Rock Harbor Series - 03 - Into the Deep (12 page)

“Dying?”

“Yes, dying. Alzheimer’s is a killer. But even more, he has cancer.” Cassie wished she could snatch the words back. Her father had asked her not to tell Bree. He didn’t want her to know until they had a chance to get to know one another.

Bree blanched. “How bad?”

“Inoperable brain cancer,” Cassie snapped. She rubbed her eyes. “I’m taking him to the nursing home tomorrow. We both know it’s time. He’s been wandering more. I have no choice. Satisfied at his punishment? The man who abandoned you will get his just desserts. All we want is a normal family dinner here once a week.”

“I never said I wanted him to be punished.” Bree rubbed her forehead. “This isn’t easy, Cassie.”

“I never said it would be. But you can make his final days happy. Is it too much to ask to visit him once a week?” Cassie was prepared to beg if she had to.

Bree sighed and bit her lip. She flipped open the photo album. “I never knew my mother took these.” She studied the photos of herself as a small child, maybe seven or eight. “All my school pictures are here too.”

“I told you—he kept tabs on you.” Cassie wanted to force her to see the truth. “You’re a mother. Have you never made a mistake with your son? All parents do things they wish they could go back and change.”

Bree didn’t meet her gaze. “I’d never abandon Davy.”

“Dad had a lot going on in his life right then. He loved you though.”

“Then why didn’t he ever contact me?”

Cassie nodded toward the door. “Here he comes. Let’s ask him.”

9

N
aomi felt glum as she sat on the park swing. Watching Timmy laughing on the teetertotter outside the library, she wondered how she could protect the children from the coming upheaval. Donovan had been shaken at the news of Marika’s return, and the last few days they’d both held their breath. Emily had been the worst, screaming she wanted to see her mother.

It had to be hard to be an abandoned kid.

The black flies had fled into the warm, dry air, and Naomi lifted her face to the sun. The swing swayed beneath her, and she felt the tension ease from her shoulders. She would spend this time praying like she should have done right from the first. God would see them through this trial.

Charley barked and ran back and forth between her and Timmy. Strange the park was so deserted today. It was an ideal day for being outside. A glint caught her attention, and she turned to look. Lauri’s old Plymouth was pulling in beside her car.

“How’d you know where to find me?” Naomi called, watching Lauri walk toward her with her characteristic long, swinging strides. The girl got prettier every day. Pregnancy had brought that characteristic bloom to her complexion, and Naomi was surprised at the intensity of the envy that stabbed her. She would never be more than just passably pretty, though Donovan swore she was beautiful.

“I didn’t. I was driving by on my way to work. I was early so I thought I’d stop for a minute.” Lauri sat in the swing beside Naomi.

“You look marvelous.” Naomi knew what Lauri wanted.

“I feel pretty good.” Lauri made a face. “I’m just glad the morning sickness is over.” She kicked the toe of her sneaker into the dirt and pushed the swing into movement. “I wondered if you and Donovan had made a decision yet on the baby?”

“I wish I could give you an answer,” she said. “For lots of reasons, I’d like to do it, Lauri. But we’re still adjusting to married life, and I’m not sure bringing another child into the mix with Timmy and Emily is the right thing to do. We’re still praying about it.”

Lauri’s smile faded. “When do you think you’ll know? The uncertainty is really bugging me.”

“Sorry.” Naomi smiled at her and put all the plea she could into her gaze. “Just give us a little more time, okay? Have you thought about what you’ll do if the Lord tells us no?”

Lauri frowned. “Not really. I don’t think he’ll say no.”

“Um, just because we want something badly doesn’t mean God is going to do it.”

“The Bible says he will give us the desires of our heart.”

Naomi shook her head. “It says, ‘Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.’ When we’re delighting in him, our desires come in line with his, not his with what we want.”

“Then what good does it do to pray?” Lauri’s lower lip trembled like a child’s.

“What do you think prayer is supposed to accomplish? God isn’t like a genie in a bottle who will do whatever we ask. Prayer is about talking with God, getting to know him, learning to love the things he loves. He’s preparing us to be fit citizens for the kingdom to come, and his goal isn’t to give us everything we want in this world. Don’t you want whatever God knows is best?”

“Well, yeah, I guess. But it seems so obvious.”

“But we can’t see the end result. You just have to trust God to see the beginning from the end.”

“Trust is hard for me,” Lauri admitted. “I keep thinking about how much I prayed when Mom got sick. The preacher had been talking
about trust, and I told God I’d trust whatever he knew was best. Then Mom died, and I felt like it was all my fault.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry. I know it’s hard to lose your mom, but God had a purpose in it. We likely won’t see it this side of heaven though.” Naomi wondered what God’s purpose was in letting Marika back in their lives. Telling Lauri to trust him was one thing, but it was harder to do when it was her own happiness at risk. What if Donovan took one look at Marika and discovered he still loved her? She gulped and pushed her swing. Better not to even think about it.

“You have to adopt my baby, Naomi,” Lauri burst out. “If I give it to an adoption agency, I’ll never see it again. At least I’d be able to watch him or her grow up.”

So that’s what this was all about. “I thought you didn’t want to stay in Rock Harbor, that you wanted to spread your wings and fly away.”

“I did. I mean, I do! But I’d know right where you were and that the baby was all right.”

“I’ll talk to Donovan,” was all Naomi could say. It wasn’t fair to Lauri to keep her in limbo.

Bree didn’t know what she was doing here. She’d determined not to let herself be coerced into sitting and talking over old times. But Cassie had somehow managed it. Bree couldn’t deny the emotional tug she felt toward her sister. She remembered a lot more than she’d told Cassie she did. The times when “Uncle Bernard” and his daughter were around had been the best days of her life.

Davy sat between her and her dad while Cassie watched from the armchair. Bernard Hecko was fully dressed today. He wore twill trousers and an oxford shirt. The five pens he’d had on his pajama pocket were now lined up in his shirt pocket. His red hair was neatly combed instead of sticking up.

With gentle hands he caressed Davy’s head. “I’ve got a piece of
candy for my favorite grandson.” He pulled a piece of caramel from his pocket. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Davy took the candy and began to unwrap it. “I didn’t know I had another grandpa.”

Bernard smiled. “I didn’t know I had a grandson for a while either.”

The camaraderie between the two amazed Bree. How could they pick up as if they had always been secure in their relationship, when she felt tongue-tied and inadequate? Cassie was smiling too, but all Bree wanted to do was bolt for the door and not look back.

Bernard—it was still hard to think of him as her father—looked up at her. “We could go outside. I had a slide and swing set put in yesterday.”

“Yay!” Davy raced for the door. He turned. “Hurry up, Grandpa!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Bernard got up and shuffled to the door.

Bree followed, her steps lagging. She knew he wanted to talk to her without Davy overhearing. She should not have brought Davy on her first visit.

Davy ran toward the swing. “Watch me, Mommy!” He turned to make sure he had all their attention, then clambered to the top of the slide and slid down. Samson barked and raced around him.

Bernard made his way to a yard chair and sank down. He patted the chair beside him. “Sit down, Bree. We can talk.”

Just what she didn’t want to do. She glanced at Cassie and saw her intent stare.
Coward,
her eyes seemed to say. Stiffening, Bree sat beside Bernard and folded her arms across her chest.

“Finally I get to see how you’ve done all these years,” Bernard said. He stretched out his legs in front of him and searched his pocket for a piece of hard candy.

“You could have found out at any time by picking up the phone and calling me.”

He glanced at her from under his heavy brows. “I thought it best not to confuse you.”

“You thought wrong. It might have given me some stability.”

“You had your mother.”

“Oh? You think a drunk could give me a stable life? It might not have been so bad if she’d been a sloppy drunk. But she was a mean one.” Bree rolled up her sleeve and showed the scar she usually kept hidden. “See this? She jabbed me with the fireplace poker for snagging her hose when I washed them for her. I’d show you more but they hardly matter. The scars on my heart will never heal.”

Bernard stared at the scar. Furrows creased his brow, then he closed his eyes and shook his head. “I didn’t know,” he said. His eyes reddened, but he didn’t look away.

“How could you? You never called.” She’d said more than she intended. But he needn’t expect to be greeted with open arms for his sacrifice in staying out of her life.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was transferred to Florida. Things were pretty much over between your mom and me, and I thought I’d be too far away to be much of a dad anyway. I knew she drank a little, but I never realized it was to that extent.”

“You just had your fun and took off, right?” Bree didn’t try to keep the contempt from her voice. Maybe her mother’s drinking had gotten worse when Bernard left. She was too young to remember how it had all started.

“I know it looks that way.” His voice sounded weary, and he rubbed his head.

“Is your headache bad today, Daddy?” Cassie asked, her voice low and anxious.

“Not too bad, Cassie. Not too bad.” He rubbed at his head again. “I wanted to marry your mother, you know,” he said. “She said she didn’t want to break up my marriage.”

“Hadn’t she already?”

“Will you just shut up and let him explain?” Cassie burst out. “You’re so stinking rude.”

“Rude?” Bree stood and clenched her fists. “You’re the one who insisted I come. This isn’t easy for me.” All the years of heartache washed
over her in a wave of painful memories. This man could have made her childhood so much different, but he hadn’t cared enough.

“Sit down.”

Bernard’s commanding voice stilled her restless movements. She turned and stared at him. The firmness in his voice was at odds with the plea in his eyes. Though every part of her being wanted to get out of here and forget this entire conversation, she slowly sank back in the chair. “Ten minutes, no more,” she said. “I have things to do today.”

“My wife was ill, a mental illness that made her shriek and cower every time I came near her. I had to put her in a facility and find someone to care for Cassie. I thought you were in the good care of your mother.” He sighed and dropped his head. “Maybe I wanted to believe it—I don’t know. Worrying about Cassie and my wife was more than I could handle. I had no idea things had been bad though. I’m sorry, Bree. Will you forgive me?” He reached over and grabbed her hand.

Forgive him? She tried to say “of course,” but the words stuck in her throat.

She pulled her hand away and stood. “I’d better get Davy. My students are waiting.”

This was going to be the hardest day of her life. Cassie tried to keep the tears from spilling over as she drove her dad to Rock Harbor Nursing Home the next morning. She still didn’t know if Bree would agree to her request for a regular family meal, and that made the day seem even bleaker.

Her dad reached over and patted her knee. “Don’t cry, Cassie. It’s best this way.”

His sweet words only added to her guilt. He was lucid again today, and she wanted to pretend to herself he’d stay this way forever, that he’d never have another blank day in which he wandered off. She knew better.

“This is a really nice place, Dad, and it’s only two miles from the house,” she said with false enthusiasm. “I’ll stop in and see you every day, and you can come home every Sunday.”

He didn’t answer, and she glanced at him. Her heart sank at the dullness gathering in his eyes.

“Did you bring my files?” he asked.

So quickly he was gone. Cassie blinked hard. “I’ve got them,” she promised.

“I can’t let them fall into the wrong hands.” His sly look faded to confusion again. “My research is too important.”

Naomi dried her hands on the dishtowel and hung it up to dry. Donovan had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since he got home, and her stomach clenched with the waiting to see what was wrong. She had a feeling it had something to do with Marika. The two weeks since she’d run into her husband’s ex-wife had trudged by with a sense of waiting for the other shoe to fall.

She was ready to get it over with.

“You having trouble with that, sweetie?” Naomi noticed the frown on Emily’s face as she worked on her homework.

“No,” Emily said, her gaze on the paper and a stubborn line to her lips. “I don’t need
your
help anyway.” She stood.

Naomi sighed. She thought Emily hated her now that Marika was back in town. “You need to wash your hair tonight when you take a shower.”

Emily picked up a glass of water on the table and dumped it on her head. “There. It’s washed. Now leave me alone!”

She rushed from the room, and Naomi followed. “I will not have you talk to me like that, young lady!” she called. Emily didn’t answer but rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door. Just as Naomi reached the door, she heard the lock click. She rattled the doorknob. “I want to talk to you, Emily.”

“Go away!” Emily shrieked the words. “I hate you.”

Naomi’s hand fell from the knob, and tears burned the back of her throat. She swallowed hard. Donovan was going to have to talk to Emily. She went down the hall in search of him.