Even now I can still feel that impotence. That lack of control.
Instead I drive her into the hospital twice a month. Watch as they draw her blood, when I know she hates the needles. Test, probe, and prod her until she’s so exhausted she can barely keep her head up and I often end up carrying her out to the parking lot.
I did so tonight, and I’d expected her to be asleep, but when I look in my rearview mirror, I catch her eyes on me from the back seat.
“Hey, Princess. I thought you’d still be asleep.”
“Why were you fighting with Grampa this morning?”
Fuck. I knew I was too loud. Now I’m stuck in a dilemma, do I brush it off, or do I tell her the truth?
If Kelty was any other kid, I’d probably brush it off, but she’s not. Sadly circumstances have made her wiser and more observant than she should be. Chances are she’s noticed her grampa’s attitude toward Mika and may be confused about the reasons as well.
Truth it is. At least a moderated version of it.
“Grampa hasn’t been very nice to Mika, and I wanted to know why.”
“Mika is nice,” she volunteers.
“I agree. Now you know she used to be on TV, right? A sports reporter?” I take her nod as a yes. “Well, Grampa recognized her and he had heard some gossip about her that wasn’t very nice.”
“Gossip is never nice.”
My eyes catch hers again in my mirror and I smile. “That’s true. But it’s a little more complicated because Grampa read it in the newspaper. Anyway, that’s what we were arguing about. I know if Grampa just gives her a chance, he’ll see for himself the gossip can’t be true.”
“I like Mika.”
“Already mentioned that, Princess,” I remind her, grinning as I watch her roll her eyes.
“I mean, you like her too, right?”
I can feel where this is going but am not sure how to avoid it without lying, so I keep it simple. “I like her.”
“Right, and I know she likes you, because she always has this little smile when she looks at you. Plus,” she quickly adds when she thinks I’ll interrupt, “she has photos of you.”
“Photos of me?”
“From the boat.”
“She showed you?”
“Yeah. She has a few of me and you together as well. She wouldn’t do that if she didn’t like us, right?”
“I guess,” I admit, before teasing, “unless they’re really ugly photos. I don’t think she really likes us much if she takes ugly pictures.”
“They’re nice, Daddy.”
“Good to know, baby,” I mumble.
10
MIKA
Another beautiful morning greets me when I pull open the door.
As does the unexpected guest sitting on my steps, a little taller and darker than my regular visitor.
I sit down beside him and follow his gaze over the water as the cove wakes up.
I haven’t seen much of him this past week except at the restaurant. Other than a few meaningful glances, most interaction had been work-related and in the presence of others. So I’m a little surprised to find he sought me out this morning.
“My daughter tells me you took my pictures.”
My eyes dart to his handsome profile.
“I did. Hers too.”
He slowly turns his head to me. “Kelty has a theory. She says you can tell a person likes you when they take your picture, but I suggested it all depends on how that picture turns out.”
I tilt my head. “Is this your convoluted way of telling me you want to see the pictures I took last week?”
He shrugs his shoulders and one corner of his lips tilt up in a grin, reminding me how tempting his mouth can be in close proximity. I force myself to look away.
“Wouldn’t mind a coffee either,” he mumbles under his breath and this time when I look back, he’s full-on smiling.
I quickly get to my feet. “Very well, come on in. I have them all downloaded to my laptop, it’s easier to see.”
He follows me inside and I resist the urge to look at him when I hear the door close. Instead I busy myself with his coffee.
“Where’s your daughter this morning, anyway?” I ask him as I pour fresh water into my Keurig.
“We had a late night watching a movie. She’s sleeping in. Dad’s driving her to Chatham when she wakes up. With her birthday tomorrow, and Cassie still confined to her bed, her mom wanted a chance to celebrate with her at their house. Mark should have her back here around noon. Kelty’s a little disappointed there won’t be a big party again, but it would just wipe her out. At least it’s an improvement on last year when she missed out completely. Maybe for her next birthday we can make up for it.”
“Poor kid,” I commiserate.
“She’ll get stronger. She’s already improved a lot. The first weeks after the transplant she was weak as a newborn kitten. Even just going to the bathroom tired her out. She’s come a long way.”
“I’m glad,” I share.
“Anyway, I was hoping you’d join us for burgers and cake tomorrow afternoon? At the restaurant. My daughter requested the patio. We’ll aim for around three, before we have people showing up for dinner.”
“Are you cooking?” I tease him. I’ve been told by more than one person, over the past couple of weeks, while Jude may be a top-notch restaurateur, he can’t cook for shit. They tease him relentlessly.
He throws me a fake scowl. “Rest assured, Daniel will be doing the cooking.”
“In that case, I’d love to. Are you okay with me giving her the camera then?” I ask. I’d planned to give it to her when she dropped by in the morning, but she’ll be at her mom’s.
“She’ll be over the moon, and so will I. She’s relentless when she has her eyes set on something.”
I shove a mug under the spout and dig through my collection of coffee pods. “Dark roasted?”
“Please.”
I press the button and turn around, leaning my elbows on the counter. “So other than Kelty’s birthday, my stellar coffee, and the pictures, what brings you here today?”
“Am I that obvious?”
“Not really,” I admit. “But I noticed you have this habit of rubbing your chin when you’re trying to figure out what to say next, and you’ve been rubbing it since we came inside.”
He immediately puts his hand down.
“Dad,” he starts and I straighten a little. The older man has been in the restaurant daily, and although not as overtly hostile as the first few times, I could still feel him scrutinizing me from a distance. “I called him out on the way he behaved toward you last week.” He notices the wince on my face. “Honestly, my dad is normally a pretty laid-back guy, which made his behavior out of character.”
“He’s been fine. Well,” I catch myself, “better anyway. Do you know whether it’s something I did?”
“God no. And I didn’t really want to bring it up, but with my brother, his family, and few friends stopping by, I don’t want you to be blindsided.”
“By what?” I’m utterly confused.
“Do you know your ex has been talking to the media?”
I snort. It doesn’t surprise me; he made our brief battle in court very public. Something the judge hadn’t been very happy about because he’d clearly instructed—for the sake of privacy—details around the crux of the case be kept from the public. That actually suited Emmett just fine, since he was more interested in portraying me as a cold-hearted bitch anyway, which wasn’t hard to do without providing full disclosure. It’s one of the reasons I wanted out of Boston.
“I do. He’s been doing this a while. I’m guessing your father got wind of it?”
He nods, looking down at the mug he has in his hand. “It’s not exactly nice, the stuff your ex is saying.”
I take in a deep breath. “Believe me, I know. I had to deal with it during the worst period of my life. He’s always been very good at spouting so-called facts without context. He’s angry an
d determined to take it out on me, and he won’t stop until he’s made it so no one will touch me. Nothing I can do to change it.”
He stares at me for a long time, looking for something, an explanation maybe? Justification?
“You don’t strike me as someone who’d so easily give up. Why don’t you sue for defamation of character or something?”
I drop my head between my shoulders. It’s a valid question, to which there is no satisfactory answer. Not now, not when he’s gearing up for his daughter’s birthday and has friends and family coming to celebrate. It wouldn’t be fair to drop that on him today.
Besides, it’s a catch-22 at this point; if I share it all with him now, I might clear my name, but the knowledge will still hurt him. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.
“I can’t. If this was just about me, I would be fighting tooth and nail, but it isn’t.” I reach over the counter and grab his hand. “Do you trust me?”
It’s a loaded question and I know it, but I’m asking anyway. I can see the struggle waging behind those brown eyes as he scans mine, and it kills to watch.
“I told my dad not to make judgments until we have all the information. I also told him I don’t believe there is a malicious bone in your body. I stand by that.”
Relief has me drop my forehead to our locked hands. “Thank you.”
“But, Mika,” he continues, “I feel like I’m flying blind here. I have so many questions.”
“I know, and you’ll have your answers, I promise, but first we celebrate your beautiful daughter’s birthday.”
It’s selfish, but I want to see her celebrate her tenth birthday. I want to give her Jamie’s camera, and I hope she’ll make good use of it when I’m gone.
Then I plan to take that memory with me when I have to leave.
JUDE
I watch Mika’s reaction when we walk in.
Her smile for me is reserved, unlike the wide-open one she directs at Kelty.
‘Happy birthday, honey,” she calls out, opening her arms when my daughter immediately heads her way.
There isn’t a hint of artifice in the way she hugs her, and I’m not the only one who notices.
“At least that seems to be genuine,” my father grumbles behind me, and I press my lips together.
I never did end up seeing those pictures yesterday, but I did spend most of my time since then mulling over our conversation. It would’ve been easier if she’d just come out and claimed those stories about her were all lies, but she didn’t do that. She did make it clear there was more to them than what her ex had been spreading.
Part of me wanted to shake it out of her, but when she implied she was protecting someone else, I backed off.
Through the windows, I’m surprised to see streamers and balloons decorating the patio, and judging from Kelty’s excited squeal, she’s spotted them too.
“Thank you,” I mouth at Mandy, who’s taking her turn congratulating my daughter, but she shakes her head, tilting it in Mika’s direction. I walk up to the group and step to Mika’s side, leaning in. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“A girl turns ten only once. She’s double digits now, it’s a big deal,” she says under her breath, smiling as Kelty is being passed between the rest of my crew, getting hugs from everyone. Then her eyes turn to me. “I thought you said you had family and friends coming?”
“My brother, Ethan, and his wife, Libby, plus their two teenage boys should be here soon, and most of my friends are already here.”
It’s true, my circle was never that big, but it’s gotten even smaller since my daughter first got sick. It’s the people I work with on an everyday basis, who didn’t shy away. Not that they really had a choice, Kelty’s been a prominent feature in the restaurant since she was a baby. They’d had a front row seat on her life.
The only other person who stuck close was Steve, who I’m sure will show up at some point.
“Mika,” my father says with a nod, when he joins our huddle.
“Congratulations on your granddaughter’s birthday, Mr. Parks,” she says with a tight smile. The old coot just grunts. Can you say passive aggressive? Dad prefers being called Jim and is forever correcting people who call him mister. I’m sure it hasn’t escaped Mika he hasn’t with her.
Fuck that, I’ll do it for him.
“It’s Jim, Mika. Dad doesn’t care for formalities, do you, Dad?” I elbow him in the ribs.
“Jim it is,” she says, her mouth still a little tense.
The stubborn old man doesn’t say a thing, but when Mandy invites everyone out on the patio, he grabs my arm and holds me back. “That hurt,” he says, looking pissed.
“Good,” is all I have to say before I turn my back on him.
We’ve barely sat down when my brother and his family walk in. More hugs, and a brief moment of awkwardness when Kelty proudly introduces Mika to her cousins. The oldest, Ben, almost sixteen, seems to do a double take.
“Wait a minute, I’ve seen you on TV,” he blurts out. “You were interviewing Brad Marchand.” Before I can come to the rescue, Mika resolves the situation herself.
“A previous lifetime, kid,” she says easily before she leans in and says in a low, conspiratory voice. “Nice guy, but did you know he’s really short when he’s not wearing skates?”
My nephew perks up. Good call, since Ben, at five foot nine, was outgrown by his younger brother two years ago and it’s still a sore point, no matter how many times he’s assured that guys can keep growing into their twenties.
I look over at Ethan, who seems to be observing the interaction as Mika manages to rope Ben into helping her get drinks for everyone. If my brother is aware of who she is, or the stories doing the rounds, he’s not showing it. He’s the levelheaded one of the bunch, much like Mom, whereas Dad and I may appear laid-back but tend to be more passionate.
When it’s time for presents—after burgers but before cake—I’m surprised to see Mika coming outside with not just a smaller gift, I assume is the camera, but with a much larger one as well.
She waits until Kelty has unwrapped her last gift before she hands her the big one first. My suspicions are confirmed when the beautiful print is revealed. One of Mika’s images of the white heron.
“Is that mine?” Kelty asks, her voice pitched even higher than normal.
“You bet it is, honey,” Mika says, smiling at her.
“Great print,” Ethan observes, as he takes in the image of the great white heron coming in for a landing, his wings spread wide and legs extended, barely clearing the water.
“Mika’s a photographer. This is one of hers,” I tell him, and even I can hear the pride in my voice.
“Actually…this isn’t mine,” she says and I turn to look at her. “It’s Kelty’s. She took it with my camera earlier this week.”
My daughter’s face is beaming with pride and a lump lodges in my throat as I try to smile at her. There is no way to express the feelings that overwhelm me.
I just stare at my little girl, surrounded by words of stunned surprise and praise.
“I guess everyone agrees when I said you had talent,” I hear Mika say and focus on her. “Which is why I think you’re ready for this.” She hands her the smaller package. “I should warn you, it’s not new, but it belonged to someone who loved it as much as I hope you will.”
I hear Kelty’s gasp as she rips the paper off, but my eyes are locked with Mika’s over my daughter’s head. I know what this means to her, and I hope she understands it means a lot to me too.
“Christ, babe, you look smokin’!”
My head twists to the door, just in time to see my best friend, Steve, charging at Mika, lifting her straight up before swinging her around in his arms.
And she? She throws her head back and laughs, her arms wrapped around his neck.
What the ever-loving fuck?
11
JUDE
“You know her.”
Steve turns his head when I wal
k into the men’s room.
I’d managed to keep a polite front while Steve did the rounds, and wished Kelty a happy birthday.
I stayed quiet while we had cake, and while Mandy and Mika started cleaning up the patio for the dinner guests.
I even fully intended to walk out with my family when they took Kelty to my place to spend some family time, but then I saw Steve duck into the bathroom. I told Dad I had to check on something and would be right along, before I followed my friend into the men’s room.
“Who, Mika? Well, yeah. She’s my sister’s best friend. They’ve been thick as thieves since elementary school. How do you think she ended up here?”
I walk in and lean against the counter. “What do you mean, ended up here?”
Steve wipes his hands and faces me full-on, crossing his arms over his chest. “I recommended your cottage to her. Is there something I’m missing?”
He seems genuinely puzzled, but then so am I. “I don’t know if you are, but I sure am.”
“You’re gonna have to give me more than that, buddy. I don’t understand, I thought I was doing her and you both a favor by referring her. She needed a place to stay to catch her breath, I thought you’d be happy having a single tenant for the entire season, and now I hear she’s even working for you—what’s the problem?”
I rub my hands through my hair. Everything I learn about her just adds to my list of questions. “Nothing, it’s just…a weird coincidence, that’s all.”
“What is?”
“When she ended up here, it was the third time we saw each other. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t expecting me any more than I was expecting her.”
“You already knew her?” His eyebrows shoot up.
Then There Was You: A Single Parent Collection Page 110