Her tears flowed unchecked and she buried her face in her hands. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten into all this now. You’re supposed to be recovering.”
She felt her father’s hand stroke her hair. At first the touch was so light, she thought she must have imagined it.
“I had no idea,” he whispered in a choked voice. “None. I was so lost in my own pain, I never gave a thought to what I was doing to you or your mother.”
Sensing that there was an opening that might not happen again, she lifted her gaze to his. “Dad, will you do something for me, just one thing?”
“Anything.”
“Tell the doctor how you’ve been feeling since Ben died, let him help you.”
His gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Help me how?”
“I’m not sure what he’ll recommend,” she admitted.
“But whatever it is, I want you to promise me you’ll do it. Not just for my sake, but for yours. Promise me, okay?”
Stubbornness and pride settled on his face and for what seemed like an eternity, she thought he was going to balk, but then he stroked her hair again and his expression turned sad. “I’ll talk to him,” he told her.
It was a concession, but she needed more. This was too important for half measures. “And listen to what he says?”
she prodded.
He turned away from her, reaching for the pitcher of water on the stand beside his bed. He poured it with a hand that shook.
“Dad,” she said. “Please.”
He took a sip of water, then frowned at her. “You going to pester me till I say yes?”
“I am,” she said.
“Okay, then, I’ll listen,” he said.
This time she was the one filled with suspicion. She sensed she’d inadvertently left a loophole in there. “Let me rephrase,” she said, her heart suddenly lighter. “You’ll do what he says.”
“I’ll listen,” he repeated.
“Daddy!”
“Okay,” he said at last. “For you I’ll follow his advice.”
She leaned down and rested her head on his chest.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
His arms came around her in an awkward embrace. “I love you, sweetheart. I really do. And I am so sorry for not having said that nearly enough.”
“You said it now,” she whispered, her heart full.
18
Tom was worried sick about Jeanette. She’d sounded more and more exhausted each time he spoke to her, but to his relief she was finally coming home today, this time for good. She’d made it home for a few hours on Thanksgiving, but had returned almost at once to Charleston to oversee her father’s rehab until he was recovering to her satisfaction both physically and emotionally. Maddie had gone to pick her up this morning because he couldn’t get away. Howard wanted the whole committee on the town square while the Christmas decorations were being put into place, even though the work was being done by town employees under Ronnie’s supervision.
“I’ve never decorated a tree in my life,” Tom had protested in a vain attempt to get out of standing around observing. “Much less installed snowflakes on light poles.”
His words fell on deaf ears.
“You lived in a house that was on the holiday tour every year in Charleston,” Howard had reminded him. “I saw pictures of it in the paper. Some of that expertise must have rubbed off.”
“It didn’t,” Tom had said.
“What if there’s some sort of crisis or a problem crops up? As town manager, it’s your duty to be there tomorrow to deal with it, and that’s that,” Howard had said. “The tree’s being delivered first thing in the morning. I want you on the square when it’s unloaded.”
Which was why Tom was standing outside at 7:00 a.m. on an unseasonably cold morning that felt more like New York than South Carolina. He could see his breath in the air and not even his thickest sweater and heavy coat could keep the chill out of his bones. Ronnie, thank heaven, had brought a huge Thermos of coffee from Sullivan’s, which was helping somewhat. Erik had gone in early to brew it for them.
“Do you look so miserable because you don’t want to be here, because you’re cold or because you’re missing Jeanette?” Ronnie asked as the tree was hoisted off the truck and into place in the center of the square. As its webbing was cut away, the branches spread out in all their fullness. It was impressive, no question about it. It wasn’t the tree at Rockefeller Center or the White House, but it wouldn’t fit inside any building in town, that’s for sure.
“All of the above,” Tom said. “I’m the one who should be picking Jeanette up this morning.”
“Maddie’s capable of bringing her home safely.”
“Not the point,” Tom muttered.
Ronnie grinned. “You hoping to score more points? I have it on good authority that your balance is already pretty high.”
Tom frowned. “Also, not the point.”
“Exactly how long has it been since you laid eyes on her?”
“Four days,” Tom admitted. “I ran over to the rehab center a couple of days after Thanksgiving, but since then Howard’s had me jumping through hoops. You’d think Christmas in Serenity depended on me single-handedly overseeing every detail. You’d think he’d care more about whether the potholes are filled or the bridge is going to fall down.”
“You’re the town manager,” Ronnie reminded him with an amused expression. “He has you to worry about all of those things…and this.”
Tom ignored the comment and focused on the huge tree, which was wobbling precariously. “How the devil are they planning to anchor that thing securely? I can see our liability rates soaring if it falls over and crushes a bunch of kids.”
“Now, there’s a cheery thought,” Ronnie said. “You’re just what every holiday celebration needs—a genuine Ebenezer Scrooge.”
“Believe me, you, Howard and Mary Vaughn more than make up for it. Someone needs to be practical.”
Ronnie didn’t even try to hide his amusement. “This from the man who dug into his own pocket just to get a Christmas tree that Jeanette had her heart set on.”
Tom frowned. “How did you find out about that?”
“Teresa told me you wrote a personal check to the tree farmer when the bill came in.”
“That woman has a big mouth. I should fire her.”
“But you won’t,” Ronnie predicted. “She’s too good at her job.”
“True,” Tom conceded just as his cell phone rang. He glanced at caller ID and saw Jeanette’s number. He felt his shoulders relax for the first time all morning. “Hey,” he said softly. “You on your way home?”
“Maddie’s picking me up in a few minutes. I should be there in an hour or so.”
“Want to have lunch?”
“I should probably go straight to work.”
“Not before you eat,” he said. “I know you haven’t been eating properly since you’ve been hanging around the hospital and I doubt that improved after you got your dad settled in rehab.”
“I ate every bit of food you brought me,” she said.
“One meal every few days, that’s hardly saying much. We’ll go to Sullivan’s and let Dana Sue fuss over you.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be supervising the installation of the Christmas decorations?”
“Even a prisoner gets a lunch break,” he said. “But come to the square when you get to town. You can chime in with your two cents’ on everything that’s happening. I might as well hear one more opinion.”
“Is the tree there?”
“Wobbling around as we speak,” he confirmed.
“Is it beautiful?” she asked, her voice suddenly soft and wistful.
“It’s the perfect tree,” Tom said. “You need to see it for yourself.”
“I’ll be there soon.”
Tom flipped his phone closed, then caught the smug expression on Ronnie’s face. “What?” he demanded.
“You are such a goner,” Ronnie said. “You’ve been grumbling from the minute you got here, but less than two minutes on the phone with Jeanette and you go all mushy.”
“I did not go mushy,” Tom protested.
“Mushy,” Ronnie repeated, then grinned. “It’s a wonderful thing to see. You’ve officially joined the club.”
“The club?”
“Men Who Love the Sweet Magnolias,” Ronnie said.
“It’s an exclusive group. Damn lucky, too.”
Tom thought about the way Jeanette made him feel. Maybe he had gone a little mushy, after all. To be perfectly honest and much to his amazement, it wasn’t all bad. Dana Sue was hovering over Jeanette as if she’d been gone for a year, rather than the better part of three weeks. Even though Jeanette had ordered only a salad, Dana Sue had brought out meat loaf and mashed potatoes, as well, and insisted that she eat every bite.
“You’ve lost weight you couldn’t afford to lose,” Dana Sue said. “I know since dealing with Annie’s anorexia I’m a little compulsive about people’s eating habits, but you’ll float away on a stiff breeze without a little more meat on your bones.”
Jeanette squeezed her hand sympathetically. They all knew what she’d gone through with her daughter, but happily Annie was now away at college and had her eating disorder under control. They were certain of it, because her dorm counselors had been alerted to keep an eagle eye out for her and Dana Sue checked in with them regularly. Annie knew she was being watched and, though she’d grumbled about the invasion of privacy, she also understood why it was necessary—for her health and for her mom and dad’s peace of mind.
“Dana Sue, stop worrying. I just missed a few meals,”
Jeanette reassured her. “I’ll put the weight back on in no time, now that I’m getting back into my routine.”
“I intend to see to that,” Tom said.
Dana Sue beamed at him. “Good. Now, I’m going to see if Erik has that apple pie out of the oven. If it’s ready, I’m bringing you a slice with ice cream on top.”
“Dana Sue, I can’t eat another bite,” Jeanette protested.
“Tom will help, won’t you?” Dana Sue said to him.
“Absolutely.”
Dana Sue headed for the kitchen and Jeanette turned to Tom. “Why did you agree to that? I don’t think I can swallow anything else.”
“Do you want her worrying about you?”
“No.”
“Or me, for that matter. I have a town to decorate. I can’t be worrying that you’re about to be lifted up by a breeze and blown to the next county.”
“I’ve hardly lost that much weight,” she said in exasperation. He touched a finger to her cheek. “Not quite, but close,”
he insisted, his expression solemn. “I’ve missed you. I’m glad you’re back.”
She swallowed hard under his intense gaze. “I’m glad to be back.”
“Things going okay with your father at rehab?”
“He hadn’t bolted as of this morning, but that’s about all I can say. He’s still not happy about being there.”
“How are things between the two of you and between you and your mother?”
“Better,” she said. “The doctor actually convinced my dad to try an antidepressant. You would have thought he was being forced to swallow poison, but he did it. It’s too soon to tell if it will make a real difference, but I have my fingers crossed. The doctor said they might have to try more than one medication to find the best one for my dad.” She shook her head. “To think that we wasted all this time when he could have gotten help. I guess neither my mother nor I realized that his grief had crossed the line into depression.”
“You were just a kid when this started,” Tom reminded her. “And recently you haven’t been around. As for your mother, I suspect she’s not the first person who didn’t know how to handle depression in a loved one, especially when it was much easier to blame it all on grief. That was something she could relate to because she was going through it herself.”
Jeanette smiled at his defense of her mother. “She liked you, you know. I could tell. She admired the way you showed up with food and stayed with me.” She wasn’t putting her own spin on her mother’s reaction, either. They’d talked about Tom after most of his visits. She gave him a sideways glance. “She says you’re a keeper.”
He grinned. “Really? How about you? What do you think?”
“I think I’ve missed you a lot more than I expected to,”
she said, her gaze locked with his. “A lot more.”
He regarded her hesitantly. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Just how much are we talking about?”
She kept her gaze steady, then said boldly, “You haven’t kissed me yet.”
“Easily corrected,” he assured her, clasping her head and covering her mouth with his.
What began as a soft, tender kiss quickly escalated into a duel of tongues and gasping breath.
“Holy…” he murmured, breaking away, his expression dazed. “What’s gotten into you?”
Her lips curved. “You, I think.”
His cell phone rang, but he ignored it.
“Don’t you think you ought to get that?” she said, amused by his unfocused gaze.
“You’re propositioning me,” he began, then looked at her hopefully. “At least I think you are.”
“I am.”
“And you want me to answer my phone?”
“It’s the responsible thing to do,” she reminded him.
“You are the town manager and today you’re in charge of Christmas. That’s very important stuff.”