Jane's Gift

by Abby Gaines

  “The question is,” she said slowly, “is he doing the right thing with his head or with his heart?

  “Are you talking about Charles?” Micki asked, confused.

  “Uh, of course.”

  “Because for a moment there you seemed a long way away. As if you were thinking of someone else altogether. Such as Kyle.”

  “Not at all,” Jane lied.

  “You’re not the only one who can observe others. Running this place, I get to see my regulars a lot, and I notice changes. Kyle’s been different lately. More relaxed.”

  “If that’s true,” Jane said, “it’s because he’s working on being more relaxed with Daisy. I wouldn’t be surprised if it started to spill over into other aspects of his life.”

  “I think he likes you,” Micki said. “A lot.”

  The surge of hope that swamped Jane took her by surprise. She wanted Kyle to like her. Which was beyond stupid.

  “You’re wrong,” she said. “Kyle and I have had some serious disagreements.” I deceived him about Daisy’s conception, and I blackmailed him into letting me stay. “Plus, I told him he needs therapy, for Pete’s sake.”

  Micki hooted a laugh. “I’ll bet that went down well. By the way, in the interest of keeping the peace, I suggest you don’t mention therapy in front of Charles. He’s not exactly a New Age guy about that sort of thing.”

  “And yet you’re crazy about him?” Jane grabbed the change of subject.

  “I never said he’s perfect,” Micki said. “Just like I’m not. Neither is Kyle, by the way.” Subject returned.

  “I know that,” Jane said.

  “But he’s a good man, and he needs a good woman.”

  Jane’s cell phone rang, and she grabbed the reprieve. Unfortunately, the display read Kyle.

  She pressed to answer.

  “I just had a great idea,” he said. “A way we can give Daisy some fun.”

  He wasn’t just a good man, he was a good father.

  “What’s your idea?” Jane said.

  “We can take her to the funfair in Frisco tonight. Get it? Funfair. Even you and I could find some fun there.”

  He was kind, thoughtful, funny.

  “Uh...” Jane said, tempted when she shouldn’t be. Micki eyed her speculatively. “I’m kind of tied up with Micki...”

  “No, she’s not,” Micki called. “She’s free to go.”

  Jane glared at her.

  “Sounds like Micki’s done,” Kyle said.

  “The funfair is something you and Daisy should do, just the two of you,” Jane said.

  “If you come, there’s much more chance I’ll stick to those lessons you taught me.”

  “You need to get used to me not being there,” she countered.

  “Not tonight,” he said. “Daisy and I aren’t ready to let you go just yet.”

  It could have meant a million things. Not going to analyze it.

  “Come on, Jane,” he said, “I’m not sure I can be fun enough on my own.”

  She couldn’t help laughing. “I’m no more fun than you are. Probably less.”

  “Which of us has rubber duckies on their pajamas?” he asked.

  Her mind went back to that morning in the kitchen early last week, him looking at her legs with blatant appreciation.

  “I’ve never seen your pajamas,” she pointed out.

  Micki’s eyes widened. Jane felt heat in her cheeks.

  “They’re navy blue with pinstripes,” he said.

  “Ouch, that’s sad.”

  “Told you,” he said smugly. “Though I should add, I often don’t wear them.”

  “No, you shouldn’t add that.”

  He chuckled. “We’ll leave for Frisco in half an hour. Are you okay to get home by then?”

  “I really don’t think...”

  “You want Daisy to have some fun, don’t you?” he asked.

  There was only one answer to that.

  * * *

  KYLE CLOSED HIS CAR DOOR and hit the remote lock. “Let’s go have some fun.” He gestured to the archway of bright lights ahead.

  Daisy was bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement, a state he’d never seen her in. Her whole face had lit up at the word funfair; just the concept was magic, it seemed—not to mention the perfect solution to Kyle and Jane’s mutual lack of fun-ness. His daughter had even chattered during the half-hour drive to Frisco.

  As they crossed the parking lot, Daisy skipped to keep up with him and Jane. As Kyle paid their admission, she was openmouthed with excitement, turning in all directions to see the lights, the rides, the food stalls.

  Electronic sounds—music from the carousel and other rides, prize buzzers, the shouts of hawkers selling hot dogs and cotton candy—made a cacophony drowned only by the shrieks of people on roller coasters.

  Kyle leaned into Jane. “Not the most impressive funfair I’ve seen, but Daisy seems to like it.”

  Up close, he caught the scent of Jane’s perfume—vanilla and jasmine. She eased away. “Look, a haunted railway.” She pointed. “Can we go on that? Or will it be too scary for Daisy? How scary are these things?”

  “You’ve never been on one?”

  She shrugged, her attention caught by a spinning wheel of fortune. Going by the excited shrieks, a customer had just been promised a major lottery win.

  “You look like Daisy with your mouth hanging open,” Kyle teased. Daisy laughed, but there was an awkward moment between him and Jane while they both processed what “You look like Daisy” could mean.

  “Probably because I’ve never been to a funfair before,” she said quickly.

  “What, never?”

  “There wasn’t one in Pinyon Ridge,” Jane reminded him. “Barb did offer to bring me with them down here to Frisco one year, but Mom wasn’t well, so I pulled out.” Her voice was carefully neutral.

  “Sounds like there’s more to the story than that,” he said.

  “It’s not a day I like to remember,” she admitted.

  He stopped walking, waited for more, keeping an eye on Daisy as she darted to check out a shooting gallery offering the ugliest range of pastel teddy bear prizes.

  After a moment, Jane said, “I rushed home from school to get ready for the funfair, and found Mom nursing a broken nose. Blood everywhere.”

  He winced. “What happened?”

  “It was one of those times when money was scarce. Mom had turned to the only way she knew of earning cash to pay the power bill and groceries fast. The guy—I have no idea who it was—had gotten upset about his lack of exclusivity with her and punched her.”

  “Did you call the cops?” Namely, Kyle’s dad.

  Her mouth turned down. “We didn’t have a phone. I left a note for Barb to say I couldn’t make it, then walked Mom to the other end of town to see Dr. Graham—he didn’t charge folk who couldn’t pay.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Sorry you had to go through that.”

  Her smile was rueful. “The worst part of it is, the whole time, when I should have been worried about Mom, I was seething with disappointment and anger at missing the funfair.” She shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans, her shoulders hunched forward. “Not one of my proudest moments.”

  Kyle wanted to haul her into his arms and tell her she should be proud of herself, making it through times like that and eventually getting away so she could make something of herself. And while he had her in his arms, he might as
well kiss those luscious lips....

  Daisy returned from the shooting gallery. “Can we go on a ride? Which ride can we do?

  “Definitely the Haunted Railway,” Kyle said. “Think you can handle it, Daisy? For Jane’s sake?”

  “Definitely,” she echoed, and Kyle laughed.

  They lined up for the ride and within minutes were being ushered into a little car. Daisy sat between Kyle and Jane, and the attendant lowered the safety bar.

  “Keep your hands in the car,” he instructed.

  Daisy wrapped her hands around the bar, her eyes wide.

  The ride jerked into operation.

  They rattled through a series of supposedly scary encounters over the course of about a minute. Daisy shrieked at every single one, and Jane joined her, out of empathy rather than fear, Kyle figured.

  “We need a sugar fix after that,” Jane said as they got out of the car at the other end.

  “Cotton candy?” Kyle guessed.

  Daisy was immediately utterly absorbed in the pink cloud of spun sugar that he bought her. After she’d walked into three people, not looking where she was going, Jane made her stop and sit on a bench while she finished eating. She and Kyle stood alongside. He’d bought Jane her own stick of the stuff, too, which they shared.

  “This was a good idea, coming to the fair,” Jane said, nodding at Daisy’s rapt expression.

  “Hello, Kyle,” someone called.

  He looked around and saw Susan Tully, Wayne’s daughter.

  “Hi, Susan, you having a good time?” She was holding hands with her two kids, who bore traces of cotton candy on their sweatshirts.

  “You bet.” Susan was noting Jane’s presence with interest. But everyone knew Jane was back in town to help Kyle, so that could hardly lead to gossip.

  “Enjoy your night,” he said, and she correctly took it as dismissal and left.

  When Daisy finished eating, they rode the Ferris wheel.

  “Time for something more sedate,” Jane said after they dismounted. “I feel dizzy.”

  “What’s sedate?” Daisy asked. Ever since they got here, she’d been asking questions. Short ones, but more proactive conversation than Kyle had heard from her before. It had to be a good sign.

  “Sedate means slow and maybe a little bit dull,” Jane admitted.

  Daisy looked dismayed.

  “Like me,” Kyle said, and she giggled. “How about the carousel?”

  “Ooh, yes, please.” Daisy clearly didn’t connect that ride with the word sedate.

  Jane and Kyle ended up on adult-size carousel horses. Hers was cream with a golden mane, while Kyle’s black steed had an incongruous blue mane. Daisy was just ahead of them, on a smaller horse, white with a black mane.

  The fake organ music started, and the carousel began to turn. Jane’s horse rose up as Kyle’s went down, and vice versa, but that didn’t restrict their ability to converse.

  “Against all odds, given the company she’s in, she’s having fun.” Kyle nodded at Daisy, who was gazing around, enthralled.

  “Amazing.” Jane patted her horse’s neck. “Whoa, Nelly.”

  “I’ve been thinking,” he said, as his horse went down and hers rose up. “You and I haven’t always seen eye-to-eye....”

  “Understatement of the year,” she said.

  “But Daisy likes you. She likes having you around.”

  “Thanks.” Jane sounded surprised.

  “I’m getting used to you myself,” he added lightly.

  Her smile was puzzled.

  “Here’s the thing...” He paused, because once he said this there was no taking it back. “I think you have a part to play in Daisy’s life. Maybe, you even have a right to play that part.”

  She gaped, took a moment to find her voice. “I signed a waiver at the clinic,” she began.

  “I’m not talking about legal rights,” he said. Jane was right—she had no legal rights where Daisy was concerned. The first thing he’d done after she broke the news to him was call a lawyer in Denver, who had confirmed that Jane had no recourse, no claim under the law.

  “I’ve realized there’s a certain moral right involved,” he said.

  When she’d first told him the truth, he’d have said no way did she have a moral claim, plain and simple. But now, he saw how she cared for Daisy, even if she held herself aloof. She’d gone to extreme lengths to make sure he let her stay, even committing to walking away at the end of this month.

  Jane realized she was holding her horse’s mane in a death grip. She loosened her fingers. “Why are you saying this now, Kyle? I haven’t asked—I’ve told you, I don’t think of Daisy as...”

  “But she is,” he said.

  They were both skirting around the big words. Mother. Daughter. Family.

  “I can’t believe you’re comfortable with what you just offered.” Her left heel thudded against her stirrup, an agitated beat. His offer was oh so tempting....

  “I’m not,” he said, honest—or blunt—as ever. “Not entirely. But I want to do the right thing.” He paused. “I’m revoking the condition of our deal, the one requiring you to leave town and never come back. I shouldn’t have said it in the first place, and I’m sorry.”

  She should just grab it, like she should grab the carousel pole in front of her, and enjoy the ride. As long as it lasted. But...

  “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Kyle, but you’re not facing reality.”

  He frowned. “I know you care for Daisy.”

  Jane swallowed. She didn’t like to think about how much she cared for the little girl. “Who wouldn’t be fond of her?”

  “It’s more than that,” he said. “I thought you’d welcome the chance to stay a part of her life.”

  “For how long?” she asked.

  “For...as long as you want, I guess.”

  “Right now, things are going well with Daisy and you’re giving me some credit for that. But what if she were to, say, get involved in drugs or petty crime. What are the odds you’d blame her Slater blood?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Or what if one day a biological mother gets in the way of your family? Say, you marry again, and your wife doesn’t want me connected to you.” The thought was painful on more than one level.

  “Nothing stays the same forever,” he said. “I guess we’ll deal with each challenge as it comes along.”

  “What if your way of dealing with it is to remind me I don’t have any rights, and I’m no longer part of this cozy setup you’re suggesting?”

  “I don’t think I would do that.” At least he was honest enough not to be categorical.

  “I don’t want to be exposed again to that kind of hurt,” she said. The kind of hurt Lissa’s rejection had inflicted. “You and I might see eye-to-eye for a few months, maybe even years, for Daisy’s sake, but we’re too different. And when something happens to end this...this relationship you’re talking about, which it will, you’ll still have your daughter and your tight-knit family and your hometown harmony, and I’ll have...”

  He waited.

  “Not nothing,” she said. “Because I have my work and my apartment. But I won’t have what you’ve got.”

  “That might never happen,” he said. “Why would it?”

  “Because I’m a Slater. Eversons and Slaters don’t mix.”

  “It’s not like my family’s perfect,” he said. “You know damn well I have my share of faults, and Gabe go
t into some trouble when he was younger.”

  She snorted. “But he ended up a pastor.”

  “You’re living proof that a dodgy family doesn’t make you a bad person,” he said. “Can’t you trust me not to hold your family against you in future? If I’m willing to put the past behind us, I don’t see why you can’t.”

  “Because it’s not just down to you and me,” she said.

  “I know people like my dad can seem a bit closed-minded, but he’s not a bad guy,” Kyle said. “In fact, he’s a great guy and he’s trying hard to move on. You could try cutting him some slack.”

  “Your father never once cut me an inch of slack, and I was a decent enough kid—mainly thanks to Barb,” Jane admitted. “Your dad figured there was no such thing as a good Slater, and he harassed the heck out of me.”

  She could see him fighting the instinct to automatically assume his dad had been in the right.

  “What do you mean ‘harassed’?” he asked.

  “When Lissa and I were fifteen,” she said, “Lissa wanted to shoplift some nail polish—you know, just to see if she could. I said no, I had this thing that I didn’t want to let Barb down. But Lissa talked me into it. We got caught—your dad hauled us to the station.”

  He waited.

  “Lissa told him the shoplifting was her idea, that she’d had to practically force me into it,” Jane said.

  “That was good of her.”

  That was the Lissa he’d fallen in love with, Jane knew. The gutsy young woman who faced trouble head-on.

  “Very good,” Jane agreed. “Unfortunately, your dad didn’t believe her. Purely on the basis of our parentage, he drove her home to Barb, and stuck me in a cell for the night.”

  Kyle winced.

  “So excuse me if my views are a little jaundiced.” She drew a breath. “But hey, let’s not talk about your father. Let’s talk about mine.”

  “O-kay,” he said warily. He was right to be wary.

  “Did I ever tell you where he lives?” Jane asked.

  “I thought you didn’t know.”