Keeping Faith

by Janice Macdonald

  Hannah felt her pulse kick up a notch. The thought had occurred to her, but she didn’t want to discuss it with her mother. If Liam chose not to support his daughter, it was probably because he didn’t really feel he had a daughter and so felt no obligation. She could tell herself this, but Margaret’s question brought all the disappointment and simmering anger to the surface. Anger at Liam, at her mother, at herself for being taken in, once again, by Liam.

  “No, Mom, he didn’t say anything about it,” she snapped. “Maybe he would have though, if he hadn’t been cheated out of the first six years of Faith’s life.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake.” Margaret dismissed Hannah’s comment with a wave of her hand. “How many times are we going to play this same refrain? Okay, maybe I should have handled things differently, but I didn’t. Get over it. It’s time for everyone to accept what happened and move on. Liam knows he has a daughter now. What he does about it is his decision.” She wrapped aluminum foil around a plate of sliced tomatoes and set the plate in the fridge. “Does he want to see her again?”

  “No.”

  “Just no?”

  “He didn’t say anything, Mom. He just left. So, you can breathe easy again.”

  Margaret turned to glare at her. Arms folded across her chest, blue eyes bright with anger. “Sure, blame me for Liam’s irresponsibility. What is it with you and Deb? Has she been giving you lessons in hostility? I’m tired of the two of you making me the enemy. How should I react to Liam? First he says he doesn’t want to see Faith. Then he just shows up. And then he just leaves again. Who knows what the hell he’s thinking?”

  “Maybe he’s confused about things,” Hannah said. “Maybe it isn’t so easy for him to just move on and forget the six years he spent believing he didn’t have a daughter.”

  Margaret shook her head. “Hannah,” she said softly.

  “What?”

  “That’s you, isn’t it? Always giving him the benefit of the doubt. In your book it’s poor Liam, the injured party.” She refilled her wineglass. “I worry about you, Hannah, I really do. One of these days you’re going to have to stop making excuses for other people’s failings and start paying attention to your own feelings.”

  Hannah opened her mouth to speak, then stopped. Her heart thundering, she picked up the saltshaker. Studied the grains crusted around the chrome top as she thought about all the things she couldn’t bring herself to say to her mother.

  But maybe Margaret was right. Maybe it was time for Hannah to focus on her own needs and stop accommodating everyone else’s. For starters, she should stop going to singles dances with Rose just because Rose didn’t like to go alone. And she should stop worrying that Helen’s feelings would be hurt if she quit her job at La Petite Ecole. And maybe she should stop running interference between Margaret and Deb. And, on the subject of Margaret, she should find a place for herself and Faith and stop worrying that her mother would drink herself into a stupor as a result. And Liam. She needed to know Liam’s intentions regarding Faith. Either he wanted to be a part of his daughter’s life, or he didn’t. And if the latter, she didn’t want to hear another word from him.

  “I’M DEPRESSED.” Brid stared gloomily into her glass of beer. “God, but he was a lovely man. And I thought he liked me, too.”

  Liam watched the play of sunlight on the water. They were sitting in green plastic chairs on the outdoor patio of Belmont Shore Brewery where they’d driven, although it was just at the bottom of Hannah’s road, after the party. At the next table, a middle-aged couple was discussing the price of real estate in California. Shot through the roof in the past year, one of them said. Astronomical, the other agreed.

  Brid grinned. “I mean, I was all but working out the colors the bridesmaids would wear. D’you think maybe he’s gay? That could explain it.”

  “He has something going with Hannah,” Liam said.

  Brid gave him a skeptical look. “She told you that?”

  “Not in so many words,” Liam said.

  “How do you feel about that?” Brid asked.

  “It’s her life.”

  She kept watching him. “I can’t tell whether it bothers you or not. You’re a difficult read, Liam.”

  “Probably because there’s nothing there to read.”

  “So how was it? Seeing your little girl?”

  “Strange. I told Hannah that. Good, but strange.”

  “And now you’ve seen her,” Brid said. “What’s next?”

  “I don’t know.” He drank some beer. “I watched her today. The way Hannah’s bringing her up…it’s everything she needs, really. Loving family, all the material things, a stable life. It’s the way Hannah grew up, but it couldn’t be more different from what I had as a boy. What do I have to give her?”

  “You’re her father, Liam. That’s enough. If every father wondered what he had to give before he made a commitment to his child, there would be a lot fewer fathers around, believe me.”

  “Hannah will get married again and whoever she marries will probably do a better job of being a father to Faith than I ever could.”

  Brid looked at him. “So drop it then.”

  “I should.”

  “What’s stopping you?”

  He shrugged, but had no answer to her question. “I’d want to be a good father,” he said after a moment. “Not just someone who sends a birthday card and presents at Christmas. But if I can’t be the kind of father I’d like to have had myself, I might as well walk away.”

  “Liam.” Brid put her elbows on the table and looked into his eyes. “Let’s back up a bit. You’re on tour eight months out of the year, and when you’re not touring you’re recording. You live and breathe your music. Tell me how you’d find the time to be a good daddy to your daughter.”

  He shook his head. He didn’t know.

  “You need to make a choice, Liam. Right now, the band is the most important thing in your life. If you choose to keep it that way, then I’d say let Hannah find a new father for her daughter, because there’s no way you can fill the role. But if you don’t, if you really want to be the kind of father you’re talking about, then you need to have a long talk with Hannah.”

  ALTHOUGH MARGARET HAD ADVISED Hannah to pay attention to her feelings, she’d still been furious when Hannah opted out of dinner at Kelly’s. But, as Hannah had pointed out, if her mother had consulted her before making the arrangements, she would have told Margaret that what she really wanted after the party was a quiet evening to herself. Which is exactly what she was having when Liam knocked on the front door.

  “Liam.” She raised a hand to her hair, which she’d scraped up into a scruffy ponytail after removing all her makeup. She’d also pulled on a pair of faded black leggings with a hole in the seam, an old red flannel shirt that had been her father’s and fleecy gray socks. Her comfort clothes. “What…what’s up?”

  “I wanted to talk to you,” he said.

  She hesitated a moment, then motioned for him to come in. “Everybody’s gone out to dinner. Faith included.” She led him into the living room where he stood, arms folded across his chest, his expression hard to read.

  “Have a seat.” She moved the day’s newspaper from the sofa, but he remained standing. He’d worn a tie with a gray cotton shirt to the party. The tie was gone now, the shirt opened at the neck, a leather jacket over it. It occurred to her that she couldn’t remember seeing Liam in a tie and the thought of him putting one on for his daughter’s birthday party tugged at her heart. She had a sudden urge to touch him.

  “Want something to drink?” she asked instead. “Beer, wine, soda? I’m having chamomile tea, myself.”

  “A beer would be fine.” He followed her into the kitchen, stood with his back against the counter, watching as she moved around.

  “Did Faith enjoy her party?”

  “She had a great time.” Hannah opened the refrigerator. “Bud or Miller.”

  “Either.”

  She opened a Miller. �
��You didn’t stay to see her open her presents,” she said as she handed him a bottle.

  “I know…your mother coming into the kitchen threw me off track a bit. I’d been about to suggest we take Faith to the zoo. I’ve heard there’s a great one in San Diego.” He opened the beer, drank some. “I thought tomorrow, if you were free.”

  Hannah had set a glass down for him, but she returned it to the shelf when she saw him take a swig from the bottle. “Why, Liam? What’s the point?”

  “I’d like to spend some time with my daughter.”

  “You’d like it. What about Faith?”

  “It’s been a long time since I was a child, but I think I would have been thrilled at the chance for a day at the zoo.”

  “What do we tell her about who you are?”

  “We don’t have to tell her anything. Tell her I’m a friend from Ireland. What’s wrong with that?”

  Hannah microwaved a cup of tea. What was wrong with that? Faith would certainly enjoy a day at the zoo. She’d been clamoring to go ever since she’d seen the baby koalas on TV. The microwave pinged and she removed her cup.

  “So you take her to the zoo—”

  “We take her to the zoo.”

  “Okay, we take her.” Her face felt hot. We. Don’t read anything into it. “What then?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She looked at him.

  “I don’t know, Hannah. I can’t give you a definite answer. I’m still sorting things out. I just know that I can’t walk away and pretend she doesn’t exist.” He picked up a copy of Cosmopolitan that Rose had left on the table, glanced at the cover and set it down again. “I want to start paying toward Faith’s support, no matter whether I’m involved in her life or not,” he said. “We can set that up later.”

  She nodded, her mind still on the zoo. “I just don’t think taking her out for the day is a good idea,” she said. “Even if we don’t tell her who you are, she’ll be curious. Kids pick up vibes. It could be unsettling for her.”

  “It isn’t my fault she doesn’t know me,” Liam said.

  “I know that.”

  “Your mother didn’t look happy to see me.”

  “She wasn’t.”

  “She’s lucky I didn’t tell her exactly what I thought of her little ruse. I would have, except I didn’t want to spoil Faith’s birthday party.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

  “But I still deserve the chance to spend a little time with Faith. No matter how your family feels about me.”

  Hannah felt herself wavering.

  “If it weren’t for your mother’s intervention, we might still be together.”

  She waited a moment before she spoke, disconcerted by the possibility that Liam might actually regret their divorce. Somehow, she’d always imagined him emotionally unscathed.

  “There’s not much point in that kind of speculation, Liam,” she said finally. “We were young and we hardly knew each other before we got married. Add that to all the time you spend on the road, and it’s pretty much a recipe for failure, regardless of what my family did.”

  “What’s the situation with you and the pirate’s dad? Are the two of you…?”

  She shrugged, leaving the interpretation up to him. “Allan’s a sweet guy.”

  Liam smiled.

  “What?”

  “Sweet guys are seldom the love of anyone’s life.”

  Hannah eyed him for a moment. “You know that from personal experience?”

  He grinned.

  Flustered, she quickly drank the cup of lukewarm tea, dumped the bag in the trash and ran water into the mug. “Sometimes we settle for strength and stability over excitement and romance,” she said, realizing that she sounded exactly like her aunt Helen. Damn it, Liam. Go away, you’re confusing me. She turned to see him studying her. He held her glance until she looked away.

  “Okay, I know that didn’t come out right,” she said. “I didn’t mean ‘settle.’ What I’m trying to say is I’m happy with my life. I don’t need a whole bunch of ups and downs, I’m perfectly content with…a more even pace.”

  “Except you’d rather be doing landscaping than teaching nursery school.”

  “Well, yes, that.”

  “And will Allan be a part of this even pace?”

  “I don’t know that yet. Maybe.” A moment passed. “What about you?”

  “No one. Is that what you’re asking?”

  She nodded. “Your singer?”

  He laughed.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. For some reason, I thought you’d be the exception. Everyone suspects Brid and I have something going. The papers have had a field day with our supposed romance. We’re the best of friends and that’s it.”

  “Oh.” For some reason, the knowledge that there was no one in Liam’s life gave her a little charge. They stood for a moment, faint sounds filtering into the silence between them. The hum of the refrigerator, a car driving by. She imagined herself with Liam and Faith driving down to San Diego for a day at the zoo. She’d pack a picnic. Maybe they’d take the coast route. And the zoo really was terrific. She could almost feel it, the sun warm on their backs as they made their way up the hill to the exhibits. Faith between them, holding their hands.

  She searched for a reason to say no. And came up empty. Faith would be thrilled. But Faith wasn’t really the issue. Faith had come along on a couple of dates before and had taken it all in stride. Her hesitation was for herself. Right now, standing here in the kitchen with Liam; watching his face, hearing his voice, his laugh. She could fall in love with him all over again. And she would if they spent any time at all together. And then, when it ended badly, as it almost inevitably would, she’d have to start the rebuilding all over again. Was it really worth the risk?

  “What time tomorrow?” she asked.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  HANNAH AWAKENED around midnight to someone knocking on her bedroom door. She heard Rose call her name, the door opened a little and Rose stuck her head around it.

  “You sleeping, sweetie?” she called.

  “Not anymore.” Hannah sat up in bed and flipped on the bedside lamp. “What’s wrong?”

  “Your mom.” Rose sat down on the edge of the bed. She wore a leopard-skin print velour robe and her red hair was done up in a yellow banana clip. “I wanted to wait until she was asleep before I talked to you. Hannah…” Rose leaned a little closer, dropped her voice, clutched Hannah’s arm. “Your mother broke down at Kelly’s tonight.”

  Hannah looked at her aunt. Rose’s hectic color and fruity breath suggested she’d had a few drinks; her breathless, exclamatory manner confirmed it. Rose had a way of conveying news that a glass or two of wine served to exaggerate. Sentences sprinkled with moments of prolonged eye contact as though she were waiting for the full import of whatever she’d said to sink in. Lots of touching. Deb did a wicked imitation of how a tipsy Rose could make the most banal pronouncement sound dramatic. Hannah, the grass grows a little bit every day. Deb would clutch Hannah’s arm, stare into her eyes. Every day, Hannah! Can you believe it?

  Still groggy from sleep, Hannah leaned her head back against the pillow. “What do you mean, she broke down?”

  “I mean she broke down, Hannah.” Rose engaged Hannah’s eyes. “Right in the middle of dinner. She didn’t even touch her filet. And she loves the way Kelly’s does filets. They are so delicious.” She licked her lips as though the taste still lingered. “Allan was wonderful with her, Hannah. He is such a prince. Why didn’t you come? He was so disappointed.”

  “Yeah, I know, he called me. So tell me about Mom.”

  “Well, I ordered a carafe of burgundy.” Rose smiled. “Allan took one sip of it and you’d have thought it was poison or something. He’s just used to better quality, Hannah. You can tell that just by looking at him. Anyway, he orders this Chateau Neuf de something or other. Forty bucks a bottle. I saw it on the wine list. Forty dollars! I mean, it was good, but f
orty bucks for wine?”

  “What about Mom, Rose?”

  “That’s what I was getting to. Well, we all had some of the wine Allan ordered, but then your mom also polished off the burgundy. The whole carafe, Hannah.”

  “I know…” Hannah picked at a cuticle, to avoid eye contact with her aunt. “She’s drinking too much. I’m going to have to talk to her.”

  “She is drinking way too much,” Rose agreed. “Way too much. We were all talking so I didn’t really notice how much she was drinking but then she started getting weepy. She thinks she’s losing you and Faith, Hannah. And Deb, too, and she doesn’t know what to do about it. She was hysterical, Hannah. Sobbing, mascara running down her face.”

  Hannah drew a deep breath. She had the clear sensation of a very large glass dome being placed over her head, a feeling she’d been getting quite often lately. “Deb’s broken up with Dennis and moved back home,” she said after a moment. “Why would Mom think she’s losing her?”

  “Because Deb’s decided she’s not moving back after all. She had a little tiff with your mom this morning and now she says she’s going to move in with a girlfriend. Hannah, your mother was so excited about having another grandbaby—”

  “Deb’s not going to have the baby?”

  Rose sighed. “That seems to be up in the air, too.” She looked at Hannah for a moment. “You hungry?”

  “Not particularly.” She glanced at the clock by the bed. “It’s after twelve, Rose.”

  “You know what I’d like? Mashed potatoes.”

  “Mashed potatoes?”

  “Mmm-mm. Yummy mashed potatoes. With bacon bits, Hannah.” Rose pulled back the quilt on Hannah’s bed. “Come downstairs and talk to me while I make some.”

  “Rose…”

  “I’ll put sour cream in them.”

  “I don’t want to eat mashed potatoes at midnight, I don’t care what you put in them.”

  “Chives and cream cheese,” Rose said in a wheedling voice. “Come on, Hannie, do it for your old auntie. What joy do I have in my life?”