Текст книги "The Girl Of Diamonds and Rust"

Автор книги: Susan Ward

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I push Neil off me and give him a playful kick with my leg. “Would you stop already? If this is you being contrite, you suck at it. It’s irritating.”

Neil gives me a sweet, half-pouting smile. “I’m not sure that I’m forgiven.”

I catch out of the corner of my eye Josh giving me the God, what a bitch look. I shudder internally. It’s awful how the guys know everything that happens in our life. Six hours on a bus with no privacy, and Neil being overly attentive, carrying an expression like a wounded puppy, still unsure and still worried. Josh blames me for the crap that went down last night at the hotel. He doesn’t say it. He doesn’t have to. I can see it in how he looks at me.

Crap, I wish Neil would go and sit at the table with Josh and ignore me like he usually does when Josh wants to work.

I lean into Neil, my lips close to his ear. “You were forgiven this morning,” I whisper with heavy meaning.

His fingers play at the buttons of my shirt. “I want to be forgiven again.”

Color rises to my cheeks because I can tell he’s thinking about how we were in bed. We should fight more often, though I don’t really want to, but Neil is very good at makeup sex.

I push at him. “Go away. It’s not happening. Not here. Haven’t you figured that one out by now?”

Neil slowly lowers his face to mine. His lips move gently at first, then the kiss deepens and deepens as his thumb teases my nipple through my shirt.

I’m breathless when he pulls back.

“No?” he cajoles.

I shake my head. “No.”

He lies back on his pillow and makes an aggravated sigh. He look at me. “Are you sure?”

I roll my eyes, but I feel laughter bubbling inside me. “Positive. Stop asking. I’m not doing it.”

He rolls off the bed, ambles down the bus, and sinks into a chair beside Josh.

Minutes later they are focused on trying to create lyrics for Josh’s new song. Neil is leaning forward in his chair, his head bobbing, his eyes closed, and there is no music except for whatever he is hearing in his head.

From horny to working in the blink of an eye. Jeez, why are musicians so weird? One minute I am everything and the next forgotten.

God, he’s impossible to live with.

I watch them for a few minutes. I grab my journal and sink lower onto the bed. I chew on the tip of my pen and stare at the blank page. Do I write about our fight? Some parts of it are still bothering me. I frown. Everything is good between us again. That ugly scene in the room shouldn’t be nipping at my subconscious still.

Maybe I’m not completely over the fight. Maybe Neil senses it and that’s why he keeps trying to make love to me. Guys think everything can be fixed by sex.

Do we have something that needs fixing? Stupid, Chrissie, stupid. You are being hyper-analytical again. Let it go. It was a fight. Nothing more. Things are good with Neil today.

The mattress moves and I lift my nose out of my journal to watch Nate Kassel stretch out on Neil’s pillow beside me.

I arch a brow. “Excuse me? Did I invite you here? Front of the bus: Markem’s. Back of the bus: Chrissie’s. Middle of the bus: dipshits’.”

Nate laughs and grabs off the blanket the journal I finally completely filled yesterday. He starts thumbing through pages.

“You write fucking incredible lyrics.”

I roll my eyes. Why does every guy think I write song lyrics in my journal?

I hold out my hand. “Did I say you could read that?” I ask.

He turns a page. “No. But I always do when you and Neil sneak off the bus to do whatever you two do. I like reading your journals. They’re kind of interesting. Sometimes a little twisted. But the words are good. And I don’t want to watch porno flicks with Les and Pat. I’d rather hang with you.”

I crinkle my nose and make a you’re disgusting face. “Thanks a lot. I really don’t need to know when they’re watch their fuck films.”

He looks at me, amused. “It’s not exactly a mystery, Chrissie. When the VCR’s running, it’s fuck film time.”

“Why are guys such pigs?”

Nate shrugs and starts rummaging through Neil’s bag. “Boredom. We’re only pigs when we’re bored.”

“Then Josh is bored 24/7.”

“Josh is not that bad. Stop giving him shit. He doesn’t hate you. He just gets easily pissed off by the wrong things because he’s so tight with Neil. Besides, who cares about Josh? The rest of us like you, Chrissie. You’re a pretty OK girl. If we had to have a band chick this tour, we’re glad it’s you.”

“Yuck. Band chick? I’m not a band chick. Don’t call me that.”

“Suit yourself. Band chick is not a pejorative.”

I relax against my pillow and watch him as he continues violating Neil’s privacy by taking the shit out of his bag. I should tell him to stop, I don’t even go through Neil’s stuff, but I don’t say anything.

It’s better to roll with this and it’s nice that Nate told me that the guys like me. They’re pretty cool guys. They give me crap, but I bet if someone disrespected me they’d defend me before I could say Hardy Boys.

It’s like having three big brothers, though Josh is more like the oppressive, disapproving uncle always in my face about something.

Nate pulls a bottle of JD out of the case. He holds it up in Neil’s direction. “Hey, man, can I drink this or do you plan to throw it at the side of the bus later?”

Nate starts to laugh, and I give him a hard smack in his chest. How the hell do they always know everything? And why do they have to be so rude and let me know it?

“Asshole,” I exclaim.

“Don’t worry. Neil didn’t even hear me.”

He unscrews the top. He takes a long swallow, offers me the bottle, and when I shake my head, he takes another gulp. He sits there for a while, staring at me, searching my face.

“What was all that shit about last night?” he asks.

I flush. “Nothing. It’s private. No big deal.” Then frustration forces me to ask. “How do you guys know everything that happens with us the second it happens?”

He takes another drink. “Nicole. She was in her room last night. Heard every word. Said Neil was throwing things. Came to my room, pounded on my door. And trust me, I didn’t want to be interrupted last night. But she ordered me to go break it up before someone sent for the cops and if Neil put so much as a finger on you, that I had better kick his ass or Vincent would. And that I should be smart and not leave it to Delmo to take care of.”

I groan, burying my face in my hands. “Fuck. It’s so humiliating on the road. As if Neil would hit me. As if he’d hit anyone.”

He reclines on his side and arches a brow. “You mean other than Andy? That one still doesn’t make sense to me. Neil is a total pacifist and he fucked up Andy good. Anyway, you guys were quiet when I got to your room, so I didn’t knock—you’re welcome, by the way—and I figured Nicole got it wrong and everything was cool.”

I stare at him, hard. “Everything is cool. Nicole definitely got it wrong.”

“I didn’t think he would step out of line with you, but my boy was acting weird last night. Edgy. Going off on everyone.”

I don’t want to think about the events of last night, so I ignore that comment and resolve to focus on my journal. Nate watches me expectantly, takes a sip from the bottle and then starts reading my most personal thoughts again.

We lie together quietly for a while. Nate has been in an unusually talkative mood. I debate with myself whether to ask.

I look over at him. “Why does Josh dislike me so much? Is it just that guy loyalty thing because I broke up with Neil for a while? Or is it something else?”

“Something else.” He turns a page.

I stare at him, impatiently. “Well?”

“I don’t want to get in the middle of it.”

“Too late. You already put yourself in the middle of it with the he doesn’t really hate you comment. You shouldn’t have told me that if you didn’t want me to ask you to explain.”

“Shit. That’s totally fucked-up logic. I’m not in the middle of anything.”

I ease over to lie on my side and stare. Nate breathes in, he breathes out, and then he finally turns to face me.

“Don’t fucking repeat this,” he warns. “It will just cause shit. It will just blow up.”

My eyes widen. “I won’t. I promise.”

“He thinks you fuck up everything we’re trying to do by just you being here. You don’t serve a purpose. You’re not doing anything. You’re not working. You write fucking great words no one will ever hear. You don’t even know why the fuck you’re on the road with us. But everything is different because you’re here and it drives Josh up a wall. Get it?”

I frown. “No.”

He looks agitated. “Everything is different with you here.”

“What’s different?”

“For one thing our press. You get more press than everyone in the band combined, even Neil. You are fucking famous for being famous. It’s really starting to be a problem with Josh.”

I sit up, alarmed. “What are you talking about?”

He shakes his head. “Don’t play dumb, Chrissie. I know you don’t go to the meet and greets, and I know you haven’t been at the press ops, but you must read the press clipping files Neil gets every morning.”

Press clipping file? “No. I don’t read them. Neil doesn’t read them. He doesn’t want either of us to read the press. He says reading your own press fucks with your head. I don’t look at the newspapers. Not ever.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he counters harshly.

“No. Not kidding you. Why do you say it that way?”

Nate frowns. “Neil hasn’t mentioned how the press ops go?”

I shake my head. “No. Why would he?”

“Because every fucking time we sit down with the press, the first question Neil gets is about you. They never ask the rest of the band anything. First question, you can fucking bet on it every time, is something about Chrissie.”

I’m stunned. Oh no, this can’t be true. He’s messing with me. Good one, Nate. Ha, ha, ha.

I settle back against my pillow. “You’re so full of crap. Why do all you guys like to mess with me? It’s not funny.”

“Fine. I’m full of crap, but that’s why Josh is always pissed off at you and working really hard to get Neil to boot you off the road. He’s fed up with the tabloid Chrissie frenzy. He thinks it interferes with what the band is about and what we’re trying to do.”

It is too absurd. Chrissie frenzy. I’m still not sure if I should believe him.

He studies my face for a moment. “It must suck. Being famous for being famous. That must really suck for you.”

“I’m not famous for being famous. I’m not anything. I’m not even a band chick. If I were I’d be screwing all of you.”

His fingers flutter on my stomach. “If you’re interested in becoming the official band girl we can fix that now. Neil’s going to be tied up for a while.”

I shove him hard, nearly knocking him off the bed. “Not a chance. Jeez, you’re obnoxious.”

Nate laughs and I smile.

He tosses my journal at Neil and it lands at his feet. “Why don’t you use those lyrics? They’re probably better than anything you’re thinking up.”

Josh glares at him, but Neil picks up the journal and starts to read.

Nate settles comfortably on the bed, and closes his eyes. “I’m going to sleep for a while, Chrissie.”

In a few minutes he’s sound asleep beside me. I stare out the back window at the passing scenery. I wonder where we are. It’s beautiful here. Who would have thought the United States was so large, so much of it unoccupied by people, and every state different and yet oddly the same at once?

I grab my journal and start to write, then Nate begins to snore. Crap. I crawl over him and leave the bed. I stop next to Neil and drop a kiss on his head.

“Do you know where we are?” I ask.

Neil opens his eyes and looks up. “Sorry. I haven’t been paying attention.”

I shift my questioning gaze to Josh. He ignores me. I move to the front of the bus and sink down until I’m sitting on the floor, my back against the dash console.

Markem glances down at me. “Did I say you could sit there, Miss Parker?”

“Nope, you didn’t but then I didn’t ask. Where are we?”

“South Carolina.”

“Do we have enough time to stop for a while? It’s pretty here and I could use some fresh air.”

He checks the clock. He nods. “For you we can stop. For them, no.”

I laugh. “You don’t really mean that. You like the guys. I can tell.”

He shakes his head and doesn’t say anything, but I can see he has something on his mind he’d like to say. It must be impolite. Markem is never impolite with me so that would be the only reason he’s not speaking what he’s thinking.

I pull myself up. Josh follows my movements with his gaze in a rude manner and, just to piss him off, I sink down on Neil’s lap.

Neil frowns. “You OK?”

I curl into his chest. “I’m good. But I’m tired of listening to Nate snore.”

Neil laughs.

“We’re stopping,” I whisper in his ear.

“Oh, thank you. I am very ready to stop.”

I blush and do an anxious peek at Josh, and I can tell by his expression he’s annoyed with me.

I feel Neil’s fingers move in my hair and close my eyes. His touches get more stirring and he starts kissing me on the neck. I wasn’t thinking about sex when I asked Markem to stop, but everything is suddenly lit inside me.

The bus screeches to a standstill on the side of the road, and everyone stumbles out, anxious for a bit of space from each other.

We scatter in our customary pairings. Neil pulls me by the hand in one direction. Josh and Les take off in the opposite direction with their guitars, to get high and jam together. Pat and Nate hover near the bus, as if they’re worried it will leave without them, tossing a football. And Markem stands at the edge of the road just smoking and staring.

Halfway across the field, Neil lifts me up to carry me, and we are kissing and touching all the way through the meadow of tall grass and wild flowers. We are both impatient in our bodies, out of nowhere. The pulse in Neil’s neck beats fiercely against my lips as I kiss him there. I make a soft bite then run my tongue down his skin. He groans. My muscles clench there in anticipation of making love with Neil in the grass, feeling the wind touching my skin between the play of his fingers, feeling as if there is nothing on this earth but us. Lost in each other in a rural idyll where nothing can hurt either of us.

He continues into the trees at the edge, through thick green foliage and dense arching tree branches. The world is utterly tranquil and quiet here. And yet the vivid colors, so much richer than the colors in California, remind me of another meadow.

A whisper of sadness starts to move through me as my thoughts drift to another time, a time when I was not a girl who would fuck in the grass. Though I wanted to. I burned to. I burned for him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

I look up to find Neil studying me.

I shake my head and smile. “Not a thing.”

We step out from beneath the trees into more field. He stops, setting me on my feet, and between kisses he undresses, spreads out his shirt as a makeshift blanket, and then removes my panties from beneath my dress, kissing his way down my legs until they are discarded.

He lies down and pulls me on top of him. Desire thick and pulsing dances through my flesh. He grabs my hips and fills me quickly. I groan and arch my back. Slowly he withdraws and then sinks into me. The tempo builds, harder and faster.

I open my eyes to find him watching my face. I watch him watch me and it makes my blood boil through my veins. But my passion-claimed senses haze my vision and the colors of him—deep tanned skin, chestnut hair with golden sun-flecks, lush green eyes—blur into the rich colors of the meadow. I close my eyes and behind my lids there is only black.

I savor the feel of callused fingertips touching my skin, my muscles tightening there around him, and I change the rhythm of our bodies until it is quick and rough and I can feel nothing beyond my own flesh.

We come apart together, and I explode around him, my whimpers the only sound on the air. I collapse into him until my head is cradled against his chest and we are both struggling to breathe.

“I love you,” Neil whispers.

“I love you, too.” I kiss his chest and then snuggle back into him.

Neil trails his fingers up and down my back. He is quiet for a long time.

“I want us to get married,” he says.

The languidness leaves my flesh in a jolt.

I lift my face from his chest. “Neil, we just got back together again four months ago. I’m not ready to think about marrying you. I’m not ready to think about spending the rest of my life with anyone.”

“We’ve been together four years, Chrissie. We are already spending our life together.”

“I know. But I can’t say yes. Not today.”

I see something on his face, a fleeting emotion that is quickly lost behind the usual arrangement of his features.

“Then explain it to me, Chrissie. Because I don’t know why you’re saying no.”

I pull out of his arms, hunt in the grass for my panties, put them on, and then sit on my knees beside him.

“I’m not saying no,” I whisper. “I’m saying not yet. There is a difference.”

He’s angry now.

“That’s a bullshit line guys give girls, Chrissie, when they don’t want to marry them.”

I blink at him rapidly, my entire face burning. He moves away from me, stands, and starts to grab his clothing from the ground.

“Neil, don’t be pissed.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not pissed, Chrissie. I just don’t get you sometimes.”

I can feel him watching me.

“Can you answer me one question, Chrissie?”

I don’t look at him. I nod.

He sinks down in front of me, crouching at eye level, and lifts my face until I’m looking at him.

“Why do you not want to marry me?”

Shit. Why that question? I don’t know how to answer that because I don’t know the answer myself. Neil is a great guy. He loves me and I love him. I don’t know why I panic every time he asks me to marry him, even back in Berkeley when I used to pretend I thought he was joking. I knew he wasn’t. His proposals made me internally messy.

I shake my head. “I don’t know, Neil.”

He studies my face for a long time, almost like he’s searching for something, doesn’t find it, and then the anger leaves his body.

I frown, not sure what to make of that. He kisses my forehead. “I love you.”

I nod. “I know.”

“We’re getting married. Someday. You’ll say yes.”

I nod, but I know that I shouldn’t, that it’s wrong, because I don’t have the slightest idea why I say no or if I’ll ever yes.

He stands and offers me his hand. “Come on. We should get back.”

I let him guide me through the meadow, but my limbs suddenly feel too weak and heavy. We are quiet on the way back to the bus, and once everyone is loaded up, I move away from Neil to sit back on the bed.

I pull out a journal just for something to do. I grab my pen. My thoughts drifted back to The Farm. I start to write.

I wish I had made love with Alan in the grass during our spring. I wish I could let go of the past. I wish I could move forward. I wish I understood why I love Neil, and yet the thought of marrying him terrifies me.

I stare at the words on the paper, realizing I’d written my thoughts when I didn’t intend to. I tear out the sheet and rip it into tiny pieces. I scrunch it into a ball and shove it deep into my backpack.

I wish I understood me.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Neil sits on the edge of the bed, watching me pack.

“I don’t want you to go, Chrissie.”

The way he says that tells me he’s worried that my leaving is about more than wanting to go home to see Jack.

“We’ve been on the road six months,” I explain for what has got to be the tenth time. “I haven’t been home once. It’s my birthday. I’ve got to go home, Neil. Jack will get disappointed if I don’t.”

“If you wait a few weeks, there is a break in the schedule. We can go to Santa Barbara together.”

“My birthday is Saturday. I’m not changing my plans.”

I focus on neatly folding my clothes and tucking them into the bag to avoid meeting Neil’s unwavering stare.

Everything feels strained and awkward between us. Neil is definitely overreacting to my wanting to go home for a few days. But then, we’ve been off since he asked me to marry him. I know it hurt him that I didn’t say yes, but I’m not ready for marriage, and he should be willing to wait until I am.

I zip closed my bag and sink back to sit on my heels. God, I wish he’d stop looking at me that way.

“I’ll only be gone two weeks.” Then, deliberately silly, I add, “Unless after having me gone Josh has convinced you not to want me back.”

Neil chuckles softly, reluctant humor at best. “Not a chance. I’m going to miss you every day you’re gone.”

I walk on my knees across the carpet to him until I’m between his legs. I rub my hands atop his thighs. “You better miss me at night, too, or you’re going to have pissed-off Chrissie when I return.”

His laughter erupts in a more lighthearted way. He leans in and starts kissing me on my neck. “I will definitely miss you at night. Will you miss me?”

“Every second. I’ve gotten kind of used to having you around.”

He eases back, touching his nose to my nose. “Me too.”

I make a face. “I need to finish packing or I’ll miss my plane.”

I spring to my feet and go to the bathroom to collect my toiletries.

“Are you seeing Rene while you’re there?” I hear Neil ask from the bedroom.

I pop back into the room. “I don’t know yet. I called her to let her know I’d be in Santa Barbara, but she sort of blew me off and didn’t commit to anything. So I don’t know if I’ll see her.”

He rolls his eyes in that Rene’s a bitch kind of way. “What do you plan to do there for two weeks?”

“Go the beach every day. Get some sun. Hang out with Jack. Not be on a bus with the guys. Maybe sleep an entire day and night.”

“You make me jealous.”

“You should be. Santa Barbara sounds like heaven to me these days.”

His eyes cloud over again, troubled. Crap, why did I say that?

I change the subject quickly. “I’m going to see your mom while I’m there. And your cousin Mia, too.”

“I know. They told me. My mom is really excited about spending time with you. It meant a lot to her that you made a point to call her and set up something.”

I smile. “I like your mom.”

“You like my family enough to become a Stanton?”

Oh damn.

“Definitely your strongest pro on the pros and cons list, Neil,” I taunt. “Your musical genius and sexiness rank only second and third. Family number one.”

He laughs and I search the room to see if I’ve forgotten anything. I feel frazzled and disoriented.

I sigh. “I think I’ve got everything.”

Neil stands and gently pulls me up against him. He buries his lips in my hair. “I’ll call you every night.”

“You had better call me every morning, too.”

“I want to go with you to the airport,” he says.

“Nope. I want to say goodbye here.”

~~~

I stare out the airplane window as we make a wide circle over the ocean and then start to descend. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed home until I could see Santa Barbara through the glass; the foothills, the mountains, the beaches, the clusters of track homes, and even the palm trees. It all looks so marvelous to me.

I feel a series of bumps, landing gear touching earth, and then I hear the loud whoosh of the rapid slowing of the plane on the short runways we have here.

Everyone starts moving even though the flight attendant hasn’t opened the doors. I climb from my first-class seat and take my small black bag from the overhead bin.

Light floods the cabin, and I step out onto the metal steps, feeling the California sunshine warm my cheeks even in mid-November and smelling the sweetness of clean ocean air.

I make my way across the tar-stained, uneven concrete of the tarmac and step into the courtyard outside the terminal.

Surprise jolts through my limbs as I spot Jack waiting on a bench. It is the first time he hasn’t stayed with the car when picking me up at the airport. Tears mist my eyes.

Jack comes to me and takes me in a sloppy bear hug. “I’ve missed you, baby girl. I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Me too, Daddy. I’ve really missed you. But you better stop hugging me or I’ll start crying right here.”

“Go ahead and cry, baby girl. It’s nice to know you’re glad to see me.”

He holds me as if he doesn’t want to let me go, and I realize he’s spent a lot of time worrying about me the past six months. He saw me off in Seattle. He didn’t want me to go on the road with Neil, and the memory of how he’d stood there watching me leave vividly fills my head.

He holds my face with his palms. “You look great. Are you doing OK, Chrissie?”

I nod, smiling up at him. “I’m good. Neil’s good. He told me to say hi for him and to tell you he’s sorry he couldn’t be here.”

Jack places a light kiss on my cheek, then takes my black case. “Let’s find your suitcase so we can get you out of the airport.”

We wait in the baggage claim area for only a few minutes. Jack grabs my duffel from the cart, and we head out to the front drop-off loop.

He opens my door. “Anything special you want to do while you’re home?”

“Just stay home,” I say and he smiles at me as I climb into my seat.

I watch as he tosses my bags in the back, then settles in the driver’s seat.

I frown. “New car?”

Jack starts driving from the airport. “New car. The lease was up on the Volvo. I swapped it out for this. I wasn’t sure what you wanted.”

I laugh. “I’m old enough to get my own cars, Daddy.”

“Not a chance. I like taking care of my girl.”

I settle more into my seat. It feels really good, better than any other time before, to be home. I don’t know why, but it feels incredible today.

I roll down the window and let the air tease my hair as we drive past the beach and turn onto the freeway.

I feel Jack’s gaze on me.

“Happy to be home?”

I turn from the window. “Ecstatic.”

Jack laughs. “The road can do that. Nothing makes home look better than the road.”

I smile, but I’m not sure if that’s what I’m feeling, relief to be off the road, or even if that’s why this feels so good to be here. There’s been a quietness in me that I didn’t expect since I left Neil at the hotel.

Strange. It makes no sense to be feeling this way. I’ve just left him alone on tour, where every night is filled with hundreds of girls panting after him, hot for his boxers. I should feel anxious not peaceful. Guys lie for guys. He could do anything he wanted while I’m gone and no one would ever tell me.

I should be suspicious. Paranoid. Jealous. Those feelings would be logical. Not this odd sense of almost relief to be taking a break from each other.

What a strange girl I am. My internal processes rarely ever are normal. Like my reaction to the marriage proposal. I feel myself getting emotionally messy all over again, and push the memory from my mind.

“What’s weighing so heavily on your mind, baby girl?” Jack asks, startling me. “Something tells me you didn’t come home just to be with me for your birthday. Something is bothering you, Chrissie.”

I shrug and stare out the window. I surprise myself by saying, “Neil asked me to marry him.”

Jack smiles. “Not exactly a shocker. Neil’s twenty-eight. Things are starting to take off for him. He knows what he wants.”

A long moment of quiet passes that feels as if Jack is waiting for me to tell him what my answer was. “What did you say?” he asks, finally.

We drive beneath the high black metal arch into Hope Ranch. I didn’t plan on discussing this with Jack, I don’t know why I am, but we’re nearly home so I can escape this conversation quickly if it grows too uncomfortable.

“I said maybe,” I answer softly.

“Oh,” Jack replies heavily.

I arch a brow. “What is that supposed mean? Oh?”

Jack makes a quiet, sort of sympathetic laugh. “Maybe doesn’t mean maybe in this situation. Maybe is no. How’d Neil take that?”

Crap, that’s exactly what Neil said. Is there some guy code book somewhere in this world that all men get? My maybe meant maybe. I don’t know what I want yet.

“He was hurt, but you know Neil. He got over it fast. And everything is fine.”

“So why did you say no?” Jack asks, and I can tell that’s far from a simple question. He wants to know if there is something he should be concerned about between Neil and me.

I shake my head. “Because I’m not sure. Not ready yet or even sure if marriage is the right thing for me.”

Jack makes an approving nod. “Then keep saying maybe, baby girl. It has to be the right thing for both of you for it to be a good thing for either of you.”

I frown. “How do you know, Daddy, when it’s right? Everything with Neil is really good. I just don’t know if it’s right.”

Jack laughs. “You’ll know when you know. Don’t worry about it. When something is right it isn’t something you can miss.”

I study my dad for a moment. I’ve always wanted to know this and have never asked, but we just rummaged around in my personal life, so shouldn’t it be fair for me to rummage in his?

“Why haven’t you remarried?” I ask.

Jack’s eyes remain forward on the road, but there is a strange look on his face.

“I almost did. Once,” he says quietly.

Holy shit. I wasn’t expecting that one. How could he have a relationship serious enough to contemplate marriage without me ever knowing about it?

My eyes widen to their fullest and I turn in my seat until I’m directly facing him.

“Who? When? How? What happened?”

Jack gives me an amused look.

“I’m not answering all that. And you don’t need to know the details. It didn’t work out.”

“Why didn’t it work out?”

He shakes his head, exasperated with me giving him more questions.

“It doesn’t matter why. I’ve had a good life, Chrissie. No one gets everything that they want. Having enough is a pretty damn fine thing. I have enough.”

I watch him as we pull into the driveway, and suddenly I remember that day when Maria told me about Jack’s long-term lady friend. I wonder if the long-term lady friend is the woman Jack wanted to marry, if he still loves her, and if I will ever meet her.

He hops from the car and moves quickly to get my bag. For once it looks like he’s running from one of our father/daughter chats.

I climb from the car, shaking my head. Why doesn’t Jack share the details of his personal life with me the way he expects me to share mine with him?

He opens the front door for me, smiling as he waits for me to enter. Conversation over. Well, maybe we’ve both talked enough serious shit for one day.

Jack goes in one direction to put my suitcases in my room and I make my way through the rooms, poking my head in here and there, looking for Maria. I pause at the entry to the family room.