“I tried to get in touch with him, Dad, when I first found out about Annelise, but he says he never got the messages from his management. And you know what? I think I believe him. It was a crazy time in his career. He came to me about it Saturday, and he didn’t have to do that. And because Annelise has been wondering about her dad for a while, I decided it was now or never. I needed you guys to know in case she brings it up or asks you questions.”
Her dad wasn’t mollified. “I mean, The Baby Owls came through here and wanted Glenlivet, and I thought that was unreasonable. Shtupping my daughter is beyond the pale.”
“It’s what they do,” her mom said, with a certain amount of philosophical resignation, patting his knee. “Rock stars. And she was a grown woman even then.”
Her dad darted her mom a look that warned her mom not to get too explicit.
A rogue impulse to shock both of them rose in Eden.
“I was delighted he was here, Dad. It was thrilling for me. We flirted, we drank. It was quite mutual, only a little drunken, and I had a great—”
Her dad launched to his feet, clapped his hands over his ears, and staggered from the room as if suddenly assaulted by squealing guitar feedback.
They all watched him go.
“Give him a second,” her mom said, more or less peacefully, in a stage whisper.
Her poor dad had a much lower embarrassment threshold than her mother’s. Her mother didn’t so much have a threshold as a sieve. “Edie, honey, isn’t it time for a real bra?” she’d once bellowed to her clear across a crowded Macy’s department store when she was a teenager. “They have these adorable teeny tiny A cups on sale!”
“So what happens now?” Jude wanted to know. He was probably figuring someone ought to be practical. Like Eden, Jude liked to know what the plan was.
Her dad returned to the room and sat down as though he’d never left.
“Well, I’m going to have him over to my place this evening and . . . he and I are going to tell her. And I’d like him to meet all of you, and you him, so you can get a sense of him . . . so if we can have dinner together tomorrow? Would that work? Have him over to this house?”
“Yeah . . .” her dad mused. “Let’s have him for dinner.”
His tone suggested her dad was picturing Jasper trussed and browned like a roasted chicken while he stood over him scraping two big carving knives together.
Eden left them to go home to relieve Danny of babysitting duties.
On the way, she had a text from Jesse. It said:
THAT PRAT?
Followed by a whole row of emojis guffawing tears.
Chapter 17
Jasper had suggested he emerge from another room in her apartment, maybe to the sound of one of his songs playing on the iPod, maybe from behind her folding screen.
She stared at him in wonderment.
“It’s not American Idol, for fuck’s sake, Jasper. It’s not The Big Reveal. She’s ten. I think finding out you’re her father will be dramatic enough.”
Although a tiny part of her thought that Annelise might actually enjoy a little fanfare. She did have a flair for the dramatic. Apple, tree, etc.
“Sorry, just . . . trying to make it memorable. I’m at a loss.”
“Well, follow my lead. We’ll have no idea how she’s going to feel about the news, so you’re going to have to play it by ear. There’s no need to be anything but yourself.” But she said this a little more gently.
She didn’t add: and it might not be a walk in the park. It might not be as fun as your little chat with her at the Misty Cat sound check was. He was going to have to get through this and see for himself.
“Why don’t you have a seat right there. I’ll go get her.”
Annelise was playing with her Barbies—the Ken doll was seated on a plastic horse, and he seemed to be carrying Winter off over his shoulder—and Winter was going reluctantly, judging from the way her arms were stretched straight out beseechingly behind her.
Eden sat down on her bed. “Sweetie, come sit by me for a second.”
Annelise bounced over and plopped down next to her mom.
Eden inhaled. “Annelise, there’s something I want to tell you. It’s kind of a big deal, and it’s kind of a surprise, and I hope you think it’s a good one.”
“We’re going to get a horse?” she guessed, clasping her hands together.
“Um . . . well, noooo . . .”
“A tired swing, like at Mr. Caldera’s house?”
“I think you mean tire swing. Nope.”
“We’re going over to his house and ride on his tire swing? We’re going to live with Mr. Caldera?”
Jesus, how long had these particular dreams been gestating?
This could go on for a while, and Eden didn’t think her nerves, let alone her heart, would hold out, if the word Caldera entered the room one more time.
“It’s something else you’ve been wondering about. Do you remember when you met Mr. Jasper Townes at the Misty Cat?”
“Oh, that’s right, I did. He’s super nice! He showed me how to play E minor. Now I have two mournful chords.”
“Well, he’s here for a visit. You want to come say hello?”
Annelise went still and studied her mom. She was no fool.
She’d picked up a vibe.
“Okay,” she said finally. Sweetly enough.
But with a certain amount of suspicion.
Little did she know her life was about to change.
She followed her mom—skipping, of course—into the living room.
“Hey, Annelise, sweetie. Good to see you again.” Jasper was sitting on the sofa. He held out his fist to be bumped, and Annelise obliged him. Somewhat warily.
Eden sat down a more than polite distance away from Jasper on the sofa.
Annelise perched on the edge of the chair across from them. Then folded her hands. It reminded Eden of how Peace and Love curled his tail around his feet when he was feeling a little uncertain.
“Okay, Leesy, sweetie, you know you’ve been wondering a lot about who your dad might be? And you even wrote a song about it?”
She nodded mutely.
“Well . . .” Eden drew in a deep breath. “Jasper is your real father.”
Nobody said a word for a long, long time.
Annelise’s face was almost immobile. “Really?” The word was said in an astonished hush.
Eden nodded.
Annelise’s eyes darted between Eden and Jasper, then settled on Eden, almost pleadingly.
“You’re not teasing?”
“Oh, honey, I would never ever tease you about something like this. I didn’t know he’d be in town, but he came into the shop and we had a nice chat. We decided that since you’ve been so curious about it lately, we should tell you that he is your father. Is that okay?”
Eden was desperate to know if she’d done the right thing. Desperate for someone solid to be standing behind her while she changed her daughter’s life forever.
After a second, Annelise nodded mutely. She was staring at Jasper’s face like a traveler inspecting the Flight Arrivals board at an airport and not seeing the flight she was supposed to catch.
“You’re my dad?”
Also, she sounded deeply puzzled.
“I am.”
Another silence.
“You’re my dad?”
Jasper nodded. Two spots of color were in his cheeks. Eden appreciated those. It was indeed an excruciating moment.
Annelise clammed up again.
She blinked rapidly.
“Honey . . .” Eden said tenderly. “. . . do you want to tell me what you’re thinking?”
“But . . .” Annelise folded her hands on her lap, and her gaze moved from Jasper’s face to her mom’s and back again. It wasn’t skepticism, precisely. But you could see that her mom + Jasper wasn’t a formula she’d entertained.
“Are you sure about this, Mom?” It was practically a whisper. Awestruck. Tremulous.
It was almost funny.
Her hands were curling and uncurling in her skirt. Which happened when Annelise was nervous and uncertain—which she rarely was.
Oh, her baby. Was she doing the right thing?
Sometimes she thought she’d trade five years of her life for a manual that had all the answers to all of her decisions.
“Do Grandma and Grandpa know?”
That was a little funny. Because in Annelise’s mind, their knowledge of it would legitimize it, maybe.
“They sure do, baby. I knew you would want them to know. And I know what a grown-up, thoughtful girl you are, and I know you’ve been thinking about it a lot even if you don’t tell me all the time. Isn’t that right?”
Annelise nodded.
Taking in the info, like a little accountant, reconciling it against her previous guesses and conjectures.
Oh, for a glimpse into her mind now.
Jasper cleared his throat. “You see,” he began, “your mom and I met quite a few years ago, before you were born. I’ve been traveling a lot for work for years now, so it was really hard for your mom to get a message through to me about you. But when I stopped into your town and saw you, well, I just knew when I saw you. Do you know, you look a lot like my mom? She’d be your grandma. I thought you were just the nicest kid, so interesting and funny. I’m proud to have a daughter like you. And I’m very, very sorry I haven’t had a chance to meet you until now.”
These were the absolute perfect things to say. Eden was astounded and grateful and she held her breath and didn’t so much as twitch an eyelash.
Annelise bit her lip.
Color flooded her cheeks until she was as pink as the streak in her hair.
Her eyes glimmered, then welled, then . . .
Annelise’s face slowly, slowly crumpled, and she dropped her face into her hands.
Bawling like her heart was breaking.
Yikes!
“Oh, baby. Oh, honey. It’s okay. It’s a big thing. I know it’s a big thing.”
“I don’t know why I’m crying.” Annelise sniffed, sounding genuinely astonished and not at all grief-stricken. She pulled her head up out of her hands. “I really don’t know why, Mom. It just happened! It’s j-j-just surprising, that’s all. It’s just big. And it’s cool! I always wanted to know!”
They were all crying, actually.
Jasper knelt on the rug. “Hey, c’mere,” he said softly, jocularly. He tipped his head, beckoning. “It’s big for me, too.”
And opened up his arms.
Annelise went into his hug. Sedately, almost ceremonially. With, Eden thought, a certain noble resignation and drama that cut Eden through while at the same time almost made her want to laugh. He may not be the father of her dreams, but a famous musician dad wasn’t bad as dads went. The hug looked genuine, and painfully sweet, and maybe this would be all right, maybe this would work.
She remembered just in time to take a photo of that moment with the phone in her hip pocket.
And she did it right when Jasper looked over Annelise’s shoulder at Eden wearing perhaps the most complicated expression she’d ever before seen on another human. Raw and unguarded, moved and gratified, surprised and worried, a little beseeching. The very picture of a man who was all emotion and no preparation, because how on earth could he have prepared? He’d probably winged a lot in his life. You couldn’t really wing being a dad convincingly.
The beseeching part was because he was looking for approval, or maybe help. This grown man who was five years older than she was.
And while she was glad he wanted that, and he cared what she thought, and cared about doing the right things, the weight of that look settled on Eden like a lead shawl.
She was accustomed to that sort of inner wriggle and shrug required to shift a new responsibility into place, to move through her days with a new burden, that would hopefully feel like less of one as time went on. She’d adjusted to countless things since she’d become a mom. For Annelise, she could do this.
And yet she couldn’t imagine Gabe turning that beseeching look on her. His instinct was to help and protect, to shoulder what he could. Not beg. Life had carved him out good and deep, like a well or—like Hellcat Canyon itself. He had vast stores to call upon: of patience, of passion, of compassion, of awareness.
Of smoking hotness.
He was entitled to expect, even demand, the same in return, she supposed.
Why the hell couldn’t he understand her position here?
Her breathing went shallow again.
It had never occurred to her that he would shut her down so swiftly and even coldly, as though he savored meting punishment. Leaving her flailing to refind her balance. She was furious at the injustice, furious at him for showing her what life could be like with him, just a little hint, and then taking it all away in a heartbeat.
Like Annelise, Eden curled her fingers into her own skirt as if seeking a hand to hold as family history was made in her living room.
Eden had decided ahead of time that it was best to keep Jasper’s visit to just an hour and a half.
During that time, Annelise almost never took a breath as she dragged Jasper from room to room and narrated her life for him.
It went a little something like this:
“Who’s your best friend? Mine is Emily. She’s in Hummingbirds with me. The Hummingbirds went over to my Uncle Mac and Auntie Avalon’s and they have goats and a donkey and we helped find worms in the garden. Do you have a garden?” She turned hopeful eyes upon him.
“Um. You have to stay in one place for a long time to have a garden, sweetie. But I have, um . . . a Bentley!”
Eden tried not to laugh.
“Is Bentley your best friend?”
“Bentley is a car,” he said kindly.
“Oh, you named your car Bentley?”
“Sure,” he said after a moment. A little desperately.
“Mr. Caldera was there in the garden at their house chopping a stump with an ax and he has muscle squares on his stomach.”
“Shocking,” Jasper said grimly.
And, “This is my cat, Peace and Love.” She smoothed a gentle hand down Peace and Love’s side. Peace and Love was trying to sleep on the kitty tower in the computer room, but he obligingly rolled over and trilled, then sighed deeply. “He’s called that because he has a paisley on his side. See?”
“That’s a great name.” Jasper reached over to pet him. Peace and Love opened one golden eye and fixed it on those dangling bracelets with great interest.
“Be careful how you pet him, though. If he’s scared, he scratches!”
Jasper’s hand froze cautiously in place over Peace and Love’s head, as though he were bestowing a blessing.
Fortunately Peace and Love was more of a lover than a fighter and bumped his head up against it.
“But he hardly ever gets scared,” Annelise claimed.
And, “I’m good at spelling. Check this out—m-o-u-r-n-f-u-l. Like A minor.”
“Oooooh, good one!” he agreed.
She clasped her hands together. “Oh, how I love words.”
Jasper grinned at this. “You know what? I love words, too. Check this one out—phalanx. Do you know it?”
Annelise was clearly torn between longing to know and a little jealousy that she didn’t already know the word. “Did you make that up?”
“No, I swear it’s a real word.”
“Spell it,” she demanded, like a prosecuting attorney.
“P-h-a-l-a-n-x.”
She mouthed it along with him. “It sounds like a Dr. Seuss word! Or like those things grown-up ladies wear to keep their bellies smushed in that Kayla sells in her store.”
“What the . . . do you mean Spanx?” Eden guessed, stifling a burst of laughter. Proof positive right there that little kids were sponges and overheard everything.
“Yeah. Those! What’s a phalanx?”
“It means a row of soldiers, a line of defense,” J
asper told her. “Phalanx.”
“Ohhhhh.” She silently mouthed the word again. “Mr. Caldera was a soldier, did you know?”
A beat of silence.
“Uh, yeah. It might have come up.” Jasper shot Eden a baleful look.
“I wonder if he was a phalanx, too.”
“Well, it’s more something you’re a part of, rather than something you are,” Jasper tried.
“Were you ever a soldier?”
Dead silence for a good two seconds.
“Er, no. But I did sell out Madison Square Garden.” He rummaged in his pocket. “Here, here’s a guitar pick for you. It has my name right on it!”
“But I thought you didn’t have a garden.”
“Um . . . it’s a different kind of garden. Instead of flowers it’s a stadium with screaming, adoring people in it who came to hear me sing and play music.”
Eden fixed him with a meaningful stare in the hopes he’d get his bristly ego smoothed down.
Throughout all of this, Annelise was doing a lot of staring, fascinated and bright-eyed and a little bemused, not entirely flattering. The kind of staring she often did right before she announced something like, “Mom, do you know you have a hair growing out of your chin?”
Jasper, who one would think would be accustomed to being stared at, seemed a little disconcerted by the perusal.
But Gabe was coming up a little more than Eden preferred, or expected. And she had a hunch Gabe wasn’t just under her skin, he’d lodged under Jasper’s, too.
And it was pretty clear that Annelise had someone like Gabe in mind when it came to a father type, and she was trying to reconcile the two men in her head, like a little accountant.
And Jasper was clearly trying to impress a ten-year-old, something he’d likely never had to deliberately do in his whole life.
“Ooooh,” Annelise crowed delightedly. “Screaming fans!” She was authentically wowed by the idea of an audience, because she frankly loved an audience. Jasper smiled, mollified and relieved.
“Okay. Well, we can play Phalanx with my Barbies, and your Ken doll can pretend they’re all soldiers. And then we can play your thing. Your Madison Garden thing. And these are my Barbies! This one is named Coconut and this is Judith and this little one is Ariel, this is Winter, this is Ken, but today I call him Phil. Here, you be Phil.”
The First Time at Firelight Falls Page 21
