311 Pelican Court (14 page)

It used to be that she sought out reasons for Zach to drop her off. They’d chat and he’d tease her about her outrageous music and she’d call him a geek. Her teasing didn’t offend him because those were good times with his daughter. Now he barely recognized the girl she’d become.

For the second time that morning, a sick feeling came over him. “I don’t know where she’d be,” he said before the school secretary could ask the next obvious question. But by heaven, he’d find her. And when he did, Zach would see to it that she never pulled this kind of stunt again.

“That’s your concern, Mr. Cox, not ours.”

He knew that, but he was already flustered by Janice’s resignation. Now his daughter had made it her personal mission to screw up the rest of his day.

“What are the consequences of her skipping classes?” he asked.

“Is this her first offense?” Mrs. Duncan asked. She paused and seemed to be scanning a chart or a computer screen. “Ah, I see here that it is. Has there been any upheaval in the family lately, Mr. Cox?”

“My wife and I were recently divorced.”

“That will do it. Well, I hope you can get the situation with Allison squared away.”

“Will she have any detentions?”

“Not for the first offense. She’ll need to attend Saturday school if it happens again.”

It wouldn’t; Zach would make sure of that.

“A third time means automatic suspension.”

“There won’t be a second or a third time,” Zach assured her.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Cox.”

“So am I,” he muttered as he replaced the receiver. He didn’t remove his hand and automatically dialed South Ridge Elementary, where Rosie was currently teaching fifth grade. She’d just been hired onto the permanent staff, which was both a blessing and a curse. It meant longer hours and more preparation time. He knew from Eddie’s comments that Rosie was often exhausted at the end of the day.

“This is Zachary Cox. Would it be possible to speak to
my wife?” he asked the school secretary, not remembering until after he’d spoken that he was no longer married to Rosie. “It’s important.”

“Please hold.”

He must have waited five minutes before Rosie picked up the extension. “Zach,” she said, alarm in her voice. “What is it?”

“Allison skipped school.”

“What?” Rosie was as shocked as he was. “Today?”

“That’s right. She conveniently missed the bus, but I insisted on dropping her off. I should’ve known something was up, because she wasn’t happy with my offer to chauffeur her.”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t have a clue.” His initial reaction had been anger, but now he was alarmed. Allison was fifteen years old. His mind whirled with countless possibilities, none of them pleasant.

“I’ll meet you at the house as soon as I can.”

“You can leave the school?”

“I can if it’s a family emergency, and if this doesn’t qualify, I don’t know what does.”

Zach got to the house ten minutes before Rosie did. Zach watched her pull into the driveway; the car jerked forward as she stepped hard on the brakes. The driver’s door was open before the engine was completely dead.

“We need to call Hannah’s mother,” she said as she rushed past him and into the house.

Zach hated letting Rosie see what a mess the house was. After all the complaints he’d made about her housekeeping skills, the state of the living room was embarrassing. Thankfully she barely noticed as she ran into the kitchen and opened the drawer below the telephone, which was mounted on the wall.

She rummaged through the drawer until she found the address book. Then she squared her shoulders and lifted the receiver from its cradle.

The transformation was truly amazing. As soon as the other woman—presumably Hannah’s mother—answered the phone, it seemed Rosie didn’t have a care in the world.

“Hello, Jane…yes, I know it’s been ages. Good to hear your voice, too.”

Rosie caught Zach’s gaze and rolled her eyes. He smiled for the first time that day. Grabbing a kitchen chair, he straddled it as Rosie did her investigative work.

“I understand Hannah and Allison are in the same algebra class. Yes, she’s doing really well. She has her father’s head for numbers. I think she’ll probably be put in the advanced class next tri.”

If that was true, it was news to Zach. The last school papers he’d found—by accident, when Allison had left them on the kitchen table—gave every indication that she was close to flunking out of math class.

“I heard Hannah went to Homecoming with J. T. Manners. Isn’t he a friend of Ryan Wilson’s?”

Zach watched as Rosie made a few murmurs of agreement. Her eyes narrowed and she reached for a pencil and hurriedly wrote something down. Zach stood and looked over her shoulder. In an instant his anger flared back to life. Rosie had written: She took the ferry to Seattle.

The very thought of his daughter wandering around downtown Seattle by herself was enough to make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. A second or two later, he realized Allison probably
wasn’t
alone. That no-good biker-wannabe boyfriend was most likely with her.

After a few more minutes, Rosie replaced the receiver.

“How do you know she’s in Seattle?” he demanded.

“Jane sings like a canary the minute she knows she has an audience. She knew and was dying to tell me.”

“Hannah isn’t with her?”

“Who knows.” Rosie was angry, too. She started suddenly for the front door.

“Where are you going?” Zach asked.

“To move my car. I want the two of us to be waiting here when she comes sneaking back.”

Zach liked the idea of lying in wait for Allison. It was the best way he could think of to prove to his rebellious daughter that she wasn’t going to outsmart him.

A few minutes later, a breathless Rosie returned. She took the chair across from him and exhaled slowly. They sat in the kitchen without speaking for five minutes. Ten… The silence felt strange and awkward, as though each was afraid of bringing up the subject of their difficult daughter. Zach knew he was. If they started talking, he might have to admit the role he’d played in this mess.

Furthermore, Zach wasn’t sure what to say, especially after his enlightening conversation with Janice that morning. Apparently Rosie didn’t, either. When he thought he couldn’t sit still a moment longer, Zach stood and began straightening up the living room. Rosie tackled the kitchen, which was in even worse shape. Once he’d finished vacuuming, he moved into the kitchen. They worked side by side for an hour.

“You hungry?” Rosie asked.

Zach hadn’t thought about it, but now that she asked, he realized he was. “A little.”

“How about a ham sandwich?”

He shrugged.

“Do you want a slice of pineapple to go with it?”

“And cream cheese?” he asked hopefully. When they’d
first started dating Rosie had invented the sandwich and it was his all-time favorite. He couldn’t remember when he’d last had one.

As Rosie put the sandwiches on plates, he got cold sodas from the refrigerator, and they sat down across from each other again. Searching for possible topics of conversation, Zach almost mentioned that Janice had handed in her notice. He bit his tongue before he could make such a foolish mistake. Rosie would certainly gloat over that information. She was apparently dating this widower now, and the relationship must be going well. She might be stressed and tired, but he’d never seen her look better. He glanced away before she caught him staring at her.

They heard the front door open, followed by the sound of teenage laughter.

Zach and Rosie were instantly on their feet. They hurried into the living room and discovered Allison, another girl Zach didn’t recognize—possibly Hannah—and Allison’s so-called boyfriend. The three teens froze when they saw Zach and Rosie.

“What do you want?” Allison demanded, glaring defiantly back at them.

“I think it would be best if your friends left now,” Zach said.

“They can stay if they want.”

“I don’t think so.” If she was looking for a standoff in their battle of wills, Zach figured he had the advantage. He stalked over to the front door and opened it wide. “Nice seeing you both, don’t come back again unless invited.” He raised his eyebrows. “Do I make myself clear?”

Ryan nodded and edged toward the front door as though he couldn’t get away fast enough. The other girl looked unsure, then decided leaving was probably her best option.

“Where have you been?” Zach snapped.

Rosie stepped forward. “Don’t give her the opportunity to lie, Zach,” she said, sounding perfectly calm and reasonable. He, on the other hand, was furious and not afraid to show it.

“Why should I tell you?” Allison muttered. She crossed her arms and stared angrily at them both.

“You skipped school and took the ferry over to Seattle.”

That her mother knew was clearly a shock to Allison. The girl’s lips curled as if she were about to ask where Rosie had uncovered that information, but she stopped herself before the question had formed.

“You’re going to have to be smarter than this if you want to fool your parents,” Rosie said smoothly.

Zach was grateful that Rosie was the one doing the talking. In his present frame of mind, he was useless. The urge to take Allison by the shoulders and give her a good shake was almost overwhelming. He’d been worried sick. Apparently she didn’t know what she’d put her parents through; furthermore, she didn’t care. That was the crux of the matter. She didn’t give a damn, and he said as much before he could censor the words.

“That was a crazy, selfish stunt you pulled, and I’m here to tell you it won’t be happening again.”

Allison’s eyes flared with defiance. “I hate you!” she shouted. “I hate you both.”

“You can hate me all you want, but you’ll respect the rules of this family.”

“This family,” she echoed. “
What
family? You destroyed our family.” She pointed at Zach and then Rosie. “
Both
of you destroyed our family. I hate you—I hate both of you for what you did.” Whirling around, she raced toward her bedroom and slammed the door with enough force to rattle the pictures on the wall. The eight-by-ten family portrait, taken
two years previously, swung violently and then crashed to the floor. The glass shattered.

Silence ensued, and Zach collected his breath. “Well,” he murmured, “that’s that.” He wasn’t proud of the way he’d lost his composure. In fact, he didn’t feel proud of much at the moment.

At least Rosie had been with him when he’d confronted Allison and they’d faced her united. She was much better at this sort of thing than he was. His ex-wife knew what to say. He didn’t.

After a few minutes, Rosie gathered her purse and coat and started for the front door. She seemed reluctant to leave and he was equally unwilling to let her go.

“Thanks,” he said, walking with her. “You handled the situation ten times better than I could have. I’m grateful you were here.”

She shrugged, dismissing his praise.

The irony didn’t hit him until after Rosie was gone. It seemed that they got along a whole lot better since they were divorced than they had while they were married.

S
aturday morning a week before Thanksgiving, Maryellen woke with a mission. Her nails were a mess. She was badly in need of a manicure and polish, and felt eternally grateful that she’d managed to book an appointment with Rachel at Get Nailed. Because Jon’s days off changed from week to week, Maryellen was never entirely sure when to schedule an appointment. As soon as she learned he’d be taking Katie on Saturday morning, she’d phoned the salon. Rachel could do her nails but didn’t have a free slot to trim her hair.

Maryellen never seemed to have time for herself anymore. Being a single mother and holding down a job was much more demanding than she’d ever envisioned. It wasn’t uncommon for Katie to wake up once and sometimes twice a night. If it hadn’t been for Jon taking their daughter on random evenings, Maryellen wouldn’t have slept through a single night in the entire three months since Katie’s birth.

As soon as she’d showered and dressed, Maryellen headed for Get Nailed, her spirits high.

Rachel was finishing with her previous client when Maryellen entered the shop. Her nail appointment had gone from
once a week to whenever she could fit it in. This time it’d been three weeks since she’d last seen Rachel, but that couldn’t be helped.

Maryellen loved the “girls” at Get Nailed. They were witty and a little on the wacky side. A year earlier, they’d come up with the unusual idea of a Halloween party at which they introduced their discarded boyfriends to one another in the hope that someone else might find “true love.” In the beginning it had actually sounded like a workable idea and several of the girls had hooked up with guys. Then catastrophe struck when certain behavioral problems exhibited earlier in the discarded boyfriends resurfaced. Maryellen still smiled when she thought about it. The disastrous party was long forgotten now.

Maryellen missed the special camaraderie she’d shared with the other women now that her visits were so infrequent.

“I need a hair appointment for next week,” she told Terri, who was handling the front desk. The shop was divided into two sections: hair and nails. Rachel was the only attendant who did both, and Maryellen preferred to stay with her.

“Rachel can do it next Thursday at five if that’s okay for you,” Terri said, grabbing the pencil from behind her ear.

“I may have to bring Katie with me.” It all depended on whether Katie could stay with Kelly for an extra hour or Jon could take their daughter. Not so long ago, she didn’t need to consider such things, but these days Maryellen’s world revolved around Katie—Katie’s schedule, Katie’s needs.

Terri sighed with regret. “I’m sorry, but we have a ‘no kids’ policy.” She leaned over the glass counter and lowered her voice. “So many young mothers were bringing toddlers to their appointments that we had to do something. It just isn’t a safe environment for youngsters. I know Katie’s an infant, but we had to draw the line. I hope this won’t be a problem for you.” She wore an apologetic expression.

Maryellen understood. As a customer, she found it distracting to have small children constantly underfoot. She bit her lower lip. “Is there anyone who could trim my hair this morning?” It would only take a few minutes to clip off the split ends.

“I just had a cancellation,” Terri said. She cocked her head to one side as she studied Maryellen with fresh eyes. “You want it cut, right?”

“Trimmed,” she corrected. Maryellen had worn her hair in the same easy style for years. Her dark curls fell midway down her back. She’d recently begun wearing it tied at the base of her neck, free from Katie’s exploring fingers.

Terri shook her head. “Cut. You need a change.”

“I do?”

With one fist on her hip, Terri nodded. “Short, I think. How long have you had it this length?”

Maryellen had lost count of the number of years.

“Too long,” Terri answered for her. “Yup. It’s time for a change.”

Maryellen was starting to see the possibilities. “Perhaps you’re right.”

Three hours later Maryellen emerged with freshly painted fingernails and her hair in a soft straight cut that framed her face. She barely recognized herself in the mirror, but she liked the change and hoped Jon would feel the same.

She stopped herself abruptly. It didn’t matter what Jon thought. He was part of Katie’s life, not hers, and she’d better remember that.

Even as she reminded herself of her own small role in Jon’s world, her heart pounded with anticipation as she drove out to his house to pick up Katie. He was supposed to work that afternoon, and Maryellen had an errand to run in Tacoma, so it made sense to get Katie on her way.

This was one of those rare November days in the Pacific Northwest, when the sky’s a clear, bright blue and the air is crisp and cold. Driving down the now-familiar gravel driveway to Jon’s house, Maryellen noticed an eagle overhead. With its huge wings extended, the magnificent bird soared on an updraft, as though it reigned from its lofty height.

As Maryellen pulled her vehicle to a stop, she saw Jon with Katie strapped to his back, looking toward the sky with a camera pointed at the eagle. Their daughter was awake and happy, waving her arms and making delighted sounds, obviously enjoying the out-of-doors.

Jon must have heard Maryellen approach because he lowered his camera and turned to face her. For a long moment he didn’t say anything as he stared at the drastic change in her appearance. Self-consciously, Maryellen lifted her hand to her hair.

“What do you think?” She wanted to kick herself for asking.

He walked closer, studying her, while she stood rooted to the spot.

He cleared his throat as if searching for something to say that wouldn’t hurt her feelings. “It…takes some getting used to.”

“You don’t like it?” It shouldn’t matter.
It didn’t
. She’d cut her hair on a whim, for herself and no one else. Jon’s opinion, no matter what it was, held no weight. And yet…it did. He clearly didn’t like the change and Maryellen was crushed.

To cover her disappointment, she reached for Katie, who was bundled up in a thick fleece outfit. Her daughter kicked her legs ecstatically as Maryellen freed her from the carrier.

As soon as Maryellen held the infant in her arms, Jon raised the camera once more. “Come on,” he urged, “give me a smile.”

Maryellen tried, but she wasn’t in the mood.

He took two or three pictures. “Again,” he insisted.

Katie was certainly a willing subject. Smiling and gurgling, she flailed her arms about from the crook of Maryellen’s arm.

“Oh, sure,” Jon said, briefly lowering the camera. “Now you’re happy. Laugh away, young lady.”

Despite her mood, Maryellen grinned. “Did Katie keep you up last night?”

“I don’t think I got more than a few hours’ sleep.” He rubbed his hand over his eyes. “Katie was in a foul mood. Nothing satisfied her. I spent most of the night sitting in the rocking chair with her.”

“I think she might be teething.” Maryellen, too, had spent many nights dozing in an upright position. Needless to say, the next workday always ended up being hectic. In an odd way, it comforted her to know that Jon was experiencing the same troubles she did.

Out of habit, Maryellen raised her hand to flip her hair to one side, but it was too short now to toss off her shoulder.

Jon took picture after picture while she stood there.

“Come inside and I’ll make us a cup of coffee,” he said when he’d finished. She wondered if he’d abandoned his art photography in favor of snapping pictures of Katie. Pictures of their daughter were all she’d seen of his work lately. Of course, he was under contract with the Seattle gallery, and she didn’t know whether he’d submitted anything in the last couple of months. She did know his work continued to sell well and she was pleased for him.

Jon paused when she didn’t immediately follow him into the house for coffee. “Do you have time?” he asked.

Since their bout of kissing, Maryellen had managed to avoid spending time alone with Jon. He hadn’t pressured her or questioned her reasons. “I…can’t stay,” she said.

No argument came. It was almost as if he’d expected her to decline.

“I’ll get Katie’s things for you,” he said.

Unsure what prompted her, Maryellen walked inside with him. “How’s everything going at The Lighthouse?” she asked, making casual conversation. She found the success of Seth and Justine’s restaurant particularly gratifying, knowing Jon was employed as head chef. People raved about his innovative dishes. He was a talented, complex man.

Jon gathered up Katie’s favorite blanket and stuffed it into her diaper bag. He found a toy rattle, which he also stuck in the bag.

“I heard it’s impossible to get a reservation for the weekends.”

He shrugged, then looked up, his dark gaze probing hers. “Do you need one?”

“No, no,” she said, not understanding the change in his mood.

“No Saturday-night date?” he pried.

Maryellen laughed. “Hardly.”

“You didn’t get your hair styled to impress me, now did you?”

“I did it for
me,
Jon.”

His muscles relaxed as he slipped the strap of the diaper bag over his shoulder and gave her a brief smile. She was sure, for a moment, that he wanted to kiss her. “That’s comforting to hear,” he muttered.

His concern—was it
jealousy?
—was so endearing, she had to resist touching him. In an effort to hide her attraction, she said, “The girls at the nail shop said how wonderful the food at The Lighthouse is.” Terri had recently dined at the restaurant. Rachel, too.

“Thank them for me,” he said in an offhand manner, as if compliments embarrassed him.

“They asked me if I knew where you got your training. I don’t believe you ever mentioned it.” Terri had, in fact, asked her that, and Maryellen took advantage of her friend’s interest to ask a question she herself had wondered about.

“You’re right, I didn’t.” His response was blunt. Clearly he didn’t welcome any further inquiries.

“But you must have been formally trained to—”

“I wasn’t.” He glanced pointedly at his watch. “I need to get ready for work.”

Maryellen was stunned. Every previous time she’d been to Jon’s place, he’d practically thrown himself in front of her car to detain her. Now it seemed he couldn’t get rid of her fast enough.

Absently Maryellen looped a strand of hair around her ear, forgetting once again that her curls were much shorter now than they’d been a few hours earlier. This reaction of Jon’s was so confusing.

Silently he walked her to the car and handed her the diaper bag. “Do you have your work schedule for next week?” she asked.

“Not yet.” He stood beside her vehicle while she strapped Katie into her carrier in the back seat.

When she straightened, she noticed that his attention appeared to be elsewhere. “All right,” she said, “then I’ll wait to hear from you.”

He nodded.

She hesitated, sorry to end their time on such a negative note, but she was unsure what had gone wrong or why. “Goodbye, and…thank you.”

He stepped back from her car and Maryellen got inside and slid the key into the ignition. As she pulled away, she looked in her rearview mirror. Jon was still standing there.