“Well…” Danica said.
Blake kissed her cheek and stood. “I’m gonna check out the gift shop. I’ll meet you back at the hotel?”
“Sure.” She watched him lazily, sexily saunter away, his thick, muscular back swaying with each step, and her favorite pair of jeans hugging his—
“What are you, fifteen?”
Danica hadn’t realized she was licking her lips until Kaylie’s voice interrupted her thoughts. She snapped her attention back to Kaylie. “What?” Oh God. I’ve turned into one of those sex-crazed girls. She made a mental note to tame her libido. At least in public.
“You look at him like he’s a Chippendales dancer and you’re made of one-dollar bills.” Kaylie crinkled her nose, like she was disgusted at the thought.
“Don’t you look at Chaz like that sometimes?”
Kaylie shrugged. “I guess. But once you have kids, you kind of put all that stuff aside.”
Uh-oh. “Kaylie, now that the guys are gone, can we talk about Dad and Lacy? Just you and me?” She’d tried to bring up her father at least once each month since the twins were born, and each time, Kaylie had refused to discuss him. Danica had to try, just one last time.
“Why do you do this? Why do you feel the need to ruin a perfectly beautiful day? Isn’t it bad enough that he’s coming to the wedding?”
No need to beat me over the head with a stick. Lesson learned.
Chapter Two
Blake and Danica hashed out every scenario surrounding her father’s arrival, and in the elevator on their way to the lobby, her muscles were pinched so tight she could hardly breathe. She had little faith that Kaylie would actually show up, and even though she and her father had been exchanging emails, letters, and phone calls, she knew that seeing him in person might do all sorts of painful things to her mind and body. Was she dressed okay? What would he think of her? Should she have worn more makeup? Would he be upset with her for giving up her practice? He hadn’t seemed to be upset, but Danica knew that face-to-face meetings could bring out all sorts of emotions.
Blake took her hand as they crossed the lobby to the plush chairs beside the windows. “Relax. It’ll all be fine.”
She wished it were true, but she had known Kaylie too long to think tonight would be an easy reconciliation. She watched the elevator like a hawk. “She better get her butt down here.”
“She will. Don’t worry. It’s not like we’re going anywhere. We’re meeting him here, so even if she’s late, it’s okay.” Blake picked up a magazine and leafed through it.
Twenty minutes later, Kaylie still hadn’t come downstairs. Danica stood in her too-high heels and paced. She’d put on her favorite royal blue wrap-around dress, the one she felt most confident in. She’d tried to tame her mass of curly hair, which she’d cropped back to shoulder length after the twins were born so her niece and nephew would stop pulling at it, and it had freakishly obeyed. She’d won the battle of Afro versus curly chic, and still, her heart raced within her chest.
She thought she was ready to see her father again. Out of support for her mother and Kaylie—at least that’s what she told herself—she hadn’t seen him since he moved away. If I’m this nervous, Kaylie must be petrified. She opened her purse and pulled out her cell phone, texting Kaylie.
U coming?
Her phone vibrated a minute later. Not yet.
“Damn it, Kaylie,” she said under her breath. Her phone vibrated again. Ha-ha. Just joking. “She’s such a fool,” Danica said with a terse smile. She was glad to see Kaylie was in good spirits. Maybe that would bode well for their impending meeting.
At six thirty she texted her father’s cell phone. Ten minutes later, when he hadn’t responded yet, she texted Lacy. Where r u? Can’t wait to meet u! Her cell vibrated a few minutes later. Flight late. Stuck in immigration line. Go eat. Be there soon. A few seconds later it vibrated again. Me 2!!
“They’re going to be a while. Let’s get Kaylie and grab a bite.” She texted Kaylie as they headed for the restaurant. Meet us in restaurant. Dad’s gonna B late.
Kaylie and Chaz walked into the restaurant forty minutes later, bright-eyed and slightly flushed. Kaylie brushed her hair from her shoulders. Her black minidress accentuated every perfect curve of her body. She clung to Chaz’s arm like a groupie, looking up at him with something in her eyes that Danica didn’t recognize. It wasn’t just lust or love. It was a look that bordered on need.
Oh God, really, Kaylie?
“Sorry we’re late. We were—” She looked at Danica and winked. “Napping.”
“Napping, my ass,” Danica said, relieved to see that whatever strife had been present before seemed to have subsided. “Did you talk to Mom?”
“Yeah, the kids are great. She said they barely miss us.” She frowned as she sat in one of the cushioned dining chairs across from Chaz. “It feels so weird not to have them here. I kept expecting to hear Mommy! Daddy!”
“Not me. I was out like a light. I miss them, but whew.” Chaz shook his head. “I think I could sleep for a week and still not catch up.” He looked at Kaylie and smiled lazily. “Of course, she’ll have no part of my sleeping all day.”
“Oh stop.” Kaylie swatted him. “We have no time together, so I’m just gonna take advantage of the time we do have.”
They nibbled on appetizers and had a few drinks. A half hour later, Danica broached the subject of her father again. I’m a glutton for punishment.
“Dad’s so late. They must’ve been hung up in immigration.” She turned toward Kaylie with a serious gaze. “Are you gonna be civil tonight?” she asked.
“What do you think I am, a monster? Of course I’ll be civil.” Kaylie looked around the table for support.
Chaz’s eyes were trained on the stuffed mushroom at the end of his fork.
“Well, I’ll be civil,” Blake said. “I’m actually looking forward to meeting the man who raised two independent, beautiful women.”
How does he always know just what to say?
“That would be my mother,” Kaylie said.
“Kaylie, that’s not true. Dad was there the entire time we were growing up, and he was a good father, regardless of what he did to Mom.”
Kaylie downed her third drink. “Whatever. All I know is, everything I thought was true when we were growing up wasn’t true. I mean, he wasn’t on business trips; he was with her. And all those birthdays that girl and that woman had, you know he was with them instead of us then, too. So—”
She was right to some extent, but Danica’s therapist brain saw both sides of the argument, and she had no interest in starting World War III right then and there, in the midst of a lovely evening with a stunning view of the water.
“All I’m asking, Kaylie, is for you to be kind to them. Try to tolerate the situation without making snarky remarks and making everyone uncomfortable.”
Kaylie’s eyes were locked on the entrance to the restaurant. “Oh. My. God.”
An almost mirror image of Kaylie—tall, blond, with innocent baby blues—nervously fingered a black clutch purse as she scanned the restaurant. Her skin was the same fair shade, and the oval shape of her face was a replica of Kaylie’s, just a few years earlier. The familiar Snow long and lean legs ended in—Danica cringed—the same black sling-back heels that Kaylie had on her feet. The only difference between Kaylie and Lacy, as far as Danica could see, was the corkscrew curls tumbling to Lacy’s shoulders. While she possessed the body and face of Kaylie, she had Danica’s and their father’s kinky curls.
Her hopeful eyes landed on Danica’s and caught. And in that breath, so did Kaylie’s.
“Wait.” Kaylie’s eyes shot back and forth between the young girl who was headed directly toward them to her sister, who was now rising from her seat with a wide smile across her mulberry-colored lips and taking long strides toward the interloper.
Danica felt Kaylie’s stare piercing her back as she crossed the restaurant. The sight of Lacy there in the flesh, the siste
r she’d secretly longed to meet, caused her heart to increase in size, filling her chest. She opened her arms, and the blonde fell comfortably into them, like she’d always had a spot right there against Danica’s chest. Danica heard the competitive click of Kaylie’s heels as she approached from behind.
“Danica?” Kaylie tugged on her arm.
Danica reluctantly pulled away, holding on to Lacy’s forearms for just a beat longer. She wanted to hug Lacy even longer, but she was painfully aware of the hurt it would cause Kaylie. Over the months, their emails had shifted from cordial topics like work and hobbies to more intimate subjects, and eventually, they’d each slipped into the sisterly role of offering support and guidance. Guilt shrouded Danica like a woolen shawl, heavy and unmistakably present, as she realized that she’d shared things with Lacy that she’d never shared with Kaylie. What have I done? She didn’t have time to ponder the whys and hows of it all. Lacy already felt like a sister to her, someone she loved, and by the look on Kaylie’s face, Lacy was a living, breathing threat. A betrayal. Danica was quick to react to the brewing storm behind Kaylie’s stare.
“Kaylie, this is our sister, Lacy.” She regretted the words our sister as soon as they fell from her lips.
Kaylie feigned a smile, while Lacy’s warmth was true and real. Eye to eye, with the same shade of buttery blond hair and identical full, sensuous lips, their familial connection could not be denied.
Danica had warned Lacy before she came to Nassau that Kaylie might not be as welcoming as she might hope, but to wait it out, and surely Kaylie would come around.
Lacy opened her arms and leaned in toward Kaylie. “You’re even more beautiful in person,” she said sincerely.
Kaylie pulled out of reach and crossed her arms, her eyes darting back to Danica with a you’re in so much trouble look. “Nice to meet you.” Kaylie’s efforts at even the simplest of pleasantries were soiled by the tension surrounding her like a shield.
Danica knew all too well that she’d be in for the wrath of Kaylie later, but she had to save the moment. “How was your fl—”
“Lacy, so nice to meet you. I’m Blake.”
Danica hadn’t heard him approaching. She breathed a sigh of relief when Chaz appeared as well, both welcoming Lacy with warm hugs and kind words.
“Dad and Mo—my mom—should be here in a sec. They just wanted to get the room keys first.” Lacy dropped her eyes. “I wanted to come right in. I couldn’t wait to meet you in person. I’ve been waiting for so many years for this day.”
She looked from Danica to Kaylie, and for that quick little eye shift, that feigned indication that said she didn’t recognize Danica any more than she did Kaylie, Danica was thankful. Maybe Kaylie wouldn’t realize that they’d been in touch after all.
Please be nice. Please be nice. Danica prayed that somehow Kaylie would feel her vibe and make the evening a little easier.
As they sat around the large round table, Lacy waved toward the entrance. Her eyes lit up. “There they are.”
Danica held her breath. She hadn’t expected the tears that welled in her eyes or the force of the lump in her throat at the sight of her father. He’d gone gray around the temples and his thick hair had thinned. His shoulders and chest showed the thinning and loss of muscle that every year over fifty seemed to take with it. But there was no mistaking the underlying current of happiness in his dark eyes as he neared the table, one arm on the small of Madeline’s back. Danica stole a look at Kaylie, who had steeled herself against the table, her eyes silently screaming, Get me out of here!
Lacy, Danica, Blake, and Chaz all stood to greet their father and Madeline. Lacy took her father’s hand.
Her father. My father. Oh God, our father.
“Dad, Mom, this is Danica, Kaylie, Blake, and Chaz,” she said sweetly, then caught her own error. “Oh, sorry, Dad. You know Danica and Kaylie, but Mom doesn’t. Gosh, this is awkward.”
Dad. She called him Dad.
Kaylie still hadn’t moved from her seat or so much as lifted her eyes. She was falling apart right before Danica’s eyes, and Danica’s heart ached for her. She couldn’t just watch Kaylie cling to the table, her jaw clenching so hard she might break her teeth. Before greeting her father, and before greeting the woman who would be her stepmother, she went to Kaylie’s side and whispered in her ear, “Kay? You all right?”
Kaylie’s nod was so slight that had she not been watching her every movement, she would have missed it.
“Do you want to stand up?” Tears welled in Danica’s eyes, and she forced them back. Seeing her father for the first time in years brought memories, both good and bad, but seeing Kaylie struggling with the reunion was what made Danica’s emotions raw. If she allowed her own tears to fall, it would be that much more difficult for Kaylie to make it through the evening. She forced the lump in her throat to subside and put an arm around her sister, while Blake and Chaz came to their rescue, making a show of greeting their father and Madeline. Drawing the attention away from Kaylie.
Madeline’s hair was the same buttery shade as Lacy’s, framing her face in natural waves.
As Danica stood beside Kaylie, she watched Blake pull out a chair for Madeline. Great. She looks just like a short, heavy Blythe Danner. I love Blythe Danner. Damn it. She hadn’t expected to want to dislike Madeline as much as she did, but the loyalty to her mother and Kaylie—and even herself—was palpable. She surveyed Madeline, looking for something to dislike about her, beyond the obvious betrayal of her family. There was a kindness that lay behind Madeline’s nervous blue eyes as they flitted from person to person.
“Don?” Madeline reached for their father’s hand, then dropped her hand to her lap as she trailed the path of his gaze—a path thick with love, leading straight to Kaylie’s pained face.
“Kaylie.” His voice cracked, and a tear slipped unabashedly down his cheek.
Kaylie trembled in her seat.
“It’s okay, Kaylie.” Danica rubbed her back, then looked at her father and softened a smile. “She just needs a minute,” she said.
He nodded, but remained standing.
Sit down. Please sit down.
Didn’t he know that it was even more difficult for Kaylie when he was standing? That somehow he emitted a more familiar, fatherly presence while he stood?
Kaylie reached for Danica’s hand and squeezed. She nodded, sniffling back the tears that Danica knew she was praying wouldn’t actually fall. She kept nodding until she touched Danica’s hand with her other hand; then she looked into Danica’s eyes and nodded one emphatic final time before releasing her.
She let go.
She let go of my hand.
I’m alone.
Danica looked at her father, then back at Kaylie. She was alone on a tightrope, with the world far below. When had Kaylie become her safety net? When had she started needing her so much? Take a deep breath. Danica inhaled deeply and blew it out slowly. You can do this.
“Babe? You okay?”
Blake’s comforting voice broke the panicked spell. She managed to smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She touched Kaylie’s shoulder, more for her own comfort than Kaylie’s. Then Danica went to Madeline’s chair and extended her hand in a formal, awkward fashion. “I’m Danica. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
A shy smile pulled at Madeline’s pale pink lips. She covered Danica’s hand with her own, then whispered, “Thank you.”
Without any conscious thought, Danica scrutinized her, taking in her light flowing jacket, smart skirt and top to match. She wanted to draw comparisons between her mother and Madeline, to pull the pieces of Madeline apart, if only to protect the mother who raised her, but she stifled the urge. She’d spent enough years as a therapist to know the millions of ways marriages deteriorated and how little it took for a lonely person, or a person who felt as if they were being taken for granted—or even for a person who was simply too bored with their own life to function—to fall into the arms of another. Whatever happened between
their parents happened between them, and she knew that no matter how hard it might prove to be, she and Kaylie had no business judging either of them. They hadn’t been in their bedroom when things went wrong. They weren’t privy to the trials and tribulations of their marriage as it crumbled and deteriorated until there was nothing left. Even if this quiet woman had coerced their father into her bedroom, it was his choice to return, and in the end, his choice to leave his family and remain with her. She might have been holding the apple, but he was the one who took the bite and swallowed, letting his other family—their family—fall away.
With that acknowledgment circling her neck like a noose, Danica went to her father’s side, trying to keep that noose from strangling her efforts. The man who had taught her right from wrong and how to be a strong, secure person, the man who brought her a giant lollipop when she got her first period—as if that was even the slightest bit appropriate—this was the man she had once adored. Why, then, when she looked at him now did bile rise in her throat?
She bit back the desire to tell him how awful he’d been by leaving their mother—and her and Kaylie. She squelched the words that vied to spew forth: bastard, cheater, liar, thief. She reluctantly eased out of the protective armor that she’d carefully formed around her and Kaylie like a cocoon and gave in to her tears.
“Dad. I’ve missed you.” She couldn’t breathe, could barely think as she returned to her seat beside Blake. He took her hand and held it tight, and finally, after what felt like a lifetime had passed in the previous three minutes, Danica was right back where she belonged. She let out a loud breath and felt the armor slowly slipping back into place.
Chapter Three
Danica had been lying awake since the wee hours of the morning, worrying about Kaylie. She’d been silent during dinner, tossing a feigned smile here and there and answering their father’s questions in clipped, terse snippets. She hardly looked at Lacy, who’d been sweet and kind to everyone and so very protective of their father and Madeline. Want some butter, Dad? Mom, is your dinner okay? What must it have been like for Lacy growing up? Danica knew from their emails that Lacy had grown up knowing she had two sisters whom she’d one day meet, but what would that feel like? Danica wondered. And at twenty-six years old, how did it feel to know you were the product of an affair? How brave do you have to be to face the family that you’ve been dying to meet, knowing they weren’t really yours to claim?
Sisters in White Page 2