Cathie Linz - Daddy In Dress Blues

The little girl just nodded but didn’t say a word. Blue’s brown hair was tied up into two lopsided pigtails. Her blue jeans and white T-shirt were crisp with newly bought stiffness, and her black patent shoes shone. She wore a beat-up lime-green thin jacket better suited for San Diego than the chilliness of late March in the Midwest. She didn’t appear to have a backpack or any school supplies yet.

After introducing Blue to the rest of the class as well as Jessica’s two teaching assistants, Lisa Yu and Tawanna Houston, Jessica teamed Blue up with another little girl, Susan, who was the most outgoing in class and had the biggest heart. “Why don’t you show Blue where she can put her coat?” Jessica suggested to Susan. “Then we’ll begin story hour, and Blue can sit next to you.”

Once the two girls had moved away, Jessica spoke to Curt in a quick undertone. “You can’t just sneak out after leaving Blue in a new classroom. I want to make sure that she knows you’re coming back for her. You need to tell her that. If you sneak out, you’re breaking the trust she’s placed in you.” Just like you broke the trust I placed in you all those years ago. The thought streaked through Jessica’s mind before she shoved it aside. She refused to give in to the past. She had a job to do here. “It would have been best if her mother could have been here with you,” Jessica added.

“Her mother is dead,” Curt said.

She blinked at the terseness of his announcement and the lack of emotion with which it was delivered. “I’m sorry to hear that, but in that case it’s even more important that you don’t sneak out on Blue. You’re all she’s got, and she needs to know that even though you’re leaving now, you’ll be coming back for her later.”

He shifted impatiently. “Why can’t you tell her that?”

“Because I’m not her parent, you are.”

The noise level in the room suddenly rose as the small group of preschoolers sensed their teacher’s distraction and decided to make the most of it. Grabbing the sheep off her desk, the one with a big brass bell around its furry neck, Jessica shook the sheep and made the bell ring.

Recognizing her quiet signal, all the students made the universal shush signal. Except for the class hellion, four-year-old Brian, who rushed forward to tug on Curt’s sleeve. “Do you drive a tank? Are you stronger than Hercules?”

Curt just stared at the boy as if he were an alien creature before saying, “I left my tank at work. And I need to get back to it now,” he added with a pointed look in Jessica’s direction.

“Then we’ll leave you alone so you can talk to Blue for a minute,” Jessica replied with a look just as pointed. “Come along, Brian. Which book do you think we should read for storytelling today?”

Although she stepped aside to give Curt and his daughter some privacy, her classroom wasn’t big enough, nor Curt’s voice soft enough to prevent her from hearing what he said to Blue. “Okay, here’s the plan. I’ll be leaving you at this facility and will return to pick you up at fifteen hundred hours.”

It was as if Curt were speaking to one of his recruits, not a child. The man clearly didn’t have a clue how to deal with his daughter, who just stared at him while nervously nibbling her lower lip.

Gathering her up into a hug as Curt made a hurried departure, Jessica said, “You’re going to be having lots of fun with us, and you’ll be seeing your daddy again before you know it.”

“He don’t like me,” Blue whispered unsteadily.

“Oh, honey, what makes you say that?”

“He said so.”

Curt was behind schedule and he hated it. He prided himself on getting the mission accomplished—whether it was a mission in Iraq or registering his kid in preschool.

His kid. He still couldn’t get over the fact that he had a daughter.

It had been a hell of a week. On Monday he’d gotten the final report from the medics informing him that the limp the sniper’s bullet had left him with would most likely be permanent and would result in his being reassigned to a desk job. Frustration at his reassignment gnawed at him. He was a doer, not a damn paper-pusher.

And what had Fate done to help him out in his time of need? Delivered an almost-baby daughter he hadn’t even known he’d had on his doorstep. That had only been three days ago.

The child welfare worker had filled in the blanks. It seems that Gloria, the earthy cocktail waitress he’d had a short interlude with in San Diego nearly four years ago before he’d been transferred and shipped overseas, had had his baby.

Curt was no idiot. He’d known that Gloria had a thing for marines and that he hadn’t been the only man in her life. But it had only taken one look at the little girl to know she was his. The strawberry-colored birthmark just above her knee matched the one he had on his own leg.

The kid was his. He had a daughter.

Presto, he was a father.

Curt knew he was totally unqualified for the job. He hadn’t known his own father, who’d taken off before he was born. But Curt wouldn’t take off on Blue. He wouldn’t desert her. He lived up to his responsibilities. He was a marine, by God.

Not that his uniform had impressed Blue’s teacher. She’d looked at him as if he were pond scum. And ordered him around. Curt wasn’t used to taking orders from a civilian. And he hated feeling like a raw recruit who was incompetent.

So he was no pro at this parenting stuff. How hard could it be? He was a member of the United States Marine Corps with a legacy of duty, strength, sacrifice, discipline and determination. He had a feeling he’d need all those things and more to measure up in that disapproving teacher’s book.

The minute Jessica let herself into her Lincoln Square condo, she kicked off her shoes and grabbed her cell phone. She dumped her tote bag filled with school work on the floor before sitting on the denim couch. The blue corduroy jumper she wore was baggy enough that she had lots of room to curl her legs beneath her, a pose she resorted to whenever she was extremely nervous.

Normally she’d change into comfortable sweats as soon as she got home, but today she needed to talk to her best friend, Amy Weissman, before doing anything else. She’d known Amy since they’d shared a freshman English class in high school.

“You’ll never guess who walked into my classroom this morning,” Jessica said. “Curt Blackwell.”

“Curt ‘Bad Boy’ Blackwell?” Amy’s voice reflected her disbelief. “From high school?”

“The one and only.” And he’d been Jessica’s one and only in more ways than one. The only one who’d captured her heart with the total surrender of first love. The only one she’d given her virginity to. The only one who’d ever kicked her in the teeth afterward.

She didn’t have to vocalize any of those things to her best friend. Amy already knew. “Tell me he’s come crawling back to you after all these years, and you shoved his tonsils down his throat,” Amy growled, never one to be docile in her defense of her friends.

“Not exactly. He didn’t even recognize me. He came to register his daughter in my preschool class.”

“Oh, Jessica, I’m so sorry.”

Jessica closed her eyes and saw herself as a senior in high school, the nerdy brain and social misfit, the only girl in her class who didn’t have a date for the prom. And then there was Curt, the bad boy she’d had a crush on since her freshman year. When she’d run across a tipsy Curt behind the public library on prom night and he’d flashed his wicked smile at her, she’d finally given in to her feelings and they’d ended up making love in the back seat of his beat-up Mustang.

She could still remember the smell of fresh-cut grass drifting through the open window of his car, the scratchy feel of the cracked vinyl of the seat against her bare thigh, the sound of her name on his lips and the heat of his hand on her skin—the forbidden passion and the incredible outcome. Her only thoughts had been of him, her only wish to be with him.