Daddy's Home (9 page)

“This looks divine.” She decided that if he didn’t want to talk, she wouldn’t push it. Maybe she didn’t want to know what he was feeling guilty about anyway. Had he driven their mother away for some reason?

“I hope you like it. I already fed the girls. I thought it might be nice to have dinner by ourselves.”

He took their plates over to a table with a bench and a couple of chairs around it. Brendan guided Holly to the bench and seated himself in a chair. Their discussion throughout dinner was much lighter, the main topic being their girls, who once in a while dashed into the room.

“We were just checking on you,” Chloe said.

“Really now? Do we need to be checked up on?” Brendan asked.

Madeline interrupted, “Are you going to be my dad’s girlfriend?”

Holly nearly spit her wine across the table and tried hard not to giggle. The wine was going to her head.

“Oh, Maddie.” Brendan brought his hand up to his forehead.

“What, Daddy?”

“Would you two like to watch a movie?” he asked.

Madeline nodded.

“All of your homework done?” Holly asked.

“Yes,” they answered.

Holly looked at her watch; it was almost nine. “Okay, go watch a movie, but only for a few minutes, because we’ve got to get you in bed.”

Chloe and Madeline whined in unison.

“They’ve got that down pat, hey?” Brendan said.

Holly laughed. “Don’t they, though.”

“But, Mom, it’s a Fun Day tomorrow because it’s the day before Thanksgiving. So we won’t do anything but have fun,” Chloe said.

“She’s good, that one. Ever thought about how much it might take for you to put her through law school?”

“Often. Now, go watch your movie for a few minutes while I help Mr. O’Neil clean up.”

“You can call him Brendan,” Chloe said. “He lets me.”

“Oh. Okay, then.”

The girls went into the family room while Holly helped Brendan clear their plates. As she turned on the water at the sink to rinse, Megan entered the kitchen. “Do we have any ice cream?”

“Why don’t you check?” Brendan said.

She opened up the freezer and while facing it said, “So, my dad says that you’re a cop.”

“I am. Actually I do a bit more, I’m a criminalist. I work with a forensics team to help solve violent crimes.”

Megan shut the freezer door, a pint of Häagen-Dazs now in hand. “Really?”

Was that interest?
Holly wondered. She glanced at Brendan who shrugged his shoulders. “Really.”

“So, you, like, catch killers and stuff?”

“I do. I’m on a murder case right now. It’s why your dad had to take Chloe for me. My boss runs me ragged.” She laughed and hoped that she’d get a smile out of the teenager.

Megan actually did smile. “That is so cool. I watch CSI, like, all the time, and now CSI Miami. I love it. I totally want to be an FBI agent. And I’ve seen every episode of Alias. Are you like the chick on that show? I mean, do you dress up and everything, you know, to go undercover?”

Holly thought about the afternoon, but wasn’t quite ready to relay the details. “Sometimes, but I don’t go all karate style. It’s not always as fun and interesting as the TV shows make it seem. But I have been known to kick a little butt in my time.”

“Wow!”

“I didn’t know you wanted to be an FBI agent, Meg,” Brendan said.

“You never asked.”

Funny how her voice could change from interested to surly in a second flat.

“Well, Meg, I’m your dad, I would think maybe sometimes you’d tell me these things, instead of me always having to drag them out of you.”

“Whatever. Ms. Jennings?”

“Call me Holly.”

“Do you think I could go on a call with you some time?”

Holly finished scraping off her plate. “Sure, Meg. I could probably do that, if it’s okay with your dad.”

Brendan nodded.

“Cool, thanks.” Megan finished scooping out her ice cream, kissed her dad on the cheek, and said, “See you tomorrow. I’ve got to study for a history test.”

“Don’t be calling that boy, now.”

“Who? Derek? Oh, I broke up with him.” She turned and sauntered out of the room.

Brendan sighed and appeared as if a heavy weight had been lifted from him. He looked up. “Oh, Jesus, Mary, St. Peter, and the rest of you, thanks be to you for getting rid of that boy!”

Holly couldn’t help but laugh.

“You think that’s funny do you? Just wait until that little lass of yours starts dragging home them scoundrels. You’ll be asking for all sorts of help from the Heavens.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sure it’s rough.”

“Rough? You have no idea! That child hasn’t kissed me on the cheek in months. Made me think I was a leper or something.”

“Nah. You’re just a dad, and it looks to me like you’re doing a good job. She’ll come around. Trust me. My dad is one of my best friends. It’s all growing pains.”

“Indeed. Well, she took a liking to you, which I’ve got to say is about as close to a miracle as they come.” Brendan started loading the dishwasher.

“Ah, so you bring lots of women here?”

“No. You’re the first. But Meg doesn’t like anyone unless they’re a movie star, singer, super model, or in her select group at school. The rest of us are useless.” He shut the dishwasher door and pressed the start button. The whoosh of the system echoed through the kitchen.

“She’s a teenager, Brendan. She’s normal.”

Brendan accidentally brushed up against her. He smelled great, like smoky red wine and the woods. Something electric traveled through her body.

This can’t be happening.
Whatever
this
was.

Before she even knew what she was saying, Holly slipped and said, “You know, if you’d like me to spend a little time with Megan, get a feel for where she is, give her a woman’s perspective, I could do that.”

“You would do that? That might be helpful. I’m willing to try anything. I do think it could help. Like I said, the child hasn’t said good night, much less a kiss good night, in months. I’ve got to attribute it to her interest in you.”

“Maybe she and I can get together this weekend. I can show her something of what I do. I am working over-time on this case, so I’ll probably need to head in for a while. She might be able to tag along. I couldn’t give her the details, but she could check out the crime lab, that sort of thing.”

“That sounds good. I saw a bit on TV about those murders and in the paper. I’m assuming that’s the case you’re working. You be careful. He sounds like a real lunatic. I could keep the girls while you and Meg hang out, if it works with what you’re doing.”

“I’ll see. Thanks for the offer.”

Holly called out for Chloe who reluctantly came into the living room with Megan following close behind.

“I thought I’d say goodbye, Holly,” Megan said. “Oh, I know I didn’t ask you, Dad, but I was wondering if you and Chloe wanted to come for Thanksgiving dinner?”

Holly felt herself blush. She looked at Brendan whose face was probably the same color as hers. “I think that would be a wonderful idea,” Brendan said. “Do you have plans?”

“Actually, it was just going to be me and Chloe. My folks are visiting my sister and her family,” she stammered.

“Great, then. We’re all set.” Meg clapped her hands together and left the room.

The little girls jumped up and down, thrilled to be spending their holiday together. Brendan and Holly both looked a bit stunned. “That’s the Irish in her. We like a big holiday.”

“So, is there going to be a large group?”

“A few hundred Irishmen, that’s all. No, I’m kidding. My folks still live on The Emerald Isle, and since their mum left . . . well, no, in other words. We were having a quiet Thanksgiving ourselves. Having you and Chloe here definitely fits in more with our idea of a holiday. It’ll be splendid.”

“I really appreciate it. With these cases and my family away, I didn’t make any plans. Normally I would’ve had something pulled together . . . And I don’t want to intrude . . .”

“Holly, hush. I’m glad Meg invited you. I would’ve invited you myself if I hadn’t thought you’d have something planned. But I know how work and life can get this time of year. All crazy. In other words, what I’m trying to say here is that we would love to have you.”

“What can I bring?” Holly asked, rather chagrined.

“How’s your apple pie?”

“I make a better cheesecake.”

“Beautiful. I like to serve dinner between three and four, but I hope you’ll come long before that. In fact, if you’d like to spend the day, well by all means come along. You can watch a master chef in action.”

“I should say,” Holly replied. “Your dinner tonight was delicious.”

“Indeed. Well, lovely ladies, it seems to be passing our bedtimes, Madeline, yours, and mine.”

“Good night, Brendan,” Chloe said.

As they said goodnight, Holly thought how amazing it was that the day could start on such a rotten note and end so perfectly.

Once in the car, Chloe asked, “Do you think my daddy would want you to be Brendan’s girlfriend?”

“Wow, Chloe, I don’t know. But don’t worry about it. Brendan and I are just friends.”

“Will you tell me about my daddy again? Can I see the pictures when we get home?”

“Oh, sweetie, it’s late, and we’re tired. Let’s go home, have a nice cup of peppermint tea, and climb in bed, okay?” Chloe nodded. “Good.” Holly reached over and smoothed down Chloe’s hair. They drove in silence for the five-minute trip, Holly lost in thought.

Chloe had just reiterated the same questions that Holly was struggling with. With the mere mention of Jack, memories and moments flooded her mind, and the evening she’d spent with Brendan went from perfect into a guilty blur.
Ridiculous
, she told herself. Jack was gone. She should move on. Once Chloe was asleep, no matter how tired she felt, Holly knew she’d have to type up an e-mail and send it to the one person who might be able to guide her through this situation. The one person who would have insight and advice.

Yes, she would write to him later on tonight or early in the morning with hopes of finding guidance on her issues with Brendan.

And maybe he would be able to guide her with her case, as well.

CHAPTER NINE

Brendan held the downward dog pose, reflecting on the evening and how so much had transpired in less than two hours. Meg had taken a liking to Holly, and that was unbelievable; that kid disliked all adults since her mother took off three years earlier, only to make an occasional appearance when she felt like it. And here Brendan once thought tradition dictated that it was men who had mid-life crises.

The yoga instructor on the home video told him to breathe deeply in difficult situations, and he contorted into positions that he never thought he could do until he started this practice. What a laugh—an Irish Catholic meditating, breathing, and contorting. Okay, at least he’d been baptized as a baby and gone through the requisite catechism as a child, but Brendan hadn’t been inside a Catholic church since Maddie was blessed. What would the priest say now? He took in a deep breath, but no amount of oxygen intake and release could clear his mind the way it should have. He was still very wound up and even confused.

Holly Jennings had that effect on him. She was the entire package—brains, beauty, a gentle being—and well, Brendan was a man. He had noticed, as he was sure that all men had, that Holly Jennings maintained one serious kick-ass body. Yes, sir, Holly was the real deal, and when Brendan first laid eyes on her at an open house down at the school, he’d had one of those moments. When he thought about it now, he referred to it as a spiritual thing. Light had shone above her glossy dark hair, and when those hazel eyes had met his . . . bam! He knew he’d looked into the eyes of his soul mate. That sounded ridiculous to him, such a damn cliché, but if there were any truth to that saying, then he’d found it in her. It was more than simple lust.

Funny that he now thought like that, because he never would have until recently. That soul mate stuff was pretty funky as far as he was concerned. Hell, his ex-wife left him for her supposed “soul mate.” Brendan had spent a couple of years lifting weights, taking St. John’s Wort at the pleading of his sister, and reading everything that Dr. Wayne Dyer ever wrote, another thing his sister insisted he do to get him over . . . What was her name now? Oh, yeah. Rebecca.

Well, Rebecca split for her soul mate, leaving behind her three-year-old and twelve-year old daughters. How could a mother ever leave her children behind? Was he such a poor husband that she’d give it all up? That thought alone made Brendan wonder about penis implants. Silly notion, but he’d met Rebecca’s soul mate at the gym, and not that Brendan looked at male counterparts’ parts, but Rebecca’s “soul mate” was hard not to notice. Like a body builder from a porno movie. How could a woman abandon her own children, only to have every other weekend visits, and actually prefer it that way? And how many times had she called to cancel those visits? It had been over a month since she’d seen the girls, and Brendan was about to take her back to court and pull out all the stops to take away all her rights. Each time she cancelled and he witnessed the faces of his children melt into sadness (and in Meg’s case, anger), the pain he felt was more horrible than a dagger in his back.