Daddy Lessons
Page 11
“I guess we’ll have to,” Hailey said. She squinted up at the falling snow. “Though it will probably have a foot of snow on it by then.”
“We’ll take a shovel along,” Dan said. He shivered again. “But we should get going.”
“Sure. You must be freezing,” Hailey said, giving him a grateful smile. “Thanks for your help.”
“No problem.”
As Dan coiled up the cables, he glanced Hailey’s way, surprised to see her still watching him. It had been that way all evening, sitting across the table from each other. A casual glance that they both allowed to linger.
The occasional brush of their hands.
It was a like a slow movement toward the emotions they’d shared that moment in the cabin. An easy shift into different territory.
He didn’t want to think too hard about what was happening. He was tired of analyzing and watching. Right now loneliness was too familiar to him and he missed having Hailey in his life.
“We should get going, then,” she said, finally looking away.
She got into the truck. He tossed the cables into his toolbox, then got in himself.
“Miss Deacon’s car won’t start?” Natasha asked, her face lit up by the lights from the dashboard.
“No. That’s why I’m taking her home,” Dan said.
“You should come to our place.” Natasha bounced on her seat. “We can play a game together.”
“I should probably go home,” Hailey said. Did she sound reluctant?
Dan dismissed his dumb thoughts with a quick shake of his head. Now he was just projecting. However, the thought of going home and spending the evening alone with Natasha held less appeal than it once had.
“Do you have games at your place?” Natasha asked.
“I don’t.”
“Do you watch television?”
“No. I don’t have a television. Mostly I read.”
That much hadn’t changed. Hailey was seldom without a book of one genre or another.
“And when I know how to read, I can read books too,” Natasha said. She yawned, rubbed her eyes and heaved out a sigh. “I’m glad you came skiing with me, Daddy,” she said quietly, taking his hand in hers.
“I’m glad too, punkin,” he replied.
And he truly was. Watching Natasha’s pleasure had relaxed an ache in his heart that had been there since Austin’s death. Seeing her smile as she skied and turned on the very hill that had claimed his little brother had created a small shift in his view of Misty Ridge.
As he drove no one spoke, the fresh air and exercise having taken its toll on the skiers.
Quiet strains of music came from the radio and he was content not to say anything. He saw Natasha’s head bob and then she shifted, laying her head on Hailey’s lap.
Dan’s thoughts switched to the times he and Hailey would drive back from the hill, both of them too tired to talk. They would go up to his place, share a cup of hot chocolate and some cookies his mother had made, share stories of amazing jumps, awesome runs and excellent snow with Austin and his parents. Just before dinner, Dan would bring Hailey home.
She always said how much she hated going home. Her mother was often gone and because Naomi and Shannon had moved away, it meant she sat in her apartment by herself.
She never invited him up and he never came. It was an unspoken rule between them. A setting of boundaries.
Boundaries he’d jumped across as soon as he’d left town.
The memory of Lydia was like a stain. And a reminder?
As he came to a stop at the first set of traffic lights in town he glanced over at Hailey again, his thoughts a jumble. He knew he was treading on dangerous ground and had been from the moment he’d confessed how his relationship with Lydia had come about.
But it was as if that confession had eased a strain between them. Had that confession been a mistake? Or had he simply created a space for a change in their friendship? How would that change look?
Hailey, gently stroking Natasha’s hair, shot him a sidelong glance, then slowly turned her head as their gazes connected and held.
He didn’t want to look away. When a smile spread across her features and lit up her face, he couldn’t.
A horn honked behind him, startling him into action. He sped through the green light, made the turn at the alley and then into the parking lot behind the store. He turned off the truck before he realized he had planned on taking Hailey home.
He was about to start the truck again when Natasha’s head bobbed up. “Are we home?” she asked, stretching out her arms.
“Yes, but I have to bring Miss Deacon back to her place.”
“No. Please no. I want her to come and play a game with me.” Natasha turned to Dan and clung to his arm. “Please, Daddy? I won’t complain about bedtime.”
That was almost incentive enough. Natasha was at her most creative when trying to avoid going to bed.
“I’m sure Miss Deacon wants to go home.” To an empty apartment and a book.
“Please. Just come for a little while.” Natasha turned her attention to Hailey. “Daddy doesn’t like to play Snakes and Ladders with me.”
Hailey hesitated. “Just come up for a bit,” Dan said. Reality was, he wasn’t ready for her to go either. “You can help me convince Natasha that bedtime isn’t the worst thing that can happen to her.”
Hailey laughed. “Okay. I’ll come and play a couple of games with you,” she said to Natasha.
But as she spoke, her eyes were on Dan.
A few minutes later Natasha and Hailey sat in the dining room while, in the kitchen, Dan stirred hot chocolate into three mugs. He brought the steaming mugs to the table and set them down beside the girls, then sat down with Natasha.
Hailey looked at the mug beside her then shot Dan a coy look. “Did you put seven marshmallows in?”
“Exactly seven and no more,” he said in a mock stern voice.
Hailey smiled, and he knew she remembered how his mother would carefully parcel out seven marshmallows per cup. She never explained why seven, only that seven was exactly enough. No more and no less.
“Four, five, six. Goody. I get a ladder,” his daughter crowed, swooping her game piece up the board.
“I think I’m going to lose this game,” Hailey grumbled good-naturedly.
“That’s okay,” Natasha consoled her. “Maybe you’ll do better the next game.”
Dan laughed at her parroting of the same encouragement he gave her when she was losing. Hailey’s laughter wove through his and once again their gazes connected.
And once again awareness arced between them. Was it simply old feelings coming back to haunt them? Or was this something new and present?
He stifled his questions, drank his hot chocolate and allowed himself to simply enjoy the pleasure of seeing his daughter happy. Of spending time with Hailey that wasn’t heavy with conflict.
Hailey and Natasha played another game and, true to Natasha’s promise, Hailey won this one.
“See, I told you that you would win,” Natasha said, taking a final sip of her hot chocolate. She set the cup down and glanced at Dan. “I suppose it’s bedtime now,” she said morosely.
“I suppose you’re right.”
Natasha turned her attention back to Hailey. “Can you tuck me in bed?”
Hailey opened her mouth as if to protest, then, to Dan’s surprise, she simply nodded. “Sure. I think I can.”
Don’t read anything into it, Dan thought, getting up to grab Natasha’s pajamas. She’s just humoring Natasha. But the thought that they might share a few moments together after Natasha was in bed made him hurry up.
Be careful. Don’t get involved. You have Natasha to think of.
There is no “simply” with someone like Hailey. You loved her once.
Dan clutched the nightgown as he leaned against the dresser. He was tired. He was lonely. He had been dealing with a lot of changes and disruption the past few months. He hadn’t had a chance to catch up with any of his old friends. This was nothing more than that.
And before his thoughts could accuse him again, he strode down the hallway to the living room to get Natasha ready for bed.
Twenty minutes and three books later Natasha scrambled into her bed and pulled the blankets around her. “Miss Deacon, you have to tuck me in,” she commanded.
“Pardon me?” Dan suggested.
Natasha bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Daddy. That was rude. Miss Deacon, can you please tuck me in?”
“I don’t know if I can do it right,” Hailey said with a grin.
“Yes, you can. You just have to push the sheet and blanket under the mattress. And then I’m all tucked in. And then you have to sit on the bed beside me and sing my song.”
“What song is that?” Hailey asked as she followed Natasha’s instructions.
“The bedtime song my Daddy always sings to me.” Natasha lay on the bed, the muted glow of the nightlight casting her features in shadow. But from his vantage point at the end of the bed, Dan saw her bright eyes flicking from him to Hailey, as if picking up on the sense of expectation lingering on the edges of Dan’s consciousness.
“I’m in the dark here,” Hailey said, sounding confused.
“Of course you are, silly,” Natasha said with a giggle. “It’s nighttime. Daddy, you have to start the song.”
Dan cleared his throat, feeling suddenly self-conscious. He didn’t have the best singing voice. But what made him the most self-aware was the fact that the song he always sang to Natasha was one Hailey had taught him.
She had taught him the song so they could sing it to their children after they were married. It was the song her grandmother had sung to her whenever she tucked her in at night.
Well, it didn’t really mean anything. It was the only bedtime song he knew.
He kept his eyes fixed on his daughter as he started.
“Little one, safe in bed, God is watching your little head. God is holding your little heart, as the daylight now departs.” He stopped and cleared his throat, but he sensed Hailey watching him.
He sang the other two verses and when he was done he brushed a kiss over Natasha’s forehead.
“Are you sad, Miss Deacon?” Natasha asked as Dan straightened.
“It’s a pretty song,” Hailey replied, her voice wavering.
“My daddy said a very special lady taught it to him to sing to little kids.”
“It’s a good song.” Hailey bent over and brushed her hand over Natasha’s forehead. “’Night, sweetie,” she whispered, then got up and hurried out the door.
Dan followed her out, but stopped in the doorway and waggled his fingers at his daughter, their last bedtime ritual. “Sleep well, sleep tight. Stay in your bed all night,” he intoned.
“Until morning,” she called back.
“Until morning,” he repeated. Then he closed the door quietly behind him, waited a moment to gather his thoughts and then walked down the hallway to where Hailey waited in the dining room.
She stood with her back to him, cleaning up the game.
“I can take care of that,” he said.
Her only reply was a careful sniff as her hands stilled their busy activity.
“You taught her the song,” Hailey said, her voice subdued.
“It’s the only bedtime song I know.” Dan came to stand behind her and then, giving in to the impulse he’d been fighting all evening, put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to him.
A lone tear tracked down her cheek and the sight of it disarmed him. He could never handle tears, and Hailey cried so seldom that each instance pulled the ground out from under him.
She kept her eyes on the red game piece she was turning over and over in her hands.
“I’m sorry it made you sad,” he said quietly.
She looked up at him then. “I can’t believe you still remembered it.”
“You sang it enough times to me,” he said, eeking out a smile. “Made me memorize it.”
The smile wavering over her lips lifted his heart. He gently brushed another tear away, his fingers lingering on her cheek.
“It’s a good song,” he said. “Natasha loves it.”
“I’m glad your little girl got to hear it.”
Your little girl. Not their child or children. The ones who were supposed to hear the song.
Regret clutched his heart. What could he say that he hadn’t said already? But he couldn’t let her stand there, her eyes rimmed with tears.
“I’m so sorry for how things happened,” he said quietly, willing her to understand. “I’m sorry that you had to hear about me marrying Lydia from someone else.”
“How could you tell me? We weren’t in a good place then,” she said, as if exonerating him.
Instead, it made him feel even guiltier over how things had happened after he left. And why he had left.
His heart stuttered as he pulled himself back from futile memories and mistakes that couldn’t be changed. Leave the past in the past, he reminded himself. Doing otherwise served no purpose.
Right now Hailey stood in front of him, her sadness pushing at him.
“I can’t change how things happened,” he said, wishing he had the right words to say. “But I have to live in the present and deal with my responsibilities here and now.”
“One of which is Natasha,” Hailey said with a melancholy look.
“Yeah, Natasha is the biggest one and I’ll do anything for her.” He wished that hadn’t come out like a threat. The fierceness of his love for Natasha always surprised him.
“You should be thankful for her. She’s a sweet, precocious child. You’re lucky to have her.”
Guilt and sorrow pierced Dan like a knife. If things had gone according to his and Hailey’s plan, maybe they would have a little girl by now. Or a boy. Or both.
He couldn’t let himself go there. Life was what it was.
Hailey drew in a long, shuddering breath, her throat working as if she struggled to hold back her sorrow.
His fault, he thought, the knife taking a twist.
But he couldn’t stand to watch her suffer anymore. He pulled her close to him, shielding her from the sadness and pain he had caused her. Tucking her head under his chin, he wrapped his arms around her, sheltering her.
“This is all a bit of a mess,” she muttered against his shirt.
He had to agree. And yet, holding her close to him, he didn’t feel that things were a mess at all.
For this moment, he felt as if everything was exactly right.
Chapter Ten
Hailey laid her head against Dan’s chest, contentment flowing through her. It felt good to rest in his arms and be held up by him instead of being strong herself.
She stifled the warning voice telling her this was dangerous territory. How could it be? She belonged in Dan’s arms.
She lifted her face and saw the broken longing in his gaze. A longing that mirrored hers.
They had lost and sacrificed enough, she thought. All she wanted from him was just one kiss. No more.
She lifted her hand, let it rest on his shoulder and then, finally, he lowered his head.
Their lips met in a slow, delicate kiss.
Dan so
ftly drew away, his hand cupping her chin. When she saw the warmth in his eyes she realized how foolish she had been.
One kiss wasn’t nearly enough.
She slipped her hand around his neck and drew him closer to her, clinging to him as if she was drowning and he was her only hope. They shared another kiss. And another.
Finally, she drew away, nestling in the cradle of his arms, wishing time would stop its steady turning.
“This feels so right,” she murmured into the gentle silence cocooning them.
Dan’s only reply was the slow rise of his chest as he took in a long breath. His arm held her anchored to him, his other hand rested on her head, his fingers tangling in her hair.
They stood this way for a long moment, neither wanting to be the first to break the embrace.
Then, a cough from Natasha’s room brought reality into the moment.
Dan drew away, looking over his shoulder, but no sound followed the cough.
Then he turned back to Hailey, his fingers caressing her face, his eyes following their gentle path. “I feel like I should apologize, but I’m not sorry,” he said.
Hailey closed her eyes, letting herself simply be in Dan’s presence as the tangled and unraveled ends of her life slowly became whole.
“It just feels right,” she said, catching his hand by the wrist, holding it in hers.
“It does,” he agreed, pulling her close again. “I feel like I’ve come home after a long, hard journey.”
His words settled into her heart, filling all the empty spaces that had hurt her so long.
But another cough from Natasha’s room became a stark reminder of Dan’s main obligation.
“I hope she’s not coming down with anything,” Hailey said, bringing Natasha into the moment, moving away from him.
“I think her throat is a bit raw from yelling so much today.” Dan let Hailey go, but kept one hand resting on her waist, as if reluctant to release her. “She had a lot of fun. I want to thank you for that.”
“And you? Did you enjoy yourself?”