two look cute together.”
“I don’t know. She’s probably used to being taken out to expensive restaurants by men who drive BMWs.” He shrugged. “I’m just a plain old boy from the country.”
Loralee set her cup down with a thud. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve got a lot going for you. A good job, and you’re going to college. Why, I know a dozen girls who’d jump at a chance to hook up with you.”
Right . Time to change the subject, or she’d be filling up his social calendar with blind dates. He took a final sip from the coffee, which didn’t taste nearly as good after it had cooled, and set the mug on the table.
“I’d better get going. I’ve got a paper to finish before class tomorrow.”
“No, wait!” Loralee straightened, a look of dismay on her face. “You can’t leave yet, not before you tell me the details. Where are you taking her? What are you wearing? Are you bringing her flowers?”
Does she think I’m an idiot? He waved in the general direction of the boys. “And risk a repeat performance? Not a chance.”
“Oh, come on.” She grinned. “I’d leave them home next time.”
Laughing, he launched himself to his feet. “Tell Walt I’ll see him after work on Wednesday. I’ll tell you about it then, after it’s over.”
“Bring her flowers,” she called after him as he headed for the door. “It’ll make a good impression.”
He lifted a hand in farewell and exited the restaurant.
The smell of cinnamon and hazelnut coffee saturated the interior of Tori’s car as thoroughly as the latte had saturated her clothes. The air conditioner turned the silky wet fabric chilly, while the edges that had started to dry felt stiff. She didn’t want to drive all the way back to Lexington like this. There was the box of her old clothes back at Gram’s house. She could drop by there and dig something out to change into before she headed home.
But it was up in the attic, near that other box.
Tori’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. Ryan asked why she’d never tried to find Daddy. But why should she? It wasn’t her place to find him. If he wanted to see his daughters, he would have contacted them. The years had piled up, fifteen of them, without a single word.
A stoplight ahead turned red, and she rolled to a halt. A couple pushing a stroller stepped off the curb and crossed the street past her front bumper. A few years older than her. The father pushed, both hands on the stroller’s handle, while the mother walked at his side. Tori’s insides knotted. Had Mom and Daddy walked like this with her when she was a baby? Would this father, too, one day desert his child to go off and . . .
And what? What had happened in Daddy’s life to make him walk away from his daughters without a backward glance? Did he just get tired of being bothered with them?
Which was so not fair. They never did anything to drive him away.
Except cry for Mom when he took us to the fair without her.
The light changed. The car rolled forward as she took her foot off the brake. She gave her head a shake, trying to dislodge the disturbing thoughts that hovered like a thick fog in her mind. That hadn’t been the only time she cried, either. Her memory was sketchy, but Tori knew there were a couple of other times when Daddy had come to pick them up and she cried. And once, she’d refused to go at all. He tried to bribe her with ice cream, but she staunchly refused. She’d stood beside Mom at the front window watching Joan and Allie climb into Daddy’s car, her stomach churning.
It couldn’t have been easy for him, having his youngest daughter rebuff him like that.
She jerked her head upright as the thought slapped at her brain. Her deadbeat dad deserved no sympathy at all, not from her. She reached down and cranked the stereo up loud, willing the music to drown out any more ridiculous thoughts. A nine-year-old child was not to blame for her parent’s failures.
Only one car sat in the
“I don’t know. She’s probably used to being taken out to expensive restaurants by men who drive BMWs.” He shrugged. “I’m just a plain old boy from the country.”
Loralee set her cup down with a thud. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve got a lot going for you. A good job, and you’re going to college. Why, I know a dozen girls who’d jump at a chance to hook up with you.”
Right . Time to change the subject, or she’d be filling up his social calendar with blind dates. He took a final sip from the coffee, which didn’t taste nearly as good after it had cooled, and set the mug on the table.
“I’d better get going. I’ve got a paper to finish before class tomorrow.”
“No, wait!” Loralee straightened, a look of dismay on her face. “You can’t leave yet, not before you tell me the details. Where are you taking her? What are you wearing? Are you bringing her flowers?”
Does she think I’m an idiot? He waved in the general direction of the boys. “And risk a repeat performance? Not a chance.”
“Oh, come on.” She grinned. “I’d leave them home next time.”
Laughing, he launched himself to his feet. “Tell Walt I’ll see him after work on Wednesday. I’ll tell you about it then, after it’s over.”
“Bring her flowers,” she called after him as he headed for the door. “It’ll make a good impression.”
He lifted a hand in farewell and exited the restaurant.
The smell of cinnamon and hazelnut coffee saturated the interior of Tori’s car as thoroughly as the latte had saturated her clothes. The air conditioner turned the silky wet fabric chilly, while the edges that had started to dry felt stiff. She didn’t want to drive all the way back to Lexington like this. There was the box of her old clothes back at Gram’s house. She could drop by there and dig something out to change into before she headed home.
But it was up in the attic, near that other box.
Tori’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. Ryan asked why she’d never tried to find Daddy. But why should she? It wasn’t her place to find him. If he wanted to see his daughters, he would have contacted them. The years had piled up, fifteen of them, without a single word.
A stoplight ahead turned red, and she rolled to a halt. A couple pushing a stroller stepped off the curb and crossed the street past her front bumper. A few years older than her. The father pushed, both hands on the stroller’s handle, while the mother walked at his side. Tori’s insides knotted. Had Mom and Daddy walked like this with her when she was a baby? Would this father, too, one day desert his child to go off and . . .
And what? What had happened in Daddy’s life to make him walk away from his daughters without a backward glance? Did he just get tired of being bothered with them?
Which was so not fair. They never did anything to drive him away.
Except cry for Mom when he took us to the fair without her.
The light changed. The car rolled forward as she took her foot off the brake. She gave her head a shake, trying to dislodge the disturbing thoughts that hovered like a thick fog in her mind. That hadn’t been the only time she cried, either. Her memory was sketchy, but Tori knew there were a couple of other times when Daddy had come to pick them up and she cried. And once, she’d refused to go at all. He tried to bribe her with ice cream, but she staunchly refused. She’d stood beside Mom at the front window watching Joan and Allie climb into Daddy’s car, her stomach churning.
It couldn’t have been easy for him, having his youngest daughter rebuff him like that.
She jerked her head upright as the thought slapped at her brain. Her deadbeat dad deserved no sympathy at all, not from her. She reached down and cranked the stereo up loud, willing the music to drown out any more ridiculous thoughts. A nine-year-old child was not to blame for her parent’s failures.
Only one car sat in the
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