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Daughter on His Doorstep

Page 9

by Teresa Southwick

In front of him was an almost overwhelming array of colors on cards. Shelby stood beside him and the fragrance of her hair was sweet and floral. When she reached for one of the color cards, her shoulder brushed against his arm. The touch lasted a second but had him wishing for more. He had only himself to blame for it because of that weak moment when he’d said she could come. This was a bad time to want those words back.

  Studying the rows of choices she didn’t seem to notice the silence. “You didn’t ask for my opinion, but I like these shades. They’re rich and warm. It just depends on how light or dark you want to go.”

  He pretended to pore over the card in her hand when it took most of his concentration not to put his arm around her. Ten years ago the movement was automatic and now the more he was around her, the harder he had to work at remembering not to do it.

  “Look,” he said, “I’m not that fussy. I just want to get the house sold. The Realtor said buyers looking at it need to be able to picture their furniture in it. I took that to mean no black, red or turquoise.”

  “So you want a shade that goes with everything.” She took another card. “These have more yellow. The shades go from cream to gold. This one in the middle is sort of wheat-colored. Kind of serene and peaceful, but still warm earth tones.”

  “Yeah. I like it.” And the way you smell, he almost said. But just then Emma came skipping toward them with color cards in her hand.

  “Can I pick out the color for my room?”

  “Your what now?” Shelby looked at him.

  “My room. The one where I’m going to sleep when I spend the night at my dad’s.” She held them up. “I like these, pink and lavender.”

  Luke was caught somewhere between horror at the colors she was holding up and euphoria at the progress in her attitude toward him. She’d nearly called him dad. If he gave her a hard negative on this paint thing, would they be back to square one?

  “I know what we could do,” Emma said excitedly. “Three walls could be pink and one lavender.”

  Shelby was looking at him and the conflict must have shown because she gave him sympathetic eyes before tackling the problem. “Peanut, your dad is planning to paint every room the same color.”

  “But why?”

  “Because he’s fixing it up to sell it. Buyers want to be able to move in and not have to think about repainting because they don’t like the color.”

  “I think people would like a pink and purple room.” Emma got a look he was beginning to recognize as stubborn.

  “What if they don’t have a little girl? What if there are all boys?” Shelby’s voice was patient and reasonable and he had no idea how she did that.

  “Boys might like pink.”

  “Sweetie, the color has to be neutral.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that anything goes with it. Someone might not want to buy the house if they don’t like the wall color.”

  Emma looked at him. “If someone else buys it, that means you won’t be staying in the house next door.”

  “Not there.” He glanced at Shelby. “But I’m not leaving town.”

  “But I like it that you’re there,” Emma protested.

  “You’ll still see him all the time,” her mom assured her. “We just have to drive. You won’t be able to walk over.”

  “But I like walking over. When I get mad at Mommy I can come over to your house. Like this morning.”

  Shelby’s eyes narrowed on him. “This morning?”

  The secret was out. It had been nice while it lasted. He looked at Emma. “Probably you shouldn’t think about a career in the spy sector.”

  “What happened?” Shelby demanded.

  Luke explained why Emma had sneaked over and what he’d discussed with her. Stressing that he had backed Shelby up.

  Her expression relaxed and she smiled. “Her bed was made and the toys picked up. And here I thought she was turning into a neat freak. Instead it was you. Nicely done.”

  “Thank you.” Again he got that dad-like feeling and was glad he’d brought her along after all.

  He looked at Emma and said, “I’ll always be there for you, kid. Whether you can walk over to my house or not. All you have to do is call.”

  She looked at the color cards in her hand. “Do I need to put these back?”

  “Afraid so, sweetie.”

  He watched Shelby walk her down the aisle to the correct display. His heart melted. That little girl was something else. And he hoped he was becoming important to her, too. Maybe one of these days she would even call him Dad.

  Chapter Seven

  At dinner that night Shelby was still processing the fact that Emma was so quickly mastering the art of pitting one parent against the other. And the fact that Luke didn’t fall for it. He could have thrown her under the bus for a little revenge but he didn’t. Probably some instinct told him it wouldn’t be good for his daughter. Three cheers for a united front!

  The three of them had a really nice time together. After the hardware store where Luke bought his paint—a neutral beige-y color for the walls and white for doors and molding—they were hungry and let Emma pick a place for lunch. Bonding with her father was more important than a single fast-food meal and truthfully Shelby knew better than anyone that forbidding it was the best way to make it more attractive.

  While Emma was in the kids’ play area, she and Luke had a pleasant conversation. They talked about their jobs, the changes in Huntington Hills over the years and everything in between. Both of them carefully avoided reminiscing about their past relationship. She was glad he didn’t bring it up because Emma was bound to notice any emotional shift.

  When she and Emma walked in the house close to dinnertime, her mother had been tense and edgy. No doubt the attitude had something to do with her and Emma spending time with Luke. As soon as Emma was comfortable with the situation, Shelby wouldn’t be seeing him and her mom could relax.

  “Emma, eat your green beans.”

  “I don’t like them, Grammy.”

  “We all have to do things we don’t like.”

  Shelby figured that remark was directed to her and had something to do with Luke, but she couldn’t figure out what. “Your grandmother is right, Emma. You need to eat your vegetables, especially since your lunch today could have been healthier.”

  “My dad really likes hamburgers, Grammy.” Emma speared one bean with her fork and examined it as if the thing was a poisonous insect. “I bet he doesn’t eat vegetables.”

  “I think you’re wrong about that. He’s pretty strong and wouldn’t be if he didn’t eat right.” His body had changed since he left her. Not that he hadn’t been in shape then, but he’d filled out and was more muscular. He was in top physical condition, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed. She didn’t want to, but she had eyes and hormones. “Your dad has to eat a well-rounded diet and live a healthy lifestyle to look the way he does.”

  “I want to be healthy like him.” The little girl ate her green beans without another word and her grandmother didn’t look particularly pleased about it.

  “Valentine’s Day is coming up.” Clearly her mother was changing the topic. “You need to pick out valentine cards for your class, Em.”

  “I know.” She looked thoughtful. “I need to get one for my dad, too.”

  “Is there going to be a class party this year?” Pam was going for another change in topic. Anything but Luke. “I don’t remember seeing a notice from your teacher.”

  “Yes. Sorry, Grammy. I forgot to give it to Mommy. It’s in my backpack.” Emma finished the last of her milk and wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Maybe my dad can come to the party. Parents are invited.”

  “He might have to work,” Shelby said.

  “But if he’s not. You’re coming again, right, Grammy?”

  “If I can get th
e time from work.” She was the registrar for the junior high school and had never had a problem getting a couple hours off for her granddaughter.

  “But you always come,” Emma protested.

  Shelby had never seen her mom anything but excited about and encouraging of Emma’s activities. This was about Luke. And they needed to have a conversation when Emma wasn’t around.

  The little girl was frowning at her grandmother. “Grammy, why don’t you like my dad?”

  Oh, boy. She’d noticed the hostile vibe, too. Don’t sugarcoat it, Em, she thought. Tell her how you really feel. Then again, talking was good. Get the feelings out in the open.

  “Oh, Emma, don’t be silly.” The woman waved her hand dismissively. “Shelby, I heard the high school math and science departments are going to receive grants for more resources.”

  “It’s not a done deal yet, Mom. But we’re keeping our fingers crossed.”

  “Then I will, too—”

  “Grammy, I’m not being silly.” Emma’s little face was all earnest intensity, the way only a nine-year-old could look. “You don’t like him.”

  “I’m not sure why you’re saying that, honey.” But she looked uncomfortable. “What makes you think I don’t like him?”

  “Every time I mention him your eyes get weird, like you’re mad. And your mouth gets all scrunchy.” She met Shelby’s gaze across the table. “The way you look at Mommy when you’re not happy.”

  “I hardly ever get mad at your mother.” It was true, but yet another deflection. Pam was reaching now, hoping to distract this acutely observant child. “So if you’re finished with your dinner—”

  “You should tell her, Mom.” That got Shelby one of those not-happy looks that her daughter had just described. The woman was clearly annoyed so they might as well air it all out. “You’re blowing her off and Emma deserves an answer.”

  Pam glared at her. “You know very well that it’s complicated.”

  “That’s what grown-ups always say to a kid,” Emma grumbled.

  “Just keep it simple for her,” Shelby suggested.

  “All right.” Her mom thought for a few moments. “A long time ago, before you were born, he made your mother cry.”

  Emma looked thoughtful. “You mean the way Evan Collins made me cry when he laughed at my freckles?”

  “Sort of,” her grandmother said. “The thing is, when someone hurts a person you love, it can be worse than if they hurt you.”

  Score one for Mom making it uncomplicated, Shelby thought. When that little twerp made her daughter cry, she wanted him to pay. It was as easy as an explanation could be. The problem was that Emma had no frame of reference to understand because she wasn’t a mom. Shelby had to jump in here.

  “Peanut, your dad was a lot younger then and so was I. He said some things that hurt my feelings and Grammy didn’t like that. You and I are getting to know him now and he’s changed. I cared about him and he left. It made me cry but he had to do what was right for him. Everyone does. And sometimes when that happens people cry. But I got over it.”

  “Grammy didn’t get over it,” Emma pointed out.

  “She’s working on it.” Shelby glanced at her mom and the closed-off expression made a lie of that statement.

  “I have a great idea, Grammy. You could work on it some more at the valentine party.” The eagerness on that little face was pretty hard to resist but her grandmother was doing a good job of it.

  “Grammy has to find out if she can get the time off from work,” Shelby reminded her. She felt like the diplomat negotiating a peace treaty between two disgruntled nations. “And if you’re finished eating, you need to take a bath and get your clothes ready for school. Tomorrow is Monday, remember?”

  “But, Mommy, it’s too early for my bath.”

  “Yes, but if you get everything done fast, we’ll have time for TV. And popcorn.”

  “I love popcorn.”

  “I know.” Shelby was pretty sure that the Parenting for Dummies handbook didn’t recommend bribing a child with food in order to get her out of the room for a sensitive conversation.

  Emma slid off her chair and picked up her dishes to clear them from the table. “I’m going to hurry.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  Shelby waited until she heard the upstairs bathroom door close before speaking. “Mom, what the heck?”

  “You’re going to have to be more specific, Shelby.”

  “Okay. Your hostility is showing. This situation is hard enough without that.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I love Emma,” she said defensively.

  “So do I.”

  “He broke your heart and I can’t forgive him for that.”

  “You can’t pretend to be nice?”

  “No. So sue me.” The woman’s eyes blazed with anger.

  “That was a long time ago. You never gave him a chance then, but your granddaughter might appreciate you giving him one now.”

  “I adore that child. With all my heart. I would die before letting anyone hurt her.”

  “That makes two of us.” Shelby blew out a long breath. “And I’m sure this is going to make you nuts, but he is her father and he’s doing all the right things.”

  “A leopard doesn’t change its spots.”

  “Even leopards mature and evolve. Mom, he was a soldier. He’s a detective now for the Huntington Hills Police Department. It’s hard to get more straight-arrow than that. Doesn’t it buy him something?”

  “None of that means he’s actually different, less selfish than he was then,” Pam said stubbornly.

  “I think he’s earned the right to be given the benefit of the doubt.”

  “And I disagree.”

  “If I had told him the truth then, things would be different now.” Frustration made her lash out. “And if I’d gotten the letters he wrote to me from basic training, I’m sure I’d have told him I was pregnant.” Shelby saw her mother’s face go pale. “But you made sure I didn’t hear from him, right? You intercepted the letters.”

  “I did it for you.”

  “I believe that but it altered the direction of my life. And Emma’s. Things would be so different now if he’d been in her life from the beginning.” Shelby threw out the first thing that popped into her mind to prove that statement. “His mother never knew she had a granddaughter living right next door. How would you feel if that happened to you?”

  Pam’s mouth pulled tight for a moment. “I can only think about you and Emma. You’re my family.”

  “Don’t you see, Mom? That is about Emma. Luke and his mom are her family, too.”

  “I can’t worry about them.”

  “Well you should. Sooner or later she’s going to find out. There will be consequences. Trust me. If I know about anything, it’s that there are always consequences.” Shelby stood. “Can you make Emma popcorn, please?”

  “Where are you going?”

  “A walk. I need to clear my head before saying things I’ll be sorry for.”

  “Shelby, wait—”

  She headed for the front door and didn’t stop. Hearing her mother admit to keeping Luke’s letters from her was a blow. She’d known since that first conversation with Luke and now she knew why she hadn’t confronted it before. She owed her mom so much and could never repay her for the love and support.

  The idea of resenting the woman who had been there for her through the most difficult time of her life was unthinkable and she didn’t want to deal with it. Then Emma had seen the way her grandmother felt about her father and questioned it. At the same time Shelby was grateful to her mother for everything, she was angry that the woman had forced her into a decision with so much collateral damage emotionally.

  On the sidewalk she walked quickly past the house next door with Luke’s truck in the driveway
and all the lights on. She realized that even if he hadn’t come back, the question of her father would have to be handled. Emma had already started to ask questions about him. All those years ago she didn’t foresee this happening and the choice was made with Emma’s best interests at heart. Now she was caught in the middle anyway.

  She hated herself for that.

  * * *

  Luke wouldn’t have seen Shelby walk by his house except that he was putting masking tape on the living room window to get ready for painting. He was working twelve-hour shifts at HHPD the next couple days and wanted to get this prep work done and be ready to dive right into this project when he had a couple days off.

  Something about Shelby’s body language told him this wasn’t a leisurely after-dinner stroll. His first reckless instinct was to go after her and find out what was up. Then he checked himself. Their deal was about helping him bond with his daughter and Emma was nowhere in sight, taking away a logical reason to see her. Any intervention from him would have to go under the heading of personal. Smart money said stay out of it. But he’d never been very smart where Shelby was concerned.

  “Oh, hell—” He grabbed his jacket tossed over the stairway railing and went outside.

  On the porch, he looked in the direction she’d been walking. Down the block he spotted her white T-shirt under a streetlight and jogged after her. Although not running, she was going at a pretty good clip but his strides were longer than hers and he caught up fast.

  “Shelby—”

  She kept power walking as if she hadn’t heard him.

  “Shelby, wait up.” She seemed to hesitate but finally slowed down and he fell into step beside her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You know I’m a cop, right?”

  “Yes. But I’m not breaking any laws, so what’s your point?” Her voice was clipped and full of irritation.

  “I’m pretty good at spotting when someone is lying.” Besides, he had known her pretty well and this was what she did if someone upset her. Apparently that hadn’t changed. When she didn’t respond to his comment, he said, “Clearly something is bothering you.”

 

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