A Hickory Ridge Christmas (6 page)

Because her eyes were burning as she opened them, she didn't turn back to Todd but trudged to the main church entrance. Footsteps crunched behind her.

Reverend Bob met her at the door.

“Hannah, you're looking lovely.” He bent to drop a kiss on top of her hat-covered head. “I trust that Rebecca is doing well.”

You saw her yourself at Wednesday prayer meeting,
Hannah was tempted to point out, but she doubted it would do anything to make this conversation more comfortable. Why didn't he just forget all the niceties and get on with the interrogation?

As Todd came in the door behind her, Reverend Bob greeted him with a handshake. “Todd, it's good to see you again. I hope you're settling in well at the Proving Grounds.”

“You know how new jobs go, Reverend. The learning curve is pretty steep right now, but hopefully I'll get to the bend before long.”

Bob laughed at his comment as he pulled the glass door behind Todd into place and turned the lock. “Are you at least getting to take the new prototype cars for a spin on the test track?”

“I might eventually, but I haven't yet. As a test engineer, most of my work is using a computer to
monitor data about things like temperature and voltage as the vehicle is operated under various conditions.”

“Well I hope you get to test-drive one eventually.” Hannah's father patted Todd on the shoulder of his heavy coat—just a mutual admiration society. She'd stepped outside of reality, Hannah decided. Whatever happened to her father toting a shotgun or whatever dads did to defend their daughters' honor?

Finally, Hannah had had enough. “Dad, what are we all doing here?”

The minister turned back to her, his expression carefully blank. “Todd thought the two of you might have some things to talk about.”

Hannah shot a venomous look at Todd. “Command appearance, huh?”

“Your father set the time and the place.”

“I guess it wasn't enough that you hired Harold Lasbury—my boss—as your new accountant on Friday when there are three CPA offices in Milford. Then you moved your membership to Hickory Ridge on Sunday, made an appearance at Faith Singles United on Tuesday and attended Wednesday prayer meeting last night.”

Todd shrugged without remorse. “Guess not.”

“I can't imagine what would have been enough.”

Todd had even asked Harold if Hannah could personally handle his tax return, and he'd managed to somehow be at Breen's IGA the night she stopped in for milk, eggs and that popping rice cereal Rebecca loved so much.

It was as if he'd been watching her every move,
waiting for a chance to pounce, and now he'd made her father an accomplice in his plans to get under her skin. Well, he was there, and his presence itched.

“By the way,” he asked, “don't you ever go to the post office or the video store or the library?”

He met her frown with an amused expression that had her hands fisted at her sides.

“How dare you follow me! You're stalking me! What right do you have to invade my life like that?”

Todd stretched up and towered over her. “What right do you have to keep me away from my daughter?”

Hannah's retort died on her lips at Todd's announcement, and she turned wide-eyed to face her father. Reverend Bob didn't wear the compassionate minister's expression she'd come to expect from him. His was the face of a furious father.

“Enough,” he said in an even voice but with enough finality to strike silence on the other two people in the room. “I need to see both of you in my office immediately.”

W
ithout another word, Reverend Bob turned and strode to the stairway leading to his second-floor office. The look Todd captured her with had to be as cold as the one Hannah had trained on him, but both looked away quickly and headed in the direction the minister had taken.

When they reached his office, Hannah's father was already seated in his executive chair. He gestured to the pair of chairs opposite his desk. Never before this moment had Hannah felt her father's disappointment in such a profound way, even on that awful day when she'd had to air her humiliation in front of the whole Deacons' board.

“Dad, I'm so sorry—” Hannah began as she stiffly lowered into the chair, but her father raised his hand to stop her.

“I'm sure there's a lot of blame and guilt and
apologies to go around.” He first trapped Todd and then Hannah in his direct gaze.

Hannah stiffened but couldn't look away from her father. Would his disappointment spoken aloud be worse than his silent displeasure? Without looking at Todd, she sensed that he sat as straight as she did, his hands gripping the chair's arms.

“But that's not why the three of us are together tonight, is it?” He paused, crossing his arms over his chest. “We're here because of your daughter, and Rebecca deserves better than this.”

Hannah opened her mouth to say something, anything, but the words wouldn't come. The thoughts wouldn't even come. She hated it that Todd found his voice first.

“I know you're right, but—”

“Todd.” Reverend Bob's voice held the warning of a man—even a man of God—whose patience had worn thin. “Both of you have had plenty of chances to talk. Now it's time for you to listen.”

With a curt nod, Todd sat back in the chair and rested his hands in his lap. Hannah settled back, as well, trying her best to relax when her thoughts and pulse were racing at competing speeds.

“You two are behaving like children, especially you, Hannah.” He paused to focus pointedly on his daughter, making her squirm. “You are children no longer.”

She straightened in her seat again, glancing sidelong at Todd. He sat stiffly, but he nodded, his Adam's apple shifting. Was this the uncomfortable way he would have looked if he and Hannah had
faced her father together when she first learned of her pregnancy? She suspected the discomfort would have been the same, but she would never know how that confrontation might have gone or where the four of them might have been today.

“Selfishness is a privilege of youth,” Bob began again, as if he was gearing up for one of his best sermons. But a small smile appeared where his tight expression had rested. “You two lost that privilege when you made a child together. God has entrusted Rebecca into your care, and your daughter's needs must always come first.”

Hannah couldn't help shaking her head. “But Dad, I do put Rebecca first. She's everything to me.”

“I know you love your daughter. I see that every day. But in this instance, you've been very selfish. This child needs a father. You know how she longs for someone to fill that role in her life.”

Her breath hitched because she did know. Her sitter, Mary Nelson, occasionally repeated parts of conversations she'd overheard between Rebecca and Max Williams, who'd lost his father to an accident and then found a great stepfather in Brett Lancaster. Rebecca had been asking questions about her father long before she'd overheard Todd and Grant batting around her paternity like a weapon.

Since that horrible night, Rebecca had been asking even more difficult questions: “Why don't some daddies live with their kids?” and “Why are some mommies and daddies mad at each other?” How could Hannah explain anything to her daughter
when her thoughts were muddy waters that refused to clear?

Because she didn't answer, Reverend Bob continued. “Unlike some unfortunate unwed mothers, you have a young man who is interested in, even adamant about, taking responsibility for his child. No matter what your feelings are regarding Todd, you must put them aside and allow Rebecca to have a relationship with her father.”

The minister stopped then, as if he'd said his piece. Hannah let her gaze fall to her gripped hands. He was right, of course, but that didn't make it any easier to accept.

After five years of fighting for every miniscule amount of self-sufficiency, it wouldn't be easy to hand over part of the responsibility for Rebecca's care to anyone, let alone Todd. At the thought of him, Hannah couldn't help glancing his way. Todd had his gaze trained on her, a tight expression on his lips.

“And you, Todd.”

At the sound of Reverend Bob's voice, both turned back to face him.

“You could have approached this situation with a lot more maturity, as well.”

Todd sat forward in his chair and gripped the edge of the desk. “Now wait a minute. I tried everything—”

“Should everything have included the post office, video store and the library?” he asked, repeating Todd's own admission that he'd staked out those places.

“I suppose not.”

“You suppose then that following my daughter everywhere she went wasn't the best idea?”

The side of Hannah's mouth pulled up at the sight of Todd facing her father's questions. It was just like Reverend Bob to call each of them out on the carpet by turns.

“No, not the best,” Todd said, shaking his head. “But I was desperate. Five years of planning, of taking the right classes, of imagining apologies, of predicting possible outcomes and of praying, just so I could come back to…here.”

Hannah blinked. It wasn't so much what he'd said, although the words he'd spoken aloud were shocking enough. But what she suspected he'd almost said was even more disquieting.
Her.
He'd done all those things, not to come back
here
but to
her.
Even though it was much too late to consider “what might have beens,” she couldn't help feeling a begrudging respect for his effort. When she glanced up at her father, she caught him studying her. Had Dad read the confusion, or, worse yet, the respect, in her expression?

Without commenting on anything he'd seen, Reverend Bob turned back to Todd.

“You could have contacted me sooner.” He waited for Todd's nod before he added, “Just as you could have come to me five years ago, when my daughter first locked you out of her life…and your daughter's life.”

“You knew!” Hannah's question came out as a shriek, and she didn't even care. She stared at him,
incredulous that her father could have kept a secret like that. Better, obviously, than she'd kept hers.

“I would tell you that fathers aren't as oblivious as you think, but I have to admit the hints were hard to miss,” he said, as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “First, your best friend moved across the globe, and you didn't hear from him. Ever. Then you started rushing to beat me to the mailbox, even when your morning sickness was so bad you could barely get out of bed.

“And finally, I picked up my bedroom extension and heard a familiar voice and the sound of you hanging up the phone on him. I didn't even need to see Rebecca to confirm what I already knew.”

“But you never said anything,” Hannah said.

“What was I supposed to say?”

Todd looked back and forth between the two of them, amazed that both could so easily miss the point. “Oh, I don't know. Perhaps you could have insisted that she tell the baby's father, or at the very least you could have told me yourself.”

He still couldn't get over the fact that Reverend Bob had known all along. No wonder he hadn't gone ballistic when Todd, finally desperate after trying everything else, had gone to him, confessed that he was Rebecca's father and begged for help in reaching Hannah.

“I was waiting.”

“For what? Rebecca's high school graduation?” Todd's voice grew louder with each word, but he couldn't seem to be able to contain his anger. Bob,
Andrew, Serena—everyone, it seemed—knew but him, and no one had bothered to give him a simple heads-up.

The noise Reverend Bob made sounded like a chuckle, but his expression held no mirth.

“I deserve that. But I was waiting until I wasn't so angry anymore. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't be neutral in this situation. I'm Hannah's father. I was furious. It was hard to feel any obligation to the young man who stole my daughter's innocence and her childhood.”

Todd gripped the side of the desk as old guilt reemerged from beneath the surface of his anger. “That wasn't fair.”

“I never said it was, but it was human.” Reverend Bob leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms again. “Don't get me wrong. I wasn't blaming you alone, Todd. If I remember correctly from my marriage, sexual intimacy requires two partners.”

The skin on the back of Todd's neck suddenly became hot. Were they really discussing such private matters with Hannah sitting next to them? In his peripheral vision, he could see her shifting in her seat.

Reverend Bob waved his hand as if to brush away that topic as water under the bridge. “But the reason I didn't tell you was more than my anger about sin and the consequences it had on my daughter's life or even on behalf of my grandchild, who wouldn't know the security of a loving two-parent family. I was waiting for one of you to take responsibility.”

“You've got to be kidding, Dad.” This time
Hannah came out of her seat and paced toward the window, where the cloudy night sky stretched in endless blackness, striped with gray. When she turned back to them, her hands were fisted at her sides, but her eyes appeared damp.

“For five years, I've done nothing
but
take responsibility. I've diapered and burped and laundered and skipped sleep to study so I could support my family. I've earned a bachelor's degree in less than four years and have begun my one-year apprenticeship period in public accounting so I can take the CPA exam.”

Reverend Bob studied his steepled hands before he met her gaze and spoke again. “Hannah dear, if you had owned up to
all
of your responsibilities, then we wouldn't be having this conversation right now.”

Her shoulders drooping, Hannah returned to her chair and slumped into it. She pressed her lips together as if she wanted to say more, but she wisely held back. It wasn't an argument she could win, anyway, just as Todd could no longer continue to play the victim. He could have done just as the minister had suggested, moving past his fear and embarrassment over their sin and asking her father to intercede for him with Hannah. His cowardice had cost him more than he'd even known.

When father and daughter continued to eye each other in a silent standoff, Todd couldn't help but to speak up. “I'm sorry it took so long.” At Hannah's surprised expression, he continued, “Sorry for both of us. And for all of us.”

For several long seconds, she said nothing, but
then she nodded almost imperceptibly, the tiniest motion for what had to feel like a huge act of surrender. Hope, as fragile as a seedling sinking its roots in sandy soil, threatened to find a place in Todd's heart, but he was careful to contain it. He could hope for a relationship with his child and nothing more.

Reverend Bob brushed his hands together to suggest the matter was settled.

“Now that we're all on the same page, let's discuss a few things about Rebecca.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk. “As Todd mentioned when he came to me, he would like to establish paternity through the courts so he can set up a plan to pay child support. If I'm correct that will mean submitting to a paternity test. Hannah, will you allow Rebecca to be tested?”

“Yes.”

The minister nodded at her softly spoken answer and turned back to Todd. “After paternity is determined, you'll be able to set up a regular visitation schedule. I would like to recommend, though, that the two of you work out a temporary schedule right away.”

Todd watched Hannah, dreading the moment when she would object. They'd come so far, and he hated to see all that progress wiped away because they were moving too quickly. He couldn't help backpedaling. “Well, maybe not right away, but—”

“No,” Hannah said to stop him. “That's fine.”

“Good.” Reverend Bob opened his desk drawer and withdrew a pad of white paper and a pen. “Rebecca already knows Todd is her father, and she's
very curious about him. I think it's time for the two of them to really get to know each other.”

The tightening around his heart surprised Todd. With all of the opposition Hannah had given him, he had focused on the battle rather than just how important it had become to him to have a chance to be with his daughter. Gratitude filled him that he would receive his most precious gift weeks before Christmas.

He opened his mouth to thank the minister, but Hannah spoke first.

“I agree.” She paused as if the next words came hard for her. “She needs to know her father.”

 

Reverend Bob watched from his upstairs office window as his daughter and the young man who had broken her heart entered their cars and turned on the engines. Hannah and Todd might have agreed to a truce for their child's sake, but they hadn't made any grand gestures of civility as they left the building.

What had he expected, that they would shake hands and be talking again in “friendspeak”—that combination of half-finished sentences and inside jokes that had marked their friendship in their teens? As a minister, he'd been in the heart-healing business too long to believe in Pollyanna thoughts like that. Healing took time, work and a whole lot of conversations with God.

As the cars backed out of the parking places, Bob's chest tightened. He pressed his fingers into the achy place and then moved his hands to rub his
temples. His body seemed to be telling him he'd just made a big mistake in getting involved in the situation between Todd and Hannah. His mind had announced the same thing the minute he'd agreed to participate with Todd in this intervention.