Authors: Christine Nolfi
Tags: #Mystery, #relationships, #christine nolfi, #contemporary fiction, #contemporary, #fiction, #Romance, #love, #comedy, #contemporary romance, #General Fiction
When his daughter reached him, he gripped her forearm like a lifeline. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and Birdie’s heart went out to him. He didn’t look well. He appeared as nervous as she was.
Frantically, she searched her memory for an inkling of him. If he was Paw Paw, surely the sight of him would bring something to the surface. It didn’t, and she brushed away her disappointment.
Acutely conscious of her manners, she rose as Meade steered him toward the couch. Silence weighed down the proceedings as if they’d all been plunged deep beneath the ocean.
His tawny gaze found Birdie.
Something whirled through the stifled atmosphere of the library. Landon’s expression shifted. Birdie snatched in a breath, nervously assessing the change coming over him.
Meade noticed too. Gripping his arm tightly, her attention tracked with his. Heat spread across Birdie’s cheeks as they all stared at her, Theodora included, as if she held a secret as rich as the rubies.
“Dad, I’d like you to meet Birdie,” Meade was saying.
“Birdie… you mean Bertha, darling. Her formal name is Bertha.”
The statement was issued in little more than a whisper. It was enough. Transfixed, Birdie let his voice sink deep into her soul.
Open your mouth, Bertha. The doctor won’t hurt you, darling. He simply needs to check your throat.
His voice. She knew his voice. It was as familiar as the beat of her heart.
Lost in his gaze, she was blinded by the disjointed images flung across her eyesight. Paw Paw, seated on the bed shuffling
Go Fish
cards while he checked her temperature. Paw Paw, buying her ice cream in the park and helping her load vegetables into a grocery cart.
Carrot, potato, parsnip,
she’d recited, the difficult words sticking to her lips like glue. But he’d clapped his hands, delighted with her efforts.
The tang of citrus and spice—the cologne he wore, even now—breathed life into her memories. Birdie visualized him as he’d been years ago, a young man with a snap in his step. How he’d clasped her tiny hands and spun her around with a hearty laugh as delightful and dizzying as his love.
The visions raining down weren’t hers alone. Landon’s quivering mouth drew open with surprise. Stepping away from his wide-eyed daughter, he clasped Birdie’s hands and brought her close.
And whispered in the sweetly impish voice she adored, “Parsnip, is that you?”
* * *
Birdie spent the next hour in a daze of discovery.
Under Theodora’s gentle prodding, the man she’d known as Paw Paw fit together the missing pieces of her life. Landon came to life, growing more determined, even confident, as he delved further into the particulars of Birdie’s childhood. The details regarding his ill-fated love affair with Wish Kaminsky stamped regret on his face. Yet he soldiered on, as if he couldn’t find peace until he’d given Birdie every remnant of a stolen past.
“When I fell in love with your mother, I was unaware of her marriage to Tanek,” he explained. He’d seated himself in the center of the couch between Birdie and Meade, no doubt sensing the wisdom in separating them. “Tanek was in prison at the time. In Minnesota if memory serves. I didn’t find out about him until much later.”
“What about
your
marriage?” Meade drained her glass. “You were cheating on my mother.”
He brushed his fingers across her knuckles. “My affair wasn’t a secret. Your mother didn’t care.” Landon’s mouth was grim, and Birdie suffered a deep sadness. What did it cost to reveal the contents of his failed marriage? “After we married I chose to believe we were happy. You were born and for a while your mother seemed content to play with you, to dress you… she’d dreamt of having a daughter. You brought her so much joy.”
“It wasn’t enough?” Despite the haughty pose, Meade’s voice grew whisper-soft. She was suddenly less formidable, and the comfort Birdie desperately wanted to bestow on Landon flowed on to his daughter. “Daddy, are you saying Mother regretted marrying you?”
“I managed her assets well, which pleased her. It was more her restless nature. I doubt one man could have ever satisfied Cat. She was… high spirited.”
Meade’s polished veneer slipped away. “She—she ran around on you?”
Some of the light faded from Landon’s gaze as well. “Your mother craved excitement. She quickly lost interest in people, charities—she rarely stood still.”
“Like my mother,” Birdie said, needing to rescue him before Meade forced a more graphic explanation. His gaze drew to hers with palpable relief. “Landon wasn’t the only man she took advantage of. My mother never stayed in a relationship very long. I’m not even sure she knew how much she hurt people. Relationships were a game. She kept a scorecard. If you didn’t pay up or play by her rules, she cut you out.”
Remarkably, Meade’s gaze softened. “Do you mean her relationships with men… or with you?” she asked, and Birdie was suddenly aware of the hurt needling her heart. “Last night, at the police station, you said you were living on your own at sixteen.”
Horror whipped across Landon’s face. “Is it true, Birdie?” She nodded meekly, and a fine rage climbed his cheeks until it blazed in his eyes. “What about the money I gave Wish for your education? I put money in your college fund, and set up a money market account. It was put in place to protect you!”
He’d provided for her education? “My mother was always broke,” she whispered, afraid. Anger transformed him before her eyes.
“She wasn’t! She had thousands—hundreds of thousands.”
“There wasn’t any money.” Dry-mouthed, she watched him grapple for self-control. “We lived day-to-day. In motels. On the road. Landon, she must have hid the money you gave her.”
“Don’t call me that!”
Swiftly rising, he strode to the wet bar where he stood with his back to them. Fury rode a tremor up his spine. His grief left a taste in the air, like ash from the fire that had consumed him years ago.
Theodora approached, but he warded her off. “No. Let me do this.” Turning, he held Birdie’s gaze like a fist. “Tanek was in prison when I met your mother.”
“I get it.” She tried to smile but her lips were frozen in place. “My mother gave you the widow routine. You fell for it.”
“She left soon after,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “Four years went by. I was mad with grief. She returned with you. Your eyes—”
“Yeah—violet. It’s unusual.”
With a gasp, Meade turned toward her. “Grandma’s eyes,” she whispered, and the moment uncoiled in a rush of ungovernable emotion.
Landon neared, his gait even. “Birdie, you were four years old when you ran a fever. I took you into Cleveland General. I told Wish you’d be seen by a specialist I trusted.” He knelt before her and took her hands in his. “The doctor ran the test, so I’d be sure. I had to make it right even if I couldn’t divorce Cat. She… took up with men. So many, and I had to protect Meade as well.”
“You tried to do what’s right.” Birdie replied, skimming his words, unable to see into their depths.
“I had proof you were mine,” he said, and his voice broke. “The paternity test—”
He cut off. The world shook.
And she finally understood. Oh, God—she did.
On a sob, Landon pulled her into his arms. “Birdie,” he said, shaking them both to the core, “I’m your father.”
Slouching on the recliner, Hugh growled at the insistent ringing of the doorbell. Glowering, he lobbed pretzels at the jarring sound.
“Go away!” A three-alarm fire couldn’t pry him from where he’d camped for a week in an undignified bout of self-pity.
Heroic, he wasn’t. An overrated virtue if ever there was one.
The ringing persisted, catapulting him to his feet. The television remote and several beer cans went flying.
“This better be good!” He yanked open the door to his condo with the sheer force of his impotent rage.
Leaping back, Anthony Perini raised his hands in surrender. “I’m unarmed. Don’t shoot.”
“Hell, it’s you.” Perplexed, Hugh scratched his groin. He really did need a shower. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Looking for you, idiot.” With a lopsided grin, Anthony surveyed his grizzled face. “Man, you smell like shit. Ever hear of deodorant?”
“Not lately. Go away.”
“Cut me some slack. Mary sent me to talk to you. She’s worried about you—everyone is.”
Including Birdie?
Hugh’s chest throbbed, and he gave himself a mental kick in the keister. He’d be damned if he’d ask about her.
She’s long gone, asshole. She probably left Ohio ten minutes after the story broke
.
“I called the
Register
. Your boss said you quit.”
“Last week.” Planting his feet, Hugh blocked the door. “Listen, I’m busy. There’s a boxing match on the tube in ten minutes.”
“I thought football was your game.”
“I need to see blood.”
Shoving past him, Anthony frowned at the pizza cartons thrown around the kitchen and the beer cans littering the floor of the living room. A tee shirt was balled up on the coffee table, the fabric a greasy brown after three days of mopping up spills.
He chuckled. “Man, does this bring back memories.” At Hugh’s questioning look, he added, “Life before marriage. It was a toss-up who was the bigger pig—Blossom or me. Now Mary has us on a schedule—shopping day, cleaning day—we earn points for tidiness.”
“So you’re into bondage.” Hugh kicked a beer can from his path. Truth was, it sounded nice. “How’s everyone in town?”
Anthony’s gaze filled with mirth, but he shut tight as a clam.
“Heard anything from Birdie?” Hugh persisted, surrendering the last of his dignity. “I thought she might leave someone, maybe Delia, a forwarding address.”
“God, you’re stubborn. Blossom was right. She said I wouldn’t be here five minutes before you asked the magic question.” Anthony tossed a paper plate from the couch, clearing a space to sit. “Birdie’s great. She’s still working at the restaurant, at least until the holidays are over. She’s come into money.”
“She’s moved up to robbing banks? That’s my girl. I knew she’d make something of herself.”
“It’s perfectly legit. At least the rubies are. Seems Justice intended for Birdie’s family to inherit half of the gems. So Birdie’s loaded. Theodora has a letter to prove it—straight from Justice’s diary.”
“Birdie found the rubies?” Stunned, Hugh dropped into his recliner. A few pretzels crunched beneath his ass, but his attention remained fixed on Anthony. “Where were they?”
“Theodora had them all along.”
“So Birdie’s still in Liberty?” Hope punched his heart, but he fended it off.
“Yeah, she stuck around. She can give you the details, assuming you have the sense to look her up.” Anthony’s expression grew serious. Switching topics, he asked, “If you’ve quit the
Register
, what are you planning to do? Finding work ten days before Christmas is a bitch. No one’s hiring.”
Hugh grunted. For now, he was content to leak money from his retirement account. Losing Birdie had put him into a bigger tailspin than he’d anticipated. Formulating a game plan for the future was impossible.
Without her, there
was
no future.
“I’m taking it easy for a few months.” He couldn’t admit he’d lost the taste for investigative journalism, and he certainly didn’t have the courage to ask if the
Register
coverage had destroyed Birdie. Her life as a petty thief was no longer a secret. Why hadn’t she been run out of town? “I’m thinking about moving South. Virginia or North Carolina. Start fresh.”
“I need help during the holidays.” Planting his elbows on his knees, Anthony clasped his hands. Something in his face put Hugh on alert and he prepared to get it, both barrels. “I don’t mean to lay on the guilt, but you hurt my kid. Blossom thought you were back in Liberty to make her famous all over again. A big deal to an eighth grader.”
Hugh suffered a pang of guilt. “I can imagine.”
“She contacted kids from here to Tokyo about the article she thought you were writing. You should see what she put on Facebook. Madison Avenue’s got nothing on her.”
Hugh’s guilt became excruciating. “She didn’t.”
“Welcome to the digital frontier, man. My kid starts bragging in cyberspace like she’s headed for stardom and embarrasses herself on five continents. She got so much mail, asking when she’d upload the article that she pinned a DO NOT ENTER sign on her computer monitor. Now she won’t touch the keyboard, and my kid lives for her computer. You’ve taken away the air she breathes.”
“Oh, man.” He was scum. The kind of scum buried at the bottom of a landfill. “Anthony, I should’ve played straight with you.”
“Yeah? Were you going to do that
after
you nailed my ass to the wall?” When Hugh’s jaw dropped, he added, “Birdie mentioned you were investigating me.”
“I guess all’s fair in love and war.” Reconsidering, Hugh groaned.
No, it’s not.
Women always collect more chits.
But he didn’t have time to relish the irony of Birdie getting in the last salvo because Anthony’s brows lowered threateningly. “Why did you think I took money from websites set up to save my kid’s life? You crossed the line, pal.”
Tormented, Hugh floundered in the thick silence. He’d quit the
Register
in a rage over what he’d done to Birdie. He’d tried not to think about how the news would affect Landon Williams, a broken man. What Hugh neglected to consider was the impact on Blossom. She was a kid, too young to comprehend why a trusted journalist would lie to her.
“I used Blossom to get to you.” He let his head drop. “My life has turned to shit because all I ever cared about was the story. If people got hurt, it didn’t matter. The news always came first.”
“And now?”
“I don’t know what I care about.” It took effort, but he wheeled his attention back to Anthony. “I can’t fix what I’ve done to your daughter. If there’s anything I can do to make it up to her—”
“Start by taking a shower. And for God’s sake, find a razor. It’s pay back time.”