She’d been a combination of surly and scared when he got her upstairs. He managed to convince her she needed to get out of her wet clothes and bully her into a shower. When he was sure she stood under the hot spray he called Julia to tell her Courtney was safe, explained she’d walked in the rain to the gas station a mile away and called a taxi, using her birthday money to pay for it. He’d call again soon but she was not to rush right down there. He asked her to put Claire on the phone, wanting to make sure she and Brad didn’t let her out of their sight.
He obviously didn’t have proper clothes for a thirteen-year-old girl, so he did the best he could: a pair of shorts, and a T-shirt, and a couple of safety pins. He’d poured hot tea into her and sat in silence, waiting for her to say whatever she’d come to tell him. He hoped he’d be able to give her the answers she was looking for.
It was his fault as much as Julia’s. He could have pushed harder. Tried harder. Used Claire as an ally. Somehow bullied her into telling him the hellish situation Julia had trapped herself in. Well, so much water under the bridge now. It was what it was, and they could only move forward.
He’d fixed Courtney something to eat, but she let it sit in front of her as everything rolled out of her. The pain. Everything. Thirteen years worth of it. She’d bombarded him with questions, sulked and then shouted at him, and cried her way through half a box of tissues before finally settling down. Now she finished the last of the sandwich and drained her glass of milk. She wiped her mouth with the paper napkin, crumpled it into a ball, and dropped it on the empty plate.
“So are you gonna hang around or what?”
Her air of false bravado stabbed at him. She wanted so badly to have a father, to have a place in his life, but she’d been flailing at the wind for so long she didn’t know quite how to settle down.
“That’s my plan,” he told her calmly. “Does it appeal to you?”
“I guess. I mean, if you’d like it too.”
Her defenses were so sharp they pierced his heart. He and Julia had a lot of fence mending to do, not the least of which was between the two of them.
“Very much.” He took a swallow of his coffee.
“Will you move into our house? Live with us?” She spoke without looking at him, as if fearing what she might see on his face.
“That’s up to your mother and me. But wherever I live, Courtney, you will be an important part of my life. An essential part. I promise you.”
Silence.
“Is she mad at me?”
He didn’t have to ask who she was. “I think scared and worried is more like it.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“There’s plenty of time for me to get mad at you when we sort this out. I think all parents get mad at their kids at some time or other.” He smiled. “How often I get mad and how much will depend on you.”
More silence.
“Do you want to live with us?”
Did he? Could he forgive Julia so easily? More than his anger was a fierce sense of protectiveness, and a different kind of rage, this one aimed at Charles Patterson and Rod Maguire. He’d take care of the situation in his own way. And if he put everything else aside, he’d never stopped loving Julia. Not even his anger and pain now could disguise his feelings or displace them. So yes, he wanted to live with Julia and Courtney. As a family.
“Yes,” he told her. “I do. As soon as your mother and I…fix some things.”
“Are you as mad at her for not telling you as I am?”
Luke knew this was an important question. “I don’t think mad is the word. Hurt, maybe. And sorry I’ve missed out on so much of your life. But we have plenty of time now to make up for it.”
It took the better part of another hour before Courtney finally ran down and exhaustion grabbed her.
“How about if you bunk in the guest room?” he asked gently. “I’ll call your mother and work it out with her. That okay with you?”
Her eyelids were already drooping. “Yeah. If you want me to, I mean.”
“You have no idea how much.” He hoped his words conveyed how he felt.
“All right, then.”
She was asleep seconds after her head hit the pillow. Luke left the door cracked open in case she had a nightmare or got scared in the middle of the night. Then he called Julia.
“She’s fine,” he assured her when she insisted she was coming right down there. “Go to bed, Julia. And have someone bring you here in the morning. Let me talk to Claire.”
But it was Andy who came on the phone. “We’ll make sure she gets to bed,” he told Luke. “I know you and Mom have a lot to talk about, but Beth and I would like to bring her to your place in the morning and take everyone out to breakfast.” He hesitated. “If that’s okay.”
How many times had he heard that phrase already tonight?
“Yes. Good. Then you can take Courtney home so your mother and I can take care of business.”
“Thank you, sir. We’ll see you about nine o’clock. I don’t think we can keep her away longer than that.”
Luke actually found himself laughing. “No, I guess you’re right. Nine o’clock it is. And bring some clothes for your sister.”
Epilogue
“Luke, could you zip up my dress, please?” Julia called.
The dress was a pain in the rear, and expensive as hell to boot. But the moment she‘d tried it on,
