Days Like This (13 page)

“Why are you staring at me?” she demanded.

“I guess I’m just wondering how a
guy with an ugly mug like mine managed to create a kid as good-looking as you.”

“You’re not ugly.  Besides, you
had help.”

He tried to picture Sandy’s face,
but it had been too many years, and his memories were vague and indistinct.  Guilt
gnawed at his gut.  He and Sandy had dated off and on for nearly two years. 
Shouldn’t he be able to remember her more clearly?  In his own defense, it
hadn’t been any great love match.  She’d been his sister’s best friend, and
their relationship had been based more on proximity than passion.  For the most
part, it had been—and he hated to use this word, but it was the only word that
fit—casual.  At least from his point of view.  They’d had fun together, but the
relationship had been so unremarkable that he barely remembered its final death
knell.  Their parting had been so low-key, he wasn’t sure they’d even said
good-bye.  It had simply been understood that he was leaving for New York and
moving on with his life, and Sandy was staying behind in Boston.  Not once had
he considered asking her to come with him.  It hadn’t been that serious a
relationship.

Besides, Sandy wasn’t the only
girl he’d been involved with.  When their off-and-on relationship had been in on
mode, they were monogamous, but during their off periods, there had been other
girls.  He was a young guy, and he’d done what young guys do:  whored around,
just because he could.  But he hadn’t been stupid.  He’d always practiced safe
sex.  It hadn’t occurred to him that there might be consequences, until now, at
the advanced age of thirty-seven.  Paige might not even be his only offspring. 
In spite of the precautions he’d taken, there could be other kids out there
carrying his DNA.  After all, he and Sandy had been careful, and look how that
had turned out.

The thought was terrifying.  He
supposed there came a time in every man’s life when his past came back to bite
him on the ass.  His personal Day of Reckoning.  If so, Rob MacKenzie had just
met up with his.  Nothing could slam reality home to a man more quickly than
the knowledge that he’d fathered a child.  Or the understanding that there
could be others.  All those years, he’d thought he was being so careful, but
the teenage girl running beside him was living proof that at least once, he
hadn’t been as careful as he’d thought.

And then, there was the whole
mortality issue.  This wasn’t the first time that knowledge of his own
mortality had stared him in the eyeballs.  For most of his life, time had been
of little consequence.  He’d simply lived from one day to the next, blissfully unaware
of the passage of the years.  Until Danny died, and he found himself lost,
rudderless, acutely and painfully aware that he was well past thirty and his
life was going nowhere. 

It had been Casey who saved him. 
He didn’t believe she even knew that he’d been hanging on by his fingernails
and about to go splat on the pavement.  It was her friendship, her love, her
warmth and tenderness, that had pulled him back from the edge. By that time, he
was in love with her, fully and desperately.  But he understood that if he
pushed, he might lose her.  So for the first time in his life, he familiarized
himself with two utter strangers:  patience and celibacy. For nearly two years,
he’d led a solitary and celibate existence while he waited for his best
friend’s widow to come to the same conclusion he’d already reached:  that they were
meant to be together.

“So,” Paige said, dragging him
back to the present, “why’d you desert us?”

He realized they’d been running
for some time, had actually picked up speed, yet she hadn’t lagged, didn’t seem
tired or winded, hadn’t even broken a sweat.  He was beginning to get the
distinct impression that he’d been hustled.  “I don’t know how many ways I can
say this, but I didn’t desert you.  I never knew you existed.”  He quickened
his pace, lengthened his stride, watched as she effortlessly adjusted hers to
match his.  “I thought you weren’t a runner.”

“I never said I wasn’t a runner. 
Are you calling my mom a liar?”

“You might not have said it, but
you clearly implied that you weren’t into running.  And let’s just say that
your mother’s interpretation of the situation differs from mine.”

“My mom was a saint.  And I
didn’t imply anything.  You chose to believe what you wanted to believe.”

“As did you.”

“I happen to believe what she
told me.  Why would she have any reason to lie?”

“You tell me.  You sure as hell
knew her better than I did.”

“I run on Carson Beach at low
tide.  Three times a week.  And she said you left because you didn’t want the
responsibility of a kid.”

“That’s not a safe place for a
young girl to run alone.  And what your mother said is utter bullshit.”

“I’m not stupid. I carry pepper
spray.  It’s a moot point now anyway, since I’m a world away from Carson Beach. 
And you
are
calling her a liar.”

“My leaving had nothing to do
with you.  I moved to Manhattan with Casey and Danny to further my career. 
Your mother never told me she was pregnant.”

“And if she had, would you have
stayed?”

He hesitated for just an instant
too long.  Paige snorted.  “Right.  That’s about what I thought.”

She was watering her flower
garden when they came back from their run.  Casey leaned back on her heels, set
the hose to mist, and watched them approach.  Father and daughter, two long,
lean bodies, so alike it was scary.  They separated, walked up the driveway
individually, Paige a half-dozen paces ahead of her father.  She passed Casey
without acknowledging her, flounced up the steps and into the shed, and slammed
the kitchen door.  A moment later, M.C. Hammer began rapping in glorious,
vibrant stereo. 

Rob approached more slowly,
looking tired and defeated.  He glanced at her, shook his head, and kept
walking.

Oh, boy.

She gave him his space, finished
watering the garden, came back inside and started her morning household chores,
gradually working her way from the kitchen to the upstairs bathroom.  Picked up
his wet towel from the bathroom floor and hung it over the shower rod, made their
bed, opened the blinds to allow morning light to spill in.  Then she went back
downstairs and heated a pot of water.  She prepared two cups of Earl Grey and, teacups
in hand, went outside in search of her husband.

She found him exactly where she’d
expected, on the porch swing, his favorite spot.  Slumped on his tailbone, his
hair damp from the shower and his long legs stretched out, bony ankles propped
on the porch railing, he swung listlessly in the sweet morning air.

She sat down carefully beside
him, handed him a steaming cup of Earl, kept the other for herself.  “Hey,” she
said.

“Hey.”  He balanced the cup
against his thigh, dangerously close to an area where no man wanted to be
scalded.  “Thanks.”

She waited with bated breath until
he raised the cup.  “You okay?”

“I’ve been better.”

“What happened?”

“She was right.  That’s what
happened.”

“About?”

“She asked me if I would’ve
stayed in Boston if I’d known Sandy was pregnant.  I couldn’t tell her yes. 
Because it would have been a lie.”  Troubled green eyes sought hers.  “What
kind of hypocrite does that make me?”

She rested a hand on his thigh, smoothed
worn denim with gentle fingertips.  “There is not a hypocritical bone in your
body, MacKenzie.”

“That first time we talked on the
phone, I told her that if I’d known about her, I would’ve been there from the
beginning.  But it’s not really true.  There’s no way I would have stayed in
Boston.  You and I and Danny—we had places to go, things to do, people to see. 
I had a budding career as a musician, and that took precedence over
everything.  Every. Damn. Thing.  Oh, I wouldn’t have left the two of ‘em high
and dry, but I would have been a long-distance dad.  I would’ve sent money
whenever I could, but think about how poor we were.  Pretty soon, the money
would’ve stopped, too.  Let’s face it.  I would’ve been a shitty father, no
matter what.”

“Come on, Rob.  You were
twenty-two years old.  Just a kid.  You weren’t ready to be anybody’s father. 
Not financially, not emotionally.”

He let out a soft, cynical
laugh.  “Hell, I’m not sure I’m ready yet.”

“And don’t you think maybe Sandy
knew that?  And that’s why she never told you?  She knew you well enough to understand
that you would have tried, and failed.  And failing would have broken your
heart, and Paige’s.  Because you would have loved that little baby to
distraction.  You just wouldn’t have known how to be a father to her.  Sandy probably
believed her daughter would be better off with no father than she would be
losing one she’d come to love.  So she protected Paige, by keeping the truth
from both of you.  And her heart was the only one broken.”

Somber green eyes studied her
over the rim of his teacup.  “Maybe,” he said.

“I’ve been a mother.  I
understand sacrifice.  And heartbreak.”

He reached out, touched a strand
of her hair.  “Yeah,” he said.  “You do.” 

“It’ll be okay.  Just give her
some time.”

He was quiet for a while,
considering.  Finally said, “But how do I make it up to her?  Fifteen years of
not being there for her?  I don’t know what I should do.”

“There’s nothing you can do.  You
can’t make it up to her.  It’s too late for that.  Those fifteen years are
lost.  You can only move on from here.”

He let out a long, poignant
sigh.  Said, “Ah, shit.”

She leaned back, propped her bare
feet on his legs, and rested her cheek against his shoulder.  Studying the row
of pink roses that ran along the rim of her teacup, she said, “Will this be us
in fifty years?  Sitting on the porch swing with our walkers and our hearing
aids, drinking Earl Grey and talking about our glory days?”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

“Are you kidding, MacKenzie?  I
would be honored to still be drinking Earl Grey with you fifty years down the
road.”

“This is why I married you.  All
that wisdom you’re so good at dispensing.  You always seem to have the answer
to my problems.  And it’s a definite plus that I don’t have to pay a shrink
three hundred bucks an hour, since you dispense advice for free.”

“I’m flattered.  Even though you
make me sound like a vending machine.”

“You should be flattered.  I
meant it in only the most positive of ways.”

“And here I thought it was my
drop-dead-gorgeous legs that attracted you to me.”

“That, too.  But it was mostly
the wisdom.  Hey, I’m sorry I stood you up in favor of the kid.”

“You didn’t stand me up.  We can
run together any time.  I think it’s important for you to spend time with her. 
Even if said time is spent arguing.  You’re building a relationship.  It may be
a prickly one, but at least it’s a starting point.”

He lifted his arm.  She scooted
under it and lay her head against his chest.  He wrapped the arm loosely around
her shoulders.  “What’d I ever do to deserve somebody like you?”

“Two-way road, my friend. 
Two-way road.”

“Excuse the mess,” Luke said,
tossing his amplifier cord into the back seat to make room for her.  Doing her
best to avoid the empty soda cans and fast food wrappers that littered the
floor of the rattletrap old car, Paige climbed into the passenger seat and shut
the door. 

“Nice ride,” she said, settling
in and fumbling with the seatbelt.

“Hey, I inherited it from my mom,
okay?  It was free.  Free makes everything better.  Even dings and dents and
rusty fenders.”

He had a point.  She glanced into
the back seat, where his guitar case lay atop a pile of wrinkled clothes. 
“Dude, if you want to impress chicks, you might want to consider excavating
this deathtrap.  Chicks dig clean, you know.”

“Thanks for the advice.”  Her
cousin adjusted his sunglasses, shifted the car into gear, and backed down the
driveway.

“No offense meant.  I’m just
saying.”

“None taken.”  He looked both
ways, checked his mirrors, backed out into the road, and headed for town.

“So where is practice?”

“My friend Tobey’s place.  On the
River Road, out on the other side of town.  We practice in his garage.”

“And your band mates know I’m
coming?”

“Yeah.  They’re cool with it.”

“So, in other news…I was right.”

“About what?”  Luke tapped the
steering wheel in a rapid, rhythmic motion.

“About
him
,” she said. 
“My old man.  He’s just as much of a dick as I always knew he was.”

He glanced at her from behind
mirrored sunglasses.  “What happened?”

She folded her arms and said, “He
as much as admitted to me that he never wanted me.”

Luke thought about it for a
while.  “That doesn’t sound like him.”

“Yeah, well.”  She shrugged and
glanced out the side window at the lovely view of trees, trees, and more trees.

“What, exactly, did he say?”

“He said that if he’d known my
mom was pregnant, he would’ve moved to New York anyway.”

“Wow.  That’s harsh.”

Bleakly, she said, “I don’t think
he ever loved her.”

“You can’t know that.  You
weren’t there.  Life isn’t black and white.  There are shades of gray.  An
infinite number.”

“You just say that because you
have this twisted hero worship thing going on with him.”

Luke shrugged.  “Maybe.  I just
think you should reserve judgment until you’ve had time to get to know him.”

“What’s there to know?  He’s a
big jerk.  End of story.”

“Your opinion,” her cousin said. 
“Not mine.”

“I guess we’ll just have to agree
to disagree, then, because you’re not changing my mind.”  She was silent for a
time.  Then she said, “Where’s Mikey today?”