Daughter on His Doorstep Page 10

  “Nothing that I can talk to you about.”

  It was dark except for street and porch lights. The neighborhood was quiet with only an occasional dog barking or car driving by. Luke had no trouble hearing the frustration, anger and hurt in her voice. She’d grown up in the years since they were together and had adult problems, but she sounded the same now as she had then and he found himself reacting the same way. He wanted to fix it.

  Just passing under a streetlight, he saw the stubborn tilt of her chin, the tense set to her mouth, and figured he was going to have to put his interrogation skills to work.

  “Is Emma okay?”

  “I’d have told you if she wasn’t.”

  “Are you having a problem with a student?” God knew he’d been one of those troubled teens who give teachers ulcers and gray hair. But he didn’t think that was the case or she’d have shown signs when they were together earlier and then she’d been carefree. Just to cover all the bases he added, “Or a parent?”

  “Not a student’s parent,” she snapped.

  “Your parent.” He was good at asking questions but she got points for not dodging.

  “I had a fight with my mom and we hardly ever do that.” She glanced up at him. “You’re going to ask what it was about.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You.”

  He’d expected her to suggest he take a flying leap and it surprised him that she didn’t. “What about me? Besides the obvious that my being back stirred things up.”

  “Nothing that didn’t need stirring up—” The words stopped because she was shivering.

  Luke realized she wasn’t wearing a jacket, probably slammed out of the house without one. He moved in front of her and she walked into him.

  “What?” she demanded.

  “You’re cold.” He put the jacket he still carried around her shoulders. “And I think we should head back.”

  “I don’t want to go home.”

  “You don’t have to. Let’s just head in that direction.”

  She nodded, turned back the way they’d come and slid her arms into the sleeves that were way too big for her. They walked in silence for a minute or two and she didn’t volunteer any more details about what happened to make her so angry.

  Back to interrogation 101. “So what got stirred up?”

  “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  “No,” he said simply.

  “Why do you care?” She looked up, studying him.

  “Good question.” The fact that she was upset shouldn’t matter and he didn’t want it to. But he couldn’t ignore her show of temper either. He chalked it up to being a soldier and cop, in public service. Any other motivation would have been stupid and he wouldn’t go deeper.

  “I care for two reasons,” he said. “Something happened and it was about me. And second, you’re the mother of my daughter. Your well-being affects her.”

  “Fair enough.” She nodded absently. “What started it was Emma asking why my mom doesn’t like you.”

  Was it wrong to feel so much satisfaction that Emma was solidly in his corner? “She noticed that, huh?”

  “She’s very observant.” Shelby sighed. “Mom came up with an answer that would be hard for any parent to fault.”

  “What did she say?”

  “That she’s mad at you for making me cry.”

  That punctured his satisfaction balloon. And he couldn’t dispute the accusation. The last time he saw Shelby to tell her he joined the army and say goodbye, she’d been crying. He hated that and it had taken every ounce of self-control not to pull her into his arms and tell her he would send for her as soon as he could.

  Right now Luke was having similar self-control issues, except this time he was on the other side of her lying to him. “But that’s not why you walked out in a huff, is it?”

  “No.” She stopped and looked up, her big eyes troubled. “She admitted she intercepted your letters because she didn’t want me to have contact with you. She knew I’d have second thoughts and tell you I was pregnant.”

  “I see.” He didn’t know what else to say.

  “She put me in a horrible position where I had very few choices. But I thought I’d reconciled all of that because I know how much she loves me. And she adores Emma.”

  “But—”

  “Hearing her confirm that she interfered and conspired to keep us apart—” She stopped for a moment and looked away. “I just lost it and had to leave.”

  “I get it.”

  “That makes one of us. Because part of me—the mom part—understands that she thought she was doing the right thing for her child.”

  He remembered how angry and bitter he grew as week after week of basic training went by without a letter from Shelby. He’d been lonely. Basic was hard, physically and mentally. He wasn’t good with words but the fact that there was absolutely no response cut deep.

  Yeah, he broke it off, but he’d poured out his heart in those letters, trying to fix what he’d done. When he told Shelby about them, she’d been sincerely surprised. He knew when someone was lying and she wasn’t. The only explanation was that her mother intercepted them. There was no positive way to reconcile what her mother did to him. To them. To Emma.

  “I hate to break this to you, Shelby, but there’s no way to make what she did right.”

  “I agree.” She folded her arms over her chest. “But think about this. What would we do if Emma was pregnant? I don’t know about you, but I want her to go to college.”

  “Copy that,” he said.

  “But what if she was going to have a baby and the father was someone we didn’t like? Someone we thought would make her miserable. You’re a cop and probably see that type all the time.”

  He did. He responded to all kinds of calls—domestic violence, child neglect, breaking and entering. The thought of Emma involved with anyone like that made his chest hurt.

  “Shelby,” he said, “your mother took choices away from you. From us. That was wrong.”

  “I’m not saying she was right about you. Just the opposite. You’re a good man. But she didn’t know that ten years ago.” Her look was pleading. “In the same situation, is it possible that we might do what she did? It’s a rhetorical question. I don’t expect you to answer.” She looked up at him, then started walking again. Their houses were in sight now.

  Again Luke fell into step beside her. “You were trying to make a point with that question. Let me try to answer it as best I can.”

  “Good luck.”

  “It would be easy to say I wouldn’t do what she did, but I recognize that my perspective is biased because I’m the one she cut out of Emma’s life. She’s my daughter and she’s a terrific kid. You’ve done a great job with her and I know your mother has had a big part in raising her.” With an effort he tamped down his resentment. “I love Emma. I know I haven’t known her very long but she’s an easy kid to fall for. I would do anything to protect her. Would I go to the lengths your mother did in order to keep her safe?” He shrugged. “The truth is, I’m not sure how far I would go.”

  “That’s actually very generous of you. I expected something more in the way of ‘your mother is a pushy, lying, interfering bitch.’” She smiled and stopped at the end of his driveway.

  He grinned. “I would never say that about my daughter’s grandmother.”

  As she stared at his house the humor on her face faded. It had been brief but he still missed the warmth in her eyes. Again the urge to fix what was wrong made him ask, “What’s bothering you?”

  “You’re not the only one who missed out. Just before walking out tonight I asked my mom how she would feel if she had a grandchild she didn’t know about.”

  “What did she say?”

  “That she could only think about me and Emma. Her family. I pointed
out that your family is Emma’s, too.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment. “I told her that sooner or later your mom was going to know and there would be consequences.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you told her yet?”

  He shook his head. “She’s getting settled in Phoenix. And I wanted to get to know Emma better before tackling everything with my mom.”

  “Okay.”

  “Just so you know, she’ll come here when I break the news.”

  “I’d expect nothing less.”

  He put his hand on her arm to stop her when she started to turn away. “One more thing. I’m working the next couple of days. When I’m off, would it be okay for Emma to spend some time with me?”

  “Of course,” she agreed without hesitation. “I’ll let her know. And Luke?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Just so you’re forewarned, she wants you to come to the Valentine’s Day party at her school. I told her you might be working, so—”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Just like that?” she asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Well, thanks for being there for me tonight. It helped to talk.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Good night.” She started to walk away, then stopped to take off his jacket and hand it over. “And thanks for this.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He watched her walk inside, then crossed the grass and let himself into the house. When he lifted the jacket to toss it back over the stairway railing, he caught a whiff of her fragrance and breathed it in. The scent of Shelby burrowed deep inside him and suddenly he felt a need so strong it nearly brought him to his knees. Feelings he thought long buried weren’t quite as squared away as he would like them to be. And he realized something else.

  It was getting harder and harder to blame her for the decision she’d made to keep Emma a secret. He was having trouble holding it against her and that was a problem. If he let it go, there would be nothing to keep his feelings for her in check. Then he would be right back where he was ten years ago. Tied up in knots over Shelby.

  Chapter Eight

  “Hey, Emma, what do you want for dinner?”

  Luke had this whole Friday with his daughter. He’d gone to the Valentine’s Day party in her classroom earlier and everything had gone off without a hitch. Even though her hostile grandmother attended, too. By mutual, unspoken agreement they’d ignored each other and Emma didn’t seem to notice. She’d seemed excited to introduce him as her dad when he helped her pass out her valentines to classmates. Even the sugar buzz overexcitement from a bunch of fourth graders couldn’t take the shine off that moment. And when class was dismissed, he got to take her home. That probably put Pam’s knickers in a twist which didn’t bother him a bit.

  Now it was late afternoon and they were shopping for groceries together. This was an occasion because she was going to spend the night at his place for the first time. Her idea and Shelby approved. The house would be sold eventually, but he had bought a twin bed for her. Wherever he ended up after the sale happened, she would still need one.

  “What do I want for dinner.” Emma was walking beside him next to the rapidly filling shopping basket. She looked up at him. “Can you even cook?”

  “I’m hurt you would even ask that question. I’ve got skills. You can’t get takeout every night.”

  “But you do it a lot.” Big dramatic eyes met his own. “I’ve seen the containers in your refrigerator.”

  Busted. He could be looking at a future prosecuting attorney. “You’re right. I often stop for food before coming home after a shift. It’s easier. And I’m usually pretty hungry. Plus, cooking for one is a challenge.”

  She thought about that and nodded. “But I’m here tonight. That makes two, Dad.”

  Luke wasn’t sure he’d heard right. There were any number of words that rhymed with dad—sad, glad, bad, rad. He wanted to ask and make sure she’d just called him that but it would make this a big deal and get weird. The best thing would be to just leave it alone and act cool.

  He almost always went to the store with a list but not this time. This day was all about Emma and letting her pick out whatever she wanted. Was he buying her love? Maybe. But he also wanted to know her likes, dislikes and stuff she wouldn’t eat even for money.

  “Can we get popcorn?” She pointed to a box containing six microwavable bags. “Mommy gets that kind.”

  “Put it in the basket,” he said.

  She smiled from ear to ear and proudly took care of it. “Thanks, Dad.”

  There it was again. As if she’d always been saying it. He was someone’s dad. There should be a band playing, a parade, something to mark this momentous occasion. It had to be enough that all of the above was going on inside him. But he still had to feed her tonight. Preferably a well-balanced meal.

  “I hate to break this to you, kid, but popcorn isn’t dinner. You still haven’t told me what you want.”

  “Because you still haven’t told me what you can cook.”

  “Fair enough.” He thought for a moment. “I grill a lot. Steak, ribs, hamburgers and hot dogs.”

  “Do you burn them?” She wrinkled her nose in disapproval.

  “Not usually.”

  “Mommy likes them that way but I think they’re gross.”

  Luke remembered that. Shelby had managed to sneak out for a Fourth of July picnic at the park. She asked for the most well-done hot dog and he’d teased her about eating charred tubes. She was unaffected by his mocking and savored it while he enjoyed watching her, wanting more than anything to be alone with her. And kiss her until they both lost control. Then his daughter’s voice punctured that sensuous spell.

  “What about spaghetti?” Emma pointed to the pasta on the shelf.

  “That depends. How do you like sauce in a jar?”

  “Grammy uses that and it’s good.” The little girl shrugged.

  As much as he didn’t want to hear anything about what that woman did, he couldn’t afford to ignore the tips. “Should I get some?”

  “No.” She kept walking beside him, her hand on the basket.

  “It’s getting pretty close to decision time. We’re almost out of the store.”

  “What do you feel like?” she asked.

  He felt like he’d missed out on an awful lot. The years when she’d formed her opinions he hadn’t been around.

  The opportunity to have a positive influence had been missed then, but he intended to make up for that now.

  “Dad?”

  Hearing her call him that would never get old. But the question in her voice made Luke glance down. “What?”

  “You have a funny look on your face and you didn’t answer my question.”

  “Sorry. I was thinking about something else and the question was what I want for dinner.” He said the first thing that popped into his mind. “Hamburgers and hot dogs.”

  “That’s what I was going to say.” Her eyes were wide and wondering.

  “It must be a sign.” He grinned down at her and brushed a knuckle across her freckled cheek. “We’ll circle back to the bread aisle and get rolls after we pick up the burgers. Do you like the works on your hot dog?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Mustard, relish, onions, sauerkraut and chili.”

  “No. Mustard.”

  “Okay we need to get some, then. The refrigerator is pretty empty.”

  “I know.” Emma was well on her way to a PhD in sarcasm. “Only takeout boxes.”

  “Right. Don’t judge.”

  They picked up dinner stuff along with fruit and were now eyeing the vegetables. Her eyes said she would rather be in any other aisle.

  He stopped the basket. “How about Brussels sprouts?”

  “No.”


  “Have you ever tried them?” he asked.

  “Once. Sort of. Grammy made me. There was one leaf stuck to my pork chop and it was really gross.”

  “So you didn’t try a whole one?”

  She shook her head. “I thought I was going to throw up.”

  “So that’s a hard negative on Brussels sprouts. Understood.” That one went into the “couldn’t pay her enough to eat them” file. “Good. I don’t know how to cook them.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Were you teasing me?”

  “Maybe.” He grinned. “You’re a smart kid.”

  That put a smile on her face and a skip in her step. The combination made him putty in her hands for the negotiations about chips, ice cream and powdered-sugar donuts for breakfast. After she’d called him dad he would have bought her the moon, but he had a feeling telling her that would be a mistake. After paying for the groceries they headed home and Emma insisted on helping carry everything inside. He had to shift items in the bags to make sure they weren’t too heavy for her. It took longer than if he’d done the hauling himself but he wouldn’t trade the father/daughter teamwork experience for anything.

  Once the bags were in the kitchen she couldn’t be talked out of helping to unpack and put things away. She chattered about school, soccer and her friends. Which was when everything took a turn.

  Emma pulled the package of hot dogs out of a bag. “Karen loves these.”

  “Isn’t she the goalkeeper on your team?”

  “Yes. And she’s my BFF.”

  “BFF? That’s a test, right?” he asked. “You think I don’t know that means best friends forever?”

  “Maybe.” Emma grinned mischievously. “Can she sleep over tonight?”

  Whoa, slow down. Several things ran through Luke’s mind one after the other. This was a more complicated decision than the dinner menu. He wanted to say no—this is my time with you and I’m not sharing. Call me selfish. And finally, WWSD—what would Shelby do?

  Luke thought about the time he’d spent with her and Emma, watching her deal with their daughter. More than once Emma had asked for something out of the blue and her mother automatically said, “Let me think about it.” The words seemed magical. As far as he knew that response stopped everything right there. “Is it okay?” Emma asked again.