The Dad Next Door. C.J. Carmichael

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СКАЧАТЬ times—like now—they could seem to care just a little too much.

      After Gertie’s call, Allison pulled out her mother’s recipe for lasagna. No sooner were the onions and garlic sautéing for the tomato sauce, than the phone rang again.

      This time it was her dad. “Hello, sweetheart. Happy birthday. Are you having a good day?”

      Without leaving time for an answer, he added, “Have you heard from Tyler?”

      “He called to wish me a happy birthday,” she admitted. “But he was just being polite.” She had to make that completely clear, since her dad was having difficulty accepting her broken engagement.

      “He still loves you.”

      “I don’t…”

      “It’s not too late to go through with the wedding. Tyler’s a nice guy, with a successful business. He’d be a good provider.”

      “Dad, I can take care of myself.”

      “Sure you can,” her father said. But she knew that despite the fact that she’d lived on her own for years and ran a successful business, he didn’t really believe that. He’d always been protective, and he’d become even more so since he and her mother divorced.

      “I’m okay on my own, Dad. Honestly.”

      He sighed and she could tell he was giving up on the lecture—for now. “We still on for dinner?”

      “Of course. I’m bringing lasagna.” Even after all these years alone, her father had not learned how to cook for himself.

      “Good. I bought a nice cake from the bakery. It’s chocolate—your favorite. We’ll have a real celebration.”

      “Thanks, Dad. I’m looking forward to it.” She heard the beep that told her another call was waiting. This time it was her mother, in New York City.

      “I’ve bought you a plane ticket to come and visit us for Thanksgiving. We’ll do some shopping. Take in a few shows.”

      “That sounds wonderful.” She got along well with her stepfather and he was always tactful enough to make sure she had plenty of one-on-one time with her mom.

      “In the meantime, are you sure you’re okay? I could take some time off from my job if you needed me.”

      It was a generous offer, Allison knew. Her mother hadn’t returned to Squam Lake since the divorce. She hadn’t said anything, but Allison guessed the memories were too painful.

      “Mom, I’m fine.”

      “Okay. If you say you’re fine, then I believe you. Have a wonderful day, sweetheart. You deserve it.”

      “I will. Love you, Mom. Talk to you next week.”

      As she returned to her cooking, Allison thought about her parents. It had always bothered her that they’d given her no reason for ending their marriage. She supposed they were trying to shelter her. But she’d been an adult when they’d separated. Old enough to handle the truth.

      Unlike the little girl next door. She’d made such a job out of riding that tricycle. Was a divorce the reason for the sadness in her eyes?

      And her father’s, too?

       CHAPTER TWO

      MONDAY MORNING, Gavin woke up with a sick feeling in his stomach. It was hard not to think about the little girl who wouldn’t be starting grade one today. His little Samantha…

      He took a moment to remember her, gazing at the photo of the twins that he kept by his bed.

      Then he pulled himself to his feet, went to the washroom and forced himself to smile at his image in the mirror.

      Just the act of smiling, according to research, made you feel happier. He wasn’t so sure about that, but he kept trying, nonetheless.

      When he’d finished washing and dressing, he went to Tory’s room to help her select an outfit for her first day. She was already awake, sitting on her bed and staring woefully at her dresser.

      “Would you rather wear shorts or a dress?”

      No answer.

      “Pink or blue?”

      Tory just stared at him.

      So, as usual, he set out some clothes, then made her breakfast. They walked to school together, met the principal and were shown to the first-grade classroom. He wasn’t surprised when Tory cried as he tried to leave her with her new teacher, and he ended up staying in the classroom for the first hour and a half. At recess, the teacher encouraged him to leave.

      “I’ll call if Tory doesn’t settle in after you’re gone.”

      Gavin returned to the house on Robin Crescent. Stepping around open boxes, he made his way to the kitchen. The movers had placed the table and chairs in the alcove overlooking the lake and now he sat and pivoted so he could look out over the water.

      There was much to do, yet he felt paralyzed.

      Over the weekend he’d assembled Tory’s bed, unpacked her clothing and set up her dollhouse. Even so, her room looked bleak. It could do with a coat of paint, at the very least.

      The rest of the house needed work, too. At some point he’d have to fix the cracks in the walls and replace the grimy light fixtures and worn carpets. Maybe he should have bought a place in better repair.

      He still couldn’t believe that he and Tory were living in the house in which Marianne had grown up. Many times she must have sat in this exact spot. He tried to imagine what a teenaged Marianne would have thought about as she looked out onto the lake. But he couldn’t. He’d never been able to understand what went on in her head.

      He certainly couldn’t understand the way she’d left their kids, never looking back, never phoning or writing or making any contact at all. They’d been one-year-olds. To him so sweet and adorable. He couldn’t imagine leaving them. At least not by choice.

      Which had led him to wonder if Marianne was dead. But his calls to hospitals and police stations in the area had turned up nothing.

      For a while he’d considered hiring an investigator, but his brothers had talked him out of it.

      “She knows where you are,” Nick, ever the hard-nosed cop, had pointed out. “If she doesn’t care enough to keep in touch, you and the girls are better off without her.”

      Gavin had tried to accept his brother’s advice. But Samantha’s death had set him thinking about Marianne again. He wondered what she’d been doing with her life for the past six years. How was she earning a living? Had she found a man who made her happy?

      And what would she say when she found out about Sam’s death? Would she finally be sorry? Would she regret leaving all those years ago?

      Most importantly, would she realize how much Tory needed her now? Sam’s death had hit the poor kid so hard. СКАЧАТЬ