Home Again

She chose her words carefully. “Angel talked to me about that. He didn’t want the press hounding you. But he’s very proud of you.”

“He mentioned you,” she said.

“I’m one of his doctors.”

There was a pause, then, “Did he really say he was proud of me?” The question sounded wistful.

“Yes, he did.”

Lina laughed, a short, sharp sound that ended quickly. “Yeah, well, I’ve got my key. If you’re asleep, I’ll just let myself in and go to bed.”

“Oh, right, Lina. Like I can sleep with you out. I’ll be waiting up for you.”

Lina laughed. “I can always hope. See you at eleven-thirty, Mom.”

“Eleven. Be careful and have fun. Wear your seat belt.”

“Mom…” She sighed dramatically. “Come on …”

Madelaine grinned at her own neuroses. “You’re lu

cky I don’t make you wear a crash helmet. Tell Vicki and Zach hello for me. And, Lina …”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

There was another quiet pause, and Madelaine could hear her daughter breathing on the other end of the phone. “Yeah, Mom. I love you, too.”

Madelaine hung up the phone and looked around. The house felt empty without Lina. It was amazing how much even a quiet, sullen teenager could enliven a room. She grabbed a mug and made herself a pot of Earl Grey tea, then took the cup into the living room, flicking on lights as she went.

She was just about to draw herself a bath when the doorbell rang. Setting her tea down on the pink marble rim of the bathtub, she hurried to open the front door.

Angel stood there, looking for all the world like he belonged on her front porch. “Heya, Mad,” he said, giving her a bright, boyish grin that made her heartbeat speed up. Then he whipped a bouquet of hothouse daisies out from behind his back.

She stared at them in shock, trying—idiotically—to remember the last time a man had given her flowers. “They’re beautiful,” she said—also idiotically, she thought. But she couldn’t think straight. He looked so handsome standing there, backlit by a huge blanket of starry night sky.

He glanced down at the droopy bouquet, then up at her again. “I was going to buy you a dozen red roses—even went into the flower shop—but it felt like my old life. The way I used to do things for women that didn’t matter.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I saw these daisies and thought about the ones that grow wild in front of my cabin … and I thought they were right for you.”

The sentiment touched her so deeply that for a second she couldn’t find her voice. She felt ridiculous and immature … and wonderful. She tried to think of something witty to say and came up empty. Nervously she hooked her thumb toward the kitchen. “I’ll put them in water.”

He grinned. “You do that.”

She took the flowers and lifted them to her face, breathing deeply of the fresh, watery scent. Turning, she led him into the kitchen and pulled out a chipped porcelain vase—the only one she had. At his look, she shrugged. “I don’t have flowers in the house very often.”

He stared at her. “You should,” he said in a feather-soft voice. “Now, put them in water so we can go.”

She plopped them in the vase and wished fleetingly that she were gifted in floral arrangement. “Go?” she asked distractedly, moving one large blossom to the front of the vase. It snapped off in her fingers and she winced.

“I have big plans for us tonight.”

She balanced the broken flower on the cracked golden rim. “I can’t go out…. Lina—”

“Lina called me before I left the house. She told me she was going to the movies with Zach.”

She turned to look at him. “Are you telling me we’re going on a date?”

He laughed. “I see those fifteen years in college weren’t a complete waste.”