Dad for Charlie & the Sergeant's Temptation & the Alaskan Catch & New Year's Wedding (9781488015687)

by Stewart, Anna J. ; Sasson, Sophia; Carpenter, Beth; Jensen, Muriel

  He closed his eyes and rested during the drive home. Nothing like an emotional catharsis two days after surgery to test a man’s limits. But at the same time, he felt lighter. The weight of the anger he had carried for so long was gone, replaced with pity. He finally saw Ruth for what she was, not a selfish monster who abandoned her child, but a woman with a heavier burden than she was equipped to carry alone.

  Now that he could get past the sting of her abandonment, memories of better times came back. Of his mother tucking him into bed, cutting his hair, making him a peanut butter sandwich. If she was awake when he left for school, she would remind him to zip his coat and wear a hat, and always gave him a congratulatory hug when he brought home a good report card. The booze made it hard, but she tried.

  His mother wasn’t a strong woman. But she had recognized her weakness, and she’d given him up so he could have something better than what she could give him. She’d understood and trusted Ursula and Tommy’s commitment to him, and she’d been right. Maybe running away was the best way she could manage to show her love.

  Faced with difficult circumstances, she simply couldn’t cope. If she’d been in that situation on the river… She wasn’t like Dana. It would never have occurred to Ruth she could take responsibility and do whatever it took to get him to that plane.

  Sam sighed. Dana, who carried the load for her entire family with never a thank you. Those dainty shoulders of hers could hold the weight of the world, and yet she was vulnerable enough to be moved to tears at the sight of a family of swans.

  He was worried about her, about the effect this revelation concerning her father might have on her. She’d insisted for so long her father was a good man, that he was simply misunderstood. Sam wasn’t sure how Dana felt about Ruth’s story, but he wanted to hold Dana close and make sure she understood that she bore no responsibility for her father’s actions.

  The past was the past. Mistakes were made, people were hurt, but here they were, he and Dana. They were themselves, not the sum of their parents’ choices. They were survivors. Dana needed to know.

  Ursula pulled up in the driveway. Sam climbed the stairs and opened the front door, with Ursula close behind him as though she expected him to collapse any moment. The living room and kitchen were empty, and he realized, belatedly, that Chris’s truck wasn’t in the driveway. Maybe they had stopped for groceries or something. He sank into a living room chair.

  “How about a drink of water? The doctor said you need to stay hydrated.” Without waiting for his answer, Ursula bustled into the kitchen to fill a glass with ice water. When she came into the living room, she handed him the glass and an envelope with his name on it in rounded script. “This was on the island.”

  Sam frowned and tore open the envelope. Typical of Dana, the message was straightforward.

  I’m sorry, Sam. I’m sorry that the selfish behavior of my father had such a devastating effect on your childhood. I’m sorry I defended him to you and refused to believe the truth. Most of all, I’m sorry my carelessness almost cost you your life.

  But I can’t bring myself to be sorry I met you. You showed me beauty I never knew existed, and even more, you showed me how to live. You took the rotten hand life dealt you and you made it into something wonderful. You showed me it’s possible to avoid the obstacles life throws at you and paddle your own boat to the places you want to go. Now I have to paddle mine.

  The time I spent with you is the highlight of my life, and regardless of what brought me there, I’ll always be grateful I came to Alaska. I hope life gives you everything you deserve.

  Dana

  Sam looked at the note again, trying to read something different in the words, but the message was clear. This was goodbye.

  Ursula watched him, her face concerned. “From Dana?”

  Sam met her eyes. “She’s gone.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  DANA SAT AT the desk in her cottage and added up the slips for all the merchandise she’d returned. The sum was probably close to three thousand dollars. She punched in the last amount and hit total. Two thousand nine hundred ninety-seven. Math, she could do. If only real-life problems could be solved so easily. Dana gave a wry smile and filled out a deposit slip for her mother’s checking account.

  She put the calculator away and sat back in the chair, letting her gaze roam around her kitchen. Only three ceramic canisters marred the smooth expanse of countertop. The yellow daisy print on the café curtains at the window added a touch of color. If she opened a drawer or a cabinet door, the tool she needed would be there, easy to spot. She’d always loved this house, from the second she’d moved in. So why did the peace she’d always prized now seem too quiet, too dull?

  She could think about that later. The bank closed at noon on Saturdays. She scooted back the chair, grabbed the pile of cash and the deposit slip and hurried out the door.

  Thirty minutes later and the deposit made, she parked in front of her parents’ house. The towers and gables of the regal Victorian reached for the open Kansas sky. The bright green lawn, professionally maintained since Chris left home all those years ago, ran up to the boxwoods at the base of the porch. Two wicker rockers on the porch looked like an inviting place to drink a glass of lemonade and catch up with family, but as far as Dana knew, those chairs had never been used. No one had ever offered her a glass of lemonade, or invited her to sit and talk. Her family didn’t do that.

  Remembering the expression on Ursula’s face when Sam climbed out of the truck at her inn, how she’d hugged him and made his favorite foods, left Dana feeling wistful. Then she remembered how Ursula came into Sam’s life and the feeling faded. So her parents weren’t the most affectionate people in the world. Dana always had a home, and food, and all the clothes and school supplies she’d needed. Actually far more than she’d needed. She was one of the fortunate people.

  And maybe this emotional distance from her family was partially her own fault. She wasn’t a child any longer. If she’d wanted things to be different, she could have made changes. She could have engaged her parents in conversation, tried to get to know them better. Heck, she could have made lemonade.

  But there wasn’t any use crying over the past. It was time to move forward. Dana used her key to let herself in via the kitchen door. “Mom? Are you here?”

  “Dana.” Her mother came from somewhere in the back of the house. “I was just looking through a catalog and I found the cutest pillows for your bedroom.”

  “That’s sweet, Mom, but I don’t have room for extra pillows so please don’t order them. I returned the things we talked about yesterday and put the money in your checking account.”

  “I’m so glad you’re home. That Ginny person couldn’t keep my account straight. She actually said I was out of money.”

  Dana suppressed an eye roll. “You were out of money. I moved money from my savings into your account, and she still had to pay the electric bill late, along with an extra twenty-five-dollar service charge.”

  “Well, anyway, I’m fine now.”

  Dana opened the refrigerator and poured them each a glass of iced tea. “Sit down, Mom. We need to talk.”

  Her mother frowned suspiciously. “About what?”

  “Just sit.” Dana settled into the chair next to her and reached for her mother’s hand. “I love you.”

  “What?”

  “I love you. I know we never say things like that out loud, but it’s something you need to hear. Sometimes I get aggravated with you, and I’m not always patient, but I do love you. You know that, right?”

  “Well, of course. I love you, too.”

  Dana smiled. “I know. That’s why you’re always trying to buy me new pillows or things.” She squeezed her mother’s hand. “That’s why you’re always buying yourself things, too, isn’t it? To make yourself feel loved?”

&nbs
p; “Dana, what are you talking about?”

  “This shopping habit of yours. Since Dad died, it’s gotten even worse. Mom, it’s got to stop.”

  Her mother raised her chin. “But I never buy anything that isn’t on sale. I save a fortune by careful shopping.”

  “It’s not a savings if it’s for something you don’t need.” Dana paused until her mother looked at her. “You’re an intelligent person. You know how much money the trust transfers into your checking account each month, and you know how much your bills amount to. I’ve seen you calculate sixty-five percent off an eighty-five-dollar sweater without blinking. You are perfectly capable of doing the math to stay in your spending budget. You didn’t need Ginny to tell you you’d bought too much.”

  “I made a mistake. But you took those things back to the stores, and everything’s okay now.”

  “It’s not okay. But we can make it better.” Dana pulled a card from her pocket and handed it to her mother.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s an appointment card, for Monday at ten. Dr. Stevens can help you get control of your obsession with buying things.”

  Mom crossed her arms in front of her chest. “It’s not an obsession, and I don’t need a doctor. I’m fine.”

  “You’re better than fine. You’re smart, you’re attractive and you’re worth so much more than the things you own. I talked with the doctor yesterday, and she explained some things to me. She’s worked with other people who feel the way you do, and they’re happier now.”

  “I’m already happy.”

  “Are you? What was the last thing that made you happy besides buying something?”

  “I, uh. Yesterday I… Well, that’s just silly, putting me on the spot like that.”

  “Are you happy I found Chris?”

  “Of course.” She latched on to the lifeline. “How is Chris?”

  “He’s good. He has his own business and also does commercial fishing. He loves Alaska.”

  “Good.” Mom turned the iced tea glass in circles.

  “He knows about his birth mother. You don’t have to keep that secret anymore.”

  Mom looked at her with wide eyes. “What did you find?”

  “The truth. About Chris’s mother, about her death and about the death of Dad’s business partner. How much do you know about it?”

  Mom shook her head. “Nothing. Only that Chris was born when your father was in Alaska, but it was important to Wayne that nobody knew I wasn’t Chris’s mother. He never talked about his life before I met him.”

  “That’s what I figured.” Dana sighed. “Dad did some bad things. Not illegal, per se, but things he knew were wrong. His wife and his partner were killed in an accident, an accident he caused, and he cheated the man’s family out of his share of the insurance money.”

  “No, that can’t be right. Wayne went on and on about being honest. He got so angry if I told even a little lie about when I bought something.”

  Dana raised her eyebrows. “And yet he had you lie to Chris about his mother all his life.”

  “That was different.”

  “How was it different?”

  “He did that for Chris’s sake. So he wouldn’t feel left out.”

  “Did Dad say that?”

  “No, but why else would he do it?”

  Dana kept asking herself the same question, and could only find one answer. “For his own sake. He didn’t want any questions about Alaska or his first wife, and so he pretended it never happened. How did you explain to your friends and family how you came to have a three-year-old son as soon as you married?”

  “I wasn’t from here. I moved here from Idaho and went to apply for a job in Wayne’s store. He hired me as a nanny instead. Two months later, we married. I never saw my parents after our marriage, just talked on the phone a few times.”

  “You never went to visit, or had them come here?”

  “We were never close. Wayne said it didn’t matter, that I had a new family now.”

  Dad certainly played that well. A caretaker for his son and a cover story all wrapped up in a neat, obliging wife. The only trouble was, Dad showed his wife no more affection than an employee. Did he feel guilty that he didn’t love her? Maybe that’s why he tolerated the out-of-control shopping and hoarding. Because it was easier than facing their problems.

  “Mom, Dad didn’t treat you the way you deserved to be treated. He used you.”

  “No. I was his wife.”

  “Yes. And you deserved more than he gave you. You deserved to be loved, not just indulged. You still deserve love.”

  Mom frowned at her. “You’ve always adored your father, but now you’re talking about him like he was a villain. What’s gotten into you, Dana?”

  “He was closer to a villain than a saint, but I don’t think he was evil. He did some bad things, but he did try to make up for them, at least in a small way. He was human, like the rest of us, and it’s healthier if we recognize that. He made plans for us, plugged us into certain roles, but he’s gone now. We’re free to break out of those roles if we want. I think this doctor can help you be happier.”

  Mom fingered the card. “Dana, I don’t know.”

  “Go to the appointment. Talk to the doctor. What can talking hurt?”

  “It’s a waste of money.”

  There was a hint of hysteria in Dana’s laugh. “Are you really going to use that as an excuse?”

  Mom hesitated before she spoke. “Chris is happy in Alaska?”

  “Yes, he is.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of Mom’s mouth. “I’ve missed him. He was such a sweet, funny boy, always laughing.” She tapped the corner of the appointment card against the table. “Okay, I’ll go on Monday. But I’m not promising anything after that.”

  “I understand.” Time to lighten the mood. “It’s too hot to cook. How about I make us a nice Caesar salad for dinner tonight?”

  Mom’s eyes brightened. “I’d like that. I just bought the nicest salad bowl.”

  * * *

  DANA GLANCED AT the time in the corner of her computer screen. Mom should be with Dr. Stevens now, and having met the doctor, Dana was fairly sure she would be able to convince Mom to keep coming. She was warm, patient and compassionate, and able to give her the attention Mom was so hungry for.

  The web page popped up and Dana returned her attention to the college application form. It was a little scary to contemplate returning to school after all this time, but exciting, too. Before she could start typing, her phone rang.

  “Dana? It’s Heather.”

  “Hi. Thanks for returning my call.”

  “Sorry it took so long. I had to wait until lunch. I didn’t want to take a chance on Jerry overhearing.”

  “I understand. I just wanted to check in with you to see if things had gotten better at the office.”

  “For about five minutes. But now Jerry is on this frugality kick and has started cutting people’s hours. The maintenance guys are blaming me. Revenues are way down.”

  Dana realized she was holding a pen like a dagger. She set it on the table. “How bad is it?”

  “It’s bad. And I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be here. Jerry was digging through my desk the other day, asking questions. I think he’s trying to get rid of me.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Because that way, if anybody asks what’s going wrong, he can blame everything on me.” Heather paused. “Dana, I’m going to have to start looking for another job before he fires me. I can’t afford to be unemployed.”

  Dana pressed her hand against her forehead. Now that Dana had quit, Heather was the only one at the office who understood the books, the scheduling and the systems. It really hadn’t been fair of Dana to du
mp it in her lap and disappear, the way Chris had done with her. She probably should have stayed. A good part of Mom’s income depended on the business. They couldn’t afford to lose Heather. “I just wish the trustees had put you in charge, instead of Jerry.”

  Heather snorted. “Me, in charge of hiring and firing and all that HR? Right.”

  “You underestimate your abilities. You practically run the place, anyway. Honestly, you’d probably be better off going somewhere else where they’d pay you what you’re worth, but I’m still going to ask a big favor. Can you stay a little longer, just to give me a chance to investigate a few things? I think I can make things better, for you and for the business.”

  “You really think so?”

  “I do, but I’m going to need your help. What do you say?”

  Heather paused, but when she spoke, her voice was firm. “Let’s do this.”

  Dana spent the next few hours poring over the spreadsheets Heather sent. At three thirty, she shut her laptop and stretched. Today was her day at the shelter.

  As soon as she walked through the door, Jane came running over to wrap her in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re back. We’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too. What are the numbers today?”

  “We’re at capacity. Tyra found a job and moved her kids into an apartment, but we got a new family—three kids and Mom is pregnant.”

  “And the dad?”

  Jane shrugged. “Went for cigarettes and never came back. They just moved here when he took a new job, so they have no family or backup.”

  Dana nodded. It was a familiar story.

  “Any kids who need help with math before dinner?”

  “There always are.”

  “Good. I’ll be in the quiet room.”

  Dana went to check with the kids doing their homework. She explained multiplication by a two-digit number to a fourth-grade boy and then managed to talk a middle schooler dealing with fractions down from a ledge. Her final project was a ninth grader trying to make sense of an algebra lesson. It took them both some digging, but eventually Dana managed to find the concept the girl had missed in a lesson from two weeks before, just about the time they got evicted and moved into the shelter. Once she grasped that, the rest fell into place without too much trouble.