Find My Way Home (Harmony Homecomings) (17 page)

Keith stopped his car in Bertie’s driveway. He had no reason to go home to his vacuous, dusty house. Besides, he wanted to see Maddie. To make sure she was okay. Make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, like her toothbrush. To assure himself that she knew the rules: no smoking, drinking, drugs, or boys. He’d give her a quick kiss before heading home. That wouldn’t be out of line. Fuck it. He didn’t need a reason to see his daughter. Keith slammed his car door and stomped up the front steps.

Light poured through the slitted blinds from the front window and Keith could hear music. He knocked on the front door. Nothing but loud music. He knocked again with a little more force. The music blared even louder. He gritted his teeth and pounded on the red-painted door with his fist. Still nothing. Keith grabbed the wrought-iron knob and gave it a violent twist. The door opened and Keith rushed in. What he saw made his blood run cold.

In the middle of the living room, Bertie and Maddie gyrated to some video booming from the TV, using wooden kitchen spoons as microphones and wearing skimpy outfits that would make the hookers on Biscayne Boulevard salivate with envy. Keith blinked and shook his head, hoping that his worst nightmare had not become a reality. Maddie and Bertie had their backs to him as they belted the words to some bad pop song. Keith watched in frozen horror as they rolled their shoulders, shuffled their feet, and thrust their pelvises. Unaware of his presence, Bertie gave a quick hip-hop twirl and stopped short. Maddie followed but ended up bumping into Bertie’s back. Bertie’s face flamed as red as the dress she wore as she scrambled for the remote on the coffee table and punched the off button.

Steam poured from Keith’s ears as if his head might explode. “What in the hell is going on here?” he roared between clenched teeth.

“Dad! What are you doing here?” Maddie had the nerve to glare at him, as if he had no business checking up on her. Keith sharpened his gaze on her. His mouth began to work but no sound came out. His precious, adorable daughter wore some gauzy, black sheer blouse over a highly visible silver, slinky tank top. Slinky tank top with black short skirt and silver stilettos that belonged on a Victoria’s Secret model or Adriana,
not
his innocent daughter.

Bertie jumped in front of Maddie, blocking his view. “Uh, hey there. What brings you here? I thought you were on a date…er, uh, appointment.”

Maddie pushed her way around Bertie. “
Daaad!
I can’t believe this. Are you spying on me?” She stood with her fists pressed into her small hips, accentuating the fact that she still had a little girl’s figure. No hips and no waist. Perfection. The way it should be.

“What’s with the makeup and hooker outfits?” Keith gestured at their getups, still not believing his eyes. “What happened to watching Disney movies and eating popcorn?”

“Dad! I don’t watch Disney movies anymore. They’re for babies. I told you we were going to dress up. Besides, you’re not supposed to be here!” Maddie stomped her sparkly stiletto-clad foot, jerking Keith out of his initial shock and careening him into anger.

“Don’t ever you use that tone with me, do you understand?” Keith took a huge step into the nest of iniquity disguised as Bertie’s living room and shook his finger at Maddie.

“B-b-but, Dad. Bertie and I were just having some fun. You ruin everything,” Maddie said on a sniffle as tears pooled in her eyes.

Bertie placed her hands on Maddie’s shoulders. “Uh, Maddie, honey, your dad—”

“This is
my
daughter. Stay out of it. You’ve done enough,” he growled.

Distress registered on Bertie’s face as she took a step back. Maddie’s wet gaze darted from him to Bertie. “Madeline, get your things. We’re leaving,” he ordered using his scary low voice.

“Nooo! I don’t want to leave.” Maddie sounded close to hysterics. “You leave!”

Bertie gasped as Keith made a threatening step toward Maddie. “Madeline Amber Morgan, go to your room,
right
now
!” he roared.

“I hate you!” Maddie rushed from the room sobbing.

The blast of a cannonball could not have left a bigger hole as Keith rubbed his chest with his fist. His daughter had never spoken to him like that…ever. The sound of her crying carried through the empty stairwell she’d flown up.

“Keith, I…” Stunned, he tore his gaze from the stairwell and swiveled toward Bertie. “I’m so sorry. She wanted to dance…”

Fear, frustration, and terror bombarded him, making him shake inside. He’d left his naïve ten-year-old daughter only a few short hours ago and returned to find a raging, hormonal teenager inhabiting her body. He’d barely recognized her. It was like watching the movie
Alien
all over again. Except worse.

Then he focused on Bertie and his mouth dried up. He’d never been a big fan of the color red. It had always been Adriana’s favorite, from shoes to teddies. But seeing all that red lace stretched over Bertie’s spectacular curves made Keith want to punch a hole in her wall and roar like a lion.

He sucked air into his starving lungs. “Would you mind explaining to me how I thought I’d left my daughter to a night of Disney movies and instead find her learning the latest titty bar dance moves?” His irrational anger grew as he formed each word.

Fury surged over Bertie’s features. “You’ve got a lot of nerve.” For the second time that night, his chest took a beating from a pointy index finger. Bertie, like Liza, jabbed his abused chest three times. “Titty bar moves? Get your mind out of the gutter. For your information, we were dancing to One Direction, a dopey teen idol group your daughter has been listening to for years. They’re about as Disneyesque as you can get with the exception of the damn Mouseketeers!”

“And I suppose this is the latest Baby Gap outfit complete with ho-training heels.” Keith indicated Bertie’s black shoes with red rhinestones. “And what were you guys eating and drinking? Looks like a confetti of pills and beer to me.” He jerked his thumb at the coffee table where a suspicious looking ceramic bowl of colorful pills sat amongst brown beer bottles.

Bertie’s mahogany color hair seemed to levitate from her head and her eyes glowed a fiery green. “Pills? Beer? Are you insane?” She marched over and grabbed a bottle along with the bowl and shoved them at Keith’s gut. “Try Mike and Ike’s and root beer, you moron!”

Keith grappled with the bowl as he recognized the chewy candies. Jesus. What was wrong with him? What made him lose his mind when it came to his daughter? And all rationalization when it came to Bertie? He didn’t understand what kept flipping that switch in his brain. “Look, let me explain. I—”

“No. Stop talking,” she cut him off. “Now, you listen to me. That daughter of yours is a great kid, and she’s done remarkably well without a mother, but she’s a girl and she gets lonely. She wants to be with other girls and their mothers. You’re her dad and she loves you, but she doesn’t feel comfortable talking to you about girly things like hair and shoes and makeup. Or her period.”

Keith winced. “Don’t tell me—”

“Zip it! I’m not done.” Bertie crossed her arms over her phenomenal breasts and the urge to fall to his knees and pay them homage swarmed him. “Pay attention.” Keith’s gaze snapped to her stormy face. “She needs someone to open up to. I suggested Francesca, and even though Maddie loves her, she thinks of her as a grandmother. She doesn’t feel comfortable telling her everything. So, Mr. Perfectly Insane, quit tiptoeing through the tulips with your wild scenarios and crazy accusations and get busy finding a wife. Maddie needs a stable female influence and you…you need someone to keep you in line.” Bertie snatched the bowl and bottle from his hands and plunked them back down on the table.

“Can I speak now?” He gave her a rueful smile.

“Not yet.” Bertie gulped and choked on a sob. She ducked her head and pressed her palms into her stomach. Keith reached for her but she backed away. “Just…just hold her dear to your heart. She wants to spend time with you. Don’t ever take that for granted. I’d give my right arm to have one more day with my parents—” she broke off in a whisper.

Keith felt the same way about his dad. Over the years, he’d managed to squash the hollow feeling that threatened to crush him. His loneliness and despair propelled him forward in his training, and he’d learned early on how to use it as fuel when he competed in tennis. But Keith didn’t want Maddie to feel that she had to go it alone. He wanted to be there for her. He wanted to be her rock whenever she needed it.

Old memories must’ve been playing inside Bertie’s head because her expression turned pensive. She looked fragile and not at all like the growling mama bear protecting her cub that she portrayed minutes before. Bertie had been exactly that. She protected Maddie as if she were her own. She protected Maddie from his colossal blundering and bad parenting. He was grateful for her being the voice of reason to his off-the-rails thoughts.

Bertie cast him a wary look as if he was squirrel-shit crazy, and Keith didn’t blame her. He owed her an apology. “I apologize for everything. You’re right. I’m an ass.”

“And an idiot.”

“That too. I don’t know what comes over me, but where my daughter is concerned, I’m not rational. I promise, I’ll try to work on it.” Keith sighed. “Thank you for…being there for her, and thank you for taking care of her.”

Bertie chuckled and patted his chest in the exact spot she’d skewered moments ago. “You’re a good man, Charlie Brown. A little misguided but good nonetheless. Spend these few days with her. She wants to play tennis with you.”

Keith covered her hand with his. He appreciated her advice more than she could ever know. He placed a kiss on her palm. Bertie’s sparkling green eyes turned into limpid pools. Her lips parted, and Keith’s head dipped. “Ah, Bertie,” he whispered, touching his lips to hers.

“Daddy?”

Bertie jumped back and Keith whirled around. There stood Maddie at the bottom of the stairs in her pink flannel pj’s with little white kittens. Her small toes curled around the edge of the step. Her face had been scrubbed clean. Gone was the hoochie mama with the caked-on makeup. Keith’s heart clammered in his chest. His ten-year-old baby girl was back.

“Um, Daddy, I’m sorry…I’m sorry for all the bad things I said. Please don’t hate me. Because I don’t hate you. I love you so much.”

“Aw, Maddie-Poo. Don’t cry. Come here, honey.”

Maddie hurled herself at Keith, tears streaming down her face, and he hugged her, never wanting to let her go. “I could never hate you, no matter what you do or what you say. You know that, don’t you? I love you more than anything.” Keith kissed the top of her clean hair, breathing in the best smell in the world. He heard Bertie strangle back a sob. He cocked his head and smiled at her wet face. “Now, how about we ask Bertie if she wouldn’t mind letting you finish your sleepover, what do you say?”

Maddie turned her hopeful but teary face to Bertie. “Of course you can, honey.” Bertie held her arms out and Maddie gave her hug. “I’d be so disappointed if you left now.” She cupped Maddie’s face in her hands and kissed her forehead twice. “Now, why don’t you and your dad sit right here for a few minutes while I change, before these killer shoes cripple me.” Bertie gestured in the direction of the kitchen. “Help yourself to more root beer and Mike and Ike’s. I’ll be down in a jiff.” She patted Maddie’s cheek and squeezed her hand. Relief washed over Keith at being given another chance with Maddie. And as for thank-yous, he owed Bertie a big one.

“Maddie, finish up. I think your dad is here,” Bertie called as she answered the knock at her front door the next morning.

“Good morning.” Keith stood on the other side, looking better than a body had a right to. Too bad he was twisted in the head.

Bertie stepped back. “Hey. Come on in. She’s almost done with breakfast.” Keith smiled and that’s when Bertie noticed he held a beautiful bouquet of pink and orange gerbera daisies mixed with pink peonies.
How
adorable. He brought his daughter flowers
. Bertie’s heart melted a little at his thoughtfulness. There was hope for him after all.

“For you,” he said in his low, smoky voice. “Thank you…for everything.” He extended his arm, holding the flowers.

Unable to move, like the rusted Tin Man holding his ax in the air, Bertie’s hand was stuck to the edge of the door. Flowers, for her? Bertie couldn’t remember receiving flowers from an eligible, single guy…ever.

“Would you like me to put them in some water?” Keith offered since she remained rusted stiff.

Bertie blinked. “Oh. Here, let me. Thank you. You shouldn’t have.” She reached for the lovely bouquet, wondering where he bought them so early in the morning. Maybe he was dating a florist. “Maddie’s in the…uh…um…”

“Kitchen?” he supplied.

“That’s it. Kitchen. This way.” Keith’s soft chuckle trailed behind her. “Maddie, your dad’s here. You all done? Keith, can I get you a cup of coffee?”

“That’d be great.”

“Daddy!” Maddie jumped up and gave her dad a hug.

“You sleep okay, Maddie-Poo?” Keith ruffled Maddie’s hair.

“Yep.”

“Not up all night telling secrets?” he teased.

“Nope.” Maddie pulled back, giving him a suspicious look. “Why are you dressed in tennis clothes?”

“So we can hit the courts this morning. Want to?”

“Sure. But I need my clothes and tennis shoes from Aunt Francesca’s.”

“Way ahead of you. Clothes are in the car. Go grab them and you can change here.” Before he’d finished speaking, Maddie was racing for the front door.

Bertie still stood in the middle of her kitchen like a teenage dork, holding the bouquet of flowers. “Why don’t we find a vase to put these in?” he said, taking the flowers as his warm hand brushed her stiff fingers.

“Good idea. Let me think. Where would I keep vases?” She didn’t recall owning any. “Maybe over the fridge. Would you mind looking…up there?” Bertie pointed to the hard-to-reach cabinet above her refrigerator, hoping nothing fell out like an old wok from the 1970s or an old box of condoms…
cookies!
She meant cookies. Bertie’s brain had taken a detour as she recalled what they did the last time he stood in her kitchen. An embarrassed flush spread over her neck and cheeks, and Keith smiled like he knew her mind had skipped the tracks and wandered into naughty land.

He pulled down a cut crystal vase that had probably belonged to her mom. “This ought to do it.” He put the vase under the kitchen faucet and turned it on.

“I’m ready.” Bertie jumped as Maddie reentered the kitchen dressed in a pink Nike tennis skirt with matching top and hat. Maddie stopped and gave her an odd look, like Bertie had shaved initials in the side of her head. Keith placed the vase of flowers in the center of the table.

“Ready to go, Dad?”

“Yep. As soon as I get that cup of coffee Bertie offered me.”

Holy doorknockers. She had totally forgotten, so lost in her daydream of Mr. Hubbalicious and his talented mouth and fingers. “Right. Coffee. No problem. Coming right up.” Bertie opened the refrigerator and then slammed it closed. That was not where she kept brewed coffee.

“Bertie, you okay?” Maddie asked, still giving her a funny look.

“Never better.” Bertie pulled down two pottery mugs and filled them both from the carafe, hoping she didn’t spill any with her shaky hand. “Cream or sugar?” She handed a mug to Keith who was settled in one of her kitchen chairs, struggling not to laugh.

“A little cream.” His smiling, coffee-colored eyes warmed her to her toes.

“No problem.”

“Would you like to join us today on the tennis courts and maybe catch a movie later?”

Bertie stopped, holding a little cow pitcher of cream. “Are you talking to me?” Keith reached for the pitcher, obviously afraid she’d drop it. Smart man. He poured cream in their mugs.

“Yes. I’m inviting you to join us. Is that okay with you, Maddie?”

“That’d be awesome!”

Keith pulled out Bertie’s chair. Bertie’s brow furrowed. A million reasons came to mind why she shouldn’t join them today. The main one that jumped to the forefront waving a red flag was not the to-do list as long as her arm, but the fact that she didn’t play tennis. And she didn’t relish the idea of making a fool of herself in front of him. Keith gently pushed her into her seat, since her knees had forgotten how to bend, and Bertie murmured a thank you.

“Are you coming?” Maddie bounced in her seat like an excited chipmunk.

“Okay…here’s the thing.” Bertie cleared her throat. Keith winked in her direction as he sipped his coffee. “Uh, I have a ton of work to do—” Maddie groaned. “On your room, cutie, and I really—”

“I think you deserve a day off. Don’t you agree, Maddie?”

“Yeah. Besides, you said you were the boss. You can give yourself a day off.”

This was not going well. Bertie would like nothing better than to take some time off, but maybe for a spa day or a little retail therapy.
Not
play tennis with a professional she had wicked, X-rated fantasies about. “Okay, well, here’s the thing—”

“Another ‘thing’?” Keith chuckled behind his mug.

“You see, I’ve never played tennis.” Maddie’s mouth dropped open at that astonishing bit of news. Of course, in her world, where her father had ruled the courts for years, everyone knew how to play tennis. Bertie didn’t dare glance in Keith’s direction, afraid his eyes might’ve bugged out. “Never even held a racket. So, I’d be like this goofy dum-dum chasing balls, tripping over my feet, dropping my racket.” Maddie started to giggle. “It would not be a pretty sight,” Bertie finished.

“My dad could teach you. He’s a professional, you know.”

Boy did she ever. A professional pain in the arse. A professional daddy on the edge. A professional kisser.
Down, girl.

“Hmmm, I don’t know, Maddie-Poo. She may be right. We’ve seen her skate, remember?”

Maddie pulled a silly face. “Oh, yeah.” She and Keith burst out laughing.

“Hey, I may be a lousy skater, but I can dance, right?”

Maddie nodded but kept laughing.

“Okay, here’s the thing,” Keith mocked her favorite expression, “today, you’re going to learn how to play tennis from one of the top ten tennis players in the world. Maddie, grab your things and load up the car. Bertie, get dressed.” Keith rose and placed his mug in the sink and Maddie scrambled from the room, cheering with excitement.

“Did it ever occur to you that I don’t own a racket?” Bertie snapped.

“Did it ever occur to you that I have plenty of rackets? Now stop stalling and put some clothes on, preferably athletic and not that red lacy number.”

Bertie jerked up from loading the dishwasher and narrowed her eyes at Keith. “What’d you say?” She could’ve sworn she heard something like “I want to eat off you.”

“Nothing.” But Keith looked at her as if she had on the red dress and he was peeling it off her with his teeth. Bertie sighed as her inner kitty chased a ball of yarn and woke up her hibernating uterus.

“I know I’m going to regret this.” She grabbed her sneakers from the mud room and started to leave the kitchen. “Hey, you’re retired. You can’t be top ten anymore.”

“No. But I’ve still got it.” And Bertie suspected he wasn’t referring to tennis. Oh gawd. This was going to be a long day.

***

Keith drove Maddie and Bertie to the worn-down Jaycee Park on the outskirts of Harmony to get a closer look at the facility he might consider investing in. He signed in and paid the court fee at the front desk. After last night, he wanted to make it up to Bertie and Maddie regarding his bad behavior. He felt crappy for jumping to the wrong conclusions like a psycho, and he despaired over ruining Maddie’s night of fun. Flowers always went a long way in the apology arena, and he figured they could all use a day off.

Out on the court, he started with Bertie, giving her a few basic instructions on how to grip the racket and demonstrating how to swing and follow through on a forehand.

Bertie wasn’t kidding when she said she couldn’t play tennis. But she looked cute as hell chasing down the ball. Maddie tried to help by yelling, “Watch the ball,” every time Keith fed one over the net, but it only distracted Bertie and she watched Maddie instead.

After missing six forehands in a row, meaning the strings of her racket and the ball were miles apart, Bertie stomped her foot. “Arrgh. I’ll never get this. I give up. You two continue without me.”

“Hold up. Maddie, come over here and feed some balls. Let me help Bertie.” Keith and Maddie switched sides on the court. Keith held Bertie’s racket up. “Let me check your grip.” He adjusted her hand slightly. “Okay. Good. Now, remember low to high and always follow through over your shoulder.”

Bertie nodded and allowed him to demonstrate the swing as he continued to grip her hand. “Do you feel that?” he asked.

“Uh, feel what?” Bertie sounded a little preoccupied. It probably had everything to do with his arm brushing over her breasts. Because it sure as hell was distracting him.

“The motion? Can you feel it? Pivot with your shoulders, take the racket back, and swing low to high, finishing over your left shoulder.” Keith demonstrated the motion several more times.

“Uh, I think I’ve got it now,” Bertie said in a husky voice. Keith released her hand with some reluctance. The faint smell of gardenias from Bertie’s heated body mixed with the crisp air and made him a little light-headed.

He cleared his throat. “Maddie, feed a few forehands. Nice and easy.” Keith stepped back to give Bertie room to swing. Maddie fed the first two and Bertie missed, but on the third one, she made contact, whacking the ball over the net and deep into the deuce court.

“I did it!” Bertie jumped up and down.

“Yay! Way to go,” Maddie cheered.

“Did you see that one?” Bertie faced Keith, grinning from ear to ear like she’d just won the finals at Wimbledon.

“I sure did. I better give Serena Williams a call and tell her she might have a little competition.”

“Mock me now, tennis god, but you wait and see. I’m going to learn how to play this game,” Bertie said, her nose tilted in the air.

“You planning on taking lessons?”

“Sure. I like that pro over there.” She pointed to one of the pros teaching a lesson on court one, sporting long hair pulled back in a ponytail and a Fu Manchu moustache.

“That hack?” Keith laughed. “Not while I’m still around, you won’t.”

“Really?”

Maddie leaned over the net. “Dad, you can teach Bertie how to play, can’t you? Way better than anybody else.”

“See? Even Maddie knows a hack when she sees one,” he said to Bertie. “Maddie, let’s hit a few while Bertie takes a break.”

“She’s a little brainwashed by all that daddy worship you feed her,” Bertie mumbled under her breath. Keith threw his head back and laughed.

Keith drilled Maddie for another forty-five minutes while Bertie sat on the sidelines and made calls, checking up on orders. A small crowd gathered behind the fence at the Jaycee Park to watch him as word spread that he was on the court. Once he and Maddie called it quits, Keith went over and signed tennis balls and pieces of scrap paper. After handing a ball back to a young boy with hero worship in his eyes, Keith looked up to see Dottie Duncan standing right behind the boy.

“Glad to see you gracing our run-down courts with your presence,” she snapped by way of a greeting. “This is my grandson Tyler. He was one of your biggest fans when you played.”

“Nice to meet you, Tyler.” Keith shook the kid’s sweaty hand while Tyler beamed up at him with bright freckles and a mouthful of metal. Keith continued to sign a few more balls until the crowd petered off. He shook hands with a couple of pros, talked a little tennis, and then he hefted his tennis bag over his shoulder and left the court, heading for the low, run-down building that housed the lockers.

Inside, Bertie was standing at the front counter next to Dottie. And Keith spotted Maddie over in the far corner, playing an old pinball machine with Dottie’s grandson.

“How old is Tyler?” Keith asked, eyeing the kid to make sure his hands stayed on the machine and didn’t wander in Maddie’s direction. He caught Bertie rolling her eyes as she checked her phone.

“Thirteen. He’s a good student and loves tennis. He lives in Raleigh and plays over at the Raleigh Tennis Club. They got a pretty nice facility,” Dottie said as she picked up a stack of papers from the counter.

Keith nodded. “Uh-huh. I’ve played there.”

“But this area could use another nice facility. You given any thought to working on the rejuvenation of this park? There’s a meeting next week. We sure could use some help.”

As in money and piles of it. Keith smiled. “I might stop by.” Bertie’s head jerked up and she studied him.

“You should consider it your civic duty.” Dottie narrowed her blue–eye shadowed eyes at him and then turned her attention to Bertie. “How about you? You going to join the committee?”

For the love of God, Bertie didn’t need another activity to add to her already overflowing list. But the rest of Harmony didn’t seem to agree. He tried sending Bertie a telepathic message.
Just
say
no. Come on, you can do it.
One
little
word.

“Uh, well, sure. Let me check my calendar.” Bertie nodded like a maniacal pigeon bobbing its head. Keith wanted to smack his own forehead. This girl needed some serious intervention on overextending herself.

“Actually, Bertie has a massive deadline looming with my house. And I’m real hard-ass to work for.” Keith thought he heard Bertie mumble, “no kidding” under her breath. “I’ll come to the meeting and fill in for her. If we get desperate, we can bring in Harmony’s queen of volunteering.”