A Time To Forgive

“Then we have a deal. When you send home that list, write down whatever night fits into your schedule.”

“Okay,” she said.

He nodded in agreement. It appeared as though he might say something else, but then he turned and walked away. She stared after him, rationalizing away the lingering disappointment.

She’d treated him unfairly so it was only logical for her to make amends. She’d done that by agreeing to adjust her teaching schedule in order to give Jaye private lessons.

Wishing he’d given her a second chance to accept a dinner date that would probably have turned out badly did absolutely no good. No good at all.

ABBY WATCHED THE MINUTE HAND on the clock in her living room tick by until it reached six-thirty, a half hour past when Connor was supposed to have arrived with Jaye for her first private lesson.

She picked up her own violin and played a few notes before becoming distracted. Had Jaye and her uncle forgotten? That seemed unlikely considering the talk Abby had with Jaye after strings class that afternoon. Abby had made it clear that she wouldn’t stand being lied to, nor would she keep any future misbehavior from Connor. Jaye had nodded mutely, then asked Abby not to change her mind about giving the private lessons. So then where were they?

Abby’s duplex apartment in Wheaton, a less attractive but more affordable area than Silver Spring, was about five miles and fifteen minutes north of the elementary school on a good day. Had Connor and Jaye gotten caught in unexpectedly heavy rush-hour traffic? If so, why hadn’t they called? And why was she so anxious at the prospect of seeing Connor again that she kept checking the front window every five minutes?

She parted the mini blinds, spotted the silver Porsche in front of her duplex and jumped back so they wouldn’t see her peering out at them. When the doorbell rang, she made herself wait a good ten seconds before pulling open the door.

Jaye stood on the stoop in front of Connor, her lower lip trembling and her face streaked with tears. Forgetting her anxiety at seeing Connor, Abby quickly ushered the nine-year-old inside. “Jaye, honey, what’s wrong?”

Jaye dipped her blond head, her thin shoulders shaking. Abby’s eyes raised to Connor. He was dressed in an expensive tailored suit, the same way he’d been the other times she’d seen him, but the similarities ended there.

His hair was disheveled, as though he’d been running his fingers through it. Smudges appeared under his eyes, and he seemed at a loss.

“She’s been like this since I picked her up at the school,” he explained. “Granted I was a little late—”

“Fifteen minutes late,” Jaye interjected.

Connor finished the sentence at the same time. “But it was only fifteen minutes.”

“I was the last one there,” Jaye said unhappily.

Abby rubbed the girl’s shoulder, silently conveying that she understood. She had experience dealing with children of this age. Promptness might not seem like that big of a deal, but every minute counted when a child was waiting to be picked up.

Especially a child whose mother had left her and hadn’t come back. Couldn’t Connor see that?

“I’m sure your uncle didn’t mean to be late, Jaye,” Abby told the girl in a soothing voice.

“He’s late all the time,” Jaye said.

“Some of the time,” Connor clarified.

“And now we’re late for the lesson.” Jaye glanced at the clock, which showed the time at twenty-five minutes before seven. “There’s only ten minutes left.”

“I don’t usually do this.” Abby never did this. “But you’re my last lesson of the day. How about we go until seven-twenty. That way, you won’t miss a minute.”

Jaye’s tears stopped flowing. “Really? You’d do that?”

“I most certainly will. Go over to the sofa and take your instrument out of the case. Will you do that, Jaye?”

“Sure,” she said and headed away from them.

“Thanks,” Connor said. “You’re saving my life.”

He looked so relieved that she nearly let him off the hook but realized she couldn’t. For Jaye’s sake. “This is a one-time thing,” she said quietly. “From now on, you need to get her here on time.”

He swiped a hand over his brow and lowered his own voice. “I don’t have the kind of job where it’s that easy to leave at a prearranged time. Clients call. They’re paying me for my time. I can’t just hang up on them.”

“You’re going to have to figure something out,” she said.

“I know that. I just don’t know what it’s going to be.”

His vulnerability touched a chord deep inside her. “Maybe we can talk about it later. But for now, Jaye’s waiting for her lesson. You can pick her up at about twenty after seven.”

“Would it be okay if I stuck around?” He lifted his portable computer. “I have a couple things I need to check online. Any flat surface will do. Your kitchen table would be great.”

She glanced at the still-sniffling Jaye. She sensed that something more serious than Connor showing up late was bothering her. Jaye would never reveal what it was if she thought her uncle could overhear.

“I find that my students do better without their parents—or in this case, their uncle—in the room.” She nodded toward the door. “Seven-twenty.”

She expected him to argue, but instead he asked, “Any suggestions on a place I could go for forty-five minutes?”

“There’s a public library a half mile down the road. It has lots of cubicles, all with flat surfaces.”

He tipped a nonexistent hat to her, said goodbye to a nonresponsive Jaye and left. Pasting a smile on her face, Abby turned to the girl. “Are you ready for your lesson?”

Jaye nodded, but made no move to pick up her violin from the open case. Abby lifted the delicate instrument, turning it over while she examined it. It was a rental from a popular music store, adequate for a beginner but not of the caliber Abby suggested for her more serious students. For now, though, it would do.

She handed the violin to Jaye. The girl took it but didn’t lift the instrument onto her shoulder the way Abby had taught her in class.

“What’s wrong, Jaye?”

“I already told you. Connor was late picking me up.” Jaye’s lower lip thrust forward, but the way it trembled betrayed that something more serious than her uncle’s tardiness distressed her.

“Okay,” Abby said, sensing that Jaye would clam up if she tried to force a confidence. “If that’s all it is, then let’s start the lesson.”

Jaye nodded, but her violin remained at her side. Staring at a point on the carpet, she said, “Remember when I told you my mother was dead? Well, I said that because I wish she was dead.”

Abby swallowed a cry of dismay and forced herself to speak in gentle, even tones. “You don’t mean that, honey. Whatever your mother’s done, she’s still your mother.”

“I hate her.” Jaye sniffed but didn’t cry. “She left me with Uncle Connor.”

“Your uncle seems okay to me.”

She shrugged. “He is okay. But he doesn’t have time for me. He doesn’t pick me up from school till six o’clock and half the time he’s late.”

“He has to work, Jaye.” Since Abby had taken Connor to task for putting in too much time at the office, she found it surreal that she was sticking up for him. “I imagine he’s doing the best he can. He didn’t plan on you coming to live with him.”

“He doesn’t want me any more than my mom does.”

Although Connor’s life would obviously be easier if his niece hadn’t come to live with him. Abby couldn’t let the girl paint him with such a negative brush stroke. “He’s your uncle, Jaye. I’m sure he loves you.”

“Then why can’t I come home after school and be with him?”

“I told you, Jaye. He has to work. And you’re not old enough to stay home alone.”

“I’m too old to hang out with the babies at day care.”

“Surely there are other children your age there.”

“They don’t want me there. They’re all boys. They barely talk to me. And they won’t let me play with them.”

Abby swallowed a sigh because she well understood how it felt not to be wanted. Jaye’s situation was doubly difficult. Not only had her mother left her, she was meeting with rejection in every direction she turned. “Have you talked to your uncle about how much you dislike the school-based day care?”

She nodded. “He says it’s the best he can do and that I need to stick it out.”

Abby had a sense that she’d regret her next question, but couldn’t keep from asking it. “I can’t promise anything but would you like me to talk to him for you?”

Jaye nodded eagerly, making Abby feel marginally less apprehensive about the offer. “Oh, yes, please, Miss Reed.”

Abby smiled at her. “When we’re not at school, you can call me Abby.”

Jaye smiled back. “Okay, Abby.”

“Now are you ready for the lesson?”

Jaye nodded.

“Settle the instrument into playing position and let’s do a D scale. Remember to keep your fingers curved and the bow flat on the strings.”

Her lower lip thrust forward in concentration, Jaye did exactly as she was told.

For the next forty-five minutes, Abby tried to focus on the techniques involved in giving a student her first lesson. But every time Jaye played a scale, Abby’s mind wandered to Connor and the conversation she’d promised to have with him.

She wasn’t sure why, but she had the strong impression it wouldn’t go her way.

CONNOR STOOD OUTSIDE THE DOOR of Abby’s duplex a few minutes before he was due to pick up Jaye, listening to the sounds of his niece playing the violin.

She wasn’t anywhere close to a performer’s level of proficiency, but he recognized that she was playing a song.

He felt an odd pride that Jaye could coax any sound at all from the instrument, let alone identifiable notes. Maybe Abby was right. Maybe she did have a talent for the thing.

Not wanting to interrupt the lesson, he tried the door and found it unlocked. He slipped inside, making a mental note to tell Abby that she really should use her dead bolt. Jaye stood in front of a music stand, her concentration fully engaged. Abby was off to one side, looking over her shoulder.

Her eyes met his and held. The air between them seemed to charge with awareness, but then she put a finger to her lips. Maybe he’d only imagined the connection because he wanted it to be there. By adamantly refusing his dinner invitation, she certainly hadn’t given him any reason for hope. But hope he did.

Jaye finished the song, a small smile of triumph on her lips. It faded when she caught sight of Connor.

“That was good, Jaye,” Connor said, but the girl didn’t respond. He stifled a groan. What was it going to take for him to build a relationship with her?

“Your uncle’s right. It was good,” Abby told the girl. “You’ll be graduating to more difficult songs before you know it. Just remember to practice at least twenty minutes every day so you don’t forget what we went over.”

“I always practice more than that.”

“That’s great. You know what they say. Practice makes…”

“Perfect,” the two of them said in unison, then laughed.

When Jaye started to pack up, Abby came directly toward him. His pulse sped up until he realized she only meant to hand him a sheet of paper.

“I wrote down the name of a beginning violin book I’d like you to buy before the next lesson. Any of the area music stores should have it in stock.”

“I’ll do it,” he promised, even as he wondered when he’d have the time.

She’d started to retreat when Jaye stopped her with a loud whisper. “Aren’t you going to ask him?”

“Ask me what?” he said.

“Can I use the bathroom, Abby?” Jaye said before she could answer. It didn’t escape Connor’s notice that she used her teacher’s first name, which Abby must have authorized. Good. The child needed a female role model in her life, and Abby fit the bill. The more comfortable Jaye felt around her, the better.

“Sure. It’s upstairs, first door on the right.” Abby waited until the girl was halfway up the stairs before turning to him. “Jaye wants me to talk to you about her after-school care.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Why can’t she talk to me about it herself?”

Abby shrugged. “I get the impression she thinks you’ll pay more attention if it comes from me.”

He frowned, troubled by the notion that Jaye thought he wasn’t paying enough attention to her. He knew firsthand how that could undermine a child’s confidence. Connor had grown up in the shadow of a younger brother so athletically gifted he’d stolen the spotlight whenever he’d taken a field or a court.

Their parents had dwelled so heavily on J.D.’s accomplishments that it often seemed as though they had little time left for him and Diana. After J.D. had died, they’d become even more hyper-focused on him. Not that Connor had resented his brother for any of that. He’d loved J.D., too. Everybody had.

“What about Jaye’s after-school care?” he asked Abby.

“She hates it.”

He sighed because he’d expected the answer. “I’m not completely oblivious to what’s going on with her. One of the teachers there told me she wasn’t mixing well with the other students.”

“Then you won’t be surprised that she wants you to make other arrangements for her.”

“I’m ahead of you on that. I already got the names of the day-care centers in the area that can pick her up after school.”

“That’s great.”

“No, it’s not. All of them were full. Since I can’t get off work at three o’clock every day, she’s stuck. I don’t have anywhere else for her to go.”

“Maybe the mother of one of her friends will take her.”

“As far as I know, she hasn’t made any real friends.” He thought of the way Jaye had smiled at Abby and called her by her first name. “Except you.”

“Unfortunately that also doesn’t help you,” she said, “because I can’t take her.”

“Why not?” Now that the solution had occurred to him, it seemed perfect. “I’d pay you.”

“It’s not a matter of money. I give private lessons after school four days a week. A child would be bored to tears.”

“Not a child who loves music,” he argued.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” Abby said slowly.

“You don’t want me, either, do you, Abby?” The small voice came from the staircase. Jaye sat frozen in place on one of the middle steps, looking small and vulnerable. And very, very sad.

“It’s not that, honey,” Abby tried to reassure her. “I’m just afraid you wouldn’t like being here while I was giving lessons.”

The misery in Jaye’s expression ebbed, but only slightly. “I wouldn’t be bored. I could watch TV or play games on your computer.”

“Or, better yet, read and do homework,” Connor added. To Abby, he said, “What do you say? Are you willing to give it a shot?”

A part of him knew he was being unfair to Abby by putting her on the spot, but a bigger part wanted her to agree. Because then not only would Jaye get to see Abby more often, he would, too.

Jaye held her body tautly, with her shoulders hunched, as though expecting a blow. It couldn’t be more clear that she expected to be rejected.

Abby realized it, too. Connor could tell by the way her mouth softened while she regarded the child.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s give it a try.”

“Do you mean it?” Jaye’s voice held a mixture of hope and suspicion.

“I mean it,” Abby said. “I’m only at your school one day a week, but the rest of the time I’m across the street at the middle school. I’ll collect you at three and bring you here. Your uncle can pick you up when he gets off work.”

Jaye’s face creased into a rare smile. She jumped to her feet and scampered the rest of the way down the stairs, not stopping until she flung her arms around Abby’s waist.

Abby stroked the girl’s hair, exchanging a look with Connor above Jaye’s head.

He smiled at her, more sure than ever that she was a woman he wanted in both of their lives.

CHAPTER FOUR

JAYE HELD THE EMPTY BOX of brownie mix, little lines of concentration appearing on her forehead as she read the directions on the back. “It says we should add two eggs.”

Abby opened the refrigerator door, retrieved the eggs from the tray and put them down on the counter next to the mixing bowl. “You know how to crack them, right?”

The girl’s eyes rounded. “Of course. I added the right amount of oil and water, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did. In fact, you’re a natural in the kitchen. Want to tell me how you got to be that way?”

“My mom taught me some stuff,” Jaye mumbled.

Abby would have liked to pursue the subject, but the girl picked up an egg and kept talking.

“You tap gently on the edge of the bowl,” Jaye said, explaining to Abby the fine points of cracking an egg. The girl’s tongue stuck out slightly as she focused on the task. “Then you let the egg guts slide inside it.”

“Egg guts,” Abby repeated. “You do have a way with words as well as brownies.”

Jaye giggled, something that had been happening more as the first week of their new arrangement wore on. It was Friday, the fifth day they’d been together but the only one in which Abby hadn’t taught lessons.

So far, the arrangement had worked far better than Abby had expected. Because of Jaye’s penchant for attracting attention, she’d feared that the girl would disrupt her lessons.

But Jaye proved adept at entertaining herself. She usually chose to stay in the room where Abby gave lessons, but even that caused no problems.

Connor Smith was the one causing a problem.

He was just so…sexy.

Abby wasn’t sure when she’d started to associate that description with him, but now that she had she couldn’t get it out of her mind.

She noticed small things about him, such as the way he gave her his undivided attention, as though nothing were more important than what she had to say.

She found herself appreciating the simple act of breathing because of the clean, male way he smelled.

And his mouth… His mouth was sheer masculine perfection. More than once, she’d daydreamed about how it would feel to kiss him.

Not that kissing him would be smart, considering how she felt about his work-centered lifestyle.

Besides, despite his invitation to take her to dinner, which he hadn’t repeated, she was relatively certain he had a girlfriend. Relatively certain, but not positive.

“Should I pour the batter into the pan now?” Jaye asked. “I already sprayed it with cooking spray.”

Abby brought her attention back to the girl. “Go ahead.”

Jaye poured, assigning the task the same attention she’d given everything else. When she finished scraping the batter from the mixing bowl into the pan, she carefully set the pan into the preheated oven.

“One more hour,” Jaye announced.

Abby tilted her head quizzically. “Are you sure? I thought the brownies only took forty minutes to bake.”

“I meant one more hour until Uncle Connor comes to get me.” Jaye thrust out her lower lip. “I wish I could stay here with you tonight.”

“Your uncle hasn’t seen you much this week. I’m sure he wants to spend some time with you.”

Jaye made a face. “He’d probably rather go on a date.”

There couldn’t have been a more perfect opening to find out if Connor was involved with anyone. “Is your uncle still seeing that woman who used to pick you up from after-school care?”

Jaye made a face. “I didn’t like her. She was mean to me. She wanted me to move out so she could move in. But she’s gone.”

It was news to Abby that Connor had been dating someone seriously enough to contemplate living with her. It was probably also none of her business. Except now that she was spending so much time with Jaye, anything involving the girl was sort of her business. Or so she told herself.

“Is he dating anyone new?”

“I don’t think so.” Jaye pointed to the clock, which showed that it was nearly five o’clock. “Would it be okay if I watched Nickelodeon? There’s a funny show on at five o’clock that I like.”

“Go ahead,” Abby said.

Jaye was still watching television forty minutes later when the oven timer beeped, signaling that it was time to take the brownies out of the oven. Fifteen minutes after that, when they’d cooled enough for Abby to cut them, the television was still on.

The telephone rang. Half expecting it to be Connor saying he’d be late, Abby picked it up, ignoring the sudden racing of her heart.

“Hello.” Her voice sounded slightly breathless.

“Hey, girlfriend. What’s happening?”

Abby’s heartbeat returned to normal at the sound of her friend’s voice. Some years ago she’d met Rae Ann at a pottery-making class. In spite of the fun they’d had, making pottery hadn’t caught on with either of them, but their friendship had blossomed. “I’m baking brownies.”

“For a man?” Rae Ann asked.

Abby laughed. Rae Ann had a one-track mind. “For one of my students. What’s up?”

Abby cradled the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she cut the brownies.

“I called about tomorrow night. Did you line up a date yet?”

“I already told you, Rae Ann, I’ll come but I’m not bringing a man with me.”

“Oh, come on, Abby. We’re all bringing dates. That’s the entire point of getting together on a night we don’t usually meet. It’s supposed to be something different, something fun.”

Abby used a spatula to start transferring the brownies from the baking pan to a Tupperware container. “I can have plenty of fun without a man.”

Rae Ann sighed dramatically, and Abby imagined her rolling her eyes. “Listen to yourself, Abs. You might as well become a nun with an attitude like that.”

“You know I like men as much as any of you.”

“Then what’s your problem?”

Abby paused. “I don’t have anybody to ask.”

“Nonsense. Open your eyes and smell the testosterone. There are men everywhere. You can’t tell me that one of them doesn’t ring your bell.”

“Well,” Abby said slowly and licked her lips. She could hardly believe she was going to bare her soul to Rae Ann, not when she’d hardly admitted as much to herself. She could hear the television playing in the next room and figured it was safe to talk. “There is somebody.”

“Who?” Rae Ann demanded. “And when can I meet him?”

Abby smiled. “I didn’t say we were going out, Rae. I said I’m attracted to him.”

“You mean he gets you hot?”

“Okay. Yes. He gets me hot.”

“What does he look like?”

“Tall, dark and luscious. He has the most beautiful mouth God put on a man. I can’t look at it without fantasizing about kissing him.”

“How about his body?”

Abby put down the spatula, the brownies remaining in the pan forgotten. “I can’t say for sure because he’s always wearing too many damned clothes, but I’m betting there’s some prime beef under there.”

Rae erupted into laughter. “So who is this mystery man?”

“The uncle of one of my students. He’ll be by any minute to pick her up.” She lowered her voice. “I swear, Rae, lately when I see him, my heart races so fast my head can hardly keep up.”

“So why don’t you bring him?”

“Oh, I couldn’t. He’s the sophisticated type. He wouldn’t come with me to something like this.”

“Wanna bet?” asked a low-throated, masculine voice.

Abby’s eyes flew to the entrance of the kitchen, where Connor leaned negligently against the door frame.

She closed her eyes in mortification. What was he doing here on time? His usual modus operandi was to show up anywhere from ten to twenty minutes late, although he usually called to let her know when he wouldn’t be on time.

Something clanked, and it took her a moment to realize she’d dropped the phone. She heard Rae Ann’s panicked voice coming over the line. “Abs, what happened? Are you all right?”

Connor’s gorgeous mouth curved into a smile. Her heart raced, exactly the way she’d described to Rae Ann.

She bent to pick the phone off the floor. “Rae, I gotta go. I’ll call you back later.”