Stubbornness and pride settled on his face and for what seemed like an eternity, she thought he was going to balk, but then he stroked her hair again and his expression turned sad. “I’ll talk to him,” he told her.
It was a concession, but she needed more. This was too important for half measures. “And listen to what he says?” she prodded.
He turned away from her, reaching for the pitcher of water on the stand beside his bed. He poured it with a hand that shook.
“Dad,” she said. “Please.”
He took a sip of water, then frowned at her. “You going to pester me till I say yes?”
“I am,” she said.
“Okay, then, I’ll listen,” he said.
This time she was the one filled with suspicion. She sensed she’d inadvertently left a loophole in there. “Let me rephrase,” she said, her heart suddenly lighter. “You’ll do what he says.”
“I’ll listen,” he repeated.
“Daddy!”
“Okay,” he said at last. “For you I’ll follow his advice.”
She leaned down and rested her head on his chest. “Thank you, Daddy.”
His arms came around her in an awkward embrace. “I love you, sweetheart. I really do. And I am so sorry for not having said that nearly enough.”
“You said it now,” she whispered, her heart full.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Tom was worried sick about Jeanette. She’d sounded more and more exhausted each time he spoke to her, but to his relief she was finally coming home today, this time for good. She’d made it home for a few hours on Thanksgiving, but had returned almost at once to Charleston to oversee her father’s rehab until he was recovering to her satisfaction both physically and emotionally.
Maddie had gone to pick her up this morning because he couldn’t get away. Howard wanted the whole committee on the town square while the Christmas decorations were being put into place, even though the work was being done by town employees under Ronnie’s supervision.
“I’ve never decorated a tree in my life,” Tom had protested in a vain attempt to get out of standing around observing. “Much less installed snowflakes on light poles.”
His words fell on deaf ears.
“You lived in a house that was on the holiday tour every year in Charleston,” Howard had reminded him. “I saw pictures of it in the paper. Some of that expertise must have rubbed off.”
“It didn’t,” Tom had said.
“What if there’s some sort of crisis or a problem crops up? As town manager, it’s your duty to be there tomorrow to deal with it, and that’s that,” Howard had said. “The tree’s being delivered first thing in the morning. I want you on the square when it’s unloaded.”
Which was why Tom was standing outside at 7:00 a.m. on an unseasonably cold morning that felt more like New York than South Carolina. He could see his breath in the air and not even his thickest sweater and heavy coat could keep the chill out of his bones. Ronnie, thank heaven, had brought a huge Thermos of coffee from Sullivan’s, which was helping somewhat. Erik had gone in early to brew it for them.
“Do you look so miserable because you don’t want to be here, because you’re cold or because you’re missing Jeanette?” Ronnie asked as the tree was hoisted off the truck and into place in the center of the square. As its webbing was cut away, the branches spread out in all their fullness. It was impressive, no question about it. It wasn’t the tree at Rockefeller Center or the White House, but it wouldn’t fit inside any building in town, that’s for sure.
“All of the above,” Tom said. “I’m the one who should be picking Jeanette up this morning.”
“Maddie’s capable of bringing her home safely.”
“Not the point,” Tom muttered.
Ronnie grinned. “You hoping to score more points? I have it on good authority that your balance is already pretty high.”
Tom frowned. “Also, not the point.”
“Exactly how long has it been since you laid eyes on her?”
“Four days,” Tom admitted. “I ran over to the rehab center a couple of days after Thanksgiving, but since then Howard’s had me jumping through hoops. You’d think Christmas in Serenity depended on me single-handedly overseeing every detail. You’d think he’d care more about whether the potholes are filled or the bridge is going to fall down.”
“You’re the town manager,” Ronnie reminded him with an amused expression. “He has you to worry about all of those things...and this.”
Tom ignored the comment and focused on the huge tree, which was wobbling precariously. “How the devil are they planning to anchor that thing securely? I can see our liability rates soaring if it falls over and crushes a bunch of kids.”
“Now, there’s a cheery thought,” Ronnie said. “You’re just what every holiday celebration needs—a genuine Ebenezer Scrooge.”
“Believe me, you, Howard and Mary Vaughn more than make up for it. Someone needs to be practical.”
Ronnie didn’t even try to hide his amusement. “This from the man who dug into his own pocket just to get a Christmas tree that Jeanette had her heart set on.”
Tom frowned. “How did you find out about that?”
“Teresa told me you wrote a personal check to the tree farmer when the bill came in.”
“That woman has a big mouth. I should fire her.”
“But you won’t,” Ronnie predicted. “She’s too good at her job.”
“True,” Tom conceded just as his cell phone rang. He glanced at caller ID and saw Jeanette’s number. He felt his shoulders relax for the first time all morning. “Hey,” he said softly. “You on your way home?”
“Maddie’s picking me up in a few minutes. I should be there in an hour or so.”
“Want to have lunch?”
“I should probably go straight to work.”
“Not before you eat,” he said. “I know you haven’t been eating properly since you’ve been hanging around the hospital and I doubt that improved after you got your dad settled in rehab.”
“I ate every bit of food you brought