Low Country Christmas

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Low Country Christmas Page 20

by Lee Tobin McClain


  “Glad to see you, son,” he said.

  Son. The word shook Cash to the core. He could never remember his father calling him that before, couldn’t remember anyone calling him that except Ma Dixie. His foster family hadn’t been demonstrative types.

  Rendered speechless, he simply studied his father. Orin did look sick, his color pasty, his eyes bloodshot. He reached out a hand, and after a moment’s pause, Cash did, too. Their handshake evolved into a slight man-hug, but the smell of Orin—sweat covered by cheap cologne—practically made Cash reel, and he stepped back quickly as memories threatened to overwhelm him.

  He remembered ducking away from his father, dodging blows, running outside or upstairs, anywhere to get away from those cutting words and swinging fists.

  And whoa, that definitely overcame any admiration he’d been feeling for his father’s occasional financial wizardry, any sense of them being from the same mold.

  “Come on in.” Orin turned, beckoning for Cash to follow.

  He remembered that his father had normally smelled like alcohol, but he hadn’t noticed that particular smell today. Maybe he’d stopped drinking, gotten less volatile. Also, Cash now had a couple of inches and a few pounds of muscle on his father. It was ridiculous to still feel intimidated.

  He squared his shoulders and followed Orin into a living area that looked clean, though a faint odor of old food and soured laundry suggested that looks weren’t everything.

  “Have a seat. Beer?”

  “Um, sure.”

  He took the can his father offered, cracked it open and drank deeply.

  “Thought you might be too highfalutin for my brand,” Orin said. Again, Cash got a sudden memory of Orin’s tactics: always poking and prodding at people, looking for a weakness he could exploit.

  Cash shook his head and took another swig. Liquid courage.

  There’s nothing to be afraid of.

  But old feelings died hard. And it was awkward. What did you say to your father after fifteen years? After he’d beaten your mother nearly to death?

  He cleared his throat. “How’s your health? You said you were having problems?”

  “Yeah.” Orin looked at the floor, then over at the kitchen, then into the back of the trailer. “Truth is, I’m having a little money trouble.”

  Cash had half expected that, but his gut still twisted. “Do you need help with medical bills, paperwork? I can take a look—”

  “I need fifty thousand. In cash.”

  Cash stared at Orin. “What? Why cash?” That didn’t sound right for paying medical bills.

  The man shrugged. “Just...life.” Again, he looked at the walls, the other rooms, the floor. Anywhere but at Cash.

  A heavy stone settled on Cash’s shoulders. The weight of it made him realize he’d had some kind of hopes for this meeting. Hope that the old man wanted to make some kind of connection.

  He should have known that wouldn’t happen. People mostly liked Cash for his money. Why should his father be any different?

  Because he’s your father.

  Cash was a father now, and he loved his daughter unconditionally. That was what fathers did. Or should do.

  Orin hadn’t taken the trouble to locate his sons until he needed money. He hadn’t tried to explain what had happened in the past, why he’d treated them all so badly. Where did he get off asking for a loan—or a gift, actually, since he hadn’t mentioned paying it back—after all he’d done?

  Cash swallowed enough of his bitterness that he could speak in a level tone of voice. “I’m not going to be able to give you that much money.”

  “Why not? You’ve got it.” Orin’s mouth twisted into a sneer, and Cash remembered the expression, how it preceded an insult or worse. Sure enough, the next word out of his father’s mouth was an ugly one.

  All of a sudden, Rita’s face flashed into Cash’s mind. She’d shown up for him, over and over. Asked for nothing, even though she was obviously far from wealthy. Just kept trying to help with Penny, talk to him, connect.

  And Cash had turned her away, repeatedly.

  Which was nothing compared to what Orin had done to her, and sudden rage flashed over Cash. “One,” he said, “you almost killed my mother. Two—”

  “Wait,” Orin said. “Almost killed? You...followed up with her?”

  Cash glared at him and didn’t answer. “Two, I have a kid now. I don’t want any kind of connection with someone like you. You can just delete my number from your phone and forget I ever came here, because you’re getting nothing from me.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Orin lifted his hands, palms out. “I’m sorry. I went about this all wrong. You have a kid? How old? Boy or girl?”

  “Are you not hearing what I’m saying? I don’t want you involved in my life. No need for you to know.”

  “But that’s my grandchild.” Orin squeezed his eyes shut and then blinked rapidly, almost as if he was trying not to cry. “I... Look, I know I don’t deserve it, I haven’t been much of a father...”

  “That’s an understatement if I ever heard one.” Cash shook his head and turned toward the door. “I shouldn’t have come. You just want money out of me, and I have no obligation to help you after what you did to our mother, our family.”

  “Do you have a picture? Of your child?”

  “You don’t deserve to see her.” He started walking. When the cool, damp air from outside hit him, he breathed deep. He really wanted to get out of this place, to be somewhere healthy.

  He wanted to be with Holly, he realized. Couldn’t wait to get back to her, her honesty, her clean wholesome nature, her sweetness. Holly was the only person in the world who could make him feel complete and decent again.

  Orin grabbed his shoulder and spun him back. “Does your daughter look anything like this?”

  He scooped a picture off an end table and held it toward Cash.

  Cash was about to shove the photo aside, probably to slug it out with Orin, when his eyes focused in on the photo Orin was jamming into his face. Tiff?

  What was Orin doing with a picture of Tiff?

  He stared at his father, fists clenched at his sides. “How do you know her?”

  Orin laughed, an ugly sound. “Old friend,” he said. “I’m guessing your kid is about...a year old? Little more?”

  Cash stared, his thoughts reeling.

  Orin shook his head. “That trashy thing never told me you knocked her up.” He crossed his arms and seemed to ponder. “Which is strange, since Tiff and I were like this.” He held up two fingers, close together, and waggled his eyebrows so there was no doubt as to his meaning.

  Cash clenched his fists to keep from punching his father and shook his head, trying to clear it. “If you know Tiff—No. That’s too much of a coincidence, that she’d end up getting involved with your son.”

  Orin snorted. “For a rich businessman, you’re naive. Did you think she liked you for your charm and good looks?”

  Well, yeah. He kind of had thought that.

  “If I hadn’t gone to prison, it would’ve worked,” Orin said.

  “What would’ve worked?”

  “Tell me, how’d you meet Tiff?”

  Cash looked down. “At a bar.”

  “Did you hit on her, or she on you?”

  “I don’t remember.” But he did. She’d approached him, hit on him.

  Which meant... “Why’d you ask that? Did you send her my way? Why?” But the reason was coming to him.

  Orin and Tiff must have conspired together, trying to find a way to get at his money.

  Orin’s eyes narrowed. “You want the whole story, you give me fifty thousand.”

  Cash stared at him. “You think you can blackmail me based on that? You’re losing it, old man.” He spun out into the rain and strode to his car, ignoring the taunts and
shouts of the pitiful man behind him.

  The pitiful man who was his father.

  His father, who knew Tiff. Had known her, well, before Cash had ever met her. Tiff had approached Cash in that bar, hit on him. Seduced him, although things had gotten mutual fast.

  They’d shared a very lovely week, but they hadn’t revealed much personal information. They’d been too busy going at it like rabbits.

  But not to worry, Tiff had said, because she was on birth control.

  Only she wasn’t.

  That conversation with Holly flashed back into his mind. He’d seen something in her face when he’d asked about birth control. She’d hedged in answering him.

  Had she known Tiff wasn’t really using birth control? Had she conspired with Tiff—and, sickening as the thought was, with Orin—to entrap Cash?

  But if so, why hadn’t Orin seemed to know the trap had worked and he and Tiff had made a baby?

  He was driving now, faster and faster through the pounding rain, the aftertaste of his father’s bad beer sour in his mouth. He was still not sure he understood what his father had told him. He definitely didn’t understand all the reasons and connections.

  But one thing he was starting to realize: Holly just might know about his father. She just might know that Tiff had tricked him into getting her pregnant with Penny.

  Holly was benefiting from that now, living well with the baby. Was she laughing inside at his offers to support her, to throw more and more money at the situation?

  She must think him to be such a fool.

  Cash took a curve too fast, skidded a little off the road and then straightened the wheel. Carefully, he pulled off.

  He had to think about how to handle this, what to say. But he couldn’t think. He just wanted to hurt someone back.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  HOLLY HUMMED AS she walked around her apartment, lighting candles. She wasn’t even worried about the approaching tropical storm. Thanks to the advice of Rita and Norma, she’d bought a bunch of hurricane candles at the hardware store in case the electricity went out.

  She was pleasantly tired from walking six dogs today, and relieved, too. Business wasn’t exactly booming, not yet, but it had picked back up after the success of the photos-with-Santa event.

  Thinking of that made her think of Pudge, and she shot up a quick prayer for the kind and generous man.

  It was raining hard, but she and Penny didn’t need to go anywhere. She’d snuggle up with her baby under the small Christmas tree she’d bought, read her some stories. Maybe she’d let her fall asleep out here in the front room and take her to her bedroom later.

  The loud banging on her door took her by surprise. She peeked out, then opened it wide. “Cash! You look like a drowning person. Let me get you some towels.”

  “Da! Da!” Penny held up her arms in Cash’s direction.

  “He’ll pick you up in a minute, sweetie, he has to take off that wet coat first.” She grabbed a couple of towels off the shelf and brought them out. He took them and dried his head and face, then shed his coat and hung it on the hook beside the door.

  He turned back to face her, and only then did she notice his lowered eyebrows, the vertical lines between them, the downturned mouth.

  He hadn’t said anything yet, either. And he wasn’t making a move to pick up Penny.

  He was more than unhappy; he looked angry. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Is everything okay?”

  “How long have you known my father?” He spit out the words.

  Holly lost her breath. For a moment she stared at him while she processed the question.

  His father. Orin. He’d discovered the connection.

  “I don’t know him,” she said slowly. “Why do you think I do?” Inside, her stomach churned.

  His expression darkened. “Because Tiff did,” he said.

  She sucked in a breath and let it out again. Nodded. “It’s true, she did. But I wasn’t very involved in her life at that point. I never met him.”

  He stared at her out of hollow eyes. “I don’t understand the scam, not exactly. But that you were part of it...” He trailed off, shook his head back and forth rapidly, looked away from her. “Wow.”

  “I wasn’t part of it. I just found out about it.”

  “Yeah. Right.”

  “Come sit down and let me explain,” she urged him, instinctively reaching for his arm.

  He jerked away. “I’ll stand.”

  His cold tone combined with the physical withdrawal felt like a blow to the chest. But for Penny’s sake, she had to stay calm and do damage control. Had to try to find a way to keep Cash from pushing away his child.

  That he was going to push away Holly was a given, and her heart cried with loss.

  She studied his face, eyebrows drawn together, lip slightly curled. If only she’d found a way to tell him the truth. But she hadn’t, because she’d feared this very reaction. She had to think. “Cash, it’s urgent that you tell me how you found this out. Has your father been in touch with you?”

  He nodded slowly, looking away. It was as if he couldn’t stand the sight of her.

  Her heart ached with the sadness of that, but she had to think of Penny first. “He’s not a good man, Cash. Not from the little I heard from Tiff. You need to—”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” he shouted. “Don’t you think I know the scum I came from?” He clamped his jaw and took a breath, like he was trying to compose himself. “The idea that you were connected with that...”

  Penny had started to fuss, and Holly hurried to pick her up. “Shh, it’s okay.” Poor Penny wasn’t used to hearing people yell and it disturbed her. Holly meant to keep it that way. Penny wasn’t going to have a childhood like she and Tiff had had, where angry men were a part of the landscape.

  The only good thing was, she was used to this. She didn’t like shouting matches, but they didn’t scare her.

  Cash opened his mouth like he was going to go on berating her. “I—”

  “Keep your voice down. Please? You’re upsetting her.”

  His mouth snapped shut.

  “And listen. What I was going to say is, you need to stay far, far away from him, and don’t let him know where Penny and me are staying. Even though he’s in prison, he scares me.”

  He stared at her, his eyes still black and hollow. “That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?” He paused, then added, “And by the way, he’s not in prison anymore.”

  “What?” Panic raced through her.

  “Don’t worry, he’s in no shape to do anything to you. What I want to know is...” He swallowed hard. “What I want to know is, why didn’t you tell me?” He spoke over Penny’s continued wails.

  That got to her, because she could hear the hurt behind his words. Vulnerability affected her a lot more than anger did.

  She sat down on the couch and swayed back and forth, trying to comfort Penny. “I kept the truth from you because that was what Tiff wanted. She felt like if you knew, you wouldn’t want anything to do with Penny, and she really wanted Penny to have a good life.”

  “Don’t you think I would’ve liked to know that she got together with me because my dad told her to? That she was using me, trying to get money out of me?”

  “Did she ever ask you for money? She wasn’t even in touch with you after that one week, was she?”

  “No, but she had my baby!” The words burst out of him. “And then you brought her here, and look around, you’re doing well because I’m providing for you. What’s not to like about that? You can walk a few dogs, live the good life, because I was a sucker!”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, partly to get rid of the sight of his angry face, partly to hold back tears. She’d always prided herself on being independent. She’d been determined to start her life here on her own term
s, working, being Penny’s primary support. And yes, she’d needed money from Cash, child support, but she hadn’t wanted to depend on him too far or take advantage.

  You wanted to be his girlfriend, to make a family with him.

  She couldn’t avoid the reality that she’d thought about it, and could anyone really blame her? He’d kissed her, he’d treated her with chivalry and respect. She’d thought they were getting close. The romantic vibes between them had been strong.

  Now, he was looking at her with something very close to hatred. She wanted to fold up in a little ball and sob like a child, but she stiffened her spine. She had to be strong. “Look, I understand that you’re angry. I should have found a way to tell you—”

  “Ya think?” Sarcasm weighted down his voice.

  Outside, a bigger surge of rain beat against the windows, making them rattle. She rocked Penny gently, took a few yoga breaths. She couldn’t transmit her own anxiety to the baby. “If you’d like to sit down and discuss it, you can. But only if you can keep your voice down and be rational.”

  He stared at her. “You’re one cool customer. I thought you were something else entirely. I thought we were starting to build something.”

  A half sob rose up inside her, but she stifled it. He’d thought they were building something? He’d wanted that? She’d hoped that was the case, but until now, she hadn’t known it for sure.

  Now, when it was too late. What had she thrown away with her deception?

  “I have to wonder how long you’ve been planning this. What did you get out of stringing me along, making me think you cared?”

  His words punched at her like physical blows. “I didn’t want to deceive you, Cash. I... Tiff didn’t want you to know her connection with Orin, because—”

  “Because she knew it would make me sick?” His fists clenched at his sides. “Do you know how it felt to find out she was sleeping with Orin? My own father?”

  “Oh, Cash, she wasn’t sleeping with him. I don’t think so. She wouldn’t...” Holly trailed off. She didn’t think Tiff would stoop that low, but she couldn’t swear that she was right.

 

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