Название: Mistletoe Reunion
Автор: Anna Schmidt
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon Love Inspired
isbn: 9781408963524
isbn:
“So how come the two of you couldn’t figure it out together?”
“Timing—meant to be.” Norah tossed off clichés as she searched for an answer that would end the conversation. The older Isabella got, the harder that challenge became.
“Yeah, so Dad took off for San Francisco like opening a branch law office there was a good idea or something,” Isabella said wearily, “and you stayed in the desert because working on the reservation was somehow so important.” She frowned. “So will one of you please explain how doing what you wanted was best for me?”
“Trust me. It was. We’ve remained friends—your father and I—not like some couples.”
“Friends see each other now and then. When’s the last time you actually saw Daddy? Not talked on the phone, but were face-to-face?”
“It just hasn’t—that is—” Norah stumbled for words. Five years ago. She considered whether or not to tell Izzy that she remembered the exact moment she’d last seen Tom. He’d been walking away from her to get in a cab and head for California.
“Ooh—soft pretzels.” And Izzy was off. Obviously the moment had passed.
“For lunch?” Norah shifted her bag and hurried after her daughter.
“Mother! We’re on holiday. Live a little,” Isabella said hooking her arm through Norah’s and steering her toward the pretzel stand.
As soon as his plane touched down in Denver, Tom called Isabella’s cell phone. He wanted to be sure she’d let Norah know he was going to Normal for the holiday. Voice mail. Knowing his daughter, she had forgotten so just to be sure Norah got the message, Tom decided to call the house in Arizona.
He waited for the beep of the old-fashioned answering machine Norah still used even though Isabella had tried to persuade her that voice mail was ever so much more efficient. “But we have the machine and it’s paid for,” Norah had explained according to Izzy, “so why would I incur a monthly expense to switch to voice mail?”
Tom smiled as he recalled Bella’s growl of frustration at her mother’s well-known practicality and maddening logic. For his part he had always admired Norah’s determination not to jump on the technology bandwagon, although he couldn’t help believing that as time went by and technology continued to advance, it was at least partly her stubbornness that had made her avoid such conveniences. Norah could be very stubborn.
“Norah?” he said when he realized the beep had sounded. “Tom here.” Like she wouldn’t recognize your voice? “In case Bella forgot to pass the message, just letting you know—well, Clare called and you know my sister. She had this brainstorm for us to celebrate Mom and Dad’s fiftieth this weekend instead of for their actual anniversary in January, so I’ll be in Wisconsin if you need to reach me. I’ll be back late Sunday night. Bella was a little vague on your plans for the holiday, but I hope it’s a good one.” As always when he left messages for her, he paused. It seemed as if he wanted to say something more, but in five years he had not been able to figure out what. “Bye,” he added quickly and hung up.
He picked up messages his assistant had left him as he walked to his connecting gate, then called back to answer her questions. The plane from California had spent several precious minutes circling the airport and now he just hoped he wouldn’t miss the flight to Chicago.
As he hung up, the gate was in sight and packed with people waiting. He scanned the rows of chairs for a place to drop his luggage and spotted an empty one right next to a girl waving wildly at him.
Bella? Here? In Denver?
“Dad!” Isabella stood on the chair. “Dad! Over here.”
Tom eased his way through the disorganized parade of people, his smile meeting Isabella’s while his eyes searched for Norah.
“Dad,” Isabella cried for the third time as she catapulted her way into his arms. “Surprise! How cool is this?”
Tom laughed and eased his daughter back to a standing position. “What are you doing here?” He glanced around again. “Where’s your mother?”
“Bathroom. She is going to seriously freak,” Isabella predicted.
“Where are you two headed?” Tom was pretty sure he knew. Norah rarely took time off and when she did, it was to go to Wisconsin to see her parents.
“To see the grands.” The response was muffled and Isabella was looking somewhere over his left shoulder.
“Bella, you didn’t tell your mom that I was also going to Normal?”
Isabella had the good sense to look slightly abashed. “I kind of forgot.”
Tom raised his eyebrows.
“Look at it this way—now we can all celebrate Thanksgiving and the anniversary together. How cool is that?”
“What do you think your mom will have to say about this?”
Isabella’s expression tightened and she sighed dramatically. “Did it ever occur to you guys that the longer you keep up this thing of never seeing each other like up close and personal, the harder it’s going to be when it actually happens?”
Tom considered the best response to that, but Isabella was on a roll.
“I mean the very fact that neither one of you has found someone new should prove something,” she added. “Like maybe splitting up was a mistake of astronomical proportions?”
“I thought you said your mom was dating.”
“Well, she didn’t join a convent after you two split, Dad.” Isabella rolled her eyes at him. “And you haven’t exactly been without your share of female companionship. What was the last one’s name? Tabitha?” she added.
“Tamara,” he corrected, “and she was—is a business associate.”
“Whatever. She’s a lot younger than you. What was that about?”
“We work together on various projects. Her age has nothing to do with it.”
Isabella’s smirk said she was not convinced. “You want to know what I think?”
“Why do I feel you’re going to tell me whether I want to know or not?”
“I think that you and mom both miss each other, but you’re both too stubborn to admit it and try again. That’s why you’ve spent the last five years finding ways not to see each other.”
“Bella, it’s been a long time,” Tom explained, hating the fact that he was throwing cold water on her hope for a reconciliation. “We’re different people now.”
“Ya think?” she said with a dramatic sigh as if grown-ups were just dumber than dirt. “Okay. I didn’t forget,” she admitted, casting her eyes heavenward. “Forgive me,” she whispered, then turned her attention back to her father.
On the occasion of her twelfth birthday Isabella had joined the church and her passion for СКАЧАТЬ