Forever a Father

by Lynne Marshall

  Daniel grimaced, seeing himself in such a dim light. On one hand he wanted to take a chance again. On the other hand, the hurting side, he was still running scared. Why be a moth to a flame?

  Good thing he had appointments up the wazoo and didn’t have another second to think about Keela. Here he wore the mask of a doctor running his own clinic with confidence, even though inside much still needed to be put back together. And he’d thought he’d made progress. Sure, guy.

  The intercom buzzed “Your next patient’s in room two.”

  Grateful for the distraction, he shot out of his swivel chair, heading for the office door.

  * * *

  Keela had too much time on her hands. Anna was already a dynamo on her crutches, and their tiny house had been cleaned within an inch of its life. How many times could they watch the latest animated movies together and not go stir-crazy?

  She also missed Daniel, the good boss turned superhero.

  Lately she’d even started an unwise game of listing all the ways he was different from Ron. Stable, dependable, trustworthy, loyal, kind, sweet. Sexy as hell. Seeing him shirtless had ended any questions about that.

  She blew the hair out of her eyes from bending over the bathroom tile, scrubbing the ugly pink grout within an inch of its chipping and cracking life. She needed to go back to work. Didn’t he get that about her?

  Why let some temporary PT assistant treat the patients when she knew the job backward and forward? Did the guy know where they kept the second TENS machine? Was he keeping the supply cabinet stocked? Did he even know how to order from their vendors? The place was probably falling apart without her. Yet Daniel wouldn’t let her come back.

  Maybe if he saw how much better Anna was, and how desperate Keela was to get back on the job, he’d change his mind about her staying off work another week.

  On her knees, she pulled off the thick yellow rubber gloves and tugged her cell phone out of her jeans’ rear pocket to make the call. “Hi, Daniel.” Her voice echoed off the bathroom walls.

  Admittedly, he sounded surprised and maybe a little hesitant.

  “Anna’s doing great, thanks.” She fiddled with her hair, as if they might be doing FaceTime and she hadn’t thought to comb it. “So, I know you must be crazy-mad busy these days, and probably skipping meals to keep up, so, uh, well, here’s the story. You’re Anna’s hero, and I’d like to invite you for dinner Saturday night. The reason I’m saying Saturday is because I know the clinic’s closed and you might have some extra time on your hands. Of course, who knows, since I’ve been off work, maybe you’ve changed the schedule and added weekend appointments to keep up with all the new 4Cs patients. But of course you still wouldn’t work Saturday evenings, now, would you? So anyway, I thought you might appreciate a home-cooked meal at O’Mara’s pub.” She caught her breath and waited for an answer, fearing the line had gone dead.

  “I would have said yes about ten minutes ago, but you wouldn’t stop talking.” He sounded subdued for the pushy boss she knew, but she skimmed over it.

  She slumped against the cold, pink-tiled wall, wearing a well-earned grin. “Great. Is six okay? Anna likes to eat early.”

  “Sure.” Again, he didn’t exactly sound enthusiastic, just willing. “Tell her I said hello.” Ah, there was the guy she remembered and missed, the one who worried about her daughter. “I’m sorry I haven’t been by.” Why did it feel like years since they’d seen each other?

  “I understand. And will do on the saying-hi part. Do you eat lamb?” She stood and stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, then cringed at how bad her hair looked.

  “Sure. Doesn’t everyone?”

  How could a single phrase make her feel giddy? The man was so Irish. “I’m thinking of making my famous stew.” Gathering confidence, she smiled at herself in the mirror and fiddled with her hair again, tucking one side behind her ear and fluffing the other side. Her stew was anything but famous. Ron had reminded her of that often enough—along with the rest of her cooking. But what did Daniel know? The guy ate lamb!

  “I’m hungry already.” He sounded a bit distracted, probably multitasking, but he was saying all the right things—she’d give him that.

  “Great. Can’t wait to see you!” Oops, that slipped out.

  The phone went quiet, and Keela wondered if by any chance Daniel was sitting at his desk with the same dreamy grin on his face as she had on hers.

  As dangerous as that would be...she sure hoped so.

  “Me, too.”

  * * *

  After accepting her invitation and saying goodbye, Daniel hung up the desk phone and sat staring at it. He’d heard the smile in Keela’s voice, felt her need to be around grown-ups—just him, or would anyone do?—and he dreaded being the one she’d called. He couldn’t very well avoid her forever, but Saturday felt awfully close.

  Moth to flame. The image set in.

  At least he had a few days to prepare. She might think of him as a hero...well, so be it, because he intended to show up on Saturday night wearing full body armor.

  Chapter Four

  Saturday, Daniel knocked on Keela’s front door at 5:30 p.m., then glanced through the fan-shaped glazed glass portion. He’d given himself three different versions of the proverbial pep talk on the short drive over. First, don’t make more out of this than it is. It’s dinner with an employee and her daughter. Second, everything doesn’t have to be a torture test. Third, relax and enjoy yourself. Yet he still tensed beneath the firmly placed body armor.

  Muffled sounds and activity came from inside the cottage as he waited, leaning a hand on the door, watching through the front window. Moving like an Olympic champion in the crutch-walking competition, Anna sprinted for the gold to open the door. “Mommy’s drowning!”

  “What?” He bolted around Anna into the tiny living room and toward the kitchen, where squeals and familiar Irish curses came. “Swearing a hole in a pot,” as his grandfather would phrase it.

  “Blast you!” Keela growled while wrestling with the kitchen faucet, which had turned into Old Faithful, spouting an arching flow into the air, across the counter, and creating a small waterfall onto the floor.

  “Move over so I can get under the sink and turn off the water,” he said, dropping a small bouquet of flowers onto a dry section of her counter. He nudged a drenched Keela aside to open the cupboards, then dived inside. Water splattered onto his back as he did, sending chills up his neck. Not wasting any time, he found the pipe handles and twisted them clockwise. The geyser stopped. He pulled his head out, catching counter overflow in his hair as he did, then looked up at Keela, who was dripping wet and wild-eyed.

  “The faucet leak got worse and I tried to turn the handle extra tight to stop it and...” She held the fixture that had come off and stared at it in wonderment.

  “Do you have a wrench?” He shook water from his hair before it could run into his eyes.

  “No.” She bit her lip.

  He made a quick study of her setup and decided what he’d most likely need to fix it. Having been raised at the family hotel, all three Delaney boys knew how to do minor and sometimes major repairs, though Mark was by far the best. “Let me run home and get some tools and stuff. Be right back.”

  “Can I come with you?” Anna asked, as if afraid to be left behind with her half-crazed mother in the semiflooded kitchen.

  “Anna,” Keela said, snapping out of shock and directly into mom mode, “I need you to help me mop up this mess.” She glanced at her soaked shirt. “Ack, I’ve got to change my clothes, too.”

  “Be back in five,” he said, dashing to the front door. Then, remembering the bouquet he’d brought, he added, “Oh, those flowers are for you.” And off he went.

  True to his word, he was back and fixing the sink faucet in short order, having given Keela a chance to get out of her sopping clothes. She’d
put on a cap-sleeved camellia-pink top and another pair of jeans, which he had to say fit great. Though her hair was still dripping wet, as if she’d just come straight from a shower. A quick thought of her in that shower threw him, so he glanced toward the sink, avoiding her eyes.

  “I need to blow-dry my hair, if you don’t mind.”

  “No problem. I’ll get to work on this.” He was thankful for the distraction.

  Anna stuck by his side, watching his every move with fascination. At first it made him uncomfortable, having her wanting to be near him. It occurred to him he hadn’t thought about Emma today, and he felt guilty. But Anna wasn’t Emma, and she didn’t deserve to be ignored, so every once in a while he forced a glance at her adoring face and tried to smile. It didn’t come easy but the second time, surprising himself, he winked. The huge, encouraging grin she gave in return nearly melted his heart. May as well talk to her, since she isn’t going away.

  “So what’s new?” he asked while using the wrench and trying to distract her laser stare.

  “Nothin’.”

  “Nothing? What’ve you been up to?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The kid had obviously developed a bad case of cabin fever. Or forgetfulness. “Well, we’ll have to do something about that.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, pointing.

  “That’s a seat washer. And this is plumber’s grease. See how I do it?” He coated the replacement washer with the stuff before installing it.

  “Wow.”

  Yeah, heck with that guy selling imported beer on that commercial; he’d just officially become the most interesting man in the world. Granted, it was a very small world—Anna’s world—but he’d take the title, since she so openly offered it, and the thought put a smile on his face. Maybe, with some practice, he’d get used to being around this little girl.

  It also occurred to him, as he finished the kitchen repair and cleaned up the counter, that living in an old cottage like this, Keela probably had other sinks in need of new rings and rubber washers, and since he was in the neighborhood...

  “I’m done in here,” he called out. “You want me to look at your bathroom faucets, too?”

  She waltzed back into the kitchen, her golden-tipped, light brown hair down and brushing her shoulders, and those amazing eyes lined with makeup, looking fantastic. The sight nearly stopped his train of thought.

  “Could you, please? They’re leaking, too.”

  Nothing like feeling needed by a great-looking woman. “I’ve got my tool kit, and there’s no time like the present,” he said, suddenly feeling extra manly.

  “Well, I’m a bit behind with dinner now, so if you really don’t mind...”

  “Not at all. Just point me to the bathroom.”

  “I’ll show you!” Anna said, leading the way on her lightweight titanium crutches for the “most interesting man in the world,” making another chink in his faulty armor.

  * * *

  Keela dashed around in the kitchen, wiping up the remaining water and trying to get a hold on her nerves. She hadn’t cooked for a man since she’d divorced Ron. All she could hope was that Daniel wasn’t as hard to please.

  It occurred to her that when she’d first met Ron, he’d thought everything she did was great. He’d loved her cooking, but over time he became pickier and pickier. Too much this or not enough that. Why couldn’t she learn some Italian-American dishes, his nationality? he’d chide. In the last year of their marriage, meals had become the tensest time of her day.

  She fussed with the stew gravy, taking a sip, worrying she hadn’t added enough salt or Worcestershire sauce. Had she put too much Guinness in it? Stop this. Daniel isn’t Ron.

  Picking up the pieces of her remaining self-esteem, she made a promise to serve her specialty with pride, not worry. Food always tasted better that way.

  * * *

  Twenty minutes later, after he’d fixed the slow drip in the bathroom sink, enticing aromas from the kitchen and a hungry growl in Daniel’s stomach lured him out of the bathroom. His shadow followed right behind. Anna had been so quiet, he’d almost forgotten she was there.

  “Should be good to go now.”

  “I can’t thank you enough,” Keela said, putting the finishing touches on setting the small kitchen table, his bouquet of slightly wet flowers at the center, then transferring the pot of stew to a trivet next to the vase.

  “You already are. Dinner smells great.” He especially liked how she looked standing in her small kitchen, mismatched potholders for gloves. So different from the work uniform and patient-care Keela he was used to. It surprised him how grateful she looked at his compliment.

  “I hope you like it. Stew is a staple, or I should say, was a staple back home.”

  “My grandda will be envious.”

  She blushed, and the pink on her cheeks stopped Daniel cold. Not being around her at work for the past few weeks, he’d forgotten how lovely her eyes were, and how ivory her skin. She nodded toward the seat at the head of the table for him to sit. He did, but not without being aware of the honor, and not sure he deserved it. He waited for Keela and Anna to take their seats.

  Soon, they all enjoyed a surprisingly good meal together. Surprising, because he’d grown up eating his grandfather’s stew and couldn’t imagine anything being as good.

  “So, tell me what’s been going on at work,” Keela said eagerly while dipping a homemade biscuit into some lamb stew gravy.

  He filled her in, in between delicious mouthfuls, on the new college account with the never-ending flow of young athletes through the clinic doors. Falling back on the comfort of their usual relationship made dinner at her house easier to navigate, especially with Anna’s big eyes watching his every move.

  Pride over the clinic stretched his smile as he brought Keela up to date, particularly when he realized how impressed she was. Now he had two adoring sets of eyes watching him. As they ate and talked, he sensed how anxious Keela was to come back. She’d said as much in their previous phone call.

  Daniel also couldn’t help but notice how eager to please Anna was, passing the biscuits without being asked, then the butter, then the jam. Not butting in to the “grown-ups” conversation. Well, not always. He could tell by the subtle expressions from Keela that this wasn’t usual behavior, especially Anna cleaning her plate. Was she doing it because he was their guest, or had she been trained to try extra hard to make her daddy happy?

  “That’s a first,” Keela teased.

  “It’s good, Mommy.”

  “Ah, thanks, sweetie.”

  “She’s right. Delicious. And if you don’t mind, I’ll have seconds. My grandfather swears he makes the best stew in the world, probably due to the generous dashes of Guinness.” Daniel hadn’t expected anything to come close from Keela, but he’d been gratefully surprised. “I’m not so sure now.”

  Him asking for seconds changed Keela’s tentative hostess demeanor to confident cook. That alone was worth the effort he’d made to socialize with his attractive employee. After a few bites, he’d quickly figured out it was the company that made the good meal special. That secret ingredient couldn’t be replaced with stout.

  When they finished eating, as he helped clear the table, Keela hesitated before turning on the faucet.

  “Hey, let me help with the dishes,” he insisted, showing off his handiwork and filling the sink with warm water, noting subtle relief in her expression.

  “Can I dry?” Anna asked.

  Keela pulled in her chin and blinked at the mystery child.

  “Another first?” Daniel murmured.

  “Usually I have to twist her arm.”

  The dinner cleanup turned into a team sport, adding another chink to his armor, and soon the kitchen was spotless.

  “I’ll make some coffee if you’d like, and I’ve got a little
something for dessert.”

  “Coffee sounds good. Dessert maybe later?” He patted his completely satisfied stomach.

  “Come play with me, Dr. Daniel.” Anna tugged on his hand. She couldn’t possibly know how she tortured him with her innocent pleas, reminding him of all the activities he’d never get to do with his baby girl.

  Needing to show progress in his mourning, he stopped Keela before she could protest. “What do you want to play?”

  “I’ll show you. Come on.” Anna led the way, and, though reluctantly, he followed.

  Keela gave him a grateful glance and went to work making coffee, and it occurred to him that being here had been easier than he’d expected. He figured the third point in his pep talk had sunk in—relax and enjoy yourself. Maybe being around the kid would act like a vaccine, and soon he’d have immunity and she’d cease to be a trigger for missing Emma. On the other hand, facing time alone with the mom would take a lot more effort.

  * * *

  By the time Keela had put the cherry pie into the oven to warm for later and made the coffee, Anna and Daniel had finished their first game of Match. Anna being the decisive winner, she hooted to prove it. Keela would have a little talk with her about good sportsmanship tomorrow.

  She placed two cups and saucers on the coffee table and watched the two of them play. It didn’t take long to catch on that Daniel was letting Anna win. Over and over. And Anna was eating up both the attention and her victories.

  She thrust her hands into the air after her third win. “Yay! I’m pretty good at this, huh?”

  “You sure are.” He took a sip from his coffee and from over the cup winked at Keela.

  That was a first! She smiled, warmth rambling around in her chest for her boss and her daughter. No way could she deny what a good man he was, or how much she’d enjoyed his company tonight. Not to mention how he’d saved the day, again, by fixing her faucets. And how amazing he was with Anna. Yeah, he was definitely a great guy. And he liked her cooking.

  But taking a sip of her coffee, it occurred to her—that was what she’d thought about Ron at first, too.