She swiped at the silent tears coursing down her cheeks, accepting the handkerchief Reiner offered. How and when had he ended up between herself and her mother so that it was him she was drawing comfort from? Later, she’d have to think about that.
Barnie finished, patting her hand as he passed, and Ms. Charlotte moved to the front. Katie Sara saw her mother start, saw tears in her eyes.
Katie Sara listened with a thankful heart to the eulogies and blessed each speaker. She was oh, so grateful she’d spoken first because she was so choked up now, she’d never have been able to make it through her simple, heartfelt words.
After Father O’Reilly gave the final benediction, she and her mother left to form a receiving line.
As she walked past the sea of faces, she saw Auntie Belham, Felicity, and a group of her students. One of them handed her a single white rose and leaned into the aisle to hug her. “We’re so sorry, Ms. McMichaels.”
“Thank you, Mandy.” She brushed a hand over the girl’s shiny blond hair.
She’d called Barnie about the service as she’d promised. He must have contacted others he thought should know, who’d contacted others. But her students? How did they know? Reiner. He’d told Felicity. Her heart spiked.
These were good people. This was what she’d been searching for since she’d left Paradox. No, since she’d been taken away.
Salve for the soul.
“Oh, Daddy,” she whispered in her mind. “Now, I know why you asked to come back. You must have yearned for this, too.”
Somehow, she made it through the sympathetic murmurs of friends and neighbors. Even judgmental Philomena Passarelli and Marge Fisher had come as well as Agnes Jones, her next-door neighbor.
By the time everyone had expressed their condolences, Katie Sara’s head and feet ached. She smiled, though, when her mother sat down with some old friends to catch up. It had been a long time since she’d been back to Paradox, and Katie Sara’d bet her mother had spent more than a few days homesick for these people who had been such an important part of her life.
Now, it was time to pretend to eat the lunch the wonderful church ladies had fixed. She doubted her stomach would accept a bite of food today.
Wandering over to the buffet table, she selected a decaf tea bag and filled a cup with hot water.
“Katie Sara, your father’s service was beautiful.” Judge William Cavanaugh III picked up a photo of her father from a small stand by the buffet. “I miss him.”
She rounded on him, her cup clattering in its saucer. “Excuse me?”
Judge Cavanaugh wet his lips and swallowed hard. “He was my friend.”
“Your friend,” she repeated, voice strained. “Yet you allowed the prosecution to stack the charges against him. Added federal income tax evasion to the embezzlement. Then you ruled the terms run consecutively rather than concurrently.”
“It was a rash decision. He let us all down. We—”
Katie Sara’s eyes flashed. “The system punished him with an extra five years in prison because you let it get personal!”
“I tried to undo it, but I couldn’t get the ruling set aside. There were no grounds for dismissal. I’d tied the package too neatly. I’m sorry. I didn’t think—” He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “He spent his last years behind bars. That’s my punishment. What I have to live with.”
“What do you want, Judge?” She set her cup on the table. “My sympathy? Absolution?” Her voice sounded harsh, foreign to her ears.
“No, Katie Sara, no. That’s more than I could expect, far more than I would ask. Certainly more than I deserve.” He placed the picture he still held reverently on the stand, then raised a hand as if to touch her arm. Thinking better of it, he dropped the hand to his side. “I wanted you to know how sorry I am. How truly, truly sorry I am.”
With that, he walked away.
She’d seen the truth in his eyes. In a sad, strange sense, her daddy might be freer at this moment than Judge Cavanaugh.
Life sure could suck.
After what felt like eons spent in Purgatory, it was finally time to go home. Groups and singles straggled out, leaving her and her mother with one more hug, one more expression of sympathy. When Katie Sara offered to stay and help clean up the chaos left in their wake, the church ladies shooed her out the door.
Her father’s photos in a shopping bag, Mandy’s rose in hand, she stepped out into brilliant sunlight and a world of normality.
“A blue-bird sky. That’s what Daddy would have called it.” Katie Sara stood on the church steps.
“He loved you, Ace.” Reiner threaded his fingers through hers, surprised when she didn’t pull away. “Whatever happened, whatever went wrong doesn’t change that.”
“Choices, Reiner,” Claire McMichaels Channing said, her voice brittle.
Reiner thought Katie Sara’s mother, elegant as always, in a black sleeveless sheath, looked tired beneath her carefully applied make-up.
“It all comes down to the choices and decisions we make. But, then, the two of you certainly learned that lesson the hard way, didn’t you? Although, it wasn’t either of you who paid the ultimate price, was it?”
Reiner drew back. “What?”
“Mother, that’s enough.”
“No,” Reiner said. “Wait a minute.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his ’Vette round the corner and slide to a stop in front of the church. The horn beeped twice in quick succession. He winced. Shoot! Talk about timing.
“Katie Sara, I have to run.”
“Yes, I guess you do.”
Gina beeped again. He ignored her, taking Katie Sara’s arm. “You gonna be okay?”
“I’m fine.” She pulled away and moved to speak to one of her father’s friends.
He watched her for a moment.
Gina shouted, “Hey, big guy, you comin’?”
“Yeah, I’ll be right there.” He threw another look at Katie Sara and jogged down the stairs.
As he slid into the car, Gina planted a big kiss on him. He jerked away. “Hey, go easy. This is a funeral.”
“Well, sugar, I ain’t dead.” Her hand inched up his thigh. “And from the feel of things, neither are you.”
With a laugh, she shifted into gear and shot off down the street. In the side mirror, Reiner saw Katie Sara watching and cursed under his breath.
* * *
Katie Sara had been certain her bruised and battered heart couldn’t possibly hurt any worse. Leaving the house this morning with her father’s ashes, her entire body had felt weighted down. She’d miss her daddy. With this last promise kept, she felt at loose ends. There was nothing more she could do for him.
Nothing.
She couldn’t make him well, couldn’t bring him back. Couldn’t prove him innocent.
Tears clogged her throat and burned her eyes. Unfortunately, they hadn’t blocked her view of Gina and Reiner. Of Gina’s hand slipping to the back of Reiner’s head, her lips covering his.
So much for softly spoken words delivered on a blanket beneath the moonlight.
“I see Reiner’s moved on to greener pastures.”
Katie Sara shriveled as her mother moved beside her.
“Wasn’t that Gina Altenburg?”
“Denlinger now I’ve been told, by a rather circuitous route.”
“Looks like she’s doing well for herself.”
“Yes, she is, Mother. The car’s Reiner’s, though.”
“Well, from my quick glimpse of Gina before Reiner swallowed her, I’d say she’s pretty world-savvy. My guess is she can take care of herself. Knows how to protect herself.”
Red-faced, Katie Sara reverted to seventeen again. Jeez, she hated that her mother could do that with only a few words!
“Are we done here? There’s something I need to talk to you about before I catch my plane.”
The first thing Katie Sara did when she got home was to return the photo of her family to its rightful p
lace on the mantel. “There you go, Daddy.”
Her mother drifted through the downstairs rooms. “I knew the moment we pulled up in front that this house was special.” She turned to Katie Sara, a smile on her face. “Sugar, you’ve made something to be proud of here.”
When Katie Sara stood dumbfounded, her mother said, “Now, close your mouth, fix me a cup of real coffee, and let’s get down to business. I’m on a tight schedule.”
“I wish you could stay overnight.”
“Hayden—”
Katie Sara waved her hand. “I know.”
She tossed beans in the coffee grinder and cranked it up to drown out her mother’s words. Darned if she’d listen to anything else about His Royal Highness, King Hayden.
Chia followed them into the backyard while the coffee brewed. The instant her mother settled onto the swing, he jumped into her lap.
“Oh!” She lifted him off quickly, picking at the long white hairs left behind on her black designer dress.
“Chia,” Katie Sara scolded.
Grinning, the cat sat on his rump at her mother’s feet. The two didn’t like each other. She swore the cat went out of his way to aggravate her mother. Picking up on Katie Sara’s tension, he’d posted himself sentry. Just let her mother try anything. Chia’d have her covered in white hair before you could say catnip!
Katie Sara bent to smell the jasmine along her fence. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yes, certainly, but I may or may not answer.”
“Okay, that’s fair enough. You and Daddy were high-school sweethearts.”
“Yes. He was three years ahead of me. I always knew I’d marry your daddy.”
Katie Sara’s brow furrowed. “Why did you wait so long? To get married?”
Her mother’s laughter held a hint of nerves. “Twenty-four’s hardly an old maid, for Heaven’s sake.”
“No, you’re right. That’s not old.” Katie Sara gave a half-laugh. “I’m the old maid.”
“That’s not your fault, though, is it? If—”
“It’s my choice, Mother. I haven’t met anyone with whom I want to spend the rest of my life. Forever is a long, long time. It takes two special people to make that commitment.” She raised her brows. “I haven’t found him. Yet. But...back to you.”
“All right. If you must know, your father sort of, well, stayed away for a few years.”
“What do you mean, stayed away?”
Claudia shrugged. “It sounds strange, but your father wasn’t like all the other boys, content to attend one of Georgia’s universities. Not him. He had to go to King’s College in London to study humanities. When he first left, he called me occasionally, but that got expensive fast. We didn’t have cell phones or e-mail or texting. We wrote actual letters, and he came home for Christmas and summer breaks. Then— Oh, I don’t know.”
Twisting her wedding band, she said, “He grew distant. I rarely heard from him, and when I did, it wasn’t the same. He wasn’t the same. The summer between his junior and senior years, he didn’t come home. He worked, instead, building up experience and contacts he felt would help later. His entire senior year, he stayed away at school. What could I do?”
She gave the swing a small push with her foot. “His parents flew over for his graduation. I wasn’t invited. They told me Ralph looked well, but that he hadn’t had much to say and hadn’t spent much time with them. After graduation, he stayed in England a bit longer. All in all, it was almost two-and-a-half years before he came back to Paradox.
“By then, I was in my last year of college. Fool that I was, I still loved him.” Dry-eyed, she met Katie Sara’s gaze. “We married the day after I graduated. I never asked about his London years, and he never spoke of them.”
“And nobody ever mentioned this to me? Everybody’s kept it a secret? Do you think those years had anything to do with—”
“It wasn’t a secret. It simply never came up.”
At her skeptical look, her mother continued. “As for the other, I don’t know. I assumed he’d tell me some day when he was ready. But the years passed, and I finally accepted that wasn’t going to happen.”
She stood, laid a hand on Katie Sara’s cheek. “We were happy, sugar. Outrageously so. Despite everything, I wouldn’t give up a single moment with your daddy.” She sniffed and drew out her Kleenex, then almost visibly readjusted herself mentally and emotionally.
“Now, let’s go inside, have some coffee and talk about that box I brought.” She looked down at Chia. “Will this cat come in with us?”
“Probably.”
They sat in her sunny kitchen, Katie Sara uneasy, her mother resolute, the Persian curled at her feet.
“Before Daddy—” Her mother cleared her throat and started over. “When Daddy realized the jury would probably find him guilty, he packed up this box. Inside, there’s a photo album he put together for you. He sealed the box and made me promise on my life I’d safeguard it. No matter what happened, this was to go to you. He even had me put it in my will.”
“It’s in his, too.”
“I’m sure it is.”
“Why is it so important? What’s in the album?”
“Family photos.” A faraway look came over her face. “But those were good times. Maybe he wanted you to remember the way it was.” Her eyes grew misty.
“I don’t need pictures for that.”
“Well.” Her mother sniffed and pulled herself together. “You have them anyway. They’re yours now. My duty’s done.” She slid the box across the table to Katie Sara and brushed at Chia who had chosen to wrap himself around her legs. “If the pictures were in Daddy’s will, why didn’t you ask about them?”
“I knew you’d give them to me if you still had them.”
She laughed. “If I still had them? God, that album has been like an albatross. I’ve fretted about the damn thing all these years. What if there was a fire? A flood? What if I died, and you didn’t get it?”
“Mother—”
“No, Katie Sara.” She shook her head. “You don’t understand how...adamant, I suppose is the word, your daddy was about this. Hayden finally rented a safety deposit box at the bank. That’s where I’ve kept it.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not. Your daddy also made me swear I wouldn’t peek...but that I’d keep it until he got out. Or until he died. Then I was to give it to you. Seal unbroken.
“I called him after you told me he was being released.”
“You called him?”
“I did. I thought he might want me to send it to him at your place. He asked me to keep it.” Her voice trembled. “To deliver it to you in person—with his love.”
Katie Sara laid a hand over her mother’s, aware of another black-and-white line blurred to gray.
“I’m keeping my promise to your daddy, sugar.” Her mother took a deep breath, turning her hand to grasp Katie Sara’s. “I know you’ve never forgiven me for divorcing him. For marrying Hayden.”
When Katie Sara opened her mouth to speak, her mother shook her head. “No. I won’t ask you to. A girl’s daddy is...” She swiped at a tear. “There’s a special place in a girl’s heart that belongs only to her daddy. No one will ever fill that spot, not even a lover or a husband. That love is equally wonderful, but different.”
Katie Sara threw her arms around her mother, and the two cried. Cried as they should have long ago. Old wounds in her heart began to close, to mend.
She’d buried her father today, but maybe, just maybe she wasn’t an orphan after all. She might have found her mother.
Sprawled in the sunspot on the bedroom floor, Chia yawned. Now that her mother had driven away in her rental car, Katie Sara felt like a blow-up doll whose plug had been pulled. Exhausted, she kicked off her shoes, unzipped her dress, and let it slither to the floor. She’d drop it at the cleaner’s tomorrow, then donate it to Goodwill; she’d never wear it again. She started a bath, added scads of bubbles, and lit a candle.
>
The box containing the photo album her mother had given her sat on the dresser. Not tonight. Her emotions were too raw, her loss too new. Strange, but the house felt lonely, as if with the giving up of her father’s ashes, she’d lost him. For the third time. How could it still hurt so much?
And would it ever stop?
She opened her closet door and slid the box onto the top shelf. When she could handle it, she’d see what her father had insisted her mother hang onto all these years.
The tears started again, and this time she didn’t even try to stop them. Tomorrow she’d get on with life, but today she’d mourn her father.
And maybe she’d shed a few tears for a curly-haired, blue-eyed quarterback who’d ridden off into the sunset with a beautician instead of a sex-ed teacher.
A glass of white wine in hand, she lit several more candles, pressed a button, and released the strains of soul-soothing string music. Then she slid into the warm water and let it comfort her.
“Auntie Belham, what’s in this box?” Felicity had gone home from the services with her great-aunt and, despite the heat, managed to cajole her into dragging a couple of fans into the attic so they could dig around.
Her dad had left some of his things there, and she dug out his old baseball mitt.
“Can I have it?” She pounded her fist into the worn leather, feeling closer to him than she had since he’d left for overseas. Holding the glove to her nose, she swore she could smell him.
Auntie Belham stood behind her. “Yes, honey, you certainly may. I think he’d like that.”
When Felicity turned, her aunt’s eyes were moist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad!”
“You haven’t.” She drew Felicity into her arms. “It’s just that the boys grew up so quickly. Time is very fickle. Each day seems long enough, but put together, they have a way of speeding by lightning fast.”
She tousled Felicity’s hair. “What else is in there?”
They knelt, pushing a determined Ivan aside more than once, and found some pictures, baseball cards, and a Swiss-army pocketknife. The sort of treasures a young boy tossed into a box he planned to come back to in a day or so.
Moonlight, Motorcycles, and Bad Boys Page 11