The Rescue - Nicholas Sparks [86]
Instead he smiled. “You don’t know her as well as I do.”
“Maybe, but remember, my mother went through the same things your mom did. She mourned my father always, but I know she still felt the desire to be loved by someone.”
“Did she date?”
Denise nodded, taking a sip of her Champagne. Shadows flickered across his features.
“After a couple of years, she did. She saw a few men seriously, and there were times I thought I’d have a new stepfather soon, but none of them ever worked out.”
“Did that make you angry? Her dating, I mean?”
“No, not at all. I wanted my mom to be happy.”
Taylor raised an eyebrow before draining the last of his Champagne. “I don’t know if I would have been as mature about it as you were.”
“Maybe not. But your mom’s still young. There may still come a time when it happens.”
Taylor brought the glass to his lap, realizing he’d never even imagined the possibility.
“What about you? Did you think you’d be married by now?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said wryly. “I had it all worked out. Graduate at twenty-two, married by twenty-five, my first child at thirty. It was a great plan, except that absolutely none of it worked out the way I thought it would.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I was,” she admitted, “for a long time. I mean, my mom always had this idea of what my life would be like and never missed the opportunity to remind me. And she meant well, I know she did. She wanted me to learn from her mistakes, and I was willing to do that. But when she died . . . I don’t know. I guess for a while there I forgot everything she’d taught me.”
She stopped, a pensive look on her face.
“Because you got pregnant?” he asked gently.
Denise shook her head. “No, not because I got pregnant, though that was part of it. It was more that after she died, I felt like she wouldn’t be looking over my shoulder all the time, evaluating everything in my life. And of course, she wasn’t, and I took advantage of that. It wasn’t until later that I realized the things my mom said weren’t meant to hold me back, they were for my own benefit so that all my own dreams could come true.”
“We all make mistakes, Denise—”
She held up a hand, cutting him off. “I’m not saying it because I feel sorry for myself now. Like I said, I’m not disappointed anymore. These days, when I think about my mom, I know she’d be proud of the decisions I’ve made over the last five years.”
She hesitated before taking a deep breath. “I think she’d also like you.”
“Because I’m nice to Kyle?”
“No,” she answered. “My mom would like you because you’ve made me happier in the last two weeks than I have been in the last five years.”
Taylor could only stare at her, humbled by the emotion behind her words. She was so honest, so vulnerable, so incredibly beautifu . . .
In the glowing candlelight, sitting close, she looked at him squarely, her eyes lit with mystery and compassion, and it was at that moment that Taylor McAden fell in love with Denise Holton.
All the years of wondering exactly what that meant, all the years of loneliness, had led to this place, this here and now. He reached out and took her hand, feeling the softness of her skin as a well of tenderness rose within him.
As he touched her cheek, Denise closed her eyes, willing this memory to last forever. She knew intuitively the meaning of Taylor’s touch, the words he’d left unspoken. Not because she’d come to know him so well. She knew because she’d fallen in love with him at exactly the same time.
In the late evening, moonlight spilled through the bedroom. The air was silver as Taylor lay on the bed, Denise resting her head on his chest. She had turned on the radio, and the faint strains of jazz muted the sounds of their whispers.
Denise lifted her head from his chest, marveling at the naked beauty of his form, seeing at once the man she loved and the blueprint of the young boy she never knew. With guilty pleasure, she recalled the sight of their bodies intertwined in