Swept Away

by Karen Templeton

  A charred scrap of a memory drifted to the surface of Carly’s thought. “Yeah. I do.”

  Except the sound of Sam’s truck pulling up outside sent the teenager jumping up, the tea flying out of the mug. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry!” she said, backing away, her eyes wide. “But Daddy’ll have my hide—!”

  “Go,” Carly said softly, getting up and shooing her with her hands. “I’ll clean up the mess.”

  The girl hadn’t been gone ten seconds before the front door opened and Travis—followed by Radar, natch—burst into the room, followed immediately by her father and Sam, grinning like a pair of cavemen after a successful hunt.

  “You two leave anything for the next guys?” she asked, the brittle, blackened memory floating away as her insides warmed at the satisfied gleam in her father’s eyes.

  “Maybe one or two items,” Sam said, cupping the four-year-old’s head when he wrapped himself around his father’s thigh. The little boy gave Carly a shy smile that might have melted the heart of a softer woman. “A pack of lightbulbs, I think, on Aisle 36…” His head suddenly lifted. “Is Libby here?”

  Carly froze. Her father held out his hand to Travis, enticing him back outside with promises that he could help unload the truck. Kid, dog and dad swept back out of the room, leaving Carly alone with Sam’s suspicion and her own ambivalence. “What makes you think that?”

  “I can smell that junk she uses on her hair a mile away.”

  “Maybe I use the same junk?”

  “No, you always smell like coconut.” His attention caught on the mugs. “And I’m guessing you don’t normally drink out of two cups at the same time.”

  Carly pushed out a sigh, then grabbed the mugs and carted them into the kitchen. “See, this is why I hate getting stuck in the middle.”

  “You’re not stuck in the middle,” Sam said, following her. “You’re on my side.” She thunked the mugs onto the counter and glared at him. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll be sure to absolve you, how’s that? Now you gonna tell me why she was over here or what?”

  Carly leaned back against the counter, her arms crossed. Just what she needed today, a good old-fashioned rock-and-hard place scenario. Betray the kid, or keep important info from the father. Either way, she was screwed.

  Okay, bad choice of words. And if Libby had been older, no amount of strong-arming would have made Carly give up the girl’s confidences. But no matter how she sliced it, Sam had a right to know what he was dealing with. Especially as he’d have to be the one to handle it, not Carly.

  “She’s confused, Sam.”

  “Aren’t we all?” he muttered. Then his gaze sharpened. “Confused about what?”

  “The usual. Boys. Sex.” She hesitated, then said, “She does know about birth control, doesn’t she?”

  He blanched slightly, but all he said was, “Of course she does. And has for some time. My father didn’t hold with the notion that the way to keep his kids out of trouble was to keep them in the dark, and I’m the same way. I just didn’t think…I mean, I hoped…” Worried eyes met hers. “Has she…?”

  “No. But she’s definitely thinking about it.”

  He breathed out a swear word, then said, “Just out of curiosity…what did you say?”

  “Nothing. Since we’d just gotten to that part when you and Dad barged in.”

  “So what would you have said?”

  “I have no idea.” That merited several seconds of hard staring until she thought it prudent to bring up their earlier conversation. “Did you think I was kidding when I told you I wouldn’t be any help with this?”

  “No,” he said after a moment. “But I did think maybe you were using it as an excuse to keep me at arm’s length.”

  She grabbed a couple paper towels and trudged back out to the living room to wipe up the spilled tea. “Then I would have said ‘keep away from me.’ Or some such.”

  His footsteps echoed behind her. Then: “But you didn’t, did you?”

  “In any case,” she said, turning around and pretending she hadn’t heard him, “I did tell you I’m the worst possible person to give advice to your kids. Which I also told Libby.”

  “I take it she didn’t listen, either.”

  “No. She didn’t.”

  His gaze held hers like a vise. “She could really use a woman’s point of view on this.”

  “Maybe so. But probably not one whose virginity was long gone by the time I was Libby’s age.”

  Sam told himself he was just imagining the pain behind the defiance, the regret lancing the pride in those pale eyes. Needing a moment, not to absorb her confession as much as to give her time to recoup, he walked over to take a gander at some photos lining one of the bookcases. “I see,” he said in an noncommittal a voice as he could manage.

  “Sam,” she said behind him, almost wearily, “I was the epitome of the wild child. Nobody could tell me nuthin’. Just ask my father. And trust me, he doesn’t know the half of it. So how can I be an example for her? How can I possibly advise her to keep her legs crossed when I…” He heard her blow out a breath. “What kind of hypocrite would that make me?”

  An alarm sounded inside Sam’s head, that there was more to the story than she was telling. Or willing to tell, at any rate. Oh, he didn’t doubt she was being truthful—just not completely truthful. Outside, Radar barked; he heard the thumps and bumps of the truck being unloaded, Lane’s deep laugh mingling with Travis’s breathy, innocent giggle. “So tell me something,” he said mildly, picking up a silver-framed picture of Lane, Carly and a smiling, dark-haired woman he assumed was her mother. “You ever kill anybody?”

  “What? No, of course not—”

  He turned, swallowing a half smile at the shocked expression. “Inflict bodily harm?”

  “Not counting myself?” She shook her head.

  “Work for the Mob? Sell drugs to small children?”

  “No. To both. Although…”

  “What?”

  “Since I’m being honest and all…you’re skating close to the truth with the second one.”

  Again, the pain. Not shame, though. Not exactly. More like she didn’t want anybody pitying her, would be his guess. He kept his expression unreadable. “Are you still using?” he asked quietly.

  “No,” she said on a huge breath. “Not for a very, very long time.”

  He approached her then, until he stood so close she had to lift her head. Not to intimidate her—fat chance of that happening, in any case—but almost as if he was trying to shelter her. “Frankly,” he said, “I really don’t give a damn about your past. Or at least, I’m not seeing it as the liability that you apparently do. No, hear me out,” he said when she started to protest. “Yeah, I know it’s my responsibility to help Libby see her way clear through all this. I’m also guessing nobody knows better than you how often teenage girls think their fathers know squat. Especially about sex and love and giving in to urges.” His gaze lanced hers. “Or not. Seems to me her wanting to talk to you is a positive sign—”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “—and it also seems to me that maybe you’d have a slightly broader view of the issue than somebody who waited until his wedding night to finally make love to his wife.”

  He saw the pulse jump in her throat, had to push aside the whispers to go ahead and soothe it with his thumb. If not his mouth. She shoved her hands into her sweatshirt pockets. “You don’t expect me to believe you’d be happy about Libby having sex so young?”

  His laugh scraped his throat like sandpaper. “Not hardly. And I have every intention of letting her know exactly how I feel about the situation every chance I get. Which by my reckoning should make her real pissed off at me for a good long time. But it might not be a bad thing for her to have someone she can come and bitch to about her idiot father every now and again.”

  Their eyes remained locked for several seconds, a weird contest of wills, until Carly walked over to the living room window. Past her, he could see outsi
de, Travis chasing Radar around the dusty yard. “You’re putting an awful lot of trust in someone you really don’t know,” she said.

  “What can I say? I’ve always had good instincts.”

  She chuckled, then turned around. “For what it’s worth, I won’t encourage her to give in to her hormones.”

  Again, he sensed a wealth of unspoken reasons behind her words. “I didn’t figure you would.”

  “But…I really think trying to keep them apart is only going to backfire.” Her mouth twisted. “God knows, it never worked with me.”

  A conclusion he’d already reached about Sean and Libby some time ago, unfortunately. He hooked his thumbs in his front pockets and pushed out a breath. “Got any suggestions?”

  “Well…she really wants to go to this dance with Sean. Maybe if they had another outlet for their…energy?”

  It wasn’t a half-bad idea, actually. “You’re probably right. After all, she needs to see there’s more than one way to enjoy a boy’s company.”

  “So you’ll let her go?”

  Dang. He doubted Libby’s expression would be as hopeful as Carly’s was right now. And with that, he realized that, somehow, the woman had fallen under his daughter’s spell. In spite of her best intentions, he imagined, as a half-formed idea with no basis whatsoever in common sense roared from the back of his brain and out of his mouth.

  “On one condition,” he said, even as he thought You’re not really going to say this, are you?

  “And what’s that?”

  “That she go with another couple. Double date.”

  “Actually that’s not a bad idea. Depending on the other couple, of course. Who’d you have in mind?”

  “Us,” he said, and watched her mouth fall practically to her knees.

  “It’s that or nothing, Libby.”

  Half appalled, half incredulous, his daughter sat cross-legged on her bed, a pillow clutched to her chest. “That is so lame! What kind of baby is Sean going to think I am, double-dating with my father?”

  Already rattled from that scene with Carly, Sam was in no mood for a teenager with her nose out of joint. “Considering you went behind my back to see him, I could have said you couldn’t go at all. Frankly I think this is a pretty generous offer, myself.”

  That took the outrage down a notch or two. In fact, she ducked her head, her eyes fixed on the corner of her bedspread.

  “And by the way, did you ever apologize to Blair for making her cover for you?” When she didn’t answer, he said softly, “You know that wasn’t fair, putting her in that position.”

  One shoulder shrugged. “She said she didn’t mind.”

  “Friends don’t take advantage of each other, Lib—”

  “Jeez, Daddy—I got it! I’m sorry.” Her eyes filled. “It was stupid and I won’t do it again, I promise. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “But…I don’t understand,” Libby said, still hugging that pillow. “How come you asked Carly? I thought you weren’t even interested in her?”

  “You know anybody else I could invite?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “So there you are. And for your information, asking Carly to the dance doesn’t necessarily translate into me being interested in her. Friends can go to these things, too, you know.”

  “But she’s supposed to be my friend, not yours!”

  “So go with her instead of Sean and all our problems will be solved.”

  For the second time, tears welled in her eyes, which is when he remembered—too late—that at certain times of the month, the female of the species has no sense of humor. “Why do you always have to make fun of everything I say, or do, or think?” she hurled across the room at him. “It’s like you never take me seriously, ever!”

  Ah, hell. Cows, he could handle. Locusts, he could handle. Drought, he could handle. Teenage girls…? Sam dared to sit on his daughter’s bed, slinging an arm around her shoulder, longing for those halcyon days when she’d crawl up into his lap and regale him with her adoring, trustful gaze. Right now, hormones had just shot to the top of his S-list. And unfortunately, not only his daughter’s.

  “I’m sorry, honey. No, really,” he said to her snort. “I was having a dumb male moment, okay? I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, I swear. But sometimes…I make jokes because it’s easier than facing all this stuff I don’t understand.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you scare the living daylights out of me.”

  That got a tiny laugh. “Really?”

  “Really.” He placed a kiss on top of her head. “Bear with me—I’ve never raised a teenage girl before. And it’s kinda like trying to build a car from scratch. Without any instructions.”

  She giggled again, then reared back to frown into his eyes. “Carly’s all wrong for you, you know.”

  “Yes, I do.” The look on her face when he’d suggested they go to the dance together had been priceless. Probably about as priceless as on his. “But I thought we’d already established nothing’s going to happen on that front.”

  “Dad. It’s been a long time for you. Temptation happens.”

  It took everything he had in him not to laugh. But Libby looked so damn earnest, he didn’t dare. Unfortunately she was also more right than she knew. There was a big difference, however, between wanting to help diffuse whatever darkness that gal sure seemed to be carrying around inside her, and wanting her.

  A big difference.

  “Well, I wouldn’t worry about it too hard, if I were you. Especially since you and Sean are going to be right there to make sure things don’t get out of hand. Sorry, sorry,” he said in response to her rolled eyes. “I know you’re serious, and I don’t mean to make light of it. Although I thought you were so hot to see me get married again?”

  “I am.” Her brow furrowed. “I think.” Then she let out a sigh. “And I really like Carly. But…” She pushed out a breath. “This isn’t about what I’d like. It’s about what’s right for you. And Carly’s so…”

  “Different from Mama?”

  “Yeah,” she said on another released breath.

  Sam stood, wondering how to put this so the girl wouldn’t get the wrong idea. Wondering how to put it so he wouldn’t get the wrong idea. “Honey, I think it’s safe to say that, even if I did end up getting hitched again, it wouldn’t be to a clone of your mother. I wouldn’t want that, in any case.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, it’s not possible, to begin with. Mama was definitely one-of-a-kind. But besides that…” He paused, trying to get his thoughts lined up before once again meeting his daughter’s questioning gaze. “I’m not sure how to put this, but I don’t feel like the same person I was before your mother died.” Not that he’d known that was what he was going to say, but it was true. Jeannie’s death had changed him in some intrinsic way he couldn’t even define.

  Libby’s features seemed to relax. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

  Under normal circumstances, this might have been a good note on which to end to the conversation. Except, for all the ground they’d just covered, Sam hadn’t brought up the topic that had led to the double date idea to begin with. Feeling like scorpions were making nests in his belly, he rapped the palm of his hand against the door frame a couple of times before clasping it for support, then said softly, “By the way, I know why you went over to Carly’s. What you talked to her about.”

  Her softened expression of moments before went instantly rigid; twin dots of crimson stained her cheeks. “She wasn’t supposed to tell.”

  “She promise you she wouldn’t?”

  The dots got darker. “Not exactly, but…” A harsh breath rushed from her lips. “So much for being able to trust her.”

  “She felt real strongly that I needed to know what you were thinking, Lib. And it wasn’t any more fair to expect her to keep something like that from me than it was for you to expect Blair to cover for you.”

  Libby grimaced. “
Yeah, except Blair at least kept my secret.”

  “Which, one, didn’t stay a secret anyway, because these things never do. And two, grown-ups usually have a different take on what it means to be a real friend.”

  She had nothing to say to that. But she crammed her hair behind one ear and said, “I wouldn’t expect you to even begin to understand.”

  “About sex?” Her eyes shot to his. “Oh, I understand, all right. I understand a heckuva lot more than you know.”

  “Oh, yeah? Then I suppose Mom made up the part about you and she waiting until you were married?”

  “Nope, we really did wait. But nobody said it was easy.”

  “So why didn’t you just do it, already?” she blurted out, only to immediately bury her face in her hands. “I cannot believe I just said that to my father!”

  “That’s okay. I can’t quite believe I’m having this conversation, either. Now do you want the answer to your question or not?”

  She peered over her hands, then nodded.

  “We held off because neither of us felt we were ready,” he said simply. “I’m not talking about physically, I’m talking about mentally and emotionally. I’m not going to give you a lot of hogwash about saving yourself for marriage, but no way in hell am I going to say I think it’s okay for somebody your age to have sex. Because things happen, Libby. Like diseases. And babies.”

  She scoffed, her embarrassment clearly taking a back seat to what she probably thought was sophistication. “I know all about condoms, Dad.”

  “Then I suppose you also know they don’t always work. That they sometimes break? So are you prepared to deal with the consequences if that happens?” He paused, then added, “Is Sean?”

  Apparently she had no answer to that.

  “Any other questions?” Sam asked. She lowered her eyes, shaking her head. “Okay. Then the lecture’s over. Except for one thing—I think you had the right idea, going to Carly.”

  Libby’s head bounced back up. “Why? Because she ratted on me?”