Читать книгу Sasha's Dad - Geri Krotow - Страница 10

SASHA LOOKED at her fairy alarm clock. Fifteen minutes until the fairy’s wand hit the twelve and the alarm rang at six sharp. She reached under her bed for her cell phone to see if her best friend, Maddie, had texted her yet. They always checked to see if the other would be at the bus stop.

Her fingers brushed against a familiar organza cloth cover. The big red book.

The big red book was more of an album. It sat in a large, paper-covered box. Her mom had put it together for her before she died. When she gave Sasha the gift, Sasha was only eight. Mom had told her that someday it would help her smile and remember how much Mom loved her.

Sasha kept the box under her bed, but hadn’t opened it in a while. She’d opened it a lot those first few months, that first horrible year. But since her eleventh birthday last year she hadn’t looked at it as often. She still had the last photograph taken of her and Mom on her bulletin board and she looked at that every day.

In the photograph, Sasha sat on the bed next to Mom, whose head was bald, her eyes dark in her pale face. Sometimes the longing overwhelmed Sasha and she cried. But not so much anymore. She would never forget Mom, but as the years went by she was more comfortable with thinking about Mom in heaven, with no chemo, no sickness.

Sasha couldn’t remember a time that her mother hadn’t been sick. Maybe when she was really little, but pretty much since the end of kindergarten Mom had been seeing doctors all the time.

Sasha believed deep in her heart that Mom thought she and Dad should “move on” and get their lives going without worrying about what Mom would think. She wasn’t planning to ask Dad about this—he was too busy with the vet business and now he was worried because Aunt Ginny had to go away to law school and Sasha would be Without a Female Mentor.

A knock at her door startled her.

“Sasha, are you up? You have to take your shower now.”

Sasha glanced at her fairy alarm clock.

She’d stayed in bed ten minutes longer than usual.

“Okay, Aunt Ginny, I’m up.”

“YOU LOOK LIKE HELL.” Dottie Vasquez made the observation as she poured Dutch his third cup of coffee.

“We can’t all look as good as you at six in the morning.” He mustered a smile for the woman who owned the diner. Dottie was his mother’s age, but had the spirit of a teenager.

She smiled back at him. “No, but I’ve seen you looking better, Dutch.” She put the coffeepot on the burner, then returned to chat. The breakfast rush was over for the early farmers, and she had a few minutes’ rest before the next wave of customers came in. Dutch knew this was what Dottie liked more than serving coffee or food to hungry people. She liked to talk—and to listen.

“Word is, the lights were on at the Llama Haven all night.”

Dutch met Dottie’s blue eyes, still bright even surrounded by crow’s-feet. “I swear, Dot, I hope the U.S. government knows where to come when they need information about anything. Do you ever miss a beat?”

His banter didn’t distract Dottie.

“With Charlie and Missy out of town,” she said, referring to the other vet and his wife, “I figured you were over there tending to a birth. Does Dovetail have a new baby llama?”

“As a matter of fact, it has two.” He sipped his coffee. He usually had one or two cups in the morning—his work gave him enough of a jump start. But today he’d needed more.

“Twins?” Dottie’s eyebrows rose and her next question formed on her lips but the diner door flew open and a crowd of truckers tumbled in.

“Hold that thought, Dutch. I want the details.”

Dottie got the crew settled. After she’d put her top waitress on the job, she came back to the counter. Dutch considered using the opportunity to escape, but didn’t. Dottie was harmless and had listened to many of his woes over the years. She was nice to Sasha, too.

But she didn’t sit down next to him again. The diner was hopping with hungry customers.

“Twins?”

Dutch stood and met her gaze. “Yeah, twins—and I’m not sure the little one’s going to make it. I need to get back out there and check up on her.”

“I imagine it’s easier for you and Claire to get along when you both have something to focus on.”

Dottie didn’t have to explain. Dutch knew.

Other than yourselves, your history.

He shrugged on his coat, pulled out his wallet.

“Exactly.” He put down the money, as always with a generous tip. Dutch appreciated being able to stay in a small town and raise his daughter here, and he was more than willing to pay for it. He knew Dottie had lost business since they put in that big national franchise breakfast place off the highway, but she’d kept her prices reasonable and still served the best coffee this side of Chesapeake Bay.

“See you later, Dot.”

“See you.”

Dutch walked out into the parking lot and looked up at the sky. There was nothing like a Maryland sunrise, and today’s had been no exception. The last remaining streaks of pink and purple faded into the clear sky, harbinger of another cold, windy day.

He got into the front seat of his truck and glanced at the clock as he switched on the ignition. If he was lucky he’d make it home in time to sit with Sasha through her breakfast.

Then he’d have to return to check on the cria. And face Claire’s wary green eyes, her hesitant behavior around him.

“Good. Keeps her on her toes,” he muttered to himself as he turned into his driveway.

“SASHA, TIME TO get out!” Sasha heard Aunt Ginny’s voice through the bathroom door and turned off the shower.

“Okay!” Sasha buried her face in her towel.

She was going to miss Aunt Ginny, who’d told Sasha last week that it was time for all of them to move on. Dutch was Aunt Ginny’s older brother, but she’d been like a big sister to him and Sasha these past few years.

At first, Sasha didn’t like it when Aunt Ginny had said their house felt like Mom was still here. Ginny had come to live with them toward the end of Natalie’s life, when hospice had taken over, and Sasha remembered spending lots of time with her aunt. But lately Sasha had started thinking maybe Aunt Ginny was right. Her friends whose parents were divorced had either bought new houses or fixed up their old ones. And they got new husbands or wives.

Daddy didn’t act as though he ever wanted a new wife, not even a girlfriend. He said he never wanted to forget Mom. Neither did Sasha.

But a new mom might not be so bad.

She had distinct memories of Mom and of her dying—the days Mom spent lying on the couch and on what Sasha knew was a hospital bed. But somehow Aunt Ginny had helped it not be too sad. Sasha remembered the times when no one could stop the sad stuff. Like when Mom had bad reactions to the medicine or when it got really close to the end and all she did was sleep. She seemed to fade away that last summer.

Sasha was so glad Aunt Ginny had stayed. She was going to miss her, but she was also looking forward to being alone with Dad. Whenever Aunt Ginny had to go to Baltimore or on trips with her study group, Sasha had liked the father-daughter time with Dad. Plus she loved being with him on his job. She loved animals at least as much as he did.

Sasha hurried down the stairs and hit the wide-plank pine flooring of the hallway. Rascal clipped along beside her, trying to herd her into the kitchen.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Aunt Ginny met her halfway and hugged her tight. Sasha was eleven, almost twelve, but never tired of Aunt Ginny’s hugs or kisses.

Aunt Ginny pulled back a bit and looked into Sasha’s eyes. Aunt Ginny had Dad’s deep blue eyes, which Sasha often wished she had, too. Instead, she’d inherited her Mom’s brown eyes, which Dad and Aunt Ginny told her were beautiful and she’d be grateful for when she got older.

“What?” She hated it when Aunt Ginny looked at her for too long.

“How are you today? Good?”

“Yeah.” Sasha squirmed out of Aunt Ginny’s arms and went over to the counter. Someone had cleaned it up and put all the appliances away.

“Where’s the toaster?” Aunt Ginny never put things back in the same place twice.

“Under the counter. I bought some cinnamon waffles yesterday.”

“Thanks!” Sasha loved it when Aunt Ginny did the grocery shopping. Dad was more practical and would’ve bought plain waffles or no waffles at all—just some regular bread for toasting.

Sasha saw all the thick books Aunt Ginny had on the breakfast counter.

“Are you still studying?” She thought Aunt Ginny’s exams were over.

“I’m reviewing. When I start law school, I’ll be expected to be on top of all these subjects.”

“Huh.” Sasha enjoyed school and homework, but didn’t know how adults stayed awake when they were reading such thick books with all that small type.

Aunt Ginny was almost done with her bachelor’s degree. She’d done it from Dovetail, going into College Park as needed. Dad said Aunt Ginny had made a Great Sacrifice for them. Now she had to go live in Baltimore and go to the university there for law school. She’d be leaving soon to attend a spring review class before courses started at the end of the summer.

“Where’s Daddy?” Sasha spread peanut butter on her waffle. Aunt Ginny had sat down with her coffee and books.

“He got a late-night call.”

As soon as the words were out, Rascal whimpered and ran to the kitchen door. Sasha heard the slam as her dad got out of his truck.

“Daddy!” Sasha went over to the door as Dutch opened it and jumped at him. He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a hug.

“Hi, sweetheart. You smell like a bunch of flowers.” He tugged at Sasha’s still-damp hair.

“It’s the shampoo Aunt Ginny got for me last Christmas.”

“Is it?”

Sasha nodded, then finished making her breakfast. Dad looked tired—his eyes were deep in his face and the lines around them made him seem like he was squinting.

“What happened?” Aunt Ginny must have noticed, too.

“Twin llama birth. One’s fine, the mother will hopefully be okay, but I don’t know about the second one. She’s really small and it’s going to be touch and go for a few days.”

“Can I go see them with you?”

“No.” Dutch’s response was immediate and it hurt. She hated when he was like this.

“Well, excuse me.” She shoved a bite of waffle into her mouth.

She heard her dad sigh, then he walked back to her.

“I’m sorry, Sash.” He tousled her hair. “I’ve been up all night, and I haven’t had an easy time of it. Of course you can go see the llamas, but not today. Let’s give them all a chance to settle in, okay?”

“Sure.” Sasha took her waffle and sat on a stool at the counter. “Do you want a waffle, Daddy?”

“No, thanks, sugarplum. I ate at Dot’s, before you were even out of bed. But I’ll sit with you, if that’s okay.”

“Okay. Wait! Let me go get my essay that I’m handing in today. You can read it over for me.” Sasha ran up the back stairs to her room. She heard Aunt Ginny laugh at her excitement.

What were they going to do when Aunt Ginny wasn’t there to calm Dad down?

GINNY TURNED to Dutch, before Sasha bounded back into the kitchen.

“How’d it go?”

Dutch screwed up his face and frowned at his baby sister, who looked so innocent with her widened eyes and lifted brows. But he knew she wasn’t asking about the llamas, not really.

“Fine. Awful. I hated it. I’m glad I saved the twin and, I hope, the dam.” He stared down at the floor.

“I can’t look at that woman without remembering, without seeing the pain on Natalie’s face when her calls weren’t returned.”

“I know.” Ginny’s voice was soft. She’d seen it, too. Claire and Natalie had been closer than sisters through grade school and high school. The only thing that had ever come between them was a boy.

Dutch.

“I don’t get it, Ginny. How someone so smart can be so stupid, especially with her friend, her family.” He couldn’t believe he was sharing so much with Ginny, but he blamed it on exhaustion.

“Sounds like she’s learned something,” Ginny said, giving him a level gaze. “She quit the press corps when her mom got sick, helped her mother through her heart surgery, and she’s stayed here even though she doesn’t need to anymore. She’s serious about making a go of it, Dutch. It’s been two years already.”

“Trust me, Ginny, if Claire Renquist has stayed in Dovetail, or anywhere, it’s for her benefit and hers alone. Claire doesn’t do anything solely for others. That part of her died a long time ago.” He snorted.

If it ever existed.

Ginny laughed, but not with any hint of sarcasm.

“Do you want some lemon with those bitters? Jeeze, Dutch, let it go. Some people do change.”

He grunted. He wanted to say “not Claire” but Ginny had a point. He’d turned into a crusty old man at the age of thirty-four.

Ginny had been a kid when Dutch and Claire dated, and not much older when they broke up. Dutch had married Natalie right out of college. He’d only recently told Ginny that he and Natalie had a pregnancy scare way back in high school after that fateful night during senior year. The night that ended any remaining relationship he’d had with Claire and permanently ruined Natalie and Claire’s childhood bond.

“Look, Daddy.” Sasha, back downstairs, slid onto the stool next to Dutch. He read her essay with one arm around her. He loved the fact that she still snuggled close, their two heads bent over the paper, the comfortable intimacy between daughter and dad.

Dutch knew he needed to learn to be comfortable with other people, too. It was more than three years now—Natalie was at peace, and he wanted to find some peace for himself.

He looked up at Ginny as she watched him and Sasha. He could read her mind.

They’d been alone too long, he and Sasha.

“Don’t get any ideas, Ginny.” He tried to act as if he was focused on Sasha’s essay, but few knew him better than Ginny.

“What kind of ideas?” Sasha piped in.

“Matchmaking ideas, honey.” Ginny sipped her coffee. “Your dad’s worried I’ll try to set him up with someone.” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Do you mean like on a date?” Sasha’s interested was piqued.

“This is adult conversation, Sasha.” Dutch stared hard at Ginny. He loved his kid sister, but she was like every other female when it came to romance.

She thought everyone needed it.

Ginny, of course, ignored him. “Yes, Sasha, like a date,” she said. “Your dad could benefit from adult female companionship.”

“Ginny!” Dutch growled, but the edge in his voice masked the nervous twist in his gut. What did he have to be anxious about? Ginny was the one acting weird.

“Don’t ‘Ginny’ me, Dutch. Sasha’s old enough to understand this conversation, aren’t you, honey?”

“Yup!” Sasha’s head bobbed enthusiastically. She looked sideways at Dutch. The female gleam in her eyes made him laugh in spite of himself.

“Aunt Ginny’s right, Dad. You need a woman.”