A Dream of His Own. Gail Martin Gaymer
Читать онлайн книгу.
stopped thinking of Quinn since she’d said goodbye at the body shop. Was it his generosity? Or was it unanswered questions? Warmth spread through her as the truth became clear. An unexpected attraction had drawn her to the man, but a man would only complicate her life. Even a friendship wouldn’t work.
The chair rattled, drawing her back from her thoughts. Kelsey and Ross Salburg slipped into the chairs beside her. Ava gave them a smile, still amazed to see that a number of faithful men had joined the organization after the women voted to become POSK, a parents’ organization. Ross had initiated the change with his desire to be part of the support group.
“Today before we do our sharing, Ross Salburg would like to say a word.” Shirley beckoned to him.
Ross rose and strode to the front. As always, his smile brightened the room. “Ethan Fox couldn’t be here today, and his wife, Lexie—” he swung his arm toward her “—suggested I deliver his news about the Dreams Come True Foundation. So here I am.”
Titters scattered the room.
“Ethan and I were talking about our kids. All of them doing well, by the way.” Rousing applause halted his presentation. “Thanks.” He gave a nod. “Anyway, Ethan asked me to remind you of the opportunity you have to bring one of your children’s wishes to life at no cost to you. Our kids have suffered with their illnesses a long time, and this organization offers them a very special experience. A dream trip for the whole family. Meeting one of your child’s favorite heroes. Even something as simple as spending the day with a fireman and riding in the fire truck. The anonymous donor of these funds recently added a healthy contribution so we want to let others in the community know about this great opportunity. Please spread the word. This fund is available to the special kids in all of South Oakland County.”
“Ross?”
His head snapped to the right. “Maggie?”
“Is this foundation really from a single donor?”
Ava chuckled. She knew the answer.
“Yes. One person.” Ross sent a grin to his wife, Kelsey.
Maggie raised her hand again. “Do we know who it is?”
Ava sputtered at the question. She, too, had been insistent on knowing who it was, but the secret remained. Ethan Fox would be the logical person to know all the details since he represented the Dreams Come True Foundation, but he denied knowing and remained mum.
Ross reiterated the details of the donor for the sake of the newer members, but not knowing the name of the donor still drew everyone’s curiosity as it did hers. Members often speculated. She’d done it herself. The reason why the donor remained anonymous was always her next unspoken question.
While Ross returned to his seat, Kelsey leaned over and asked Ava about her car. Her red sedan must stick out in the crowd of cars outside, because she didn’t expect both of her friends to notice it was missing. She whispered minimal details about the accident and when the meeting concluded, Kelsey had already told Ross. Both stood beside her asking a multitude of questions. She chuckled to herself. If they kept being so insistent, they would certainly steal her “inquisitor” title.
Kelsey gave Ross a poke. “Was the guy nice?”
The memory rushed over her. “Yes. Very.”
“Good-looking?”
The sensation turned to heat. “I’d say so.” She could say more, but they would only pry with more questions.
Ross grinned. “Did you get his name? His phone number?”
Emotions rattled her as their toying looks made her aware of their thoughts. “Quinn O’Neill, and yes, I have his number.” It burned in her handbag.
“Quinn O’Neill?”
She didn’t like Ross’s expression. “What’s wrong with him? He goes to Lexie’s church.”
He shook his head and chuckled. “Nothing as far as I know, and it’s Kelsey’s and my church, too. I just thought it was a coincidence that he called yesterday about looking at some work he needed done on his home. He lives in an English Tudor not far from the zoo. I think the street is York.”
Ava’s interest piqued. An English Tudor. She loved those gorgeous houses with turrets and all kinds of interesting rooms. An English Tudor would be easy to spot. One of these days, she might take a ride that way.
Her pulse skipped. What in the world had she become? A stalker.
* * *
Quinn checked his watch and noted he had time before his appointment with the contractor. His mind had been on Ava, and he’d hoped she would call about the plumbing, but she hadn’t. He wondered if Randy had given her a loaner. He plopped into his desk chair and hit his keyboard spacebar. The monitor came to life, and he typed “white pages” into the search engine and pulled up the page. His fingers poised over the keys, questioning his motive. Then he swallowed and typed Ava Darnell, Royal Oak, Michigan into the search bar. He clicked the cursor, and her name appeared on Blair in Royal Oak—not only her address and phone number but a detailed map to her house. He studied the details, grabbed a pencil and jotted down the information.
When he leaned back and looked at the notepad, his jaw tightened as he tried to comprehend what he was doing. Since the accident, he relived the sound of crunching metal and the thud. He thanked God the accident had been a simple fender-bender. Fender-denter. Ava’s phrase made him smile.
Her face hung in his thoughts, and the emotions troubled him. Ava heightened his senses. She made his blood course with her insistent questions. She’d whetted his interest. With her, he felt alive rather than embedded in the past as he’d been for the past few years. On top of it all, she was attractive, not model-beautiful but very appealing. Quinn pictured her full lips curving into a fleeting smile and her eyes twinkling with curiosity when she talked. Ava demonstrated pride, and he admired that. He’d upset her with the insurance issue, and she’d finally allowed him to redeem himself.
In addition, he’d offered to help with the plumbing, but again paying a plumber took no effort on his part. He thought it would be a nice way to make life a little easier for her. She had a sick son. The knowledge humbled him. How would he have reacted if Sean had been diagnosed with a horrible disease? How would he have coped if Sean had lived through the accident and had become paralyzed or brain-damaged or…? Ava’s strength awed him.
Quinn pushed himself away from the computer and rose. His head pounded with what-ifs. What if he’d taken time to convince Sean he’d let him practice driving later? What if he’d demanded that Lydia not take him on the road? What if he’d agreed to take Sean for the driving lesson?
The questions had assaulted him since the day the police came to his door. The same responses billowed in his mind. If he’d been in the car, his quick action might have saved his son. He had more experience driving. How many times had he veered away from a near-accident by some thoughtless driver wanting to pass on a dangerous stretch of highway. Life was far more precious than saving a few minutes by being reckless.
He stood in his home office and shook his head. Let it go. Let it go. No thoughts or what-ifs could change what had happened. He knew his wife’s wishes. Lydia wanted him to live fully. She’d supported him in every way—his preferences, his career and his dreams. She would want him to move on with his life. Instead he’d run away. He’d sold his tremendous home too filled with memories, left his day-to-day business in his brother’s hands and moved across Michigan to this small town where he was unknown and bought this house.
As Quinn scanned the room, he admitted it needed paint. He’d meant to fix the place when he’d moved in. Instead he’d blended into the beige walls, had run his company from long distance and sank into regret. No more. Change meant moving ahead, and that’s what he wanted to do.
Having purpose for once, he turned off the computer, stepped into the hallway and headed for the kitchen. The late April weather decided to play