Lois Richer - A Ring and a Promise

Her legs weakened and she had to sit down for a minute to regain her equanimity.

So Donovan was back.

“So you avoid him. Keep yourself busy and away from him. He’s probably here for only a month or two, anyway. Donovan never sticks to anything anyway.” At least not the Donovan she remembered.

For his first week at work, Donovan stuck to his office, familiarizing himself with everything about Weddings by Woodwards. Wednesday night he stayed late, poring over the ad campaigns the company had used in the past.

Puzzled by something he read, Donovan was doing a survey of the sales floor when he saw a light shining in a back room. He checked it out and then wished he’d stayed upstairs.

Abby was hunched over a table, her face determined as she twisted one of the ring’s claws tighter.

“It must be tough to find the spare time to do what you love.”

“That’s life.” Abby ignored him.

“Tell me more about this contest.” He poked his finger at the fake stone.

“It’s for jewelry designers across America who want to reach a broader audience with new designs.”

“Meaning the chichi moneyed set?” he pressed on, determined to get rid of the tension between them.

“Meaning people who know jewelry,” Abby substituted. “The kind of people I want to know better. In New York.”

Donovan detested the snappish self-righteous tone in her voice. He was the good guy here. Five years ago, he’d given her the chance to pursue her dreams.

“You never let anything stand in the way of your goals, do you, Abby?”

“What does that mean?” she demanded, her forehead pleated in a fierce frown. “Do you?”

Donovan sighed. What was he doing—trying to make her admit he’d been right to leave?

“Grandmother says your designs are hot at Woodwards.”

“Sales have been going well.” She set the ring down before facing him. “Why are you back, Donovan? Are you suddenly interested in the family’s wedding planning business?”

Do not take offense, he ordered himself.

“It was time.”

“Why now?”

“Grandmother wants a new marketing campaign that will spread the company logo across the country. Something young and hip,” he explained. “If the Chicago store goes well, she thinks she might start another on the East Coast, provided I can up our brand recognition to national status. I’m to get to work and earn my keep.”

“Oh. No one told me about another store, but then, why would they?”

Donovan winced at the hint that even though Abby had always been like one of the Woodward family when they were dating, there was no reason for them to consider her as part of their inner circle since he’d left. He hadn’t considered how that might impact her.

“I heard you were working with one of Winifred’s contacts in Paris and enjoying it,” she said.

Unasked question: Why leave now?

“I had some changes in my life,” he said. “I thought maybe you’d heard.”

“Heard what?”

“I brought someone home with me.”

“Oh.”

“Her name is Ariane.”

Something flickered through Abby’s expressive eyes, but it was gone so fast he couldn’t decipher it.

“She’s seven.”

“Seven?” Abby blinked.

“I’m her godfather.” He saw her disbelief. “Improbable as that may sound, it’s the truth.”

“I see.” Abby kept staring at him.

“She is the daughter of my very best friend. George’s death was a shock to all of us.” It still hurt to think of that vibrant man silenced in a boating accident. “Ariane’s mother died of cancer when she was two. There was no other family. I couldn’t leave her a ward of the state. Besides, I’d promised George that I would take care of her.”

He paused, collecting his emotions from those horrible weeks.

“I’m very sorry.” At least Abby sounded genuine.

“I just wanted you to know. You never seemed like the motherly type, so you probably can’t understand my actions, but I knew if I could bring Ariane home, then the family would help her.”

“That was very generous of you.”

Abby had closed him out. She said the right words, but her heart wasn’t in them. She just wasn’t interested. Her focus was on her ring.

Like that was unusual. Jewelry had always come first with Abby.

She was packing away her tools.

“Donovan, I’ve got to go. There are a thousand things on my plate and I’m way past the time I’d allotted for working tonight. Maybe we can talk more another day?”

“Sure.” He nodded, watching as she locked her project in a small personal safe near her desk. “Sorry I bothered you.”

She didn’t say anything and he wondered if she’d even heard. But after a moment she turned, smiling at him.

“Sorry. I had an idea for the contest.”

“Totally career focused, as usual.” He didn’t bother to mask the disparaging tone lacing his words. “It really matters that much to you?”

“Yes, my career matters to me. Just as much as yours does to you,” she said, defiant in her own defense. “One way or another, I intend to get my chance in New York.”

“I’m sure you will.” Irritation chased confusion and a hint of hurt. What had he expected?

“Because you’ll be working here, I guess I’ll see you around,” she said as she flung on her coat. “Will you lock up?”

“I’m leaving now, too. I must get back to Grandmother’s. Ariane and I are staying there, for now.”

“Oh.” Abby trailed behind him to the back door and set the security alarm. But outside, standing on the step, she hesitated.

Donovan didn’t know why, so he waited.

“Does it seem weird to be back?” she whispered.

“It seems right,” he answered just as quietly. “God used George’s death to remind me of how much I need my family and their love and support in my life. Especially now that I’m to care for Ari.” He paused to study her. “I hope you can understand that, Abby.”

“Understand that family matters? Of course I understand that. Or are you trying to tell me that you’re not interested in picking up where we left off five years ago?” Her smile was hard and forced. “Believe me, Donovan, neither am I.”

He was making matters worse. Donovan wished he’d never left his office.

“My family is very important to me,” he said.

Abby jumped on that.

“So is mine. I might not have the family support that you have, Donovan, but the past five years have taught me one thing.” Sparks flew from Abby’s hazel eyes.

Donovan opened his mouth, but didn’t get a chance to speak.

“If I’m going to get to New York, I’m going to have to do it on my own. Alone.”

With that she walked away into the night.

Abby’s words helped Donovan decide his course of action.

He would avoid her as much as possible while he figured out how to do his job and be a father to Ariane. Maybe later, somewhere along the way, he’d figure out a way to breach the chasm between them without getting caught up in the past.

It was a fine decision.

Unfortunately, his grandmother blew it out of the water on Thursday evening when she called him into the living room after he’d tucked in Ariane.

“Sit down, dear. I made some coffee.”

“You’re not supposed to be drinking coffee.” He shook his head at her. “And don’t say it’s for me. I don’t drink coffee this late at night.”

“I’m allowed this much.” Winifred liberally laced her half cup with cream. “Have you settled in? Ariane’s all right?”

“We’re fine, Grandmother. Thank you for hosting us.” She had something on her mind. He could see it in the sparks lighting her eyes. “I hope we’re not putting you out too much.”