Sasha’s Dad (13 page)

Curiosity took her toward the end of the barn so she’d see her visitors before they saw her.

Dutch’s red pickup drove into the yard, and he wasn’t alone. Sasha was in the passenger seat.

Claire looked at her watch. It was only ten on Sunday morning.

She walked over to the truck, which was parked near the house. Sasha had already bounded up the farmhouse steps and begun to pound on the side door.

“I’m over here!” Claire shouted. Dutch’s head turned and he lowered the passenger window. Sasha came back down the steps, then ran over to Claire.

Sasha’s hug made Claire take a step back so they both didn’t end up on the grass. Claire laughed and held her coffee mug up so as to not spill on either of them.

“Careful, Sasha, you almost got yourself burned!” She hugged Sasha with one arm, then looked at Dutch. “Is everything okay?” she asked.

Sasha’s smile was big and wide. The sun glinted off her braces with their pink wires. Claire was impressed, not for the first time, with how wonderful it would’ve been to pick the color of her braces when she was Sasha’s age.

“Everything’s great!”

“That’s right—today’s the
real
day! Happy birthday. Here—” Claire put her mug on the grass “—let me give you a proper birthday hug.”

Sasha hugged her back quickly, then wriggled out of the embrace, unable to contain her news. “We’ve come to kidnap you!”

“Kidnap me?” Claire frowned at Dutch, who gave her a shrug. His expression said “don’t blame me.”

“Yes! I get to pick what I want to do on my birthday, and I want you to come to Annapolis with us. Can you?”

Claire stared at Sasha. “Well…I was going to get some of my consulting work done today—” At the crestfallen look on Sasha’s face, Claire stopped. “Of course I can come. Let me get a sweater.” She hurried over to the truck.

“Whose idea was this?” she asked in a low voice.

“Whose do you think?” The lines around his eyes crinkled and he allowed a full smile to lighten his face. Claire’s body reacted in a way that was not “just friends.” She loved his obvious delight in pleasing Sasha and what it told her about the kind of dad he was. The kind of
man
.

“Sasha’s.” She glanced at Dutch’s attire. “What I’m wearing is okay?”

“Of course. Dinner afterward will be casual, too.”

“Dinner?” Sasha had said they were driving into Annapolis. Lunch, okay, but dinner, too?

“Wait a minute. It’s Sasha’s birthday. So you’re all going to your parents’ for her birthday dinner, right?” No way was Claire going to his family’s house. She knew her limits.

“Sasha wants Japanese food—sushi—so we’ll stay in Annapolis for dinner. You’re invited, and no arguing. My parents have been asking about you ever since Sasha started visiting the llamas. And Ginny will be there—she’s excited about seeing you again.”

Claire’s stomach flipped. She and Ginny had always been cordial. She’d never had an issue with Dutch’s parents, either. How much they knew about her past with Dutch was a mystery. They’d known her as a child, of course, and then when she and Dutch had dated. But their dating time had been so brief. No more than—what?—three years.

The bigger worry was whether they blamed her for not visiting Natalie, not supporting her.

They all knew she was coming to dinner. If they did harbor a grudge, she didn’t stand a chance. However this was
Sasha’s
day and she’d be there for Sasha.

“Fine. I’ll go collect my purse and a few other things and be right back.” She needed time to collect her
wits,
she thought wryly. It was never simple with Dutch.

You’re doing this for Sasha.

He took his gaze off Claire and looked at his beautiful daughter.

“Of course she is, pumpkin. We surprised her, that’s all. Claire is the type who needs some time to absorb it.” He hadn’t phoned her for precisely this reason. She would’ve instantly said no.

“You sound like you’ve been thinking a lot about Claire, Dad.”

Dutch tried not to react, although Sasha’s observation was all too accurate. She’d caught him staring at Claire a couple of times, and now she saw him watching the farmhouse door like some lovesick puppy.

“I’ve known her our whole lives, honey.” He tugged Sasha’s hair. “Don’t forget, she’s the one who named me Dutch.”

“Oh, yeah.” Sasha acted casual, but Dutch knew better. His little girl was quickly turning into a wise young lady.

“Do not get any ideas in that head of yours, Sasha.” He kept his tone soft but insistent.

“I’m not!” Sasha protested, but he saw the smile on her face and the sparkle in her eyes. He liked her strong will and knew it would serve her well over a lifetime. But some days it gave him a few gray hairs.

The three of them shared a wooden bench under the awning of the boat. Sasha sat on the port side so she had an unobstructed view. Dutch sat next to her, with Claire on his other side. Claire assumed they’d switch positions when the boat turned around to go back toward Annapolis Harbor. She was trying to keep her stomach steady until then.

She’d refrained from telling Dutch or Sasha that she suffered from motion sickness. It wasn’t something Dutch would remember from their childhood. If he did, he probably figured she’d outgrown it. For the most part, she had. Long drives and flights didn’t bother her anymore.

But water…

Claire had never developed an affinity for the ocean. Her idea of a great time that involved water was walking along the beach or taking a soak in the tub.

Chugging around the point of the U.S. Naval Academy on a diesel boat, whose fumes would make the staunchest sailor gag, was not even on Claire’s list of
possible
good times.

“Dad, look at the mids!” Sasha squealed with delight at a group of midshipmen who were walking together along the seawall.

“They’re plebes. Freshmen. Upperclassmen don’t have to wear their uniforms on Sunday.” Dutch spoke to Sasha before he cast Claire a sidelong glance.

“Do you remember Becky Adams?” he asked. His voice was the only thing that could make her feel better.

“Sure do. We actually ran into each other in D.C. at the Pentagon.” Claire hoped he didn’t notice that she didn’t look at him for very long. She had to keep her eyes on the horizon or the coffee she’d had earlier would make a comeback.

“No kidding?” Dutch laughed. “I never pictured her as the navy type while we were in high school. How’d she do?”

Annoyance made Claire forget her nausea.

“What do you mean, ‘navy type’?” She’d never known Dutch to be a chauvinist. Now with a daughter, he hadn’t changed his mind, had he? Grown protective in some regressive way?

“She seemed so indecisive when we were in school. Her life revolved around parties, boys and clothes. It’s hard to imagine her being part of a military unit, having to put others above herself.”

“She’s done well. She was even promoted a year early, which in the navy is a huge deal, especially for someone still relatively junior.” Claire made sure she had his attention and that his gaze was on her before she spoke. “People
do
change, Dutch.”

His expression remained neutral, but she saw the gleam in his eyes. “So I’ve been told.” He looked at her in the same way he had right before he’d kissed her beside his truck. At Sasha’s voice he averted his gaze.

“Dad! Check out the huge ship out there!” Dutch turned toward Sasha. A wave of nausea hit Claire and she clung to the post of the awning with both hands. She peered at her watch. The boat tour was supposed to be back in port in ten minutes. Claire stared out at the harbor. She silently prayed that she wouldn’t make a fool of herself by throwing up during the cruise.

“Claire, are you having fun?” she screamed over the engine as they sped in toward the harbor.

“Oh, yes!” Claire answered with a thumbs-up, and then looked back at the shore. She must like being out on the water as much as Sasha did. Claire hadn’t looked at anything but the view the entire time.

The cruise was ending way too soon. Sasha loved being out on the water. In her dreams she sometimes sailed on a big beautiful boat with Mom. She hated waking up from those dreams.

Dad told her that they’d taken Mom to Hawaii right after her first round with the cancer and chemo, and Sasha and her mom had gone sailing with Dad. Sasha supposed her dream of Mom and sailing came from that. She’d only been four at the time and she didn’t remember much about the actual trip. Dad said she’d gotten strep throat and the antibiotics had made her really sleepy.

“Dad, can we go out for ice cream?”

“Sure, but not until after we get some lunch.” Dad was big on eating good stuff first, then the junk. He thought she wouldn’t be able to eat as much ice cream if they had a “proper meal” at her favorite sandwich place, but he was wrong. Anyway, it was her twelfth birthday, Claire was with them, and Dad and Claire were getting along great.

Dad turned to Claire. Sasha heard him ask what kind of ice cream she wanted.

Sasha leaned forward to hear Claire’s answer.

Claire didn’t look so good.

“Ice cream?” Sasha could barely hear Claire over the sound of the engine and the wind. Claire screwed up her face and her hair was all wild and crazy. Sasha was going to laugh, but then Claire whirled around and leaned over the boat’s railing.

And barfed.

“Ewww,” Sasha couldn’t help groaning.
Ick.

Dad had his hand on Claire’s back, his other hand on the railing. Sasha saw that he was rubbing Claire’s back like he was trying to make her feel better. That had to be a good sign. It had to mean that he liked Claire more than he realized. Sasha smiled.

Dad turned and noticed her grin. He frowned.

Uh-oh. He thought she was laughing at Claire throwing up. Great. Sometimes Dad
so
didn’t get it.

Dad stayed with Claire until the boat pulled up to the pier. “Sasha, get our stuff, will you?” He motioned toward the small backpack that he’d used to carry their camera and water bottles.

“Yeah, sure, Dad.” They all got onto the pier and started walking back toward the main part of town.

“Claire, are you okay?”

Claire nodded at Sasha. “Yes, but I’m embarrassed about…what happened. I hope I didn’t ruin your big cruise.” Claire did look a lot better now that they were on solid ground.

“No, of course you didn’t.” Sasha turned to Dad. “Can we go get lunch?”

“Sure.” Dad wasn’t smiling, though. But his arm was around Claire, so that was another good sign. Sasha sidled up to Dad and put her own arm around his waist.

“Thanks, Dad. This is the best day ever!”

“You’re welcome, pumpkin.” He kissed the top of her head and Sasha smiled. Dad couldn’t be that mad considering the way he’d hugged her back.

“Your face was kind of green out there.”

“Thanks, Dutch. I appreciate the support.” Her tone was light, and the smile in her eyes let him know she was already getting over her stomach troubles.

“You should’ve told us you get seasick.”

“Are you kidding? It was the most fun I’ve had on a Sunday in forever. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” Her earnest expression shot a bolt of warmth through him.

She wasn’t feeding him a line. She meant it.

He hugged her more firmly, aware of Sasha on the other side.
Talk about balancing the women in your life.

“Claire, I’m so sorry you got sick,” Sasha piped up. “When I’m sick, after I’m sick, I mean—” she smiled her goofy twelve-year-old smile “—I always get really hungry. Maybe it’ll help if you eat something.”

“That would be wonderful.”

Dutch glanced down at Claire and met her eyes.

Her gaze was direct and clear. While she didn’t return his embrace, she didn’t try to get out from under his arm, either.

And then she smiled at Dutch. Real happiness shone in her eyes.

She’s sincere.

“Give me a big old sandwich from Chick and Ruth’s and I’ll be fine.” Claire laughed and broke eye contact with him.