Page 63 of Hearts Aweigh
S PENCER WISHED YET AGAIN HIS mother would use the cell phone he’d purchased.
How long would it take to locate her on this floating city?
Despite their uneasy history, he didn’t want Daisy to suffer.
If someone was threatening to reveal salacious details from her past, it was his job as her son to protect her.
He entered the art gallery and wound his way around the stand-alone displays. Althea had tipped him off that he might find Daisy here. He spotted her staring at a somewhat decent copy of an impressionist painting.
As he approached, she greeted him with a hopeful smile. “Were you looking for me?”
“I was.” His stomach curdled at discussing his mother’s affair again, but it had to be done. “I wanted to address the blackmail problem. When we get back to Galveston, I plan to hire a private detective.”
“That’s kind but unnecessary.” She turned to the painting. “We caught him last night.”
“What? You caught him? How?”
Her voice held a triumphant note. “Don’t underestimate the Shippers. We discovered that a member of the security team was spying on people through the surveillance cameras. He is currently in the ship’s brig and will be surrendered to the police once we reach port.”
Spencer ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“How about ‘nice work’?” Although her tone was teasing, her eyes remained guarded.
He lowered his arm. “Nice work, Dai—I mean, nice work, Mom. I’m relieved the man’s been apprehended and you’re safe.”
She relaxed. “Thank you, Spencer. Would”—she toyed with the timepiece hanging from her neck—“would you care to take a stroll?”
He inclined his head. “Yes, thank you.”
They walked side by side to the exit. A balmy breeze met them at the door.
The pedestrian traffic grew lighter the farther they walked down the deck.
He and Daisy stopped by a railing and stood in silence.
Spencer balked at dredging up the past. But something inside his spirit, or perhaps he should say Some one , urged him to be open.
Unbidden, the strains of an old song entered his thoughts.
“Do you have a favorite hymn?” he asked.
“Hymn?” Daisy turned. “It may sound unoriginal, but I’ve always been partial to ‘Amazing Grace.’” Her head tilted. “Why do you ask?”
He ran a hand along the railing. “When I was a little boy, hymns seemed stuffy and outdated, but I’ve recently found comfort in the old songs. Especially ‘Just as I Am.’”
His mother sang the first line in a sweet, airy soprano. “Just as I am, without one plea.” She chuckled. “Do you think it appeals to you because of the legal-sounding language?”
“It could be.” Spencer laughed. “But there’s another reason.” He drew a bracing breath of salty air into his lungs. “For so many years, I strived to achieve that elusive image of perfection, and I always fell short. But when I came to God, I realized he takes me just as I am.”
Daisy laid a quivering hand over his. “It’s all my fault. I should have tried harder to protect you.” She wiped her eyes. “I’m so sorry. But I know it’s not enough.”
He rested his hand on hers. “It’s in the past. We’ve both found a better way of living now.”
She took a tentative step his way, then gathered him close. He honestly couldn’t recall the last time his mother hugged him. Her petite frame shuddered as healing flowed through an embrace that was decades overdue. Spencer wished they could stay that way. But there was one more issue to address.
“About your past affair.”
Daisy flinched and pulled away.
“I mean to say, in regard to the indiscretion you mentioned”—he reached out to her—“none of us are perfect. We all need God’s grace, so who am I to judge?” He swallowed. “However, if you require some sort of forgiveness from me, you have it.”
His entire body sagged. He’d gotten the words past his lips.
“Thank you, Spencer,” she murmured. “With your forgiveness, I think I can move on. For too long, I’ve been living like I just left a funeral.”
He studied her black silk blouse and matching pants, and his lips quirked. “Your attire doesn’t exactly complement the surroundings.”
She tugged his sleeve. “It’s time we both cleaned out our closets. This time let’s choose without considering anyone’s opinion but God’s.”
Her words felt like a benediction. Permission to live his life without worry or care for what others said. As they often did, his thoughts swerved to a certain redhead.
He agreed with his mother. A whole new world of happiness awaited, and Abby was the key to getting there. She was a gift straight from a loving Creator in heaven.
He’d almost lost her once. But he’d never make that mistake again.