Letting Go (2 page)

“Daddy, come down here. I wanna tell you a secret.”

Jed’s heart constricted. Funny how Mackenzie mimicked her mother’s actions even though she couldn’t possibly remember her. He bent down and laughed when she grabbed his face in her hands and Eskimo Nosed him. “I love you, Daddy.”

“Love you, too, munchkin,” he said. And he hoped that was the only kind of secret Mackenzie ever had where he was concerned. It wouldn’t be long and the secrets from their past would be all too real to his precious daughter. He prayed he could somehow soothe the hurt the truth would bring.

“Ya know, I remember one time I asked Jed out and instead of telling me no outright, he said maybe one day when I was a little older.”

Clarissa rolled her eyes and kept filling the salt shakers. “What were you, five?”

“Shoot no, girl. I was twelve years old and a right proud owner of a brand new training bra. I pretty much figured Jed would be my husband and we’d have ourselves a passel of kids. I was going to give them all names that started with J. I think I still have a spiral notebook somewhere with Beverly Dillon written in pretty curlicues followed by every J name I could think of.”

Clarissa didn’t want to be curious about the man and his daughter. His life. But she couldn’t help herself. Besides, she needed to keep her mind busy. Because right this minute she was feeling awfully sorry for her sad self.
 

“You’re not going to quit talking about him until I agree that he’s some kind of heart throb, are you?”

“Nope,” Bev affirmed with a laugh.

“Fine. You’re right. He’s cute if you like the Heathcliff type.”

“I never really thought of Jed as brooding or angry or anything like that,” Bev said.

“Are you kidding me? He’s totally gloomy. All serious, quiet intensity. Blah.” She shivered and then sat in one of the empty booths and put her feet up for a minute. They had thirty until the diner re-opened. “So, what’s his real story anyway?”

“He’s a good dad, a good man, and he’s got money. It doesn’t get much better than that,” Bev said, focusing in on the one thing she said was a must for any man in her life.
 

“Money’s always good,” Clarissa said, although she’d met her fair share of rich jerks.
 

A knock on the glass drew their attention and they both started in surprise then laughed.

Mackenzie Dillon stood on the other side of the glass doors. Her hair and clothes the same mess as before.
 

Bev flipped the sign to open and let the little girl in, and once again Clarissa was reminded of a whirlwind.

“Daddy said I can spend my tooth fairy money on a rootbeer float if you’ll make it for me, Bev. Will you, please?”

“Sure thing, Mack,” Bev said, taking the two dollars the girl held out and putting it in the register then getting busy on the float.

Clarissa almost felt bad about staying at the booth, but she wasn’t too certain about leaving Mackenzie by herself. Her dad really needed to do a better job keeping an eye on her.

“I like your pink nail polish, Clarissa. Daddy won’t let me paint my nails ‘til I’m older he said. Are you feeling bad ‘cause you don’t look so good right now. You look like you might be gettin’ the flu or something.”

Terrific. She started to say no, she felt just fine, but the little girl barreled right on. “I had the flu once and I threw up all over Miss Topkins. She’s my Sunday School teacher, an’ she’s old like you but she’s still a Miss, not MZZZZZZZ. That’s what she says. You wanna come to Sunday School with me tomorrow so I can get some points?”
 

And breath blessed breath.

Good grief. Clarissa tried to come up with an answer that would let the little girl down easy. Somehow she didn’t think the whole church isn’t my thing excuse would work with Mackenzie Dillon.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to come to church. Mr. Pyle won’t come to church with me either. He says he don’t much like the sonofagun preacher....”

The bell over the diner’s doors rang, and Mackenzie’s easy expression turned stormy when her father’s voice sounded.

“Mackenzie Dillon, did I tell you to come over to Pete’s or did I tell you to wait a minute?”

Stormy faced, the little girl crossed her arms over her chest. “I wanted my rootbeer float, Daddy. You said...”

“I said hold on a minute.”

Clarissa fought the tumult of emotions. On the one hand, she understood Jed Dillon’s anger. But the feed store was next door. And he, or the Tooth Fairy, had obviously given his daughter the money to buy the float. What did he expect anyway? Perfection? Mackenzie was a kid. Barely more than a baby.

Before she could even think the decision through, Clarissa turned to face the angry father and broke her first rule of how to get by without making connections.
 

“She was just asking me to church tomorrow. She said there were some points involved?”

Chapter Two

As stupid rash decisions went this one ranked up there with the time she’d climbed on the back of a mechanical bull on a twenty dollar bet and nearly lost her teeth.
 

But the surprise on Jed Dillon’s face made it one hundred percent worth it.

“You’re going to church with Mackenzie tomorrow?”

“Sure am.”

“Well, alrighty then,” he said, shooting his daughter a wink. And for a second Clarissa wondered if she’d been played, but she didn’t have time to think about it long because Mackenzie launched herself into Clarissa’s arms in a huge hug.
 

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you, Clarissa. You’re going to give me 100 points, and the girls’ll beat the boys, and I think Pastor West will let me play the drums maybe if I ask real nice.”

Then she scrambled away and threw her arms around her daddy’s legs. “You were right, Daddy. Clarissa does need a friend to take her to church, and that’s me.”

Bev sprayed whipped cream on top of the float and started to hand it forward, but Jed stopped her. “No can do, Bev. Mack took off without waiting. She’s got to suffer the consequence for that.”

Mackenzie’s lower lip quivered and she stomped her left foot. “But, Daddy, Clarissa is my best friend and she needed me. Her soul needed me.”

“No way, Champ.”
 

The scowl on the little girl’s face spoke volumes. Clarissa understood because she was thinking the same thing. Jed Dillon was way too tough on the imp.

But what did she know about parenting anyway?

Bev shrugged but took the two crisp dollar bills from the register and handed them back to Mackenzie. “Maybe next time, huh, Sugar?”

A tear rolled down the little girl’s tiny face as she took the money, carefully folded it and gave it back to her father.

Awkward silence fell in the diner, and Clarissa tried to think of a way to wiggle out of the deal. She couldn’t do it, though. Mackenzie’s tears and disappointment over the float were just too much.

“I guess we’ll see you tomorrow,” Jed said, his blue eyes smiling at her, as if he weren’t in the middle of ruining his daughter’s day.
 

His words made the enormity of her agreement sink in. She was going to church with a strange man and his child. Church. The last place in the world someone like her belonged.

But no way could she back down. Not when the girls were going to win and Mackenzie would get to play the drums. Maybe.
 

“Sure will,” she said.

“Classic con,” Bev said as the door closed on the two, leaving them alone in the diner again, and Clarissa couldn’t believe the irony. She was the last person who should fall for a con.

“Yeah, I got that. At least part of it.”

Remembering Mackenzie’s hug, Clarissa found she didn’t really mind so much.

*****

Sunday morning Jed pulled the truck up in front of Pete’s garage apartment and said a quick prayer for guidance and patience.
 

“Can I go an’ get her, Daddy?” Mack’s feet kicked back and forth on the booster in the back seat. “I invited her. Can I?”

He thought about letting his daughter go alone, dismissed the idea and walked with her to Clarissa’s door where a battered welcome sign hung lopsided under an ancient looking porch light.

He resisted the urge to straighten the sign as Mack knocked softly three times, biting her bottom lip as she did so.
 

When Clarissa answered the door, her appearance was like a kick to his gut.

Her blonde hair fell across her shoulders in curls that looked natural. Light makeup accentuated her large eyes. A crisp white shirt, jeans and boots shouldn’t be enticing, but they were. At least they were on her. Plus, she smelled good. Like a combination of vanilla and summer grass.

“You look pretty, Clarissa. Are you ready to go?” Mack held out her hand, and Jed wondered what was going through the strange woman’s mind when she paused. At her hesitation, alarm bells blared, but before he could pull Mackenzie back, protect her from someone so unsure of even that simple touch, Clarissa made peace with whatever was holding her back.

The minute Clarissa let his daughter take her hand, Mackenzie was off.

“You probably can’t come to Sunday School with me cuz Miss Topkins says we have to go to the class that matches our grade, but you gotta at least come see my room so I can get my points for bringin’ you. An’ when you get there I’ll give you a Jesus is in my heart sticker. You gotta’ go with daddy to his class. It’s fun, but they don’t get snacks like we do. I’ll save you a ‘Nilla Wafer if that’s what we have, but I can‘t save you Kool-Aid cuz it’s too messy. Stay away from Milton and Johnny the twins cuz they
 
don’t like girls and they’ll try to pull your hair. I like your hair all wavy like that. You kinda look like an angel and that’s a good thing since we’re going to church and angels live there. Do you wanna see my toe? I hurt it and the nail’s fallin’ off. It’s awesome.”

Worry aside, Jed almost laughed at the shell shocked look on Clarissa’s face, especially when Mack actually stuck her sandaled toe up for inspection.

“Hey, Mack, breathe chick-a-dee,” he said, but he appreciated the way Clarissa gently held Mack’s ankle and examined the hurt toe thoroughly before shuddering appreciatively at the injury Mack was so proud of.

“I am breathing, Daddy. If I wasn’t breathing I’d be dead. Hey Clarissa, are you taking a break or sticking around cuz my momma took a break and she’s been gone a super long time.”

That hurt. The rest of Mack’s words blended together into a long strand of nonsense. Who’d told her that semi-truth anyway? Was it really so much a part of her life that she could throw it out there in the middle of talks about toenails and angels and Clarissa’s hair?

Jed saw the speculation in Clarissa’s eyes as she glanced at him while Mackenzie kept right on talking, and he tried to hide the hurt. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed or ashamed, but he was caught off guard by Mack’s flippancy.
 

“Mack, seriously. Chill pill time. You’ve got to quit talking for a minute.” He pulled into the church parking lot, wishing he could quiz her now, ask her where she’d heard stories about her momma taking breaks.

“‘’Kay, Daddy. Will you tell me when a minute’s up,” she said, then slapped her hands over her mouth and closed her eyes and concentrated on being super dee duper still, which made Jed feel like a class-A jerk and a rotten father.
 

This time the look he saw in Clarissa’s eyes was a mix of laughter and concern. But she didn’t comment on it, and he was thankful for that.
 

When the three of them walked into church together, he hoped Clarissa wasn’t feeling as conspicuous as he was.
 

When they finally made their way to the Sunday School class, Mack was back in high form, talking twenty million miles a minute. And for someone who had reluctantly taken his daughter’s hand at first, Jed was impressed at how closely Clarissa listened to her, answered her, made Mack feel important and special, something he tried his best to do but failed at often.

“Miss Topkins, this is my new best friend, Clarissa. She came today so the girls could get 100 points, but she’s got to go to class with daddy cuz she’s way older than five.”

Mack’s Sunday School teacher introduced herself to Clarissa and thanked her for being there, said a quick hello to him then turned to take control of a room full of kindergartners.
 

Time for things to get real uncomfortable. At least that’s what Jed figured.

He started to move back to the hall leading to the sanctuary when Mack called Clarissa.

“Hey, Clarissa. Come closer.”

Clarissa, so far completely game for Mack’s antics, bent over close enough for Mack to put her hands on each side of her face and say, “You’re a good best friend. See you in a little bit. And don’t be afraid, ‘kay? No one’s mean here.”

How had a five-year-old little girl known she was afraid?
 

Clarissa marveled at the insight, the almost unreal ability of Mackenzie to zero in on her emotions. Strange.
 

And now she was alone with that little girl’s father, and everyone would think they were dating because they were at church together and this was so not a date, not a date, not, not, not.

Although, she had to admit, he looked good. Too good. The kind of good that led to trouble. His dark hair needed a cut, but the length looked nice on him. He’d left his hat in the truck. His robin’s egg blue shirt was starched. His jeans pressed. And he smelled entirely too enticing.

“Thanks for coming with her today,” he said. “It means a lot.”

“She’s pretty special,” Clarissa said, wishing she hadn’t ruined the effect of the words by practically coughing at first.

“You’ll have to excuse her talking so much. She’s just excited you’re here.”

Give her a break, dude. She’s a kid. “I don’t mind. It’s funny. And cute.”

“Tell that to her teachers,” Jed said then he waved away his own words. “They’ve got their hands full. A hyperactive kid who’s already read all their books and is bored to tears can’t be easy.”