Marta Perry - A Father's Promise

She wasn’t going to be here long enough to change the way they interacted, she reminded herself.

You have to try, the voice of her conscience prompted. You have to try.

Daniel’s chair scraped. “Better get back to work.”

He started for the door; she got up, too, and followed him to the porch, which wrapped around the old house like a blanket.

“Daniel, may I have a word before you go?”

He glanced at the path to the construction, then seemed to force his gaze back to her. “What is it?”

Maybe this wasn’t a good time to broach the subject. He was impatient to get back to his precious hotel.

Coward, her conscience chided.

“It’s about signing.” She took a deep breath. He’d probably tell her it was none of her business, but she had to try. “I notice you don’t sign very much.”

His frown told her this wouldn’t go well. “I’m no expert, if that’s what you mean.”

“Well, neither is Sarah, but she depends on it. When the people around a deaf child don’t sign constantly, the child is left out of so much.” She sounded as though she was giving a lecture, and his frown had deepened. “I don’t mean to criticize. I just think if you made an effort to sign more…”

He swung away, and for an instant she thought he was going to walk off without even answering her. Then he turned back, his face set.

“You want to know why I don’t sign very well I’ll tell you. My wife took Sarah and left when my daughter was a year old, went clear up to Baltimore to live with her folks. Since then I’ve seen my daughter twice a month, for visits that were too short. Sure, I took lessons, but I guess that just wasn’t enough to make me a pro at signing.”

Then he did walk away.

Leigh leaned against the porch railing, wishing she could erase the last few minutes. She should have guessed that something like that had been wrong, but she’d been so preoccupied with her own problems that she hadn’t thought it through.

Jamie probably knew some of this, but she hadn’t said anything. Not that Leigh had given her much chance. She’d been too busy resenting Jamie’s interference.

She bit her lip, looking down the path Daniel had taken. Should she go after him, apologize? Maybe that would make matters worse. Maybe she’d better just concentrate on Sarah for the time that was left. Because after the mess she’d made of that conversation, it was very unlikely that he’d be pressuring her to stay.

She turned and went back into the dining room. Joe poured another cup of coffee, his dark eyes wary and shuttered when he glanced toward her. He’d heard, of course. He couldn’t have helped it.

“I think it’s time Sarah showed me her room.” She held her hand out to Sarah. “Unless we can help you with the dishes.”

“No, ma’am. I don’t need help.”

And if he did need help, he wouldn’t want it from her; that was clear. Well, naturally he would be on Daniel’s side. But why did they have to choose sides? They all wanted what was best for Sarah.

It was almost time to leave, and what had she accomplished in her day? Leigh straightened the covers on Sarah’s bed and glanced around the room.

Someone had made an effort to create a room a little girl would like. The flowered wallpaper and white woodwork suited the white wicker furniture. The well-used child’s table and chairs looked like an afterthought, brought from someone’s attic.

The baby doll and cradle were no longer in the room. Sarah had carried them downstairs with her a few minutes ago when she went down for milk and cookies with Joe.

Leigh fluffed up the pillow, then turned to the table where she’d been trying to get Sarah to paint. One picture—that was all Sarah had done before she’d gone back to the baby doll. Leigh smiled, picking up the picture. Only one, but it was charming.

Daniel, recognizable by the dark hair and blue jeans, stood on the second story of the construction. He held a hammer. Above him, the blue sky was decorated with fat seagulls, their white wings spread wide.

“Still working?”

She turned at the voice. Daniel leaned against the door frame, looking at her with a half smile. Some thread of tension eased inside her. At least he wasn’t still angry.

“Just cleaning up.” She held out the picture. “Look at this.”

He took the paper, glanced at it, then looked at her, eyes startled. “Sarah did this?”

She smiled. “All by herself. I asked her to paint a picture of her family, and that’s what she came up with. Great, isn’t it?”

“I’ve never seen her paint. Or draw.” He touched the figure holding the hammer. “I didn’t even know we had paints.”

“You didn’t.” Sarah’s belongings consisted primarily of dolls, stuffed animals and toys suitable for a younger child. “I brought them.”

“I guess I should have thought of that.” He looked around the pink-and-white room. “Sarah’s aunt bought most of this stuff for her. I wasn’t sure what she’d like.”

She probably shouldn’t ask, but the question spilled out of her mouth anyway. “What about the doll and cradle?”

His expression grew wary. “What about it?”

“Did you buy it for her?”

“No.” His mouth tightened. “Her aunt Judith did, I think. Anyhow, Judith said it was important to Sarah.” His expression clearly said he didn’t intend to pursue the subject. “You liked your day with Sarah.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes.” She took the picture back from him and fastened it to the closet door, where Sarah could admire her work. “Of course I did.”

“Better than burgers and fried sweet potatoes?”

He was pressing her, and the only possible response was a light one. “I like fried sweet potatoes. Don’t you?”

He took a step closer. “To eat, not to serve.” He made an impatient gesture, as if sweeping away the burgers and sweet potatoes. “Sarah needs you. I want you to stay.”

She’d already given him every reason but the real one. “I…please don’t ask me again, Daniel. I just can’t.”

“Why not?” His dark eyes held hers, demanding an answer.

Anger flickered through her. This wasn’t fair. “Look, I have my reasons. You don’t have the right to push me for explanations.”

“You pushed me.”

She felt the heat flood her cheeks. She’d pressed him for answers, for explanations he’d been clearly reluctant to give. And now she expected him to coddle her tender feelings. Obviously he wasn’t going to.

“I’m sorry for that.”

He shook his head in a swift, determined motion. “You did it because you care about Sarah. Now I want answers for the same reason.”

The mixture of pain and love in his dark eyes undid her. The moment when she could have walked away was gone. She knew both of them too well already. She turned from that gaze and moved to stare out the white-curtained window at sea and sky.

“I let you believe I quit teaching.” It took an effort to keep her voice steady. “That’s not quite true. I was fired.”

“Why?”

His neutral tone surprised her. She’d expected…well, shock, at least.

She took a deep breath. “I taught at a private school…small classes, lots of time to give individual attention. There was one child, Tommy.” Her heart hurt when she thought of Tommy, of how she’d failed him. “He was going through a bad time, his parents splitting up.” Too late she remembered that Daniel’s wife had left him.

“The kid was caught in the middle.”

She nodded. “I tried to help. The father seemed more approachable, so I talked to him, looked for ways we could help Tommy deal with it. Tommy had been making such progress up to then, really coming out of his shell. I didn’t want to see him slip back.”