Kelly returned before Sam could ask Francesca why not. From what he could see, the kid could sure take care of herself.
He glanced at the backpack. “You don’t have any more luggage than that?”
“Nope. I didn’t want to bring a lot of clothes. I didn’t know what would be in style out here. I mean, is it West Coast chic or just backwoods ugly?”
Sam didn’t know how to answer the question, so he ignored it. Instead he led the way out of the kitchen and upstairs.
On the second floor he walked to the far end of the hall-at the opposite end of the house from his bedroom-and door.
While there were five bedrooms upstairs, only three were furnished. He’d given Kelly the largest guestroom. The big, open space held a queen-size bed, a dresser, a desk, and an armoire with a television. The attached bathroom was as spacious as the bedroom.
Kelly dropped her backpack on the bed and prowled the room. Her stride was long and graceful. She held her head high. Years of dance training, he thought, then wondered if she was going to need some kind of workout room. Didn’t dancers need hardwood floors and a wall of mirrors?
Kelly pushed open the closet and examined the space, then pulled on the armoire’s doors. “Oh, good. A TV. Do you have cable or satellite?”
“Cable.”
She tilted her head. “There isn’t a DVD player. We’ll need to take care of that this week. I’m sure Tanya will be sending my DVDs along with my other stuff. Once I’m settled and stuff, we need to redecorate this room.” She wrinkled her nose. “Blue isn’t my color.”
Sam looked at the light blue walls and the multicolored quilt on the bed. Elena had taken care of fixing up the two guest rooms. His level of involvement had stopped at signing the check.
He was five seconds from overload, he thought and grabbed the door handle.
“Do you need anything else?”
Kelly shook her head. “I’ll just watch TV, then go to bed early. I’m still on East Coast time. Plus I got up early for my flight.”
He hesitated, not sure what to say to her. Then he simply nodded, wished her good night, pulled the door shut, and stepped back into the hall.
He found Francesca still in the kitchen. When he walked into the room, they looked at each other.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
“I have no idea.” He thought about their plans for the evening. No way that was happening now. “I’m sorry about all this messing up our evening,” he told her. “You didn’t sign up for anything like this. If you want to take off, I’ll understand.”
She smiled. “Thanks for giving me an out, but I don’t mind sticking around. I have a feeling you’re going to need someone to talk to.”
Some of his tension eased. “You sure?”
“Absolutely. We’re friends.” She hesitated over the last word, then shook her head. “I’m glad to help. I might not have kids of my own, but I used to be one, just like you. We can brainstorm.”
“Good idea. But first I need a drink.”
She pointed to the bottle of wine. He shook his head.
“I want something a lot stronger than that.”
Kelly listened at the door. When she couldn’t hear anything, she slowly pulled it open. There was only a faint murmur of voices from downstairs.
Good, she told herself as she returned to the bed and opened her backpack. She was tired, just like she said. Being alone was better than hanging out with someone she didn’t even know.
She pulled out her dance clothes and tucked them in a drawer. She’d brought a change of clothes, a bathing suit, a small bag of makeup and skin-care stuff, and a toothbrush. Tucked in an interior zipper compartment was the credit card she always used. If Sam didn’t take her to the mall, she would order what she needed online. It wasn’t as cool as actually trying stuff on, but she’d done it before. She checked that the card was still there.
Some kids had parents who took care of things like buying clothes and CDs and stuff. Tanya had never been into maintenance. Kelly couldn’t remember her mother ever cooking for her, or laying out clothes. Whatever maid was around did that kind of stuff. At least she used to. Kelly had been handling that herself for years.
After she’d washed her face and brushed her teeth, she changed into cotton pjs and carried her backpack to the closet. But before stuffing it on the top shelf, she opened it one last time and pulled out a worn, tattered Pooh bear. The fur was rubbed off one side of the face. One arm hung at an awkward angle, and the cheerful yellow T- shirt the bear had been wearing had faded to a dingy gray.
Kelly studied the stuffed animal, then shoved the backpack in the closet and closed the door.
She would be fine, she told herself. Except she didn’t believe it. After years of threatening, her mother had finally gotten rid of her. What if her dad didn’t want her, either? If he threw her out, where was she going to go?
She didn’t want to think about it, so she climbed into bed and pulled up the covers. After tucking Pooh under one arm, she tightly closed her eyes. But no matter how hard she squeezed her eyelids, she couldn’t stop the tears from escaping and dripping down her cheeks.
7
Sam poured himself a scotch, then moved to the sofa where Francesca had already settled.
“This is crazy,” he said, leaning his head against the back of the sofa and resting the glass on his flat belly. “Twelve-year-olds do not fly across the country on their own.”
“This one did. Kelly explained the process.” Francesca told him about the Internet purchases and the limo service.
“She’s resourceful,” he admitted. “Independent. Mouthy.”
And used to being taken care of, Francesca thought, remembering the dishes Kelly had left on the counter. She was not a child who picked up after herself.
He took a sip of his drink. “She informed me that the room was acceptable, but she needed a DVD player, and when things were settled she wanted to talk about redecorating.” He glanced at her. “Apparently blue isn’t her color.”
“She’s not afraid to ask for what she wants.”
“Somehow I’m not sure that’s a good thing.” He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. “A daughter. After all this time.”
Francesca knew she felt shell-shocked, and she was only an interested bystander. Sam must feel as if he’d been hit by a truck.
“Are you going to check paternity?” she asked.
He opened his eyes and looked at her. “DNA test? I thought about it. I guess I’ll have to at some point. But while Tanya has no problem lying to get what she wants, she’s not stupid. She knows I wouldn’t keep a child who wasn’t mine, and the last thing she wants right now is Kelly being returned to her. I don’t know. Do you think she looks like me?”
“A little. Around her mouth. But she didn’t get that hair from you.”
“You’re right.” He stretched out his legs. “I don’t know what to think about all of this. I had no idea. When Tanya left-hell, I don’t remember much about that except wanting her gone. All these years I never guessed.”
“Why would you? You had no clues. She’s been living on the other side of the country. It’s not as if you ran into her and Kelly.”
“Good point.” He took another drink. “I should be mad or something. I missed out on Kelly growing up. But I can’t get angry.”
She leaned toward him and lightly touched his arm. “Give yourself a break. Right now you don’t feel anything, and that’s not so bad. You’ll start processing the information over time, and with that will come emotion.”
