Full-Time Father

“Parker’s relationship with his daughter isn’t the reason you’re hiding in this room, though, is it?”

Erin sighed. “No.”

“You’re worrying about measuring up to Robin. Don’t think about that. You’re two different people, and she’s gone forever.”

“That sounds like a polite way of telling me I can’t measure up.”

Kiki shook her head. “It’s a polite way of saying you wouldn’t want to measure up. Robin had many flaws.”

“I’m no paragon of virtue, either. I-” She hesitated, then figured she had to confess all to someone. Maybe Kiki could help. “My sister kept a diary while she was here. Most of the entries are about Parker and Stacey’s feelings for him. I’m afraid I’ve taken those entries a little too much to heart.”

“So what if you have? You’ve needed a push in the right direction for a long time. Parker hides behind his memories and his work. You hide behind Christie. You’ve both been hiding for too many years. Get out, Erin. Get your hands dirty. Risk making mistakes. Remember what it feels like to be alive.”

Kiki’s words stung. Erin struggled to keep the hurt from showing. “I know exactly what it feels like to be alive.”

Kiki smiled. “Do you? What was the last big risk you took?”

“Coming here.”

“And before that?”

Erin couldn’t remember. She wasn’t much on taking risks. You’re going to die waiting for your turn. That voice spoke in her head again. She tried to ignore it, but it was too loud and truthful. The voice was right; Kiki was right. She’d been waiting for someone to hand her her turn. She’d never taken an uncalculated risk. She’d never grabbed for what she wanted. If she were to die right this minute, her tombstone would read: Erin Ridgeway-a Cautious Person. Is that what she wanted for her life?

“Everything is confusing,” she murmured, not sure what to do with her newfound insight.

“Growing isn’t always comfortable, but it’s worth it in the end.” Kiki stood. “I have to go to the grocery store. Why don’t I take Christie with me so you can have some time to think? You could take a drive up the coast. Or inland. There are some beautiful houses and scenic routes in the area.”

A drive. “That sounds great,” Erin said. She rose to her feet and crossed to the housekeeper. “Thanks for the advice.”

Kiki patted her arm. “I hate to see you so unhappy, Erin. Life is precious. Enjoy every moment. Grab on to happiness with both hands and refuse to let go.”

“I’m not much of a grabber.”

“Practice. It gets easier with time.” Kiki left the room.

Erin stared after her and remembered that the other woman had suffered the loss of a child, then the disintegration of her marriage. Yet she still talked about happiness and living life to its fullest. Her philosophy made Erin ashamed of her miserly existence.

She grabbed her purse and her camera, then headed for the door. A few minutes later, she was turning her car around in the large circular driveway. At the street, instead of heading south for town, she went north and followed the coast. At the next highway, she headed inland.

The lush green grass springing up on the side of the road, the trees and cool ocean breeze were different from what she was used to. She and Christie lived in the upper desert of Southern California. Palmdale was a high valley, surrounded by open bare land and brown mountains. Dry wind accompanied every season. When it rained, things were green for a few weeks, then gradually died. Homeowners fought a constant battle to keep their small lawns lush and healthy.

She pulled into a park and left the engine running as she stared at the children and their parents. Grown-ups pushed kids on swings. A soccer game took up one side of the park. Children in birthday hats sat around a cluster of picnic tables. Families together.

Erin leaned against the headrest and closed her eyes. Families. She hadn’t been part of a family since she was nine years old. She and Stacey had been shuffled from place to place. They’d never belonged, except to each other. Now Stacey was gone and Erin only had Christie. She loved her daughter with all her heart, but sometimes she got weary of being the only one responsible. Sometimes she wanted someone to be there for her.

Was that a heartfelt prayer of a grown woman or the unrealistic desire left over from the dreams of a nine- year-old orphan?

She didn’t have an answer. Questions swirled through her mind. Should she take Christie home now, before more damage was done? Then she reminded herself Parker hadn’t damaged his daughter. He’d been good to her and for her from the first moment they’d met. Erin was the only one at risk of being wounded and that was because she’d broken the rules. She’d fallen in love when she was just supposed to be his friend.

As much as she would like to run away, it wasn’t an option. She and Parker were connected through Christie and they would stay that way for the rest of their lives. She would have to find some kind of middle ground with him.

What had gone wrong? Did she regret making love?

“No,” she whispered. “Never.”

That night had been magic. She’d forgotten what it felt like to hold someone and be held. The joy of sharing had little to do with the physical rapture she’d found with him, and everything to do with the touching of souls. No matter how much it would hurt her later, she couldn’t regret a moment of their time together.

Did she regret loving him?

Erin drew in a deep breath and opened her eyes. A young couple had walked into the park. The man carried a toddler in his arms. He set the child down and watched him weave unevenly on the grass. The man glanced at his wife. For that moment, Erin saw the affection in his eyes, she felt their love as they joined hands, then laughed as their child pointed to a bird and flapped his arms as if they were wings.

Loving Christie had kept Erin alive after the loss of her sister. Love was the best anyone could aspire to. So, no, she didn’t regret loving Parker. She just wasn’t sure what she was going to do about it.

She backed out of the parking lot and continued down the road. About fifteen minutes later, she came across an old abandoned barn. The roof was intact but boards had come off the walls, and where there had once been wide double doors, a huge hole yawned like a giant’s toothless grin.

Erin pulled onto the side of the road. She collected her camera and stepped out onto the dirt path leading to the barn. The air was cool and still, the sun warm. Birds called in the distance, but the barn was alone. An abandoned dark silhouette against a perfect blue sky.

She studied the structure, the shape and size, then walked around it slowly. Visually she explored the possibilities, trying to figure out why the isolation of the building spoke to her. Was it that the building remained standing, despite being alone? Was it the desolation of the scene? She wasn’t sure. She only knew that she had to capture the essence of the moment and preserve it.

She loaded the camera and began taking pictures. Some she took quickly, clicking a series of the barn. Others, she set up carefully, finding the right angle, the right play of light and shadows. She felt herself becoming one with her subject. Her mind filled with possibilities. Different shots, different combinations of centering and foreground.

Later, when she’d used up five rolls of film, she glanced at her watch and gasped. She’d spent three hours at the barn. It had felt like fifteen minutes. Exhilaration filled her, along with a sense of having accomplished something. She couldn’t answer questions about her future, or deal with potential regrets over her relationship with Parker, but this time away from the house had taught her one thing. She’d been wrong to stop taking pictures.

She walked back to the car and slid into her seat. For a moment she stared at the barn. Once again it was just an abandoned old building, but for those few hours it had been more. It had been her dream.

She headed toward the house, going through town to leave her film at a photo lab. As she filled out the information on the envelopes, she calculated how many more rolls of film she wanted to buy. She was ready to start taking pictures again.

On the way to Hawkin’s Point, she thought about what Kiki had told her, and what she, herself, had said to Parker last night. She’d been hard on him, angry because he’d abandoned her. Now she understood him a little better. If he’d felt the same joy in his programming that she’d felt taking the pictures, then she couldn’t begrudge him his time away from her.

Kiki was right. Life was to be lived. If Erin were honest with herself, she would be willing to admit that her