back to Mexico I couldn’t have bribed or blackmailed a judge into giving me custody. Then she married Enrique, and he wanted to adopt you.”
“He didn’t, you know. He just made me take his name. My mother decided it would be better not to muddy my U.S. citizenship.” Christina stared at him, blinking to keep from crying. “I loved you. How could you turn your back on me?”
Christina pulled her sweater cuffs over her hands and wiped her eyes. When she’d finished, she tucked her hands under her legs and from somewhere found a dazzling smile. Like a sleight of hand in a magic show, the vulnerable child disappeared. In her place sat a composed, reserved woman. “So, Dad, just how many kids do you have?”
It took a second for Jessie to follow Christina through the abrupt transition. “You have three sisters.” He cleared his throat. “You had a brother. Frank. He was killed in the war before the three of you were born.”
It was time to show them the pictures. He dug them out of his pocket and put them on his lap.
“Which war?” Christina asked.
Was it that she was so young or that he was so old? “Vietnam,” he said simply.
Rachel came forward, zeroing in on Jessie. “Can we cut this pseudo reunion garbage and get to the reason you asked us here?” She made a point of looking at her elegant watch. “I’m due at a soccer game in a couple of hours.”
An incredibly effective put-down. Jessie was impressed. With a minimum of words, Rachel had dismissed the possibility that meeting her father and sisters for the first time held any real meaning. “It’s nothing complicated,” he said, suddenly incapable of telling them the real reason, of revealing his guilt, of asking for the forgiveness he so desperately needed. “I wanted to see you. And I wanted you to meet each other. I’m sorry Elizabeth didn’t come. Maybe next time.”
Ginger was the first to react. “You can’t be serious. Why would any of us want to put ourselves through this again?”
“Curiosity,” Jessie offered hopefully.
Rachel reached for her purse. “Count me out. I have as much family trouble as I can handle right now. And as for seeing you—I lived thirty-six years without the privilege. Nothing you’ve said or done today has made me think I missed anything.”
It was Christina’s turn. “You’re wrong,” she said softly. “You missed a lot. We all did.” She looked at Jessie, her heart on her sleeve, a catch in her voice. “I wish I could understand why you did what you did. Maybe it would make a difference. Maybe I’d be able to forgive you.”
She looked from Ginger to Rachel. “I won’t be back either. It’s not that I don’t care that you’re my sisters, just that I don’t think you care that I’m yours.” The corner of her mouth lifted in a half-smile. She settled her gaze on Rachel. “You say you already have enough family trouble. Well, I get enough of feeling like an outsider at home. I sure don’t need any more from the likes of you two.”
An overwhelming fatigue gripped Jessie. He knew it was his last chance to say something to alter the ugly outcome of their meeting, but the words wouldn’t come. He looked down at the bent and tattered photographs and understood that it was too late. He slipped them back inside his pocket and silently watched his daughters file out of the room, waiting for a backward glance from Christina that never came.
Chapter Ten
Lucy
Lucy stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the sixth floor. She’d followed Elizabeth to the parking garage, trying to talk her into changing her mind about seeing Jessie. Not surprisingly, Elizabeth had proved as stubborn as her father. Nothing Lucy could say, none of the appeals she’d made, had penetrated Elizabeth’s resolve.
Lucy wished she could convince herself that a couple of days would make a difference, that with a little time Elizabeth might have a change of heart and agree to another meeting, but there
“He didn’t, you know. He just made me take his name. My mother decided it would be better not to muddy my U.S. citizenship.” Christina stared at him, blinking to keep from crying. “I loved you. How could you turn your back on me?”
Christina pulled her sweater cuffs over her hands and wiped her eyes. When she’d finished, she tucked her hands under her legs and from somewhere found a dazzling smile. Like a sleight of hand in a magic show, the vulnerable child disappeared. In her place sat a composed, reserved woman. “So, Dad, just how many kids do you have?”
It took a second for Jessie to follow Christina through the abrupt transition. “You have three sisters.” He cleared his throat. “You had a brother. Frank. He was killed in the war before the three of you were born.”
It was time to show them the pictures. He dug them out of his pocket and put them on his lap.
“Which war?” Christina asked.
Was it that she was so young or that he was so old? “Vietnam,” he said simply.
Rachel came forward, zeroing in on Jessie. “Can we cut this pseudo reunion garbage and get to the reason you asked us here?” She made a point of looking at her elegant watch. “I’m due at a soccer game in a couple of hours.”
An incredibly effective put-down. Jessie was impressed. With a minimum of words, Rachel had dismissed the possibility that meeting her father and sisters for the first time held any real meaning. “It’s nothing complicated,” he said, suddenly incapable of telling them the real reason, of revealing his guilt, of asking for the forgiveness he so desperately needed. “I wanted to see you. And I wanted you to meet each other. I’m sorry Elizabeth didn’t come. Maybe next time.”
Ginger was the first to react. “You can’t be serious. Why would any of us want to put ourselves through this again?”
“Curiosity,” Jessie offered hopefully.
Rachel reached for her purse. “Count me out. I have as much family trouble as I can handle right now. And as for seeing you—I lived thirty-six years without the privilege. Nothing you’ve said or done today has made me think I missed anything.”
It was Christina’s turn. “You’re wrong,” she said softly. “You missed a lot. We all did.” She looked at Jessie, her heart on her sleeve, a catch in her voice. “I wish I could understand why you did what you did. Maybe it would make a difference. Maybe I’d be able to forgive you.”
She looked from Ginger to Rachel. “I won’t be back either. It’s not that I don’t care that you’re my sisters, just that I don’t think you care that I’m yours.” The corner of her mouth lifted in a half-smile. She settled her gaze on Rachel. “You say you already have enough family trouble. Well, I get enough of feeling like an outsider at home. I sure don’t need any more from the likes of you two.”
An overwhelming fatigue gripped Jessie. He knew it was his last chance to say something to alter the ugly outcome of their meeting, but the words wouldn’t come. He looked down at the bent and tattered photographs and understood that it was too late. He slipped them back inside his pocket and silently watched his daughters file out of the room, waiting for a backward glance from Christina that never came.
Chapter Ten
Lucy
Lucy stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the sixth floor. She’d followed Elizabeth to the parking garage, trying to talk her into changing her mind about seeing Jessie. Not surprisingly, Elizabeth had proved as stubborn as her father. Nothing Lucy could say, none of the appeals she’d made, had penetrated Elizabeth’s resolve.
Lucy wished she could convince herself that a couple of days would make a difference, that with a little time Elizabeth might have a change of heart and agree to another meeting, but there
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