Unforgettable Page 13

  “Hi fellas,” Eva said.

  There were Hi Eva’s all around.

  Derrick rose from the chair with a frown on his face. “Sweetheart, what did I tell you about coming down those steep stairs in your condition? I don’t want you hurting yourself or endangering my son.”

  “We are just fine.” Eva emphasized the point by placing a hand on her protruding midsection. “Stop worrying.”

  “I’m having an intercom installed next week,” he said.

  “I told you no, this is your space and I don’t need you to make it easier for me to reach you when you’re down here.”

  Derrick didn’t respond, and everyone in the room knew she’d already lost the argument even though he hadn’t said a word.

  “Fine,” she said with a sigh. “I came down here because Violet’s being fussy and wants her daddy to put her to bed.”

  “Night-night, Daddy.” Violet stretched up her arms and Derrick lifted her up.

  “You giving Mommy a hard time the way she does me?” he murmured.

  “Don’t tell her that,” Eva said.

  Violet wound her short arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. She murmured something unintelligible and he kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll be back in a few, guys. I’m going to put Violet down and get my hard-headed wife safely back upstairs.”

  “See how he treats me,” Eva said to them, though she didn’t look the least bit upset. The look on her face was more the contented look of a woman who knew, without a doubt, she was loved and adored. “Bye, guys.” She waved and they all said good-bye to her.

  Before the door completely closed behind them, Lucas could hear them fussing at each other as they climbed the stairs.

  He twirled the bottle of beer on the table top. His friends had families to love and take care of. He’d seen the changes over the years as he got older. Friend after friend getting married. Some insisted they missed their bachelorhood, but others, like these guys, were different. They actually seemed happier with their wives. Even when they complained, he doubted they would want their lives any other way. They all belonged to a special club of husbands and fathers, and like pigs in slop, they were disgustingly fulfilled and content.

  He’d steeled himself against wanting what they had, even insisted he was better off alone, but now a little part of him wanted this life. The craziness of chasing after a child, the annoyance of having a hard-headed wife who wouldn’t listen, the stress of wanting the best for your family, and the need to love and be loved—unconditionally, even in the midst of screw-ups.

  He swallowed against the tightness in his throat and gulped some of his beer.

  He wanted all the good and the bad, the laughter, the tears—all of it—everything that came with finally having a family of his own.

  As if conjured by his thoughts, the phone rang and the screen displayed Ivy’s number. He answered right away.

  “Hello. Umm…this is Katie.”

  Her soft, hesitant voice sent a tinge of worry to the back of his neck.

  He stood and walked across the room for privacy and to get away from the robust conversation that had resumed between Antonio, Roarke, and Matthew.

  “What’s wrong, Katie?”

  “I was wondering…”

  In the background, he heard Ivy’s voice. “Go ahead,” she coached.

  “Umm…I need a date for the father and daughter dance coming up at school, and I was wondering if…if you could come with me. It’s short notice, and I know you’re very far away, and if you can’t, Uncle Cyrus said he’d take me.”

  He let out the breath he’d been holding and smiled in relief. For a minute he’d thought something serious had happened. “I can do that.”

  “You will?” Her voice contained elements of surprise and happiness.

  “Of course I will. We’re father and daughter, aren’t we?”

  “Yes,” she said shyly, but the pleased sound of her voice suggested she was smiling.

  “When is it?”

  She told him which day in December the dance would take place. The date was oddly familiar, but he’d check his calendar once he ended the call with Katie. Before they hung up he assured her again that he would be there and she had nothing to worry about, and he meant it. As much as he could, he would be there—wherever and whenever she needed him—from here on out.

  No other man was going to take his place again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The reason the date for the father and daughter dance had seemed so familiar was because it happened to take place the day before the wedding Lucas had promised to escort Priscilla to.

  “We’ve been planning this for months.” Priscilla stared at him in disbelief across the table. They sat in one of her favorite restaurants—an upscale soul food joint on the north side of town. He’d chosen it to soften the blow of canceling his plans with her. “You promised me you’d come.” She couldn’t comprehend how he could cancel on her, and he couldn’t comprehend how she couldn’t understand how important the dance was for him and his daughter.

  “Katie needs me,” he said, keeping his voice calm so he wouldn’t set her off. “Right now, she’s my priority.”

  “Attend the dance, and just come back the next day to make the wedding with me.”

  “If I go up there, I might as well stay for the weekend. I’m trying to get to know her.”

  Priscilla tossed the cloth napkin onto the tabletop. “Katie, or her mother?”

  He leveled a stare at her across the table, noting how her lips had compressed into a thin line. “Don’t start that again.”

  She seemed to think Katie wasn’t the only reason he called Seattle. He couldn’t deny hearing Ivy’s voice was nice, but that wasn’t why he called up there. Besides, ever since she’d overheard Priscilla talking to him, Ivy hadn’t been as friendly. Polite, but not friendly.

  “I can’t avoid her mother.”

  “Of course not. But I can’t help but wonder if the late night phone calls don’t have something to do with your rich baby mama.”

  Lucas cringed. He really hated that phrase. “This isn’t about Ivy. This is about me and you,” he reminded her.

  “I’m competing against Katie and Ivy.”

  “This isn’t a competition.”

  “No?” Priscilla folded her arms across her chest. Despite her angry posture, he saw sadness in her eyes.

  “No,” Lucas insisted.

  Her bottom lip quivered. “You don’t even see me, do you?”

  “Of course I see you. I know exactly who you are, darlin’.”

  “Don’t darlin’ me!” she snapped. “You don’t see me.” She swallowed. “This is going to be a regular thing, isn’t it, where your family comes first?”

  “My daughter,” he corrected.

  “You never even wanted children, and now all of a sudden you’re running for father of the goddamn year,” Priscilla said bitterly. The expletive surprised Lucas. She had to be very upset because she seldom cursed.

  “Do you want me to pretend she doesn’t exist? Would you respect a man like that—one who didn’t take care of his responsibilities?”

  She looked away for a few seconds before bringing her gaze to meet his again. “Should I respect a man who doesn’t keep his word?”

  Now she was really pissing him off, but he held his displeasure at bay. “I’ll make it up to you.”

  “How? You’re going to pay my rent again? Or maybe buy me a new car?”

  “If that’s what you want—”

  “No, that’s not what I want,” she hissed, her eyes darting around to make sure no one in the restaurant overhead her. “How can you be so dense?”

  Lucas calmly set his napkin on the table and searched for the right words. “Priscilla, I never—”

  “I know. Don’t you think I know that you never promised me anything? No marriage, no kids. You’ve made it very clear from the beginning.” She’d accepted that he didn’t want kids and had
even said she could live without marriage, all to please him.

  “That’s not what I was about to say.”

  “Yet I’m still here, hanging out, waiting, wondering if you’ll ever change. God, I’m an idiot.” She sounded weary all of sudden.

  “She’s my daughter. I have eight years to make up for.”

  Priscilla laughed and took a huge swallow of her mint julep, draining the contents. She set the empty glass on the table. “Well, I guess eight years trumps five, right?” This was the most confrontational Priscilla had ever been. He’d never heard her use this tone of voice before.

  “I’ll make it up to you,” Lucas said again.

  “Yes, I know. You always do.” A sad smile flitted across her face.

  Lucas took a good look at Priscilla and wondered why she continued to put up with him. Why was it, no matter how many times they broke up, she kept coming back? And why couldn’t he give her the permanent place in his life she so obviously wanted?

  “Maybe we could go car shopping before you leave,” Priscilla said. “I’ve had my eye on a Lexus hybrid. I think this time around I’d like to get a car that’s a little better for the environment.”

  She signaled to the waiter and when he arrived at the table, she ordered another mint julep. The rest of the meal they discussed cars, and she gradually returned to her normal, non-confrontational self, as if nothing had happened.

  But the tranquility didn’t last.

  Back at his condo, Lucas went into his home office to see if Brenda had left him a message about an upcoming project. Tension still existed between him and Priscilla, and he needed a break from pretending nothing was wrong. While he listened to a message from the freelance editor he worked with on his blog posts, a faint thumping sound came to him from somewhere in the condo. He went out to the living room in time to see Priscilla drop a suitcase at the front door.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m leaving. What does it look like?”

  She went back into the bedroom and he followed. They’d been down this road before, but she’d never left him this soon after coming back. He stared as she dumped clothes and shoes into a black trash bag and slammed the dresser drawer shut. He hadn’t even known she had enough stuff there to fill a suitcase and a large trash bag. Like she’d said at dinner, she was there, but he didn’t really see her.

  “I can’t do this anymore,” Priscilla said, scooping her lotions and perfume off the dresser with a swipe of her hand. They landed in the bag on the floor. “Everything and everyone is always more important than me. One day you’re traveling,” she said, marching over to the closet and yanking down a few dresses, pulling the hangers with them. “Another time you’ve got an important event you can’t cancel.”

  Her comments rubbed him the wrong way. “My work is important. You know that.”

  “Then your mother was sick,” she continued, stuffing the dresses into the same bag. She lifted her head, breathing heavily. “You never put me first. Never.”

  She tied the top of the trash bag into a knot. “You need to decide what you want. I’m giving you another chance, but I’m leaving you and this time for good.” She stood still long enough to shoot him a look of defiance that still managed to look pleading. “Do you want to be with me or not? I’m not getting any younger.”

  “’Cilla, listen to me—”

  “Answer the question!”

  Lucas fell silent. He didn’t know what to say. He could give her the answer she wanted to hear, but then he’d be a liar.

  She shook her head in disgust. At herself, at him, he wasn’t sure. Her lower lip trembled and her eyes took on a shiny quality as they filled with tears. “That’s my answer, isn’t it?”

  She grabbed the trash bag and walked out to the living room. He followed, still unable to find the right words. He made his living using words, but right now he couldn’t think of a single thing to say to make the unfolding situation any less contentious.

  “’Cilla, you don’t have to leave. Stay and let’s talk.”

  At the front door, she turned around. “My mother warned me. She said after two years, a man knows whether or not he wants to marry you, and if he’s not talking about a future with you by then, it’s time to move on.” Priscilla swiped a tear that spilled onto her cheek. She sniffed. “She even told me I was foolish to stick around when you made it clear you didn’t want children, even though I do. And when I told her you weren’t interested in getting married, but I felt pretty sure you would change your mind, she went ballistic. ‘When a man tells you the truth, believe him,’ she said. And I still waited for you to change your mind. But you haven’t. Five years of my life is enough, don’t you think?”

  She flung open the door and grabbed her suitcase. Instinctively he moved to assist her, but she swung around before stepping over the threshold. “In your book you said ‘When a man wants you, make no mistake, he’ll do whatever he can to hold onto you. He won’t let you walk out that door, and if he does, trust he’ll be right behind you.’ You never once came after me, Lucas.” Her voice cracked at the end.

  This was obviously painful for her, but it was painful for him to watch, too, knowing he caused the hurt in her eyes. They’d been in a relationship for years based on his terms and his comfort level. He gave her material possessions, and in exchange she never pressured him for a commitment.

  “Did you ever love me?” she asked. The question was one last plea, and he wanted to give her the answer she longed to hear, but he couldn’t say the words if he didn’t mean them, so he tried to find words that were the truth without deepening the embarrassment for her. Unfortunately, he took too long to respond. “Fuck you, Lucas. I hope you die a miserable, lonely old man,” she said, and then she stormed out.

  She struggled down the hallway with the suitcase and dragged the plastic bag behind her. He would have offered to help but knew his offer wouldn’t be welcomed.

  Lucas closed and locked the door. In a daze, he sank on to the sofa. He looked around at his place, his bachelor pad for years. A one-bedroom oasis from his crazy travel schedule and the women who came in and out of his life. He’d let Priscilla get closer than most, but was it because she was special, or because she kept coming back? With her, he’d never had to change, so he hadn’t.

  But she’d left him. The level of anger and pain in her face was different this time. She wasn’t ever coming back again.

  Chapter Twenty

  When Lucas arrived at Ivy’s to pick up Katie for the dance, his daughter stared up at him with such elation in her eyes his heart swelled. He could get accustomed to that look, as if he was some kind of prize.

  “How are you?” he asked, bending to give her a bear hug. She smelled like strawberries, probably from the pink lip gloss.

  “I’m fine. Mommy hired a photographer to take pictures of us.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him deeper into the condo.

  Sure enough, Ivy and a photographer waited in the living room.

  Ivy had made a big deal about the dance. In addition to sending their daughter to the hotel spa to get a mani-pedi with clear nail polish, she’d hired a stylist and hairdresser to get her ready. Katie’s hair was styled in long ringlets, and her fuchsia headband matched the fuchsia dress she wore with its sparkling bodice and full skirt.

  “Are you guys ready?” Ivy asked. “This is Katie’s first date, so we have to take lots of photos.”

  “Wait a minute.” Lucas removed the corsage from the box he’d brought in and attached the white petals to his daughter’s narrow wrist.

  “Pretty,” Katie said.

  Lucas straightened his black jacket and tie. “Now we’re ready.”

  The photographer took photos of them standing next to each other and more with him crouched beside her, each with an arm around the other. Eventually they said their good-byes, and Lucas noted the wetness in Ivy’s eyes but didn’t comment.

  He made a big production of opening doors for his daug
hter and made sure she was comfortable. He wanted to show her how she should be treated, so when she was older—much, much older—she’d already know what she deserved when some knuckleheaded boy stepped to her and wasn’t about much.

  Most of the attendees at the dance were parents or male figures, but a few mothers showed up, having escorted their daughters because a male family member wasn’t available. If anyone thought it odd that Katie introduced him as her father, they never said, but their confused expressions spoke volumes. No one questioned him or his right to be there or even how she came to have another father.

  His introduction made him realize that she still said father. Not “this is my dad” or “this is my daddy.” Father sounded more detached to his ears, and he took that to mean he still had work to do. But he was willing to put in the time and effort.

  He watched his daughter whisper and giggle with her friends, occasionally looking back to make sure he was still there. They danced to a variety of music and the professional photographer on hand took additional photos. His favorite was when he crouched beside the chair she sat in and she put her arms around his neck as if she would never let him go. She then gave him a big kiss, which the photographer manage to snap at the right moment.

  The dance lasted a couple of hours, but as far as he was concerned, it ended too quickly. It was the most fun he’d had in a long time, which was strange. Who would have thought hanging out at a kid’s dance would be considered a fun night out? He’d spent so much time drinking and bedding women over the years, he’d forgotten there were other equally satisfying ways to have a good time.

  At the end of the night, they trickled out the doors with the rest of the attendees, and the driver pulled up to take them back to the condo. Katie, her stomach filled with punch, cake, and some amazingly good hors d’oeuvres Lucas couldn’t believe they’d served to children, was fast asleep by the time they arrived at the hotel.

  ****

  Lucas showed up with Katie in his arms, and after putting her to bed, Ivy returned to the living room to get a play by play of the evening. “How was it?” she asked.