by Pamela Bauer
Within a few minutes Megan was back clutching a large photo album that looked as if it had seen better days. The edges were frayed and when Megan opened the cover, a sheet of plastic fell out.
“That looks old.” Faith watched as Megan slowly flipped through the pages.
“It was my mommy’s. Here. This is him.” She pointed to a snapshot of a sandy-haired man wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, sitting on the deck of a boat with a fishing rod in his hand.
“I bet he likes to fish, doesn’t he?” Faith noted.
“Sometimes he takes me with him.” She carefully turned the pages, but still some of the photographs slipped out of the plastic holders.
“Maybe you should put this away,” Faith suggested. “It looks rather fragile.”
“First I have to show you my house.” She kept flipping through the album until she found the photograph she wanted. “There it is.”
Faith stared at the rustic-looking cottage built on a hill overlooking Lake Superior. It was badly in need of paint but the yard was neat with marigolds lining the walk. The fact that Megan liked it better than Adam’s expensive home with all the modern comforts only showed that it wasn’t the material things that made the house feel like home to Megan.
“It looks like a nice house,” Faith commented.
“And here’s me swimming,” she said, showing Faith another picture, this one of her splashing in a shallow plastic pool molded in the shape of a fish.
“You don’t swim in the lake?”
She shook her head. “Uh-uh. It’s too cold.” She shivered and rubbed her arms. “Brrr. I went in one time and it was so cold my teeth chattered.”
Faith noticed a picture of Megan wearing grown-up clothing. She had on a pair of pajama bottoms with the cuffs rolled up, a T-shirt that said, Born to Boogie on it and a feather boa wrapped around her neck. On her head was a baseball cap with Cutie Pie embroidered across the top, and a pair of large rectangular sunglasses hid her eyes.
“When was that taken?” Faith wanted to know.
“That was when I was feeling really sad because Angela Dolemeyer wouldn’t let me play house with her and Emily Butcher. Mommy said the best way to get over feeling bad was to dress funky and dance. Do you put on funky clothes and dance when you feel sad?”
“No, I don’t think I do,” Faith answered.
“You should. It makes you feel better.”
Faith doubted that any of the clothes hanging in her closet at the Carsons would be classified as funky. “I’m not sure I know how to dance.”
“I can teach you,” Megan offered eagerly, closing the book and setting it on the end table. “Should I put on some music?” She bounced between the sofa and the floor with an abundance of energy.
“Not just now. I need to finish mending your pants.”
Megan groaned and went back to the window. “It’s snowing again. Big giant flakes. I like to catch them with my tongue cuz they taste good. Oh, please can’t I go outside?” she begged. “Just for a little bitty bit. Please?”
Faith could feel her resolve weakening. Despite what Adam said, she didn’t think that Megan could do any more harm to herself being bundled up in a snowsuit and playing in the snow than she’d done running around inside the house.
“I’ll tell you what. If you promise to be very careful, I will let you go outside, but there will be no sledding, and no jumping off snow piles. Got it?”
Megan nodded excitedly. “Will you come with me?”
“Yes. I like catching snowflakes on my tongue, too.”
“WELL, LOOK AT THAT. Someone made a snowman,” Robert Novak exclaimed as Adam turned his SUV into the driveway. “Megan must be feeling better.”
“Not well enough to build a snowman,” Adam told his grandfather, wondering if the neighbor kids had been playing in his yard. Upon getting out of the vehicle, he took a closer inspection, however, and saw a pink-and-white-striped scarf wrapped turban-style around the snowman’s head, purple sunglasses resting on a plastic pig nose and a mouth made out of radishes. He was certain that all of the trappings, including the blanket draped like a serape across the bulk of the body, had come from his house.
“Very clever,” his grandfather said, giving the snowman a poke with his cane. “Looks like you won’t have to shovel the walk. Somebody did it for you.”
Adam frowned. He should have known Faith would take care of it. She was always cleaning or straightening or moving something. His sister was right. She certainly didn’t shy away from work.
“I suppose it’s too late for me to see my great-granddaughter,” Robert said as he climbed the steps to the front door. “As usual, we stayed longer than we intended to at the boat show.”
That was why Adam had insisted his grandfather come spend the night with him rather than drive all the way back to his home on the St. Croix River. Many of the secondary roads hadn’t been plowed from the recent snowfall and Adam worried about him driving alone at night.
“Megan’s probably asleep, but you’ll be able to see her in the morning,” Adam said as he unlocked the front door.
“She’ll be up before we leave?”
“Oh, yeah. She’ll be up.” He pushed open the door and stepped inside ahead of his grandfather so he could turn off the security system. He discovered, however, that it wasn’t on. A ripple of annoyance wrinkled his forehead. He’d told Faith he wanted the security alarm on at all times.
“Where’s this new nanny Lori was talking about?” Robert asked as Adam helped him off with his coat.
“She’s probably in the living room. Come, I’ll introduce you to her.”
They found Faith curled up in one of the large oversize leather chairs, her eyes shut. The book she’d been reading had fallen to the carpet. She wore a plain white blouse with a navy blue cardigan over it and a pair of dark pants, yet she didn’t look in the least bit ordinary to him. She looked beautiful.
“She’s a pretty little thing,” his grandfather whispered, echoing Adam’s sentiments.
Adam would have agreed with him but he didn’t want to give him any reason to think he was attracted to her. “She’s not exactly little, Grandpa,” he whispered back.
“No, but she sure is pretty. Guess I’ll have to wait until morning to talk to her, too.”
“She’s not going to be here in the morning.”
“No? Why not?”
“Because I’m going to take her home tonight. Lori’s not going to the boat show tomorrow so she’s going to come stay with Megan,” he explained.
“Then I’d better get upstairs. I don’t want to be in the way of you talking to a pretty girl.” With a wink he was gone.
Adam could imagine his grandfather smiling smugly to himself. He should have known he would make some wisecrack about him making the most of his opportunity with a pretty girl. It was what he’d been doing ever since Adam’s voice had changed and he’d started sprouting hair on his chin. Adam usually shrugged off his comments with a grin, but tonight, seeing Faith sleeping like a kitten in his living room, he didn’t see it as a joke. He liked the way she looked asleep. Warm. Soft. Approachable. It was a stark contrast to the message her body language usually gave him—Don’t Touch.
She stirred and her blouse separated in the front, giving him a glimpse of a plain white bra beneath the cotton cloth. He should have known she wouldn’t have lacy, feminine undergarments. She had a simplistic style that fit her personality. Nothing fancy. Nothing colorful. As if she could feel his eyes on her she stirred, her eyes fluttering open.
Startled, she pushed herself upright. “Oh. I must have fallen asleep.”
“All that shoveling must have worn you out,” he said with a grin. “Or was it making the snowman?”
“Megan wanted to go outside,” she said defensively, a sparkle in her eyes. “I watched her carefully to make sure she wasn’t overdoing it.”
He liked that for once the hint of color in her cheeks wasn’t from modesty but from defiance. “I’m
not complaining. Shoveling the walk, however, is not part of your nanny duties.”
“I don’t mind.”
“But I do.”
She shrugged in acquiescence.
“Did everything go all right while I was gone?” he asked.
“Megan went to bed at eight. You had several messages—I left them next to the phone in the kitchen,” she said as she slipped her feet back into her shoes. “We ordered pizza, as you suggested. The leftovers are in the refrigerator.”
“All right,” he said, trying not to notice how sexy she looked tousled from sleep.
“Is the taxi here?”
“No, I’m going to take you home.”
“But Lori said I should take a taxi so you wouldn’t have to wake Megan. She needs her sleep.”
“I don’t need to wake her. My grandfather is spending the night. He’s upstairs and will hear her if she needs anything. Are you ready?”
She nodded and headed for the foyer. She didn’t wait for him to help her with her coat, but pulled it on then stood next to the door while he punched in the code for the security alarm.
“You didn’t have this on when I came home,” he mentioned.
“I must have forgotten to turn it back on when we came in,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s for your own protection.”
“From what?”
“Not from what but from whom. The criminal element of society that has no respect for other people’s property,” he told her.
She gave him a blank look and he wondered if her lack of concern was due to her memory loss or the possibility that she lived in a place where residents didn’t feel a need for security alarms.
She said very little on the way to the Carsons’. As he pulled into the doctor’s driveway, he expected she’d jump out of the Lexus as soon as they stopped.
To his surprise, however, she turned to him and said, “I’m glad we have this time alone.”
“You are?”
She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “Yes. I have something I want to say to you.”
“All right.”
He waited, but she remained silent. She fidgeted with the fingers on her glove and he wondered if she was nervous about what it was she wanted to say.
Finally he said, “I don’t bite, Faith. Just say whatever it is that is on your mind.” Curiosity had him imagining all sorts of things, including the possibility that she was tired of pretending they weren’t tap dancing around the sexual tension that kept getting thicker and thicker every time they were in the same room together.
He wanted to place a hand on her shoulder but he didn’t want to risk her flinching. Instead he said, “Maybe if you gave me a hint as to what it is you want to say I could help you out.”
The shy glance she tossed his way nearly had him reaching for her cheek, but she took a deep breath and said, “I’m concerned about something Megan said to me.”
So it wasn’t about what was—or wasn’t—going on between them. It was about his daughter. “What did she say?”
“It’s hard for me to tell you because she told me in confidence. I said I would keep her secret, but it’s something you need to know.”
“Does she still think her mother might return from heaven?” he asked, his heart growing heavy at the thought.
“No. We’ve talked about that and I believe she now understands that’s not going to happen.”
“Then what is it?”
Faith licked both her upper and lower lip and cast a sideways glance at him as she said, “Megan thinks you don’t want to be her father.”
“What?”
“She thinks you don’t want to be her daddy,” she repeated.
Stunned, he asked, “She told you that?”
She nodded. “She believes you’re only her guardian because the court ordered it.”
“That’s ridiculous. Where would she get such an idea?”
“Apparently she overhead a conversation between her uncle and his girlfriend in which her paternity was questioned.”
Paternity. The word resonated in him like thunder rumbling in a dark sky. “Are you saying my daughter doesn’t think I’m her biological father?” He knew his voice rose with emotion.
She nodded. “Are you?”
“Yes, and Tom Anderson knows it,” he stated in no uncertain terms. “So should that flaky girlfriend of his, because there’s a DNA test on record that proves it.” He didn’t add that the reason it was on record was because he had been the one to request it.
“Does Megan know this?”
“About the DNA test? No. At the time I didn’t think there was any need to tell her. However, had I known she would be running around thinking I’m only pretending to be her father, I certainly would have explained it to her.” He couldn’t understand how she could have become so suspicious of him. “No wonder she’s been so unhappy living here.”
“She’s had a lot to cope with since her mother died.”
“I know she has, which is why I’m doing everything I can to make her feel at home here. She goes to a good school, she doesn’t have to go to day care, she has a brand-new wardrobe—and you’ve seen her room. It has everything a kid could want.”
“Maybe things are not what she needs right now,” Faith suggested.
“As soon as she’s well we’ll get away for a vacation. We both could use an escape.”
“Real pleasure is not about escaping. It’s about togetherness. Megan needs to feel as if she is a part of your world. Can’t she help you with your work?”
“My work?” Was she serious? “I’m an engineer. How is she going to help me design boats?”
“I’m talking about the work at home. She may be small, but there are chores she can do. Dusting the furniture, sweeping the floor, folding the laundry. If you show her what needs to be done by doing the work with her, you’ll not only spend time together but she’ll see how fulfilling work can be.”
For a moment he thought he’d fallen into a time machine and he was sitting opposite June Cleaver or Donna Reed. “I don’t have time for housework. It’s why I have a cleaning lady.”
“I know. And you don’t have a close relationship with your daughter.”
So Faith had noticed the strain in their relationship, too. It shouldn’t have surprised him. It was obvious to anyone who spent any time with them that he hadn’t figured out how to be a father. He didn’t think, however, it was because he hadn’t shown Megan how to mop a floor.
“Look, I appreciate you wanting to help me find a way to reach Megan, but it isn’t as simple as you think. Until six months ago Megan didn’t know she had a father and I didn’t know I had a daughter.”
He could see the curiosity in her eyes. He waited for her to ask the question he knew had to be foremost in her mind, but she didn’t. She simply looked at him with sympathy in her beautiful blue eyes.
“Her mother chose not to tell me I had a daughter,” he continued, trying not to sound bitter, even though he was. “And apparently whenever Megan would ask about me, Christie would tell her that I had died and gone to heaven.”
“I know. Megan told me her mother had done that. It’s one of the reasons she’s confused about her feelings toward you.”
“I’ve tried to explain that her mother made a mistake, that I never went to heaven, but I’m not sure she believes me.” He chuckled without humor. “Of course she doesn’t believe me. If she doubts that I’m her real father, it probably doesn’t matter what I say.”
“Why did her mother tell her you had died?”
“I don’t know,” he answered. He’d spent a lot of time speculating as to why she wouldn’t have wanted him to know he’d fathered a child and there was only one reason that made any sense. “Obviously she didn’t want me in Megan’s life. Maybe she thought I wouldn’t be a good father.”
“If that were the case, why would she name you as Megan’s guardian?”
He shrugged,
staring out into the darkness. “I’m afraid that is something we’ll never know, and I guess it doesn’t really matter what her reasons were. I’m just grateful I now have Megan with me and sorry that I missed out on the first six years of my daughter’s life.”
“Megan missed out on something important, too.” The tenderness in her voice had him turning to look at her. The face staring back at him was beautiful and filled with compassion.
“I’m going to make it up to her,” he vowed, admitting something he would never have said to any of the other women he’d dated.
But then, Faith wasn’t a girlfriend; she was his daughter’s nanny. It was something he needed to keep in mind, especially when every nerve in his body screamed at him to look at her simply as a woman.
“If you don’t want to work, you can sing with her,” she said, her mouth breaking into a partial grin.
“I have a terrible voice.”
“All fathers make sweet music to their children’s ears,” she insisted.
He stared at her for a moment, wondering again who she was and what was in her past that had shaped her into the woman she’d become.
“When I look at Megan I see a little girl who wants very much to belong somewhere. I know that feeling,” she said quietly.
He wondered if that was why she and Megan had connected the way they did. They both had lost a part of their past.
Silence stretched between them but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one.
“I appreciate you telling me about Megan. I’ll have a talk with her first thing in the morning.”
She looked at him. “You’ll remember what I said—about it being her secret she shared with me?”
“I’ll find a way of bringing up the subject without involving you.”
She nodded and reached for the door handle.
“Wait,” he said to her.
She gave him one of her shy glances over her shoulder and it did in his self-control. He leaned across the seat and placed his lips on hers. He expected she would pull back before he could get much of a taste, but she allowed his mouth to coax a sweet response from her before easing away from him. The look in her eyes told him that she’d been caught off guard but pleasantly so.