A Father's Gift

by Andrea Edwards

  “Why don’t you start at the other end?” she suggested. “I don’t really need help around here.”

  “You sure?” Burt was frowning at her like a stubborn old bulldog. “Ellen said—”

  “I don’t care what Ellen said,” Cassie snapped. “If you want to do inventory, do it down there.”

  “But Ellen said you shouldn’t—”

  “If you want to live a long life, do it down there!” Cassie shouted, immediately feeling better. She was herself. There was no need to worry.

  Burt left with a great deal of grumbling about only wanting to help, but she wasn’t left alone very long. She’d barely made a start counting the lengths of copper pipe when Ollie came wandering over. He probably wanted to go out, so she put her papers down and let him out into the tiny yard behind her store.

  She sat down on the edge of the loading dock while he meandered around, sniffing at the scraggly scrub trees and bushes at the back. The sun was pleasantly warm, the breeze refreshing. She looked down at her knuckles, all scraped from when she’d hit Jack.

  She felt like crying.

  “This is so dumb,” she said aloud, blinking away the sudden wetness in her eyes. “I am absolutely fine.”

  Ollie came trotting over to put his head on her lap. She petted his head slowly, trying to gather up the fragments of her emotions.

  “Hope you weren’t too attached to him,” she told the dog. “I think I was always meant to be alone. I like it that way, actually.”

  She half expected a bolt of lightning to strike her or a sudden mass of dark clouds to cover the sun. “Yeah, I enjoyed being with Jack,” she admitted. “But I knew all along it was only a temporary thing.”

  Ollie sat back, cocking his head to one side as he looked at her.

  “Oh, I’m sure he’ll be a father to junior, here. He’s not the type to run off. But that doesn’t mean he has to be anything to me.”

  Ollie tilted his head to the other side.

  “We can still be friends. It’s not like I’m going to refuse to talk to him ever again.”

  Ollie yawned and turned to watch a truck drive by. Cassie took the hint and got to her feet.

  “Want to go back in?” She led him over to the door. “You know, I have to tell the family one of these days. You got any ideas how?”

  Ollie just trotted by her, hurrying down the aisle to his bedding. Obviously he felt she’d gotten into this mess; it was up to her to get herself out.

  Cassie just sighed and went back to her inventory.

  “Would you guys like anything to drink?” Cassie asked as Fiona and Sam settled down in the living room. She was starting to wish she’d waited a few more days before calling them over. Or a few more months. Confession wasn’t a concept she was very comfortable with. “Iced tea? Lemonade? Orange juice?”

  “Let’s get your news over first,” Fiona said.

  Cassie looked at her sister and couldn’t help making a face. Even a year ago, Fiona was nowhere near as take-charge as she was now. It had to be the marriage thing.

  “I don’t know where to start,” Cassie said.

  “Start at the beginning.”

  What good would it do to go all the way to the beginning, back to when she’d first met Jack? Fiona and Sam didn’t need to hear about all the fun she and Jack had had together. Or the way she seemed able to talk to him about anything. None of that mattered now. Fact was fact. And her biggest fact right now was—

  Cassie took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant,” she said.

  There was a long, heavy moment of silence. Long enough for Cassie to worry that they wouldn’t be as accepting as she’d assumed.

  “Does Jack know?” Samantha finally asked.

  Cassie considered arguing that it didn’t have to be Jack, but only for a moment. She hadn’t been going with anyone before Jack, and everybody knew that she wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of a woman. She nodded.

  “Are the two of you going to do anything?” Samantha asked. “I mean, together.”

  “Nope.”

  Pregnancy didn’t have to mean marriage anymore. Certainly not marriage without love. And she was not in love.

  She was fond of Jack. She liked him a lot. She cared about his welfare, wanted him to be happy and safe and healthy. She really enjoyed the time they spent together, liked the way his laughter sent shivers down her spine and couldn’t think of a better way to go to sleep than wrapped in his arms.

  But she was not in love with him.

  She hadn’t loved Ron. She’d been foolish back then, thinking that she had to be like everyone else—wanting to be paired off. She’d learned since then that love wasn’t for her. So she couldn’t be in love with Jack.

  No way. Never. Not in a million years.

  Cassie took a deep breath and went on. “I’m going to keep the baby,” she said. “I’m going to be a single parent.”

  No one said anything. Fiona didn’t even look at her.

  “I have my business so I’m financially comfortable. And I don’t have to worry about pregnancy-leave policies or day care. Since I’m the employer, I can make things up as I need them.” Then Cassie shrugged and tried a smile, but didn’t quite make it. “And I figured all the rest of you, including the guys, would be there to support me.”

  “Of course, we will, Cass,” Sam replied. “You didn’t have to say anything.”

  Cassie smiled, but her sisters’ faces were a tad blurred. Sam had rushed in with her support—but she was always trying to keep everyone happy. Fiona still hadn’t said anything.

  Did she disapprove of what Cassie had done? And if she did, what was it that bothered her? The fact that Cassie was having a baby out of wedlock or the fact that she was keeping it? Did Fiona think that her actions would bring shame on the family? Things didn’t seem to work that way these days. For the first time in her life, Cassie hoped that Fiona wasn’t angry with her.

  “You know, it’s kind of funny—” Cassie shook her head. “I’m—the first one of us who’s going to have a baby.”

  “You were always the leader,” Samantha said.

  “No.” It was Fiona speaking, but it didn’t seem to be her voice. It sounded like a timid, frightened mouse speaking from a great distance, and with great difficulty.

  “Huh?” Cassie said, staring at Fiona. Her face was white, her eyes almost scared-looking.

  “Your baby won’t be the first,” she said.

  Cassie and Sam just looked at her. Neither of them said a word. Even Ollie had stopped pestering for attention.

  “I had a baby when I was away at college.” Fiona paused to take a deep breath. “A little girl.”

  Fiona’s gaze went from one to the other, switching back and forth as if afraid to settle on either one. Cassie didn’t know about Samantha, but she was stupefied. Shocked. She didn’t know what to say.

  “I can’t believe that you, of all people, would have done something like that,” Samantha said.

  “You were always so perfect,” Cassie added.

  “Yeah, right.” Suddenly a dark pain filled Fiona’s face. “That’s why I could never tell.”

  For a moment, Cassie saw into the hell that her sister must have faced, and took her into her arms. Fiona burst into tears and then Samantha was there, holding her, too. Cassie’s eyes grew watery and she tried valiantly to blink it away.

  “What happened to your baby, Fi?” she whispered. “Did you give her up for adoption?”

  Fiona’s tears slowed after a moment and Cassie could feel her sister trying to compose herself. Finally Fiona nodded.

  “Did you know who adopted her?” Samantha asked.

  “No. Not for a long, long time, anyway.” Fiona straightened, pulling away from them both as if refusing to lean any longer. “You remember the girl I donated the bone marrow to? Kate from Chicago?”

  Good Lord. Fiona had given her bone marrow to save her own child and still had never told them. Cassie felt so weak and wimpy.

  �
��Alex was hired by her adoptive family to find me,” Fiona went on. “Well, he did. And, as the old cliché goes, the rest is history.”

  “Does Kate know you’re her real mother?” Samantha asked.

  “I’m her biological mother,” Fiona corrected gently. “Her real mother is the one who raised her. But no, she doesn’t know. Not yet.”

  “When are you going to tell her?” Samantha asked.

  “When she’s ready.” Fiona shrugged. “And I don’t know when that’ll be.”

  “Haven’t you missed her?” Samantha questioned. “Wondered how she was doing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you even think about keeping her?” Cassie asked.

  “I was in college, Cass. I had no skills, no job. No guts.” Fiona took a deep breath that made it seem like she was in the middle of an argument she’d already had many times with herself. “She has a wonderful set of parents who have given her far more than I ever could have.”

  “Yeah, but—” Cassie shut her mouth. Going over Fiona’s decision was pointless. All it would do was cause her pain and Cassie didn’t want that. “I guess I’m luckier,” she said slowly. “I’m able to take care of my baby.”

  “It won’t be easy,” Fiona warned her. “I see kids every day in school from single-parent households and I know all the challenges they face.”

  Cassie found herself studying the split skin on her knuckles—she’d really whacked Jack a good one. Yeah, she knew raising a child alone would be hard, but she had a big family. A big, accepting, buttinsky family. So she would never really be alone.

  Suddenly she noticed the silence surrounding her and looked up to see both her sisters staring at her, their faces wrinkled with question. A question that they didn’t have to articulate.

  “I’m presuming that Jack will be involved in raising our child.” She studied the bruises on her knuckles for a long moment before looking up again. “But we’re not getting married. No way, under no circumstances. Never.”

  “That’s pretty strong, Cass,” Fiona said.

  Cassie got to her feet. All this emotion was making her thirsty. She needed some lemonade and disappeared into the kitchen. “Having a baby is one thing, getting hitched for a lifetime is another.”

  She turned from opening the refrigerator to find Fiona in the doorway. Frowning.

  “So not getting married is your decision,” Fiona said, sounding like she was looking to place the blame.

  This new Fiona was definitely hard to take. Cassie straightened. “Yeah. He didn’t offer, but even if he had, I wouldn’t have accepted. I don’t need another man to let me down.”

  “Ron was a jerk.” Sam had joined them in the kitchen.

  “And Daddy didn’t mean to leave.”

  Cassie just busied herself getting glasses out of the cabinet. “I presume you all want some lemonade, too?”

  “Cassie, it’s time you let yourself trust somebody,” Fiona said.

  Cassie just closed her eyes briefly, then began to pour.

  “You keep turning people away and pretty soon there’ll be nobody left for you,” Fiona went on. “You’ve got to stop fighting with everybody.”

  Maybe that was the way she wanted it, Cassie wanted to shout. Maybe she didn’t want to share her life with anybody. Maybe she would rather stay alone than be left alone.

  Maybe she was afraid that if she stopped fighting, someone would find their way into her heart—and she’d learned long ago that love only left you crying.

  “Good night, Daddy,” his girls chorused.

  Jack paused at their bedroom door and flicked off the light. He’d already gone through the standard bedtime ritual—the story, a kiss for each daughter, and a how-was-your-day chat. He’d done the whole nine yards and now they were down to the wheedling-and-delaying stage.

  “That’s it, ladies,” he said. “Settle down and go to sleep.”

  “I hope your face gets all better.”

  “Yeah. Don’t walk into no more doors.”

  “I’m fine.” That part about walking into a door was rather lame, but the kids had been peppering him with questions the other day and it had been the best he could come up with. “I’ll be more careful next time. Now go to sleep.”

  “Daddy.”

  Their one-word chorus caught him just as he was about to swing the door shut. “Now what?”

  “I hope Cassie gets all better, too.”

  “Yeah, we need more lessons.”

  Jack felt his hands tighten for a moment. “You’re taking lessons at the YMCA,” he reminded them. “The ones with Cassie were only to get you started until you could take the real lessons.”

  “But we want Cassie.” Their wails filled the bedroom, bringing a tension to the air that he didn’t really want to deal with right now.

  How did he answer that? “No more talking. Sleep tight.” He quickly closed their door and made his escape.

  He should have been more careful these past weeks. After all, it wasn’t just him anymore, but the girls, too. If he had stayed uninvolved, as he should have, he wouldn’t have to worry about hurting them through his own stupidities. His hand went up to his face. Not to mention fewer bruises for himself.

  “All right, what’s going on?”

  Jack almost jumped high enough to slap the moon. Walking along and studying the fibers in the rug as he’d been doing, he hadn’t expected to meet anyone. Not even Aunt Hattie. “I thought you were in your room, reading.”

  “Normally I would be,” she replied. “But things haven’t been normal in this house the past few days.”

  Damn. He didn’t want to deal with anybody. He just wanted to find himself a hidey-hole and crawl in. Talking about his personal problems had never been a strong point with him. As far as Jack was concerned, he was the one who got himself into them, he would get himself out. Period, end of discussion.

  “What’s the problem between you and Cassandra?”

  “Why does there have to be a problem between the two of us?” he asked. “For all you know, I could be thinking about a paper I’m writing.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Jimmy Jack,” his aunt sniffed.

  “I’m going to read for a while.”

  “You’d best fix whatever’s ailing between you and Cassandra. Foolish pride don’t keep a body warm at night.”

  Was he being foolish? He didn’t think so. Realistic was more like it. Anyone with an ounce of sense would interpret Cassie’s secrets the same way—that she didn’t care about him.

  “I’ll be reading for quite a while,” he said. “So don’t worry about the light being on.”

  He hoped that his aunt would read between the lines and see what he really was saying. The emphasis with which she stomped her feet as she made her way upstairs was encouraging.

  Jack went into his office and picked up the pile of recreational reading sitting on his desk. It was a good assortment— newsmagazines, a few sports things, an investment newsletter, and a thick publication rating all the new cars that would come out in the fall. There was enough in hand to keep him busy until the owls called it a night.

  After several minutes of staring at the pile in his lap, Jack determined that nothing was ever as easy as it looked. Now he had to choose which magazine to start with. Quickly growing aggravated, Jack sat up and let the magazines fall to the floor.

  His problem wasn’t which periodical to read. His problem was what to do about Cassie—the woman who was carrying his child.

  Yes, he’d been hurt the other night—he rubbed his jawboth physically and emotionally. But it didn’t really change anything. Certainly not the fact that she was pregnant with his child and he had certain responsibilities. His pride had been hurt—still was, for that matter—but that wasn’t his child’s fault. They were adults and needed to work something out. He stood and, leaving the magazines where they fell, went outside.

  He walked slowly over to Cassie’s house, pausing at the edge of his yard to ponder the dis
advantages of small towns. If he were living and dating someone in Chicago, the odds were high that it would have taken him at least a half hour to get to her house. That would have been plenty of time to think, to figure out what he wanted to say and how to say it.

  For a moment he considered walking around the block a few times but he dismissed the thought. Merrills weren’t cowards. And a delay wouldn’t help him come up with any better words. He was here now and he was a man. There wasn’t anything left to do but to do it.

  He crossed over into her yard. There was no mystery to what he had to say. Will you marry me? should do it just fine.

  He walked up on the porch. The truck in the drive said she was home; lights in the house said she was still up. A man couldn’t ask for anything more.

  Ollie announced Jack’s presence and, within moments, the porch light turned on and the door opened. She was wearing one of those short little summer nightshirts—the kind that brought a wandering man home and kept him there.

  “Evenin’, Cassie.”

  “What do you want at this hour of the night?” Her welcome was hidden deep in her heart, but that was a woman’s right.

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  “We’ve talked enough.”

  “We did talk a good bit.” Women were like racehorses, beautiful creatures but a little on the skittish side. A man had to show the agreeable side of his nature, lest they bolted. “We just didn’t talk about the right things.”

  “I suppose you have it all figured out as to what we should talk about?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  “Go to hell, you pompous ass,” she said, slamming the door on her own words.

  He stood there for a long moment. What did she want him to do, kick the damn door down? Wasn’t it enough that he was here? But Daddy had told him doing right wasn’t always a quick trip down the interstate. Jack knew he had to give it another try.

  “Cassie, open the door, please.”

  “Go away!” she shouted. “Or I’ll call the police.”

  “I’m just asking that you talk to me. They’ll probably recommend that you humor me.” He wasn’t sure that they would, but it sounded good. “So, let’s talk, please.”