Her Kind of Man: Navy Husband / A Man Apart / Second-Chance Hero. Debbie Macomber
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right.” Shana was grateful Adam had taken it upon himself to explain this. Jazmine would accept it more readily coming from him.
“He also said I’m concerning myself with matters that aren’t any of my business.”
“Exactly.” Obviously Adam had been very forthright during his version of the “little talk.”
“I promised him I wouldn’t try matching you up with other men.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Shana said solemnly.
Jazmine sighed again. “I wouldn’t like it if you went around talking to boys about me.”
That was exactly how Shana had planned to approach the subject herself. “Did Adam make that comparison?”
Her niece nodded. “He said it on the drive back.”
“He’s smarter than he looks,” Shana muttered. Then, because she felt her niece should know this, she added, “A man and a woman can be friends without being romantically involved, Jazmine. It’s called a platonic relationship.”
The phone rang then, and without waiting for a second ring, Jazmine leaped like a gazelle into the other room. She ripped the receiver off the wall. “Hello,” she said urgently. “No, she’s here, you have the right number.” Jazmine held out the phone. “It’s for you.”
Shana started to ask who it was, but didn’t. Taking the receiver, she raised it to her ear. “This is Shana.”
“Shana. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to hear the sound of your voice.”
For the first time in her life, Shana’s knees felt as if they were about to buckle. It was Brad.
“Hello, Brad,” she said evenly, amazed at her ability to respond without emotion. The man had guts; she’d say that for him. “How’d you find me?” she asked coolly.
“It wasn’t easy. It’s taken me weeks.”
She supposed she should be complimented that he’d made the effort, but she wasn’t. “I don’t mean to be rude, but there was a reason I kept my number unlisted.”
“The least you can do is listen to what I have to say,” he told her.
“Everything’s been said.”
“But Shana—”
“There’s nothing more to say,” she insisted.
“At least give me your address. I can’t believe you’re living in Washington. Did you get a transfer?”
“That’s nothing to do with you.”
Jazmine was watching her carefully, eyes wide and quizzical as if she was hoping to memorize each word so she could repeat it.
“I would prefer if you didn’t phone me again.” Shana was prepared to cut him off, but he stopped her, obviously guessing her intentions.
“Don’t hang up,” he pleaded. “Please, Shana, just hear me out.”
“It won’t do any good.” She’d gone ramrod-straight, her resistance up. She didn’t even find this difficult, although she had to admit she was mildly curious as to why he’d sought her out.
“I don’t care. I need to get this off my chest. Just promise me you’ll listen.”
She didn’t want to encourage him with a response.
He continued despite that. “You told me you were leaving Portland, but I didn’t believe you. Shana, I miss you. I need you. Nothing is the same without you. I feel so empty. You have no idea how awful it’s been for me.”
That was their problem in a nutshell. The entire relationship had revolved around Brad Moore and his needs. He missed her, he needed her. She was convenient, loyal and endlessly patient. Well, no more.
She rolled her eyes and made a circular motion with her hand as though to hurry him along.
Jazmine planted her hand over her mouth to smother her giggles.
“Are you listening?” he asked, finishing up a fiveminute soliloquy about how much he missed all their special times. Translation: all the “special” times when she’d been there to see to his comfort. He recounted the little ways she’d indulged him—the meals she’d cooked according to his likes and dislikes, the movies she’d watched because he’d chosen them, the Christmas shopping she’d done for him…Not once did he say any of the things that might have changed her mind, including the fact that he loved her.
So far, everything he’d said reaffirmed her belief that she’d made the right decision. It would always be about Brad and what he needed from her and how important she was to his comfort. Apparently Sylvia wasn’t nearly as accommodating as Shana.
Finally she couldn’t take it any longer.
“Are you finished yet?” she asked and yawned rudely to signal her boredom.
Her question was followed by a short silence. “You’ve changed, Shana.”
“Yes,” she told him in a curt voice. “Yes, I have.”
“I can’t believe you don’t love me anymore.”
Shana noticed he hadn’t even bothered to ask about the girl who’d answered the phone.
Brad seemed shocked that she wasn’t ready to race back into his arms just because he’d made an effort to find her. A short while ago, she’d been grateful for each little crumb he’d tossed her way. Those days were over. Oh, this felt good. She felt good.
“What’s happened to my sweet Shana?” he asked. “This isn’t like you.”
“I woke up,” she informed him, “and I didn’t respect the woman I’d become. It was time to clean house. Out with the old and in with the new.”
The line went silent as he absorbed this. “You’re dating someone else, aren’t you?”
The temptation to let him believe that was strong, and she might have given in to it, if not for Jazmine. With her niece listening to every word, Shana felt honorbound to tell the truth.
“It’s just like you to think that, but no, I’m not seeing anyone else.” She bit back the words to tell him she could if she wanted to. Well, there was that single father who might’ve been interested—and Adam Kennedy.
His relief was instantaneous. “You’ll always love me…”
“No,” she said firmly. “I won’t. I don’t. Not anymore. For your sake and mine, please don’t call me again.”
He started to argue, but Shana wasn’t willing to listen. She should’ve hung up the phone long before, but some perverse satisfaction had kept her on the line.
As she replaced the receiver, she looked over at Jazmine. Her niece gave a loud triumphant shout. “Way to go, Aunt Shana!”
They exchanged high fives. Shana felt exuberant and then guilty for not experiencing even the slightest disappointment. She was actually grateful Brad had phoned because this conversation had provided complete and final proof that she’d reclaimed her own life.
“Can I tell Uncle Adam about this?” Jazmine asked happily.
“Adam?” Her suspicions immediately rose to the surface. “Whatever for?”
“Because,” Jazmine replied as if it should be obvious. “He should know that you really are over Brad. The door’s open, isn’t it? I mean, you’re cured.”
Shana liked the analogy. “I am cured, but let’s just keep this between us for now, okay?”
Jazmine frowned. “If you say so,” she said without enthusiasm.
The kid was certainly eager to get her