essence, I've never seen before in your work.”

“It comes even more from the heart than you realize, Jake.”

Some nuance in her tone intrigued him. “What do you mean?”

“I thought a lot about us while I've been here. I knew from the beginning that I loved you. That was never a question. But I was so afraid of being hurt again. I just couldn't decide what to do.

“And then last week I was sitting at a sidewalk café, and I thought about this painting, which I started in Florence. Suddenly I realized I'd made my decision—about a couple of things—a long time ago.”

She drew a deep breath and looked at him, her gaze steady and certain. “That's us, Jake. You and me…and our child. I never even realized it until a few days ago. My heart's known for weeks what I wanted to do. It just took a little longer for the message to reach my mind.”

Carefully Jake set the painting down, then reached for her hand and searched her eyes.

“Are you sure? You're not doing this just because you know I want it?”

“Partly. But I'm doing it for me, too. I want to raise our child—together. I want part of us, what we have together, to live on. And I want to share our love with a child.”