A Mother to Love. Gail Gaymer Martin
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Rick reached for her, but before he captured Carly she spun away from him toward the car, wearing a silly grin as she beckoned to him to follow. A tender feeling oozed through Angie as she viewed the father-daughter antics. Though she had lost confidence in men and had no desire to marry, today a sweet sensation ran through her, and for once she understood the joy of being a family. With the image in her mind, she melted.
* * *
Rick pulled into Sunburst Garden and parked. He hadn’t felt this alive in years. Carly’s smile and excitement sent guilt creeping up his back. Why hadn’t he thought to teach her things like planting a flower or doing simple tasks? She’d cozied up to Angie as if she was a female Pied Piper. Though logic said he should feel a bit envious, he didn’t. Seeing his daughter’s spirit higher than the treetops—and over such simple things—lifted him into the clouds.
He jumped from the car and headed for Carly to unhook her booster seat, but she’d already loosened the belts and slipped out of the shoulder strap as Angie opened the door for her. She bounded from the SUV, skipping around them as if she had swallowed jumping beans. The sight made him laugh. “You are a bundle of energy.”
“I’m excited ’cause Angie said I can help plant flowers.” Carly gazed at Angie with admiration. “I’ve never planted flowers.”
“Okay, but if you’re good at it, then I’ll put you to work at home.” He gave Carly a wink.
Carly loved the idea and skittered ahead of them through the nursery gate into the outdoor area filled with all types of perennial plants.
He held back, longing for time to talk with Angie, but he suspected that wouldn’t be easy with Carly’s exuberance.
Angie found a shopping cart and placed an empty flower flat in it and then pushed it along with Carly hanging on to the handle. Rick followed, amazed at his little girl’s attraction to Angie and the whole idea of planting flowers.
Angie beckoned her toward the annuals inside the building and pointed to a flat. “See these flowers, Carly?”
She nodded. “They’re pretty.”
“They’re called wave petunias, and they’re beautiful when they grow in a garden, so I want you to pick out the colors that you like and put them in this box.” Angie picked up a box of pink petunias and set them in one of the little compartments. “We’ll fill this flat with all kinds of colors that you like, and they will grow so big you’ll be surprised.”
“I get to pick them myself?”
Angie nodded. “I trust you’ll do a good job, and I’ll be right here.”
Rick’s head spun hearing the dialogue between the two. Carly moved up and down the lengthy row, studying the plants as if she’d been asked to make a necklace from the crown jewels.
Angie stood back, an amazing smile on her face, her rounded cheeks rosy. Even without lipstick, her lips were pink. They curved in a warm smile. “Look at her, Rick. She’s a little treasure.”
He agreed. “I wish her mom could see this. Glenda’s work keeps her busy, and sometimes I feel she pays little attention to Carly. I hope she doesn’t notice.” He lowered his head and faced his own weakness. “And sometimes I don’t think I’m much better.”
“Come on, Rick. You’re a loving person, and you dote on her when you talk about her.”
“I know. I love her more than I can say, but sometimes I’m at a loss. I never would have thought to let her select flowers for a garden or help plant them. It’s something a mother thinks about, I guess. Watching you, I feel inadequate.”
“Stop thinking like that. You’re creative. At Carly’s age, she’s learning all the time, and you can help teach her things she’ll remember always.”
“You’re giving me more credit than I deserve, but thanks. I hope you’re right.” He touched her arm, feeling her soft skin beneath his fingers. “I’m definitely learning from you.”
She gave a head shake and shifted her gaze to Carly, who’d begun to fill the flat with thoughtful choices.
“Angie.” He drew in a breath, not wanting to ruin the moment or the day. “You’d make a wonderful mother. I really can’t understand why some man hasn’t snapped you up before now.” The only thing that made him know she’d heard him was the expression on her face.
Her brow furrowed a moment before softening. “To be honest, Rick, I was never asked.”
He drew back, unable to grasp what she’d said. “You’re kidding. That can’t be.”
“But it is. I don’t tell people this. Once I thought I’d found my true love, but...” She shook her head. “It wasn’t meant to be, and after I looked back on it, I realized it would have been a mistake. I’ve never been open enough to arouse a man’s interest, since...since—”
“It was the motorcycle guy, wasn’t it?” He recalled the impact the man’s death had on her.
She nodded. “We were too different. He knew better than I did. I still thought he’d ask me, but he was killed before he might have.” She gave him a feeble grin. “But the ‘might have’ is unlikely. He loved his bike, camping and hanging out with the guys and their girls. That wasn’t me.”
“Then what was the attraction?” The image bogged in his mind. The picture she painted wasn’t the Angie he knew.
“I think it was the unknown, the surprise and unfamiliar. I was pretty straightforward. Raised to get an education and a good job. Do all the right things. Go to church. He lived on the edge, and I wished I could be more like that, but...”
“But it doesn’t suit you.” Angie had become a woman he admired, one who would be a wonderful mother and a loving wife, a wife who would pitch in and work toward their mutual dreams.
Dreams. The word stopped him. His dream, not hers, and he’d already warned himself. His heart sank.
“It didn’t suit me. Not at all. When I really thought about the lifestyle, it frightened me. Still, I wanted to do something to stimulate my very mundane life.”
“And your faith? Are you still a churchgoer?”
She looked away, tension tightening her jaw. “No, I drifted. Too far, I’m afraid.”
He slipped his arm around her shoulders. “It’s never too far or too late, Angie. God’s bigger than that. Your faith is still there. You just put it to sleep for a while, but with sleep comes renewed energy. Faith doesn’t stray too far.”
Angie nodded, her gaze shifting to Carly. “You’ve done a wonderful job with her, Rick.” She strode to Carly’s side and helped her set the flat of flowers on the bottom shelf of the cart. “Now, let’s look for some roses.”
Carly’s eyes widened. “Roses smell pretty, but they have thorns.”
Rick slipped behind Carly, his hands resting on her shoulders. “Sometimes beautiful things have thorns that scare you away, but if you’re really careful, they’re worth all the trouble.” His gaze slipped to Angie, and he sensed she’d caught the analogy. From her expression he’d surprised her as much as his admission surprised him. He caught the handle of the basket. “Which way?”
Angie pointed toward the outside, and when she turned, he followed her. They made their way down the rows and found the roses in an area close to the back of the nursery where many kinds and colors were on display. She and Carly studied the plants, and Angie settled on some Knock Out roses, which she said bloomed all summer. Carly picked out some long-stemmed blossoms.
“Good choice, Carly,” he said. Angie signaled him to lift the plants into the cart while she watched Carly study other ones. An expression on her face warned him she had something on her mind.