Elisabeth Naughton: Wait for Me

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I am now.”

“Good. Me too. I’m gonna go up and get dressed.” She slipped off the chair again and crossed to him. When he eased down, she pulled him in for a tight hug and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad you’re home. I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you, babe.” On a long breath, he watched her head out of the room and up the back stairs. He didn’t need to worry about her so much, but he did. Truth was, she was way more together most of the time than he was. She’d had to grow up much too fast over the past five years. No nine-year-old should have to worry about her father’s state of mind day in and day out, but Julia did.

He raked a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Son of a bitch, she’s growing up way too fast.”

Mitch grinned. “Yeah, I know. You’re gonna be in a world of hurt in a couple of years.”

“I know.” Ryan rubbed a hand over his chest, trying to ease the knot growing there. “Maxim? Where the hell did that come from?” He shook his head. “It scares the crap out of me. Thank God you’re here to shelter some of the blow.”

“Don’t look at me, buddy. I’m not a parent. I reserve the right to turn a blind eye to issues dealing with puberty and sex. I deflect all that crap back to you.”

Ryan grimaced again. “Don’t mention the words puberty and sex in the same sentence with my baby girl.”

Mitch rummaged through the kitchen cupboards, searching for God only knew what. “Where are Kathy and Roger?” Ryan asked, watching him.

“We sent them off to get breakfast. Mom’s been a little…stressed…since the crash yesterday. Too hard for her to deal with. I don’t know that she’s ever gonna get on a plane again. She may just be stuck here for good.”

“God help us,” Ryan muttered. He loved his in-laws, and he appreciated that they flew down from Seattle whenever he needed help with Julia, but a man had limits.

Mitch found a box of Froot Loops in the pantry. “Hot damn!” He leaned back against the counter and fished out a handful of cereal. “I haven’t had this stuff since I was a kid.”

Ryan glanced at the box. “That’s probably from when you were a kid. I don’t remember buying that.”

“All those preservatives? It can’t go bad.” He propped himself up on the counter.

Sinking into a chair at the kitchen table while Mitch munched on stale cereal, Ryan massaged his aching forehead. A tension headache was settling right behind his eyes—the result of no sleep, too much traveling and stress on top of it.

“You look like shit, you know,” Mitch muttered.

“Tell me something I don’t already know.” He hadn’t shaved, he was still in the same clothes he’d worn yesterday, and he felt like he’d been on an emotional roller coaster the last few hours.

“Monique must have worked you over pretty good.”

“About took my head off when I told her I was leaving so soon.”

“I like her. You get tired of her, you pass her on to me.”

Ryan chuckled. “She wouldn’t go for you. She’s not into the outdoorsy type.”

Mitch glanced down at the worn jeans and dirty hiking boots he was wearing. “Are you saying I’m not classy?”

Ryan looked at his brother-in-law. Mitch needed a haircut, his light, brown curly hair was brushing his collar, and the goatee he was experimenting with looked downright pathetic. “I’m saying you don’t have enough class in your left pinky for her.”

“And you do?”

“No, I don’t. But she hasn’t figured that out yet.” He pressed his fingers against his temples. “She’s just using me for sex. One of these days, she’ll figure out I’m a son of a bitch and she’ll drop me on my ass.”

Mitch laughed. “Can’t argue with you there.”

Rising, Ryan stifled a yawn. “You gonna stick around?”

“Yeah, for awhile. At least until Mom and Dad get back.”

“Good. I’m gonna crash.” He patted Mitch on the shoulder as he walked by. “Thanks, buddy.”

“Sure thing.”

Ryan stalked up the kitchen stairs, paused halfway, and glanced back. Just when they were all starting to get on with their lives, Annie’s absence was slamming back into them, this recent crash reminding them what they’d lost. Whether Mitch or Julia wanted to admit it, it had hit them all hard, bringing back memories from five years ago.

He rubbed his aching head and continued up the stairs. Memories swirled through his mind as he flopped down onto the bed in his room. That last day—dropping her off at the airport that morning, kissing her good-bye, rubbing a hand over her flat belly and smiling at the secret she’d told him the night before, leaning in and taking one last whiff of her sweet lilac scent.

He’d give anything for one more hour with her.

His eyes slid shut. Tears he didn’t realize were still there stung his eyes. He had trouble conjuring up her face these days. She was ingrained in his heart and soul forever, but that image was slowly fading from his memory, the edges turning fuzzy. Even her voice, that husky siren voice of hers that had always tugged at something deep in his soul, was hard to bring up now.

He swiped a hand over the burning pain in his chest. Part of him wished like hell it would just go away. The other part was holding on like it was his last lifeline. He’d already lost her once. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing what little of her he had left.

“Knock, knock.”

Kate glanced up from her desk and smiled at the face in her doorway. The first smile she’d felt in days…maybe weeks. As she leaned back in her chair, late afternoon sunlight spilled through the windows of her fourteenth-floor office at McKellen Publishing, bathing her in warmth. “Hey, Tom.”

Tom Adams, her managing editor, dropped into the chair across from her. “Looks like you’re getting settled in.”

She looked over her cramped office. Stacks of journals sat against one wall. A half-empty box was pushed up against the bookshelf. She’d managed to set out a few pictures of Reed, a chunk of conglomerate, an obsidian rock she’d picked up hiking a few months back. Papers littered her desk, and framed art leaned against the wall, waiting to be hung. “Trying to. Not making much progress, I’m afraid.”

“How’s the article coming?” He reached for the glass paperweight shaped like a frog that sat on the corner of her desk. Reed had given it to her for Mother’s Day last spring, during his frog stage. Resting an ankle on his opposite knee, Tom passed the paperweight from hand to hand.

She ran her fingers over her hair, hoping to wipe away some of the tension coursing through her. It wasn’t the job leaving her stressed but being here in San Francisco. So close to the answers she was searching for, so far away from them at the same time. “ Geochemical Discrimination of Five Lava Dams on the Colorado River? It’s coming along.”

“Sounds interesting. Can’t wait to read it.” His hazel eyes sparkled. In the afternoon sunlight, she could just make out a patch of gray hair, right at his temples.

She couldn’t help but laugh. Only a couple of science nerds could enjoy something like that. But she sensed he wasn’t here because he questioned her work. He knew she was competent, that she knew the job inside out. Geology came to her like second nature. He was here because he was worried.

Her lips pursed. “Stop looking at me like I’m going to fall apart. I’m fine, Tom.”

“Are you?” His brow lifted. “I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I didn’t worry.”

“I know. And I appreciate it. But I’m fine. We’re getting by. The place you loaned us in Moss Beach is perfect.”