Cocky Senator's Daughter: Hannah Cocker (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 8)
Page 28
Justin Cocker didn’t know we were recording this.
He’d dirtied himself up and wore filthy clothes and shoes with holes in them.
He stayed two whole weeks and never asked for special privileges.
He never even revealed who he really was.
Not even when he left.
Free coats, socks and tampons have been arriving ever since for new ‘guests,’ all from his office address.
“What is it?” my father mutters from behind The New York Times.
“We have a problem.”
Lowering his paper, grey eyebrows knit together. “What problem?”
“Look,” I go to show him the video, but he waves me away.
“Just tell me what it is. I hate those things.”
Taking a deep breath, I stare at my screen again, the video now finished and ready for replay. It’s gone viral even though it was uploaded only yesterday from some guy with no subscribers to his channel. People are passing this out from sheer, organic interest.
“Someone videoed sections of a two-week stint at a homeless shelter in the southwest section of Atlanta where Justin disguised his identity and pretended he was one of them.”
My father blankly stares at me. “Now why would he do a stupid thing like that?”
I explain, “The only way to know what they really needed was to live like they did.”
“Well, that’s just great,” he grumbles, defensively. “I don’t know what that has to do with me.”
“It makes Justin look very good. Like he walks the talk.”
In a burst of fury Dad balls up the newspaper and throws it at a wall. I clamp my mouth shut. He huffs and paces over to stare out his hotel window at the river view. With his hand on the frame he mutters, “I’m not ready to retire.”
“Dad,” I whisper, rising to go to him.
He raises his hand, stopping me from coming closer. “I don’t need to be consoled. I haven’t lost yet.”
“I know, Dad, I was just going to…okay, fine.”
After shaking his head a long while, he rasps, “Do you think I’m out of touch with the people?”
I do think he has lost touch with them, but he’s my father and loyalty won’t let me kick him when he’s down. “You’re going to have to be the judge of this one for yourself.”
With his eyes locked on the future, he mutters, “I believe I know what they need more than they do.”
I can tell by his tone he doesn’t truly think that anymore. He did when we began this campaign trail. Justin has opened my father’s eyes, the same as he’s opened the people’s.
“Are you ready to deliver your speech? I can call for the car to be downstairs waiting for us.”
He nods, his profile strong and somber.
As I dial, he murmurs almost inaudibly, “Thank you, Jaimie. For being here with me. I had a feeling I’d need you here.”
Emotion constricts my throat. “Of course. I’ve got to brush my teeth, so I’m going back to my room. I’ll see you down there.”
Rushing out I struggle against tears, making quick strides down the hotel hallway as I tell the driver we’re ready to go.
A daughter needs her father. I know that truth more than most people do, because I didn’t have one. Not really. After my parents split I saw him maybe two times a year, not the lucky every-other-weekend most kids get. And there’s a hole in my heart from it.
A father helps you feel safe. He teaches you you’re loved and cared for, and he designs the patchwork quilt of all your future relationships with the opposite sex, by how he treats you.
I’ve always felt stunted in matters of the heart. I never once believed it when a boyfriend said he loved me. I couldn’t take them seriously. I’d never felt loved by my dad so I always thought men couldn’t love. I thought they were incapable of it. Because how can you not love your own daughter?
But these months we’ve spent together have shown me my father does care. He just never knew how to show me. He’s stoic and an intellectual. He probably had no idea how to relate to a child, especially a girl who looked so much like the woman who hated him.
I’ll never know why he wasn’t able to be the daddy I needed. I know my grandfather was a violent man. Maybe Dad never learned how to be loving as a result.
But this year has been different. He’s reaching out to me, and I’m trying like hell to let him into my heart. It seems from the tears threatening to fall that he just got in there.
I can’t believe what he just said to me. And what it means. So that’s the real reason why he asked me to come to Atlanta. He’s scared. My father is scared of growing old and becoming irrelevant. He wanted his daughter closer to him, and he didn’t know how to tell me. So he did the one thing he knew — business. He hired me to be here.
It’s so sad it’s almost adorable.
I left Boston because my father needed me.
I just didn’t know how much.
Justin
My phone has been blowing up all morning. To stay focused I’ve ignored it, but when we’ve almost arrived at the auditorium my secretary’s name lights up the screen for the third fucking time. That’s not a good sign. Is something wrong with the event? Did they move it and I’m driving in the wrong direction?
Staring out at Savannah blurring past my tinted window I swipe to answer, “Yes, Mary.”
“Mr. Cocker, I’m sorry but something has happened, sir. I’m not sure how to tell you this.”
I snap upright as my heart stops. “Who is it? What happened? Why haven’t my parents called to tell me? Are they hurt?”
“No, sir. Oh, I don’t know how to say it!”
“Just spit it out, Mary!”
“Mr. Cocker, there was a woman…”
“Yes? What is it?!”
“…who claims to have had your child.”
My lungs close and I croak, “What?!”
“Five years ago, sir.”
“WHAT?!! Who the fuck is she?”
“Tanny Walters?”
My brain swims around Tanny’s smiling face. I remember Tanny well. She was a waitress at The Vortex I hooked up with more than a few times. A fun girl. Nuts about me but not in an ugly, desperate way. Which is why I’m even more confused than ever.
“What?! That makes no sense! Why is she pulling this shit now?” With a malicious laugh I mutter, “She doesn’t know me very well if she thinks she can sabotage me with this bullshit. Have you told my family?”
“I haven’t told anyone, sir!”
“Does she want to blackmail me?”
“No, sir, she’s been in an accident, Mr. Cocker. Tanny died two days ago.”
I sway as the car parks outside where I’m giving my speech. Stunned, my anger softens into confusion. “She’s dead? Tanny died?”
“Sir, the grandmother, Tanny’s mother that is, she wants to…oh, I don’t know how to tell you so I’ll just spit out and be done with it. She wants you to take the child.”
“Me?!!” I explode. “She wants me to take the child?! Are you fucking kidding me!?!” The driver locks eyes with me in the rearview mirror. I wave to him to hold on a minute. “What the fuck is she thinking?”
“Sir, the woman isn’t well. They live in Savannah. She’s coming to see you.”
“She’s what?! How the hell did she know I was here?” Then I remember Jaimie’s it’s not hard to Google. “She searched my events, didn’t she? The crazy old bat searched me.”
“She’s not crazy, Mr. Cocker. She’s stage four with pancreatic cancer.”
Stunned, I slump back in my seat, staring blankly at memories, as the enormity of what I’ve just been told sinks in. I know this type of cancer all too well. Grandmother Lucy, my mom’s mother, had it. She died three weeks after diagnosis and we never even got to say goodbye. We all thought she had more time. But they never diagnose pancreatic cancer until it’s almost the end. It always seems like it’s something else before the doctors realize.
T
he back of the car starts spinning around me. “Okay, Mary. Thank you.” I hang up while she’s still talking. Dialing Jason immediately comes entirely out of instinct. I’m numb and disoriented. Can barely think.
“Justin! Hey, I was just thinking about you. Everything okay? I had this weird feeling.”
“I need you, Jason,” I choke. “Can you come to Savannah?”
His voice drops to a lower register. “Yes. I’ll come right now.”
“I’m staying at The Bohemian. Just say you forgot the key. They’ll think you’re me.”
“Okay,” he says. “But it’ll take me four hours to drive there.”
“I know that.”
“Your speech will be over.”
“It’s not about my speech or my campaign. I…oh fuck, Jase. Just come. I’ll explain when you get here. Please hurry. Get a speeding ticket if you have to. I’ll pay for it.”
“Fuck off. If I get one I’ll pay for it. I’m on my way. I’ll make it in three hours if I can.” The line goes dead and I nod to the driver that I’m ready.
Inside, everything is moving slower. People blur together and then it shifts to where it’s like I have double vision.
“This way, Mr. Cocker.” In shock I follow the event administrators toward backstage.
Jaimie and her father have already arrived.
She and I lock eyes for a brief moment.
Her frown deepens as she sees an expression on my face she doesn’t understand.
A man introduces himself with an apologetic tone, his voice lowered for privacy. “Your daughter is waiting in the green room, sir.”
I nearly pass out at the words. My what? This isn’t real. I’m going to wake up any second in my bed and start the day over.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any offense when I told her nanny you weren’t available to answer questions until after the speeches were done. It was stupid of me. I should have recognized her! She looks so much like you, sir. I told them to eat whatever they like.”
“Show me,” I choke.
“Right in there.” He points to a nondescript door, and disappears.
Walking toward it my world grows small. I reach for the vibrating silver doorknob and slowly turn it. Inside, standing nervously in the middle of a clean room with a long table set up for snacks to her left, is a woman over sixty with legs so skinny they shouldn’t be able to hold her. Her skin is jaundiced from cancer and she’s holding the hand of a beautiful little girl who is the female version of Jason and I when we were five. Straight, white-blonde hair that falls past her shoulders is neatly combed. She’s in tiny jeans, a yellow t-shirt and sneakers. In her hands is a pink alien that used to be fuzzy. She sniffles, nose and eyes red from crying.
Fresh tears fall down the grandmother’s cheeks as she begins, “Mr. Cocker, I’m Claire Walters. I’m so sorry. I asked them not to tell you we were here until after your speech. But that man was so embarrassed and he kept blabbering on. I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I know it’s a big day! I’m so sorry.”
I can’t take my eyes off the child. “What do you want?”
“Well, I…I’ve just lost my daughter, Tanny. Do you remember her?”
Meeting the woman’s eyes, I hoarsely admit, “Of course. I liked Tanny very much. I’m sorry for your loss.”
She digs in her tan purse for a tissue, and wipes her eyes with it. “You heard.”
“My secretary called me.”
“Did she tell you why I’m here?”
“Yes,” I croak. “But I think you made a mistake. First I have to know, how did it happen?”
“She was leaving the restaurant where she works, to come home. But she parked across the street because it was free. She didn’t look both ways! She was wearing her black uniform. They didn’t see her.” Her face crumbles and she starts to sob. “They didn’t see my Tanny,” she whispers, covering her face.
The little girl sniffles and my body starts shaking as I realize she knows her mother is gone. That’s why she’s been crying, not because she’s scared she’s about to be given to the devil. I kneel down in front of her. “What’s your name?”
Tightening the alien doll against her chest she whispers in the cutest voice, “Hannah.”
“Hi Hannah,” I whisper, unable to believe this isn’t some sort of nightmare. “Uh…I’m Justin. Do you know who I am?”
She nods, which almost knocks me over. I stand up and face the grandmother. “How is this possible? Why wasn’t I told?”
“She was afraid you would think she got pregnant on purpose. My daughter was a proud woman, and she would never have done something like that.”
“But maybe I wanted to know.”
Claire Walters pauses with doubt in her eyes. “She said you didn’t want to be a….” She glances to Hannah and lets the word ‘father’ stay silent.
She knew I didn’t want to be a dad.
Holy shit.
This is my fault.
Claire continues, “I’m sure you’ll want to have tests done. I don’t blame you. But she insisted you were the only man she’d been with for a very long time. I suppose it’s okay to tell you now that my daughter was secretly in love with you.”
I close my eyes as an invisible fist punches me in the chest.
“Mr. Cocker, you don’t have to, but I wanted to give you the option. I thought it was only right. Hannah’s such a good girl.” She squeezes her granddaughter’s hand and they look at each other, both of them red-eyed. “So smart! I have a sister who I don’t talk to anymore, but she might be willing to take Hannah. You see, I’m sick.”
“Mary told me. I’m familiar with what you have, and I’m sorry. You’ve been through more than any person should be.”
“I just think Hannah should be with someone in her immediate family. I’m the only one left…besides you. I know it’s a lot to accept so quickly. But I had to try.”
“Why don’t you talk to your sister anymore?”
Her eyes drift off as she explains, “Enid has always been a little hard. We don’t see eye to eye. I’m an artist. A painter. She never understood such things, called them frivolous. Rather set in her ways.” She locks eyes with me. “She’s from another age, my sister. But she wouldn’t turn her back. I know she wouldn’t.”
Will I? Will I turn my back now that I know?
It’d be so easy just to give Enid a call.
I pull up my suit pants and squat in front of Hannah. She’s unafraid of me, gazing back with pale green eyes so like my own. Her little mouth is squished shut as she waits for me to decide.
An event staffer pokes her head inside. “They’re ready for you, Mr. Cocker.”
Justin
An odd sense of calm transforms me. “I’ll be right out.” They nod and disappear. Turning my head back to Hannah I offer a smile. Nothing big or fake. I don’t see the point in treating children as idiots. “So you know I’m your father?”
She nods.
“Do you know what that word means?”
“Some of my friends have fathers.”
My eyes close as pain stabs me. I glance up at Claire who explains with compassion, “She’s just started Kindergarten.”
“I see.” So she’s felt the loss of not having me there when she saw other children with their dads. I’m sure she asked Tanny about it. What story was told to her?
I have only myself to blame for this. I can imagine what I would have said back then if Tanny had come to me. It wouldn’t have been pretty.
I clear my throat and take the leap. “Hannah, would you like to come live with me?”
Unsure, she looks up at her grandma who squeezes her hand. “I have to go back to the hospital, honey. You can trust him. Justin is a good man.”
Inwardly I cringe but keep my face unreadable as innocent eyes come to rest on me again.
I offer her my hand, palm out between us. “Hannah, I am truly sorry we’re only meeting today, for the first time. But I want to be there for you now, if yo
u’ll let me.”
She lays miniature fingers onto my hand. “Thank you.” Lifting her into my arms, I rest her on my hip to tell Claire. “Follow me, please.”
As we slowly walk out of the green room I motion to a staffer. “Do you have any wheelchairs here?”
“We do.”
“Bring her one immediately.” Guiding Claire to the side of the stage I explain, “Mrs. Walters, you can watch from here.”
Her eyes dart to her granddaughter, wondering if I’m going to set her down. I’m not.
Senator Rothdale is talking to staffers, but his daughter is staring at me with parted lips. From her expression I know Jaimie’s thinking I’m pulling a stunt to address our treatment of the elderly and maybe even education for our children, that these two are here for a campaign strategy. She has no idea what’s really going on.
I nod to her, and turn away.
The announcer’s voice introduces me and I step out to applause, little Hannah on my hip. Kids are heavier than they look. I nod to the large crowd. At the podium I lean into the mic, our faces lit up by a spotlight as cameras flash and phones are held up by dozens of hands, recording video of today’s important event.
“Hello Savannah!” They all cheer. I wait for them to settle, my mind racing. “This speech is completely unplanned and unprepared so forgive me if it comes out less than perfectly. But I’ll be as clear as I can, because I’ve been telling you for months that I have your best interests at heart and that I want to be your Senator. That I want to create changes aligned with our current needs, and how it is I plan to do that. I’ve also said that family values are very much a part of my vision, as they should be.” Pausing I scan unfamiliar faces, the silence deafening as they wait for me to say more. “I have also told you I am like you. And I am. I am as flawed as every man is. Some of you may know from the media that I’m a slut.” The crowd starts tittering before bigger laughter sets in.
Some are shocked and unimpressed.
But they aren’t here for me anyway.
They’re here for Rothdale.
“Yes, it’s funny,” I smile. “But I’m not kidding. I owe you the truth. And I owe her the truth.”