Maggie's Dad by Diana Palmer Page B

mind,” he said noncommittally. “Of course your opinion matters. We need to talk.”
    She wanted to ask what good he thought it would do to talk, when he’d told his daughter that he was sick of Miss Hayes and wanted her out of town because she was making his life miserable. She wasn’t going to mention that. It would be like tattling. But it hurt more than anything else had in recent days.
    â€œWell?” he persisted impatiently.
    â€œVery well. What time shall I meet you, and where?”
    The question seemed to surprise him. “I’ll pick you up at your home, of course,” he said. “About six.”
    She really should refuse. She looked into his dark eyes and knew that she couldn’t. One last date, shewas thinking sadly. She could have one last date with him before the ordeal began….
    She managed a smile. “All right.”
    He watched her sort out the papers on her desk and put them away methodically. His eyes were on her hands, on the unusual thinness of them. She looked unwell. Her mother’s death surely had affected her, but this seemed much more than worry. She was all but skeletal.
    â€œI’ll see you at six,” she said when she’d put up the classroom and walked out into the hall with him.
    He looked down at her, noting her frailty, her slenderness. He still towered over her, as he had years before. She was twenty-seven, but his eyes saw a vivacious, loving girl of eighteen. What had happened to change her whole personality so drastically? She was an old soul in a young body. Had he caused all that?
    She glanced up at him curiously. “Was there something else?”
    He shrugged. “Maggie showed me an A on her homework paper.”
    â€œI didn’t give her the grade,” she replied. “She earned it. It was good work.”
    He stuck his hands into his pockets. “She has a bright mind, when she wants to use it.” His eyes narrowed. “I said some harsh things the last time I was here. Now’s as good a time as any to apologize. I was out of line.” He couldn’t go further and admit that Maggie had lied to him. He was still raw, asAntonia surely was, about Sally’s lies. It was too much to admit that his daughter was a liar as well.
    â€œMost parents who care about their children would have challenged a zero,” she said noncommittally.
    â€œI haven’t been much of a parent,” he said abruptly. “I’ll see you at six.”
    She watched him with sad eyes as he walked away, the sight of his long back reminding her poignantly of the day he’d ended their engagement.
    He paused at the door, sensing her eyes, and he turned unexpectedly to stare at her. It was so quick that she didn’t have time to disguise her grief. He actually winced, because he knew that she’d looked like that nine years ago. He hadn’t looked back, so he hadn’t known.
    She drew in a steadying breath and composed her features. She didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say that he hadn’t already read in her face.
    He started to speak, but apparently he couldn’t find the words, either.
    â€œAt six,” she repeated.
    He nodded, and this time he went through the doorway.

Chapter Six
    A ntonia went through every dress she had in her closet before she settled on a nice but simple black crepe dress with short sleeves and a modest neckline. It reached just below her knees and although it had once fit her very nicely, it now hung on her. She had nothing that looked the right size. But it was cold and she could wear a coat over it, the one good leather one she’d bought last season on sale. It would cover the dress and perhaps when she was seated, it wouldn’t look so big on her. She paired the dress with a thin black leather belt, gold stud earrings and a small gold cross that her mother had given her when she graduated from high school. She wore no other jewelry, except