Читать книгу Full-Time Father - Сьюзен Мэллери, Susan Mallery - Страница 8

“Is he really my daddy?” Christie asked from the passenger seat.

“Yes, honey.”

Christie took a deep breath and let it out all at once, curling up her lower lip so the air rushed up her face and lifted her bangs. She giggled as the delicate hairs danced before settling back on her forehead.

“But he didn’t know he was my daddy before you told him today.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because Stacey didn’t tell him about you.”

“And you didn’t know about him?”

“Right.”

“Couldn’t he see me when I was in her tummy?”

“Stacey left his house before you were big enough to see.”

“How did I get in her tummy?”

Erin gripped the steering wheel tightly and resisted the urge to groan. As if there wasn’t enough going on, now Christie wanted to talk about where babies came from.

“Oh, look, you can see the ocean,” she said enthusiastically, trying to distract Christie.

It worked. The four-year-old peered over the dashboard and grinned. “It’s blue and goes forever. Does the ocean end?”

“The water doesn’t stop in one place and start in another, but it gets a new name.”

Christie glanced up at her and wrinkled her nose. “The water has a name?”

“Uh-huh. It’s the Pacific Ocean.”

Christie mulled that over for a minute. Erin gave her a quick look. Her daughter had been asking questions from the moment she learned how to string words together. Her adventurous spirit was pure Stacey. Erin liked to think that Christie had gotten her quick intelligence from their side of the family as well, but after researching Parker Hamilton, she had to admit he probably had something to do with that.

He’d also given his daughter several of her physical characteristics, including the shape of her mouth and her smile. But her dimples were a Ridgeway legacy. Erin thought she and Christie moved the same way, and her daughter had the same habit of tilting her head to one side. Of course those traits could have been learned, not inherited.

The road narrowed and Erin concentrated on her driving. Parker Hamilton lived several miles outside of town. The turnoff for the private road was sudden and not well marked. From there she had a two-mile drive to the house itself. She wouldn’t want to try to find it in the dark, or during a storm. At first she’d wondered why anyone would live in such isolation, but after seeing the house, she knew why.

Hawkin’s Point was the most beautiful place she’d ever seen. The old-fashioned three-story home rose out of the grass, trees and bright flowers as if it were a magical castle. Peaked roofs topped wide windows and long balconies. The wooden structure blended with the environment, yet had enough fantasy in its design that her first thought had been she could blink and it would be gone.

Stacey had mentioned falling in love with the house in her diary and Erin understood completely. Hawkin’s Point was the kind of place the sisters had dreamed of when they’d been young and were shuffled back and forth between relatives.

“Does my daddy have other little girls?” Christie asked.

The question startled Erin. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.” She thought for a moment. She didn’t remember seeing any toys around.

She knew he wasn’t married. As soon as she’d found his name in Stacey’s diary, she’d started investigating Parker Hamilton. He’d been a big shot in the computer world and the magazine article index in the library had given her a place to begin. She’d read about the start-up of his company while he was still in college. She knew about his rise to the top of his field, that he’d sold his company for a huge but undisclosed sum and that he continued to work on software.

The personal information had been scant, but she’d picked up the essentials. He was a widower and, as of the last article written about three months before, he’d never remarried. But no one had said anything about children.

Up ahead was the turnoff. Erin put on her signal and slowed the car. There wasn’t much traffic up here. When she’d checked to make sure the way was clear, she turned onto the private road and started down the long paved driveway. The car windows were already rolled down. She inhaled deeply and caught the scent of salt air.

“Can you smell the ocean?” she asked.

Christie took a breath, then giggled. “What does it smell like?”

“Salt, sunshine.”

“You can’t smell sunshine.”

“Sure you can.”

Christie looked skeptical. “It’s nice here,” she said. “At home it’s so hot.”

“You’re right. It’s probably going to be over a hundred back there.”

“Two hundred!” Christie said and bounced in her seat. She quieted quickly and smoothed the seat belt over her chest. “My daddy lives far from me.”

“Yes, he does.”

Erin wondered if Christie was going to ask how they were going to work that out, but then she figured that was a fairly complex thought for a four-year-old. Erin was twenty-seven and she didn’t know exactly how she was going to handle this difficult situation. She’d come up with a very logical plan, but life had taught her that the most logical solution wasn’t always the one chosen.

They wound along the narrow paved road. Tall trees and lush bushes grew on either side. In another couple of minutes, they broke through and could see the house.

“It’s big, Mommy,” Christie breathed, staring at the three-story mansion.

“I know. And it’s very pretty. Can you see the sunlight on the windows? It makes them look like jewels.”

“I like that.”

Erin glanced at the wood-and-glass structure. Once again her breath caught as she experienced the peculiar sensation of arriving at the one place she’d been searching for all her life. No wonder Stacey had fallen in love with the house and the owner. Erin was far more sensible and even she felt drawn in.

She parked in front of the house and turned off the engine. Christie clicked open her seat belt and bounced impatiently on the seat, but she didn’t open the door. She knew she wasn’t allowed outside until she was let out.

Erin stepped onto the driveway and inhaled the scent of the ocean. It was stronger here and in the still afternoon, she could hear the crash of the waves. She, her friend Joyce, and Christie had taken the coast route up. The farther north they’d driven, the more the beaches had changed. In Southern California there were long stretches of sand, with the coast highway running alongside. In the north, sandy beaches gave way to rocky shores. Large boulders jutted out of the water, moss-covered sentinels warning off the unwelcome. High cliffs soared over the ocean. Fog was a frequent visitor, adding to the character and mood of the location, if not to the temperature.

Erin walked around the car and let Christie out. Her daughter danced with excitement. “Does my daddy really live here? Does he have the whole house? Can I see every room?”

Erin laughed. “Let’s take those one at a time. Yes, your daddy really lives here and he owns the whole house. It’s very beautiful. I’m sure if you ask, he’ll be happy to show you around.”

Before she could continue, the front door opened and Parker Hamilton stepped out. Erin touched Christie’s shoulder, then glanced down and gave her a reassuring smile.

“Is that him?” Christie asked softly.

“Yes.”

Christie looked at Parker again, then up at her mother. “He looks nice,” she said in a stage whisper.

Erin gave her a little nudge. “Why don’t we go and say hello?”

Christie took her mother’s hand and started across the driveway. Parker waited for them in the doorway. His gaze settled on the child.

Erin wondered what he was thinking. She tried to imagine what she would be thinking at a time like this, but her brain wasn’t working, even though there was no reason for it not to. Parker might be fairly good-looking with dark hair and dark eyes, but he wasn’t stunningly handsome. She tried to figure out what it was about him that made her stomach twitch.

He wore his hair short, barely brushing the collar of his white shirt. The top two buttons were undone and the sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, but that wasn’t especially provocative. Well-worn jeans hugged narrow hips and lean thighs. His legs were long and his white athletic shoes had seen better days. Her research told her he was worth more money than most people could spend in a lifetime, but he looked like an ordinary guy.

So why had her hand tingled when he’d taken it in his? Why had she found it tough to breathe or even think rationally? It must have been nerves. She wasn’t the romantic impulsive sister. That had always been Stacey.

As they neared the house, Parker took a step toward them, then hesitated. He looked uncertain. Erin realized he didn’t know what to say to his daughter. A little over four years ago, she’d been just as terrified.

Christie pursed her lips. “Are you really my daddy?”

Parker nodded and squatted down so they were at eye level. “Yes, Christie. My name is Parker Hamilton.”

“Shouldn’t I call you Daddy?”

His dark gaze raised to hers, as if asking her opinion. Erin smiled. “It makes sense to me.”

“Okay,” Parker said, his voice thick. Emotions chased across his face—confusion, terror, wonder. Erin knew just how he felt. At least when she’d found out about Christie, the girl had been an infant, not a fully formed person with independent ideas and opinions.

“Didn’t you know about me, Daddy?”

He shook his head. “Not until today.” Slowly he reached out his hand and touched her cheek.

“Are you glad?” Christie asked, cutting to the heart of the matter as usual.

“Oh, yes. I’m very glad.”

“Good. Me, too.” She gave him her best smile, the one she used to get her way. Erin was immune, but it worked like magic on Parker.

He knelt on the flagstone porch and opened his arms to gather the little girl close. She went willingly, flinging herself at him and holding on tight.

Erin watched them cling to each other. She’d prepared herself for this moment, but even so she felt a twinge of sadness. Nothing was ever going to be the same again. She and Christie were no longer just two against the world.

She studied them, the tall man and the little girl. Sunlight illuminated their heads. Parker’s hair was dark brown with no hint of any other colors. Christie’s was lighter and showed the reddish tint shared by Erin and Stacey.

Parker’s large hands dwarfed the child. He could span her back from shoulders to hip. She’d insisted on wearing her favorite shorts set for the visit—lime green shorts and a T-shirt covered with cartoon fish. Matching green ribbons held her hair in pigtails.

Christie stepped back a little and smiled. “You smell nice. Different from Mommy.”

Erin agreed. When she’d first come to the house and spoken with him, she’d noticed the faint fragrance of his spicy after-shave and the musky undertone of pure male.

There was a sound in the foyer of the house. Erin saw the housekeeper hovering in the background. Parker saw her, too, and rose to his feet. “Kiki, this is my daughter. Christie, this is Kiki. She takes care of things here.”

“Hi.” Christie studied her for a moment. “That’s a pretty color,” she said, motioning to the brightly colored jogging suit the woman wore. “Are you my daddy’s mother?”

Kiki smiled. She looked to be in her mid-fifties, with short blond hair and bright blue eyes. Her smile was warm as she bent toward the child. “I’m the housekeeper, Christie. I’m in charge of the cooking and I look after your father. Do you like cookies?”

“Yes.” Christie nodded vigorously.

“I’ve just taken some from the oven. Would you like to help me bring them to the terrace?” Kiki turned to Erin. “If you don’t mind.”

Erin glanced at Parker. He looked a little shell-shocked. They both needed a moment to catch their breath. “It’s fine. Go on, honey, but you behave.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

Christie took the hand Kiki held out and skipped next to her as they moved down the hallway. When they had disappeared, Parker shook his head, as if clearing it.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Fine.” He glanced at her. “She’s amazing.”

“Oh, she has her moments. Don’t let the charming smile fool you. Christie is a bright, curious and very sweet-natured child, but she also has her share of faults.”

Parker stared after the girl for a moment, then seemed to remember his manners. He stepped back and motioned to the house. “Please come inside,” he said, then closed the door behind her.

He escorted her to the terrace. His fingers rested on the small of her back. Erin swore she could feel the heat of that light touch clear down to her toes. The accompanying shiver made her nervous, but she was determined to ignore the sensations.

The table they’d sat at before had been covered with a white linen cloth and set with dessert plates, flatware and glasses.

“Kiki is preparing an assortment of treats for Christie,” Parker said, holding out a seat for Erin. “She’s spent the last three hours in a cooking frenzy.”

“I wish she hadn’t bothered,” Erin said. “Christie isn’t a fussy eater. Anything that remotely resembles dessert is fine with her.”

He took the seat opposite and leaned forward. One corner of his mouth quirked up in a deprecating half smile. “I don’t know where to begin.”

“I know this is very sudden,” she said. “Why don’t you let me tell you about the two of us, and when you think of a question, you can ask?”

“Sounds great.”

His dark eyes mesmerized her and she couldn’t look away. You’re acting like a fool, she told herself firmly, mentally using the same tone she used when her daughter was misbehaving. Unfortunately it didn’t work nearly as well.

With a conscious act of will, she shifted her gaze to the view beyond the terrace. The sky was a typical brilliant shade of California blue. The Pacific Ocean twinkled, the swaying waves sparkling with light.

“We live in Palmdale,” she said. “You couldn’t find a place more different from this and still stay in the same state.”

“Where is Palmdale? I’m not familiar with the name.”

“Most people aren’t. It’s in the high desert, about ninety miles north of Los Angeles. Remember where they used to land the space shuttle?”

He nodded.

“That’s by us. It’s cold and windy in the winter and hot and windy in the summer. You know, a hundred and ten, with zero humidity.”

He frowned. Well-shaped dark eyebrows drew together. “I think Stacey might have mentioned something about it. I can’t remember. But she didn’t go to a university there. I recruited most of my interns from Stanford.”

“Stacey was at Stanford.” Erin bit back a sigh. There hadn’t been enough money for both of them to go to an expensive university, so they’d compromised. Stacey had gone to Stanford, while Erin had attended a local state college. When they both graduated, Erin was to have applied for a graduate degree. But that had never happened. Stacey had died and Erin had been responsible for a newborn. There hadn’t been time for graduate school.

“She calls you ‘Mommy,’” he said.

“Christie knows that Stacey is her birth mother. As much as she can, after all she’s only four and the concept of death is difficult to comprehend. She knows that we’re twins and look alike. She’s seen the photos. But I’ve raised her from the day she was born. Make no mistake, Christie is my daughter.”

She made the statement quietly but firmly. She’d wrestled with this for a long time, wondering if she was doing the right thing by letting Christie think of her as her mother. Then she’d realized she didn’t have a choice. Stacey was gone forever and Erin was the only mother Christie would ever know.

“I’m not judging you,” he said. “I think you made the right decision. I’m still having a hell of a time with this.”

There was a noise by the far door. It opened and Christie stepped out, proudly carrying a tray covered with cookies.

Parker stared at her. “Five hours ago I didn’t know she existed and now she’s here.”

Erin glanced at his strong profile and the obvious pride in his expression. She’d wondered what the reclusive man would think and say when he found out about his child. She hadn’t expected him to be quite this pleased. Not that his feelings changed anything. She was still going to stick to her original plan. Christie deserved to know her father and Parker had the right to get to know his daughter. As long as a few simple rules were followed, everything should be fine.

Christie made it all the way across the terrace without spilling a single cookie. Kiki followed behind with a pitcher of lemonade.

“I tasted the chocolate chips cookies,” Christie said as she handed her mother the tray. “They’re ‘licious.”

“I can tell.” Erin set the tray on the table, then leaned forward and wiped a few remaining crumbs from the corner of her daughter’s mouth. “How many did you taste?”

“Just one,” Kiki said as she poured lemonade into three glasses. She gave Erin a quick wink. “She tried to convince me she was starving.”

“We just had lunch,” Erin said.

“I was starving. For cookies.” Christie grinned.

Parker grabbed a handful. “I’m hungry enough to eat anything. Someone here forgot about my lunch.”

Kiki turned to him and covered her mouth with her fingers. She shook her head. “Parker, I’m sorry. I was so busy making the cookies and lemonade.”

“Yeah, yeah, no problem. Maybe you could make me a sandwich or something.”

“Sure.” She took two steps, then paused. “Erin, can I get you a sandwich, too?”

“I’m fine.”

Kiki returned to the kitchen. Christie scrambled into the seat between Parker and Erin. She picked up her glass of lemonade with both hands and took a drink. Some of the liquid ran down her chin and onto her shirtfront. Erin wiped it away with a napkin.

Christie set the glass down and grinned. “I’ve never had a mommy and a daddy before.”

Erin brushed the girl’s bangs off her forehead. “You’re going to milk this for all it’s worth, aren’t you?”

“It’s not milk, it’s lemonade,” Christie said, pointing to the pitcher. “Can I have some more, please?”

“I’ll get it.” Parker reached for the pitcher and filled her glass.

“And cookies.”

“Just one,” Erin told her.

Parker handed the child the plate. Christie took one, then reached for a second. “I’d like two.”

Parker stared at the girl, then looked at Erin. “I—”

“I warned you about her,” she said, and took the plate from him. “One,” she repeated.

Christie stuck out her lower lip, but didn’t say anything. She’d learned that whining usually resulted in her losing the treat she already had.

“I was telling your father about where we live,” Erin said. “Why don’t you tell him about your preschool?”

Parker broke one of his cookies in half. “You go to school?”

“Every day. I’m very smart. When I grow up I’m going to be smarter than everyone. Except Mommy.” She paused and studied him. “Are you smarter than Mommy?”

Parker had popped half the cookie into his mouth and started to chew. He tried to swallow it quickly and only succeeded in choking. As he coughed, Erin handed him his lemonade. He took a sip, coughed again, then said weakly, “What was the question?”

“Are you smarter than Mommy?”

“Think before you answer that,” Erin said, then took a small bite of her cookie. It was still warm and the chocolate chips were soft and sweet.

“I probably know more about computers than she does,” he said carefully. “But she knows more about other things.”

“Nice save,” Erin said.

He flashed her a grin.

The cookie turned to tasteless crumbs in her mouth as a bolt of awareness slammed into her chest and roared down to her toes. She blinked, waiting for it to go away, or at least fade. It did neither. Instead she was acutely aware of Parker and a sensation in her chest that felt suspiciously like heat.

So the man was vaguely attractive. So he was nice to Christie. So he had a sense of humor. It was the salt air, or the cookies, or the sunshine. It was the fact that she’d spent the past four years getting her teaching credential, finding a job and being a single mom. She hadn’t had the time nor energy to think about having a man in her life. Something long dead was finally coming to life. Nothing more. Really.

Christie munched on her cookie. “Do you have a dog?” she asked, giving her mother a sideways glance.

Christie had been angling for a puppy of her own for nearly a year. Erin understood the girl wanting one, but life was hectic enough without adding more responsibility.

“No, sorry,” Parker said.

“Dogs are very nice.”

“I’m sure they are.” He looked faintly confused. “Do you have a dog?”

Christie raised her shoulders and let go with an exaggerated sigh. “No. Maybe when I’m older.” She took a drink. “Do you have any other little girls you don’t know you have?”

This time he was drinking instead of chewing when he started to choke. He coughed for a few minutes, then cleared his throat.

“This seems to be a chronic problem for you,” Erin said, refilling his glass.

“It’s very recent,” he said and coughed again. “No, Christie, I don’t have any other little girls.”

“So I’m your ownliest daughter?”

“Yes.”

She wrinkled her nose, then tilted her head so one of her pigtails brushed against her shoulder. “It would be very nice to have someone to play with.”

“I don’t know of any other children around here. I can ask Kiki.”

“If there aren’t children, I could play with a puppy.”

“Enough about the puppy,” Erin said.

“It wouldn’t have to be very big.”

“Christie!” she said sternly.

“Yes, Mommy. I’ll be good.” She glanced at Parker out of the corner of her eye. “Sometimes I’m a handful.”

“I’ll bet.”

Father and daughter smiled at each other.

Since finding her sister’s diary, Erin had spent several sleepless nights wondering if she was doing the right thing. Everything she’d read about Parker Hamilton had convinced her he was a decent man and that he would want to know about his child. She’d been concerned about his reaction and a little nervous about allowing someone into the special world she’d built with her daughter. But now, staring at the two of them, seeing the similarities and differences, she knew she’d made the right decision.

Everything was going to work out perfectly.