Nancy Herkness (15 page)

Fourteen

Charlie hit the disconnect button and rubbed her temples.

It was two o’clock on Sunday afternoon, and she felt as though the telephone headset were surgically attached to the top of her skull. While she worked her rolodex, Sallyanne was on the back porch with Major and Volume Five of the Chronicles of Narnia. Fortunately, Jack had assessed the situation correctly: Mauritania was just grabbing publicity. Every foreign service officer and attaché she had been able to reach assured her Morocco would mobilize its own counter-campaign.

Unfortunately, going through diplomatic channels took time.

Time they didn’t have; Jack’s preview party was in two days.

She was about to autodial Jack’s number when the doorbell rang. Ripping off the headset, Charlie stood up and stretched briefly before heading for the door.

Rhonda Brown stood on her front porch. “I have news,” she announced as Charlie let her in.

“Good or bad?”

“It depends. Where’s Sallyanne?”

“On the porch reading,” Charlie said, starting toward the French doors.

“I’ll say hello and come back inside. I don’t want her to hear this yet.”

Charlie sat down at the kitchen table to wait. When Rhonda returned and sat down across from her, she said, “Okay, spill it.”

“We found Sallyanne’s father.”

“So I was right, he is alive! That’s great!” Charlie said, even as the pain of the inevitable separation tore at her. Something in Rhonda’s expression made her add, “Isn’t it?”

“When you’ve been in this line of work as long as I have, you learn to trust your instincts. I talked with Don McGraw. Something about him doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Did he say anything wrong?”

“No,” Rhonda said, shaking her head. “He said everything he should have, and that’s why I don’t trust him. I told him to come up here and stay a week to make the transition easier. That way you and I and that husband of yours can look him over before we let him take her back to Tennessee.”

“When does he plan to arrive?”

“Late tonight. We’ll arrange for them to have lunch together tomorrow. Food always helps smooth over any rough spots in a first meeting.”

“So soon?” Charlie needed a minute to digest this. Then she said, “ ‘That husband of mine’ is going to be pretty busy this week; the preview party is Tuesday. But I’ll make sure he meets Mr. McGraw.”

“You do that, honey. Jack strikes me as a shrewd fellow; he’d have to be in his line of work. That brings me to the other piece of news.”

Charlie felt her stomach tighten.

“One of my colleagues in Georgia called yesterday.” Rhonda looked Charlie in the eye. “Jack has a record from his teenage years. It’s sealed, so she couldn’t read it, but she’s got contacts who say it was a serious crime. He did time in a juvenile facility.”

Charlie swallowed a gasp and choked.

“You okay?” Rhonda asked.

Charlie nodded mid-cough.

“I didn’t tell you any of this, and I’m not going to change my approval of your adoption. I don’t believe in holding a kid’s mistake against a grown man. That’s why records are sealed. But I thought you should know, if you didn’t already.”

“Thank you,” Charlie managed to say. “For not holding it against Jack now.”

“You should have let me know, off the record,” Rhonda said, interpreting Charlie’s comment exactly the way Charlie hoped.

“I had to respect Jack’s wishes and the seal of confidentiality.”

“You’re a reporter; you should know nothing’s confidential anymore.”

“Even I can’t get access to sealed records,” Charlie said, thinking as she said it, there were other ways to get that kind of information. “Let’s talk about Sallyanne’s father.”

Half an hour later, they had worked out a suitable plan for the father and daughter’s reunion. Rhonda said her good-byes, patted Major and departed.

Charlie headed back into her office and picked up her telephone headset with a grimace. Neither Jack nor Isabelle answered their phones so she left messages. However, Mike Phillips answered on the first ring.

“Sitting by your telephone?” Charlie asked.

“The wee folk whispered I’d be hearin’ from a bonnie lassie soon,” he said in a phony Irish brogue. Dropping back into his usual flat Boston tone, he asked, “How’s your little guest?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk with you about.” Charlie gave him a summary of Rhonda’s visit, including the bombshell about Jack’s juvenile record.

“So you want to know what chance you have of withholding custody if you don’t like McGraw?” Mike surmised at the end of her recitation.

“Exactly. If Rhonda is having doubts, I’m not expecting much. I’d trust her instincts ahead of my own.”

“It’s not my field, but I think your chances are pretty slim. Unless you can prove something substantive against the man that would make him an unfit father. I’ll make a few phone calls and get back to you.” He paused. “Custody battles are very hard on children.”

“A bad father would be worse.”

“I suppose so,” he said. “Mine was a drunkard, but he’d have a catch with me on a Sunday afternoon.”

“You had a mother to take up the slack,” Charlie pointed out.

“That I did. She was a saint. Poor kid, would you keep her if you could?”

“I hadn’t thought about it until Rhonda told me about her father.” Charlie stood up and paced. “I don’t want to deprive her of her rightful place in her real family…”

“Being genetically related doesn’t necessarily make a family.”

“Tell me about it.” Charlie didn’t generally discuss her upbringing, but Mike understood she considered her childhood less than ideal. “I know I’ve said I wanted a baby rather than an older child. Then I’d be almost a birth mother, and I’d know the child’s earliest years were good because I would be the one shaping them. Older children can have unknown issues from their past—”

“So you wouldn’t adopt Sallyanne?”

“Of course I would! But only if her father is truly unfit.”

Mike laughed. “That’s what I thought you’d say. What about Jack’s record? I could contact a few buddies in Georgia and get a pretty good idea of what happ—”

“Thank you but that’s his business, not mine,” Charlie said with a decisive shake of her head.

“What if he’s a child molester? Or a murderer?”

“Do you really think he’s a child molester or a murderer?” she asked.

There was a long silence. Charlie could visualize Mike pursing his lips as he considered his answer.

“No, I suppose I don’t. But I’ve only met the man for twenty minutes at a fraudulent wedding reception. It might be wise to double check.”

“I could find out myself if I chose to,” Charlie said, “but I don’t choose to.”

“You want him to tell you himself,” Mike said, with sudden comprehension. “Charlie, Charlie, you’re in trouble there.”

“Probably.” She switched topics quickly. “There’s another place I’m in trouble. I called today, and Stephen won’t tell me anything about this dress he’s making. I’m afraid it’s going to plunge down to my navel or be completely transparent, or worse!”

Mike let her change the subject but as their conversation ended, he said, “Just remember: wedding rings don’t make marriages.”

Charlie glanced down at the gleaming band on her finger. “Don’t worry. My ring is only valid on Mars.”

“What if I don’t like my father?” Sallyanne asked.

“Why do you think you wouldn’t?”

“He must have done something awful for Mama to say he was dead.”

“That’s true,” Charlie said slowly. A fishing boat honked but she ignored it. “But you have to give him a chance. For one thing, people make mistakes when they’re young. Your father may be very sorry for whatever he did. And sometimes grown-ups do bad things to each other that have nothing to do with their children. Your father may not have been good to your mother, but he may be good to you.”

“I’m going to ask him what he did to Mama.”

Charlie knelt in front of Sallyanne’s chair and rested her hands lightly on the child’s shoulders. “He may not answer your question, sweetie. It may be something he doesn’t want to share with anyone else in the world, especially his wonderful little girl whom he’s just meeting again. You may have to decide about him without knowing the answer.”

“But maybe he’ll have a really good answer.”

“I hope so, sweetheart. I truly hope so.”

Jack called back as Charlie was finishing the dinner dishes.

“Have you had any luck with the diplomats?” she asked immediately.

“Only bad. They must have gone to the same school as Congress; they can talk for hours without saying anything.”

She laughed, then summarized the results of her own research.

“That’s a hell of a lot more progress than I made,” he said when she finished. “So you think I should get hold of Dyson Foley at the U.S. Mission here in New York?”

“I think he’s a good bet. He’s interested in your case.”

“Thanks, sugar. I realize you must have called in some favors. I appreciate your help.”

“No problem.” Charlie hesitated, then plunged on. “Rhonda found Sallyanne’s father.”

“Why don’t you sound happier about that?”

“Because Rhonda is suspicious.”

“Has she met the man?”

“No, but she talked with him by telephone.”

“Well, hell, cut the guy some slack. He may hate talking on the phone. People do.”

“Actually, she’s suspicious because he said too many of the right things, so it’s not because he hates talking on the phone,” Charlie said shortly.

“Sorry. People have been saying too many of the wrong things to me today.”

“I know,” Charlie said, mollified. “Sallyanne’s afraid her father did something awful because her mother excised him from their lives.”

Jack’s tone was neutral as he asked, “And what did you tell her?”

“That people make mistakes when they’re young,” Charlie said, putting all the passion of her belief in her voice and hoping he heard it. “That they can’t change the past but they can be terribly, terribly sorry. That he could still be a good father to her even if he had done something bad to her mother.”

Charlie waited.

“So you think a leopard can change its spots?” Jack said.

“I think one spot does not a leopard make,” Charlie said, disappointed by the flippancy of his question. “Anyway, Don McGraw’s arriving tonight and coming here tomorrow to take her out for lunch. Rhonda set it up that way.”

“You have to give him credit; he got here fast. I’ve got four meetings scheduled tomorrow, and the party is Tuesday.”

Charlie melted when she heard the genuine frustration in his voice. “Rhonda and I will be here, and if we need reinforcements, Mike and Isabelle are on call. So we have it covered. But it’s nice of you to think of coming.”

“I owe you one.”

Charlie remembered the last time he had said that and wished she hadn’t.

“All debts are hereby canceled,” she said. “I’ve got to go tuck her in.”

“Give her a kiss for me. Thanks again, Charlie.”

“You’re welcome.”

Charlie put down the phone and dropped her head onto her hands in exhaustion. She was struggling to say the right things to a little girl who had lost the mother she adored, she was bracing herself to judge another human being’s worth in one short meeting and she had just found out her adoption partner had a secret criminal record.

“I need a big kiss too. And a hug.”

The problem is what would come after that.

Fifteen

On Monday, Charlie picked Sallyanne up from school at eleven in the morning. She had decided it would be better for the little girl not to dwell too much on the reunion lunch, but she also wanted to give her time to put on her favorite dress and compose herself a bit. Rhonda had met with Don McGraw in person earlier in the morning and said he seemed “fine.”

As they turned into Winter Circle, Charlie spotted a green Land Rover parked in front of Isabelle’s house. When she saw the Wyoming license plate, a warmth she preferred not to name flooded through her. Jack had cleared his schedule! He opened the front door as soon as she pulled into the driveway. Sallyanne flew out of the car the minute it stopped and hurled herself into his arms.

“Jack, Jack!”

“Hello, sweetheart,” he said, spinning her around once before he set her on her feet. Charlie decided he deserved a hug for this, so she walked right up and put her arms around him, saying, “Thank you so much.” She meant to step away after a quick squeeze, but when his arms wrapped around her, she allowed herself to rest her head against his shoulder just for a moment.

“Newlyweds.” Rhonda, who had just gotten out of her own car, sounded torn between exasperation and indul-gence.

Jack slid his hands down Charlie’s arms, and snuck in a pat on her rear before he let her go.

Charlie stepped back and adjusted the hair clip holding her bun. What had Jack said? That they were like gasoline and matches? Right now she felt more like a square mile of dry pitch pine waiting for a lightning strike. “I know you had a busy schedule today,” she said, for Rhonda’s benefit. “It was good of you to come.”

Charlie looked him up and down as he turned to talk with Sallyanne. His slacks were a fine gray wool, his jacket was the salt-and-pepper tweed she had seen before. He wore a white, button-down shirt and a burgundy paisley tie. The black tasseled loafers were polished to mirror brightness. She needed to remind herself that this was for Don McGraw’s benefit, not hers.

“Let’s go get you ready,” she said, motioning Sallyanne toward the stairs.

Charlie had washed and ironed a blue dress appliquéd with pink and yellow butterflies she had found neatly folded in Sallyanne’s suitcase. The child wanted to wear her hair in a French braid, and Charlie had bought blue, pink and yellow ribbons to wind into it. Charlie tied the end of the ribbons into a bow and opened the closet door so Sallyanne could see herself in the full-length mirror.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

“Mama said this dress matches my eyes perfectly,” she said softly.

“She was right.” Charlie gently placed the braid over her shoulder so Sallyanne could see the ribbons.

“That looks so pretty. Thank you, ma’am.”

Sallyanne had slipped back into ma’aming. Charlie knelt and hugged her. “We’re all here with you, sweetheart, and we’ll make sure whatever happens you’ll be happy.” She brushed her knuckles against the wood of the closet door as she said it.

“I wish Mama were here,” a very small voice said, muffled now by Charlie’s shoulder.

“I do too,” Charlie whispered.

Sallyanne was holding tight so Charlie stayed on her knees, gently stroking her small back and dropping little kisses on her hair until Sallyanne let go.

“Will you hold my hand even when he comes?”

“I sure will. Let’s have a signal: when you squeeze twice I’ll let go, but I won’t for any other reason.” Charlie stood up, and ceremoniously took Sallyanne’s hand in hers. They walked down the stairs side-by-side.

“Will you look at that!” Jack gave a whistle when they stepped into the living room, causing Major to raise his ears. “The two most beautiful women in the world! Sallyanne, that is the most gorgeous dress ever. I’ve only seen one blue prettier, and that would be your eyes.”

Sallyanne gave him a tiny smile.

Jack raised an eyebrow at Charlie, and she nodded. “I’m ready too,” she said, as she checked her watch and adjusted her blazer’s collar. She had dressed for the occasion in her camel pants suit and blue blouse.

The doorbell rang. Charlie and Jack looked at each other. “He’s here.” Charlie stated the obvious.

“I’ll get the door,” Rhonda said. “Then I will retire to the kitchen.”

Rhonda and Don McGraw exchanged greetings, and Sallyanne’s father stepped into the living room to face the penetrating stares of two adults, one child and a large Kuvasz.

He hesitated, swallowed and took another step. “Hello, I’m Don McGraw. And you must be Sallyanne.” He had a thick accent, southern but with more of a nasal twang than Jack’s Georgia drawl. He put down an enormous stuffed pink rabbit he had slung under his arm and knelt in front of the group. “Let me look at you, pretty girl. You have gotten so big and beautiful. The last time I saw you, you were only two years old.”

“Hello,” Sallyanne said solemnly. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

“I was hoping you might have a hug for your papa,” Don said as he shook her small hand. “I brought you a present.”

He slid the rabbit toward the little girl.

“It’s a very big present,” Sallyanne observed. “Thank you very much.”

“You’re very welcome.” Seemingly at a loss, Don stood up.

“Hi, I’m Charlie Berglund,” Charlie jumped in. “And this is my husband Jack Lanett.” She had to work hard to make the second statement sound natural.

Jack and Don shook hands briefly as they appraised each other.

“We’re delighted you were able to come so quickly,” Charlie continued. “It’s good to meet you.”

“It’s my pleasure to meet the pretty lady who’s taken such good care of my little girl. I’m much obliged, ma’am.”

“Believe me, it was not a chore. Sallyanne is a wonderful girl. She makes the best chocolate chip cookies in the world.” Charlie was trying to draw Sallyanne into the conversation, but the child stayed watchful and mum.

“You sure have a nice place here, ma’am,” Don said, looking around the room. “I’ll bet you made her real comfortable.”

“Why don’t we sit down?” Charlie suggested, taking the sofa to accommodate herself and the firmly attached child by her side. Major sat at Sallyanne’s feet, looking fully alert. Jack remained standing until Charlie gave him a small frown. Then he seated himself on the sofa beside Sallyanne.

While she made small talk, Charlie studied Don.

He was a good-looking man. Sallyanne had gotten her very blond hair and very blue eyes from him. Charlie recognized the smile too. He wore his hair slightly long, brushed straight back with an obvious application of hair gel. His mustache was neatly trimmed. A navy blazer stretched tightly across his shoulders; he looked as though he would be at home in a weight room. He wore a light blue polo shirt and gray flannels. Charlie was almost sure the jacket and slacks were brand new, and she gave him credit for making such an effort. The giant pink bunny was also well-intentioned, if a bit overwhelming.

Don sat with his hands clutching the arms of the overstuffed chair, and shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m finally seeing my daughter after all these years.”

Charlie thought she saw tears in his eyes, and much of her reserve melted away.

“It must have been very hard for you to be separated from her.”

“It was pure misery.”

“I have to ask you an important question,” Sallyanne spoke unexpectedly.

“Sure, honey bunch. What is it?”

“What did you do to Mama to make her say you were dead to us?”

Don McGraw flushed so red his hair looked almost white by contrast.

“Your father might prefer to answer that question for only you,” Charlie said. “Why don’t you ask him at lunch?”

The man threw her a grateful glance.

“No, ma’am,” Sallyanne said, shaking her head.

Don’s high color had subsided, but he swallowed noticeably before he said, “Your mama and I had a big fight. I was really mad so I left for a few days. When I came back to apologize, she had taken you away where I couldn’t find you.

“I looked for you and your mama for a year but your mama had made everyone promise they wouldn’t tell me where you were. Finally, I quit looking because I figured your mama would come back when she was good and ready.”

Charlie sensed Jack stiffen at that flash of still-simmering resentment.

“I haven’t been able to be a good father before this, but now I’m going to be the best papa I can, honey bunch.”

“What did you and Mama fight about?”

Don’s full flush came back. “It was stuff grown-ups fight about: money, a job, your papa spending time with his friends. Nothing important enough to lose you over.”

Sallyanne looked doubtful but she was silent.

“Should I take her to lunch now?” Don asked, looking at Charlie and Jack.

“Certainly,” Charlie said. “You must be starving, Sallyanne.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the girl said dutifully.

“We’re going to the restaurant at my hotel, sweetie pie. It’s got pink tablecloths and real flowers on every table. Afterward, I thought we’d go to this ice-cream store I found that has fifty flavors. If that’s all right with you?” He looked at Charlie again.

She nodded and smiled.

Everyone stood and walked to the door. Sallyanne still had not given the signal to let go, so Charlie knelt down beside her and silently held up their clasped hands with a question in her eyes. Sallyanne nodded and squeezed twice before she released her grip.

Don held out his hand, and after the tiniest hesitation, Sallyanne took it.

As they started out the door, Jack stepped in front of the newly discovered father, forcing Don to stop and look up several inches to meet his eyes.

“I expect you to take great care with Sallyanne. Her well-being is very important to all of us,” he said with just a hint of a threat in his voice.

“She’s my daughter. I wouldn’t let a hair on her head come to harm.” Don squared his shoulders and gave Jack just the slightest bump as he brushed past him. Jack stood like a rock, and Don was the one who bounced off from the impact.

“Enjoy your lunch!” Charlie called, glaring at Jack. “And your ice cream!”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Don said with a tight smile, as he guided Sallyanne to his rented car.

As soon as the car doors closed, Charlie rounded on Jack. “Major has better manners than you do! Why are you manhandling the guy when he’s seeing his daughter for the first time in seven years?”

“I don’t trust him,” Jack said. “I’ll bet Leah McGraw had a very good reason for getting as far away from him as she could.”

“I don’t trust him either,” Rhonda’s voice came from the doorway.

“Does he have any kind of record?” Jack asked.

“Just standard petty stuff: one car theft, one possession of marijuana, one shoplifting.” Rhonda shrugged. “He’s cleaner than half my clients.”

“He’s Sallyanne’s father,” Charlie said pointedly. “He should be given a chance to live down his mistakes, whatever they were. Jack, you, of all people, should sympathize with him.”

Jack’s brows snapped into an angry line. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

Charlie could have bitten her tongue. She glanced toward Rhonda as a warning to deflect his ire. He grabbed her by the elbow and said, “Excuse me” as he walked her quickly around the corner of the house.

Charlie tried to free her elbow, but Jack’s grip didn’t slacken.

“Why should I sympathize with a man who deserted his wife and child?” he ground out.

“I didn’t say that. I said you should sympathize with people who have made mistakes in their past and want to—”

“And just what mistakes have I made in my past?” he asked, releasing her arm but continuing to focus his ice-blue gaze on her.

“I don’t know because you won’t tell me,” Charlie said, rubbing the circulation back into her elbow. “But whatever it is, you deserve the chance to make amends, to put it behind you. And so does Don McGraw.”

“Some things can’t be amended. Not in my life and maybe not in Don McGraw’s.” He touched her elbow gently this time. “Sorry. But leopards don’t change their spots.”

He spun on his heel and returned to the front of the house.

“Dig deeper,” he said to Rhonda as he strode past her to his car.

Charlie watched him climb in and slam the door without a backward glance.

“Lovers’ quarrel?” Rhonda said with a raised eyebrow.

Charlie sighed. “He’s on your side about Don.”

“And what do you think?” Rhonda probed.

“I think we should see what Sallyanne says about her lunch.”