“Is everything okay, Bridget?”
“Just ducky.”
“That isn’t any kind of an answer.”
“Well, it’s the only one I’ve got right now.”
She threw up her hands. “For heaven’s sake, Bridget, can’t we for once have a civilized conversation?”
She got up off her hands and knees and faced her mother. “You want to know what’s going on? Fine. Leslie is traumatized, Rebecca wants to move back to San Francisco to be with her father and Jack is angry at me for butting into his family’s business. Is that enough information for you?”
“You and Jack had a fight?”
“Yes.” She blinked rapidly, trying to ward off the tears that had threatened to fall ever since she left the ranch. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay.” Mavis rubbed her back soothingly. “Rebecca really wants to go back to San Francisco? I thought she was fitting in here.”
“She misses her father, and even though Ben can barely be bothered to pick up the phone to call her, he’s the hero in her eyes.”
“That sounds rather familiar, doesn’t it?”
“What do you mean?” she said, swiping at a tear with the back of her hand.
“It’s exactly like it was with you at that age. Your father was always your hero even though he never once came to see you or Celia after we left.”
“That was different.”
“How was it different? Neither your father nor Ben took any kind of responsibility for their children.”
“It’s different because you took us away from Daddy and wouldn’t let him see us again. I’ve begged Ben to contact Rebecca.”
“Is that what you think? That I forbade your father from seeing you girls?” Mavis looked genuinely shocked.
“Yes, he told me so.”
“What?”
“That teddy bear that Daddy sent me. There was a note tucked inside his shoe. Daddy said he loved me but he couldn’t see me because you wouldn’t let him.”
“Bridget, that’s not true! I told him he had to shape up before he saw you girls again.”
“It doesn’t matter. He believed you wouldn’t let him see us, whatever he did. That’s why he stayed away. And then he died in that accident and it was too late to ever see him or talk to him again.”
Mavis’s face was lined with sadness. “He knew what I meant. If he’d really wanted to, he could have visited with you girls.”
She shook her head stubbornly, tears threatening. “No, he loved me. He would have come for me if you would have let him.”
“Oh, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” Mavis enveloped her in a hug. “I’ve made so many mistakes with you. Don’t do the same with your daughter.”
She held herself stiff in her mother’s embrace. Dear God, was she really repeating her mother’s mistakes? If she was, how could she justify staying in Paradise one more minute?
* * *
Bridget walked the half mile to Celia’s shop in the cold afternoon sun. By the time she reached the shop her face was numb. But with all the anger and confusion pumping through her veins, she barely noticed the cold.
“Men are idiots,” she blurted as she walked through the door.
Celia turned to face her, her scissors poised over the young man seated in her chair. She grinned.
“You’ll have to forgive my sister, Trent. She tends to speak first and ask questions later.”
He eyed her uncertainly in the mirror. “No problem.”
Her face flamed in embarrassment as she helped herself to coffee. When would she ever learn to keep her big mouth shut?
Celia finished cutting his hair, and he quickly stepped out of the chair and paid for his cut. He gave Bridget one last wary glance before grabbing his jacket and hastily leaving the shop. Celia chuckled.
“You’re not exactly good for business, you know. You’re scaring my customers.”
She groaned. “I’m sorry. I’ve already had two fights today. I really don’t want to try for a third.”
Celia stopped sweeping Trent’s hair from the floor to look at her. “Two fights? What’s going on?”
Taking a deep breath, she told her sister about the fight she’d had with Jack. “He’s totally pigheaded and unreasonable when it comes to Leslie. Why can’t he see that he’s not helping her by doing everything for her?”
“I don’t know, sweetie, but I don’t think that’s a fight you can win. There’s no way he’ll send Leslie to a school away from home.” She swept the hair into a dustpan and deposited it in the garbage. “It sounds like this fight has upset you quite a bit.”
“Of course it has. Leslie was devastated by the bullying at her school and he wants her to forget it ever happened. And then he said...” She shook her head and lowered her gaze, unable to continue.
“What did he say?” Celia asked gently.
She looked up into her sister’s eyes and saw only concern there. “He said I should look out for my own daughter and leave his alone. He said Rebecca had more than enough problems for me to concentrate on.” She closed her eyes. “He’s right.”
Celia sat next to her, draping a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Rebecca’s doing great here. She’s had a couple of setbacks, but she’ll be fine. I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”
“Maybe. But he’s right about one thing. I do need to concentrate on my daughter. She’s adamant about moving back to San Francisco after the school term is over in June. She misses her dad.” She sighed. “Mom says Ben abandoned Rebecca just like our dad abandoned us. That was my second fight of the day.”
“Well,” Celia said carefully. “She has a point. It’s not like our dad ever came to see us after we moved here.”
“If Mom hadn’t moved us here in the first place, we could have been together.”
“It’s not like we went to the ends of the earth, Bridge. Paradise is within driving distance of Minneapolis, and even back then we had a phone. If he’d really wanted to contact us, he could have.”
She stubbornly hung on to her memories of her father. “I can’t believe he would have just abandoned us unless Mom forbade him from seeing us. He was so kind and so sweet.” She closed her eyes and could see her father tossing her in the air and unerringly catching her. “He loved us. I’m sure he did.”
Celia squeezed her shoulder. “I know he did, honey. And if things had been different, we would have been together. You were pretty young. You probably don’t remember how things were.”
“What do you mean?”
“They weren’t happy. They fought a lot. I used to hide at the top of the staircase and listen to them.” She shuddered. “It used to scare me. He was so angry.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Why don’t I remember this?”
“Because Mom did her best to shelter us. Maybe that was the wrong decision.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because all these years you’ve had this ideal image of our father in your head. He definitely wasn’t a saint. He was a very flawed man.”
Bridget wasn’t sure if she wanted to let go of her idealized picture of her father. That image had sustained and comforted her for a long time. If she lost it, would she lose the happy memories she had of her father?
And if she acknowledged that her sister’s view of the past was more accurate than her own, did that mean she could no longer blame her mother for destroying her family?
“So your fight with Jack, was it just over Leslie?”
“Yes, of course. I told you.”
“I’m sorry about your fight.” Celia removed her arm from Bridget’s shoulder and grasped her hand. “Maybe neither of you would have gotten so angry if you didn’t care about each other so much. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
She stared in shocked silence at her sister. Love?
“Just be careful,” Celia continued, a worried frown creasing her forehead. “I don’t know if Jack will ever be ready for anything perma
nent. Victoria burned him pretty badly. And then, I’m not sure he ever got over you the first time.”
She averted her gaze. Her stomach clenched with nervous tension. Perhaps Celia was right. She wasn’t sure she’d ever gotten over him either.
* * *
A few days later Bridget was surprised to see Jack and Leslie at the back door of the upstairs apartment. She and Jack hadn’t spoken since their argument the previous weekend. She’d wanted to phone him numerous times during the week, but had been unsure of her reception. Her heart fluttered in relief and trepidation at the sight of him.
“I took a chance that you and Rebecca would be home,” he said. He looked as if he wasn’t sure how welcome he’d be. “I was hoping we could talk for a minute.”
“Yes, of course.” She took Leslie’s mittened hand and smiled. “Come on in. It’s freezing out there.”
They stepped inside and she closed the door behind them. Jack helped Leslie take off her coat and boots, and she couldn’t help but think that Leslie was more than capable of doing that small task for herself.
Rebecca walked into the living room. Her face lit up when she saw Jack and Leslie.
“Hi! Are you staying for supper?” She looked eager for them to stay. She’d asked several times during the week when she could go out to the ranch again, and Bridget hadn’t known what to tell her.
“We have plenty,” she said quickly. “It’s almost ready. You’re welcome to stay.”
“Thanks, but we can’t.” Jack smiled in regret. “Gladys left us a casserole. Besides, I have to get home to do chores.”
Rebecca looked as disappointed as Bridget felt. “Oh. Okay.”
“Actually, we came to invite you two for dinner tomorrow night. It’s nothing fancy, just chili.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “Do you think you can make it?”
She looked at her daughter’s eager face before turning to smile at him. “We’d love to. Thank you.”
“Rebecca, sleep over at my house,” Leslie said, pulling on Rebecca’s arm. “Please, please.”
“If you stay overnight,” Jack said, “you can help me with the horses in the morning and I can bring you home after lunch.”
“Can I, Mom? Please?” Rebecca was as excited about the prospect of seeing the horses as she was about the sleepover.
“As long as Jack’s okay with you staying, it’s fine with me.”
Rebecca stooped to hug Leslie. “I’ll bring a movie to watch.”
“Goody.”
“Leslie, we have to get going.”
He held out her coat for her and helped her into it, closing the zipper. Leslie slung one arm around his neck for balance while he pulled the boots on to her feet. Bridget bit her tongue, not wanting to air her frustration at his inability to let her dress herself. They’d just come to a small truce and she didn’t want to trigger another round of fighting.
He straightened to his full height and zipped his own coat. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Can I bring anything?”
“No, I’ve got it covered. But thanks.”
He took her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. The gesture lasted only a moment but in that small space of time he communicated his happiness and relief in seeing her again. He stared into her eyes, looking like he wanted to say more, but it was impossible with both girls watching.
“Goodbye,” he said, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Gladys is away tomorrow so I can’t promise gourmet fare, but I usually don’t screw up chili too badly.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
She was surprised by how much she wanted to kiss him. She’d missed him more in the last week than she’d ever thought possible. It wasn’t just the sex, though she couldn’t help longing to be held in his arms once more, and feeling his body meld with hers. She missed talking to him, sparring with him, laughing with him. It had been a very lonely week.
They left a moment later. Bridget pushed aside the curtain on the window of the door to watch them leave. Jack carried Leslie down the outside stairs. The stairs leading to their second floor apartment were wide and sturdy. She had swept off all traces of snow from the stairs so she knew they weren’t slippery. Leslie might be a little awkward but she was capable of descending the steps on her own, maybe with Jack holding her hand to steady her. Why did he feel compelled to treat her like an infant?
When she let the curtain fall back into place and turned around, her daughter was watching her closely. She raised her eyebrows.
“What?”
“Why was Jack holding your hand?”
Her question caught her off guard. “Because we like each other.”
“He looked like he really liked you.” Rebecca frowned. “Don’t you miss Daddy at all?”
“Rebecca,” she said wearily, “I’ve told you before. Your dad and I are not getting back together.”
“Maybe when we go back home and you see Dad again you’ll change your mind,” she insisted. “Maybe you’ll want us to be a family again.”
“That’s not going to happen, honey.” She’d tried to tell her daughter this many times before but it didn’t seem to sink in. Maybe it was time for some hard truths. “Your dad is with someone else. We don’t love each other anymore.”
“I miss Dad,” Rebecca said. Her eyes filled with tears, but she held them back, swallowing hard. “I can hardly wait to go back to San Francisco when school’s out.”
“Have you thought about staying here in Paradise on a permanent basis?” Bridget asked carefully. She hurried on when Rebecca’s eyes went wide with surprise. “You can visit your dad every chance you have and you know you can call him anytime. He’s welcome to come here as well.”
“Are you saying that we’re not going home when school’s out?” Rebecca said in disbelief. “You promised me! You said this was only for a few months.”
“I know, but things have changed. I’ve reconnected with my sister. Don’t you like getting to know your cousins?”
“You want to stay because of Jack,” Rebecca accused. “That’s why you don’t want to go back to Daddy.”
She didn’t bother to point out that Ben had long since moved on, and even if she had been so delusional as to think they could get together again, he wouldn’t want her. Anger for her ex-husband flared in her heart. Why was she the bad guy in Rebecca’s eyes when it was Ben who had deserted them in the first place?
“I like Jack, yes, but I think you do too. He’s been very good to you, Rebecca.”
She made no comment. Instead, she turned on her heel and went to her room, slamming the door behind her. Bridget sighed and went back into the kitchen to check on a dinner she didn’t know if anyone would eat.
She wished with all her heart that her daughter could accept that her parents would never be together again. But then, she hadn’t accepted her parents’ divorce when she was Rebecca’s age either. And if she was honest with herself, she had never accepted the fact that her father was gone from her life. Until his death in a car accident when she was sixteen, she’d held out the hope that he’d return someday and be welcomed back into the family. His death had only fueled her anger with her mother.
She groaned. Like mother like daughter. Would she have to endure her daughter’s anger and disappointment for the rest of her life?
Chapter Nineteen
“Knock, knock,” Leslie said with a giggle.
“Who’s there?” Rebecca answered.
“I-8.”
“I-8 who?”
“I-8 lunch. Is dinner ready?”
She laughed uproariously at her own silly joke, while Rebecca and Bridget groaned. Jack smiled to himself. After the events of the last few weeks, it was wonderful to hear her laugh again.
“I know another one!” she said. “Knock, knock.”
“Who’s there?” Rebecca said.
“Bacon.”
“Bacon who?”
“Bacon a cake for your birthday!”
Re
becca grabbed Leslie with one hand and tickled her with the other, making her squeal with delight.
“I’ve got one for you,” she said. “Knock, knock.”
“Who’s there?” Leslie giggled.
“Dewey.”
“Dewey who?”
“Dewey have to keep telling these knock-knock jokes?”
Both girls collapsed in giggles. Jack exchanged a glance with Bridget. In her eyes he read her happiness for the girls, her joy at being together again. He was sure his own expression mirrored that happiness. The house had felt empty and cold the past week without Bridget and Rebecca. Although he’d been busy with work and had made a point of being around people, he’d never felt more lonely in his life.
It wasn’t an emotion he cared to repeat. Nor did want to examine his feelings too closely.
He set the steaming pot of chili on the table, then stood back to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything for dinner. He smiled as he watched Bridget and Rebecca set the table, moving around his kitchen with familiar ease. He was suddenly struck by the picture they made. They were the family that belonged in this kitchen. It felt right having them here. This is where they should always be.
Leslie held up her hands. “Daddy, help me wash.”
“Okay, Sunshine. Let’s go.”
When he emerged from the bathroom with Leslie, he felt Bridget’s eyes on him. She quickly averted her gaze, but not before he caught the look of disappointment on her face. He clenched his jaw in irritation, knowing the cause of her disappointment. So he helped Leslie wash her hands. Big deal. She thought Leslie could do it herself, but he knew she wouldn’t do a thorough job of it. Besides, it was faster if he did it for her.
Bridget would never understand.
How was it he could feel so connected to her one minute and so totally at odds with her the next?
“Let’s eat. Like I said, I usually don’t screw up chili too badly.”
“It smells wonderful,” Bridget said with a smile. “I’m sure it’ll taste great. Besides, I’m so hungry I could eat almost anything. Even your chili.”
He grinned at her, his tension easing at the teasing in her voice. “Gee, thanks.”
Much to his relief, dinner went well. The chili tasted okay and the girls were happy to be together again. Leslie told some more of the corny jokes she’d memorized, and Rebecca regaled them with stories about the kids at school. It was good to laugh with Bridget again. God, how he’d missed her.
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