“You almost typed his name in to see what would come up.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because...” She lifted her head, expression desperate. “I don’t know. It feels like betrayal.”
“Of your mother.”
She swallowed and nodded.
He wanted in the worst way to put his arms around her. It was killing him not to be able to. If he’d been her brother in truth, he could have held her when she needed someone. If they’d had a dating relationship, ditto. As things were... The boundaries were beyond fuzzy. Worse yet, he had a bad feeling he and Amy didn’t see those defining lines in anything like the same way.
“Acting on what you learn about him isn’t the same thing as informing yourself,” he suggested, not sure that wasn’t bullshit, but sensing she wouldn’t feel whole until she did learn everything she could about the man who was her biological father.
“I’m trying not to think about him,” she admitted. “I think I want him to be that monster in the mask, completely unidentifiable.”
“No.” Instinct had him shaking his head. “God, no. That’s the last thing you need.” He couldn’t help it. He held out his hand. “Come here.”
She stared at his hand the way she had last night, when he had told her he was staying. Last night she’d panicked and drawn back. This time, to his shock, she hesitated, then scooted herself sideways on the sofa so that she could lay her hand in his. He tugged her even closer, keeping his fingers folded firmly over hers. After a moment, she laid her head against his upper arm. Jakob’s heart cramped at the evidence of her trust.
“What do you mean, that’s the last thing I need?” she asked in a small voice.
He frowned, pushing aside his physical awareness to think how to put into words his inchoate certainty. “Like it or not, he’s part of you. Is that faceless someone who you want inside you? Sheer horror, anonymous and hateful? Or would it be better to find out he’s real? A creep, but at least someone who has good with the bad. Someone who is complicated, like most people.” Definitely complicated, if Jakob’s suspicions were correct.
“Do you know, when I read what Mom had written, I threw up? It was like I was trying to rid myself of him.”
“Yeah, I can imagine feeling that way.” He gently bumped his jaw against the top of her head. Her hair had been slipping out of its restraints all evening. Now curls compressed reluctantly and sprang back as soon as he lifted his head.
Amy didn’t say anything for a long time. They sat there in surprising comfort, her leaning on him, him liking the feel of her hand, so small and fine-boned yet strong, clasped in his.
“I’ll think about it,” she mumbled finally.
“Think about what I said earlier. You’re a writer. Isn’t it how you process what you feel?”
“I haven’t kept a diary in years.” She gave a small, gruff laugh. “Good thing. Look what happens when you do. Other people discover your secrets.”
He couldn’t help a twinge of guilt at the memory of the times he’d ransacked the guest room when she was staying with them in search of her diary. Someday he might have to be honest with her about that, but this didn’t seem to be the moment.
“I guess sometimes I do tackle personal stuff by writing about it,” she continued. “After I got hit on my bike that time, I did a series of articles for Seattle Met about bike safety, the politics surrounding bikes versus cars, the attitudes of people on both sides, the real challenges of creating bike lanes and so on. It helped.”
“Then do the same this time. Maybe your mother would cooperate anonymously.” Amy had left Michelle’s academic datebook/diary out on the table. He’d read it more thoroughly today. “She didn’t really want to go out with this guy. Why? Disinterest? Or was she reading signals she ended up disregarding? Talk to other victims. I’ll bet there’s a rape hotline here in Portland. Counselors. Maybe you could find some other women who’d talk to you. Even one who got pregnant. What decision did she make?”
She’d gone very still while he talked. He wasn’t even sure she was breathing. Maybe he’d screwed up; maybe all this was too soon for her to think about. Being pushy was his way. Charging ahead, being aggressive, was a requirement for a successful businessman. Didn’t mean that was right for Amy. Having to rewrite her entire life story had to be a shock.
But then she stirred. “You’re right. I can do that. I’d have probably gotten around to thinking of it eventually, but...” Her shoulders jerked. “Thanks. If I start now, it will help give me some distance.”
“Good.” He let go of her hand so he could hug her. Distance might be a really good idea, he thought as he embraced her, before he did something stupid.
She scuttled, crablike, back to her corner. At the same moment, his phone vibrated. He removed it from his belt and saw that a text had come in. From his father, who hated texting. Jakob hesitated, then opened it.
Answer your goddamn phone or else I’ll have to come to Portland.
After a soft grunt, he turned the phone around so Amy could read the message.
Alarm flared in her eyes. “He’ll want to see me.”
“Yeah.” Jakob frowned. “I’ll tell him to forget it.”
“Maybe if I promise to call him.”
He grimaced. “Dad isn’t a real patient guy.” After a moment’s thought, he opened a screen to reply and typed deftly.
Give her time.
Amy was keeping as anxious an eye on his phone as he was. Two minutes later, it buzzed.
Already bought ticket. See you midday.
She stared at his phone. “If I don’t answer the door, what can he do?”
“Keep hammering on it, the way I did?”
She scowled at him. “Fine. You won’t tell him anything I said, will you? He doesn’t have to know....”
“How much he hurt you?” The idea of letting his father off the hook made Jakob royally pissed. “You’re just going to give him a pass?”
“Why are you mad? This is about me.” She stabbed her thumb toward herself.
“You think I don’t care about you? We have a history, too.”
“Sure we do.” She was spitting mad again. “You put dye in my bra when I was in eighth grade.”
Well, hell. He’d actually forgotten that one, partly because she hadn’t said a word so he thought maybe the dye had dried before she put the bra on.
“I thought it didn’t work.”
“I was too embarrassed to tell Dad! It was even worse because I only got my bra partway on before I noticed. I had one blue boob. Do you know how long it took to wear off? I begged Mrs. Storino to let me skip showers in P.E. and she said no. Everyone saw.” Her eyes narrowed to evil slits. “Are you laughing?”
“No.” He cleared his throat. “Trying not to.”
“I hated you!”
He’d wanted her to. His confused teenage self hadn’t known why that was so, but Jakob had no trouble stripping his motives down now. She had scared the crap out of him, and the safest course was making sure she detested him. They could not be friends, they could not hang out together. They had to be enemies.
“I know,” he said quietly. “I do know. But we’re not the same people anymore. We’ve spent the better part of a week together now.” His eyes met hers. “You know everything has changed.”
They stared at each other. In that moment, he felt as if he’d been stripped naked, and not in an “I am man, I am powerful” way. Emotionally, as if he’d bared himself so that she could see straight through him.
The thing was, her eyes were wide and shocked, and he was seeing straight through into her, too.
His heart kicked up a gear, and he thought, I am in deep shit here.
CHAPTER SIX
EVEN JAKOB AT
his most bullying couldn’t make her talk to Dad, Amy reminded herself.
No, not Dad—she had to get that out of her head. Josef. Repeat to self...
Amy was so tempted to let herself be a coward. But the experience the past couple of days of having a complete meltdown had been an eye-opener. She wanted to believe she was stronger than that, and it was time she acted like it. Call it a vow.
Jakob had stayed overnight again last night. She couldn’t quite figure out why he had moved in, and she knew she ought to confront him and say, I’m fine. Go home. I don’t need you.
Of course she didn’t. She couldn’t deny that having him here had been...nice. She would be fine by herself, though, she told herself, now that she’d gotten past the first shock. Boy, did she wish Jakob hadn’t caught her being totally pathetic. Amy cringed to think what she’d looked like when he pushed his way into the house. After a couple of days of not eating or showering, she couldn’t have been a pretty sight. Gee, that might explain why he was refusing to leave her alone now. Sad, pitiful Amy, who wouldn’t even eat if he didn’t put the food on the table and the spoon in her hand.
So, okay, it had only been two nights. Once his dad had come and gone, Jakob would surely go home. Presumably Josef would expect to stay with his son.
Jakob had spent the morning on the phone, dealing with some kind of work problem. Or a couple of unconnected problems, maybe. First there was something about a manufacturing defect—it sounded like it might be bindings on cross-country skis—not discovered until after a brochure had gone out to everyone on the company’s mailing list. Apparently, that ski package had been featured.
Jakob was brisk, solution-oriented, but Amy had no trouble hearing an undertone that told her he was furious. Maybe an hour later she had wandered into the kitchen to pour another cup of coffee and once again he was on the phone, this time sounding pretty unhappy about the performance of someone named Hughes, whose job security had clearly just gone south.
She contrasted the razor-sharp voice she was hearing with the way he talked to her. Did the people he worked with know he could sound tender? Amy was embarrassed to feel a little mushy inside at the contrast.
Mostly, she stayed out of his way. Pretending to work seemed like the best strategy. The result was, she spent a lot of time in the small home office staring at the screen of her laptop and not accomplishing anything. She couldn’t concentrate on her current article—on spec, thank God, so she didn’t have to worry about a deadline. Unfortunately, she was far from ready to sort out her emotions and try to put them down into words.
Twice she went on the internet and let the cursor hover over the search field. She kept hearing what Jakob had said after she insisted she wanted her mother’s rapist to remain faceless, any woman’s nightmare, instead of accepting that he was a human being whose existence she’d have to come to terms with.
Like it or not, he’s part of you. Is that faceless someone who you want inside you? Sheer horror, anonymous and hateful? Or would it be better to find out he’s real? A creep, but at least someone who has good with the bad. Someone who is complicated, like most people.
Amy actually didn’t know the answer. Look at her—she had a hard enough time reconciling the anger she felt for her mother with unavoidable empathy. Muddling how she felt about the man who had raped Mom didn’t seem like a great idea right now.
But curiosity ate at her, and she knew herself well enough to guess she wouldn’t be able to contain it long-term. Or even for another day.
The doorbell rang and a jolt of adrenaline shot through her. She heard footsteps, the door opening, the rumble of masculine voices.
Maybe she should give the two of them time to talk first.
Coward.
Is that so bad?
Amy groaned and pushed herself to her feet.
They had gotten as far as the kitchen. When she walked in, Josef had his back to the cupboards and had his hands braced on the tile countertop to each side. Jakob was pouring two cups of coffee.
The sight of the man who had always been her father made the ache in Amy’s chest tighten to a knot that felt as if it might never loosen. A big man, he equaled his son’s height but was bulkier. He hadn’t gone soft at all. For the first time she saw that his hair had turned entirely white. The process hadn’t been very noticeable, as pale a blond as he’d been. The hair on his tanned forearms still glinted gold, though, and the intense blue of his eyes hadn’t dimmed at all. Pale lines, formed from squinting against the Arizona sun, fanned out from the corners of those eyes.
That’s what Jakob would look like when he was in his sixties, except for the leaner build.
Jakob, who had seen her first, stopped in the act of handing a cup to his father. The hint of a smile on his face gave her courage.
“Josef,” she said coolly. “You didn’t have to come rushing up to Portland.”
“Josef?” His face flushed with anger. “I’ve been your father for thirty-four goddamn years, and now you’re going to disrespect that by using my first name instead of ‘Dad’?”
“Turns out we were both wrong, though, doesn’t it?” Amy couldn’t seem to help taunting him, even if that wasn’t productive. Behind his father, Jakob was shaking his head in a warning she refused to heed.
But Josef surprised her. He crossed his arms and eyed her shrewdly. “Is it really me you’re steamed at?”
“Yes!” she yelled, feeling like a bottle of soda given a good shake just before the top was opened. “You knew! All those years, you knew.”
He heaved a huge sigh, bent his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I knew,” he said raggedly.
“I knew, too.” She could not, would not, look at Jakob, who was watching her with such compassion. “I knew something was wrong. Of course, you and Mom never told me what.”
Josef lifted his head to meet her eyes. His regret filled the room. “How could I? You were a little girl. My little girl. Only suddenly you weren’t. Your mother pleaded for me not to ever tell you. I couldn’t figure out why, but she wouldn’t answer any of my questions. I still don’t know who your biological father is.”
Amy froze, just like that. In her fury aimed at Mom and Josef, she had forgotten that, in a way, he was as in the dark as she’d been.
Jakob set down the cup of coffee in his hand and crossed the kitchen in a couple of strides. “Let’s sit down,” he said quietly, his hand closing around her upper arm. He steered her to the table in a way she recognized. She didn’t want anyone to know, but she was shaking all over. Jakob had to feel it, but he didn’t say anything. He only squeezed her arm gently, then let her go. “Dad?”
After a moment, his father pulled out a chair at the table, too, as did Jakob. Amy was very conscious that Jakob had chosen to sit at her right hand, close enough she could have touched him.
“Maybe it’s time somebody told me what you two found out,” Josef said gruffly.
Jakob raised his eyebrows at her. “You do it,” she mumbled, and gazed down at her hands.
He looked at his father. “Michelle was raped.”
“What the...?”
“Date rape,” Jakob continued in a hard voice that reminded her of the one he’d used on the phone. “A fellow student at Wakefield. She lasted through the semester, but she couldn’t bring herself to go to the class the guy was in. Maybe she dropped out, I don’t know. She was pretty traumatized. She must have known she was pregnant by the time she met you.”
“That much I’d figured out.” Josef made a rough sound in his throat. “Why didn’t she tell me?”
He sounded so genuinely bewildered, Amy looked up. “She must have been ashamed, don’t you think? You know my grandparents. What would their attitude have been if she’d told them she’d been raped? Would they have believed her?”
He was silent for a mo
ment, then shook his head. “No. They were old-school straitlaced. They’d have probably accused her of being a whore who had reaped what she sowed.”
Tears pressed at the back of Amy’s eyelids. No way would she let them fall. “That’s what I think. And maybe she believed it, too. When a woman goes out with a man, did she encourage him?”
“God,” he said, and ran a shaking hand over his face. Finally he looked at Amy, something like grief adding ten years to his face. “If she’d told me, if I’d been sure she loved me, I would have married her, anyway. I would have claimed you without a second thought.”
Amy’s throat closed up. She couldn’t have said a word to save her life.
“Instead, I got to suspecting she never gave a good goddamn about me. I was just the sucker she picked to solve her problem.” If anything, the lines carved in his face deepened even more. “She tried to claim that wasn’t true, but a lot came into focus for me.”
Ridiculously, Amy still felt the need to defend the person she was maddest at. “I don’t think expressing emotion was ever easy for Mom.”
He gave a humorless laugh. “You can say that again.”
She sucked in a breath. “I wanted you to take me with you when you left.”
Josef said a harsh, obscene word, unusual for a man who tried not to swear around his womenfolk. “You think I didn’t want to? I offered. I begged. I told her I loved you and I knew she didn’t. She wouldn’t hear of it. I was never sure if she was punishing me, or if I was wrong and she did love you.”
Under the table, Jakob’s hand closed on hers. She hung on hard.
“I don’t know.” Amy gnawed on her lower lip until it stung. “She’s never said the words. Not once. But...why would she want to punish you? She had to have known it was her fault, that she’d done something really lousy to you.”
“I never understood that woman at all,” he admitted. “But damn...” He shook his head. “Rape.”
From This Day On Page 10