It's Never too Late - By Tara Taylor Quinn Page 0,66
mountain. One of the ladies who visited this week told her about it. Apparently the views on the way up are incredible.” There was no enthusiasm in his tone.
Or on his face, either.
“It will be good for her to get out.”
“You want to come along?”
“I have homework to do here.” She motioned toward the laptop.
“If I hadn’t told you that Ella was pregnant would you have come?”
Honesty, Adele. “Yes.”
He dropped to the edge of her sofa, legs spread, elbows on his knees and hands clasped.
“I have to ask you something.”
“Okay.” Addy sat, too. In the chair perpendicular to him. She couldn’t get too close to him. “If Nonnie’s blood pressure hadn’t dropped, if we’d gone out that night, would you have made love with me?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t take sex lightly.”
“No.”
“It’s logical to conclude, then, that I mean something to you.”
“Yes.”
He looked at her. She looked back. His struggle was palpable. And she knew what she had to do.
“It wouldn’t have gone anywhere, Mark. Even if we’d made love...”
“I know you think that, but—”
Shaking her head, she cut him off. “I don’t just think it. I know it.”
His grin had her wanting to crawl into his lap and make the world go away. Forever if she could.
A day alone with Mark, becoming one with him, might be worth giving up a lifetime of what she had to go back to in Colorado.
Or Shelter Valley was getting to her worse than she knew. She wasn’t herself. Maybe her all-consuming attraction to this man was nothing more than a grown-up reaction to the memories the place stirred up. Memories of feeling alone and scared and clingy.
“You’ve got at least four years in Shelter Valley, Mark. I can’t stay here.”
“I know you talked about money issues...”
“There’s that and...this whole small-town thing. I miss the city.” It was lame, but it was the best she could do without jeopardizing her cover. She couldn’t have him thinking, even for a second, that Adele Kennedy would be around long-term.
Especially now that he had Ella’s situation to deal with, life decisions of his own to make.
“I’ll be staying until the end of the semester, but that’s it,” she said, meaning every word. One semester of classes was enough to give her an idea about how various students were regarded and treated. She’d stay up all night for as many nights as it took to get through all the records and files and paperwork.
And then she had to get out of town before she lost every part of herself.
* * *
MARK SAT IN Addy’s living room, feeling her words as though they were nails in his coffin.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes wide and moist.
“It’s not as if I’m free, anyway.” He said the words aloud. Having just come off the second worst night of his life—the first being the night after he’d learned about Nonnie’s MS—he was prepared to face what he had to do.
“You’ve talked to Ella, then? Decided to marry her?” Addy’s voice was calm, collected.
“I haven’t talked to her, no. But I know that if she’s carrying my child, I will do what’s right by her. And the baby.”
“What’s right and marriage are not necessarily synonymous.”
In Bierly they were.
“You said ‘if.’ You think there’s a chance she’s lying to you?”
“Yeah. But I don’t put a lot of stock in the chance. More like wishful thinking.”
“More like you’re trying to save yourself from making the biggest mistake of your life.”
“I’m being greedy. Wanting more than I’ve been given.”
“It’s human nature to want more. Healthy to want more. It’s what keeps us working hard, contributing to society. Wanting more motivates us to get up every morning and do everything we can do to achieve our goals.”
“One of the first things I do in the morning when I get up is shave. That requires looking in the mirror.” He grinned at her. And wondered how he could be feeling so low and enjoying the moment at the same time.
Addy sat down on the other end of the couch. Close enough to touch.
“I paid a heavy price for my self-respect,” he told her. “I don’t negotiate with it.”
“Paid how?”
“When I first realized I was going to have to quit school to take care of Nonnie because her care was going to require more money than we had and I was going to have to go to work full-time, I was angry. Bitter.”
“Both understandable emotions. You were a sixteen-year-old kid with the world on your shoulders while most kids were worrying