I found Lindsey Preston standing by the front door, glancing around nervously, Coach bag draped over her narrow shoulder. My breath caught at the sight of her. By Mama Peg’s puzzled expression, I knew she wondered who exactly she had just let in, while I wondered what.
“Lindsey, what a surprise.” I pulled my hair over my shoulder and walked over to greet her. It had been two weeks since my father had confronted Dr. Preston, revealing Isabella’s existence. I had figured that if David hadn’t staked a claim by now, he wouldn’t. Maybe I was wrong.
Lindsey tucked her hair behind her ear, revealing an emerald stud shimmering from a dainty earlobe. I wondered if David had bought her the earrings and how many other jewels he might have given her over the years.
She glanced at me, then the floor. “What a lovely home.”
Mama Peg raised her bushy brows in my direction.
“Mama Peg, this is Lindsey Preston, David’s . . . Lindsey, this is Mama Peg.”
They exchanged a polite nod.
I addressed my grandmother, who seemed to be a shade grayer than she’d been a moment earlier. “We’ll be out back.”
I offered Lindsey a drink, which she declined, and led her through the house to the back porch. Along the way, she made little comments about the beauty of this piece of furniture or the fragrance of that floral arrangement. Her sweetness soured me all the more.
We stepped outside into a tepid breeze. Four identical white rockers sat in a row on the porch, facing Lucas Lake. The treetops stretched toward the crystalline sky.
The wood porch groaned as we sat. She stared at the lake, clutching the purse resting in her lap. “Wow, what a view. Do you know how lucky you are to look out on this every day?”
Crossing my legs, I followed her line of vision to the mountain ridges. “Lucky, that’s me.” I nodded to the purse she hugged. “I won’t steal it. Promise.”
Her skin flushed. “Oh, I’m not worried about that. I’m just really nervous.” She set the bag by her feet.
“Despite the wallop I gave your husband, I’m really pretty gentle.”
“I hit a guy once.”
My gaze glided over her Olive Oyl physique in disbelief.
“The guy I dated before David. He tried to take what I didn’t want to give.”
Sympathy finally thawed me. “I can’t imagine how horrible that must have been.”
Her eyes grew large. “Oh, gosh, no, nothing like that. He wanted me to give him a twenty. I’d had quite enough of his mooching. I told him to get a job. He grabbed my wallet and started rummaging through it. So I hit him.” She looked away shyly. “The next day his eye was blacker than coal. He lied and told everyone he’d gotten jumped. He lost me, but I let him keep the lie as a consolation prize.”
“What a jerk,” I said, feeling frigid once again. All I could think of as I looked at her was that she spent her nights lying on the love of my life’s chest. Maybe for a better woman that wouldn’t have been an insurmountable obstacle to friendship. It was for me.
Sweet Pea jumped onto the porch and sat at Lindsey’s feet, meowing at her.
She reached out to pet him. “Hey, sweet kitty.”
I wish I could say it didn’t cross my mind not to warn her, but it did. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I said dutifully.
“Why not?” She stroked his fur anyway as he purred and leaned into her touch. After she gave his ear a scratch, she tried to pull her hand back. Sweet Pea clawed her.
She winced and drew back. “Hey!” Her hand had several fresh lines of red streaking across it. She looked at it and scowled at him.
I almost felt bad. “That’s why not,” I said. “Are you okay?”
She rubbed her hand and nodded. “Serves me right, I guess, for not believing you.”
We sat silent for a moment as Lindsey crossed her legs, then uncrossed them. She stared at the lake, opened her mouth to speak, and closed it again.
It was time to put her out of her misery. Unlike her, I had no problem addressing the issue at hand. “I’m guessing that you know about Isabella.”
She drew in a deep breath, her small chest rising and falling as if she needed all the courage the air could provide. “Can I tell you something personal?”
Though there was nothing I wanted less, I nodded, praying she wouldn’t share a Hallmark rendition of how she and David had met and fallen in love.
“I’ve lost two babies in the last five years.”
Surprise struck me. David had told me he never wanted children. I guess he just meant with me. I opened my mouth to say something appropriate, but no words came. The anguish brewing in her eyes told me an “I’m sorry” wouldn’t begin to cover it.
She struggled to maintain eye contact, then gave up and stared at her wedding band instead, twisting it back and forth on her bony finger. “One of my babies made it all the way to the third trimester. His name was Gabriel. Gabriel Matthew Preston. I held him as he took his last breath.”
She closed her eyes and cradled the air. I felt like an intruder, a voyeur of the worst kind, as I watched her grieve her phantom child. David’s son.
“Jenny, he was so tiny. So complete.” When she looked up, her pain seemed to melt into resolve. “The other died in the second trimester. His name was Joseph. Joseph is the patron saint of unborn children. Did you know that?”
I shook my head.
“I gave him that name before I knew that. He was my first.” Tears moved down her face, clearing a path through her blush. She wiped them away, looking embarrassed at her own weakness.
There we were, me not knowing what to say, and her sitting inches, miles, away. After a few moments, the silence became too heavy and I decided to unload it. “You know, Lindsey, this doesn’t seem to be any of my business.”
She looked back at the house. “Can I see her?”
My blood ran cold. “My daughter?”
“When I learned you claimed to have a child by my husband—”
Claimed? “I don’t claim that David is her father. David’s her father.”
“I think I’ll be able to tell for sure by looking at her.”
My face caught fire as I bolted up. “I think you should go. I may be a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them.”
“I’m not saying that you are.” She reached out to touch me.
I jerked away. “Do you want a DNA test?”
She stood, slipping her purse over her shoulder, looking maddeningly calm. Her chair continued to rock as though she still occupied it. “That wouldn’t be a bad idea, Jenny. For her sake.”
I ripped open the door, willing her to walk through it. “Only my friends are allowed to call me Jenny.”
She eyed the open door but made no move toward it. “I think you’re making a mistake. Even if she’s not his, she needs a father. It’s—”
I felt my fingernails dig into my palms as every muscle of my body tensed. “Get out of my house. Isabella is David’s daughter. She’s a beautiful, loving, charming child. And over my dead body will you or David ever get your hands on her.”
A slamming car door sounded from the driveway.
Lindsey turned toward the sound. “That’s David. I asked him to give me a few minutes alone with you before he came back.”
Unsure of what I should do or how I should feel, I put my hand over my mouth and closed my eyes. Maybe when I opened them, this would all be over. They’d be gone.
“Honey,” I heard Lindsey say, “it’s not going well.”
I opened my eyes.
David had rounded the house and was marching toward me like a soldier on his way to battle. His hair hung uncharacteristically tousled, and anger flashed from his eyes. A rush of pain overwhelmed me.
“Thanks for telling me I’m a father.”
Contrition sealed my mouth.
“We want to see her.” It wasn’t a request, but a demand.
“It’s not that easy, David. I’ll need to prepare her for—”
/> “She’s my daughter, right? That’s what you and your father are saying. I have a right to see her if she’s mine.”
He said a lot of things after that, but I heard nothing after if. It was one thing for Lindsey to question it, but David knew the kind of girl I was. He knew I’d been untouched until him. How dare he!
I expected to lose control of my emotions just then. Instead calmness settled over me. “Lindsey, David, thank you for coming. It was good to see you both again. I apologize, but I really need to be excused.”
With that, I walked inside, or tried to. Isabella stood, eyes wide, blocking my entrance. Two gasps rose behind me and I knew David’s paternity would never be questioned again. She was, of course, her father’s spitting image. Even a man as blind as David couldn’t deny it.
Without a word, I took her small hand in mine and led her inside, hoping she hadn’t been standing there long. But when she looked up at me with wonder and joy shining from her sleep-crusted eyes, I knew that she had.
Chapter Fourteen
We sat facing the television—Mama Peg in the chair, Craig on the floor at her feet, Dad alone on the love seat, and I on the couch with Isabella nestled on my lap. While everyone else stared at the screen, I studied the flickering shadows dancing on the walls. I had no desire to watch beautiful people with their whole lives ahead of them competing in a stupid talent competition.
When the phone rang for the second time in five minutes, everyone looked at me expectantly. I glanced at the caller ID, unsurprised to see David’s name once again.
Mama Peg and Craig agreed that I would have to deal with him. The sooner the better. Of course that was easy for them to say. Though my father remained silent on the matter, the sneer he directed at the phone spoke clearly enough.
While Isabella had asked about David countless times since their encounter that afternoon, she didn’t seem to realize he was the person whose calls I was avoiding. Though it was hard to tell sometimes what did or didn’t register with her.
As the phone continued to ring, Isabella leaned into my chest, eyes fixated on a handsome young Latino singing Stevie Wonder’s “My Cherie Amour.” I rubbed a lock of her silky hair as I stared at the screen, pretending to be absorbed.
“Oh, for pity’s sake.” Mama Peg thrust the remote up, muting the show. She turned on the floor lamp beside her, bathing the room in light. “You can’t ignore him forever.”
I buried my face in Isabella’s curls and inhaled the comforting scent of her strawberry shampoo. “I can try.”
Preparing for his evening smoke, my father pressed tobacco into his pipe. “This is between them, Mom.”
She glared daggers at him. “David shouldn’t have to pay for what his father may or may not have done.”
He slapped his pouch of tobacco down on the end table, scattering flecks of brown over the tiled top. “This has nothing to do with that and you know it.”
She spoke between coughs. “I know . . . no such . . . thing.”
The shrill ring of the phone finally fell silent. Relief washed over me . . . until I looked down to see Isabella holding the receiver to her ear, face bright as New York City. My heart pounded as I grabbed it from her and hung up.
“That was my daddy!” she cried.
It rang again. I snatched it up and pressed it against my ear, wincing from more than just the sharp pain of my earring back digging into my neck.
“I want to see her,” David said.
Isabella stared at me with eyes that managed to accuse and plead at the same time. How could I make her understand that he would never be the man either of us needed him to be?
“I’m sorry I reacted the way I did.” Despite his words, his tone held not a hint of remorse.
“Are you?”
“Don’t make this any harder. I screwed up, okay? But, Jenny, you screwed up far worse. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“She’s sitting on my lap listening. Now’s not the time.”
“Time’s running out,” Mama Peg mumbled.
David’s breathing echoed heavy in my ear. “Lindsey wants her to come over and spend time with us.”
My grip tightened on the receiver. “She’s not Lindsey’s daughter—she’s mine.”
“You mean ours.”
“So now you believe me?”
“She looks just like me and you know it.”
Isabella’s heart thumped against me. I stood her up and motioned to Craig. “Would you take her outside?”
He started to push off the floor.
Mama Peg set her shaky hand on his shoulder. “Don’t you dare. This conversation concerns that little girl more than anyone. She has a right to know her father.”
Exasperated, I stood and turned my back on them all. “I’ll let you see her, but it needs to be just you. It’s nice Lindsey’s interested, but Bella should get to know you first.”
“Can she come here?” His tone was softer now, almost pleading.
I cringed at the thought of going back to David’s house and facing once again the perfect life he’d made without me.
“Please?” His tone had descended to the plane of genuine humility.
An overwhelming desire to ask him how it felt to want something he couldn’t have came over me. How delicious it would feel to break his heart for a change.
I opened my mouth to say something that would hurt him as much as he’d hurt me, but something inside me whispered, Look at your daughter.
Slowly I turned around. The light shining up at me from her eyes cast out the darkness that had seeped into my soul. Once again I was reminded that it didn’t matter an iota what I wanted. It was her future at stake, not mine. I held my hand over the receiver and squatted next to her. “Bella, do you want to go to David’s house and spend an afternoon?”
She squealed so loud the windows should have shattered. Dejected, I stood again. “I guess you heard that?”
His laughter sounded as melodic as a hyena’s.
“You can pick her up tomorrow around noon.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them.
Before I could hang up, Isabella flung her arms around my legs. I scanned the faces watching me. The look of approval in Mama Peg’s and Craig’s eyes, combined with the blinding joy shining from my daughter’s, told me I had made the right decision. My aching heart told me something entirely different.
My father grabbed his pipe and stalked out of the room. Seconds later, the back door banged shut.
Isabella’s grin threatened to split her face, which only made me feel worse. What was wrong with me? I was her mother. I should be happy for her.
Mama Peg studied me a moment, then turned to Craig. “Why don’t you read Bella her bedtime story? I think Jenny needs to get some fresh air.” With that, she aimed the remote at the television, filling the room with cheers from the television audience.
Craig stood.
“You don’t have to,” I said, though I hoped he would. Listening to my daughter prattle on about David as I tucked her in was more than I could handle at the moment.
“It’s the least he can do after nearly killing you both,” Mama Peg said flatly, not taking her eyes off the tube.
Craig grabbed the small of his back. “She knows just where to plunge that knife, doesn’t she?”
I shook my head at her sick sense of humor.
He took my hand. “I really am sorry I kept you out in the rain.”
“So you’ve said a hundred times. And like I’ve said, I’m going to get sick whether I dance in the rain or live the rest of my days in a bubble. It was worth it.”
He smiled.
Mama Peg cleared her throat. “Might as well jump out of an airplane without pulling your cord since we’re all going to die someday anyway.”
Craig shook his head as my fingers slipped from his grasp. He turned to Isabella, who sat on the carpet cross-legged, excitedly rocking back and forth. “Let’s go pick out a book, Sleeping Beauty.”
Craig di
sappeared up the stairs with Isabella bouncing at his heels. Mama Peg muted the TV again and turned to me with an expression that suggested a lecture was imminent.
Without giving her the chance to speak, I said, “You were right. I do need some air.” With that, I slipped out the back door to join my father. For once he was bound to be more sympathetic.
As I stepped into warm night air, a chorus of crickets serenaded me. Dad threw a glance my way as he dipped the lighter’s flame into his pipe bowl. He sucked, causing a small ember to brighten and grow.
A plume of smoke wafted my way as I sat. I inhaled the intoxicating mixture of vanilla and apple that tinged his favorite blend.
He rocked back and forth in his chair, speaking around the stem of his pipe. “She’s a good girl.”
“The best thing I ever did,” I agreed.
“That’s just what I used to say about you.”
I eyed him. “Really?”
He pulled the pipe from his mouth. “Don’t act so surprised. You think the love you feel for her your mother and I didn’t feel for you?”
A breeze rattled the azaleas and sent my father’s pipe smoke trailing in the opposite direction. The wind died as my dad leaned his head back on the rocker and blew an oblong ring of smoke into the air. “It doesn’t thrill me to know I’m going to be sharing my granddaughter with that man.”
I feigned interest in my cuticles. “Dr. Preston is more the grandfather type than the cowpa type. Besides, just because she might love him doesn’t mean she’ll stop loving you.” I realized I was speaking more to myself than to him. “You know, Dad, you’re going to need to get along with him for Bella’s sake.”
“I can’t do it, Jenny. He’s the reason your mother’s not sitting here with us.”
I continued to focus on my hands rather than him. “You’re going to need to forgive him.”
“Are you going to let David raise her?”
At last I looked up, relieved to find his eyes fixated on the lake rather than me. “I don’t know. He’s her father. You see how she pines for him.”
I longed for some fatherly wisdom—some truism that might make the pill of losing not only my man to Lindsey, but possibly my daughter as well, easier to swallow. My father took a long drag of his pipe and nodded.