The Daughter He Never Knew

by Linda Barrett

  “Bye, all,” she said, blowing a kiss to Katie. “Be good, pussycat.”

  “That’s easy. Daddy’s here, and we’re gonna figure out where to put the new piano when he moves out of Sea View House.”

  She’d forgotten about the piano. “Just talk about it. Don’t any of you dare move furniture.” She threw a concerned glance at the ROMEOs.

  “Of course we won’t, Lila.” Jason approached. “You’ll have the final say-so. Promise.”

  She gave him a meaningful glance. “Promise? You shouldn’t use that word.”

  His eyes darkened instantly and the tic in his jaw returned, but the rest of his face showed no expression.

  She’d scored a cheap hit, and they both knew it.

  AS SOON AS THE DOOR CLOSED behind the couple, the room erupted with activity as everyone moved into the dining room. Everyone but Jason. Lila’s parting shot reverberated in his ears, and he knew immediately that he had no chance of having any relationship with her. The truth was she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw a piano. And without trust, they had nothing. Not even friendship.

  He finally took a seat at the table between the M&M’s and the potato chips. Katie was busy carrying small bowls of goodies and placing them strategically around the perimeter. He began to laugh.

  “What’s so funny now?” asked Sam.

  Jason shook his head, still chuckling. “The absurdity. I’ve sat at more poker tables than you guys will ever know, but never have I been served in such style! Thanks, Lady Katie.”

  She beamed at him. “You’re welcome, Laddie Daddy.”

  “Ha! I like that, lassie.” Bart pushed the deck of cards to Jason. “You want to take these first? My arthritis is acting up today.”

  “Sure. Dealer’s choice?”

  Bart nodded.

  Jason unwrapped the new deck. “This is seven-card stud, and just to keep everybody interested, the high spade-in-the-hole splits the pot. If you’ve got the best hand and the high spade, you get it all. Any questions?”

  “Nope,” said Bart. “We’ve played this before.”

  Jason allowed the fifty-two cards to flow back and forth in his hands with hardly a sound. Expertly he cut, shuffled and cut the deck again before dealing. Every card landed exactly in front of each player.

  He picked up his own deal and realized that no one else had moved. “Something wrong?” he asked looking around the group.

  “Uhh—tell us about how you learned to do that,” said Sam. “I’m thinking we’re all mighty curious now.”

  Four men nodded along with his dad. Bart Quinn, Joe Cavelli, Rick “Chief” O’Brien and Lou Goodman. Jason had known them all his life. How much did he want to tell them?

  “After my money was gone—”

  “That was ten days after he left home,” Sam inserted.

  “—I got a job washing dishes on the Mississippi riverboats. Gambling boats. It was hot, awful work.” Jason paused, thinking back. “But I didn’t notice. I was like a robot—numb—just did what I was told. As long as they paid me in cash, I stayed.” He looked around the table at each man. “You’d think kitchen work would tire me out, but I couldn’t sleep. Maybe I dozed five minutes every so often, but I’ll tell you, I’ve seen the sun rise day after day over that big river. Never missed a morning. And I’d think, jeezez, I’ve got to get through another damned day.”

  He heard the anguish in his own voice, and it shocked him. A deep silence filled the room. Painful silence. No one at the table moved. Or seemed to breathe.

  Jason held up his cards. “Then I found these.” He shuffled his seven with precision. “And I practiced.” He wriggled his fingers. “I figured I probably had the hands for it.”

  Now the men nodded, and Jason picked up the tempo of his story. The spotlight was starting to feel hot.

  “I wound up dealing in the casinos in Louisiana for a time. But I didn’t like staying too long in one place.”

  “Why not?” asked Sam.

  “So we couldn’t track him.” The chief replied to his friend while giving Jason one of those slow once-over looks he was famous for. “You did a damn good job of not being found.”

  “It’s not that hard to disappear,” said Jason. “Easy to get fake IDs. But I was worried about private detectives.”

  “Your dad said no to hiring them,” replied Rick.

  A pang of hurt raced through him, but he erased all expression before glancing at Sam.

  “I trusted that you would come home when you were ready,” said his father. “Except sometimes we passed your picture around to Rick’s police-force friends in other cities.”

  “Matt went running to New York on more than one occasion, I can tell you that,” Rick added.

  His brother hadn’t said a word about it.

  “And Lila,” said Bart, “insisted on being told about everything we did.” The Realtor’s voice was softer than usual. “Those red roses were a beautiful gift, Jason. Beautiful.”

  Bart glanced at his cronies, before turning to Jason. “Now, that’s the right way to start courting a girl!”

  Jason’s ears felt as red as the roses. “Shall we play cards, gentlemen?”

  In five minutes, Jason knew that the only one with a true poker face was Rick O’Brien. Reasonable enough for a cop. He also realized that he hadn’t before sat at a table where people were having such a good time. He was having a good time himself, but it wasn’t only the cards. It was the company.

  For the first time since coming home, he finally felt that he was picking up where he’d left off.

  “Who wants a beer?” asked Bart, getting up from the table after collecting half the kitty.

  Jason stood. “Where’s our little helper?”

  “Look in there.” Bart nodded toward the living room.

  Jason stepped into the room, eyes zooming to the sofa where his daughter lay sleeping, her open book facedown on her chest. He tiptoed to her, gently removing the book and covering her with a blanket he found at the end of the couch.

  He inhaled her clean shampoo and little-girl scent, and marveled at the perfect, miraculous gift he’d received. A healthy, lovely and lovable child. He watched her little chest move up and down as she breathed, and found himself breathing along with her.

  Maybe he shouldn’t tempt fate. Or be greedy. Maybe Katie was enough of a gift. Maybe she was more than he deserved. After all, Adam Fielding seemed like a nice enough guy. Maybe Jason should let well enough alone. But…

  He’d think about it later. Now he returned to the table through the kitchen, bringing a can of soda from the fridge.

  “Nothing stronger?” asked Bart.

  “I’m fine,” said Jason.

  He felt his dad’s eyes on him, shining with approval. And scenes from the last few days shuffled in his memory until he was back at the cemetery telling Jared about his life. Sam had been there listening to everything he’d said. His dad knew about the binges, how he’d tried to erase all the pain with alcohol. Being blitzed sure felt better than being tortured by memories. Happy memories. Painful memories. Jared. His mom. Two years wasted in a stupor. And throughout all the years away, memories of Lila. The only memories with the power to bring calm to his soul.

  “Shall I carry her into her bedroom?” he asked, once again looking down at his daughter when the game folded at midnight.

  “Well, sure, boyo. You’re the dad, aren’t you?”

  “That I am, Bartholomew, but you’d better show me the way.”

  He carefully scooped Katie into his arms, but her eyes fluttered open. “Shh, honey. It’s all right.”

  She smiled. “My first daddy. Good.” Her eyes closed again.

  “I love you, Katie,” he whispered.

  “Me, too-o-o.” Her voice trailed away, and she slept. He carried her as though she were made of porcelain.

  He tucked her in, then joined Bart in the hall. “Sweet, isn’t she?” said the older man.

  “How can you ask? There’s n
o one sweeter.”

  “Not even her mother?”

  Jason said nothing until they reached the kitchen where his own dad waited. “Nothing has changed about the way I feel about Lila. But what happens next is between her and me.”

  “Jason.” His dad’s voice was raspy. “Don’t push her. Lila has shared Katie with us a hundred percent…and Lila’s not had it easy, either. So let her be. She’s met a nice guy. She’ll have a good life. And Katie will still be part of us.”

  “Sam, be quiet!” spoke Bart. “Your boy knows what he’s doing. He’s courting her, like he should. Starting with the flowers. He’s the one for Lila. Always was since they were babies, and you know it. I’ve lost count how many times Lila fought with her mother throughout the years every time Maggie tried to push her toward another man.”

  “Until she met Adam Fielding!” said Sam with vigor. “And that’s my point. Adam Fielding is special to her. Let her find happiness with him. Let well enough alone, Bartholomew.”

  The two old men stared at each other, each looking surprised, maybe a little shocked.

  Jason felt sick. His presence was causing conflict between two lifelong friends. Maybe he shouldn’t have come back to Pilgrim Cove.

  “You gave Matt such good advice when he was afraid to commit to Laura,” said Bart, first looking at Sam, then Jason. “She’d had the breast cancer, and your dad pushed Matt out of his shell shock into some good action. And now look at the lovebirds!” He turned once more to his friend. “You were so sure of yourself, Samuel. And you were dealing with life and death. Why are you holding back now?”

  Sam Parker poked his finger at the Realtor. “I’m not so in my dotage that I can’t tell the difference between two people madly in love with each other like Matt and Laura, and two people who aren’t. And that’s the difference here. If you don’t believe me, ask your granddaughter! And I’m done. Good night.”

  He walked straight to the front door, then turned. “Are you coming, Jason? I’m tired.”

  “Right away.” He glanced at Bart. “Don’t you dare ask Lila anything, or you’ll push her into a corner. I appreciate your support, but you’re sidelined now. Understand?”

  Bart pointed at Sam. “What about him?”

  “Dad? Are you kidding? I’m putting duct tape over his mouth.”

  He walked to the door, keys in his hand. “Come on, Dad. I’ll take you home.”

  He couldn’t blame Sam for speaking his mind. “So you were a pretty big Cupid for Matt and Laura, huh? I didn’t know that.”

  Sam opened the passenger door and got in. “Oh, pooh. A blind person could have seen how crazy they were about each other. I want you to be happy, too, Jason. But to be happy like your brother, the woman’s got to love you all the way. That’s all I was trying to say in there to that stubborn old geezer!”

  Jason got into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition key.

  “Lila’s not the sweet little girl you remember, Jason. She had to become a woman and a mother very quickly. A lot of responsibilities for a teen.”

  “She’s done a magnificent job,” said Jason quickly.

  “She certainly has. And while she was raising Katie, she learned that she could survive without you. She’s built a new life. Let her be.”

  Jason dropped his dad off and made his way along Beach Street back to Sea View House, glad he had his own place, away from the opinions and emotions aired so easily by everyone in his life. He’d caused a whirlwind by coming home. Home to small-town living where everyone knew each other’s business, and no anonymity existed at all.

  “Just buck up and swallow it,” he murmured, as he stood at the back porch railing staring at the ocean, enjoying his solitude.

  The moonlight glistened on the water and the ocean’s rhythmic movement sounded like a lullaby. A lullaby of the waves…of the wind. Of the sea. “A Lullaby for Katie.” “A Song for My Daughter.” One thought flowed into the next. One connection to another. A melody emerged. He entered the house and made a beeline for the piano.

  He finished at 5:00 a.m. and left his music sheets on the bench before staggering to bed. If his work sounded as good to him when he awoke as he thought it did now, he’d call his agent.

  HE WAS ALMOST AFRAID to play it again the next day. Had he really hit the mark, or had he been afflicted with maudlin madness in the middle of the night? His watch said eleven o’clock. He needed coffee. His stomach rumbled as he set the small pot to brew. Okay, he needed food, too, but he decided to take a shower first. Procrastinating. That’s what he was doing. He knew it, but he also knew he’d get to the piano when he ran out of excuses.

  Shower. Shampoo. Dry off. He pulled on a pair of soft worn jeans, grabbed a T-shirt from his drawer and padded to the kitchen. A mug. He needed a mug. Sea View House provided all the essentials including mugs. When he downed his first swallow, the world came into sharper focus. He slapped some cheese on bread and took it and his coffee onto the porch.

  The sun shone and the ocean still whispered. The vastness, the rhythm, the waves cresting over and over. He started to hum what he’d written the night before. Started to sing it softly with the ocean as backdrop. And he knew it worked. He’d tell the producer they needed to be at the water’s edge to record this one.

  He punched a number on his mobile. “I’ve got something, Mitch,” he said to his agent a minute later. “You might think I’m crazy, but I want to send it to Celine Dion’s agent.”

  “Do you know what time it is here?”

  Jason glanced at his watch. Ouch. “I keep forgetting.”

  The other man growled something.

  Jason remained unperturbed. “Why don’t you just rest back against your pillows and listen to some pretty music. It’ll relax you.”

  “Just a sec. Vivien’s going to listen, too. You’ll get a woman’s reaction. And besides, why should I be the only one in L.A. up at this hour on a Sunday?”

  “No reason at all, but I’m glad I’m three thousand miles away from her.”

  Vivien was really a peach, and she had good instincts. But Jason had no idea if she was a morning person or not. “Okay. I’m putting my cell phone right on top of the piano. It’ll have to do for now.”

  He played and sang his four verses of “A Song for My Child,” which told about the love of parents for their children. He tried to make the piano act as a full orchestra. He wanted this song to work.

  Three and a half minutes of becoming one with the music left him wrung out. Drops of perspiration dotted his face when the last refrain faded, and he actually felt weak. Slowly he reached for the mobile.

  “It’s beautiful.” The soft words came from behind him. He spun on the bench and saw the two females who made his life complete. Tears trickled down Lila’s cheeks. Katie was clutching her mother.

  He stood and walked toward them while speaking into the phone. “Well, Mitch?”

  “Vivien’s crying.”

  “So’s Lila.” He gently thumbed away her tears.

  “Lila?” His agent’s voice rose with interest. “The Lila?”

  “That’s right. The one and only Lila.”

  “Very interesting.”

  Jason didn’t comment, but Mitch didn’t seem to notice.

  “I’m going to call Dion’s agent and tell him to buy Luis’s CD! Then I’ll tell him you wrote this new song with Celine in mind.”

  “Good. I’ll cut a demo for her. There must be a sound studio in Boston I can rent for an hour. Just the eighty-eight keys and me.”

  “And me, too. I want to see a studio.” Katie was leaning against him, looking up, curious and eager. He leaned over and kissed her. “Good morning, Lady Katie.” Then turned his attention back to his agent.

  “I suppose you can ship a CD,” said Mitch. “But you’d be better off here.”

  Jason spoke into the phone, but his eyes never left Lila.

  “Mitch, listen carefully. From now on, my trips to the West Coast are business trips only.
I’m relocating here. My hometown.”

  He saw Lila swallow hard. Her eyes narrowed. “You’re really doing this?”

  “You bet I am.”

  “What?” Mitch shouted into his ear. “You’re not even gone a week. There’s nothing there. If it’s Lila—bring her to L.A. She’ll love it.”

  “She’d hate L.A.” He pointed at Lila.

  “Tell him everything,” she said through tightly drawn lips. “Whoever he is.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He spoke to Mitch again. “Settle down and listen.” He took a breath and winked at Katie. “I have a daughter. The most wonderful little girl you can imagine. And I’m staying right here. Congratulate me, Mitch, and congratulate yourself. You’re an honorary uncle!”

  He hung up with a promise to call later, and turned to Lila, who’d seated herself on the couch.

  “Didn’t you believe me when I said I’m moving back?”

  “You hadn’t defined ‘long, long time.’”

  He hoisted Katie into his arms. “But I bet you knew, didn’t you, sweetheart?”

  A big nod, up and down. “Yup. Daddy’s home again. Forever and ever.”

  He lowered Katie to the floor, then strolled to the sofa. He looked directly at Lila, whose lovely ivory skin had paled to milk-white. He waited a heartbeat before casually saying, “Since I only have Sea View House for a month, I’d really appreciate you lining up some properties for me to see.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  LIKE HELL SHE WOULD! He could live in a shack for all she cared. Lila glanced around the comfortable room, hoping for inspiration to strike.

  “Why don’t we extend the rental on Sea View House for the summer? Then you won’t have to rush into buying anything.” And maybe the novelty of living in Pilgrim Cove would fizzle out by Labor Day. And he’d leave town again.

  Rising from the couch, Lila began pointing out features of the house. “Look at these wonderful oak floors. Twelve-inch planks. People envy this kind of construction. Not to mention the brick fireplace running all the way to the ceiling. And your piano fits perfectly on that wall.” Babble, babble, babble. She heard the words pour out of her mouth and couldn’t stop before striding to the center hall, Jason a step behind her. She flung her arm toward the kitchen and back door.