Dockside (19 page)

The waitress brought dessert—a big wedge of berry pie for Greg, a dish of melon sorbet for Nina.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want her to marry some guy just because of the baby,” he said. “A person can only pretend for so long, but eventually the misery catches up with you. I mean, her—Daisy.”

Nina suspected that Greg had just told her the story of his marriage in a nutshell. “Maybe you should explain this to Daisy.”

“No. That wouldn’t be fair. She needs to make up her own mind.”

“She’ll have an easier time doing that if you tell her from the heart what you think.”

“I’m not so sure. Over the past year, dealing with my daughter has been a roller-coaster ride. Can I ask you something personal?”

She lifted her eyebrows. “I can’t promise I’ll answer, but since I just told you my life’s story, you might as well ask.”

“What’s the story with Sonnet’s father? I mean, I know she’s with him now, but…”

Oh, boy, thought Nina. This was her doing. She’d dived right into the conversation. She should have expected the question. “Does it matter to you?”

“I just wonder how you handled it. Sonnet’s father, I mean.”

She folded her arms on the Formica table and looked at him. “It’s kind of a long story.”

T
here was no ceremony quite so auspicious as graduation from the United States Military Academy. Nina didn’t attend, of course, but as she sat in Veterans Memorial Park in West Point, paging nervously through the schedule of activities in the local paper she’d picked up, there appeared to be no end of meetings, receptions, celebrations and galas. And, of course, the ceremony itself. The front of the journal bore the iconic photograph—a thousand hats flung into the air, sailing against the bright blue sky.

Nina and Jenny had driven down with Sonnet, who had napped through the hour-long trip. Never had Nina been so grateful for Jenny’s friendship. This promised to be one of the most difficult days of Nina’s life, and Jenny insisted on being there to watch Sonnet while Nina met with Laurence. They’d arranged to meet at the local park, which had stately shade trees, manicured grass and a well-equipped playground. As the appointed time drew near, Nina’s nerves wound up to the point of physical pain. She was sitting on a bench by the statue of George Washington Goethals, West Point Class of 1880. He had designed and built the Panama Canal, among other things. Nina had read the commemorative plaque at least a dozen times and currently knew way too much about Colonel Goethals.

“Lookit me, Mamma, lookit!” Sonnet yelled, lurching back and forth on a spring horse while Jenny stood by.

“Wow,” Nina called across the playground, “you’re a cowgirl.” She tried not to sound distracted, but what else could she do? This was her last chance to meet with the father of her child before he got orders and was sent to his first command, possibly overseas. She gripped the edge of the bench she was sitting on to keep herself from bolting. Every instinct she had shrieked at her to flee—just grab Sonnet, strap her into the booster seat in the back of her secondhand Ford LTD and run like hell.

No. She schooled herself to stay where she was. She needed to do this, for Sonnet’s sake. No child should ever be deprived of her father. She was fast approaching the age where she was starting to wonder, and Nina didn’t ever want to lie to her or evade the question.

Restless, Nina couldn’t sit still any longer. She got up and walked over to Jenny and Sonnet.

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this,” Nina said to Jenny.

Jenny gave her hand a quick squeeze, putting on a fake-tragic expression. “And to think I gave up a whole day of bookkeeping at the bakery for this.” She cast a fond glance at Sonnet. “She’ll thank you one day. She deserves to know who her father is.”

Nina swallowed hard, nodded briefly. “I…um…couldn’t tell how Laurence felt when I talked to him on the phone. Besides completely shocked, that is. I never really knew him, which is so strange when you think about it, since he completely changed my life.”

“I guess you’ll find out what he thinks pretty soon,” Jenny said. “This is such a gift you are giving Sonnet. At least she’ll know. I’ve spent my life wondering who my father is. Every day I stare into the mirror and try to see him. I look around at men who might have known my mother, and I go crazy wondering. I’ll tell you, my mother might have her reasons for walking away from me when I was little, but the one thing I can never get over is the fact that she never told anyone who my father is.”

Only Nina knew how much Jenny had struggled with the pain of that mystery. It was one of the reasons Nina had finally called Laurence Jeffries and requested this meeting. The other reason came from yet another man Nina barely knew—Greg Bellamy. Seeing him with his little daughter at Willow Lake had reminded Nina that, no matter how hard she worked or how much she loved Sonnet, she could never fill the place of a father in her child’s life. Sonnet would be just fine without a father. She had strong male influences from Nina’s father and brothers, and she seemed to be a naturally sturdy child. Yet Nina didn’t want to take advantage of Sonnet’s nature. She wanted to answer the questions her daughter hadn’t yet asked her, starting now.

The sound of a car door slamming startled Nina.

“Well,” said Jenny with a bright smile. “Sonnet and I will be over there on the seesaw.” She sent a meaningful look over Nina’s shoulder, then hurried away, towing Sonnet by the hand behind her. They joined a laughing, shouting crowd of kids around the jungle gym.

Nina knew what that look meant. She smoothed her suddenly sweaty hands down her sides, and turned to face him.

Oh, Lord.

How on earth could this be the shy, awkward boy she’d known so briefly—but so thoroughly—four summers ago?

This was a perfectly groomed man in uniform, striding toward her with single-minded purpose. His posture was flawless, his stride purposeful as he approached her. He was commanding, intimidating, compelling—a handsome, storybook prince come to life.

Pierced by his flinty, intense stare, Nina felt her much-prepared speech evaporate. “Thanks for coming,” she said.

“Nothing would have kept me from coming.” He stood implacably before her, as stiff and formal as a six-foot GI Joe.

Nina couldn’t tell what this overbearing stance was—a facade of self-confidence or a cover for his quaking fear? She could see him scanning the area, his Terminator gaze seeking a target but not finding one, since the distant playground was overrun by kids of all shapes, sizes and colors.

“Where’s the child?” The barked question rang like a command, the sort designed to intimidate his inferiors.

Nina laughed briefly, and she could tell from his reaction that he wasn’t used to getting this particular response. “You don’t need to do this,” she stated, oddly feeling less threatened now. “And furthermore, you can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“Intimidate me. Or bully me, or whatever it is you’re doing.”

“I’m not—”

“I gave birth in an ambulance without anaesthesia. I’ve raised a kid on my own for three years while holding a job and going to school, so by now, nothing can intimidate me. Certainly not you.”

He glared at her, stone-faced. “That wasn’t my intent.”

He even spoke differently now, in clipped, articulated imperatives. Nina refused to flinch. “I’m doing this as a courtesy to you and because it’s something Sonnet deserves to know about herself. But if you think for one minute I’ll tolerate you acting all GI Joe around her, you’re dead wrong.”

“But I—”

“At ease, soldier,” she said. “Or this meeting is over.”

His eyes surrendered first. They turned from flinty to worried. The taut lines of his face softened, and his impeccable posture relaxed the slightest bit. Nina gestured at the swarm of kids. “My daughter Sonnet is over there on the seesaw, with my friend Jenny. I’ll introduce you in a minute. But she’s so little. You’ve got to promise—”

“I gave you my word of honor on the phone,” he interrupted.

And of course, a West Point man’s word of honor was legendary. She had to trust it. He’d assured her that he would respect the fact that he was a complete stranger to Sonnet. He agreed that she needed to get to know him gradually. At her age, she had only a rudimentary grasp of the concept of
father.
She would have to grow into an understanding. Nina hoped Sonnet would come to know her father as a good man who happened to live far away.

As his gaze settled on Sonnet, his mask fell away. There was a flicker of naked pain, and in those few seconds, Nina saw the bashful boy she remembered, and she could see precisely where Sonnet got her regal beauty. She had her father’s high-cut cheekbones and gorgeous black eyes; she even had that physical presence—an athlete at ease in her own skin. On the phone, Nina had assured Laurence that this meeting was all about Sonnet, about banishing doubts as to her identity for the child’s sake. This was not about trapping Laurence or squeezing child support from him. Nina had told him earlier that she would agree to a blood test. But the moment she saw them together, she knew anyone with eyes could see the resemblance.

“She’s…oh, sweet Jesus.” He paused, cleared his throat. Then he turned to Nina. “You should’ve told me about her a long time ago.”

“I thought about doing just that,” Nina said. “I almost did, many times. But it would have ruined your career at West Point. And for what? I didn’t want you to marry me, didn’t want your help raising her. I had my family for support. Telling you would have done nothing but derail all your plans for the future.”

He didn’t deny it. “A part of me is grateful for that. But another part…” He looked again at Sonnet, and the power of speech seemed to leave him.

Nina refused to apologize. She didn’t want either of them to regret something they couldn’t change. “What we need to do is figure this out,” she said, catching Jenny’s eye and waving her over. “Keeping in mind what’s best for Sonnet.”

“Of course.” He stood and waited as Jenny and Sonnet approached, hand-in-hand. Laurence was clearly at a loss; he looked as though he was about to salute them. His eyes seemed to devour her, taking in every detail of Sonnet’s appearance.

“Don’t be scary,” Nina advised, acutely aware that this man had zero experience with children. She’d had time to grow into parenthood; he had mere minutes. “Just smile and get down on her level and let her come to you.” Then Nina demonstrated, opening her arms to Sonnet. “Hey, kiddo. Did you have fun on the seesaw?”

“Yep. I went really high,” Sonnet said in her Minnie Mouse voice, launching herself at Nina. Her cotton-candy scent filled Nina, making her smile as it nearly always did.

Jenny quietly introduced herself to Laurence. Then she excused herself and moved away, giving them privacy.

“Baby, I want you to meet…my friend,” Nina said cautiously. “His name is Laurence Jeffries.”

“Hello.” Sonnet pressed herself against Nina, gazing up at the stranger.

“Hi.” Following Nina’s advice, he went down on one knee as though genuflecting—or assuming the position to fire a gun. Even so, he was still tall and imposing. “I’m very glad to meet you, Sonnet.”

“Sonnet Maria Romano,” she said dutifully. Nina had taught her to introduce herself. “I found a garnet.” She dug in her pocket and held out a stone in her slightly grubby palm. Rough garnets were common in the area, and one of Sonnet’s uncles had shown her how to spot them. Though she eagerly held out her prize, she also kept a tight grip on Nina with her other hand.

Nina was proud of her little girl’s precocious intelligence and grown-up-sounding speech. Sometimes Nina had to remind herself that Sonnet was too young to understand complicated matters. Despite her sophisticated vocabulary, she couldn’t be expected to comprehend the fact that the handsome soldier before her was her father.

“That
is
a garnet,” Laurence said. “You’re lucky to find it.”

“You keep it,” Sonnet said. “For a present.”

The offering brought the first genuine smile to his face as he put out his hand, palm up. “I sure will,” he said. “Thank you, Sonnet. I’ll keep it forever. I’ll never lose it.”

She beamed at him. “Okay.”

For a second, her tiny hand disappeared inside his and the three of them were connected—Nina, Sonnet and Laurence, a family of sorts. The thought made Nina dizzy with a sweep of euphoria. Maybe…

A car door slammed again, and they all turned. Laurence snapped back into military mode, straight as a steel sword blade. Nina hoisted Sonnet into her arms.

“This is Angela Hancock,” Laurence said as a beautiful, well-dressed woman joined them. “Angela, this is Nina and Sonnet Romano.”

She was, in her own way, as scary and self-possessed as he—a tall, graceful Nubian princess to his storybook prince. “How do you do,” she said.

“Angela’s my fiancée,” he continued. “We’re getting married in a week.”

Ah, thought Nina. No wonder the guy was a wreck. It wasn’t all about her or even all about Sonnet. She mustered a smile and said, “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Angela said.

Nina set Sonnet down. “Go play with Jenny on the swings, baby.” As the little girl ran off, Nina turned to Angela. “I realize this whole situation is awkward. I’ve explained to Laurence that I don’t intend to make any trouble,” she stated. “I simply want my daughter to know who fathered her.”

“Of course.” Angela had a lovely, resonant voice, like a stage actress. She was remarkably calm and seemed oddly familiar.

Nina suspected Laurence had prepared her as much as possible for the meeting. “How you and Laurence deal with this is your business. I’m not making any demands.”

“Indeed.”

“I keep thinking we’ve met.” Nina felt apologetic, which was annoying. She owed no explanation or apology to anyone. “Have we?”

“Angela’s father is the Reverend George Simon Hancock,” Laurence said, shining with pride. “She’s been with his ministry, so maybe you saw her on TV.”

“Maybe,” Nina said, though she could safely say she had never watched a gospel ministry on TV. Still, she reminded herself to be generous. After all, Nina had Sonnet. So it was only right that Laurence would get someone like Angela—gorgeous, famous and an evangelist’s daughter. “I hope you two will be very happy together,” she said, then faced Laurence. “I meant what I said, about not wanting anything but for Sonnet to know who you are. What you tell people is up to you.” Although privately, she admitted she would find it very interesting to see him telling the famous Reverend Hancock that he’d had a child with a white woman. “I thought you might want to write her a letter for her to read when she’s old enough to understand. And I guess, if she wants, maybe you’d like to visit her once in a while,” she said. “That will be enough.”