Dad's E-Mail Order Bride (18 page)

“You know you can ask me anything, sweetie,” Courtney said, smiling at her.

“Are you in love with my dad?”

Hmm, except maybe that. “Why?”

“Still hoping, I guess,” Rachel said with a sigh. “And Dad does have coffee with you when we don’t have guests. I was hoping that meant you both had finally figured out that you’re perfect for each other.”

Rachel went back to wiping the counter.

Courtney continued sweeping.

Graham had been stopping by for coffee whenever he could, and though Courtney looked forward to those small slices of time she had with him, he hadn’t offered her anything more. Nor had he shown up at the Friday night gatherings, even though they were a huge success.

It was the middle of July, and time was running out fast. Each day that passed led Courtney steadily toward accepting the fact that Graham never would change his mind about letting himself love anyone again.

That meant she had to get serious about what she wanted to do. Her wish-list future would be marrying the man she loved and becoming an official mother to Rachel. She loved them both. And she wouldn’t care if they lived in Port Protection, or Ketchikan, or Anchorage or Timbuktu.

Home was where the heart is. And Graham and Rachel had stolen her heart completely.

Courtney glanced at Rachel again.

She was so proud of Rachel, and she told Rachel that on a daily basis. Rachel was quick and assertive and didn’t have to be told what to do before she took the initiative to do it. Courtney had made it a point to work Rachel’s butt off, yet never once had Rachel complained.

But today something was bothering Rachel. Deciding to find out what that something was, Courtney propped her broom against the counter and slid onto the stool in front of Rachel.

“Let’s take a break,” Courtney said. “And you can tell me what’s going on inside that pretty head of yours.”

Rachel walked around the counter to plop on the stool beside Courtney. “What makes you think something’s going on?”

“You seem a little down today.”

Rachel said, “Did you get the invitation to Peg and Hal’s anniversary party?”

“I did,” Courtney said. “The invitations are beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Are you going?”

“Yes.”

“Lucky you,” Rachel mumbled.

Courtney didn’t dare bring up the fact that since the party was being held on Labor Day weekend in Seattle, and Peg and Hal would be coming home on Labor Day Monday, she would return to New York from Seattle, not from Port Protection. “I guess that means Graham is refusing to go?”

“How incredibly brilliant of you.”

“And that’s what has you feeling down today?”

“That and a zillion other things.”

“Such as?”

Rachel looked over at her. “Have you ever heard of a wish basket?”

Courtney shook her head. “No. I can’t say that I have.”

“Tiki has one,” Rachel said. “Every Haida girl has one. I’ve seen baskets like hers at the craft shop Tiki’s aunt opens for the tourists. I just didn’t know what they were.”

“You mean the large trunklike baskets with the lids?”

Rachel nodded. “Except Tiki’s aunt didn’t make her basket. Tiki’s grandmother made it after she was born. Tiki and her mom have been putting things in it for when she gets married.”

“Oh,” Courtney said. “That’s the same thing we call a hope chest. I don’t think many people keep that tradition anymore, but people once used cedar chests for girls to store their prenuptial things.”

“Do you have a hope chest?”

Courtney shook her head.

“Me, either,” Rachel said. “And it really made me jealous when I saw Tiki’s. She and her mom have made all kinds of things. Little hand towels with fancy embroidery. And Haida bracelets and hair combs for Tiki’s wedding ceremony. She and her mom made them from shells they’ve collected along the beaches around here. Tiki even has her mom’s wedding outfit in her wish basket. She’ll wear the same clothes when she gets married that her mom wore the day Tiki’s parents were married.”

Courtney sighed. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, now I’m jealous, too.”

“Really?”

“Really. But you know that gives me an idea. Why don’t we start our own wish baskets?”

Rachel sat up straight. “Are you serious?”

“Why not? We’ll go pick out our wish baskets tomorrow. Maybe we could even ask Tiki and Hanya if they would show us how to make bracelets and combs.”

“Awesome,” Rachel said, beaming.

“You might want to ask your grandmothers if they have anything personal and homemade they want to contribute.”

Rachel laughed. “You haven’t met my grandmothers. I love them both, but if it doesn’t have a designer label, it doesn’t exist for either of them.”

“Did you ever consider that might be one of the reasons your dad wanted to raise you here in Alaska? So you would realize there were more important things in life than designer labels?”

“Did my dad tell you that?”

“Yeah, he did.”

She’d had that conversation with Graham the last time he had dropped by for coffee, which had been three days, seven hours and about fifteen minutes ago. But who was counting?

“Dad and I never talk about stuff like that.”

“Maybe you should.” Courtney gave Rachel a nudge with her elbow.

“I don’t see that happening.”

“Give him a chance, Rachel. Ask him point-blank why he feels the way he does about things. And instead of getting angry if you don’t like his answer, don’t be afraid to tell him how you feel about things, too. He doesn’t have to like your reasons any more than you like his. The important thing is that you talk to each other instead of holding everything in. The more you hold stuff in, the more it hurts. And the more it hurts, the more miserable you become.”

“What am I going to do without you when you go back to New York?”

Courtney put on a brave smile. “You can talk to me every day if you need to, just like you’re doing now. And we’ve already established ourselves as the e-mail queens of the Internet.”

“It won’t be the same as having you here.”

“No,” Courtney agreed, “it won’t be the same as me living within walking distance. But no matter where I live, or where you live, Rachel, I’ll always be there for you. You can count on that. Always.”

Rachel leaned over and hugged her. “I love you, Courtney.”

Courtney blinked back tears. “I love you, too, Rachel.”

“No,” Courtney lied and blew her nose.

“That’s a sound effect I could have done without,” Beth fussed. “Spit it out, Courtney. What the bloody hell is going on?”

“Bloody hell?”
Courtney repeated. “You’ve never used that expression in your life.”

“Deal with it,” Beth said. “I’m dating a Brit at the moment.”

“Since when?”

“Since last night around midnight when I met him at that new martini bar I told you about,” Beth said. “He’s picking me up at seven. So that gives you thirty minutes to tell me what’s wrong.”

“Please tell me you didn’t sleep with him.”

“Okay. I won’t tell you.”

“Beth!”

“Oh, no, you don’t. You are not going to call me when it’s obvious you’ve been crying, and then try to change the subject and give me a lecture.”

“I’m just having a bad day, okay? And I hate to admit it, but everything you warned me about is coming true. You told me it was a big mistake trying to play the mother role to Rachel. And you warned me I was being a fool to think Graham would change his mind. Summer’s almost over, Beth. So you tell me? What in the bloody hell am I going to do when I can’t bear the thought of Graham and Rachel not being in my life?”

“I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to come back to reality and leave this fantasy all-I-want-is-a-family world you’ve been living in behind you. Seriously, Courtney. I don’t care if you do love Graham. You’ve been sitting there for almost two months and the most he’s willing to offer you is stopping by for a cup of coffee now and then. And don’t get me started on the situation with Rachel. I might understand if Rachel was an infant who desperately needed a mother’s love and care. But the girl is practically grown.”

Courtney sniffed. “Well, I disagree. I think you need a mother’s love and care no matter how old you are.”

“Bingo!” Beth exclaimed. “And there, in a nutshell, lies the root of your problem. You’re trying to act out with Rachel the type of relationship you’ve always wanted with your mother.”

“Thank you, Dr. Phil.”

“Whatever. Lie to yourself if it makes you feel better. But we both know what I said is true.”

All she’d wanted was a little sympathy from Beth. What she’d gotten was a reminder of what a big fat liar she was. She’d given such great advice to Rachel, telling her she needed to talk to her father instead of holding it all in. Pointing out that the longer you held things in, the more it hurt and the worse it became.

Liar.

She was a big fat liar!

And it had taken Beth to call her on it.

“I wasn’t going to tell you this,” Beth said, “but Lisa has been calling me at least once a week to check on you.”

Okay. That was startling. “And?”

“Only because I love you,” Beth said, “I’ve been giving Lisa the rose-colored glasses version of your little vacation. How the peace and solitude has been extremely cathartic for you. How you’ve gotten completely in touch with your inner self. In other words, enough new age bullshit that Lisa can save face when people ask about you. I’m sure, with her spin, everyone will find your summer seclusion amazingly chic.”

“You do know Mother so well.”

“True,” Beth said. “In fact, I’ve been so convincing maybe Lisa will take the whole sainted team to Alaska next summer to share the same experience and then, lucky you will have another opportunity to drop in on Graham.”

Sainted team.

It was the tag Beth had given the department heads at the agency—the team her mother kept glued to her side, even to the point she demanded everyone’s presence for Sunday brunch, no exceptions.

“You’re forgetting. I’m not part of the sainted team anymore.”

“Oh, please. Lisa isn’t going to fill your position, Courtney. And you’re lying if you say you really thought she would.”

“Did Mother ask you to tell me that?” Her mother could save face and still get what she wanted—Courtney back in the fold.

“No. But the fact Lisa made it a point to tell me she wasn’t replacing you was the same thing as asking me to tell you.”

“Well, whether you believe me or not, living here
has
been cathartic for me. I’m not the same person. And a lot of things would have to change before I would ever agree to work for my mother again. A forty-hour work week for starters. Period. No exceptions. And weekends off. And no more excruciating Sunday brunches. And scheduled vacations. And—”

“Why are you telling me this?” Beth asked flatly.

“Good question,” Courtney said and hung up.

It took Courtney another hour before she was ready to call her mother. And thanks to Beth for letting her vent, by the time she was ready to make the call all of Courtney’s anger was gone.

She loved her mother and she missed her.

And Courtney intended to tell her that.

Her mother answered her cell on the first ring.

“Mom. It’s me.”

There was a long pause before her mother said, “You haven’t called me
Mom
since you were a child.”

“Maybe it’s because I’ve been acting like a child and I’m so sorry it’s taken this long for me to figure that out. I love you, Mom. And I miss you. And I didn’t stay in Alaska to hurt you. I had reached a crossroads in my life where I wanted something more than a career. But instead of telling you that like an adult, I guess I ran away from home.” There. She’d said it. And doing so wasn’t nearly as hard as she’d expected.

“And do you love this man?”

“Yes,” Courtney said without hesitation.

“And are you sure he loves you?”

“No,” Courtney said. “That’s why I stayed, Mom. I needed to find out.”