“I could tell you didn’t love me anymore, either.” Amy hadn’t known she was going to say that until the words had burst out. “I felt so abandoned.”
If possible, Jakob’s fingers tightened on hers. The connection to him kept her head high, the tears at bay.
“I never quit loving you.” Josef’s cheeks had flushed again, and she suspected that this time it was with shame. “You’ve always been my little girl. You still are. But I guess I did try to hold something back. I’d lost all right to you. Your mother could have refused to let me see you, and I wouldn’t have had a leg to stand on. Letting you go hurt so damn much, I guess I was protecting myself.” His eyes met hers, and she’d have sworn there was a sheen of moisture on them. “I’m sorry, imp. If I’d known you could tell...” Words apparently failed him.
Oh, lord. He hadn’t called her that in a long time. Amy swallowed hard. After a moment she managed a nod.
He cleared his throat loudly. “And I expect to be called ‘Dad.’ You hear me?”
She fought the hot spurt of tears. Breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Like that. In, out. She won the battle at last, enough to—sort of—smile.
“Dad,” she said, and he groaned and reached for her. Amy let go of Jakob’s hand and allowed her father to envelop her in his powerful embrace.
* * *
“YEAH, I OVERHEARD enough to suspect,” Jakob told his father that evening, after they’d left Amy’s house. Reluctantly, in his case.
They’d all had dinner together after a lively debate about where to eat. Josef wasn’t an adventuresome eater; Jakob had suggested Laurelhurst Market because it offered enough meat and deep-fried sides to please Dad. Better yet, it was the only restaurant Jakob knew that had s’mores on the menu. Seeing the listing had made Amy laugh and she’d ordered them. Making Amy laugh had lately become one of his paramount goals in life.
Driving her home, he’d let the two of them talk while he brooded. No, he didn’t want to leave her alone. He didn’t think she was ready. But there was no third bedroom for Dad, and he couldn’t think how to justify handing Dad the key to his own house and saying, You’re on your own.
No, that wouldn’t have gone over well at all. In fact, the current discussion had begun when his father noticed the duffel bag full of toiletries and dirty clothes Jakob had carried in from the car to his own house.
“What the hell is that?” had been his first, combative question.
They had progressed from there.
Now his father took a swallow of the brandy he had unerringly located in a cupboard above the refrigerator. “Why didn’t you ever ask?”
“You made such a point of telling me to be nice to my sister. Words emphasized. The whole subject felt taboo.”
“I don’t suppose it much mattered to you whether she was literally your sister or not,” his father said thoughtfully.
Jakob grunted. It was more like an exhalation of air after someone had punched him. Didn’t matter? Oh, yeah, it had mattered.
“Is that why you two don’t have much to do with each other? Because you figured you didn’t have to bother with her?”
“Hell, no!” Irrationally mad, Jakob leaped to his own defense. “You think I just dismissed her?”
“Looked that way.”
“That wasn’t it.”
“Then what was it?” His father’s voice hardened. He’d never appreciated his son’s attitude. Jakob had gone on restriction more times than he could count for whatever nasty prank he’d been caught pulling on Amy.
“I was jealous.” That much of an admission wouldn’t hurt. “You remarried, I just thought Michelle was fat and next thing I knew there was this baby and you were besotted.” He grinned at his dad’s expression. “And yes, I know you made time for me, too, but then it didn’t feel like it. After the divorce I thought, great, at least I won’t have any more competition, only then I realized Amy was still going to be showing up regularly.”
“Wasn’t too bad until you both got to be teenagers, though,” his father said with unexpected shrewdness. “She wasn’t with us as often, but she was staying longer. All I knew was, you got more vicious every time she came.”
Jakob rubbed the back of his neck and tried to think what to say. Nothing came to him.
His father’s eyes narrowed. “Did you ever tell her she wasn’t really your sister?”
Jakob’s head came up. “Hell, no! What do you think I am?” He hesitated. “Besides, I wasn’t sure. I thought I knew, but I could have been wrong.”
“Goddamn.” Josef finished the brandy and clunked the glass down on an end table.
You don’t know the half of it, Jakob could have told him. Instead, he maintained his silence, sprawled in a big leather armchair, his own brandy scarcely touched.
“Never meant her to find out at all,” his father muttered after a lengthy interval.
“What you said tonight, I think that helped.”
Josef’s sharp blue eyes met his. “What do you mean?”
“Insisting she call you Dad. Telling her you are her father.”
His big shoulders moved. “It’s nothing but the truth.”
“She’s pretty devastated.”
“Is she?” He mulled that over. “Amy always fights back. That girl came out of the womb with her hands curled in fists.”
A dry laugh caught in Jakob’s throat. “Do you remember that scratching, punching brawl she got into in kindergarten? I was in awe. That was one of the few times I was really proud she was my sister.”
His father chuckled. “No surprise you admired her over that. You were an eight-year-old boy. Her mother, now, she didn’t feel the same about it.”
“No, I remember.” Michelle’s deep freeze had been aimed at her daughter, but it had chilled everyone else in the household, too. Jakob even felt sorry for Amy, an equally rare emotion for him in those days.
“If we’d taken her with us,” his father mused, “things would have been different for her.”
Jakob kept his gaze on the amber liquid he swirled in his glass. He thought it might have been hell, growing up in the same house as Amy. Sharing a bathroom with her. Living with her bras hanging over the towel rack, overhearing bits of confidences she was telling her friends over the phone, maybe walking in on her in the shower.
Or maybe, it occurred to him, he might have come to really think of her as his sister. Constant exposure would have worked like a vaccine does on a virus. Maybe the real trouble was that he saw so little of her. She was virtually a stranger to him by the time they were teenagers. That made her a little mysterious. He didn’t watch her maturing into a woman, he got slapped in the face with it when she appeared each time after a six-month absence.
He relaxed a little, thinking about that. Even if she’d really been his half sister, even if he’d never suspected otherwise, there might have been some...discomfort under the circumstances. Good word, he congratulated himself. He settled a little deeper in the chair.
“So now what?” his father asked, startling him out of his introspection.
He cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“You and Amy. What’s with you going to that damn time capsule opening with her?” Josef had the bullish look of a man issuing a challenge. “Then, what, you’ve been living with her? You don’t like her, remember?”
He could have argued. Could have said, That’s not the way it was. I wanted her to hate me. Didn’t mean I hated her.
Instead, he smiled faintly, thinking about the shock on her face last night. “Everything has changed,” he told his father, taking no small amount of satisfaction in repeating a line that was true even though he didn’t yet know what that change would mean.
Josef sat up, his chin thrust out. “What the hell are you talking abou
t?”
Here we go again, Jakob thought, more amused than disturbed this time.
* * *
AMY COULD HAPPILY have said her goodbyes the night before, but Josef wouldn’t hear of it. He insisted she meet them for breakfast before he flew out in the morning.
Despite the fact that he’d rented a car and therefore Jakob didn’t have to take him to the airport, all three of them had breakfast at Pine State Biscuits. The upside was that the famous biscuit sandwiches were fabulous; the downside was that she had to endure the scrutiny of both men, who could probably tell she hadn’t gotten much sleep last night.
She was embarrassed to realize that she’d slept better the previous couple of nights because she knew Jakob was there, across the hall. Why that made anything better, Amy had no idea. She hadn’t survived some terrible trauma that made her fear nightmares. Whatever trauma she was undergoing was devoid of blood and too old to have that much impact.
And yet, her eyes were sunk so deep in her head, the sockets were starting to look cavernous. She’d used more makeup than usual this morning in hopes of covering the bruises beneath her eyes, but wasn’t sure it had helped much.
The first thing out of Dad’s mouth had been “You look like hell.”
What could she say? “Oh, gee, thanks.”
He was still grumbling when she kissed him again right before he got into his rental car.
“You come and see me soon,” he ordered her.
Her smile trembled. “I promise,” she whispered, and sank into the comfort of a big hug that made her feel very young and safe again, if only for a minute.
Jakob had leaned against the rear fender of her car, crossed his ankles and said nothing after his own goodbye to his father. He waited until Dad was gone to raise his eyebrows at her.
“He’s right. Did something happen last night?”
“What could happen?” she asked sharply.
“Your mother might have called again. Or you let curiosity overcome you.”
Oh, boy. They both knew what she had to be curious about.
“Neither. I was restless, that’s all. Didn’t sleep well. There’s a reason they call it beauty sleep.” Amy shrugged. She studied him. “Don’t you wear a suit to work?”
A smile deepened a crease in one cheek. “Sometimes. When I have meetings. As it happens, I don’t plan to go to work today.”
Her arms tightened around her hobo-style handbag as if it was a beloved and well-worn stuffed bunny. “Well, enjoy your day.”
The smile broadened. “I thought we’d do something.”
She was probably gaping. “Do something?”
“I was thinking the zoo. Or maybe the Japanese Garden.”
“You’re serious.”
He laughed at her astonishment.
“When I can’t get into the mountains, the Japanese Garden is my favorite place to go when I need to think. Haven’t you been?”
Amy shook her head. “Mom’s garden has been all I can handle.”
“Come on,” he coaxed. “Try it. You’ll like it.”
“Don’t you ever have to go to work?”
“I don’t take much vacation, and I have my phone if somebody needs to reach me.”
She’d intended to go home and actually focus on work herself. She couldn’t afford vacations. Amy had a suspicion, though, that she wouldn’t have gotten any more done today than she had yesterday. Jakob’s suggestion was tempting, as was the chance to spend more time with him.
“Fine,” she mumbled, not all that graciously.
“I’ll drive.” He pushed away from the car and started for his Subaru.
After only the smallest hesitation, Amy trailed after him.
Ten minutes after walking inside the five-and-a-half-acre enclave within the city, Amy was in love. She suspected every leaf and tree trunk had been shaped and positioned as carefully as an artist laid down each brushstroke of paint, but the whole was astonishingly natural and just plain beautiful. Jakob told her the aim of a Japanese garden was to create a sense of harmony and tranquility, and she had to admit it worked.
Little of the city noise reached them. For peaceful stretches, the only sound was the crunch of their footsteps on gravel paths and the trickle of water. Maple leaves were just beginning to turn color, adding splashes of yellow and orange here and there among the soothing green. Moss-covered stone pagodas and lanterns accented vistas. Occasionally Jakob gently nudged her to sit for a few minutes on one of the strategically placed benches. They hardly talked at first.
Finally, as they leaned on the railing of an arching bridge and contemplated the upper lake, Amy sighed. “I can see why you like to come here.”
He looked more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. “It’s an irony since my first love is nature untouched, but if nature is going to be manipulated, they did a damn good job here. It’s one of my favorite places. If I ever buy a house and actually have a yard, I want a Japanese garden of my own.”
Amy smiled, feeling peaceful herself. “Are you tired of my soap opera yet?” she asked after a minute, as she had before.
“Still riveted,” he assured her. “You figured out the next act?”
“You were right. I do need to know who he is.”
She was aware that Jakob had turned his head and was studying her.
“You feeling okay about Dad?”
She straightened away from the railing and stretched. “To my amazement. I’m glad he came.”
“Yeah, I am, too. He and I got a few things ironed out, too.”
“Like what?” she asked, scrutinizing him.
Jakob only smiled. “Nothing that matters here.”
They resumed strolling.
“Shall we have tea here, or go out for lunch?”
“Oh, tea, please.”
A traditionally clad woman escorted them along the stones of the inner garden path, pausing to allow them to rinse their hands in a water basin. They had to all but crawl through a tiny door into the tea room within the larger traditional house. Amy found the intimacy of the small enclosure unsettling. She reminded herself that she’d spent plenty of time with Jakob in his vehicle, which was considerably smaller. She finally decided that what made this different was that they were facing each other, seated on the mats, with no passing land or cityscape to be a distraction. In fact, there wasn’t much of anything to look at except him. Narrow, paper-covered windows didn’t give her an excuse to look away. It was hard not to be aware of his sheer size and masculinity. Her gaze kept glancing off details she didn’t want to notice, like the way the fabric of his chinos stretched over strong thigh muscles, or the thickness of his wrists. His hands—she fixated on them for an unnerving length of time. He had good hands—long-fingered, huge compared to hers but also capable of holding the delicate teacup without appearing clumsy.
The tea ceremony helped her relax again. She was being silly. Of course she was aware of him physically, given that she’d barely met him before as an adult. The details that made him weren’t familiar from a lifetime, the way they normally would be. She was taking snapshots, so to speak. Nothing was different here than at her kitchen table. He was being nice to her, that’s all. He and his father—yes, her dad, too—were being the family for which she’d always yearned. Be grateful, she told herself, and quit questioning.
The silence went from feeling like a space she ought to fill to being comfortable. She momentarily closed her eyes and inhaled the intoxicating fragrance of the tea.
“I recognized the name Steven Hardy,” Jakob said.
Amy went still. “What?”
“I wouldn’t have said anything if you’d decided not to research him.” His eyes were dark, troubled.
“You know him?” she whispered, a kind of horror creeping over her.
“No.” He set down his teacup very carefully and looked at her. “It may be a common name. But there’s a Steven Hardy who is in the news pretty regularly here in Portland. In fact, he has been this past week. I’m surprised you didn’t notice it.”
“I haven’t read the paper.”
“He’s about the right age.” Jakob hesitated. “I’ve seen pictures.”
“Oh, my God.”
“The resemblance isn’t so obvious it ever struck me before,” he continued, sounding reluctant, “but once I knew the name of the guy who...” He stopped. “I can see it, that’s all.”
“Did he go to Wakefield College?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t done a search or anything like that. I told you I wouldn’t.”
She nodded, feeling herself ease at her belief that Jakob had kept his word. She took a deep breath for courage. “Why is this Steven Hardy in the news?”
“Ready for some irony? He’s prominent in the Multnomah County District Attorney’s office. He handles the high-profile cases. Word has it he’s likely to replace the district attorney when he retires—except I’ve also read speculation Hardy may run for U.S. Representative to the House.”
Amy stared at him in shock. “He’s a prosecutor?”
He dipped his head.
“You must be wrong.”
“I told you I don’t know. This guy may not be your father. But...”
“You think he is.”
Jakob grimaced. “Yeah. I do.”
“Oh, my God,” Amy said again. Stricken, she didn’t know what she felt beyond shock. “It doesn’t make sense.” She focused again on his face. “This is why you said what you did, isn’t it? About him having good with the bad. Being complicated.”
“Maybe,” he admitted.
She opened her mouth and then closed it before she could once again say, Oh, my God. That seemed to be the extent of her capability for speech.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have told you now,” Jakob said, sounding remorseful.
“Can we go?” She began struggling to her feet.
He rose to his so quickly, he was able to help her up. “I did this wrong.”
From This Day On Page 11
