She stiffened at that and the last faint hint of laughter in her eyes died. “Don’t do this, Caleb,” she pleaded. “Don’t spoil the day by dragging my father back into it.”
“I don’t think I have a choice,” he said. “Not even if both of you wind up furious with me for interfering.”
He’d repeatedly tried nudging open the door to a reconciliation, but Amanda had just as emphatically slammed it shut each and every time. Now he knew he’d simply have to kick it down. Those two had to mend fences, not just because Max needed Amanda in his life, but because she would forever regret it if she and her father never had the chance to make things right between them. Continuing to keep Max’s secret would cost Caleb Amanda’s respect, just as surely as revealing it might cost him Max’s trust.
“Yes, you do,” she whispered. “You do have a choice.”
“No, Amanda, not anymore. I need to talk to you about him,” he said quietly.
She reached for the paper plates and started to rise from the table. “I need to put these in the trash before they blow all over the place,” she said, her gaze averted.
He put his hand over hers and kept her from moving away. “Don’t run from this, Amanda. Hear me out.” She stilled, but didn’t face him. “Amanda, please. You trust me, don’t you?”
“More than anyone,” she admitted, albeit reluctantly. “At least, I did.”
“Then you know I wouldn’t press you on this if it weren’t important. Look at me, Amanda.”
He waited until she finally faced him and met his eyes. “You need to see your father,” he said flatly. “Now.”
Her hands trembled visibly at that and she set the trash back down. A breeze caught the plates and napkins and scattered them just as she’d feared, but she didn’t seem to notice. She regarded him with dismay.
“What do you mean I need to see him?” she asked, her voice shaky. “You make it sound so urgent, as if something’s wrong.”
“Something is,” he told her.
She swallowed hard. “He’s ill?” she asked, as if trying to grapple with the concept.
Caleb could sympathize. He, too, had known Max when he was strong and vital. It was hard to see him as he’d been last night, uncertain and shaky, and reconcile him with that once-confident man.
“Caleb, tell me. Is my father sick?”
He nodded.
“Cancer?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. “Is he dying?”
“No, in some ways this is worse,” Caleb said gently. “He has Alzheimer’s.”
Though her lips stayed in a firm, unforgiving line, her eyes welled with tears. “I see,” she said tightly.
“Do you? Do you understand that you must see him now?”
“No,” she said stubbornly. Only her visible trembling betrayed the fact that she was far less certain than she seemed. “I can’t,” she insisted. “I won’t. Not even now. Besides, he probably doesn’t want me anywhere around him. He made you promise not to tell me, right? There you go. He still doesn’t want to see me any more than I want to see him.”
Caleb refused to let her off that easily. He tried to hammer the point home, make her grasp what lay ahead. “Do you know there will come a time when he won’t recognize you? When all the years of love you shared will be forgotten? Don’t you think you should recapture those feelings, those memories, while you can?”
He watched as his words sank in, as she envisioned her father slipping from her forever, not with the quick finality of death, but bit by bit. He could see the agony in her eyes.
“Why is it up to me?” she asked plaintively. “He pushed me away, not once, but twice.”
“I know it doesn’t seem fair, but that’s really not the issue now, is it? One of you has to make the first move, and given his pride, I think it will have to be you.”
“Why?”
“Because Max is terrified you’ll only turn to him out of pity or, worse, that you won’t come back at all. He knows how badly he hurt you, Amanda. He knows he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness, but he wants it desperately. You have to see that. He’s been reduced to sneaking over to your house just to catch a glimpse of you. That’s why his car was in your neighborhood this morning.”
Her eyes were filled with uncertainty. “I don’t know if I can do this, Caleb. He tore my heart out. He rejected my children. How can I forgive him for that?”
“You can, because you know in your heart that it’s the right thing to do. Forgiveness is always the right choice.”
“I think you’re expecting too much from me.”
“No, I’m not,” he said confidently. “You’re the strongest woman I know. Look at the heartache you’ve weathered.”
“Lots of women are single moms,” she said, dismissing the importance of one of her greatest achievements.
“But how many have fought their way back from despair?” he countered. “How many have been buried in debt and struggled to make restitution for every penny of it, even beyond what was required by the court? How many have protected their children from their father’s folly and kept their love for him as innocent and pure as it ought to be?”
She gave him a wry look as he heaped on the praise. “Probably more than you or I know. I’m not that unique, Caleb. You seem to have a bias where I’m concerned.”
“No question about it,” he agreed. “But I also see quite clearly that you’re strong enough to do what needs to be done for your father.”
“And what is that exactly?”
“Love him, Amanda. Just love him the way you once did, without conditions or reservations.”
The tears that had clung to her lashes spilled down her cheeks. “I always have. It wasn’t enough before. What makes you think it will be now?”
“Because it’s time.”
“And if he turns me away again?”
“Then you keep coming back,” Caleb said. “He will say things to try to drive you away, Amanda. This is Max, after all. You simply have to tune him out. Hear what he’s not saying, instead.”
“Which is?”
“That he’s scared and lonely and that he misses you and needs you.” He reached for her hand and held it tightly. “Isn’t that really what counts, what’s in his heart?”
“Sometimes people need to hear the words, Caleb.”
He gave her a smile edged with sorrow. “And sometimes you simply have to take them on faith.”
“I don’t have your kind of faith,” she argued.
“Then lean on me,” he told her. “I have enough for both of us.”
13
Now that Caleb had persuaded Amanda to see her father—at least he hoped he had—he needed to prepare Max for the visit. He could have left it to chance, but he was convinced that wouldn’t be fair to either one of them. No, he’d started this. It was only right that he do all he could to smooth the way. It would help if he happened to catch Max in a mellow state of mind.
Unfortunately, as it turned out, Max didn’t seem to be in any mood to listen to anything Caleb had to say this morning. He’d had a restless night and when Caleb arrived, he was busy berating Jessie for everything from the pulp in his orange juice to the weather.
Jessie ushered Caleb into the kitchen to get his coffee, then made a face at Max’s continuing tirade. “You’re on your own with him. He’s being even more impossible than usual.”
“Any particular reason?”
She lowered her voice. “He’s scared, but you never heard that from me.” In a louder tone, she said, “I have cleaning to do. Help yourself to some of that pecan coffee cake while it’s still warm. And there’s more coffee when you’re ready. You’re going to need it.”
“I heard that,” Max hollered from the dining room.
“I meant for you, too,” Jessie retorted.
Caleb warred with himself over the coffee cake, but it was a lost cause. He cut a large slice, poured himself a cup of coffee, then went to join Max. He gave the old man a chiding look. “Given the w
ay you treat her, you’re lucky that woman doesn’t quit.”
“What do you care?” Max growled. “Unless you’re worried you’ll lose access to all her baked goods.” He pointedly eyed the coffee cake.
“That’s part of it of course,” Caleb acknowledged unrepentantly. “Then, again, I think she’d keep me supplied, anyway. At least I show her my appreciation.”
“And I don’t? I pay her a bloody fortune to keep up with this place.”
“But not enough to make her take your abuse,” Caleb chided. “She does that because she cares about you.”
Max scowled at him, then sighed. “Okay, you’re right. Fortunately Jessie knows my bark is worse than my bite. She gives me a lot of latitude, especially these days.”
“Feeling sorry for you?” Caleb inquired, knowing how much that must grate.
Max nodded. “Can’t say I like it.”
“Few people would.”
“Then you might want to rearrange your face, as well. You’ve got that pitying expression back on it again,” Max grumbled.
Caleb laughed. “Sorry. I’ll see what I can do.” He forced an exaggerated smile. “Is that any better?”
“You’re not a bit funny,” Max said, then gave him a hard look. “What brings you out here this morning, anyway? You still checking up on me after what happened the other night? I don’t need you hovering. I get enough of that from Jessie. The woman hardly goes home to sleep these days. I think she’s afraid I’ll go off and leave something on the stove and burn the house down.”
“Max, have you left anything on the stove?” Caleb asked, not even trying to disguise his concern. “Is Jessie right to be worried?”
“No, but there’s a first time for everything. I’ve come to expect the unexpected when it comes to my memory these days.” He frowned at Caleb. “It’s not so bad, though, that I don’t recall telling you to stop hovering.”
“Sorry if my visits are getting on your nerves, but get used to it,” Caleb replied. “I don’t intend to stop coming around just because you’re cranky and determined to run me off.” He studied Max intently. “Have there been any more incidents like the one the other night?”
“Must have been a fluke,” Max said with bravado. “I’ve been feeling fine ever since.”
“That’s great,” Caleb said. “Did you mention it to Doc Mullins?”
“Didn’t see any need to since I seem to have all my marbles about me now.”
“Max, the doctor needs to know when these things happen,” Caleb said. “There may be something he can do.”
“He’s already got me on every drug out there, including some experimental thing that’ll probably destroy some vital organ if I don’t die of something else first.”
“You certainly are in a cheery mood this morning,” Caleb commented. “Maybe my news will perk you up.” He figured that was an optimistic assessment, at best.
“What news is that?” Max asked suspiciously.
“Amanda’s thinking about coming out here for a visit,” Caleb said, his tone deliberately casual.
“Why the hell would she do that?” Max demanded, pinning his gaze on Caleb’s face.
“Maybe because she wants to try one more time to make peace with the father she loves,” Caleb said.
“Or maybe because some fool doesn’t know enough to keep his mouth shut,” Max suggested, his tone scathing. “That’s it, isn’t it? You blabbed something that wasn’t yours to share. It’s a sad day when a preacher’s word doesn’t count for a damn thing.”
“So what if I did tell her?” Caleb replied, only a bit defensively. “Isn’t the important thing that she’s willing to make an overture to settle things between you?”
“Out of pity!” Max shouted, slapping his hand down on the table so hard the coffee cups bounced in their saucers. “I don’t want Amanda here staring at me with that same sad look Jessie gets in her eyes. I thought you understood that.”
“I do, Max. Believe me, I do. But you need your daughter now. And she needs to be here for you.”
“Says who?”
“Says me,” Caleb responded. “I think I know you both pretty well.”
“If you knew me half as well as you think you do, you’d have kept your nose out of this. I’m tempted to toss you out of here and ban you from ever coming back,” Max said, though the threat sounded halfhearted.
Max’s expression suddenly brightened. “You said she’s thinking about coming,” he said. “That means you don’t know for sure.”
“No, I can’t swear to it,” Caleb admitted. “But I wanted you to be prepared.”
“I doubt she’ll come,” Max said, sounding as if he was afraid to get his hopes up. He seemed defenseless and vulnerable.
“I think she will,” Caleb told him with more confidence, praying he was right. “Don’t blow this chance, Max,” he urged. “Don’t push her away if she comes. Welcome her. Tell her you’re sorry about everything that happened and put it behind you once and for all. Grab on to every second you can have with her. Get to know your grandkids. They’re terrific. You’ll love them. And they need you in their lives. They need a sense of family history and you can give them that. There are two little boys and a little girl who would benefit greatly from knowing their grandfather.”
“Seems to me, Amanda’s been pretty determined to make them O’Learys. She doesn’t give two figs about their Maxwell genes,” Max said bitterly.
“Maybe because your mule-headed attitude has made her less than proud of them,” Caleb suggested.
“Then why now?”
“Because it’s one of those pivotal moments we all come to from time to time. You faced one back when she wanted to marry Bobby O’Leary and look how that turned out. Now’s another one. You can get Amanda back into your life and you can spend time with your grandchildren, if you don’t let that pride of yours stand in the way.”
“What do they need with me? They have you, don’t they?” Max asked, his expression sly. “Seems to me you’re around there a lot. That’s where you were the other night when I called you.”
“I’m not their grandfather,” Caleb said, avoiding the trap Max was setting for him.
“What’s your interest in all this?” Max persisted. “What do you get out of it?”
“Nothing more than the satisfaction of seeing the two of you back in each other’s lives the way you should be. Family’s important. It shouldn’t be tossed aside.”
“Sounds awfully damned noble to me,” Max said. “You sure there’s not some other payoff?”
“Such as?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll figure out what you’re up to, Caleb, make no mistake about that. And when I do, you’ll pay for your meddling.”
Max’s gaze suddenly narrowed suspiciously, as if he’d just been struck by a less-than-pleasant thought. “You want that house of hers for somebody else now, is that it? You figure she’ll move in here with those kids and free up the house? Remember, I bought that land. It’s in Amanda’s name, free and clear.”
“Believe me, I remember that. That’s when I knew you still had a heart. As for wanting to give it to somebody else, the thought never crossed my mind,” Caleb said truthfully. “I want you two speaking again. I don’t want you under the same roof—something tells me that wouldn’t go well, at least not for very long. Besides, Amanda loves that house. She’s happy there. Why would she want to move in here again, especially with you being as cantankerous as you’re being this morning?”
Max regarded him with blatant skepticism. He gestured around them. His dining room with its formal antique table, ten matching chairs and expansive sideboard was almost as big as Amanda’s whole house.
“You think that little cracker box of hers compares to this?” Max scoffed.
“Not in size certainly, but I think she views that cracker box, as you call it, as home,” Caleb said. “And it’s within her means. She doesn’t have to rely on anyone else to pay for it. Independence means a lot t
o your daughter after everything she’s been through. Stop fussing, Max. She’s not interested in some grudging handout from you.”
“Then I’ll ask you again, why would she want to see me after all this time and after everything I did to make her life miserable?”
“You’re her father,” Caleb said simply. “That counts for a lot.”
Max sighed heavily. “I’ve been a damned poor one for a lot of years now,” he admitted with rare candor. There was even a hint of regret in his voice.
“Then you have a lot to make up for, don’t you?” Caleb said mildly. “Do it while you can, Max. Don’t let this chance slip away.”
He stood up and gave the old man’s shoulder a squeeze. “Just tell her you love her. In the end that’s all that really matters.”
He prayed that Max could utter the words and that Amanda would be ready to hear them. A lot was riding on that, for them and for him. If there was another blowup, another rejection, he suspected he would be the one they’d both hate for forcing the issue and putting them through it.
Filled with mixed emotions, Amanda had driven along the road to her father’s house three times since Caleb had told her about the Alzheimer’s. And three times she’d turned around and driven back home without even reaching the winding, tree-lined driveway.
Ironically, what should have gotten easier with practice kept getting harder. She knew if she didn’t turn into the driveway soon, she might never do it. She’d almost convinced herself that she’d be wasting her breath and her time. Only a nagging image of Caleb’s disappointment had kept her going back after the first time.
After each aborted trip, she read a little more about Alzheimer’s. The cold, hard facts of it terrified her. If she was scared, her father must be quaking, envisioning a time when he would be in his own private world and dependent on others for his care. For a man who’d always been so proud, so well respected and strong, it would be the height of humiliation to be reduced to that dependency.
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