A Weekend Getaway (22 page)

The woman pursed her lips and seemed fragile. She squeezed
the locket hanging around her neck. “You don’t have to do that, Parker.”

He wondered if perhaps her late husband’s photo was tucked
inside that tiny gold heart. “Actually it would be a treat for me. But I don’t
want to impose.”

She pointed toward a key hook near the door. “It’s the one
on the silver ring. Just be careful.”

Hannah jumped up and down. Beth didn’t seem thrilled with
the idea as she fiddled with her purse strap. Was this going to make her feel
left-out? He didn’t mean to do that. But that smile on his daughter’s face
mattered more than Bethany’s feelings.

On their way out the door, Connie handed Parker a small
cooler. “I packed you some sandwiches in case you get hungry.”

He thanked her and headed for the car. Hannah placed some
camera equipment in the backseat before climbing behind the wheel.

He spent some time sitting in the driveway talking Hanna
through the concept of gears. “You have to push on the clutch before shifting.
It’s like asking permission before you can change gears.” She seemed to catch
on quickly. The truth was that driving a stick shift mostly required practice.
“Ready?”

She nodded. “My dad took me out a couple times.” She pressed
the clutch, put it in first gear and hit the gas. The car jerked and stalled. “Darn
it. Let me try again.”

He looked over his shoulder and grinned at Beth in the
backseat. She waved as if she were going on an adventure with him. In a way,
she was.

The herky-jerky drive to the park didn’t bother him at all.
The car died at a stoplight and someone honked. Parker whipped around and gave
the driver the finger.

“Parker!” Beth said from the backseat. “That’s not like
you.”

His face burned. Once again, the Huntington’s had shortened
his fuse.

He shook away the thought, noticing that Hannah was already
gaining confidence and skill. He loved that his father taught him to drive and
now he had the pleasure of teaching his daughter. The comparison gave him goose
bumps.

Within ten minutes they passed a sandstone sign that read
“Lake White Rock Park.” Hannah pulled into a paved parking lot and grinned with
pride.

Because the temperature was in the lower sixties, he decided
to leave his coat in the car. “This weather is so much warmer than where we
came from.” He reached for their picnic.

Hannah grabbed her camera bag and led them east along a
massive lake. She didn’t get very far before she started snapping pictures.
Wildflowers, leaves, birds, clouds. Everything seemed to intrigue her and she
utilized a telephoto zoom lens like a pro. It surprised him that she preferred
an old-fashioned 35-mm camera to a digital.

She pointed toward the Dallas skyline in the distance. “See
that island?”

He and Beth answered, “No” at the same time.

The adolescent squinted with a wistful expression. “Bonnie
Belle Island is the secret home of leprechauns and unicorns. Legend has it that
it can only be seen on the fifth Tuesday of the thirteen month when the moon is
full.” She started hiking along the trail some more. “When I was little, I
actually believed my dad when he told me that.”

Parker smiled and reached for Beth’s hand, checking her
expression for approval. When she didn’t pull away, he allowed the heat from
her skin to warm his heart. Last night when they’d bumped hands in the hall,
he’d suddenly realized that holding her hand might be nice.

He watched Hannah make her way down the path, alternating
marching and stopping. A couple of bikers whirred past them, causing the white
pelicans on the nearby shore to step away.

Hannah got down to ground level and aimed her lens at the
birds. Once she’d taken a few shots, she stood, brushed herself off and
continued on. “Tell me about your
families.
. .my
grandparents.”

He talked about growing up in northern Indiana, his father a
manager at the Uniroyal plant, his mother, an Avon Lady and his grandparents,
Belgian immigrants. “In Belgian households, you greet visitors with a
handshake—even the children. If you know them well, then it’s a kiss on
the left cheek, right and back to left again.”

Hannah smiled. “Oh, like in France. I study French in
school.”

“Did you know they speak French in part of Belgium?”

Hannah nodded and led them across a concrete bridge over a
creek. “Don’t you think immersion is the best way to learn a language?”

He made eye contact with Beth who seemed content to listen.
As far as he knew, she hadn’t traveled outside of the states, so he decided to
answer. “There’s no comparing learning in the classroom and actually conversing
with native speakers. Plus experiencing the culture is part of the fun.”

Hannah slowed to fall in step beside them. “That’s how I
feel, too. My school is taking a trip this summer to Europe, but my mom won’t
let me go.”

“Why not?”

“Parents aren’t allowed to chaperone—only teachers.
Mom claims it’s too expensive, but I think the truth is she’s over-protective.
She doesn’t want to let me out of her sight.”

Parker hated to think that his daughter was being held back.
“You need to see the way people live in other parts of the world. It’s a global
economy. Too many Americans fail to understand things beyond our borders.”

Hannah’s brown eyes lit up. “Exactly. I just have to go.
Plus now that I know my grandparents are Belgian, it would be like studying my
ancestry.”

“I hope your mom changes her mind.”

“She won’t listen to me. I’ve been begging her. Even offered
to get a job to help pay for it. Any chance you could talk to her for me?”

He glanced at Beth who shrugged. “We’ll see what we can do.”

“Thank you! Thank you!” Hannah did a little happy dance and
he loved that he’d caused it. First with teaching her to drive the stick shift
and now this. They were starting to connect.

They neared a grove of cypress, oak and elm trees. Hannah
spread her arms wide. “This is called Celebration Tree Grove. If you donate
$1,000, you can get a plaque in remembrance of someone. I wanted to get one for
Dad, but Mom said we should save the money for college. Dad would’ve preferred
that.” She sighed. “Someday when I have money of my own, I’ll have them plant a
tree in his honor.”

Or I could pay your
tuition and for your trip to Europe. You shouldn’t ever worry about money. You
should pursue your dreams.
But he swallowed his thoughts, worried she
didn’t want him to swoop in and save the day by writing a check. He’d learned
his lesson in the jewelry store.

Putting down the cooler, he ran his fingers along one of the
bronze plaques: Henry Macy, 1940-2008. How much would Hannah grieve when Parker
passed away? Would anyone want to plant a tree in his honor?

He squeezed his eyes shut. How the hell was he ever going to
tell her?

Sunshine warmed his cheeks, reminding him that the weather
was a pleasant respite from the snowstorm in Chicago. He decided to focus on
the here and now. Without letting go of Beth’s hand, he retrieved the cooler.

Hannah continued along the path. “What’s your family like,
Bethany?”

Beth hesitated. “My mom stayed home until I went to college.
My dad is a minister.” She took a breath before continuing. “That’s part of why
I couldn’t keep you. Now it seems ridiculous that I cared so much about what my
parents thought, but I did.”

Hannah looked at the ground. “I still care what my mom
thinks. . . . I act like I’m independent and ready to graduate a year early,
but the fact that Mom wants me to stay at home makes me wonder. Do I really
want to miss my senior year? Does she know what’s best for me or is she just
lonely without my dad around?”

Beth shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re almost done
with high school.”

“The hardest part is declaring a major. I’m good at all of
my subjects, but art is what I love.” She froze and signaled for them to be
quiet.

Leaning against a tree to steady her camera, she took a few
pictures of a yellow-breasted bird. It made a high-pitched trill that sounded
like “tree-
ee
-
ee
.” The bird
flew away and Hannah faced them, her braces shining in the sun. “Did you see
that? I think it was a Tropical Kingbird. Wow. Don’t see too many of those.”

Parker rubbed his thumb along Beth’s skin. He hadn’t held
hands with a woman in years. She reminded him about the little thrills in life
that he’d nearly forgotten.

Smiling at him, Beth seemed receptive to his moves. She then
turned her head toward Hannah. “Who taught you about birds?”

“Both my parents are crazy about wildlife. My dad knew about
birds and my mom’s an expert on flowers.”

“I love how you take pictures of nature then transform them
into collages. When we get back to the house, I’d love to see more of your
artwork.”

With the energy of youth, Hannah marched onward. She called
over her shoulder. “I have an on-line portfolio at hannahbanana.net.”

Beth chuckled. “Hannah Banana? That’s your e-mail address,
too.”

The teenager kicked a rock along the path. “It’s a nickname
my dad gave me.” Her voice cracked.

No one seemed to know what to say until Beth broke the
silence. “At work we’ve been talking about redesigning our bottles, trying to
make them prettier. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to send your portfolio
link to my boss.”

Hannah shrugged. “Sure. Whatever.”

“I hate that I have to leave tomorrow. We can keep
e-mailing. Perhaps you could come visit me sometime.”

Their daughter didn’t respond and Parker felt bad for Beth.
They crossed another creek and found themselves amongst stone tables and
benches that had probably been built decades ago.

He gestured toward the cooler in his hand. “This looks like
it was made for picnics. Anyone want to stop for a bite?”

Hannah put her finger to her lips. “Just a minute. I think I
see a rabbit over there.” She moved stealth-like while raising her camera to
her face.

Sitting down at one of the stone tables, Beth watched him
empty the cooler of bottled water and PB&J sandwiches in Ziploc bags. She
lowered her voice to a whisper. “Are you going to tell her soon?”

He stared at the gray stone surface. “I don’t know how to
bring it up.”

“Yesterday she asked about our medical histories, so she
wants to know.”

He watched his little girl crouch near a dried up pond. “I
wonder if she has the gene. God, I hope not.”

“I’d think she’d want to get tested and find out.”

“Some people don’t want to know. I didn’t. Especially after
I watched my father. Toward the
end.
. . he asked me
to help him overdose, but I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t man enough to fulfill his
only request.”

“That’s a horrible thing to ask of your child.”

Parker shook his head. “You don’t understand. At the end,
you can’t walk, talk or swallow. If the disease doesn’t make you depressed, the
drugs they give you to treat the symptoms do. Suicide is very common.” He bit
the inside of his mouth to make himself shut-up. He didn’t want anyone to know
how he planned to make sure he never needed someone else’s help to finish
things.

Just then Hannah bounded up to the table. “I’m getting some
great shots today. Hey, what are you two talking about? You look like you’re at
a funeral.”

He placed a sandwich and a napkin in front of his daughter,
then picked up his food. “Nothing. Let’s eat. It was so thoughtful of your mom
to pack us a lunch. Did she used to cut the crusts off for you? She seems like
the kind of mom who’d do that.” He was babbling and he hated it, but couldn’t
stop. “My mom did. And she’d cut sandwiches in half diagonally.”

Beth glared at him and mouthed, “Tell her.”

Hannah noticed the exchange. “What’s going on?”

Dropping his sandwich, he leaned back. He took a deep
breath. His cell phone rang, saving him.

Shooting him a disapproving look, Beth grabbed his hand.
“You said no more business calls.”

He checked caller
i.d.
and was
caught off-guard. “It’s Ivy.” He answered it. “Yes?”

“My plane just landed at Dallas-Fort Worth. Should I take a
cab or will you pick me up?”

CHAPTER
NINETEEN

“What the hell are you talking about?” Beth heard Parker
yell into his cell phone. She clutched her sandwich so hard her fingertips left
dents in the bread.

“No,” he said. “No.” He rolled his eyes. “Fine. See you
there.” He shut off his phone and stuck his sandwich back inside the plastic
bag. “My wife flew in to meet Hannah.”

Hannah tilted her head and her mahogany hair slipped off her
shoulder. “The one who isn’t the mothering type?”

He snickered. “That’s the one. She’s on her way to your
house, so we’d better get going.”

They gathered up their uneaten lunches and hiked back to the
Mustang.

Hannah jingled the car keys. “Can I drive home?”

Nodding, they agreed. Beth definitely wasn’t anxious to see
Ivy, so if the car stalled a few times, all the better. Why would Ivy want to
meet Hannah if she and Parker were on the verge of a divorce? But Beth didn’t
dare say any of this in front of the teenager. Once again, this was Parker’s
news to share.

Back at the adobe house, Hannah led them inside. Connie
graded papers on a loveseat in front of the TV. She still wore a T-shirt, jeans
and pink slippers. Clicking off the gardening show, she looked up. “Back so
soon?”

Parker took a seat across from her on the sofa. “I got a
surprise. My wife has flown in and will be here soon.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” Connie smoothed the sides of her auburn
hair, still in a loose bun. “I hope she doesn’t think I’m always this
shlumpy
.”

Taking the cooler to the kitchen, Hannah raised her voice to
be heard. “What are you talking about? This is how you dress every weekend.”

Connie shrugged. “Teenagers.”

Beth smiled sympathetically, sitting on a Navajo blanket
tossed over the couch. “I can’t believe how grown up and mature she is.”

The woman nodded. “Most of the time I can’t complain.”

“Pretty soon she’ll go off to college and meet people from
all different walks of life.” Hannah returned to the living room, her camera no
longer hanging around her neck. Beth waited for the adolescent to sit next to
Connie before she continued speaking. “I remember when I went to college, I
couldn’t believe how many of my classmates had traveled places I’d only read
about in books. I was so envious.” Hoping she wasn’t coming on too strong, she
paused.

Connie placed her papers on the coffee table and dropped her
red ink pen for emphasis. “She told you about the class trip.” She glared at
her daughter.

Beth looked to Parker for back up. He scooted forward and
started talking with his hands. “It’s a wonderful opportunity. What’s the point
of learning a foreign language if you can’t use it? Plus Europeans are so
friendly.”

Connie twisted her wedding band. “I’m not sure what Hannah
told you, but it isn’t right for us.”

“What do you mean by that?” Beth figured winning Connie over
on the Europe trip would help win Hannah over.

The middle-aged woman cleared her throat. “For one thing
it’s pricey.”

Parker clasped his hands together. “I’d be glad to pay for
it as an early graduation gift.”

Connie pinched her lips together. “I can’t let you do that.”
She shot Hannah another look. “I can’t believe you asked them to plead your
case. This is between you and me.”

Hannah crossed her arms and leaned away from her mom. “But
you’re being unreasonable. You treat me like a little kid. I’m sixteen years
old.”

Every muscle in Beth’s body tightened. She’d stepped on a
land mine and now sat in the middle of a family fight. “We wanted to say that
if it’s only because of the money, it would be a shame to not let Hannah go.”

At this, Connie sent Beth a withering look.

The doorbell rang.

Thank God.

The three adults took a collective breath. Hannah remained
slumped against the corner of the couch while her mother stood to answer the
door. Ivy’s willowy frame wore a scarlet silk blouse, black pencil skirt and
high heels. She carried a Gucci purse.

Parker stood and walked forward as if he could serve as a
barrier between Ivy and the rest of them. “Connie Taylor, let me introduce to
you my wife, Ivy.”

Beth wished she could disappear into the seat cushions.
Hannah may have technically been the illegitimate one in the room, but Beth
felt as if she didn’t belong. She waved half-heartedly at Ivy as she entered
the house.

Sticking her nose in the air, Ivy ignored Beth. Parker
placed his palm on the small of Ivy’s back and guided her to take a seat on the
far end of Beth’s couch. Fortunately, he sat between them.

Connie kicked her slippers into a nearby closet and faced
Ivy. “Can I get you something to drink?”

Ivy’s crimson lips smiled. “This is that Southern hospitality
everyone talks about, isn’t it? I’ll take a Perrier.”

“I don’t think we have any. I could get you some tap water
or iced tea.”

Ivy fluttered her hand. “Never mind.” She rolled her
shoulders. “I hate flying. All of those people breathing recycled air. I keep
telling Parker he should buy us a private jet, but he won’t listen.”

Parker put his hand on her forearm as if to quiet her. “Let
me introduce you to the wonderfully talented Hannah. Last night she won an art
show.”

Smiling at the girl, Ivy gestured toward herself. “I’m an
artist, too. I sing.”

Hannah chewed on her lower lip. Beth understood her
confusion. This meeting was supposed to be about Hannah, not Ivy.

Looking at Parker, Ivy said, “She has your eyes.”

Everyone except Hannah nodded.

Ivy fluffed her dark curls then smoothed her skirt. “What
have I missed? Have you gone line dancing? Seen a rodeo?”

Parker laughed softly and patted her arm again. “No, but we
did have a juicy steak last night. One of the best I’ve ever tasted.”

“The food on the plane was terrible. Did I tell you that? I
told the flight attendant they’d better get me something edible or deduct the
price of the meal from my ticket.”

Beth wondered if there was any way to escape as Ivy sucked
the life out of the room. She was killing the last few hours she had with
Hannah. How could Beth get up tomorrow and fly back to Indiana? There was so
much more she needed.

Ivy inhaled air so loudly everyone turned to stare. She
pointed at Hannah with a long, French tipped nail. “Oh my God. If she looks like
you, does that mean she has it?”

Hannah perked up. “Has what?” Her eyes studied Ivy for a few
seconds, then Parker, then Beth.

Beth could barely breathe.

Connie sat straighter. “Tell us what you mean, Ivy.”

Parker swallowed, his Adam’s apple visibly bobbing. Beth
wanted to hold his hand in support, but didn’t dare. He faced Hannah. “Have you
ever heard of Huntington’s disease?”

Their daughter’s brow furrowed. “I don’t think so. Does that
run in your family?”

He nodded. “My father had it and my grandfather. And I have
it, too.” He cleared his throat. “There’s a fifty percent chance that you have
it.”

Her eyes squinted. “What’s Huntington’s like? You seem
healthy enough.”

He cracked his knuckles. “In the beginning stages, it’s not
too bad. It’s little things, like being irritable, having trouble making
decisions and small involuntary movements.”

“And later?”

“The movements become uncontrollable. I won’t be able to
drive or work or even take care of myself. It’s a terrible way to go.”

“You mean it’s terminal? You’re dying? And I might have this
hideous thing, too?” Hannah stood. “First my dad dies and now you’re sick? This
is great. Glad to get to know you.” At that, she buried her face in her hands
and ran down the hall to her room. The door slammed and Beth flinched.

He started to chase after her, but Beth whispered, “Let her
go.”

Connie’s face flamed red. Her foot knocked the table leg and
some of her students’ papers fell onto the floor. “You have got a lot of
nerve.” She wagged her finger at Parker. “Just last night you said you didn’t
have any medical history to report. When the truth is, my daughter could have a
horrible disease!” She rose and grew more animated. “You come into my house and
try to buy Hannah off with diamonds. When that doesn’t work, you offer to send
her to Europe even though I’ve already told her no. When all along you’re
withholding this
huge
secret.”

She turned and thrust her finger in Beth’s face. “And you’re
just as bad. You lied about not knowing who Hannah’s father was. For all of
these years, you’ve let my daughter live a lie!”

Beth recoiled while Ivy sat and watched the show.

Connie shook her head and inhaled to continue her rant.
“Worst of all, your lies affect Hannah.”

Beth started to hyperventilate. She wasn’t used to getting
yelled at face-to-face. She struggled to catch her breath. “Mrs. Taylor, I
mean, Connie, wait a minute.”

“No, you wait a minute! Neither of you has a clue what it
means to be a parent. Being a parent means putting your child’s needs first.
Staying home with her when she’s too sick to go to school, taking her to
tutoring because she needs more of a challenge than regular kids, and deciding
when she’s old enough to leave the country without you. These are the tough,
selfless decisions a mother has to make. And neither of you has any right to
come in here and tell me how to raise my daughter!”

Beth felt as if she’d swallowed sand. She watched Parker try
to placate Connie, but Beth couldn’t hear his words over the ringing in her
ears.

Connie headed for the front door and pulled it open. “As far
as I’m concerned, I never want to see any of your faces ever again!”