by Syndi Powell
“No, she’s right. I hurt your mother deeply, and she hasn’t forgiven me yet.” Their father frowned. “I made so many mistakes. Too many. And that’s on me.”
This coming from the man who never apologized for anything made Andie speechless. Was all this time reflecting making a difference to him after all?
They sat quietly for a moment until Cassie broke the silence. “Today is my bridal shower. And the plans for the wedding are coming along. It’s going to be a beautiful day.”
“Wish I could be there to see it.”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about...” Cassie paused. “There are certain things that have to happen without you.”
“Who’s giving you away?”
Her father’s gruff tone said more than his words. Cassie turned to Andie. “I’ve asked Mother and Andie to walk down the aisle with me.”
He gave a nod, as if approving the decision.
“And I’m dancing with the Buttucci brothers for the father-daughter dance.”
Her father shook his head. “No, Cass. That won’t work.”
“What do you mean it won’t? Biggie will start, and then halfway through Tiny will cut in.”
“Everyone will be thinking about me during that time. Do you really want that cloud of gloom hanging over you at your wedding?”
Cassie peered at their father. “They’re already going to feel your absence. But then, like you said, that’s not on me, is it?”
Daddy fell silent, his eyes lowered as if unable to face his own daughters. Andie didn’t approve of what he’d done, and Cassie was right. He had gotten himself into this position. But seeing him so cowed softened her heart a tiny bit. She longed to give him some comfort. “Daddy...” She waited until he raised his eyes to hers to continue. “Place your pillow under the part of the mattress that sags the most. That should give you some temporary comfort. And then rotate the mattress every day so that it gets equal use.”
“You think you can fix my life?” He glanced around the room. “Take a look around you, Andromeda. There’s no easy solution here.”
Chastened, she sat back in her chair and let Cassie take the lead on the conversation. Didn’t her father know that she wanted to help? Did he have to dismiss her ideas? But then he’d always done that. Even when she’d been the one behind the scenes solving the problems with deliveries or paychecks, he’d set aside her efforts as less important to his lofty home designs.
Cassie and her father talked of mostly nothing until the guard announced their half hour was over. Cassie stared at their father. “You might want to try Andie’s suggestion. She’s usually right about such things.”
He didn’t say a word but stood and followed the rest of the inmates out of the visiting room. Cassie looked at Andie. “He still thinks he knows better than us.”
“Better than me, you mean.” Andie crossed her arms and rubbed her shoulders at the chill in the room. “He at least listens to you.”
“Not always.” Cassie nudged Andie. “Let’s get out of this depressing place. We’ve got a party to get to.”
* * *
CASSIE’S FIANCÉ, JOHN, arrived near the end of the bridal shower to help with transporting the gifts. He greeted Andie with a hug and kiss on the cheek before grabbing Cassie and loving on her. It had always been her sister for John. When they’d first met, he’d barely acknowledged Andie. She’d seen that he was entirely wrapped up in her sister long before Cassie herself had.
“We appreciate your help, John,” she told him when he let her sister go. “Our friends and family were quite generous.”
He surveyed the table of opened gifts and whistled. “We’re going to need a bigger truck.”
“Already ahead of you, son,” Biggie said as he started to stack gifts in Tiny’s arms.
As they went to load all the gifts into the vehicles, Andie lingered behind to make sure they didn’t forget anything. As she wrapped her great-grandmother’s china tea set, her mother joined her and said, “You’ve been quiet today.”
Andie looked up from the teacup she’d been rolling in Bubble Wrap. “I guess.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
That was part of the problem. Her family didn’t talk about things, but buried their hurts and disappointments deep inside. She shook her head and placed the wrapped cup into a plastic bin before starting with another.
“Cassie said you visited your father this morning.”
The hurt from that morning made the burning in her chest grow warmer. Her father’s rebuff had bothered her more than she wanted to admit. While it was nothing new, she should’ve known better. “Mother, I’m not in the mood to talk.”
Her mother placed a hand on hers to still them. “You’ll never be good enough for him.”
Andie raised her gaze to meet her mother’s. “Thank you. That’s really beneficial for my gloomy mood. I feel so much better now.”
She whirled around and started to gather the other tea sets that would need to be wrapped and put into the bins to transport to her mother’s storage unit. Her mother followed her around the room. “I meant to say that he is the problem, not you. None of us are good enough for him. Why else would he have stolen from his own company to buy things we didn’t need or want? It’s all about the appearance of status to your father. And his own family didn’t measure up.”
“I said I would rather not discuss this.” She counted the teacups and saucers to make sure they had the entire set.
“Andromeda, look at me.”
She kept her eyes on the table before her, unwilling to acquiesce to the request. She didn’t need to see the pain and anger in her mother’s eyes to know that she’d disappointed her, as well. Instead, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. I’m strong. I’m capable. I’m enough.
A cool hand on her shoulder brought her back to the moment, and she looked at her mother, who reached up and smoothed a flyaway strand of hair. “How long will you allow him to have control over your own sense of self?”
Unwilling to answer that question, Andie took a step back, and her mother dropped her hand. Andie said, “Can we just finish the cleanup? There’s somewhere I need to be.”
“A date?” Her mother brightened. Had it really been that long since she’d been interested in a man?
Andie didn’t think she could qualify her evenings working on the stained glass window as dates. They might bring her into Beckett’s presence, but as a couple they didn’t relate to each other much beyond their work. She wouldn’t make the mistake again of thinking that it was more than that like she had with Brian. She’d learned her lesson the hard way there. “Not tonight. Cassie was wrong about the sparkle in my eye. There’s nobody.”
Her mother gave a nod and handed Andie a teacup to wrap. “Don’t let your father keep you from living a full life, Andromeda. You deserve to love and be loved in return.”
“Everything doesn’t come back to Daddy.”
“I’m glad to see you realize that.”
* * *
BECKETT THRUST THE plant he’d purchased into Mrs. Thorpe’s hands. “A gift for your kindness and hospitality.”
She looked the plant over and nodded. “Thank you, Beckett. Russ said you had a kind soul.”
Beckett didn’t quite believe that. True, he had a soul, but it didn’t possess an ounce of kindness. It was hard and bitter like the man he’d become. “You’re welcome,” he muttered and headed downstairs where Russ waited.
The older man looked up from the table when Beckett reached the bottom stair. He wore goggles and had his favorite glass cutter in his hand. Beckett approached the table and looked down at the glass that had a faint white line on it. “Want to learn how to cut glass?” Russ asked.
Beckett nodded, and the older man used what looked like pliers to break the glass at the white line. He showed Beckett h
ow he held the glass cutter between his middle fingers before oiling the blade and applying the cutter against the pane of dark blue glass. “You want to cut edge to edge even if the piece is larger than required. You can always make smaller cuts, but always edge to edge.”
The older man placed the cutter against the glass, and it made a quiet screech as he cut a triangle of glass from the larger piece. He removed the triangle and held it up for Beckett’s inspection. “Want to try?”
He shook his head, feeling incompetent in the face of such skill. “What are you working on?”
“Ahh, that. Come with me.” The older man stood and removed a tray from a large cabinet. “This is only part of the design. It’s the biggest piece of glass art I’ve ever made, and I’ve been working on it off and on for almost thirty years.”
He set the tray on the worktable to reveal pieces of glass laid on a pattern of a bald eagle, wings spread over an American flag. The marines symbol had been drawn but not yet cut in the lower right corner.
“With retirement in my near future, I decided that I’d have more than enough time to finish this.” Russ looked up at him. “What do you think?”
The design was intricate, and while Beckett might be a novice he noticed the loving care that Russ had used to bring the design to life. “Nice, but thirty years?”
Russ nodded and put the tray back into the cabinet. “Off and on, yes. Don’t worry. Your window won’t take nearly that long.”
“Good. I don’t have that much free time,” Andie said behind them.
The two turned to find her rolling up her sleeves. Beckett noticed that her dark brown eyes appeared to be uncharacteristically hard and cold. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
The word came out anything but fine, as frigid and callous as her eyes. Where was the warm, gentle woman he had met last week?
She started to work on removing the glass. Beckett glanced at Russ, who shrugged.
They made progress in silence until Russ flipped the on switch of the small transistor radio on his worktable. An oldies station played a Beatles song, and Beckett hummed along while he dried another piece of glass and placed it on the layout sheet. If they kept up this pace, they’d have all the pieces removed by next week.
“It’s really coming along, isn’t it?”
No one answered Beckett’s question, so he returned to his spot beside Andie. Another song came on, this one a snappy Motown tune that begged to be danced to. He removed his hands from the water and dried them off on a towel before tapping Andie on the shoulder. When she turned toward him, he held out one hand. “Care for a dance?”
“We’ve got work to do.” She turned back to the window.
Beckett tapped her shoulder once more. “It can wait. You look like you need to dance.”
She looked back at him, wariness shining out of those dark eyes fringed by even darker lashes. But she put her hand in his, and he brought her body close to his. She was tall enough to meet him eye to eye, and he swallowed before starting to dance. Moving her forward and then back. Side to side. He wasn’t much of a dancer, but in that basement, he felt as if he had studied the moves of Fred Astaire.
Her wariness was soon replaced with laughter when Beckett accidentally stepped on her foot. He let her go and backed away. “Sorry. I’m not that graceful.”
Andie smiled at him and held out her hand. “I don’t mind.”
He brought her into his arms once more, and they finished the song clumsily but in a lighter mood than when they had started. Russ clapped his hands, and Andie gave a quick curtsy before returning to the tub.
Work continued without the dark cloud that had been hanging over them, and Beckett found himself again humming along to the music.
* * *
THE EVENING ENDED once again with dessert and coffee, this time a cherry strudel that had a flaky crust which melted in Andie’s mouth. She closed her eyes and savored each bite, knowing that if she kept eating like this every time they worked on the window, she’d need to step up her workout regime to keep unwanted pounds off her frame.
Russ lingered over his coffee. “I think it’s time for a road trip.”
Andie glanced at Pattie, who watched her husband with a rapt expression. Had she finally convinced him to go on that cruise? “Where are you two heading?” Andie asked him.
“Not us. The two of you.” He leaned his elbows on the table. “Some of the glass we’ll need I don’t carry. My pieces are more modern, but I know of a glass store up north that carries antique and specialty glass. They’d be perfect for what we need.”
Beckett swallowed his bite of strudel. “How far up north?”
“Little town near Traverse City called Lake Mildred. I know the store owner and can call ahead to let Naomi know what we’re looking for.”
A five-hour ride in the car alone with Beckett one way? She glanced at the man, who had his fork poised halfway to his mouth. He didn’t appear to be that excited about the trip. Maybe as skeptical of it as she was. “We’d have to go up on a Saturday, so I’ll have to rearrange my schedule.”
Russ narrowed his eyes at him. “Aren’t you the boss? Can’t you just decide to go up north?”
“I have contractors who depend on me for access to the site.”
“On the weekends?”
Beckett seemed to have run out of excuses and returned to eating his dessert.
“I’d have to go on a Saturday I don’t teach at the community center,” Andie said, adding herself into the conversation. She retrieved her cell phone from her purse and pulled up her schedule. “I have a Saturday off two weeks from today. Would that suffice?”
Beckett nodded, and he returned his focus to the strudel left on his plate. “I’ll rearrange things to make that work.”
Russ smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Good. I’ll call my friend and let her know you’ll be coming to see her. This is going to be great.”
Later when Beckett again walked her to her car, Andie thanked him as he held the door open for her. Before he could close the door behind her, she glanced up at him. “And thank you for the dance. I’m sorry I arrived in a surly mood, but dancing with you made it brighten.”
He looked at her, and she was struck again by his piercing blue eyes. “The pleasure was mine.”
“Russ seems to think we’ll find what we need at this glass store.”
He gave a short nod and glanced at his truck. “I don’t like the idea of going so far away though.”
“If this place has what we need—”
“You can see what he’s doing with this road trip, right?” He turned back to her. “He’s matchmaking. Russ seems to think that there’s something between us and throwing us together will make something else happen.”
He wasn’t the only one. Pattie had cornered her to ask about the road trip with Beckett, her eyes sparkling with the idea of the two of them alone. Even part of Andie wanted to see what things could be like between them away from their regular lives for a day. Would Beckett be more accessible? Or would the unfamiliarity of their surroundings make him retreat even further?
She cleared her throat. “It’s just a road trip, Beckett. Not a date.”
“Exactly.” He eyed her, then nodded. “Even if you are beautiful. And a woman who ought to go out.”
She warmed at his compliment. “You think I’m pretty?”
He ran a hand along his jaw as if he’d said too much. “You know you are.”
She thought of asking him again to join her for a drink, but the moment passed and he slammed the door shut and stalked to his own car.
* * *
BECKETT STARED AT the three dogs that sat before him. One was a golden retriever that seemed to watch him with a goofy smile. The second was a high energy Malinois that pulled at the leash the trainer had placed on him. The third looked like
a black Lab, but he’d been told she was a Labrador and German shepherd mix. She had one ear cocked forward as he watched the three dogs. Dr. Samples stepped in front of each one, telling the dog’s name and different things it was capable of doing for him.
Names and abilities didn’t matter to Beckett because he wasn’t going to be taking any of these dogs home. He’d agreed to meet them and to consider a therapy dog, but he hadn’t agreed to actually accept one. Much less start to train with it as well as house, feed and care for it.
When Dr. Samples finished talking about the third dog, named Phoebe, she turned to face him, wanting an answer. He gave a shrug. “I’m still not sure that I need a dog.”
“You agreed to consider it.”
“And I have considered it, but I’m not convinced yet.”
Dr. Samples shot him a skeptical look and waved the first dog and trainer to approach Beckett. The dog walked forward and sniffed him, then tried to jump on him. Beckett backed up. Nope, not the dog for him.
The second dog walked circles around him until the animal became distracted by noises in the hallway outside the office, straining at the leash to leave the room. The third dog sat and watched the proceedings from her spot, then lay on the floor, her head resting on her paws.
Beckett shrugged. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“No, it’s a great idea. But you’re not giving these dogs a chance.” Dr. Samples bent down and gave the excited golden retriever a vigorous rub, cooing nonsensical words. Maybe the therapist needed a dog, but he was doing just fine.
Okay, fine might be too strong of a word, but he would be all right. He just needed to keep his focus on work. That’s what would help him get over the nightmares and anxiety. Hard work that kept him moving without time to think. It might not be as effective a strategy as he’d hoped, at the moment, but he had confidence that it would eventually. Like it had before. “Doc, I appreciate your efforts in bringing these dogs to our session, but I doubt the right dog is here.”