The Christmas Kiss
Author
Virginia McCullough
Reads
16.9K
Chapters
17
HarlequinChapter One
THE PHOTO OF Parker Davis in the Bluestone River Weekly didn’t do him justice. Not even close. The headshot of the newly hired director of the Hidden Lake Bird Sanctuary had appeared with the article announcing his arrival in town. Emma O’Connell guessed the man with a wide mouth and an appealing cleft in his chin to be around forty or so. If he were a corporate type, his wavy blond hair would need a trim, but the unruly look suited his outdoorsy appearance.
Now, seeing him standing maybe thirty feet away, Emma was drawn to what the photo didn’t show. Like the muscular arms filling the sleeves of his snug black T-shirt. No baggy work pants, either. His sawdust-flecked jeans were a perfect fit, along with the tool belt.
Parker’s hands were braced on a plywood sheet balanced on two sawhorses positioned on the gravel patch at the edge of the woods. He was studying what looked like a blueprint spread out on top of the plywood and anchored with rocks on the four corners.
“Good morning,” Emma called out, surprised he was so deep in concentration he hadn’t already noticed her heading his way.
Seemingly startled, he snapped his head up. “Uh, same to you,” he returned in a flat voice.
She checked the uneven ground in front of her and tightened her grip on her cane as she stepped toward him. When she was almost close enough to extend her arm to shake his hand, she casually tossed the cane a few inches in the air and caught it at the bottom end. She gave it a quick twirl under her arm so the handle pointed toward him. “Appropriate for a visit to a bird sanctuary, don’t you think?”
Carved in the shape of a duck’s head with other birds etched into the stick, her cane always brought some kind of reaction. This time it caused the corners of Parker’s mouth to turn up in a closemouthed smile. Emma preferred photographing landscapes to aiming her camera at people, but she’d have enjoyed catching Parker’s expression in that moment. Much better than the picture in the paper.
“Emma O’Connell. Nice to meet you.” She freed her right hand and held it out to him. He quickly brushed his palm back and forth across his jeans before he shook her hand in a quick, formal way.
“I’ve, uh, heard so much about you,” Parker mumbled.
Not quite enough, Emma thought, or she wouldn’t see such frank surprise in his dark blue eyes looking at her through glasses, also dark blue.
Suddenly aware of how intently she was staring at him, Emma shifted her gaze over his shoulder and waved to two carpenters, a father-son team whose truck she’d noticed in the sanctuary’s parking lot. She knew them from other construction projects, including one on her land. At the moment, Bill and Will Rivera were attaching a railing to supporting slats for the boardwalk-in-progress, the sanctuary’s newest feature. The smell of freshly cut wood mingled with the typical earthy scents of fall after a day of rain. “You got the boardwalk project underway fast. You haven’t been here all that long.”
Parker gestured behind him. “We’re just getting started. A few people from the sanctuary board have dropped by to see what we’re up to, so I’ve got my spiel down pretty well by now. Other people in town hadn’t heard about the boardwalk so I’ve filled in a lot of detail about it, mostly why it’s being added.” He paused. “In your case, I guess I can skip those basics.”
From his low tone, Emma wasn’t sure if Parker thought that was good news or bad. But being a major donor to various Bluestone River projects almost always brought a mix of responses. Long ago, Emma learned it was possible for people who did the hard work of running programs and projects to appreciate her financial contribution, but still be a little apprehensive around her, too. She could almost see people’s guard rising the minute they saw her coming. Like Parker.
She cleared her throat. “The board gave me a set of drawings for the additions to the sanctuary, but that was a formality. They keep me in the loop, even though I’m not involved in running this place.”
Emma wanted—needed—to make it clear she wasn’t there to check up on him. She had nothing to do with hiring him, and certainly had no intention of overseeing the boardwalk construction or any of the work going into reimagining the bird sanctuary. She leaned closer and stage-whispered, “I just throw money at stuff.”
Parker responded with a short but hearty laugh that came from deep in his chest.
Mission accomplished.
Emma walked around him and pointed deeper into the woods. “So beautiful this time of year, huh? Perfect setting for this boardwalk. I’m sure it will attract lots of visitors.”
Parker planted his hands on his hips and nodded. “That’s the idea.”
The deepening creases in his forehead didn’t match the words, but Emma let it go. She sensed the frown was part of Parker covertly studying her. Too bad covert wasn’t his strong suit, because now she had to try to pretend she didn’t notice.
Parker pointed to the carved duck’s head. “That’s a beautiful walking stick, by the way. And like you said, it fits this setting.”
Skipping any explanation of why she needed it, she said, “Matter of fact, it’s made by a local wood carver.”
Indicating the worktable, Parker said, “Come closer, have a look. I’ll show you what we’ve done so far.”
It was only a couple steps to the worktable he’d set up, but she moved carefully and kept her eyes on the natural dips and rises in the ground. The need to consider each movement frustrated her, especially when getting around on flat terrain posed no problem at all.
“We’ll be smoothing out this ground. Filling the holes and creating a gravel walk here. Maybe even a paved one eventually.” Parker twisted halfway around and pointed to the already cleared path snaking through the woods. “The committee covered everything in the design. The boardwalk itself will be wide enough for wheelchairs.”
“I’d heard that,” Emma said.
“And we’re adding lots of turnouts and bridges to crisscross back and forth, so people can double back to the nature center building without having to walk the whole thing.”
“Oh, yes. That’s good.” Very good in fact, but it still pained her to be reassured that way. Happy that everyone would have a chance to enjoy the sanctuary, she hadn’t fully accepted that she was one of the people whose limitations had to be considered. She squared her shoulders and looked directly into his eyes. “I usually walk more easily. I can cover fairly long distances, too. I used to be sort of a girl jock.” Girl jock? Where had that come from? What was she defending, anyway?
Apparently not inclined to delve into her athletic past, Parker tapped his long index finger on a spot on the colorful drawing in front of him. “So, this is where we are. We’ve already got about a quarter mile of boardwalk planked. As you can see, the guys are attaching the railings for this section. They’re quite an assembly line. They cut the wood at their shop and then assemble it all here.”
“The Bill and Will Rivera father-son team did the construction work on another project I was involved with last spring,” Emma said. “They’re good. I’m glad they got this contract.” They’d put up arbors and installed benches for the butterfly garden the conservancy built on the edge of her land.
She plunked her finger on the depiction of the small pier that was part of the original resort. “So that’s called the observation point now, huh?” She turned to get a glimpse of the real pier jutting out in the lake. “A bunch of us here in town spent a lot of summer days jumping off that pier and racing each other to a raft that used to be out in the middle.” She might have added that she usually beat everyone, even most of the boys. “Naturally, Mike Abbot was one of the kids I used to swim with. I’m sure you were filled in on the history of his family’s resort.”
Parker nodded and adjusted his glasses with his thumb and index finger. “Big picture, but not a lot of detail.”
“Have you met Mike yet? And Ruby?” Emma asked, taking note that Parker’s thick frames were the latest style. She liked that subtle hint of healthy vanity.
The wide smile came back. “We have. The morning after Nicole—she’s my teenage daughter—and I got here. Mike and Ruby and their little boy came by with their arms loaded with food.” He let out a little laugh and smiled. “Not just any food, but fresh bread and donuts and apple pie. That was a big hit with Nicole.”
“So what did you think when you saw the place?”
Parker tilted his head and offered a lopsided smile. “Seriously? I know a trick question when I hear one. But I’m a step ahead of you. I was warned. The hiring committee filled me in. I know the Hidden Lake Resort was a big deal around here way, way back. So I wasn’t shocked to see the condition of the buildings. Besides, you can hardly find any of these old-style housekeeping cabins these days. Nic’s imagination took off on a wild ride picturing what this place must have been like back in the day.”
“To someone her age that must seem like eons ago,” Emma mused. “But even when Mike and Ruby and I were kids this place was already out of style.”
“I’ll bet. Those boxy wooden cabins remind me of something out of my grandparents’ era—or even earlier.”
Emma recognized the little ripples of nostalgia that always came up when she thought about Mike’s family’s old resort and working for his folks. Her parents placed high value on impeccable—their word—behavior, good grades and fulfilling one’s duty, whatever that was. Fun with friends and the pure joy of something as mundane as a challenging swim across the lake were eyed with suspicion. That’s why Emma had always counted her summers of goofing around on this lake as some of the few times she felt like a carefree kid.
“Working here for the Abbots was the best summer gig for us kids in town. Mike’s mom was our real boss. We all scrubbed those cabins to a shine and scooped hundreds of ice cream cones.” Emma paused and tapped her thumb on her chest. A little theatrics to add a flirtatious tone. “I don’t want to brag or anything, but I was one of the star gardeners...well, amateur groundskeepers.”
Parker rewarded her light tone with his friendliest smile yet. “You can joke, but you have the same faraway look that I saw in Mike and Ruby when they mentioned those summers.” He waved toward the woods. “How about a walk on the new boardwalk? It should be safe.”
“Lead the way,” Emma said, aware of her rising enthusiasm. “I haven’t been back in these woods since I was a kid.”
Parker waved to Bill and Will as they came off the boardwalk and said they were going to their shop to reload the truck. Emma called out her greeting to the two as they went on their way.
When they reached the slight incline onto the first planks, Parker raised his hand. “Stop right there.”
“I’ll be fine on it, Parker.”
“I can see that,” he said. “But I’m going to give this baby a performance test.” He took a few long strides ahead and widened his stance. He bounced in place, took a couple more steps ahead and jumped high enough to come down hard. “See? The right amount of give, but no sagging. I’m calling it safe.” Smiling smugly, he waited for her to catch up.
The air was cooler under the trees sheltering the boardwalk. And damper. Emma was glad she’d worn a heavy wool sweater over her turtleneck. With every puff of wind, the trees dropped more leaves and sent them floating down to the forest floor. “All these trees will be almost bare in a few days. Halloween marks the real end of fall around here,” she said, hearing the sadness in her voice.
They walked along in awkward silence. At least it was awkward for her—and annoying. She didn’t need more evidence of how narrow her life had become. Being alone on a simple walk with a man her age—and single, too, from what she’d heard—was a novel experience. The faint sound of a vibrating phone grabbed Parker’s attention. He took the phone out of his pocket and gave it a glance.
“Go ahead and take that if you need to,” Emma said. “Don’t mind me.”
“Nah, it can wait.” He chuckled. “I thought maybe it was another update from Stacey Schwartz. They contacted me yesterday about a new plan that changes the work we’re doing some.”
“Oh? What’s up?”
“Seems the committee has decided to host an open house over Thanksgiving weekend. Kind of like a warm-up act for the big Christmas Eve celebration,” he explained. “It means fixing up the office and finishing the boardwalk are our priorities. The plan is based on luring people to wander in on the long weekend and have a look. Maybe become sanctuary members.” Frowning, he stared out into the woods. “It’s okay. I don’t mind rearranging the work schedule.”
She forced a neutral expression. An open house on an otherwise busy shopping weekend struck her as a huge waste of time. But that was just her gut reaction. Now and then, something took her by surprise and challenged her hands-off stance toward the sanctuary and the people who ran it. This was one of those times.
“You’re surprised?”
She offered a coy smile. “And I thought I hid it. But then, I haven’t talked to Ruby about things going on in town lately.”
Parker’s frown was back.
Her fault. He’d still be in the dark about who was linked to who and why. “Sorry, I sometimes forget all these local connections might confuse you at first. Ruby’s my best pal—since grade school. If Ruby and I aren’t talking on the phone, we’re texting. She keeps me up-to-date on most everything going on these days, mainly because it seems there’s always something new.”
She explained that Mike and Ruby had been married on New Year’s Eve, and then in April Mike ran for mayor and won. “And now, only a few months later, we’re talking about boardwalks and Christmas caroling at the covered bridge.”
“Nic told me Santa’s coming to River Street,” Parker said, amused. “You’ve all been busy.”
“It’s an old story. A major employer shut down a plant and this town started to slide downhill. But we’re turning that all around now. No more limping along. We’re reinventing Bluestone River.” She dramatically extended her hand in his direction. “And that explains why you’re here.”
Parker’s jaw tightened for a second or two, but then relaxed. Hmm...she’d intended to amuse him a little. Oh well, so her act bombed. But why the tension?
“The board is busy luring volunteers.” He smirked, adding, “And courting donors.”
“Not such a bad thing for a not-for-profit to do.” She looked away, annoyed by his snide tone.
When she glanced back at him, Parker’s face was slightly red.
Served him right.
Parker stopped in place where the planking ended. “We’ll decorate all this with white lights for the Christmas Eve event. The main building and the pier and our cabins will be lit up, too.”
“It’s making me look forward to Christmas,” Emma admitted, turning to start back. The minute she heard it, Emma had taken to the sanctuary’s new name: The Hidden Lake Bird Sanctuary and Nature Center. It sounded established, even permanent. It’s what Mike’s dad would have wanted when he gave the land to the conservancy.
“I can help out on Thanksgiving weekend.” Emma didn’t like the eagerness coming through in her voice, or the undeniable relief spreading through her body. It meant she admitted, at least to herself, that hanging out at the sanctuary gave her something to fill an otherwise long, even dreaded weekend. “Maybe I could be a greeter and entice people to join.”
Parker shook his head and looked away. “Look, I owe you an apology for that remark about donors. My tone, I mean. I forgot for a minute that you’re the one footing the bill for these renovations and other changes.” His big gesture encompassed the woods and all the buildings. “I didn’t mean to be sarcastic.”
Oh, yes, he did. It was second nature to him. Probably every job he ever had depended on people like her. But as apologies went, she graded this one C minus. She held up her hand as if to stop him from going on. “Correction. I’m covering some of the upgrades here. And I don’t micromanage. Consider me a silent partner.”
Parker cleared his throat. “I only hope people around here have the good sense to know what a special place they’ve got.”
“I think it’s what got Mike elected mayor.”
But will it point me in a new direction? She pushed that question away for the moment and focused on Parker’s rich, deep voice describing yesterday’s cold downpour. Emma thought of her mom, who would have dispensed with words like tenor, baritone or bass. She’d have said he was born with a voice meant for radio and left it at that.
“The rain helped us identify the source of leaks in the office building roof,” Parker said with a smile. “Admittedly, the water stains already on the ceiling and walls were pretty good clues.”
She started to respond when a loud voice from behind interrupted. “Are you Parker Davis?”
“Yep, that’s me.” He put his hand across his forehead to shade his eyes from the shafts of afternoon sun coming through the trees. “Heater guys? I sure hope so.”
“Yessir, that’s us.”
“I hope you’re having those old oil heaters in the cabins replaced. It’s way past time.” Emma took a last look around. “I’ll be on my way. Thanks for the walk and the updates.”
Parker held up his arm in a silent message to the guy that he’d be right there. Polite. But unnecessary. With her free hand, Emma shooed Parker away. “Go on. Take care of business. I’m fine.”
“They can wait a minute.”
Since there was nothing tentative about his tone, she offered no argument. When they reached the gravel, she waved goodbye and started toward the lot, but turned around when Parker called out to her. “Will I see you on Friday at the reception? It’s being billed as my formal welcome to Bluestone River.”
“Absolutely,” Emma said. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
He smiled broadly before turning his attention to the heating guy.
Nothing tentative in that smile, either.
NIC’S LONG BLOND hair blew around her head in the strong breeze coming across the lake. Even with her face partially covered, Parker could read her mood. With shoulders slumped and head lowered, she loped along the bare path to her cabin. In no hurry, or so it seemed.
Parker called her name to get her attention and waved his arm for her to come to the boardwalk. When she didn’t respond the first time, he gave her the benefit of the doubt and called out again, louder this time. “Hey, Nic.”
Finally, she looked up, still fighting a losing battle with her hair as it swished over her face.
Parker walked toward her. “The heater guys left a few minutes ago. You can warm up your place tonight.”
That news changed her expression. “Yay! Finally.” She looked past him at the carpenters, who were back now, unloading more planking off a dolly. They’d been around most every day, but from Nic’s expression she might have been seeing them for the first time.
“They’re the same two guys who were working yesterday,” Parker said, amused by the way she was scrutinizing Will, who looked to be about eighteen or nineteen. Nic’s age.
She responded with a halfhearted shrug. Man, much as he loved his daughter, she could wear on him sometimes. Wasn’t a girl her age supposed to be lively, full of energy? Okay, that was a platitude, and sometimes she was those things and more. But lately, he never knew which Nic he’d be talking to. The teenager thrilled to be an adult going to college or the unhappy girl pining for simpler years gone by. Longing for the home they’d left, or wishing she was with her mother instead of him. When he challenged her, Nic defended her bad attitude by pointing out that he and her mother had forced her into this “new normal,” as she called it. Hard to argue with that.
“So, how was your day?” When would he learn not to ask questions she could so easily dismiss with one-word answers?
“Fine.” She changed the direction of her gaze from Will to him. “I have to study for my zoology test. And did I tell you I have an interview at the Sweet Comforts Bakery in the morning?”
“You mentioned that. Sounds like a good job to go after.”
“See ya, Dad.”
“Come to my cabin later. We’ll figure out dinner.”
“Okay, but as long as we have lots of veggies for a salad.”
He clamped his lips together to suppress a snort of laughter. This from a girl who once considered the existence of carrots and kale a personal affront. “You got it, Nic. Green, yellow, orange. We’ve got them all. Even a purple something.”
Did the corners of her mouth turn up? Maybe, but then she remembered and flashed a withering look. “Leave the salad to me.”
“Got it.”
Nicole continued to her cabin but managed another surreptitious glance at Will, who was still stacking wood. As potential dates went, Nic could do worse, Parker decided. The kid sure worked hard enough. He and his dad had made great progress in the few days they’d been working at the sanctuary, inside as well as outside. On the rainy days the two concentrated on tearing out old rickety shelving in the office.
Most of the real work to fix up the two cabins, one for him and one for Nic, would wait until winter. The board had asked if he preferred to open up one large cabin for him and Nic, or would two small ones work better? Not a hard choice. Nic had taken to calling her one-room-and-an alcove cabin her studio—the only really good thing about their unexpected move to Bluestone River. She didn’t care about the decay around her. Blue-turned-gray paint peeling off the cabin. Squeaky pipes. Limited hot water. Those were small prices to pay for having her own place.
Leaving Bill and Will to finish up their tasks for the afternoon, Parker wandered down to the pier, also due for repairs in time for Thanksgiving. He looked across the lake to the marshes at one end, where a few dozen geese were gathering. Many more clustered in the field across from the woods. Parker expected most of the geese would move on, but a few would winter over. The sprawling Abbot family home sat back from the shore at the opposite end of the lake. At forty-five acres, Hidden Lake was big enough to be the centerpiece of the resort in the past, and now add to the appeal of the sanctuary.
Jackie, his ex-wife, would have called this land and the lake picture-postcard beautiful. The pretty brunette, Emma O’Connell, apparently agreed. He hadn’t missed the look that passed over her face when she talked about her summer resort job and swimming off the pier.
Parker had to laugh at himself. As much as he’d tried, he couldn’t stop looking at Emma, not from the first glimpse of her approaching him. Maybe it was the sassy way she’d twirled her cane that intrigued him. Straight dark hair set off large brown eyes that lit up in fun, but turned serious when something subtle shifted her mood. She was taller than average. Her body was curvy and strong—easy to picture her as that girl jock she brought up.
He bet Emma was a good dancer. He closed his eyes and there he was, holding her close and slow dancing on the pier. Now why had that occurred to him? He didn’t know her. Not even a little bit. He gave the railing a little bump with his palm, as if that could knock her image out of his brain.
With no reason to let his mind go there, he wondered if the sadness rippling below the surface was about her losing her husband, a fact about her that had come in a casual conversation about how the sanctuary was funded. Or maybe she was doing fine and he was the one projecting sadness. He’d been walking around with a cloud over his head for a while now. Sometimes he forgot he hadn’t always been grumpy and glum. Matter of fact, he felt pretty good walking on the boardwalk with Emma.
What made Emma tick was neither here nor there, he repeated to himself. Warm eyes and a smile to match aside, the woman was a donor. From his first interview with the three-person search committee, Parker got it. One person held his job in the palm of her hand. She was a presence without actually being in the room, described as a wealthy widow who’d paid his predecessor’s salary in order to keep the sanctuary open. And she would raise her contribution—substantially—in order to hire a professional, someone with the right experience and credentials. Someone just like him.
What wasn’t like him was that he’d spared no stereotype in making assumptions about the donor in question. In his mind’s eye, she was older than Emma, by maybe thirty, even forty years. His imaginary Emma was nothing like the real woman, who he guessed hadn’t celebrated her fortieth birthday yet. He admitted being a little thrown that she relied on a cane. Likely, though, she was recovering from some kind of injury. He smiled to himself. She’d probably be dancing again soon.
Parker again tried to force his thoughts elsewhere. Emma’s age and beauty were irrelevant. He knew that much. He’d accumulated a lot of painful experience working with organizations’ boards and dutifully pleasing benefactors and courting new ones. He’d learned to hold funders at arm’s length, at least as much as possible. His rules were simple: Be polite and competent, but don’t confuse decorum with friendship. People with major bucks to hand out, no matter how worthwhile the cause, had a way of tightening reins on the organizations they propped up. This was true even in the smallest facilities, like the Hidden Lake Bird Sanctuary.
The geese in the marsh began honking as they took flight. He let the sound distract him from his own thoughts, which were making a beeline toward a dark, hurt place he couldn’t afford to indulge. He stood in place and watched the birds soar across the sky on their late afternoon trip. In his last job, he didn’t have a lake outside his front door. That particular rescue center for birds of prey sat a quarter mile back from a narrow creek off one of the estuaries along the North Carolina coast. At any given time, the center might house over one hundred birds in various stages of treatment.
Despite serious misgivings about saying yes to this new position as director of the sanctuary here on Hidden Lake, maybe breathing life into this run-down facility, it was exactly what he—and Nicole—needed to build a different life. That’s what led him to sign a one-year contract to assure the stakeholders he’d launch their new vision for this wooded land and old buildings. In the fall, he’d plan his next steps. They could involve Nic, but maybe not. That depended on who she chose to live with. Right now Nic was with him. With some regularity, Jackie still dangled weak invitations to their daughter to come and stay with her at some vague point in the future.
Speaking of Jackie, he remembered the text that had come in and pulled out his phone. Nothing critical. Just a note about a loose end that once dealt with would sever any legal tie to each other. Parker stared at the screen. That was it? Jackie was his past. Her exact words were, “You’re free, so go plan a great future for yourself.”
Parker fought the impulse to call his ex-wife, maybe tell her to make up her mind. Did she want Nic with her or not? The vacillating wasn’t helping their daughter adjust. Maybe, he’d drop a remark or two to remind her he’d never asked for his so-called freedom. That had been her idea.
He grasped the railing on the pier with both hands and sighed. He’d never planned to be on this pier overlooking this lake in a small Midwest town, either. But here he was. A chance at a bigger, better job had fallen through. Faced with no job at all, Parker reluctantly accepted what looked like a relatively easy stint here in Bluestone River. He had to watch his attitude, though. He’d already sized up the board and the donors as town booster types, which was okay as far as it went. But a legitimate bird sanctuary that rescued and treated its patient-birds needed dedicated advocates. So far, the board showed more interest in attracting locals and tourists to an ordinary nature center. Becoming a true bird sanctuary was a step in a five-year plan. Parker doubted it would happen at all.
Being blindsided over a job offer was one thing. A divorce was in a category of its own. The worst part was what it did to Nic. As an only child, and doted on at that, her spirit shattered in little pieces. Parker winced against the memory of Nic yelling at Jackie. Her mom betrayed them. She’d never forgive her, never. That had gone on for days, until the morning Jackie stood by her packed car and hugged Nic and asked her to come and live with her and Ben. One day. Soon. When she and Ben were settled. But the next time Nic saw her mom was almost six months later at her high school graduation.
Parker focused on consoling Nic. Something he apparently wasn’t very good at.
Now, he stared overhead at geese flying in formation. He listened to their loud negotiation, as his daughter liked to call their attention-grabbing honking. With golden leaves dropping from the trees and the breeze ruffling the surface of the lake, he’d be a fool to complain about where he’d landed. What was a year out of his long career?
The upcoming reception wasn’t his favorite type of occasion, but he’d managed to navigate his way around them before—almost every job he held required him to be the public face of an organization.
Strange how the prospect of seeing Emma again was almost enough to get his mind off Jackie.
While his good mood held, he left the pier and went to Nic’s cabin and knocked on the screen door. “It’s just me, Nic.”
“Come on in,” she said in a listless tone.
He stepped just inside the door, where the scent of spicy incense filled the air. It tickled his nose, and reminded him of coming into their house in North Carolina and being greeted with a mix of smells coming from the candles and incense Jackie and Nic had burned almost every day.
Nic sat at the table scrolling through her phone, earbuds in, laptop open in front of her, and textbooks spread on the table. The TV was tuned to a cooking show, but the sound was muted. He found Nic’s multimedia world a little on the chaotic side, but he bit his bottom lip to keep his comments to himself. “Remember we have the reception on Friday. The board is rolling out a big welcome for us.” Yikes. Where did a lame expression like that even come from?
“Why do I have to go?” Nic whined. “Can’t you make up some excuse for why I can’t be there? I’m in college now. It’s not like you need to parade a perfect little family around.”
Ouch. Nic couldn’t know how much that hurt. The little things often did. When it came to those work-related duty nights, he’d counted on Jackie as a buffer. She could float around a room and be charming and chatty. He often wound up with his feet glued to the floor in one place holding a half a glass of wine he didn’t touch. Some unsuspecting person would approach him and maybe ask a simple question about disappearing bird habitats or migratory patterns. Instead of giving two-or three-sentence answers, he usually fell back on a series of boring facts delivered in what Jackie called his doom-and-gloom voice.
“Hey, pal,” Parker said, forcing a light tone, “I need you there to keep me from boring everyone to death.”
She smirked. “Like that’s even possible, Dad.”
He smirked back. “All kidding aside, the folks on the board couldn’t have been nicer to us. I’m trying to make it work here. I want you at the reception with me.” He swallowed past the lump forming in his throat. “Like it or not, I’m really proud of you. Give your dull dad a break, okay?”
Nic flashed another look. Softer this time.
He stepped to the table and gave it a knuckle rap for emphasis. “C’mon Nic, I know Bluestone River isn’t where we thought we’d be.”
“An understatement,” Nicole interjected. “Not exactly a major clinic for rescued birds, Dad.”
“Maybe down the road, Nic, but not...” He let his voice trail off to stop himself from lecturing her. He stared at the window, his thoughts wandering deep into the past to better times.
“Dad? What’s with you? You drifted far, far away. What were you going to say?” Nicole’s forehead was wrinkled in a deep frown.
He waved her off and continued glancing around. “Uh, nothing. Just thinking about getting our places fixed up and ready for winter.”
His astute daughter likely wasn’t convinced by that little fib. Still, she sighed and said, “Okay, Dad, I’ll go to your thing.”
“Great, honey, thanks.” He turned toward the door.
“Wait...not so fast. It’s going to cost you.”
Her impish grin immediately improved his mood. “Oh, really. What’s the price? Clothes? Shoes?”
“Nope. It’s you.” Nicole jabbed her index finger at him. “You have to promise to wear a jacket and tie to the reception.”
“Oh, no,” he moaned, clutching his chest. “What a big price to pay. How will I manage it?” The jacket and tie were no problem, but he’d need to find a place to get a haircut.
“Really, Dad?” Nic shook her head, but at least she was laughing. “Your stand-up routine could use a little practice.” She gave him one of her long-suffering looks. “Seriously, wear your gray tweed sport coat. It’s like, up-to-date. I mean you did buy it in this century. It fits your nature-freak image, but still makes you look smart enough to be a professor.”
“Okay, okay.” He had to laugh. She’d been calling him a nature freak since she was about twelve years old.
“Seriously, you can’t show up looking like a lumberjack.” She gave him a once-over. “Like now.”
He looked down as his jeans, almost tan from the sawdust clinging to the denim. “I think I can manage not to embarrass you for a couple of hours,” he said, already halfway out the door. “See you later.”
If Nic only knew how it lightened his load to hear her kid around, even at his expense. He could tolerate some teasing. Besides, he gave as good as he got, especially with Nic. Jackie claimed Nic’s bond with him was even stronger than hers, mom or not. True, mother-daughter relationships could be rocky, and Jackie and Nic had their moments. In the end, though, Jackie better understood adolescent mountains and valleys—and quirks. Or so Parker thought. Only in the last year had Jackie given him reason to question that.
“Dad, wait. I almost forgot. Mom said to say hello.” She waved her phone. “She said to tell you she got your text.”
“Oh, okay.”
“What’s that all about?” Nic asked in a wary tone.
“Nothing important. Another document to sign.” Nicole’s face darkened. She knew that meant it was the divorce.
“Oh.” Nic shrugged. “Mom is okay...I guess.”
Her expectant expression forced a response of some kind, so he said the first thing that came to mind. “Well, I hope she’s doing well.”
Nic looked down and got busy with her phone again. “Yeah, right, Dad.”
Dead end. He closed the door behind him. Anger at Jackie rising up from his chest to his throat, he mumbled blaming words. It was her fault Nic was so moody—and torn. She lived in her new studio and claimed to like her classes, but on some days, Jackie’s pull on Nic was like a magnet. When that happened, Nic could think about little else but her mom’s life in Vermont.
Still, Parker had always believed Jackie was a great mom.
Right up to the moment she walked out the door.
