by Melissa Beck
Oh, God, no.
The spray settled on Daniel in the water, thrashing to turn himself around to Amy, who bobbed beside him, wide-eyed and gasping for air.
"Amy!” Gretchen launched herself across the rock floor as Amy flailed her arms and knocked herself out of Daniel's grip.
Gretchen kicked her shoes off and prepared to jump in.
But Daniel had grabbed Amy again, and pulled her up against his chest before she could struggle away. “Tip your head back."
Gretchen knelt at the edge of the pool, shaking, terrified at the frightened expression on Amy's face. She'd swallowed too much water. She couldn't stop coughing. She looked so scared.
"You're okay,” Daniel soothed. “Breathe and relax now."
Amy whimpered, with her face still contorted with fear. But she didn't fight anymore as Daniel floated her safely to the water's edge.
Gretchen leaned out over the water, desperate to grab her and take over.
Daniel turned her around to face Gretchen. Holding her under her arms, with a grunt of exertion, he thrust her up out of the water so Gretchen could pull her into an embrace.
Once she held Amy firmly against her chest, she scrambled back several yards from the water. She sat there, holding her daughter and swallowing hard against the emotion that overcame her as the reality of what could have happened sank in.
She was vaguely aware of more splashes. Daniel must be climbing back over the pool's steep bank.
He appeared beside her. “Is she okay?"
She nodded, resting her cheek against Amy's head.
He brushed his fingers over Amy's hair, and Gretchen lifted her head so he could see for himself.
"You okay?” His words shook slightly. Amy moved her head up and down beneath his palm as he stroked her curls.
When he squatted beside them, Gretchen glimpsed worry in his gaze before he quickly covered it.
"She knows how to swim,” she told him, with a wobble in her own voice. “Miss Peggy taught her last summer."
"She just panicked. But it's okay. We were here and it worked out. Right, Amy?"
Amy moved in Gretchen's arms, twisting to where she could see him.
Something spread through Daniel as he stood beside mother and child, something that left him with a sense of peace. Just as quickly, he shivered. He could have lost Amy to the water. What if he hadn't gotten to her in time? He became aware of the gray, tomblike cave walls, and his gut ached. This was his fault, a sign that he sucked at parenting.
Amy eyed him.
Wanting to comfort her in some way, he winked.
She blinked.
He smiled as his gaze soaked up her little rounded chin, chubby cheeks and long, damp lashes.
Gretchen glanced up at him. Fear hovered in her eyes, that same fear that hadn't yet released his pulse to its normal rate. “Thanks,” she said. “I don't know what I would've done if...” Her voice trailed off.
He nodded. He didn't want to say anything with Amy there, but he tried to show Gretchen with his eyes that he understood. She seemed to get it, because a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
Amy stirred, and pushed away from her mother's chest. “You're hurting me."
"Sorry. I guess I was squeezing too hard.” Gretchen looked down at her clothes. “You got me all wet."
Not wanting to think about what they'd just been through any longer, Daniel seized the lightness of the moment and quipped, “What about my shoes? Huh?"
Amy checked out his Italian loafers, whose tassels now resembled sea anemones. For a second, she looked as if she might smile. But then she turned her face into her mother's neck.
Gretchen's gaze caught his. Concern still glimmered in her eyes. She didn't bounce back that easily from the scare, and now he understood. Things weren't going to be as carefree as they'd been before now. Before he knew being a father could mean getting slammed up against a brick wall, and then somehow being pulled back away from it, bruised but still alive.
When they got up and started walking out of the cave, they met a handful of men following the narrow passageway toward them. According to them, many more people had gathered near the boulders, cautiously awaiting word on Amy.
At the entrance, while the men took Amy to the cheering, whooping crowd, Gretchen touched Daniel's arm, to hold him back.
"She'll tell them all about it,” she said. “How she fell in the water and you saved her.” Her gaze softened on his. “Did I thank you?"
"Yes, but quit.” Looking at the cave's walls, he said, “I have to get out of here."
"Come on.” She turned to go, but he stopped her.
"I meant I have to get out this town.” He clenched his jaw. “Gretchen, I caused what just happened. She must've overheard us, and she doesn't want me to be her father. I could see it in her face. I tried to explain, but she kept getting more and more upset. She fell in the water because she was trying to get away from me."
"You scared her because she wasn't prepared.” She waved him off. “It's not your fault. You were right. I should've told her sooner."
"No. You were right. We shouldn't have told her at all. She would've forgotten me as soon as I left. But now she knows something she'll hold on to."
She'd know his face and his voice but she wouldn't have him. Just like when he lost his parents. Even those pictures of him in her head would fade after a few years. All that'd remain was a steady longing for someone you kept trying to remember. Or if you harbored resentment, the way he had for so long with his foster family, you'd keep trying to forget.
Which would it be with Amy? Would she wish to remember him, or long to forget?
Gretchen didn't know what to say. Daniel had a point. They could have left things the way they were. Hadn't she wanted that from the start, just wanted him to leave and never return? But she didn't feel that way now, and she couldn't blame Amy for reacting the way she had. It was what she'd expected would happen. Amy liked Daniel, just like she did. She wouldn't want him to leave.
Shivering in her wet jeans and sweater, she stepped out of the cave entrance. Daniel had told Amy what they should have told her together. He'd plunged into her parenting territory and taken initiative he shouldn't take. And yet, she knew now how much he really cared for Amy. He would never have intentionally hurt her.
She'd forgiven him. Now he must forgive himself.
Friends broke from the crowd and ran to greet her, offering towels and chattering about how great it was that Amy was fine.
Townspeople had gathered in a buzzing circle of talk and movement. They looked up as Gretchen and Daniel approached, and moved aside so she could see Amy standing safely in their midst. Cile had already slung towels over Amy's shoulders, and Crystal fussed over her and petted her hair. But though Gretchen had thought Amy would talk about the cave, instead she was strangely quiet. She wouldn't look at Gretchen or Daniel.
Though the rejection hurt, Gretchen covered her feelings with silence. Grabbing the towels Cile handed her, she offered one to Daniel, who'd followed her into the middle of the crowd. He waved it off, his gaze riveted on Amy as he knelt to her level. “We need to talk."
The sudden decrease in the crowd noise was palpable. Gretchen felt them waiting.
Amy looked into Daniel's eyes, into their mirroring toasted brownness. “Okay,” she answered in an almost-whisper.
He rose, lifted her in his arms and strode out of the ring of adults.
They all followed his lead and began heading back toward the house.
What's he doing now? Gretchen wondered. Amy was wet. She didn't want her catching a cold. She set her hands on her hips, hoping Amy might turn and look to her to seek permission, and see her shake her head. When Amy didn't glance back, she followed more closely, hobbling now that the excitement had receded and she noticed her sore muscles and the toe she'd stubbed on a rock.
Daniel carried Amy inside the quiet house.
She found them in the kitchen. As she came through the doo
rway, he glanced up.
When their eyes met, Gretchen thought she read need in his gaze. Need for what? Forgiveness from Amy, silly. It's eating at him. He told you so.
"This should wait.” She turned to Amy. “Let's go change clothes."
"Please,” he said softly. “Give us a minute."
"A minute. But I'm staying here."
Amy had climbed onto the tall stool that Eula kept tucked into a corner by the window, just for her. Daniel went to stand next to her. He kept his hands at his sides. Gretchen knew that was tough for him, being a toucher. He'd want to hold Amy, or take her hand. But he was correctly reading Amy's sullen look as “Back off."
"I wasn't a good daddy,” he began. “I wasn't here for you since you were born. I didn't know you. But now I am here, and I've gotten to know you. And guess what?"
She shook her head.
"I like you."
Her expression remained passive.
He had the knack for talking to kids. He said just enough so Amy would understand. Gretchen ached to reach out and pull them into a circle, to be the family they weren't. But the sure knowledge that this was only a moment in time stopped her. This moment couldn't repeat, because Daniel was going away.
She willed herself to memorize the tilt of her little one's nose and the curve of her cheek as she looked up at her father for one of the very last times before he left. Daniel's chin angled down as he gazed at Amy. Gretchen noted the outline of his nose, and the intentness in his eyes. She didn't mean to memorize him. She was angry with him, for being like this. For caring about them. Why couldn't he just be a jerk, and make this easy? But watching him, seeing how earnest he was, her anger slowly melted away.
"I have to know something.” Daniel reached out then and took Amy's hands in his.
Amy stared at their hands.
He placed her fingers against his and examined their lengths. He put his palm against hers, and touched her nails with the pads of his fingers. “I have to know,” he repeated. “Do you like me?"
"You're not my daddy,” she said, in a small voice. Her chin trembled. She pulled her hands away from his, and crossed her arms.
"I am."
She eyed him. “I'm cold."
"But it's so warm in here.” He looked around at the old oven. “It must be ninety degrees from all of Cile's baking."
He looked back at Amy, and wrapped her towel more tightly around her.
Amy slid a glance Gretchen's way.
Gretchen stepped closer.
"Just one more thing,” Daniel said to the little girl. “I want you to know that I'll always be here for you."
She looked at him.
"Do you understand that?"
She nodded.
"Good.” He kissed the top of her head.
Gretchen moved in quickly then. With a threatening look at Daniel, she scooped up Amy and hurried to the bathroom with her. She didn't want her catching cold and she didn't want her buying into Daniel's promises.
Cile gave Gretchen towels and saw to it that they had shampoo and soap.
After Amy's bath, as Gretchen sat on the bedroom floor brushing and drying her yawning youngster's hair, she thought of what Daniel had said.
I want you to know I'll always be here for you.
How could he say that, when he knew darn well it wasn't true?
"Gretchen?"
She glanced around to find Crystal at the door, and turned off the blow dryer. “What?"
"Daniel left."
Her heart dropped.
Her friend plopped onto the bed on her belly and propped her chin in her hands. “Boy, did he ever look good all wet like that. Why do some people look even hotter when they're—"
"Crystal!” Gretchen turned the hot air on and blasted her for a few seconds. “Stick to the point. He left because I was mad at him?"
"Nope. He said he'd had this brainstorm about how to showcase MCC, and he went to find Wally."
"Oh. You mean he left the farm.” Relief flooded her, followed by irritation. He could've told her he was leaving. “That's Daniel. When things get hairy in real life, there's always money to be made."
"I don't see why you're so mad at him. He got Amy out of that water."
"Yeah. After he told her he was her father and she ran from him and fell in."
"Oh."
Gretchen snapped the dryer on. When she turned off again, she said, “So now you see why I'm mad."
Crystal looked down at Amy. “Are you still mad at him, Amy?"
"No."
"Good."
Gretchen untangled Amy's hair with the brush, and sent her out the door.
"If she's forgiven him, why can't you?” Crystal said when they were alone again.
"Because he's leaving, that's why!"
Crystal's smile spread. “I see."
"You see what?” Her gaze narrowed.
"That you're not mad because he told Amy. You're really hacked off because he's leaving you."
"No,” she insisted. “The sooner he goes, the better."
"Right.” Crystal headed for the door. She stood there a moment, looking at Gretchen. “Daniel looked just as sad as you on his way out the door.” Chuckling, she shook her head. “You two are perfect for each other."
* * * *
Daniel needed to clear his head so he'd quit this obsessing over Amy and his failures toward her. He had to talk to Wally about tomorrow, too, so he phoned him and suggested a run. Wally didn't exactly sound overjoyed at the thought, but agreed to meet him in the park as soon as they changed clothes.
Before they'd gotten much further then fifty feet in their jog, Daniel stopped, and leaned over to hide his laughter.
Wally pulled up short behind him. “You okay?"
Daniel looked up then, his eyes watering. “You run like a woman."
"Can't help it, man. It's these damned tight calf muscles."
That was an understatement. Wally's scarecrow legs seemed stiff as sticks.
"Better shoes would help. I'll have my assistant send you some from Chicago. Those thirteens?"
"Fifteen."
"Whoa! She'll have to mug a clown."
"Yeah, well, just make sure she doesn't send me any loafers with sissy tassels."
They ran on, poking fun at each other good-humoredly. Daniel divulged his plans for tomorrow's festival, then filled Wally in on what had happened at the pre-party. Wally didn't say too much. For once, he just listened. But Daniel wondered about that look he sent him. It was as if he knew an answer Daniel was searching for, but wouldn't put it to words.
Daniel drove on, pushing his lungs to work around the day's tightness, the stress on his body. The endorphins calmed him, brought him back to an even rhythm.
"Lighten up, Nicholson,” Wally implored, after they'd run several miles down the road. “You're killin’ me. This ain't the Chicago Marathon.” He stopped, shoved his hands on his hips and heaved in breaths. “You've run it, though, haven't you?"
"Twice. To qualify for the Boston.” Daniel sucked in the air, too, filling his lungs. He was ready to move on. It was hard for him to slow his pace, though he wanted to hang with his buddy.
"Dude! I want to be you when I grow up."
"Nah. Be yourself. Crystal likes you that way.” That reminded him of Gretchen, and his chest pulled. “Come on. Let's go back."
A short time later, he arrived at home.
Home at Gretchen's. He unlocked the door on his side of the house, wondering when he'd gotten so comfortable here.
He slumped in the chair and ran his hands down his face. Something gnawed away at him, something that came and went in odd bursts of pain worse than the tension headaches he'd grown used to over the years. It wasn't his guilt over leaving and not being here for Amy. He already recognized that ache. It wasn't the fact he'd miss Wally's friendship down the road, or the general sense of camaraderie in this town that had spread its arms and embraced him.
It was his longing to be with Gretch
en.
He got this sense when they were together that they were this team, that they could handle things. Like Eula's stroke. Like their desperate hunt for Amy, though he hoped to God nothing like that ever happened again.
But they weren't handling their upcoming separation very well.
He rose and went to the door, put his hand on the knob and turned it.
Swearing, he thrust away from the door and stalked back to the table. He scraped the chair across the floor and sat in it again. She probably didn't want to see him anymore. She was tired of the whole thing, and thought Amy was better off cutting the ties now instead of tomorrow.
He stared at his keys lying on the counter. He could leave.
No, he couldn't. He had to stay for the festival. He wanted to stay, if she'd allow it. He wanted to spend as much time as possible with both of them tomorrow.
He went to bed and thrashed around in the sheets. Gretchen. His body hardened as he considered making love with her, kissing her and holding her and lying in bed with her for a lifetime.
She could live without him.
But could he live without her?
* * * *
Gretchen lay in bed with Amy asleep beside her. She'd wandered in asking for water, and afterward refused to go back to her room. She hadn't done that in a long time.
This is your fault, Daniel. This is her way of acting out, of showing her confusion over your revelation today.
There. She'd said it, in her thoughts. But it didn't do a bit of good. She couldn't get around wanting him long enough to be angry with him.
She inched out of bed so she wouldn't wake Amy, and went to the bathroom to get an elastic band, to pull her hair back. She glanced into the mirror, frowned and stared.
How could she look that tired and still be wide awake?
And sheesh, she hadn't realized how unsexy she looked in her old, faded Marydale Elementary Fun Run T-shirt and men's-style undershorts.
Not like he's gonna see them. You're not going over there.
She slid her cold feet into her furry slippers, and padded to the kitchen. Maybe a cup of hot tea would soothe her.