The Daddy's Promise. Shirley Jump

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СКАЧАТЬ he’s the reason I’m here.”

      “Oh?” Miss Marchand gave Anita’s swollen belly an obvious glance.

      “Oh, no, this isn’t his baby.” She laughed. “When I knew him in California, he raved so much about Mercy, he made it sound like paradise. At least, compared to L.A. That’s why we’re here.” She pressed a hand to her abdomen.

      “Does he know you’re here?”

      “No, I…well, I haven’t had a chance to tell him.” Seeing Luke wasn’t part of her plan. Men in general weren’t part of her plan. All Anita cared about was settling in a nice place, where her baby could grow up happy and healthy, with neighbors who wrapped around their lives like a well-worn quilt. Mercy, with its quaint streets and quiet neighborhoods, seemed perfect so far.

      “Well, I wouldn’t worry about that.” The old woman winked. “News spreads faster than chicken pox here. I’m sure Luke will be dropping in to see you soon.”

      Anita doubted that, but left those words unsaid. “This basket looks great. I really appreciate the welcome.”

      Miss Marchand wasn’t dissuaded by a change of topic. “If you ever want to talk to Luke, just call John. Luke’s there, staying with his folks for a bit. That young man’s been through an awful time.” She tugged on a leather strap and a little dachshund Anita hadn’t noticed before scrambled to her feet, wagging her tail, clearly anxious to be on her way again. When Miss Marchand reached the sidewalk, the dachshund hopped into a little red wagon, obviously the basket’s conveyance. “The number’s right behind the ham!”

      Miss Marchand toodled a wave, then picked up the wagon’s handle and set off down the sidewalk. Anita stayed on the porch, hugging the basket to her chest.

      In L.A., no one would have done something so nice. Her neighbors had never introduced themselves to her or taken the time to give her the phone number of a handyman. It proved to her once again that she had made the right choice for her and her baby.

      The hokier the better, that was her motto from here on out. Hokey was good for raising a family.

      A plaintive squeak-squeak sounded behind her. The mouse sat on the windowsill, nose twitching, watching her. He blinked several times, raised his teeny snout in the air, sniffing.

      “Don’t get any ideas,” Anita told him. “I’m not sharing.”

      The mouse lowered his head, stretched his body toward her. When he did, he looked skinny and deprived. Lonely.

      Anita glanced inside the basket and spotted a package of wheat crackers. “Oh, all right. But just one.”

      She withdrew a cracker from the package and tossed it on the flaking paint of the porch floor. The mouse scrambled down and dove for the cracker. Anita thrust the basket through the window, clambered in after it and shut the screen.

      There. She might not have any hot water. Or a front door she could open. Or reliable electricity. But she had managed to outsmart one wily mouse.

      Surely, that was a sign her life was on the upswing. If not, she had a flashlight, a hand fan and plenty of cookies to tide her over.

      Luke Dole had been pacing the carpet in his daughter’s bedroom for the past twenty minutes, mashing an even path in the beige plush. He ran through a mental list of places where Emily could be for the hundredth time and got nowhere. Nothing.

      She’d taken off right after school. When the principal called five minutes later to announce Emily’s latest act of defiance and impending suspension—only one week into the new school year—Luke knew why his daughter had disappeared.

      Now it was ten-thirty, an hour and a half past Emily’s curfew, and he had no idea where she could be. He’d already gone out looking once and come up empty. He’d returned home, hoping to find her here, but her bed was still made, her sandals missing from their place by the door. Images of serial killers, rave parties and fiery car wrecks ran through his mind like a horror slide show.

      “Reminds me of when I used to wait up for you and your brother.”

      His father’s voice made Luke jump. He spun around and saw John Dole standing in the doorway, wrapped in a navy terry-cloth robe, holding a glass of water.

      “Dad! I didn’t hear you get up.”

      “Well, I heard you. Sounds like a herd of elephants in here.” John crossed and took a seat on the edge of Emily’s bed. The worn Barbie comforter seemed too girlie for tall, broad John. “I’m sure she’s fine, Luke. Just testing some boundaries.”

      “Yeah, well those boundaries are an hour and a half late. Where could she be?” He began pacing again. “I should call the police.”

      “Mercy isn’t L.A., Luke. Don’t you remember what it was like to be twelve, going on thirty? You and Mark were a handful then. Always taking off, building forts, chasing frogs, cornering poor Miss Tanner’s dog and painting it purple.”

      Luke laughed. “I think Miss Tanner’s still mad at us for that one.”

      “That dog of hers was a pain in the neck anyway. Barked at gnats, for God’s sake.” John sipped, then placed the glass on Emily’s white wicker nightstand. When she’d been seven, Emily had loved this bedroom set, right down to the Barbie-and-Ken pillowcase. But now, it seemed to be one more thing for them to argue about. Luke hated that she was outgrowing the memories he and Mary had worked so hard to build.

      His father rose, put a hand on his shoulder. “Em’s going through a tough time. Losing her mother just when she needed her most.”

      “I lost Mary, too, Dad. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be two parents at once.” He’d carried this load alone for almost two years, and he’d dropped it more than once. “I keep screwing it up.”

      “You and she have a few things to work out, that’s all. It’ll be all right.”

      Luke had heard those words so many times. From the psychiatrist he’d hired for Emily after Mary died, from the teachers and principals who had thrown up their hands after unsuccessfully trying to reverse Emily’s failing grades and continued rule breaking, from the neighbors who thought they were doing the right thing by bringing over hot dishes and well-worn platitudes. He’d moved back home, hoping his parents could help him break through the brick wall she’d put up.

      Maybe he wasn’t the right man to raise Emily. Maybe another man would have—

      That thought damn near broke his heart in two. He hung his head. Thick emotion clogged his throat, strangling his vocal cords. “When, Dad? When is it ever going to be right again?”

      John’s eyes shimmered. “I wish I had that answer for you.” He gripped Luke tight for a moment. “Go find Emily. Talk to her. I’ve never seen two people who needed each other more.”

      How true that was. Each of them was all the other had left. And yet, they kept pushing each other away as if they were fighting over the last lifeboat on a sinking ship.

      Luke gave his father a quick, one-armed hug, then headed for the door.

      Once again, he drove up and down the streets СКАЧАТЬ