A Father's Gift

by Andrea Edwards

  “Hi, folks,” he said heartily as he stepped through the door. “A top of the morning to you all.”

  Ellen smiled at him and returned his greeting. Ollie appeared around the counter and bore down on him, but Cassie didn’t even smile. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, but he forced down the irritation.

  “Morning, Cassie,” he said.

  “Good morning, Mr. Merrill.”

  He frowned. Obviously, something was amiss. Jack moved to where Cassie was and leaned with his elbows on the countertop. A little part of him said to leave, that this was the part where he was supposed to beg and plead and grovel a bit. But he forced his feet to stay put.

  “Get in late?” he asked.

  “No.” She shook her head. “I didn’t think it was late.”

  “Oh.” He looked around the room for a moment. A polar bear would sure enjoy the climate here. “I was just wondering.”

  She barely glanced at him, shuffling some damn papers.

  “You know,” he said. “While I was waiting to hear from you.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Jack heard the words but he figured they’d been spoken by another person. It couldn’t have been Cassie. There wasn’t anything sorry in her voice, expression, or eyes.

  “I didn’t realize that calling you was an order,” she said. “I thought it was just a suggestion.”

  What in the hell was going on? What did she want from him? “Is anything wrong?”

  “Should there be?”

  Jack had always thought of himself as an adult. Someone who’d been back of the barn enough times to know that when a woman answered your question with another question, that meant you were standing knee-deep in a manure pile.

  Obviously Cassie was having second thoughts about having made love with him. And only one thing came to mind—she’d measured him against her ex, and Jimmy Jack Merrill had come up short. A man didn’t have to have an overload of pride to find that hard to swallow.

  “Well,” he said, grabbing on to a hundred-pound bag of cheer. “I see you made it back safe and sound.”

  “I always have, so far.”

  “Well, that’s good.” He straightened and took a deep breath. “I just wanted to make sure that the girls’ swimming lesson was still on for tonight.”

  “I would have called you if there was a problem.”

  “Oh, right.” He forced himself to look bright and chipper. “What was I thinking of? I mean, you’re always calling. Keeping in touch and all.”

  The look in her eyes would have wiped out a division of elite fighting troops, dropped them in their tracks at two hundred paces or more, but it left him untouched.

  “Is there anything else, Mr. Merrill?”

  “No, not at all.” He backed off toward the door. “Just glad to see that things are going well for you.”

  Her eyes stayed hard as steel, with not a single blink.

  “See you tonight.” He turned and was about to step out the door when he stopped. “Hey, feel free to call and chat anytime you want, now, hear?”

  He stomped out down the steps and on toward the parking lot. He wished that he still played ball and that there was a game today so he could spend an hour or two whacking some three-hundred-pound monsters—maybe even getting into a few fights.

  Opening the door of his vehicle, Jack threw himself in. He started the motor, then yanked on the seat belt, trying to fasten it before it spent too much time beeping at him. Unfortunately, the thing tended to stick. He gave it another pull.

  “Son of a bitch,” he exclaimed, looking at the torn piece of seat belt in his hand.

  He threw the belt aside and sat there, staring out the car window. Aunt Hattie was right. Men and women weren’t meant to be friends. And he and Cassie apparently weren’t meant to be lovers, either.

  Jack leaned back and pinched his eyes. It was almost eight o’clock. The kids would be home from their swimming lessons and done with their dinner, probably watching some reruns on television.

  He hadn’t made it home yet. This morning he had been a little down. This evening he was grumpy—extremely so. There was no need to subject the girls to that, so he’d called Aunt Hattie and told her he had to work.

  And work he did—finished up two articles that weren’t due for another month and started outlining one of the courses he would teach this fall. And he hadn’t thought of Cassie. At least, not much. That was the major advantage of all those years of football. It had given him the discipline to concentrate on what he had to. Now that he was done with his writing, though, she came into his consciousness with a flying leap.

  Damn. Damn. Why did she still have to be hung up on Ronnie the Wimp? What the hell had he done for her lately?

  Jack’s computer had gone into the screen-saver routine, electronic frogs croaking in an electronic pond. He stared at them.

  He loved his girls dearly. He was financially comfortable and doing what he damned well pleased. Life couldn’t be better.

  Except along toward the wee hours of the morning, when the kids were fast asleep and the house was too silent for words. That was when he really noticed how lonely he was; how he just ached to roll over and hug a woman to himself.

  “Oh, hell,” he muttered. “Better get out of here and grab a sandwich before I get really mopey.”

  He was about to stand when he noticed a little mail sign flickering in the corner of his screen. Switching on his mail program, he quickly flipped through the E-mail messages that had come in during the day. The first three were just chitchat from friends. The last wasn’t. It was a reply to his inquiry about Cassie’s father.

  Jack quickly read through the short message. It didn’t hold a lot of information, but it was enough to start on. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to see Cassie again, but he did need to tell her what he’d found.

  He sent the message to his printer for a hard copy and, as the data was being printed, dialed her telephone number. Her voice came on the line and told him to leave his message. Jack hung up, deciding to drop by her house instead She might just be out in the yard with Ollie.

  He drove on home and saw her truck was in the driveway. Cassie was waiting at the door by the time he walked over.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  Jack stopped in his tracks. Man, that was a fine welcome. “I just came by to visit my old buddy, Ollie,” he said, indicating the dog and his wagging tail.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call when I got home,” she snapped. “But I was tired.”

  He didn’t want a repeat of their earlier discussion. He was here on business and once that was over, he would be on his way. Sure, he’d enjoyed their time together, but he wasn’t so hard up for companionship that he had to beg to be a substitute for Ron the Wimp.

  “And then things turned busy for me when I got to work,” Cassie went on.

  “What’s all this about?” he asked.

  “I know that you feel you owe me,” Cassie said. “And while I don’t entirely agree with that, I sure as hell don’t agree that you own me.”

  He could feel an aggravation growing and his stare turned into a glare.

  “So I don’t feel that I have to report my each and every movement to you.”

  Jack shook his head. “How about if I go back home, count to ten, and come back? Then we both can start over.”

  This time it was Cassie’s turn to glare.

  “I dropped by because I got some news about your father.”

  Her face paled and he forgot all his annoyance. Opening the door, he stepped in. “Why don’t we sit down?”

  “What did you—”

  He didn’t like the way she looked, so, taking her arm, he led her into the living room. “I want you to sit down first.”

  She chose the nearest chair, a straight-backed wooden one, to sit in, folding her hands in her lap and curling her bare feet around the legs. She looked so worried that Jack began talking fast.

  “I
don’t have that much yet.”

  She nodded but still continued looking into his eyes. There was so much there—trust, worry, pain, hope. He pulled up a chair and sat down in front of her.

  “He was in the navy like you said. Enlisted in Pierre, South Dakota.”

  A frown mixed into the worry lines creasing her face. Most likely the man had never told his family he’d lived in South Dakota. “And sometime while he was in the navy, he legally changed his name.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. At least, not at the moment.”

  Something in her eyes caught his attention. Was it pain?

  “But there’s no indication that the change was made to hide a criminal record.”

  Ollie had ambled over and laid his head in her lap, and Cassie stroked him while she gazed out toward the street. “More lies,” she said slowly. “Every time I try to find the real him, I just find more lies.”

  “I take it your father never mentioned South Dakota?”

  She shook her head. “He talked about the navy but nothing about before that.”

  “Nothing about parents? Aunts? Uncles? Relatives of any kind?”

  Again she shook her head. “He talked about his greatgrandpa Horace. We thought it was Horace Waldo Fogarty. You know, the writer. But then we found out Fogarty didn’t have any descendants.”

  They shared a long silence, Jack watching Cassie while she looked out her front window, appearing to be studying the street scene. She looked so vulnerable even as she seemed to fight for control. He forgot all of his earlier annoyance. She needed him and he had to be there for her.

  She turned to him again. “What now?” she asked. “Can we find out more about him?”

  “I can try.”

  Silence enveloped them again, but color was returning to Cassie’s cheeks and her petting of Ollie became more vigorous. Jack wasn’t surprised. She was a tough, resilient lady.

  “I’m sorry I was so crabby.” Her voice was quiet and held a trace of reluctance, making her sound like his daughters when they had to apologize for something.

  He smiled at her. “It caught me by surprise.”

  She laughed and smiled back. “I had a nice time the other night,” she said quietly.

  “I had a great time.” He’d hoped it had been better than nice, but nice was a start. “A super time.”

  “So did I.” A beautiful flush filled her cheeks. “I just didn’t want to sound like I was gushing.”

  “Nothing wrong with a little gush now and again. Helps keep a fella’s ego up.”

  “I was kind of scared.”

  “Of what?” he asked.

  “Everything. Nothing.” A little-girl smile filled her face. “I was afraid I was getting preoccupied with you. Afraid I was losing myself to some guy again.”

  “I’m not trying to own you. Honest. I just like being with you.” He grinned at her.

  She laughed. “I guess my marriage left a few scars that I’m still having trouble with.”

  “You were young,” Jack said. “You made the mistake of marrying a jerk.”

  She shrugged. “I guess.”

  Cassie looked so appealing that he wanted to just crush her to his chest, but that wasn’t the way things were done in the nineties. You felt things out, first. You determined what the object of your affection really wanted. You—

  He stared into her eyes. Soft, warm, loving. The hell with it. He stood and snatched her up, pulling her to his chest. And held her tight as he kissed the top of her head.

  “From now on,” he murmured into her hair, “don’t have anything more to do with jerks. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He just held her, feeling a peace settle in his soul. Somewhere along the line, his life had been blessed with a touch of magic and he had the urge to never let go.

  Chapter Nine

  Cassie hurried up the walk, hoping that the girls had been able to keep their little secret. Not that she’d been too sure she would be dropping by here on Father’s Day if you’d asked her a few days ago. But she and Jack seemed to have found a new understanding. She was no longer letting her fears rule her.

  She knocked on the door and a few minutes later it was opened by Jack, a section of the Sunday newspaper in his hand and a surprised look on his face—a look that turned into a smile of genuine pleasure.

  “Hi,” he said. “This is a nice surprise. I thought you were spending the day with your dad.”

  “I’m on my way there. I just thought I’d stop by and say hello.”

  His smile grew, as did the spark in his eyes. “Well, hello, then.”

  “Hello, yourself.”

  They stood there and smiled at each other, their eyes saying all sorts of things that their lips seemed to be unable to say. Suddenly the birds seemed to be singing sweeter and the sun seemed to be shining brighter.

  “Cassie!” Mary Louise exclaimed.

  The twins had bounced out onto the front porch.

  “What are you guys doing out there?” Mary Alice asked.

  The spell broken, Cassie laughed. “I’m not a guy,” she said. “Can’t you two tell?”

  The twins groaned, causing her and Jack to share a smile.

  “Land’s sake, Jimmy Jack. Are you going to leave that young lady standing on the porch like she were selling magazines or floor brushes?” Aunt Hattie stepped out on the porch and took Cassie’s hand, pulling her into the house. “Come in, dear. And please excuse my nephew’s manners. I don’t know where that boy’s mind goes sometimes.”

  Cassie tried not to stare in astonishment as the suddenly friendly Aunt Hattie pulled her along into the house. Cassie glanced over her shoulder, wondering if she should call for help, but the twins were just giggling and hopping about like munchkins on an overdose of sugar. Jack shrugged and smiled at her.

  “Please, sit down, Cassandra.”

  Nobody called her that, not unless they wanted a bloody nose, but Cassie wasn’t going to rock the boat. She sat down without saying a word.

  “Would you like some iced tea?” Aunt Hattie asked. “It’s such a pleasant day. Just right for something cool.”

  “Yes, please,” Cassie replied. She actually did like iced tea, although she would have drunk it no matter what.

  The girls dashed off toward the kitchen with Aunt Hattie following at a more sedate pace, leaving Cassie alone with Jack. His smile held a world of understanding.

  “So, how are you?” Jack asked, sitting in the chair next to her.

  She knew it wasn’t a generic conversation-opener. That look in his eyes said he knew about the demons haunting her.

  “Okay.” She looked away for a minute, not to avoid confiding in him, but to gather strength from the peace around them. “I’ve been thinking about him a lot. My other dad, I mean. I keep trying to come up with good reasons for his lies, but I can’t. I just can’t think of anything that justifies all the lies.”

  He reached out and took her hand. She found herself clinging to it shamelessly, but she didn’t care if that broke her rules. She was tired of her rules for now.

  “We may never find out his reason.”

  “Maybe I just need to find out something about him that isn’t a lie.”

  “Here we are.” Aunt Hattie came into the living room, carrying a tray, followed by the bouncy twins.

  “Thank you,” Cassie murmured, taking a tall glass filled with tons of ice. Jack took one after her.

  “Now?” The twins sang out the question. “Can we do it now?”

  At Aunt Hattie’s nod, they dashed off upstairs but were flying back down in a matter of seconds. Their great-aunt just sat there smiling, not even bothering to correct the girls for running up and down the stairs. It must be that holidays were special to the woman.

  “Here you are, Daddy.” Mary Louise handed Jack a small gift-wrapped package.

  “Happy Father’s Day.” Mary Alice gave him an identical one.

  Jack sat there with
a gift in each hand, smiling at his daughters, but his eyes held a touch of panic.

  “If each girl held her gift for you,” Cassie said, “you could probably open them together.”

  She knew it was silly, but Jack’s grateful smile was better than winning the lottery. Maybe her heart was just flighty today. Maybe it was hungering to be part of something. Maybe it was just a weak moment.

  After some initial fumbling, Jack got the hang of things and managed to work the wrappings off the little boxes. He even managed to open each box at almost at the same time.

  “Cuff links,” he cried, and hugged both girls to himself. “They’re very nice. Thank you.”

  “We each had to buy one.”

  “Yeah, on account of that’s all the money we had.”

  “Cassie helped us.”

  “She really did, Daddy. She made the store people give us two boxes.”

  He turned another smile on her but Cassie wasn’t sure what it meant this time. His baby blues were no longer placid and peaceful. An indefinable tension had crept into the room. Her mouth went dry, her hands turned sweaty. Her heart began to race. It was either lean forward and meet those lips head-on, or look away.

  Cassie turned so that her glance included Aunt Hattie. “We talked it over when I came to take the girls to their swimming lessons,” she told Jack, keeping her gaze from meeting his. “Aunt Hattie didn’t mind if I took the girls shopping.”

  “I thought it was a right sweet offer,” his aunt replied.

  Cassie hadn’t been sure what the older woman had thought; she hadn’t said much of anything. “I was glad to help,” Cassie said as the girls dashed out of the room again. “And it was easy to run over to the mall after their swimming lesson.”

  “We appreciate your help, Cassandra. We surely do.” Aunt Hattie looked sharply at her nephew. “All of us.”

  “Right. Thanks for your help.” Jack quickly glanced toward the kitchen, from where some minor bickering floated out. “Although it wasn’t necessary.”

  Cassie shook her head and laughed. He was just like her brothers. They liked doing for others but didn’t like others to do for them. “The girls wanted to get you something.”