Darlene Gardner - A Time To Come Home

He was dressed as though he’d come from the brokerage firm, in a navy silk tie, a long-sleeved blue dress shirt and dark, tailored slacks. But his resemblance to a cool, collected stockbroker ended there.

“I don’t know whether to hug you or yell at you,” he said in a low-throated, angry growl. “My P.I. told me you quit your job and moved out of your apartment. Where in the hell have you been?”

She tilted her head. “You’re still using that private eye?”

“Off and on. I need someone to tell me what you’re up to. You certainly won’t. Do you know how worried I’ve been about you?”

She gazed into her lap and fought tears. She’d been on her own for so long it hadn’t occurred to her that he’d worry. “I’m sorry,” she said without raising her head. “I should have let you know I was moving.”

“Hell, yeah, you should have. You should return my phone messages, too,” he said gruffly, his voice thickened by emotion. “You didn’t even call after I told you about Drew Galloway being denied parole.”

The date Galloway could have gained his freedom seared into her memory, Diana had discovered the outcome of the parole hearing before she received Connor’s message. But her throat had swelled at the mention of her brother’s killer, so she didn’t tell Connor that.

Connor heaved a sigh and ran a hand over his forehead. “It must be a hundred degrees in this car. Come into the house so we can talk where it’s cooler.”

“No.” She punctuated her comment with a firm shake of her head. “I can’t come in.”

“Want to tell me why not?”

In a softer voice, Diana said, “Jaye’s in there.”

“Isn’t Jaye the reason you’re here?”

She nodded. “Yes. But only to see her, not to talk to her.”

“What?” The word erupted from him, like lava from a volcano. “My God, Diana. I was planning to fly to Nashville next week to talk some sense into you. You haven’t had any contact with her since you discarded her.”

Guilt, her constant companion, slithered through Diana before she reminded herself of her reasons. “I didn’t discard her. I left her with you.”

He shifted in his seat, turning more fully toward her. “A bachelor with no experience taking care of a child.”

“The best man I know. And I was right to do it. I saw her just now. She looks happy, Connor. You’ve done a wonderful job.” She dug into her purse and removed an envelope containing cash she’d managed to set aside from her two jobs. “I was going to mail this to you. It’s not much, certainly not enough, but I’ll never be able to repay you for all you’ve done.”

His lips thinned, a manifestation of the stubborn streak he’d developed way back in childhood. “I’m not taking your money, Diana. If you really want to repay me, come inside and talk to your daughter. Spend the weekend with us. We’re driving to the Maryland shore tomorrow.”

“You don’t know how much I’d like to but I can’t.” She swallowed, then stared at him, silently pleading for understanding. “But I will talk to her. Just as soon as I get my life organized.”

“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing for the past six months?”

“It’s what I’ve been trying to do.” After a brief stay at a detox center, she’d run short of cash to pay for treatment and stayed off the pills through sheer strength of will. The withdrawal symptoms had lingered for months, but she’d managed to secure a secretarial position and then work a second job as a waitress. “But I can’t see Jaye. Not yet.”

“Why?” His eyes seemed to bore into her, where her secrets lay buried. “What is it that you’re not telling me? Are you sick? On drugs? Is that what this is all about?”

Shame billowed inside Diana, the same humiliation that had engulfed her when she’d attended the Narcotics Anonymous meetings. She hadn’t been able to own up to her addiction in a room full of strangers. Admitting to her problem was downright impossible in front of her strong, self-assured brother.

“I’m not on drugs,” she said. Not now. And hopefully not ever again . “But this isn’t about me. It’s about Jaye. It’s a lot to ask, but I need you to keep her a while longer.”

She read resistance on his face, and the enormity of what she’d done struck her. “Oh, my Lord. It didn’t even occur to me that you might not want her.”

“Not want her?” He made a harsh sound. “I love her like she’s my own daughter. Abby loves her, too.”

Relief caused Diana’s limbs to feel boneless. “Abby? Is she the woman I saw with Jaye?”

He nodded. “Yeah. She’s Jaye’s violin teacher. We’re also getting married in October. I would have told you about her if I could ever get you on the phone.”

“Congratulations,” Diana said in a small voice, ashamed she hadn’t known about this major development in her brother’s life. She sensed he was about to say something else about his fiancée, then heard herself speaking her next thought aloud. “I didn’t know Jaye played the violin.”

“That’s my point, Diana. You’ve missed too much of Jaye’s life already. Abby and I are happy to take care of her, but she’s your daughter. You need to be in her life.”

“I can’t,” Diana said miserably. “Not yet.”

“You still haven’t given me a good reason why not.” He practically spit out the words.

Because I’m afraid .

The words imprinted themselves on Diana’s mind, but she felt too raw to admit her fear to Connor. He’d always been the strong one in their family, the one who followed the straight and narrow path and never disappointed anyone. He’d never find himself in her situation.

“I want her back so much it hurts. You’ve got to believe that. And I have a plan to get her back. But I can’t face her until I know everything will work out. I’ll call her. I will. Just as soon as I settle in.”

“Settle in where? What’s this plan you’re talking about?”

“I enrolled in a career training program in Gaithersburg. I’m going to study business administration. I also lined up a waitressing job. And I have a lead on an apartment, too.”

She deliberately left out the most difficult part of the plan, the piece that involved Tyler Benton.

“In Gaithersburg?” His eyebrows drew together. “I can’t figure you out, Diana. That’s not even twenty miles from here and only thirty from Bentonsville.”

“Thirty miles can be a long way.”

“So you’re not planning to visit Mom?”

Unwilling to confide she had a more important visit to make, she dodged the question. “I’m not moving to Gaithersburg because it’s close to Bentonsville. I’m moving there because it’s close to Jaye.”

He was quiet for long moments, then said, “You’ll call and leave a number where I can reach you?”

“I will.” She sensed that he didn’t believe her. “I promise.”

“What am I supposed to tell your daughter in the meantime?”

Making a snap decision, Diana again reached into her purse, this time pulling out a sealed envelope she’d planned to mail when she got to Gaithersburg.

She extended the envelope to him, her fingers shaking slightly. “Could you give this to Jaye? But don’t tell her you saw me. It already has a stamp, so she’ll assume I mailed it.”

He took her offering, his expression grave. “Are you sure about this, Diana?”

The lump that hadn’t been far from her throat since she pulled into the neighborhood formed with a vengeance. “I’m not sure of anything.”

Least of all the portion of her plan that would enable her to set the rest in motion. Nobody knew better than Diana what a struggle raising a child alone could be, but there was no longer any reason for her to be solely responsible for Jaye.