One of a Kind Dad

by Daly Thompson

  But she was his employee. He’d practically coerced her into taking this job, and to make a sexual approach to her would violate every principle of an honorable employer/employee relationship. Not only that, but an affair wasn’t what he wanted at this point in his life. He was pretty happy. His life was stable.

  Someday, maybe, he’d be ready for love of the romantic kind, but he could never “take a chance on love.” He had to have certainty. He’d have to trust the woman completely. Rejection, betrayal, could destroy him.

  He had no clue as to what went on inside Lilah or what her life story was, what had driven such a valuable woman into the situation in which he’d found her. Until he learned the answers to those questions, there was no certainty, and he needed those things more than he needed love—or even sex.

  He sighed. His libido, so long suppressed, had inexplicably sabotaged his good judgment. What he really wanted was simply to have her working for him.

  That was his story and he was sticking to it.

  The coffeepot seemed to take forever. He focused on the bouquet in the middle of the kitchen table—his Siberian Irises had just started blooming and Lilah had stuck some of them in here and there with more of the snowball heads. It looked pretty, even on the same old tablecloth. That hadn’t changed. Even she knew cloth covers would be a laundry disaster.

  Maybe he’d just confused flowers and a neat living room with stability.

  When at last the coffee seemed to be ready, he spilled it all over the counter, because he was trying to pour it as fast as he could. One more minute of worry that he was getting too close to her might have led to heart failure. Arrhythmia, anyway. He had to keep her at arm’s length—literally.

  Before he could carry the cups into the living room, Lilah appeared in the kitchen with a sheaf of copy paper in her hand and a look of intense concentration on her face. “The slides of the financial stuff aren’t exactly gripping,” she said, sitting down at the kitchen table, “so I was thinking zippier graphics might perk them up. Catchy fonts, larger, too, lots of color, bullets and arrows. Here. Look at this. It’s just a rough plan of how the pages might be laid out.”

  He put the coffee on the table and sat, amused by her seriousness but feeling his senses tingle, coming back to life after years of numbness. She handed him several sheets of paper.

  “You could put the same material in a handout that they could take home with them.”

  He grinned at her. “Maybe we should skip the housekeeping and hire you as public relations officer for the center.”

  “Oh, no, these are just some ideas…”

  He felt confident enough to tease her. “Think about it. We’d send out a press release, “Lilah Jamison has accepted the position of…”

  “No press release.” She snapped it at him. “No newspapers.” She must have seen how she’d startled him, because her mouth twisted in a rueful smile. “Sorry. I overreacted. I’m just averse to publicity, always have been.” She sighed. “My mother always said your name should never be in the newspaper except at birth and death. I guess it sank in.”

  He gazed at her, then relaxed, just as she had done, and said, “She must have been a real lady. Tell me about her.”

  He saw her tense up again. “Oh, she’s just a mom,” she said lightly. “A working mom. My dad’s an auto mechanic. We were poor but happy, as the saying goes.”

  She’d obviously ended that conversational thread. He gave up—for the moment—on trying to glean a scrap of personal information from her. “Okay, let’s look at those sketches of yours. Do you do computer graphics?”

  She gazed at him, and it was as if a veil dropped over her face, and when she spoke, she sounded bitter. “I do very compelling computer graphics.”

  Lilah had a secret. Until he knew the secret, he wouldn’t know her, and he couldn’t trust her completely. With the boys, yes, but not with his heart.

  LILAH SAID GOOD-NIGHT TO Daniel as soon as she could. When she reached her apartment, she fell across the bed and buried her face in the pillows.

  She had done the fliers for Bruce’s nonexistent housing development. She’d learned to keep his books, and then she’d had to learn how to do computer graphics. She’d found it fun, much more fun than spreadsheets. He’d handed her blueprints and sketches of finished houses, and she’d scanned, reduced, enlarged and cropped to make the envelope of promotional material as appealing to potential purchasers as possible. She didn’t know he’d simply bought the blueprints from a home-building magazine.

  She’d had no idea she was facilitating his scam, but still she felt guilty for making such a good case for North Woods, the development that would never be built.

  What had shaken her this evening was the memory of Bruce commanding her to learn how to do the graphics and produce the materials. He’d said, “I support you, so you’ll damned well do what I want you to do with your time.”

  What she’d said to Daniel was, “I’m full-time, so I’ll do whatever you want me to do with that time.” Which meant the same thing. And when she’d heard the words spilling out of her mouth, she’d felt sick.

  But Daniel wasn’t like Bruce. He hadn’t commanded her, he’d asked her. The center must be real, although she’d had a moment of worry as he talked about asking for donations to build it.

  She needed to put her life with Bruce behind her. And she’d thought she had—until she found herself in close contact with a man who could just as easily rob her of her independence, even though he’d do it nicely, make her think dependence was just what she wanted.

  But she couldn’t spend her life looking for similarities to Bruce in every man she met. She had to get over it.

  AT BREAKFAST THE NEXT morning, Jason and Maury slipped envelopes into Daniel’s hand. Surprised by the gesture, he found an excuse to leave the room in order to see what was inside.

  The note from Maury read,

  Dear Daniel: Thank you so much for my car. I promise to be careful driving it. I’ll keep it clean and try to get the best gas mileage I can. I can’t wait until my birthday when I can drive it by myself, but I like it when you’re in the front seat, Jesse and Lilah, too. So anytime you want to ride with me is fine. Your friend, Maury.

  Daniel smiled. He was touched by Maury’s note. He was a great kid. Maybe he’d never be a great poet, but he didn’t need to be because he’d be a great cook.

  Next, he opened Jason’s letter.

  Dear Daniel: I want to say some things I can’t say to your face. You changed my life. When I came here, I was so mad I wanted to make things as hard for everyone around me as I could. Now I can’t even remember how it felt to be that mad. You made me know I could trust you. You acted like you liked me, so I started to think maybe other people could like me, too. I found out they do, and everything in my life feels different.

  When you gave Maury and me these cars, it meant you trusted me. I don’t ever want to let you down. You are too good a man for anybody to let you down. Thank you for the car, for making me feel this way, and for being the greatest person I’ve ever known. Jason.

  Daniel read the note, then read it again. His eyes stung. This might be his finest moment. Building the foster-care center would pale in comparison.

  When he felt in control, he went back to the kitchen, where the boys were talking about Harry Potter’s latest adventure over stacks of French toast. Jason and Maury were sitting side by side, and he paused between them, ruffling their hair. “Thanks,” he whispered.

  It was enough. Maury blushed, and Jason looked up at him. Daniel tried to transmit, without words, the message, You’re special to me. I love you as if you were my own sons.

  He saw Lilah across the table, taking in the scene, her facial expression ever-changing, as if she were wondering how the boys’ notes had affected him. He had no doubt that writing the notes had been her idea, but the words had come straight from the boys’ hearts.

  And had gone straight to his.

  “I THINK WE�
�VE GOT Jason’s party together,” Jesse said. “I’m off to take a shower before he and Daniel get home.”

  “Good plan,” Lilah said. “I’ll make a cup of tea and keep an eye on the scalloped potatoes.”

  “Call me if they get home with good news,” Jesse said as he limped out of the room. “I’ll come out stark naked to congratulate Jason if I have to.”

  “I’d love it if you didn’t,” Lilah said.

  She went to the window and rested her forehead against the cool glass. This was such a big day for Jason. His sixteenth birthday, and he would get his Junior Operator’s License if he passed the test. They were blowing it all out for his party, and he’d invited five friends, four of them kids who were in and out of the house all the time and wouldn’t run screaming from the noise and general confusion. Lilah had her fingers crossed for the fifth one. She smiled. He’d pass the test. His party would be a victory celebration.

  “Mom?”

  She whirled. “Jonathan! You scared me. I guess I was daydreaming. How’re you doing, sweetie? Pretty big day, huh?”

  “Yeah. Mom, where do you think Dad is?”

  She led him to the kitchen table and sat down across from him. “I don’t know,” she said, wanting to be honest. “I know he’s out of prison, and I know he told a reporter he wanted to be with us again, but that’s all.”

  “Do you want to be with him again?”

  What had brought on his anxiety? “No,” she said. Then, dreading the answer, she asked, “Do you miss him?”

  “Uh-uh. No way.”

  His head was downcast, and his sneakers kicked the chair stretchers. “Honey, what’s worrying you?”

  He answered with another question. “Are you happy here?”

  “Why, yes,” she said, realizing it was true. “And you are, too, I think.”

  He raised his head and his face brightened. “Oh, yeah. I have kids to play with all the time, and everybody’s nice, and you’re right here when I need you.”

  “So what’s the problem?” She smiled at him.

  “I’m scared he’ll find us, and we’ll have to run away again.”

  Her smile faded. She leaned back in the chair, then was suddenly filled with resolve. “Maybe we won’t run away anymore, Jonathan. Maybe we’re ready to stand up for ourselves.”

  “They’re home!” Will shrieked. His yell rattled the windows. Jonathan was up and running, his worry temporarily forgotten in the excitement of finding out if Jason had passed the test. Looking out the window again, seeing Daniel standing beside Jason, who seemed even taller now, both of them trying to look casual and failing to, she knew it was a victorious homecoming.

  Her gaze went to Daniel and lingered there. He wore chinos with a white polo shirt. She smiled. She’d already washed that shirt half a dozen times. It must be a favorite of his. Or maybe it was just the shirt on top of the stack.

  Even this early in the summer, his arms were browned by the sun, his nose sunburned. His sun-streaked hair was windblown from the ride in the sports car. He started toward the house and Lilah watched his easy, ambling gait, graceful and confident, never hurried. Nick and Jonathan clung to him, and as she watched, he captured each one in the crook of an arm, picked them up and swung them around in the air.

  He was an amazing man. She wished…

  She sighed. If wishes were horses…

  She bolted through the kitchen door and headed for the celebration, wanting to be a part of it as much as Jonathan did.

  Or did she just want to be closer to Daniel.

  “AS SOON AS JASON’S friends get here we’re ready,” Lilah said, wiping her hands on her apron—Jesse’s apron, actually.

  “They’d better hurry,” Jesse groused. “Will’s gonna eat the dog if they don’t turn up soon.”

  “A car’s pulling into the drive right now,” Daniel said from the hallway. “I’ll call Jason.”

  “He’s already outside,” Jesse said.

  Daniel joined Lilah at the window, watching four kids spill out of a van belonging to Ray Waller, Jeff’s dad. “I thought Jason said five friends. I only see four.”

  “Somebody got sick, I imagine,” Lilah said. “What a shame.”

  “Or lives close enough to walk.” Daniel watched as Jason reached the car and saw him engage in serious conversation with Jeff and his dad. “Looks like ‘sick and can’t come,’” he said. “Jason looks too serious for a birthday boy.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on him,” Lilah said.

  An image butterflied through Daniel’s mind, of Lilah hugging Jason when they got home, and Jason letting her.

  And then he saw another image. When the whole crew had come back, he’d caught her eye, and the impact of that look of shared emotion—Jason’s happy, you’re happy, and that makes me happy—had made his pulse race.

  But, then, it had been an emotional day.

  The avalanche hit the kitchen, Daniel’s boys, Jason’s friends, and Aengus in the midst of them. The party had begun.

  “DOWN!” DANIEL SPED TOWARD the kitchen counter where the cake was on display, and moved Aengus’s paws from directly in front of it. “Dogs eat steak, not cake,” he told his pet.

  The dog had the good grace to look faintly ashamed before he loped away in search of dinner leftovers on the picnic tables outside.

  Daniel took a close look at the cake. A yellow sports car, and a darned good replica of one, too, except that it sat a lot lower and looked a lot longer than Jason’s car, because you needed a lot of cake to feed this bunch. Lilah had artistic skills, that was for sure. And the way the presentation visuals were shaping up was…

  “Daniel.”

  He jumped. Lilah had sneaked up behind him, and the breathy way she said his name made him shiver. Instead of turning, afraid of what she might see on his face, he continued to gaze at the cake.

  “I’m afraid you’re right. Everybody’s having a great time except Jason.”

  He turned to face her. “Because of the guest who couldn’t come, you think? Maybe a girl he’s interested in stood him up.” He sighed. “I’ll talk to him.”

  “HER FATHER WOULDN’T LET her come.”

  Jason had come to him. Daniel hadn’t had to corner him to find out why Melissa hadn’t come to the party. That was the only positive note in the situation. Jason’s shoulders drooped, and his face was downcast. Aengus put his head on Jason’s knee and he rubbed the dog behind the ears.

  “Why?” Daniel asked him. “She’s too young? Not allowed to date yet?”

  Jason stood up, angry now instead of dejected. “Not allowed to go out with me. Her father won’t let her go out with anybody unless he knows the family.”

  “I’m your family,” Daniel said, unable to control the tensing of the muscles in his face.

  “Try telling him that. Jeff’s dad tried when they went to pick her up. He was really mad when he got back to the car.”

  A range of feelings shot through Daniel, empathy for Jason, and the feeling he feared most, absolute, consuming fury at a man who mistrusted a boy just because he was in a foster home. It was the only reason the man could have had. Jason was an excellent student, skillful at basketball and soccer. Whoever this father was, he should be proud Jason had shown an interest in his daughter.

  He had to hide his rage from the boy, keep his voice down and his fists from clenching. “What’s Melissa’s last name?”

  “Wilcox.”

  Daniel sighed. “Oh, boy. That is really too bad.”

  Jason’s eyes asked a question.

  “Ed Wilcox is a dairy farmer. He’s one of the most vocal opponents of the foster-care center, so he’s not too fond of me. Besides that, he’s a skinflint, never gives to any cause, doesn’t even take proper care of his cows. He’s negative about everything, Jason. It’s not you, it’s just the way Ed is.”

  “But he’s Melissa’s father, and she’s the nicest girl in the whole school,” Jason protested.

  “It happens sometimes,” Dan
iel said.

  “It wasn’t her fault it happened.” A suspicious moisture glazed Jason’s eyes, and his body drooped. “She’d already asked her mother, her mother said yes, then her father wanted to know who she was going out with and freaked. She feels really bad. She says we can still see each other at school. She’s not the kind of girl who’d sneak off on a date.”

  “Which is one of the reasons you like her. I’m so sorry, Jason,” Daniel said. “I could have a talk with Ed, but I don’t want to make things worse.”

  “They couldn’t be any worse.” Suddenly Jason straightened his shoulders and rose. “It was a great party, Daniel. Aengus and I are going up to bed. I’ll talk it over with Maury.”

  He paused at the door. “You can tell Lilah and Jesse,” he said. “I don’t want them to think I didn’t like the party.”

  Daniel joined him in the doorway and put his hand on Jason’s shoulder. “You’re a fine person, Jason. Don’t let one man make you think you’re not.”

  “Thanks.” Jason gave him a crooked smile. “Lilah makes a heck of a car cake, doesn’t she?”

  Lilah was a heck of a woman. Maybe she could help him decide what to do about Ed Wilcox.

  Chapter Eight

  “That horrible man,” Lilah said. Her eyes flashed dangerously. “He’s closed-minded, disrespectful of his daughter’s judgment…”

  “And bad to his cows,” Daniel said gloomily.

  The flashing eyes landed on him. “From anybody else, I’d think that was a joke,” she said.

  “Well, not from me. He’s a bad man all around.”

  “He must have some good in him,” she protested. “Everybody does.”

  “You find it. I can’t. He’s as stingy with his goodwill toward man as he is with his money.”

  “All right, I will.” She simmered for a few minutes.

  “He’s dead set against the center, for the same reasons he’s dead set against Jason dating his daughter. He and Virginia Galloway are our most formidable opponents, I think. Virginia can influence churchwomen all over the valley, and Ed, believe it or not, has somehow established himself in the Dairy Farmers’ Association.”