The Good Father
Page 10
I nodded. The truth was, ninety percent of the guest list was made up of people I’d never met, so I was completely dependent on her to know who was a talker and who was quiet and what to do with the people who didn’t fall neatly into one category or the other.
One thing about the wedding that made me sad was that my father wouldn’t be there. He would have loved to walk me down the aisle and see me marry Dale. I tried not to think about it, but every book on weddings that Mollie shoved into my hands talked about roles for the bride’s parents. I was used to not having a mother, so I didn’t feel the same heart pang that I did when I read about the bride’s father. One of the books said that the father/daughter dance was one of the “most cherished moments in any woman’s lifetime.” I read that sentence over and over again. I wanted my father back. We hadn’t always gotten along, but he was the one person I knew loved me more than he loved himself. I’d lost him to pneumonia only ten months ago. It had been unexpected and devastating and the only thing that had gotten me through that time was Dale and his family.
James offered to give me away, but that felt too weird to me. I didn’t say that, exactly. I didn’t know what to say when he suggested it, but Dale seemed to pick up on my discomfort and suggested we walk down the aisle together. That appalled Mollie at first, but she got over it. “You’re both adults,” she said. “I guess you can do it whatever way you want.” I was grateful to Dale for that. Every once in a while, he did something that told me he understood me better than I thought.
Mollie could have gone on all night with that chart on the table, but I heard a whimper from down the hall and saw my chance to make a break.
“I’m going to see if Alissa needs any help before I go back to the B and B,” I said, pushing back my chair.
Dale gave me an envious smile for coming up with a way to escape. He stood up himself, bent over and kissed his mother’s cheek. “Thanks for doing this, Mom,” he said.
“Well, it must be done,” she said, as if she wasn’t enjoying every single second of the planning.
Dale gave me a quick kiss on the lips. “Call me when you get home,” he said, and I knew he planned to sleep over at my place.
“Okay.” I headed for the hallway. “Later.”
Hannah was crying full throttle when I knocked on Alissa’s closed bedroom door. “It’s me, Ali,” I said. “Want some help?”
“In a sec!” She sounded breathless. I thought I heard a man’s voice behind the baby’s cries. Did she have her TV on? I heard something small fall to the floor. “Damn it!” she said.
I opened the door a crack. “You okay?” I asked. “Can I come in?”
She was bending over her keyboard, the screaming baby precariously balanced in one arm, the mouse in her other hand. A young blond guy stared out from her computer monitor and I knew I’d caught her talking to someone on Skype.
“What’s going on?” the guy asked. “Do you need to—”
His image disappeared from the screen as Alissa clicked her mouse. I moved forward to take Hannah from her and Alissa turned toward me, her face flushed. She bit her lip. “Don’t tell,” she said.
“Was that Will?” I asked, lifting Hannah to my shoulder. “Shh, baby, shh,” I whispered against her warm little ear.
“Promise,” Alissa begged. “Please, Robin.”
I could feel Hannah’s heavy diaper through her onesie. “She’s wet,” I said, moving to the changing table. “I’ll change her.”
“Oh, shit.” Alissa sat down on the edge of her bed. “Please, Robin. If you tell Dale, he’ll—”
“They’ll know you were talking to him without me telling them, won’t they?” I asked as I undid the snaps on Hannah’s onesie. The baby was crying so hard her little body shook. “They monitor everything you do online.”
“This was the only time,” she said. “He had a right to see his daughter.”
“Her diaper’s soaked.” I felt angry with Alissa, not so much for talking to Will as for ignoring Hannah’s needs.
“I was just going to change it,” she said.
“It’s been wet so long, it’s cold, poor baby.”
“I love him,” Alissa said.
I looked up from the changing table. “Oh, Alissa,” I said, more to myself than to her. I doubted she could hear me over the crying. I put a fresh diaper on the baby and lifted her to my shoulder again. Almost instantly, she settled down. “She hates being wet,” I said. “You’d hate it, too.” I sat down in the rocker and patted Hannah’s back. Did all babies smell this sweet? I rested my cheek on her downy blond hair.
Alissa was chewing her lower lip. “Please, please don’t tell,” she pleaded.
“I won’t,” I said. My anger was losing its steam. I wanted Alissa to be able to talk to me and turning her in wasn’t going to help.
“I hate my family,” she said. “I mean, not you. But they’re all so old. I have a brother who’s practically old enough to be my father. He doesn’t understand me at all. And my parents! You know what they’re like, Robin. All they care about is money and power.”
“That’s not true,” I said. “They love you and Hannah very much and they care about your happiness and your future. They don’t want to see you throw it away on someone who doesn’t deserve you.” I couldn’t believe what I was saying. The Hendricks party line was spilling out of my mouth, and I realized it had been my father’s line about Travis, as well. How could I possibly be sounding like my father? I shuddered, pressing Hannah closer to me.
“The only reason they—and you—think he doesn’t deserve me is because he doesn’t have money and power, right?” Alissa asked. “Isn’t that right?”
“You know all the reasons, Ali. And maybe they’re not fair. Maybe they have too much to do with protecting your father’s image, but Will didn’t exactly do anything to win them over. He snuck around with you. He got you pregnant. He gave them plenty of reasons not to approve of him.”
“Robin, don’t tell! I’m begging you, please don’t. It was only this once and I wanted him to see—”
“I told you I won’t, and I won’t, but that doesn’t mean I can’t talk to you about it. I love you, Ali. I know it’s been hard to be cut off from your friends and you’ve been brave. I think you just miss Will because you’re isolated. It’ll be better when you’re back in school.”
“No, it won’t.” She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “I have no friends left. They’ve all moved on without me. And that’s so not true about why I miss Will. I love him. He’s Hannah’s father and he can’t even see her.”
I got to my feet and laid Hannah back in her bassinet, then sat next to Alissa on the bed. I hugged her and she hung on to me. “Don’t be mad at me,” she said. “I couldn’t stand it if you were mad at me.”
“I’m not,” I said. “I understand how you feel. You can talk to me about it, all right? Let me help you think it through.”
I thought of the man, only a boy, really, whose face I’d seen on the monitor, but it was Travis’s face I saw. They looked nothing alike, but that didn’t seem to matter to my imagination. Ever since I’d recognized Travis in Dale’s eyes, he’d been hammering against my memory to let him in. I didn’t think I could push him out any longer. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to.
I walked back to the B and B, thinking about all that had happened between Travis and me. It still felt wrong, the way my father had kept us apart. Now, there seemed a way I could right that wrong through Alissa. I thought of the image of Will on the screen again. There’d been sincerity in his face, hadn’t there? Caring? I’d talk to Dale about it. I would right a wrong.
* * *
The next morning, Dale gave me a ride to my cardiologist’s office for a routine appointment. The office wasn’t far from the B and B and usually I’d walk, but having Dale drive me would give me a chance to talk to him about Alissa and Will. As he started the car and backed it out of the driveway, though, I thought I might chicken out. What was I
afraid of? His anger? His disapproval?
I’d been so nervous when we first got engaged and the press was suddenly all over me. I was interviewed for every newspaper and magazine in the eastern part of North Carolina, it seemed, and I even made a couple of local TV appearances. I’d been so worried I might somehow hold Dale back politically, since I didn’t come from his world of super wealth and privilege. James had actually told me to please wipe words like awesome and cool from my vocabulary. When I shared my doubts with Dale before the first interview, though, he gave me a little pep talk.
“You’re an asset to me, Robin,” he insisted. “Your story is a sympathetic one—this innocent young girl who spent her teen years cut off from her peers by illness, fighting for her life, no chance to live a normal adolescence with her friends. No chance to have a boyfriend. Nearly dying. Getting a heart in the nick of time because of the generosity of strangers.”
He’d been right about being an asset to him. Everyone in Beaufort seemed to love me and they loved my story. I’d been photographed so many times that people on the street recognized me even more quickly than they did Dale.
As we pulled out of the driveway, though, I remembered his words from that pep talk: So sweet. No boyfriends. Innocent young girl. A couple of weeks ago, those descriptions would have felt just fine to me, but a couple of weeks ago, I wasn’t haunted by Travis and my baby.
“You’re sure you don’t want me to go in with you to your appointment?” he asked as we turned onto Craven Street.
“It’s just a quickie,” I said. “No big deal.” It was sweet that he wanted to go with me and I’d let him come to a couple of my appointments, but having him there made me feel like I was a kid again, my father glued to my side.
We were both quiet for a minute, and I tried to get my courage up to talk about Alissa. I finally took a deep breath and dove in.
“I think Alissa’s still in love with Will,” I said.
He gave a little laugh. “Oh, I don’t think so,” he said. “She’s done with all that.”
“I think that’s why she’s so down.” I didn’t dare mention that I’d caught her talking to Will. “She misses him,” I added.
“She has the baby blues,” he said. “Besides, I don’t think she ever was in love with him. She’s just rebellious.” He glanced at me. “I love my little sister, but she’s a screwup, in case you haven’t noticed.” He chuckled. “She intentionally picked a guy she knew would piss my parents off. A guy with a felon for a dad and trash for a mother.”
“That’s pretty harsh,” I said. “Will’s not responsible for who his parents are.”
He glanced at me with a frown. “Robin, this is a done deal,” he said. “Finished. Why even bring it up now? I’m running for office, in case you don’t remember. The last thing I need is to have my sister’s lowlife ex-boyfriend come out of the woodwork.”
“Is everything about politics with you?” I asked, although I felt the thin ice under my feet. Dale and I never argued. I never argued with anyone. That “peace and calm” mantra still floated somewhere in my subconscious. But I knew I was edging toward a good fight with him now.
“Oh, come on,” he said. “How can you even ask that?”
“You’re always talking about my ‘sympathetic story.’ Like marrying me is going to win you votes.” I was going too far. I felt like saying mean things to him. What was wrong with me? I didn’t even believe what I was implying. I could see the color rise in Dale’s cheeks and his hands clench the steering wheel.
“Hey,” he said sharply. “I fell in love with you. Not your so-called story or what it could do for me.”
I thought of the things I’d left out of my story during the interviews. Travis and the baby. The parts of my existence I’d erased. Exposing those truths about myself would be the end of my future with Dale, my work at the B and B, and the perfect life I was building in Beaufort. I was certain that if Dale had known about the baby from the start, he never would have asked me out, much less asked me to marry him. I would have been just as low in his eyes as Alissa. A screwup. Even worse, I’d deceived him by keeping it from him, the way Debra had kept her first marriage from him. He’d be so hurt. Burying that part of myself hadn’t seemed wrong before. Now, though, thoughts of a baby I didn’t know and a guy I once did were rolling around in my head both day and night. I was living a lie. Suddenly I felt as though I had a noose around my neck.
“What if she still loves him?”
“She’s seventeen. She’ll get over it.” He turned the corner. “Don’t make problems where none exist, Robbie,” he said. “There are things you don’t know and have no need to know, so just trust me and forget it.”
That stunned me into silence for a minute. What was he keeping from me? And how dare he? Of course, I wasn’t exactly letting him in on everything about my life, either. “Don’t treat me like a child,” I said. “What do you mean, I have ‘no need to know’?”
“It’s not a big deal, all right?” he said. “And what’s with you today? Alissa’s over him, so don’t go planting any ideas in her head. I think the wedding must be giving you…I don’t know, romantic notions or something. Will is out of the picture. Alissa has my parents and you and me to help her raise Hannah. She’ll eventually find some nice guy to marry who’ll love her and the baby and it will be settled. All right?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I looked out the window again. We passed through a residential neighborhood filled with Beaufort’s small, inviting coastal cottages. Broad porches and white rockers. The house we were buying was very much like these.
“Do you honestly think she still has feelings for him?” Dale’s voice had softened. “Has she told you that?”
“No…I’m just guessing from the way she’s acting.”
“If you seriously think she still cares about him, help her see the light, okay? You’re closer to her than any of us. You have more influence on her, so help her get over him, all right?”
“All right,” I said, but I was thinking, No, it’s not all right. I wondered if Will knew his name was not on Hannah’s birth certificate. If that bothered him. “He could try to get parental rights,” I said. I was having trouble just letting this go.
Dale looked at me like I was out of my mind. “We’ve gotten that all settled,” he said. “He’s out of the picture and fine with it. Now Alissa can move forward.”
I stared out the window at the street in front of us. I felt as though I’d failed Alissa with the way I’d handled this and I suddenly thought I might cry. I touched my throat where the noose was tightening. I’d never felt as trapped as I did at that moment. Not even a failing heart had made me feel this way.
* * *
My appointment went perfectly. My cardiologist gave me a hug before I walked out her door and I had the feeling she’d picked up on my stress even though I’d told her I was doing great. “Enjoy this time,” she said, holding my shoulders and looking me straight in the eye. “You only get married once.” She gave my shoulders a squeeze. “Hopefully,” she added.
I left her office and began walking toward the waterfront. Tourists dotted the street, strolling, eating ice-cream cones, snapping pictures. I saw a couple of the B and B’s guests across Front Street from me and waved. Then, in the space of a single block, I saw two men who looked like Travis. At least, I imagined they looked like Travis. I twisted their features in my imagination to make them his. I just wanted one of them to be him. I wanted it so badly that it hurt. I’m cracking up, I thought, and I knew I was as trapped by my own head as I was by everything else.
15
Erin
I was sipping coffee in my brown leather chair at JumpStart, typing a post to my Harley’s Dad group when my iPad beeped to alert me to an email. It was from my supervisor, Gene, at the pharmacy. We’re looking forward to having you back a week from Monday, the email read. I guessed that was his way of not-so-subtly reminding me I was expected back. I was dreading my return to wor
k, but now it was a matter of money as well as what Judith called a “need to reengage with the real world.” My Harley’s Dad friends were my real world, I told her. Nobody realer than the people who understood exactly how I felt.
I was still a little afraid that I’d screw up at work the way I did when I tried to go back the first time. My head was clearer now and I wasn’t totally numb like I’d been in the beginning, but I was still overwhelmed by sadness, and the thought of “reengaging with the real world” tired me out.
Right, I answered Gene. See you then.
I was reading a post written by Harley’s dad himself when, from the corner of my eye, I noticed a man and little girl come out of the men’s room and head for the counter. I sat up straight. Carolyn? Of course not. She didn’t even look like Carolyn, but in the irrational and sometimes scary part of my mind, I could manage to see my daughter in any little girl. Carolyn had been blonde, though, while this child had brown hair. She held the man’s hand as they walked toward the counter. He was in his early twenties, I thought, barely. He was dressed in old jeans and a gray T-shirt with a dirty, once-white canvas bag slung over one shoulder. It seemed strange to see a man and child together in the coffee shop, especially on a weekday morning, and especially coming out of the men’s room together, although Michael had taken Carolyn into the men’s room any number of times. Still, could this guy have kidnapped her? Was he abusing her? Maybe she needed me to rescue her?
Stop it, I told myself. The girl seemed perfectly at ease with him, holding his hand, leaning against his leg as he ordered something I couldn’t hear. Her hair was a little straggly and her bangs hung low over her eyes. She wore pale blue shorts, red sneakers and a blue-and-white-striped shirt. I could see a couple of stains on the front of it even from where I sat. A small pink purse hung from her arm, the same arm that clutched a stuffed animal to her chest. She was so darling. I didn’t want to look at her. The way I felt scared me. Seeing a little girl whole and alive filled me with such longing it was almost unbearable, and this one, with her straggly hair and dirty shirt, looked like she needed a little more TLC than she was getting. She looked like she needed a mommy.