“I guess I’ll figure that out when the time comes,” he told Jeff.
“Don’t look now, pal, but the time has come.”
Mike sighed heavily. Yeah, he’d heard the clock ticking himself.
Mike dropped Jessie off at Melanie’s at three-thirty with a promise to be back after all the girlie stuff was over. Jessie had already raced to the bathroom to see the selection of nail polish and hair ribbons Melanie had set out. Mike, however, hadn’t budged from just inside the door. His troubled gaze kept drifting down the hall as if he wanted to follow his daughter and make sure she was okay.
“You can stay, if you’d like,” Melanie offered, her sympathy stirring for him. It was plain as day that he was having trouble letting go.
“No way,” he said, then drew himself up. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“She will be,” Melanie assured him. “And I have your cell phone number. I’ll call if anything comes up that I can’t handle.”
He nodded. “When I come back, I’ll bring that pizza you were talking about the other day, one loaded with everything,” he promised. “Thanks for doing this for her.”
“No problem,” Melanie insisted. “It will be fun.”
He finally made a move toward the door, then hesitated, obviously reluctant to leave. “Sometimes she needs a lot of patience, especially when she gets tired.”
Melanie saw the genuine anxiety in his eyes and fell just a little bit more in love with him at that moment. At this rate, there was going to be no turning back, probably way before she was ready for any commitment.
She put her hand on his arm, felt the muscle tense, then relax. “We’ll be fine,” she assured him, echoing his words. “I won’t lose patience with her.”
“I know that. It’s just that I don’t leave her with strangers much.”
“I’m hardly a stranger.”
“I know and she wanted to do this. She was really excited when I told her it was still on. She was afraid you wouldn’t want her after what happened yesterday.”
“Mike, stop fretting. It’s only going to be a couple of hours,” she said. “We’re going to be so busy the time will fly by.”
“Two hours,” he said as if he were clinging to the thought. “Make sure she knows I’ll be back in two hours. I told her, but she may need to hear it again.”
“I’ll tell her.”
He still looked uneasy. “Maybe I should stay, after all,” he said. “I could work in the yard. She wouldn’t even have to know I’m here unless something happens.”
Melanie realized then that his concern ran much deeper than some sort of father-daughter separation anxiety. He’d spent six years devoting himself to Jessie and her behavior problems. Letting go was going to be as difficult for him as it was for her.
“If you want to do that, it’s okay with me,” Melanie told him. “But something tells me you need this break as much as Jessie does.”
He rocked back on his heels, considering her words. “Yeah, I guess I do,” he admitted.
He gave her a plaintive look that made her heart twist.
“She’s growing up, isn’t she?” he asked, his tone oddly sad.
Melanie bit back a grin. “She is, but she has a long way to go. She’ll still be your little girl for a while yet.”
He gave her a resigned smile. “I guess I’d better get used to this, though.”
“Today’s a good time to start,” she told him. “I’ll take good care of her. I promise.”
Only after she’d watched him walk to his car and take one last glance back at the house did she fully realize the magnitude of what had just transpired. Mike Mikelewski had entrusted her with the most precious thing in his life.
Whatever doubts she’d been harboring about him or about her own judgment vanished. Seeing his heart in his eyes like that was all she needed. The last bit of protective wall around Melanie’s heart crumbled. She was in love with him, and she’d been right…there was no turning back.
Mike couldn’t figure out what to do with himself. He had two hours to kill, time he normally would have spent with his daughter.
He was barely out of Melanie’s driveway when he was tempted to pick up his cell phone and call to see how the two of them were doing. He resisted the temptation, because he didn’t want to look like more of an overprotective idiot than he had earlier.
He jumped when the cell phone rang. Heart thudding, he grabbed it, sure that calamity had struck already. Jessie had probably painted the bathroom with nail polish while he and Melanie were talking. Or she’d gotten hold of the scissors and chopped off her own hair. His imagination ran wild, until he realized the voice on the other end of the line wasn’t Melanie’s.
“Meet me at the Graingers,” Jeff said without preamble.
“Now?” Mike asked, his heartbeat slowing to normal. “I just left there an hour ago.”
“What’s wrong with now? Jessie’s with Melanie, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then get over here.”
Jeff hung up before Mike could ask what was so important that it couldn’t wait till morning.
He made the twenty-minute drive to the Graingers, muttering to himself about his friend’s call. When he’d left earlier, everything had been fine. There’d been no potential landscaping disasters on the horizon. When he arrived to find Jeff sitting on a log, gazing at the river, his curses escalated.
“What the hell’s the big emergency?” he demanded.
“No emergency,” Jeff said, regarding him serenely.
Mike stared at him. “Then what am I doing here?”
“Having a beer,” Jeff said, holding one out for him.
Mike ignored it. “Explain,” he said tightly.
“I figured you’d be a little antsy by now, so I’m providing a diversion. I would have met you at a bar, but I figured you’d never agree to it.”
“Are you nuts?”
“I don’t think so. I’m in a tranquil setting, taking a break, having a cold one. What’s crazy about that?”
Mike could have listed half a dozen things, but instead he sank down beside Jeff and accepted the beer. He might as well. He did have two hours to kill and absolutely nothing better to do with them besides worry.
“How did you know I’d be going out of my mind about now?” he asked.
“Intuition. That and the fact that you were all but twitching with dread when you told me you were leaving Jessie at Melanie’s this afternoon. Man, you have got to chill about stuff like this. Do you want Jessie underfoot for the rest of your life?”
“She still needs me,” Mike insisted. “She’s only six.”
“She needs to figure out she can do okay with somebody other than her dad, too,” Jeff said.
Mike frowned. “I know that. I leave her with you guys sometimes.”
“Long enough to run to the store. That’s about it,” Jeff said. “Lyssa’s been begging for Jessie to spend the night, but you’ve refused to let her.”
“She’s too young for a sleepover,” Mike replied. “Besides, those two get along great for a couple of hours and then they’re at war. I don’t want you all to have to deal with that.”
“They fight. They get over it. It’s what kids do. Haven’t you been around when my three start picking on each other?”
“That’s different.”
Jeff stared at him over his bottle of beer. “This I’ve got to hear. How is that any different?”
“They’re siblings.”
“And that makes the fighting easier to take?”
“No, but they’re your kids,” he said, knowing he wasn’t making a lot of sense. If Jeff and Pam could handle it when their three were on a tear, then adding Jessie to the mix wouldn’t faze them. Rationally he knew that. In his gut, it was harder to accept. Jessie was his responsibility, not theirs.
“We consider Jessie one of the family,” Jeff reminded him. “We’re perfectly comfortable putting her in a timeout if she misbehaves.�
��
Mike held up his hands. “Okay. Okay. She can spend the night some weekend.”
“This Friday,” Jeff said, seizing the opening. “You can take Melanie out and have the whole night to yourselves.” He winked. “You can have your own sleepover.”
It was definitely an intriguing possibility, but Mike wasn’t sure how he felt about all of these people ganging up on him to get some distance between him and Jessie. Or to close the distance between him and Melanie. It was all moving just a little too fast.
“Don’t even try to tell me that you’re not going to take advantage of this opportunity I’m giving you,” Jeff said. “You, Melanie, alone all night long.” He dangled the prospect like a very tempting carrot.
Visions of making love to Melanie slammed through Mike. Jeff was right again. Mike could hardly turn that down.
“I’ll talk to her about it when I get back over there. She may be convinced by then that the Mikelewskis are a bad bet.”
Jeff rolled his eyes. “You’re not giving Jessie nearly enough credit. Most of the time these days, she’s a good kid. You’ve done a great job of getting her to this point. And, frankly, to everyone else it’s obvious that Melanie is charmed by her.”
“If you say so,” Mike responded, though he still harbored his own doubts.
He glanced at his watch and was surprised to see that with the drive back to town and the pizza to pick up, he was actually going to be a little later than he’d intended. He waited for the anxiety to rush over him, for the desire to grab his phone to call and alert Melanie that he was going to be maybe ten minutes behind schedule. Nothing happened. No gut churning. No desperation. Just the comforting realization that Jessie was in good hands.
He grinned at Jeff. “I owe you.”
Jeff nodded. “You do, indeed.”
“I’m not talking about this weekend. I’m talking about making me see that I don’t have to hover over Jessie every single instant.”
“Then my work here is done,” Jeff said, standing up. “Pam will be proud.”
Mike stared at him. “This was her idea?”
“Of course. You sure as hell don’t think I’m this sensitive, do you?”
Mike laughed, feeling more relaxed than he had in a very long time. “Come to think of it, no.”
14
“I can’t choose,” Jessie said, her brow puckered in a frown.
She studied the row of bottles of pink, mauve, beige and red nail polish Melanie had accumulated. In addition to those she’d purchased the day before, there was quite a collection left from when Melanie and her sisters had visited as teenagers. Some were all dried up by now, but there had been a half dozen that were still usable. Some shades were brilliant and clear, some frosted. Melanie could understand why Jessie was having such a tough time deciding. She had a hunch, though, that it wasn’t just the variety that was holding things up. It was evident that Jessie didn’t want the afternoon to end. She’d hugged Melanie a zillion times and said she was having the “bestest time ever.”
“I like ’em all,” Jessie added, her expression wistful as she studied the nail polish.
Melanie grinned. “Well, I can’t very well paint every nail a different color. You have to choose, and soon, too, or your dad will be back.”
“What color do you like?”
Melanie held out her hands. Her nails were cut short and buffed but unpainted. “I’m not the best person to ask,” she told the little girl. “I never get around to painting mine.”
Jessie’s eyes lit up. “We can do yours, too. I’ll help.”
Now there was a frightening idea, Melanie thought. She’d already noted that Jessie had more enthusiasm than finesse with a hairbrush and the lipstick she’d convinced Melanie to let her try. Who knew what she’d do with a bottle of nail polish?
“This is your day,” she told Jessie quickly. “Besides, I’ve been working in the garden. My nails would get all messed up.”
“Not if you wore gloves,” Jessie said reasonably. “Pam has really pretty ones at the nursery. They have little flowers on ’em. I like ’em a lot, but she doesn’t have ’em in my size.”
“I’ll give that some thought,” Melanie promised. “But we’re running out of time now. Your dad will be back soon, so you’d better choose a color, so your nails will be beautiful when he gets here.”
Jessie crawled into her lap and gave the bottles lined up on the edge of the sink a closer inspection. “This one,” she said at last, choosing a hot pink. “Pink’s my very favorite color in the whole world.”
No one would have known that given the way she’d lingered over choosing. The chili-pepper red had been in the lead for a while, Melanie thought with amusement. Melanie was considering that one for her own toes one of these nights when she had time for a pedicure.
“Then pink it is,” she said as she gave the bottle a few quick shakes. “Now give me your hand.”
Only when Jessie’s little hand was tucked in hers did Melanie realize that Jessie had bitten her nails to the quick. Trying not to wince at the sight, she said mildly, “You know, your nails would be much prettier if you didn’t bite them.”
Jessie frowned. “I can’t help it.”
She would have jerked them away in obvious embarrassment, but Melanie wouldn’t allow her to. “Sure you can,” Melanie said easily. “I used to bite mine. You know what got me to stop?”
“What?”
“I kept thinking how pretty they were going to be when they grew out. Every time I started to bite a nail, I thought about that, and soon they were growing. That’s when my mom let me use nail polish for the first time.”
Jessie finally relaxed again and regarded her with curiosity. “How old were you?”
“Way older than you. Twelve, I think.”
Jessie looked incredulous. “And you still bit your nails?”
Melanie nodded. “Whenever I got scared.”
Jessie watched her painting each tiny nail and seemed to be considering what Melanie had just told her. “Didn’t you ever get scared again?” she asked at last.
“Sure,” Melanie told her, starting on the other hand. “Lots of times.”
“What did you do if you couldn’t bite your nails anymore?”
“I drew in a great big breath, like this,” she said, demonstrating until Jessie giggled. “And then I told myself I could do anything. I could get up in front of the class if I had to or I could climb the rope in the gym or I could ace my math test. Pretty soon I began to believe in myself, and I never even thought about biting my nails again.”
Jessie nodded, her expression solemn. “I can do that. I can even beat up Kevin Reed, if he picks on me again.”
Melanie smothered a laugh. “No, you cannot beat up Kevin Reed,” she said emphatically. “It will only get you into trouble, just like yesterday.”
Jessie sighed heavily. “Sometimes Kevin needs to get beat up.”
“Was he mean to you today?”
Jessie shook her head. “He found somebody else to pick on.”
“I see.”
“Janice won’t hit back.” She gave Melanie a hopeful look. “Shouldn’t I hit him for her?”
“Absolutely not. Let the teacher handle Kevin.”
Jessie looked disappointed. Then she held out her hands to admire her new pink nails. “They look beautiful,” she said excitedly. “I can’t wait for Daddy to get back. Let me see in the mirror again. Is my hair still okay?”
“Your hair is perfect,” Melanie assured her, lifting her up so she could see for herself. The lipstick was another matter, but Jessie seemed happy enough with it. Mike was probably going to have a cow.
Obviously satisfied with her own reflection, Jessie threw her arms around Melanie’s neck. “I love you.”
Tears immediately stung Melanie’s eyes. “Oh, baby,” she whispered, hugging Jessie tightly and breathing in the little-girl scent of strawberry soap and shampoo. “I love you, too.”
For the fir
st time in her life, Melanie felt needed. How was she going to give this feeling up when the time came? She’d had no idea that all these maternal instincts had been lurking deep inside her, just waiting for a chance to emerge.
Why did she have to give up anything? The thought came from out of nowhere to plant itself in her head. Once there, she couldn’t seem to make it go away. Of course, loving Jessie was one thing. Committing herself to a relationship with Jessie’s daddy was something else entirely. And for all the warm and fuzzy feelings she was having right this second, she still wasn’t sure if she was ready to take that next step.
Even if she were, Mike might have other ideas about what the future held. There was no point in deluding herself that she was any match at all for the fears and doubts he had about his and Jessie’s worth to another person. Those doubts had driven his life for years now.
She was still holding Jessie, lost in all these mixed emotions, when the doorbell rang.
“Daddy!” Jessie shouted, squirming to get down. “I’ll get it. Where’s my feathers and shoes?”
Melanie handed her the boa she’d found in her grandmother’s closet. It was shocking pink and Jessie had fallen in love with it on sight. She’d also claimed an old pair of red high heels from the closet.
“Remember, you have to walk slow in those shoes,” Melanie reminded her.
“I will,” Jessie promised.
Jessie tottered from the bathroom and left Melanie to wipe away any trace of tears from her cheeks before she went out to face the two people who could change her life forever.
Mike knew he was a goner when he came back to Melanie’s at five-twenty with a large, deep-dish, everything-on-it pizza and found his giggling, bright-eyed daughter with her hair in an elaborate braid of some kind and bright-pink polish on her tiny nails. He could have lived without the lipstick, but gathered that was a necessary part of playing grown-up. She had some sort of feather thing wound around her neck and dragging on the floor behind her. She was wobbling in a pair of high-heeled shoes that were much too large for her. It was the most normal moment he could ever recall, and it made his heart ache that Melanie had been the one to share it with her and not him. But how could he regret anything that had made his baby girl so happy?
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