“You have to swear you won’t tell my dad.”
Shit. If anything, the knot in her belly grew tighter. “I promise. But, honey, you have to know if it’s bad enough, I’d want you to tell your dad.”
Vi’s shoulder jerked in a shrug. “My teacher’s just…he makes fun of my writing. Because the famous Neil Graves is my father. He caught me writing part of my book in his class—I was done with the assignment!” A tear streaked down her cheek. “And he made me read it to the whole class, then he went on and on about how we had a budding novelist on our hands, only he said it in a mean way, and the whole class laughed at me.”
“Wow, what a dick.” Okay, it was bad, but not as bad as Laurel had feared. She didn’t know if she should be relieved or not, but fear gave way to righteous anger. How dare some motherfucker mock Violet? Especially considering her writing was good. The teacher sounded like a frustrated, failed artist who needed to drag everyone down into failure with him.
Violet huffed out a soggy laugh. “Right? He’s a super-dick.”
Choosing her words as carefully as possible, Laurel said, “For what it’s worth, I think you should talk to your dad. He’d tear that teacher to pieces.”
“I know.” The teen’s world-weary sigh was worthy of someone three times her age. “But he’s had a crazy year, and I didn’t want to be a bigger pain for him, you know? It was already a lot that he had me in his house all the time.”
“You know he loves you, Violet.” Laurel cupped her jaw. “He would crawl over broken glass for you. It’s been a tough year for both of you, and he still would have wanted to know if a teacher was being a fuckwit bully.”
“I know.” Vi quickly swiped at her cheeks and smoothed her hair. “Ruth is coming up the road. We’re supposed to babysit the twins for a couple of hours so Helen and Pedro can work.”
“Maybe you should cancel, just this once.”
Biting her lip, she shook her head. “No. I want to hang out with my friend.” Her voice cracked. “Before I have to go back to not having any.”
“Honey.” Laurel took the girl’s hands and squeezed. “Promise me you’ll think about telling your dad how unhappy you are in LA. It would matter to him a lot.”
“I promise.”
She gave her best do-not-bullshit-me look. “Really, really?”
Vi’s chuckle was watery. “Yes, really, really.”
Then she stood and jogged over to meet Ruth. The two turned to wave goodbye to Laurel and cut across the grass toward the Cho-Diaz family’s cabin. Once the girls vanished, Laurel waited for about five more minutes and then went in search of Neil. She wasn’t going to break her promise to his daughter, but if they’d had a blow-up over the rock collection, he was going to be upset. He’d hide it better than Violet, but that didn’t mean he’d feel any less pain.
“Hey.” She pushed the screen door aside and walked in. “I just spoke to Vi. You okay?”
“I’m not sure.” He rubbed his forehead and recounted his side of what had happened. Then he swallowed and confessed, “What if she has a problem with us being together? I haven’t introduced her to any of my lady friends since the divorce. She knew they existed, but that’s not the same. Or is this about Cara dying, some new stage of the grieving process? God, I don’t know.”
Wow, he was way off. She had to choose her words carefully, so she kept her word to Vi, but didn’t leave Neil in the dark. It sucked to be in the middle of a rock-hard place situation.
“You said she’s gotten worse the closer she gets to the end of summer.”
He rose and began to pace. “Yeah, but Vi’s not going to freak this badly for this long just because she’ll miss everyone.”
“True enough.” She pressed her lips together. “But when you leave here, you go back to LA.”
“So?” He hunched his shoulders.
Yep, there was no way to clue him in without violating his daughter’s trust, and she just couldn’t do that. She tried a more direct approach. All she could do was get them to talk, but she wasn’t telling tales. “It’s not just a teen girl thing, Neil. It’s not going to work itself out.”
“Why?” He spun to face her. “What do you know that you haven’t told me?”
“I can’t tell you—I made a promise and I don’t break those. But you really need to talk to Vi about what’s bothering her.” Laurel could only hope Vi forgave her for even saying this much. “Don’t let her weasel out of telling you—it’s important.”
“Okay.” His eyebrows rose and he crossed his arms, irritation radiating from him. “That’s not ominous and vaguely terrifying.”
Laurel matched his pose, notching her chin up. “She considers me a friend and confidante. Do you want her to have the kind of friend that will break promises?”
“I do if she’s in danger,” he snapped back. “Tell me what you know, Laurel. You have no right to keep important information about my daughter from me.”
“I can’t, Neil.” She couldn’t back down on this one. Jesus, their first real fight and it was over his child. What a nightmare. Cold fear quivered in her stomach. “Don’t put me in that kind of position. I didn’t have to say anything to you at all.”
His nostrils flared, and she wasn’t sure what he’d do. It was clear she’d scared him, and fighting with Violet had to have worried him too. They usually had such a good relationship. Would he take his fear out on Laurel, blame her for being the messenger of a more serious problem than teen angst?
“You’re right.” A vein throbbed in his temple, and his tone was little more than grudging. “Thanks for the head’s up. I was planning to have a discussion with her when she got back anyway. I’m glad to know I need to push.”
Laurel wrapped her arms around herself, still not reassured. “I made her promise to consider telling you, but that’s the best I could do.”
He considered her for a long moment before he walked over, pulled her into his embrace, and brushed a kiss over her forehead. “It’s not your fault, sweetheart. I’m not mad at you. I’m just frustrated that Vi’s keeping things from me. She’s never done that before. I’m also not used to her confiding in someone besides me. Or Cara.”
“I’m sorry.” She leaned against him, wishing for all the world that she could make everything better for him. And for Violet. But there was nothing more Laurel could do. It was up to them to work it out. She knew they would. They did have a strong relationship, and they cared enough about each other to do whatever it took to make the other happy. Neil by coming to The Enclave when he hadn’t planned to, Violet by not burdening him with being bullied by her teacher. Sure, Vi was a bit misguided, but she was a teenager. Even the mature ones had a lot to learn.
Still, Laurel hated being so powerless to really help. She guessed that was what being a parent must be like sometimes. It was every bit as scary and overwhelming as it sounded.
“Thank you for being here, for coming to talk to me.” He sifted his fingers through her hair. “I know you didn’t have to.”
She huffed. “If you thought I was the kind of person who’d blithely let your kid do something self-destructive, you’d never have let me near her.”
His chuckle was a rough sound under her ear. “True enough, sweetheart. True enough.”
Whereas her own father had no problem letting young Laurel run with scissors as long as she didn’t disturb his work or his schmoozing with clients.
Neil was waiting for his daughter when she got back from babysitting. What Laurel had said had worried him. He’d been working it over in his mind for the hour she’d been gone. Whatever was the matter with Vi, he needed to know. No matter how serious it was, they’d get through it together. That was what families did.
“Hey.”
She straightened, her gaze reflecting instant wariness. That hurt, because Vi and he had never had that kind of knee-jerk negative re
action to each other. Worse, she looked scared. “Hey, Dad.”
He waved to the other end of the couch. “Have a seat.”
She didn’t move from her spot by the door. “How long am I grounded for?”
“You’re not.” Because it wasn’t retribution for her poor behavior and bad attitude he wanted. He needed information.
Surprise took some of the stiffness out of her shoulders. “I’m not?”
“Nope, but I do think we need to talk.” He shifted so he sat facing her, one knee propped on the sofa.
“Talk? About what?”
He arched an eyebrow and didn’t bother dignifying the question with a verbal response.
Her lips compressed, her fingers bunching into fists at her sides. “I’ll get rid of some of the rocks.”
“It’s not about the rocks, is it?” Trying to maintain a relaxed pose took effort, because he didn’t want her to think he was angry. Nothing would make her clam up faster. “So, why don’t you tell me why the closer we get to going back to LA, the nastier you become? Is there something I need to know?”
“Laurel told you,” she said dully, her entire body seeming to slump.
His gut clenched. “No, she didn’t. I talked to her after you flounced out of here—not the first time in the last few weeks—and told her I was worried. I wasn’t sure if this was just a growing pain I should let slide, if it was about your mom, if it was about me and Laurel, if it was something else entirely. All she said was that she suspected it wasn’t a growing pain. I asked why she’d think that and she refused to tell me anything else. She said I’d have to speak to you.” He patted the seat cushion beside him. “So. Why don’t you come tell me why you don’t want to go home?”
“It’s not my home!” The words exploded out of her with a ragged sob, as if a building volcano had finally erupted. “You don’t even understand!”
“I’d like to.” He kept his tone encouraging, leaning forward so she knew he listened.
The story came out in fits and starts, and he let her tell it without interruption. She paced back and forth in front of him and then flopped onto the couch, tears rolling down her cheeks. He snagged a box of tissues from the side table and handed it over. By the end, she was curled up against his side, blubbering all over his shirt while he held her tight and rocked her. A hundred emotions ricocheted through him as she spoke, rage at her asshole English teacher, self-loathing that he’d missed the signs that pointed to a major problem, pain for everything his baby girl had suffered this year. Especially when some of it was to protect him from worrying or being more stressed.
Laurel had been right. Saying yes to every opportunity meant he’d failed his daughter. He should have scaled back the moment she came to live with him, instead of trying to juggle everything. He’d dropped the most important ball, and he hadn’t even noticed. It was his job to protect her, not the other way around.
The yes-game stopped now. As soon as he was back to the land of connectivity, he’d be having some serious discussions with his agent. He’d hire an assistant if he had to.
Once Vi subsided to the occasion sniffle, he said, “We don’t have to go back to LA, you know.”
She leaned away from him, her gaze searching his face, hope and disbelief warring in her expression. “We…we don’t?”
“We can live anywhere in the US we want.” Then he held up a hand. “Okay, anywhere that has decent internet and cell reception, so this area is out.”
“You’re serious?” She all but quivered in excitement. “We don’t have to go back. Oh my God. I can’t even—”
She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a stranglehold. He choked a little, and she backed off with a laugh, though tears glistened in her eyes.
“Do you want to move back to Maine? You know I didn’t sell the house.” It was the house that Cara and he had bought when they’d gotten their first major book advances. It was the house Cara had continued to raise their daughter in after the divorce. He had no intention of selling the place. It was Violet’s inheritance—she could decide what to do with the property when she was old enough.
He’d asked her if she wanted to keep living there after her mother died, and she’d said no. Maybe she’d changed her mind. If she’d rather live in Maine, he’d uproot his life in California and move back to his home state. She’d spent a year being bullied by an adult who should have looked out for her best interest, helped her to grow her writing talents. At the moment, Neil would have lived on the moon if it was what she wanted.
She pressed her lips together and slowly shook her head, appearing uncertain. “I think…there’d still be too many memories of Mom. Maybe I could go back someday, but not yet.”
“But you don’t want to live in LA,” he prompted.
“No!” That was definitive, at least. Her hair flew out wildly as she shook her head.
“Okay.” He smoothed her curls back. “Where in the world sounds good to you, baby girl?”
She was quiet for a long time. “I want us to live wherever Laurel lives.”
That hit him like a kick in the gut. Living with Laurel…God, yes. Tangling her up in the madness of his life…hell no. “I think she moves around a lot, Vi. That wouldn’t work with your schooling.”
“She might stay put if, like, she knew we wanted her to. We could ask her to move in with us.” Her tone was so matter-of-fact, as if she couldn’t believe he hadn’t figured this out for himself already.
“Violet.” He shook his head.
“Think about it.” She tugged on his shirt sleeve. “It’d be awesome.”
It would be.
“You love her. I love her. It’s simple. Why do grown-ups have to make everything all complicated?” She arched her brows. “She’s never going to replace Mom, but she’s awesome step-mom material. If you know what I mean.”
Yeah, because that hint was so subtle.
“I’ll think about it,” he said, and he would think about it, but he already knew his answer would be no. Even though he wanted it to be yes.
“Can I take all my rocks with me?” She widened her eyes appealingly. “We can just ship them instead of lugging them along in the suitcases. And this way they’re already packed for the move. It’s perfect!”
“All right.” He gave in gracefully. “You can keep the rocks.”
A wide smile flashed across her face. “Thanks for letting me win that one.”
“You’re welcome.” He ruffled her hair, and she squawked, leaping to her feet.
“Can I get my hair streaked like Lau—”
“No, and you can’t have a pony either.” He rolled his eyes. “Don’t push your luck, kid.”
“It was worth a try,” she countered, totally unrepentant.
“We should probably get ready for bed. Do you want to shower first?” He pushed to his feet, but staggered when she plowed into him, giving him another hug before she pulled away to dance toward her bedroom.
“No more LA, no more stupid kids, no more jerkwad teachers.” She twirled in a circle. “Yeeeeeeeeeeessssss!”
“I’ll assume that means you want the bathroom first,” he replied drily, though her enthusiasm stabbed at his soul. How had he not seen that her misery the past year wasn’t all about losing Cara? Why had he never pressed when she hadn’t talked about her school much? He’d known she hadn’t made many close friends, but hadn’t realized she’d felt quite so ostracized.
He felt like the worst parent on the planet. Self-disgust curdled in his belly, and he dropped his head back against the couch, closing his eyes. He’d never wanted to crawl into a hole more in his entire life. At least when he’d lost his unborn son, there was nothing he could have done. This, he should have prevented. He could have, if he weren’t an overextended, cluelessly pathetic excuse for a father.
“Hey, Dad?”
He straightened to look at her. “Yes, baby?”
She propped one foot on top of the other, her pajamas clutched in a bundle under her arm. “I really would like to keep Laurel.”
“I know.” His voice sounded like gravel in a blender. God, he’d love to have Laurel near now, but she didn’t deserve to constantly be burdened with his problems. She’d helped him shoulder the load this summer, but no one wanted to clean up someone else’s shit forever. Which was what would happen to her if he tried to convince her to stick around.
“I think she’d like to keep us too.” Vi gave him an encouraging smile.
He nodded, but made no other reply.
She looked like she was going to say more, but just walked over and kissed his cheek before going to shower. Which left him alone with his thoughts. A dangerous thing in the frame of mind he was in, surfing down an ugly shame spiral.
If anything, he was even less willing to try to drag Laurel deeper into his mess. He’d been cocksure going into his first marriage—his last real relationship—and look how well that had turned out. He was older and hopefully a little wiser now, and he could see how badly he could screw up a second try. He’d screwed up the first time, he was screwing up single parenthood, he was only barely managing to finish his writing projects—hell, he was just a gigantic screw up right now.
Saddling Laurel with someone like him would be a crime.
It didn’t matter how desperately he loved her; he needed to end this thing they had, for her own good.
He was sure she’d keep in touch with Vi when summer ended, and while the father in him was grateful, the man in him knew it was going to burn like hellfire to see her and hear about her and not have her in his arms.
Ever again.
Chapter Ten
Neil had been strangely quiet for most of the week, burying himself in work, and it was becoming seriously worrisome. The day after tomorrow was the last day in Colorado. Less than forty-eight hours left. Laurel saw him at meals and during kitchen duty like usual, but that was it. She hadn’t spent the night—or even gotten in a quickie—since he’d quarreled with Violet. He seemed to be brooding. She didn’t have to think very hard to know what he was dwelling on. She’d tried to give him breathing room, but the time they had left was ticking down to nothing. Maybe it was time to talk.
Rockies Retreat: Destination: Desire, Book 5 Page 13
