Sasha’s Dad (16 page)

“While you finish up out here, I’m going to run up to the house to check my e-mail.” She was awaiting a new consulting contract. “You’re okay out here for a couple of minutes, right?”

“Yeah, of course.” Sasha kept raking.

Claire headed for the house. The impending sunset spread out around her as golden rays broke through the oak trees that lined the short drive between the barn and the house.

She had a sense of serenity she hadn’t felt in a long time, if ever. She was living her dream and making up for the sins of the past. While she’d never completely compensate for abandoning her friendship with Natalie during those last critical years, this time with Natalie’s daughter made a difference.

Claire wasn’t in the house more than a few minutes, enough time to check her e-mail and see that she didn’t have the new contract yet. She grabbed a sweatshirt and went back out to the barn.

The gleam of the remaining daylight reflected off Dutch’s red pickup, startling her. He was parked next to the barn. She looked at her watch. He wasn’t due for another twenty minutes or so.

When Claire walked into the barn she didn’t know if the wave of apprehension she felt came from Dutch arriving early or the tone of his voice as he addressed Sasha.

“You’ve been out here by yourself for
how
long?”

“Only a few minutes, Dad. Claire went back to the house to check her e-mail. She’ll be right back. We’ve been out here together for the past hour.”

“I don’t care if it’s a few minutes or an hour, Sasha. You’re supposed to have your cell phone with you at all times.”

“Dad!” Her voice had the adolescent tone she rarely used with Claire. The “you’re driving me crazy with your ignorance” tone.

“I left it in my backpack, up at the house. I’ve been with Claire the whole time, Dad. You knew I was here, so what’s the big deal?”

“The
big deal,
young lady, is that I’ve been trying to call you for over an hour. I wanted to make sure you got here safely, and I needed to tell you I might be late. As it turns out I got done faster than I expected, so I decided to come and get you early.”

“
Dad!
I’m supposed to have two hours of service with the llamas each week. I still have another fifteen minutes.”

“Working on your 4-H project is a privilege, Sasha. If you can’t obey simple rules about using your cell phone to stay in touch, instead of texting all your buddies, 4-H and every other extra activity is going bye-bye.”

“Dad!”

No way was she going to let him rattle her. She’d done nothing wrong. Neither had Sasha.

They’d spoken at once, and Claire’s attempt at a neutral greeting was swallowed whole by Dutch’s accusation.

“She wasn’t really alone, Dutch. I was gone for only a few minutes.”

“What would’ve happened if she needed you? Could you hear her from here?” Dutch turned to Sasha. “Could you have called Claire on your cell? No.”

He turned back to Claire.

“We have strict rules about Sasha’s cell phone, no matter where she is. I need to be able to get hold of her, and vice versa, at any time.”

“Sure, that’s a good idea.” Claire looked at Sasha and immediately felt torn. She wanted to be Sasha’s ally, but Dutch’s concern was legitimate. Although she did think he was overreacting….

“I’ll make sure Sasha carries her cell phone when she’s here.”

“Sasha’s a big girl. Right, Sash? You can remember to carry your cell.” Dutch’s tone was softening slightly.

“Yes, Dad.” Sasha’s face reflected the glumness of her reply.

“You’re almost done here, Sasha. Why don’t you finish up and meet me and your dad out in the drive in a few minutes?” Claire told herself it wasn’t her place to chew Dutch out for being so harsh with Sasha. He was the father, and she understood that he had to put his daughter’s safety first.

It felt as if he didn’t trust her, though. That stung.

She grabbed Dutch’s elbow and nudged him toward the barn door. He stiffened, but didn’t fight her touch.

“Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?” Claire kept her voice steady as she measured the extent of Dutch’s anger. She’d done this before—figured out how close to the edge an interview subject was so she could gauge how far she had to go before that person would break and share his or her feelings without reservation.

Dutch wasn’t a congressman or the president. Yet he made her aware of her breath, her heartbeat, her need. Dutch made her shake with anxiety, knowing he’d never let their original feelings for each other resurface. He’d lost too much and wouldn’t allow himself to be vulnerable, especially to her.

She reminded herself that this was for Natalie but, even more so, for Sasha. Sasha needed time with Claire; it gave her insight into her mother she wouldn’t get elsewhere.

Once they were out of Sasha’s earshot and line of vision, she spoke. “Dutch, I know you’re upset. And you have every right to be.”

His eyes narrowed as he tempered his anger.

“I would never have left Sasha out here if I didn’t think she was safe,” Claire said, stepping closer.

“I’m not used to all the rules kids have nowadays. But let me know and I’ll do whatever you want me to, whatever will make you the most comfortable with Sasha spending time here.”

“It’s not about my comfort, Claire. It’s about her safety!” His eyes blazed with fury and pent-up frustration. He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets.

She stared at him, unable to respond.

“You still don’t get it, do you, Claire?” His words hung between them.

“I—”

“It’s always been about
you,
Claire,” he broke in. “What
you
need, what you want to study, what you want for your life. You don’t know a thing about kids. You’ve been single all these years.”

At the unfairness of his words, her spine straightened.

“Being single and living alone doesn’t mean I’m unaware of what a child needs or how to keep her safe.”

His gaze never left her eyes. He’d convicted her without even a trial.

“I’m not talking about now, Claire.” His mouth thinned. “You never got it when Tom died. You said you did. And after a while you seemed to get over what had happened between Natalie and me. But you never truly forgave us. You didn’t care enough. You never even talked to me after that. You threw both of us away that easily.”

“Hardly!” she snapped, coming to her own defense. “
You
were the one who chose to comfort Natalie that night.”

“We were kids. We let our emotions and hormones carry us away.” He shook his head. “Everything you’ve ever done has been planned for, executed, each goal achieved. There’s no room for human shortcomings in your life, is there?”

Claire stayed silent. Not usual for her, but she knew that everything he said was true—at least until she’d moved back to Dovetail. She’d accused herself of the same things countless times.

Dutch pulled a hand out of his pocket and raked it through his hair. “I understand why you never forgave me, Claire. But Natalie was your best friend. You were her rock during her childhood, when her parents split up, and for a while right after Tom died. But you had to go on that debate trip, didn’t you? And then you weren’t there anymore.”

“Dutch, I
did
forgive both of you a long time ago, although I’m not sure you’ve forgiven me. But what happened wasn’t totally my fault, either.” She finally verbalized the conclusion she’d come to over the past couple of months.

“You and I had already drifted apart when you and Natalie got together. Our choices,
each
of our choices, made our destiny for us.”

Claire watched Dutch as his wary gaze stilled and comprehension dawned.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me for leaving town and not being here for Natalie at the end, Dutch. As a matter of fact, I’m not asking your forgiveness for anything. If you choose to continue taking offense at my actions or inactions, so be it. As for me, I’m grateful for this time with Sasha, but I don’t want it to cause friction between you. I’m doing this for myself as much as for her.”

At his obstinate stance and hard-boiled expression, her anger simmered and she wasn’t sure she could control it anymore.

She noticed a movement in the barn. Sasha was talking to one of the llamas and laughing.

Sasha.

Claire turned her gaze back on Dutch.

“You’re right, Dutch. I’ve been a selfish bitch at times. But not all of what I’ve done is bad. If the worst thing I did was let go of my childhood friends…did it ever occur to you that maybe it’s what I needed to do to find myself? As much as you and Natalie needed to stay in Dovetail, near each other?”

“Natalie didn’t live long enough to find herself, Claire. She wasn’t given that choice.”

“You’re wrong, Dutch. Natalie lived the life she chose. She studied history the way she’d dreamed, had the baby she wanted, had you.” She waited a moment, allowed her words to register for Dutch.

“Natalie’s dead, Dutch. Nothing I do, or you do, will bring her back. It’s no one’s fault that she died, and I’m not taking your misplaced blame and anger anymore.”

“This isn’t going anywhere.” Dutch turned toward the barn.

Claire touched his shoulder and he turned back toward her. “No, wait. I’m not done yet, Dutch.”

“No, I imagine you’re not.” His expression was guarded, but his voice softer. Claire knew this was when she had to press her point.

“I’ve changed my life, started over. I can be a presence in Sasha’s life that will make a difference. A good difference, Dutch. I’m not a monster, for heaven’s sake. I’m a woman who’s made some mistakes.”

The anger roiled slow and hot in her belly. Her hands started to shake. “And you know what, Dutch? I don’t need your forgiveness or your approval. For anything.” She swept her hands in front of her as if clearing a table.

“All I care about now is doing the right thing by Natalie and doing what I can for Sasha. But if it’s going to upset you this much, it isn’t worth it. Not for any of us.”

She left him standing alone when she strode back to the barn.

Claire met Sasha in front of the barn.

“Hey!” Sasha leaned into Claire in what Claire had come to learn was a sixth-grader’s version of a hug. No arms, but Sasha’s head rested on Claire’s shoulder long enough for Claire to know it was an intentional gesture. Claire gave Sasha a quick squeeze.

“How was your day?” They walked into the barn together and Sasha shrugged out of her backpack.

“Oh, fine.” She dropped the heavy bag on the bench outside Nip and Tuck’s pen. “Actually, it wasn’t that great.”

“What happened?” Claire was careful to keep her voice steady, her focus on opening the latch to the cria pen. One thing she’d learned over the past month was that Sasha was more likely to open up if Claire didn’t appear too interested.

“Remember I told you about my friend Naomi?”

“The girl who wore the dark makeup?” No doubt without her parents’ permission. “I met her at your sleepover, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. Well, she’s been trying to go out with this creepy eighth-grader. He’s a regular sleazebag and he won’t have anything to do with her. So now she’s going totally bonkers and it’s freaking me out.”

“What do you mean
bonkers?
Is she overly emotional?”

Sasha looked at Claire as if she were a fossilized dodo bird.

“Kind of, but, you know, more like someone who’s a Goth but also sometimes cuts.”

“Cuts? You don’t mean
cuts class,
do you, Sasha?”

Claire held her breath. She knew what cutting meant but needed to make sure Sasha understood the significance of it.

“No, kids who are lonely or sad sometimes cut themselves to feel physical pain, because it’s, like, the only thing that’ll break through their, like, emotional numbness.”

Her frown and fidgety motion as she worked with the llamas tipped Claire off to how much this bothered Sasha. Her frequent use of
like
also told Claire how agitated she was.

“Where did you learn about this?”

“About Naomi?” Sasha looked up from her chores.

“No, about cutting.” Claire stood in front of her.

“Well…” Sasha leaned on her rake. “All the kids talk about it and then in health class Mr. Papadago brought in the school counselor, Ms. Nosette, and she had a talk with us and told us about it.”

Claire’s insides shook with fear, but she maintained an even tone. She had to or risk missing something important.

“Does your dad know?”

“Well, yeah, I think so. I mean, most people aren’t worried about it. But Ms. Nosette said she wanted us to look out for anyone who seemed like they were more upset than normal.”

“Did you tell your dad about Naomi? Did you mention it to anyone else, like one of your teachers? This is serious, Sasha. Naomi may need professional help and you may be her only link to it.”

“No, it’s not like I’ve actually seen her cut herself. She’s acting like she’s upset, but I don’t think she’ll really do anything.” Sasha started raking again, then paused. “You know, she had all these scratches on her arms a while back, but she said they were from the bushes near her house.”

Claire sighed and stroked Tuck’s neck while Sasha tended to Nip. “Sometimes we can’t tell what someone will or won’t do, Sasha. You could talk to your dad and he could call Naomi’s folks.”

“Yeah, well, Naomi’s parents don’t give a crap.”

Claire was sure Dutch wouldn’t approve of that language, but she needed to reach Sasha. Hoped to, anyhow. She’d fill Dutch in later.

“That’s too bad. You know you can always tell your school counselor or nurse, too.”

“Yeah, I know. I really don’t think she’s losing it but, well, it’s still freaky to see her acting so weird.”

“Sasha, we all want to be there for our friends, but the most important thing is that you’re safe and you know what’s best for you. You’ve got your dad, and your aunt Ginny and me, right?”

She nodded. “Dealing with Naomi can get so stressful.”

“Being around Nip and Tuck helps, though, doesn’t it?” Claire was never sure where today’s reality for middle school students ended and Sasha’s penchant for being a drama girl began.

“Of course. You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Nip?” Sasha crooned to the cria as though she’d been raising llamas her whole life.

Steps crunched on the gravel drive outside the barn and Claire turned to see Dutch walking into the enclosure.

Sasha greeted him. “Hi, Dad! Why are you here so early?”

“Way to make a guy feel welcome. I thought I’d come and get you two and take you out to dinner.”

Claire silently berated herself for the wobbly feeling in her stomach. “You don’t need to take me to dinner, Dutch.”

“Aw, come on, Claire. It’ll be fun.” Sasha eliminated Claire’s wiggle room.

Dutch’s enigmatic gaze was so bright Claire couldn’t maintain eye contact. “Yeah, it’ll be fun. You’ve done so much for Sasha, let us do this one thing for you.”

Claire relented. He’d said
us,
not
I.
“Okay. But, Sasha, you still have a few chores to finish, don’t you?”

“Oh, yeah.” Sasha smiled, her braces glinting in the late-afternoon sunlight.

“Sasha, do you have your cell phone?”

“Yes. Right here.” Sasha pulled the phone out of her front jeans pocket.

“Great. I’m going to talk to your dad outside for a few minutes until you’re done, okay?”

“Sure.”

Once she and Dutch were out of Sasha’s curious earshot, Claire released a long breath.

“Is everything all right?” Dutch’s tone was concerned without being accusative—which was an improvement.

She stopped near his truck and turned to him. “Dutch, what do you know about Sasha’s friend Naomi?”

“Naomi?” His wrinkled brow betrayed his concern. “They were best buddies growing up, but I haven’t seen Naomi around our house lately. Although she was at the sleepover.” He frowned. “A very Goth-looking girl. Do you remember meeting her?”

“Yes. I’m asking because Sasha says Naomi is upset and shows signs of depression, or some kind of emotional distress.” She rubbed her upper arms. “I’m not a psychologist or an expert with children, but you may want to call Naomi’s parents.”

“I’m not sure that would do any good.” Dutch had one eyebrow raised, and his hands rested on his hips. “Do you think Sasha’s hanging out with her too much?”

“Not at all. As a matter of fact, you can be proud of Sasha. She doesn’t want to be part of Naomi’s poor choices. But we may be talking about something Naomi doesn’t have control over, like her mental health. Someone needs to know.”

Dutch nodded. “I’ll talk to Sasha, and I’ll call the school in the morning.” He paused. “You know Sasha can be a drama queen at times, don’t you?”

Claire smiled. “We all can. But this is serious.” She looked at him. “Be careful how you approach it with Sasha, Dutch. I don’t want her to feel like I betrayed her trust. I just want her to be safe.”

“Claire?” The sparkle was back in his blue eyes.

“Dutch?” She called on her emotional reserves to guard her heart.

“Thank you. You’ve come to mean a lot to both of us.”

“Thanks, Dutch.” She disregarded the comment about himself.

“Now, let’s go to dinner.” He smiled and her resolve melted in direct response to her attraction.

“Where are we going?”

“Nothing fancy—how about the diner?”

“Okay.” Phew. The diner was busy and full of people. No opportunity to get too close to Dutch.