Finding His Way Home. Barbara GaleЧитать онлайн книгу.
who had changed, and she was surprised he had recognized her.
Linc, why have you come here?
Her eyes filled with tears, Valetta was unable to ask the question out loud but it was just as well, because she was absolutely sure he had no explanation that would suit her.
Go, Linc, leave now. You can see for yourself that you don’t belong here.
She shouted the silent plea, sure he could hear if he wanted.
I’ve made my life. My salvation is here, wrapped in this tiny bundle of red wool. Valetta glanced down at her daughter, pulling her closer, almost as if to shield her from his sight.
It was Jerome, alert to the tempest brewing, who saved the moment. Curious, protective and polite all at the same time, he observed the guarded looks on the faces of both Lincoln and Valetta with amusement born of old age and experience.
“Guess you found what you were looking for,” he said as he removed Lincoln’s cup. Too bad the stranger didn’t look too happy about it. Too bad Valetta didn’t, either.
Chapter Three
At precisely five o’clock, on a brutally cold winter’s night, in a small town perched on the edge of the Adirondack Mountains, Crater’s Diner was suddenly a revolving door of hungry, weary customers all wanting the blue plate special. The diner became a low thrum of voices recapping the day, making plans for the weekend, arguing good-naturedly over who was going to drive the ski team to Plattsburg for the state finals, figuring out who was going to coach the soccer team next spring. While the adults sorted out their schedules, their kids sat quietly hunched over their schoolbooks, getting a start on their homework while they waited for their dinner.
In the midst of all this, Valetta and Lincoln stood suspended in time, unheeding while the world rushed past them. Ten years and a thousand what-ifs fell by the wayside as the past merged with the present. But there was no time to talk, to salute each other with meaningless words while they recovered their composure. Mellie’s tug on her mother’s sweater called them back to earth. “Come on, Mom, let’s go sit down! I’m starved!”
Valetta forced a smile. “You’re always hungry, sweetie. Go check on Yellow and then we’ll see what Jerome has for dinner.”
“It’s Tuesday, Mom! It’s Mulligan Stew!”
“Please, do as I say, Mellie.” Valetta watched as her daughter skipped over to her dog and whispered in his ear. She heard Lincoln whisper, too.
“I’m sorry, Valetta, I didn’t think to warn you I was coming. It was inconsiderate of me. I can see that my appearance has come as a shock.”
“To say the least.”
Lincoln could see that she was troubled, but so was he. “That little girl comes as a big shock to me. I’m talking about Mellie,” he explained to her confused look. “She’s adorable.”
Valetta was surprised. “You mean, you didn’t know? Alexis never told you?”
“Valetta, I had no idea you were even married,” Lincoln said quietly. “Alexis never said a word.”
“I…I’m…”
“Okay, I’m back,” Mellie piped up as she returned from her errand. “Yellow promised to stay put,” she announced over her shoulder as she marched down the aisle and flung her backpack in a booth.
“May I join you?” Lincoln asked politely.
Valetta hesitated, unsure what to do. He hadn’t flown three thousand miles to sit down at a counter. Come to think of it, why had he come? “Is Alexis—”
“Alexis is fine,” he assured her quickly.
Relieved, Valetta’s reluctant nod was a forced concession. She led the way to the booth, glad that Mellie had chosen one at the back of the diner, just in case the conversation got out of hand. Not that she would ever allow that to happen, not with Mellie present. Not that the Lincoln Cameron she remembered would ever be so crass, but conversations had a way of getting out of control.
Judging from the way Valetta’s eyes darted nervously about, Lincoln knew that she was upset. It was easy to read, too, in her stiff spine as he followed her down the narrow aisle, although she greeted everyone politely. He guessed that she and her daughter were regulars, that eating in the diner was a habit, maybe for the whole town, the way the booths had filled up. There wasn’t even a seat available at the counter. Jerome Crater served more than ten customers! Judging from the platters emerging from the kitchen, chunks of beef sitting in a thick steaming puddle of brown gravy, surrounded by potatoes and dotted with barley, Lincoln thought it was probably a wise choice. Very few people had time to cook like that anymore. The aroma alone made his mouth water, and he had just had lunch!
Mellie was surprised when Lincoln slid into their booth, but Valetta covered her daughter’s hand and quickly introduced them. “Mellie, sweetie, this is Mr. Lincoln Cameron. He’s an old family friend.”
Mellie’s assessment of the stranger was swift and concise. “We already met. And you don’t look that old—you look like a pirate.”
“Mellie!”
“No, don’t,” Lincoln stopped Valetta, stroking his five o’clock shadow. “You know what, Miss Mellie? So many people have told me that, I am beginning to wonder if maybe I was, in a past life.”
“Hey, we learned all about that in school. Re-in-car-na- tion, my teacher called it. Do you really believe in that kind of stuff?” Mellie asked, squinting up at Lincoln.
“Reincarnation? Not really, but like I said, sometimes I wonder. How about you?”
Mellie thought about it. “No, I don’t think so, either. But maybe.”
Lincoln nodded. “Smart girl. Always cover your bases.”
Mellie shrugged as she began to dig through her backpack, apparently unconcerned that she didn’t get his meaning. Lincoln watched as all manner of things began to appear on the table: a battered pink Barbie pencil box; two nubby erasers; a pink pencil sharpener; dirty tissues; clean tissues; and a battered box of cherry cough drops. The tools of the trade, he mused. Amused to notice, too, that although Mellie was busy setting herself up for some serious coloring, she had not lost sight of their guest.
“How come you know my mom?”
“I live in California.”
Mellie was impressed. “Mom, you knew Mr. Cameron when you lived in California?”
Valetta sighed for the questions that were about to come fast and furious. “Yes, California,” she said vaguely.
“Oh, Mr. Cameron, do you know my Aunt ’Lexis? She lives in California, too. Right, Mom?”
Lincoln was relieved to hear that Valetta had not entirely hidden her past from her child. It made his job easier. “As a matter of fact, yes, I do know your aunt. Quite well, actually.”
Valetta paled. So, she thought, things had not changed all that much. But Mellie gave her no time to think. “My mom told me that my aunt lives in a castle, so she must be rich. I’ve never met her, but if she lives in a castle, she must be rich as Crustus.”
“As rich as Croesus, Mellie, not Crustus. And it’s not good manners to talk about someone else’s money.” Valetta’s swift warning glance told Lincoln that Mellie was ignorant of her mother’s share in that wealth. His faint nod told her that he understood.
“Well, okay. But since Croesus was a king, does that make my aunt a queen? Because I would like to be a princess,” Mellie declared, as she opened a huge box of crayons. “Would that make me a princess?”