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“No, I’m here. You’re here. Let’s see how it goes.”
Isabella grinned and stood up to clear a chair for him. “Okay, so come over here and sit down,” she instructed. “Have you got something to read? No, better yet, open your computer—that’s good.” Isabella danced around him choreographing the surprise for Norah. “Here she comes,” she whispered and giggled as she buried her face in a fashion magazine.
Norah was still several yards away, but he instantly picked her out of the masses and time reversed as he recalled the moment he’d realized he was in love with her. She had been a high school junior and he was a senior. She had lived just down the block from him her entire life. They had waited together at the same bus stop, attended the same church, seen each other countless times in all seasons because their parents were the best of friends. And yet, had he ever really looked at her until that winter’s day when he stood shivering next to his broken-down car waiting for his dad to come and rescue him?
She’d been with a gang of her girlfriends, laughing and gabbing the way teenaged girls did, when one of them had spotted him. That girl had nudged Norah and nodded in his direction. Norah had peeled away from the others and headed his way.
“Problem?” The way she said it he thought she was getting a kick out his misery.
“Not if you’ve got a set of jumper cables in your backpack,” he fired back.
Her eyes had widened in surprise. “You don’t have jumper cables?”
Tom had seen no reason to respond to the obvious. Instead of moving on, she had leaned against the car with him. “Want me to call my dad?”
“No.”
“Well, no need to be rude,” she’d muttered, then, “Oh, you called your dad.”
His father had pulled up then and produced the necessary cables to jump-start Tom’s car. “You okay from here?” he asked when the car fired and continued to idle. “I have to get back to work.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Pop.”
Norah had still been standing there after his dad drove away. “You need a ride or something?”
“Are you going home?”
Tom had sighed. “No, I thought as long as I got the thing running I’d take a drive to California. Yes, I’m going home. Get in.”
She had and then just after he’d pulled into traffic, she started laughing. This girl was laughing at Tom Wallace—student council president, varsity quarterback, on his way to university. “What?” he’d barked.
“Your ears are like Rudolph’s nose,” she’d managed. “I mean they are seriously red. They have these things now called hats, you know.”
He’d glanced at himself in the rearview mirror. She had a point. He found himself grinning and then they were both laughing.
“Here,” she said and pulled off her own knit stocking cap and pulled it over his hair and ears. Her warmth was still there in the yarn.
He’d dropped her off at her house, handed her back her hat and asked if she had a date for the winter dance. And she had answered by asking a question of her own. “Are you asking me to go with you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then ask,” she’d said.
That was Norah—straightforward, self-confident, and sometimes too sure that she was in the right. Like when she refused to even consider the move to San Francisco.
“She’s coming,” Bella hissed. “Look busy.”
Over the open cover of his computer, Tom watched Norah approach. Five years. Suddenly it seemed like forever. What would he say to her after so much time? It wasn’t as if they hadn’t spoken. The one thing they had both agreed upon was that Izzy’s welfare and happiness came before any conflict or battle scars they might have with each other. But what to say face-to-face?
It had been so long since he had seen her and yet he would have recognized that graceful walk anywhere. The smile given so freely to total strangers. It suddenly struck him how much he had missed that smile. It had been hard to come by as their marriage had crumbled. Not that he had been giving her his best either. He’d been angry and hurt and looking hard for somewhere to lay the blame and guilt he felt creeping over him. He felt a little of it now, but maturity made him recognize it for what it was. Trying to make the fact they hadn’t seen each other for five long years her fault.
And now here she was not ten feet away, stopping to retrieve a child’s toy and return it with a goofy face that made the kid laugh. He had less than a minute to figure out some snappy line. His hands were shaking slightly. She looked great. She was one of those fortunate women who would age beautifully. He saw a couple of male passengers in the waiting area glance her way and felt a prick of the jealousy mixed with pride he’d always felt whenever they went somewhere together.
“Any updates?” she asked as she moved Isabella’s backpack to the floor and started to sit. He could smell the familiar perfume of her hair, her skin. He could see the little scar that ran just in front of her left ear. She glanced at him and was prepared to nod pleasantly when her eyes went wide and her body froze.
Tom gave her an uncertain smile as he basked in the sheer pleasure of being near enough to touch her after all this time. Same dark hair—different style. Sort of a tousled cap of curls. Skin—unblemished except for the two spots of high color that currently dotted her cheeks. Eyes? Ah, those eyes. The blue-green color of a clear water lake—deep enough to swim in, get lost in.
“Surprise,” he said quietly as he closed the cover of his computer.
Chapter Two
Norah could not have been more surprised if the president himself had been sitting next to her. Her lips twitched, but her voice seemed frozen as a number of catchy comebacks rocketed through her brain.
Gee, obviously the last five years have been great to you—you look…
Well, imagine this—
Tom Wallace, how long has it been? Let’s see, must be five years, three months and twelve days or something like that.
Izzy bounced to her knees on the chair to Norah’s left and rescued her. “Do you believe this? I mean what are the odds that we’d all end up in the same airport at the same time and waiting on the same plane?”
“Pretty good given the fact you knew I was coming this way, young lady,” Tom said, but his eyes never left Norah’s face.
Her gaze shifted to Isabella. “You knew?”
“Sorta, kinda,” Izzy said and looked down.
Norah blinked, her thick black lashes feathering her cheeks. “Isabella Wallace, I am surprised at you.” She realized she could not avoid acknowledging Tom’s presence forever, so she took a deep breath and plastered on her biggest smile. “How are you, Tom?” she asked as if they were former classmates who had run into each other unexpectedly.
“Good. Fine,” he said, clearing his throat. “You?”
“Fine,” she said.
Isabella made a face and they both heard her sigh of frustration. The sigh brought Norah’s attention back to her daughter. “You should go to the restroom,” she said.
“Mom,” Izzy moaned. “Stop treating me like I’m eight. I know when I do and don’t have to go, okay?”
Isabella had been just about to celebrate her eighth birthday when the divorce papers arrived. Norah had had the phone in hand ready to call and put Izzy on the line so she could tell her father all about the party that Norah had arranged. In those early weeks and months she had remained in shock. It seemed impossible that she and Tom—of all people—had gone their separate ways.
The airport public address system crackled to life. “They’re calling first class,” Norah translated the garbled message and nodded toward the open door leading to the jetway.
He smiled. “I’m in coach. Busiest travel day of the year—you know how it goes.”
“You can sit with us,” Isabella said.
Simultaneously Norah and Tom opened their mouths to object to that idea.
“The plane is packed, honey,” Norah said.
“We’re running late, Bella. Let’s not complicate things,” Tom said.
Norah glanced his way, acknowledging with a slight nod of her head that he had backed her up. But then they had always been a team when it came to their daughter. The one thing they had both held sacred was that whatever differences they had, those would not affect Isabella any more than they had already.
She’s still so young and lots of her classmates have divorced parents, they had both rationalized. In time, surely….
“Why did you decide to travel under such circumstances?” she asked. “No one’s ill, are they?” she asked alarmed and saw that familiar flicker of irritation because he took her comment wrong. No doubt he thought that she was implying that the only thing that could drag Tom away from his work on a moment’s notice had to be something to do with his parents. Most of their arguments in those last months together had been about his devotion, or as she saw it obsession, with his career.
“Clare and Liz got this idea that we should all surprise Mom and Dad over Thanksgiving for their fiftieth,” he replied. “You know Clare. Once she gets an idea it’s easier to let her have her way than try to debate the timing of the idea.”
“Aunt Liz is coming, too? And the cousins?” Isabella clapped her hands in delight. “I mean is this the best Thanksgiving or what?”
The gate agent called Norah and Isabella’s row. Norah busied herself gathering her things and organizing Izzy’s belongings in her backpack.
“We could share a car when we get to Chicago,” Tom said.
“I’ve already reserved one,” she replied and then immediately added. “Of course, I could cancel it. Yes, sharing a car would be nice. Thanks.”
“Okay, so see you in Chicago,” he said as he hugged Izzy.
“You and your father can talk more there,” Norah promised Izzy as she hurried her toward the gate.
You and your father…meaning what? She didn’t intend to say anything?
She glanced back wanting to apologize for what he might have thought she was implying, but Tom was packing his computer, his back to her.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Isabella announced as soon as they had located their seats and she had stowed her backpack under the seat nearest the window leaving Norah with the middle.
“I warned you,” Norah said, but stood aside, blocking boarding passengers so Isabella could make her way to the rear of the plane. She sat down again and bent to rearrange their belongings so that she would have some legroom. When she looked up Tom was standing in the aisle waiting for other passengers ahead of him to get settled.
“I’m in the back,” he said, making a face.
Norah shook her head sympathetically. “I’m in the middle,” she replied, indicating the obvious. It was the kind of banter they’d always been good at and a little of the initial tension between them eased. During their marriage they’d had a long-running debate about which was worse—back of the plane with its noise and turbulence or crushed between two passengers who seemed to think they had claim to all armrests.
“Trade you?”
Norah smiled. “Not a chance.”
Tom moved on just as the crew chief announced another slight delay to allow passengers on a late-arriving plane to make their connection.
A large man carrying a briefcase, carry-on luggage and an overcoat opened and slammed several filled overhead compartments. Norah pulled the airline magazine from the seatback pocket and flipped through it hoping he had the vacant seat across the aisle.
No such luck. He forced the luggage into an overhead bin two rows ahead of them, then threw his coat onto the seat and sat down heavily, his bulk and the coat spilling over into Norah’s space as he jammed the briefcase under the seat in front of him.
Norah nodded at him as she gently pushed his coat off the armrest they shared. The man ignored her.
“Hey, Mom,” Isabella said. “Guess what?” Izzy was accompanied by a young woman with a toddler in tow and what looked like a newborn cradled in her arms.
“This is Emma and she’s got the two seats next to Dad and she’d be willing to switch, so I said that would be great—I’ll even take the middle.”
Norah tried not to take perverse pleasure in the look of pleading horror the businessman gave her. “You’ll take the middle?”
“Yeah, come on.”
“Excuse me,” Norah said sweetly as she recovered her purse and Isabella’s backpack and stood.
“But,” the man protested as Norah slid past him.
“Everything all right here?” the male flight attendant asked.
“Perfect,” Isabella exclaimed. “My dad’s back there and this nice lady traded so that now we get to sit together and—”
“Okay, I just need everyone to get settled as soon as possible. We’re about to close the cabin door.”
Tom was standing in the aisle waiting for them. Norah tried not to stare at the way his hair—brown streaked with copper—was still thick and silky. She did not meet his chocolate-brown eyes, fixed on her as she slid next to the window and Isabella took the middle without protest.
“You put her up to that—switching,” Norah said.
“What?” Tom’s eyes were wide with innocence.
“It was my idea, Mom,” Isabella said. “Honestly.”
Norah had her doubts.
“How are your folks?” Tom asked politely once they were buckled in.
“Fine,” Norah answered equally as polite. This was going to be interminable. Suddenly she was glad to be in the back where the engine noise would surely make conversation impossible.
“This is going to be so great,” Isabella exclaimed, ignoring the tension between her parents. “I mean, just wait until we all show up together. They are going to seriously freak.”
“How’s work?” Tom asked Norah.
“Fine,” she said and looked out the window as the plane slowly taxied toward the runway. She wondered if she could be capable of more than that one-word response to anything Tom might ask.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the short delay, but we should be airborne in about twenty minutes.”
There was a ripple of muttered comments. “It’s sleeting,” Norah said.
Tom leaned across Isabella’s lap to look out. Norah could not help but be aware of the scent of his aftershave—familiar and at the same time exotic. “From the looks of that sky we just need to get going,” he said as the plane inched forward in line. “You okay?” He glanced up at Norah and she knew that he was remembering how nervous she got when flying. She couldn’t help being touched that he had remembered.
“Fine,” she replied and then grimaced. “I seem to have the same answer for everything, don’t I?”
“Well, yeah,” Isabella said before Tom could answer. “You’re acting like you’re on a first date or something, Mom.”
Tom leaned back in his seat. “And just what would you know about first dates, young lady?”
Isabella blushed and giggled. “Oh, Dad.”
Norah reached for her purse and pulled out a Sudoku puzzle book.
