Days Like This Read online

  “She’s not a responsibility, she’s a child. Your child.” She took in a sharp breath. “Oh, Flash—” Another tear trickled down her cheek. “You have a kid.”

  “I’m so sorry.” He picked up his napkin and reached across the table to swipe away her tears. “I know it’s a shock.”

  “That’s not why I’m crying. I’m crying because I’m thinking about all those years you missed because that damn woman couldn’t be bothered to tell you that you had a daughter. She stole fifteen years of a relationship with your child away from you. And of course I’m sorry she’s dead. I always liked Sandy. But—damn her! How could she do this to you?”

  “I don’t know. But if we do this—”

  “There is no if. This is your little girl we’re talking about. We’re doing it.”

  “Damn it, Casey, this will change everything! We’ve only been married for a year. We’ve barely had any time together as a couple. And it took us so long to get here. What if this screws things up for us? I’m not willing to jeopardize what we have. This isn’t a matter of trying her on for size and changing our minds if she’s not a good fit. This is a permanent commitment. One that’s so unfair to you. How can I ask you to raise another woman’s child?”

  “Rob, she’s your child. Part of you. And of course it’s a permanent commitment, one that’ll change our day-to-day life, but we’re solid, you and I. Nothing will change the way we feel about each other. We’ll work through whatever problems arise like the rational adults we are. We won’t let this come between us.”

  “That sounds great in theory. But in practice? It might not be so easy. You’re my first priority. Always. The way I feel about you is the most important thing in my life.”

  “Sweetie, I hate like hell to burst your bubble, but it doesn’t work that way. The minute you step into that little girl’s life, she becomes your number-one priority. That’s the way parenthood works. Trust me when I say this. I know it from experience.”

  He let out a long, ragged sigh. “This isn’t the way it was supposed to be.” He took her hand and threaded fingers with hers. “It was supposed to be you and me and a couple of babies. Our babies. We weren’t supposed to start out with a teenager I fathered with a woman I haven’t even thought about in fifteen years.”

  She brought their joined hands to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “Life is what happens while you’re making other plans,” she reminded him. “And you and me and those babies? It’ll still happen. This just means our kids will have a big sister to look up to. And we’ll have a built-in babysitter.”

  Darkly, he said, “Right.”

  “You listen to me, MacKenzie. This is a miracle! Something wonderful like this, coming out of the tragedy of Sandy’s death, like the phoenix rising from the ashes. You’re going to have a relationship with this beautiful daughter you never even knew about. No matter how you look at it, my friend, that is a miracle.”

  “Have I told you lately what an extraordinary woman you are?”

  She released his hand, got up, and walked around the table. He pushed back his chair, and she settled on his lap and wound an arm around his neck. “You,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder, “are going to be an amazing father.”

  He buried his face in her hair, and they sat for a long time before he said, “I don’t know anything about teenagers.”

  “Neither do I. But we have Rose and Jesse just down the road. Between the two of them, they know pretty much everything there is to know about kids. We will be calling them frequently.”

  “Oh, shit. I have to tell Rose. And my parents. I can deal with the rest of the family later.”

  “First, you need to call the lawyer back.” She kissed his cheek and got up from his lap. “I’ll clean the kitchen and put supper in the fridge. We’ll reheat it and try again later.”

  While he took the cordless phone and went out onto the back steps to make his call, she sprinted upstairs to change out of the suit. Then she stood in the hallway outside her bedroom, contemplating all those closed doors. She had three empty rooms up here. Would Paige feel more comfortable near them, or would she prefer to maintain some independence, some distance between herself and these new parents fate had forced upon her? Casey couldn’t forget the emotional roller-coaster she’d ridden after her own mother’s death. There had been grief, and frustration, and resentment at being forced to grow up overnight at the tender age of fifteen.

  But what stood out most in her memory was the terrible feeling of isolation. What she’d needed more than anything had been simple human contact. Closeness with the living, to ease the pain of the dead. She’d been lucky; Dad and her sister Colleen had been there, and she’d had extended family nearby. Paige, on the other hand, would be with strangers. Blood relative or not, Paige’s father was a stranger to her. It wouldn’t be easy for the girl.

  Casey went back downstairs, and while she loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the mess he’d made cooking a meal neither of them had touched, she listened to the soft murmur of Rob’s voice as he talked to the lawyer. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, and she was tempted to go outside to eavesdrop, but if he’d wanted her to hear, he would have stayed in the kitchen. This was his personal business, and she couldn’t step into the middle of it unless she was invited. He would share whatever he chose to share when he was ready.

  Nearly a half-hour later, just as she was rinsing the last of the soap suds from the kitchen sink, he came inside and set the phone in its cradle. He stepped up behind her, folded his arms around her and pressed his face to her hair. “We’re driving down to Boston in the morning to pick her up.”

  Casey turned in his arms, saw the terror in his eyes, and melted. It was true, what she’d told him earlier; she would walk through fire for this man. “This will turn out fine,” she said. “We’ll get through this together.”

  “I talked to her. Paige. I got her number from the lawyer and I called her.”

  “That’s what took you so long. I was starting to wonder. How did it go? How did she sound?”

  “Like a typical teenager. Mostly monosyllabic. I told her how sorry I was about her mother, and how excited I was to find out I had a daughter. I made sure she understood that if I’d known about her before, I would’ve been there for her, right from day one. I told her about you, said we were good people and we’d give her a good home, and she’d have aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents. Lots of extended family, on my side and yours. I hope I didn’t overwhelm her. Family isn’t something she’s ever had. I didn’t know what else to say, except that we’d be down tomorrow to bring her home.”

  “I’d say you did just fine.”

  “I called Rose, too. I didn’t tell her what was going on, just asked if they were planning to be home because we wanted to come over and talk to them about something important. This is kind of a big thing to tell people over the phone. As a matter of fact, I think we should stop in and tell Mom and Dad in the morning, since we’ll be in Boston anyway.”

  “I agree. This isn’t the kind of news a man wants to give his mother over the phone. Listen, I’ve been thinking about where we should put her. The poor kid is going to feel so alone. I think we should give her the room next to ours.”

  “Great. There goes my sex life.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Surely you knew that was inevitable once we started having kids?”

  Darkly, he said, “I figured we had a few good years left before it all went to shit.”

  “I’m teasing you, MacKenzie. Your sex life isn’t going anywhere. Trust me.” She brushed a single curl away from his face. “We’ll just have to be a little quieter, that’s all.”

  He raised both eyebrows and gave her a knowing look, and she said, “Never mind. I forgot myself for a minute there. Maybe we should give her the downstairs guest room instead.”

  “That’s a much better idea, Fiore. Unless you want to give her an advanced sexual education at the age of fifteen.”


  “Surely you jest. At fifteen, she probably knows more about sex than we do.”

  He let out a snorting laugh, then quickly sobered. “This isn’t funny, is it? This is my daughter we’re talking about. She’s fifteen years old, and if those school photos are any indication, she’s a knockout. Does this mean I have to go out and buy a shotgun to keep the hordes of teenage boys away?”

  “It could come to that.” She patted his cheek affectionately, gave him a quick kiss on the lips, and said, “Welcome to parenthood.”

  ***

  Rose and Jesse Lindstrom lived in a two-hundred-year-old Colonial on thirty acres with over a thousand feet of prime river frontage. Considering the going price of waterfront property, if Jesse ever decided to sell, he could make a fortune. He’d grown up in this house, and after his parents became snowbirds and started spending winters in Arizona, they’d sold him the family homestead for a ridiculously low price. The house had needed major updating, and Jesse had dropped a ton of money on renovations. The end result was a wonderful family home that would probably stand for another two hundred years.

  The Lindstroms were one of those “yours, mine, and ours” blended families that had come about totally by accident. Both of them divorced parents of teenagers, Rose and Jesse had met last summer at Casey and Rob’s wedding. The attraction between them had been instantaneous and intense, so intense that a few weeks later, Rose MacKenzie Kenneally had started throwing up every morning.

  Casey had thought they were crazy when her sister’s ex-husband and her husband’s sister had announced they were getting married. They came from different worlds, their personalities were complete opposites—Rose was fire, while Jesse was ice—and they didn’t even know each other. Except, apparently, in the biblical sense. But somehow, they’d made it work. Rose had moved her entire household, including two teenagers, an iguana, and a dog the size of a Frigidaire, from South Boston to rural Maine to live with Jesse and his teenage son. Four months ago, their daughter Beth had been born, and nowadays, nobody even remembered their unconventional start.

  When they knocked on the door, Chauncey began barking frantically. Jesse opened the door, dog collar in hand to hold back eighty pounds of slavering mutt, and said, “Come on in.” Upstairs, the stereo was booming as Axl Rose screeched an ear-splitting rendition of Welcome to the Jungle. With Chauncey’s toenails tick-ticking elatedly on the hardwood floor, they followed Jesse to the kitchen, where Rose was just finishing up the dinner dishes.

  Out here, it was a little quieter. “Hey, guys,” Rose said. “Coffee, tea, beer?”

  “Coffee,” Rob said. “Times two. Decaf, if you have it. We have to be up early tomorrow.”

  “Coming right up.” Rob’s sister was a striking woman, with the MacKenzie green eyes, an angular face that was just this side of pretty, and wild, curly hair like her brother’s, except that hers tumbled down her back in a fiery red tangle that was a perfect match for her personality.

  “So,” she said, taking mugs from the cupboard and setting them on the countertop. “Do you two have some kind of—” She glanced meaningfully at Casey’s flat stomach. “—exciting news?”

  “We have news,” Rob said, “but not that kind of news. At least, not exactly.”

  Rose looked puzzled by his statement as she made instant decaf and carried two mugs to the kitchen table where Casey and Rob had settled side by side on wooden dining chairs.

  Setting the mugs in front of them, she said, “So what’s up?”

  Rob said, “You might want to sit down for this.”

  “Whoa.” Rose shared a quick glance with her husband before dropping onto a chair at one end of the long dining table. “What’s going on?”

  Rob took a breath. Beneath the table, Casey squeezed his hand. He said, “I just found out this afternoon that I have a fifteen-year-old daughter.”

  Nobody spoke. He exhaled, and Casey squeezed his hand again. “Her mother died two weeks ago, and I’m taking custody of her. Her name is Paige. Casey and I are driving down to Boston tomorrow to pick her up, and—what the hell, Rose? Why aren’t you looking even remotely surprised by any of this?”

  All eyes fell on Rose, who squirmed uncomfortably before getting up and making her way to the refrigerator. From behind the open door, she said brightly, “Does anybody want coffee cake? I’m sure we have one in here somewhere—”

  “You knew,” Rob said in a stunned voice. Casey rested a restraining hand on his arm, but it was too late. He vaulted to his feet and stalked across the room. Slammed the refrigerator door shut with so much force that his sister jumped out of the way to keep from being decapitated. “You fucking knew, and you never told me!”

  “Back off, little brother, or I swear to God I’ll—”

  “Like hell I’ll back off! How could you know something like this and not tell me? How long have you known?”

  “If you can’t be civil, I’m not saying a damn thing!”

  “Civil, my ass! How long, Rose?” He advanced on her, inching forward until they were nearly nose to nose. “How goddamn long have you known?”

  His sister held her ground, not in the least intimidated by him, probably because she was eight minutes older than he was, and they’d been squabbling like this since the womb. She squared her shoulders and her jaw and said, “Six years.”

  “Six years? SIX FUCKING YEARS you knew this, and you couldn’t bother to tell me? What the hell is wrong with you? How do you even know about this?”

  “Stop yelling at me, Robbie, or I’ll toss you out on your ass!”

  “I’ll stop yelling when I’m damn good and ready. How’d you find out?”

  Rose glanced at Casey, then back at her brother. She raised her chin and said, “Mom told me.”

  Casey winced and closed her eyes. Worst possible answer. Across the room, Rob said in disbelief, “Mom knows about this? How is that possible?”

  “She ran into Sandy in the grocery store six years ago. Sandy had the kid with her. Mom took one look—”

  “The kid has a name. It’s Paige. I’d appreciate you remembering!”

  “Mom took one look at Paige—” Rose over-emphasized the word, glaring at her brother. “—and almost had a heart attack. She’s the spitting image of you, right down to the green eyes. But before Mom could ask any questions, Sandy beat feet. So she called Meg—”

  “Meg knows, too? Jesus, Mary and Joseph!”

  “—for confirmation. She knew Meg and Sandy were always tight. And Meg said that yes, the kid was yours, but Sandy had begged her not to tell you. So Mom called me to ask what I thought she should do.”

  “I don’t believe this.” He began pacing like a caged tiger before rounding on her again. “Who else knows? Does the whole family know? Does Mo Branigan down at the corner store know? Do Father McMurphy and my fourth-grade teacher know? Is there anybody from Southie who doesn’t know? Besides me, of course.” He paused to run trembling fingers through his hair. And said in an odd, strangled voice, “Does Dad know?”

  “We decided not to tell Dad.”

  “That was really big of you!”

  “Damn it,” she shouted, “stop yelling at me!”

  “Why?” he shouted. “Why would you keep this from me?”

  “Sandy made Meg swear not to tell, and we couldn’t—”

  “So you did this to keep Sandy happy? Whatever happened to blood being thicker than water?”

  “Your life was a mess!” she shouted. “A total flipping mess! You were on the road all the time, living out of a suitcase, traveling from gig to gig, flying to London, and Tokyo, and Sydney. There was no stability. No house, no wife, not even a serious girlfriend. Just an apartment you hardly spent any time in, and dozens of interchangeable women. You’d been divorced twice, and you weren’t showing any signs you’d ever settle down and start acting like an adult. We decided it would be better for both of you if you didn’t know about the ki—about Paige.”

  “So you just made that decision f
or me, arbitrarily? You and Mom and Meg, without knowing anything about my life, without even considering my feelings, just decided it would be best to keep this from me, for my own good? Well, thank you very much!”

  “Mom almost told you a few years ago. When you and Casey were living together in Boston, and—” Rose paused, glanced at Casey, then back at her brother. “We were all so sure the two of you would end up together—but then Casey got back together with Danny, and you were a basket case, and we decided it would be better if we didn’t say anything.”

  “Wait a minute,” Casey said. “What do you mean, he was a basket case?”

  “Never mind!” Rob snapped.

  “When you and Danny got back together,” Rose told her, “my little brother fell apart for a while. He was in pretty bad shape.”

  “Shut up, Rose! Stay the hell out of what’s none of your business!”

  “I’ll shut up when I damn well please! Maybe it’s time she heard this! Maybe it’s time she found out just what she did to you when she dumped you for—”

  “SHUT. THE. HELL. UP!”

  “Oh, for the love of God,” Casey said, getting up from her chair and marching across the room to stand between them like a referee at a boxing match. “To your corners, people! You’re both acting like four-year-olds. Rose, just for the record, I didn’t dump your brother. We were not a couple back then. He was sleeping in my guest room. As for you—” She met her husband’s eyes. “Sit. Now!”

  He sat. And buried his face in his trembling hands. “Jess,” she said, “do you have any hard liquor in the house?”

  “There’s a bottle of Jim Beam in the den.”

  “I think my husband could use a drink. Just a shot, to calm his nerves. He’s had a rough day. This was shocking news, and I believe we’re experiencing a little delayed reaction.”

  Rob said, “I don’t need to be treated like a—”

  “Shut up,” she said firmly but gently, kneeling on the floor in front of him. “For once in your life, let me take care of you. God knows, you’ve done it enough times for me.”