What You Said to Me

by Olivia Newport

  “Maybe.” Tisha shrugged.

  “And something else,” Jillian said. “Fidelity Brandt Longthorne was an artist. I wonder if she painted that picture in your attic and that’s why your family has it.”

  Tisha’s mouth opened slightly as she thought. “That pickax on the front of the house and that painting are the two things Grandma Ora always says are her two oldest memories. It’s wacko that we hang the pickax but not the painting. In a stupid sort of way, it makes a statement about our family.”

  Jillian said nothing.

  “Why Tennessee?” Tisha said.

  “I don’t know yet,” Jillian said. “One part of my brain said maybe I should try to figure that out for you, like I do for other people. Another part said maybe you’d like to figure that out yourself. It turns out you might have a knack for this.”

  “Well, it’s no power tool,” Tisha said, “but I guess I could try. If I need a consultation, I could always work off your fee by helping with the St. Louis files.”

  “Yes, you could,” Jillian said, her thumbs still knocking against her legs but her stomach feeling calmer.

  “Can I ask you about something else?”

  “Of course.”

  “Has Nolan talked to my father yet?”

  Jillian’s thumbs stilled. “Not yet.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Either Brittany Crowder maintained at least occasional contact with her daughter’s father, or she was a skilled internet stalker who could be useful to Jillian’s line of work. Her standard of living didn’t suggest she’d been receiving child support for the last fifteen years. She lived with her mother and grandmother in a smallish rented home in a neighborhood that had never seen very good days. A competent shop clerk, currently she held the title of assistant manager, but the staff of Candles & Cards was small and transitory. The owner had to trust someone with a second set of keys, making an occasional bank deposit, and knowing how to call a vendor and check on an order. Nolan didn’t see any sign that Brittany was going to break out into a new profession or income bracket. Her next job, just like her last, was likely to be in another of the shops. She would make the change because someone offered her a shift she preferred, promised weekends off, or could pay another dollar an hour.

  Nolan lacked grounds to poke around town and ask specific questions, but having seen Brittany’s volatility up close, he couldn’t help wondering if it contributed to changing jobs every couple of years.

  Brittany had followed through on providing contact information for Jayden Casky. Her life may seem like it stalled after she became pregnant and dropped out of high school, but his seemed unaffected. He was thirty-five years old, held a PhD, and taught in the education department at the university in Greeley.

  A hundred miles away.

  If Tisha knew, she’d be hitchhiking before the summer was over. And she’d know soon. She had his name, and it was sure to turn up easily enough in an internet search attached to his academic bio. Even if it didn’t, Jillian had given Tisha access to subscription-only websites that could provide Tisha easier information than she would have had otherwise. At the time, that had seemed like the right thing to do to build trust. Now it seemed like a thin, faint line waiting to be rubbed out with a giant pink eraser in the grip of an angry, impulsive child.

  In his office Monday morning, Nolan laid Brittany’s note flat on his desk. It was printed in clear, block capital letters, with a heavy imprint on the paper, as if she was afraid any other kind of writing would leave room for error in interpreting her meaning.

  I AM DOING THIS UNDER FORCE, BUT HERE IT IS.

  Still, the information was there. Name. Where he worked. Office phone number. Work email. Cell phone number. Home address. When Brittany said she knew where he was, she wasn’t just taunting Tisha in the moment. She really did.

  Nolan swiveled his chair to his computer and navigated to the university website. One click through to the education department tab and another to faculty soon had Nolan looking at the face of the man Brittany claimed was Tisha’s father. The likeness was not immediate, but it was strong enough to believe she hadn’t chosen a random name. Brown eyes, hooded in the same way. The square of the chin. One more click led to a full list of Casky’s education, professional experience, and topics of research interest. Social studies. Teacher preparation. He was well published for an academic still fairly early in his career.

  Poking around didn’t yield office hours, but a class schedule was easy enough to find and make a reasonable guess about when he might be in his office. He didn’t have a class right now.

  How Brittany had his home address and cell phone number was a mystery, but Nolan would let that be for now. Hopefully he wouldn’t need to use personal information he couldn’t verify was acquired by above-board methods. He picked up his office phone and dialed the university phone number for Dr. Casky. After the third ring, Nolan was prepared to hang up. He’d rather try repeatedly, even if he got an administrative assistant at first, than leave a cold-call phone message on a university line where he didn’t know who might retrieve it.

  Just at the start of the fourth ring, a baritone voice said, “Casky here.”

  “Dr. Jayden Casky?”

  “Yes, that’s right. Who’s calling, please?”

  “My name is Nolan Duffy. I’m an attorney in Denver, but more important, I live in Canyon Mines and I’m acquainted with Brittany Crowder.”

  “Who?”

  The pitch of his voice had hitched. He was covering. Nolan had heard enough people bluffing over the course of his career to know when someone was buying time.

  “Brittany Crowder. I understand you met her first when you were in college in Denver.”

  “I met a lot of girls in college. Didn’t you?”

  “Brittany wasn’t in college. She was in high school.”

  Pause. “Oh. Right.”

  “Brittany’s daughter is fifteen now and would very much like to meet her father.”

  “What? Me? No. I’m sure you’re mistaken.”

  “Are you saying it’s impossible?”

  “Well, no, not strictly speaking. More to the point, how is this any of your business?”

  “The family has asked me to contact you on their behalf. Brittany is the one who told me how I could find you.”

  “She knew?”

  “Does that surprise you?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Casky said. “As to your request, I think it would be inappropriate.”

  “Why is that, if I may ask?” Nolan wasn’t going to let him off that easily.

  “This child is not anybody I know. I have only your word that she is connected to me, and you have only Brittany’s word. You’re an attorney. Surely you recognize hearsay when you see it.”

  “Might you be willing to talk to Brittany?”

  “Mr. Duffy, I think our conversation is over. Please don’t call this number again.”

  The call ended.

  “Well, Tisha,” Nolan said aloud in his empty office as he set the handset in its cradle, “I do believe we just found your father.”

  He got up and stuck his head out of his office to see if his assistant was at her desk. “Have I got anything today that absolutely can’t be moved?”

  She opened his calendar on her computer and ticktocked her head. “Probably not. I haven’t put anything new on since this morning. No clients. A few internal things I could get you excused from.”

  “Then please make my apologies, or reschedule, or stuff my briefcase for me to deal with things from home tomorrow. We can do video calls or whatever.”

  “What’s up?”

  “That alternative sentencing case. I need a few hours. I’ll try to get back this afternoon, if I can.”

  “You got it.”

  Nolan checked the university website one more time to find the room assignment of Casky’s office and get a quick glance at a campus map to find the building. Then he was in his car and headed north. If he had to s
it outside Casky’s office and smile blandly at an administrative assistant, who would become more motivated to track down Casky the longer Nolan sat there looking patiently determined, he would. He could always play the card of amiably offering to call Jayden’s cell directly, suggesting a friendship that didn’t exist. Just in case, he created a contact for Casky in his phone with the information Brittany had provided.

  Now who was the stalker?

  Nolan got lucky. A student, rather than a wizened veteran, was on duty at the desk.

  “He shouldn’t be more than fifteen or twenty minutes,” she said. “Then he has office hours, but he doesn’t have any appointments scheduled. It should be no problem. Would you like some coffee?”

  “Just black, thank you.” Nolan settled in.

  “Dr. Casky, this gentleman is here to see you,” the young woman said sixteen minutes later as the man matching the photo Nolan had viewed ninety minutes ago unlocked his office.

  Nolan stood and smiled. “It’s a private matter.”

  Casky stiffened, no doubt recognizing his voice. He wasn’t going to make a fuss, though. “Come on in.”

  Nolan followed Casky into the office. Casky closed the door.

  “I specifically told you not to call here again.”

  “I didn’t call,” Nolan said. “I drove.”

  “I think my meaning was clear.” His irritation also clear, Casky rounded the desk and sat in the high-back brown leather chair on the other side.

  “May I?” Nolan gestured toward an empty side chair.

  Jayden nodded.

  “I’m not normally so intrusive,” Nolan said, “and I suspect you’re not normally so curt. The circumstance is unusual.”

  Another slight nod.

  “Tisha Crowder is a remarkable girl but a confused girl. One of her deepest wishes is not so difficult to understand. She sees other children with their fathers. Coming to school programs. Playing in the park. Going out to breakfast on Saturday mornings. Even if their parents aren’t married, her friends know who their fathers are. Even if there is a custody agreement, there is some arrangement for the children to know their fathers, spend time with them. Tisha has grown up in a household of women who, for the most part, haven’t known their fathers. I think she is right to wonder why this is and to think she deserves better.”

  “That’s quite a speech, Mr. Duffy. One that you should give to this girl’s father, now that you’ve practiced on me.”

  Nolan steepled his fingers. “Well, now, you see, in my line of work, I give more speeches than you might imagine, and I can quite humbly say that far and away, I generally hit the mark the first time.”

  “Is that right?”

  “As a matter of fact, it is.” Nolan sat back in the chair, one ankle propped on the opposite knee. “I’ve only just met you, but my guess is that being a college professor suits you and you’re on a tenure track. You’re building a nice life. A life of learning and expanding not only your mind but the minds of hundreds of young people who come through your classrooms. There’s always at least a little bit of curiosity and selflessness in a serving profession like teaching. But it has its rewards.”

  “It’s my life, Mr. Duffy. I’ve worked hard to be where I am.”

  “Of course you have. You had certain opportunities, and you were able to make the best of them because no responsibilities weighed you down or held you back.”

  Silence.

  “Like a baby, you mean,” Jayden finally said.

  “She’s a teenager now, not so much younger than some of your students. She could apply to enroll here in another couple of years. You have the opportunity to get to know her, answer questions, provide a stable influence.”

  “Anyone who has achieved the age of fifteen has already formed her core values. Research has established this. Whatever Letitia has the ability to become, the resources are already within her.”

  Nolan tilted his head. “You just called her Letitia.”

  “That’s her name, isn’t it?”

  “I never told you it was. You knew there was a child. This is why Brittany knew where you were.”

  Jayden pushed back from his desk and swiveled a quarter turn. “I met Brittany at a concert with some friends. She kept in touch with one of the girls who was there with my group.”

  “So this girl knew Brittany was having your baby.”

  “She knew Brittany had a baby. But Brittany told her to make sure and tell me the baby’s name was Letitia.”

  “Does that name mean something to you?”

  “My grandmother’s name. I used to say that if I ever had a daughter I’d like to give her a classy, old-fashioned name like Letitia. And Brittany would say she’d have to bring it into the twenty-first century.”

  “Tisha.”

  Jayden nodded.

  “Do you have other daughters?”

  Jayden shook his head. “Two small sons.”

  “And they’re part of the lovely life you’re building that doesn’t have room for Letitia?”

  “My wife. I’ve worked too hard to get over past mistakes. I knew her before I ever met Brittany. We were on and off for years, and I kept scrambling things up. Flirting too much. Drinking too much. Cutting too many classes. But she was always the one. Eventually I grew up. Fortunately, she was willing to give me one more chance. We’re happy, Mr. Duffy.”

  “Brittany even has your home address and cell phone,” Nolan said. “Have you spoken to her?”

  Jayden’s head wagged emphatically. “Not once since we broke up.”

  “Then how?”

  Jayden thought for a moment. “She’s probably still in touch with Katelynn, from college. She married one of my fraternity brothers. It wouldn’t be hard for Katelynn to have the information.” Jayden put his head in his hand. “I suppose Katelynn must have figured it out years ago.”

  “As soon as Katelynn told you the baby’s name was Letitia, you knew she was yours.”

  Jayden exhaled.

  “Your daughter knows your name now,” Nolan said.

  Jayden flinched upright. “She cannot come here. I don’t want to talk to her.”

  “She has no interest in causing pain. She just wants to know who you are.”

  “She cannot come. You tell her. She should just go on with her life.”

  “She’ll come someday, Jayden. She has your name, and she’s smart. By virtue of your work, you won’t be difficult to find once she starts trying.”

  “So you stop her from trying.”

  “Agreeing to meet her now—with me present—can remove some of the shock factor that might come later if she turns up on campus or at your house.”

  “I am telling you in the firmest manner possible to tell Letitia in the firmest manner possible that she should not come to meet me. She should not even apply to this university. Is that clear?”

  Nolan turned his palms up. “It’s clear to me, but I don’t make decisions for another person who is not my child and will be a legal adult in less than three years. She’s fifteen now and gets around on a bicycle because she likes her independence. That won’t last much longer. She’ll start driving and take her mother’s car, with or without permission. Or she’ll hitch a ride to west Denver and Uber the rest of the way. Or maybe her older boyfriend will be the one to drive her. Once she turns eighteen, she’s a free agent. And this is a public university. Anyone can apply. Unless you plan to dismantle your careful, comfortable tenure track professorial life and disappear with your wife and two little sons, Tisha will come looking for you. Your daughter is a force to be reckoned with. I’d like to help you both.”

  Jayden stood. “You should go. I have a lecture to prep for.”

  Before he left, Nolan slid his business card across the desk. “You’ll need this when you’re ready. Don’t waste too much time.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Jillian knocked on the doorframe of her dad’s office on Tuesday morning.

  He looked up. “Sh
e’s here?”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry her own mother was right all these years.”

  “When Brittany gave his daughter his grandmother’s name and he still stayed away, she knew for certain what she was to him.”

  “And what the baby would never be.”

  Nolan stood. “But I have to tell Tisha the truth.”

  Ten minutes later, Tisha’s thin frame was taut and her face ashen as she sat on her hands at the edge of the center cushion of the navy sofa.

  “He really doesn’t want to talk to me? Not even once? Not even to meet me? To see what I look like?”

  “That’s what he says.” Nolan leaned toward her from the ottoman, his knees against hers.

  “There’s a chance it’s not what he means, right?”

  “I’m being honest with you, Tisha. I believe it is what he means, at least for now. But people do change their minds.”

  “It’s just like Maclovia.” Tisha slumped into the couch. “Go get another family. Throw away the old one like trash. That’s what he thinks of me. A piece of trash not worth having in his life.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Jillian said from where she stood at the edge of the room. “You’re not trash. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

  Tisha huffed. “I wish you would stop saying things like that.”

  Jillian held her breath, afraid to say anything.

  “It’s just not helpful,” Tisha said. “It doesn’t make me feel better to hear lies. My whole family is trash. Nobody has ever wanted them. And now nobody wants me. My own father is not even curious to know whether I look like him.”

  “You do,” Nolan said softly. “Around the eyes and your chin.”

  Tisha’s eyes filled, and she dragged the back of one hand through them. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I want him, but he doesn’t want me. And grown-ups get what they want.”

  “I gave him my card,” Nolan said, “for when he changes his mind.”

  “But he won’t.” Tisha pushed up off the couch. “We all have work to do. Jillian, what do you want me to work on scanning today?”