Tides of Hope (11 page)

“I'll bet.” Edith stirred some cream into her coffee, flashing Kate a satisfied smile. “What a nice picture of domesticity.”

“And Mommy and me went to his house to see Vicki's bedroom. It was yucky.” Maddie wrinkled her nose and made a face. “But we went to the store with him and bought all kinds of good stuff to make it better.”

Though Kate made a project out of stirring cream into her coffee, she could sense Edith's scrutiny.

“Maybe we can go see it after it's done,” Maddie continued. “Can we, Mommy?”

“I don't think we'll have any reason to go back, Maddie. And you'll see Vicki every day at Mrs. Shaw's.”

“But not the lootenin.” Her face fell.

“Well now, I can think of another chance for you to see him. And to meet Vicki. That's why I came over. I called him earlier today and invited them for dinner Sunday night when they get back from Wisconsin. I'm hoping you both will come, too. I thought it might be nice for the girls to get to know each other with their parents present rather than just being thrown together on Monday morning.”

Excitement brightened Maddie's eyes. “Can we, Mommy?”

After their unsettling parting on Tuesday, Kate wasn't in any hurry to be around the lieutenant again. But her neighbor's rationale was sound. A casual dinner in Edith's home would familiarize Vicki with both the setting and her caregiver. And it would give the girls a chance to get comfortable with each other, too.

She couldn't think of any logical reason to refuse.

And she didn't intend to share the illogical ones with Edith.

She was stuck. And judging by Edith's smug demeanor, the Lighthouse Lane matchmaker knew it.

“That sounds good, Edith. Count us in. Can I bring anything?”

Edith shook her head and rose. “Just your appetite. That's what I told Craig, too.”

Kate shot her a suspicious look, but her neighbor's face was the picture of innocence as she leaned over to kiss Maddie's forehead. If there was a deeper meaning in her comment, she wasn't letting on.

“I'll see you both at church. Would you like to ride with us this week, Kate?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Can we go to Downyflake afterward?” Maddie asked. “We could celebrate my new friend.”

“Celebrating new friends.” Edith mulled that over, her eyes twinkling. “I like that. Good idea, Maddie. After all, a person can never have too many friends.” She aimed the last remark at Kate. “I'll let myself out.”

As Kate watched the older woman disappear into the kitchen, there was no mistaking the meaning behind
that
comment.

Edith wasn't about to be abandon her matchmaking mission any time in the near future.

 

Less than three hours into his reunion with his daughter, Craig was having serious qualms about his ability to win her over.

As Lillian Cole refilled his coffee cup on Saturday night, he could feel Vicki scrutinizing him from the other side of the table—just as she'd been doing since his arrival. Usually with a solemn expression while gripping his mother's skirt. Not that he blamed her for her clinginess. Her grandmother had been the most constant loving presence in her young life. But her dubious appraisal unnerved him. It was clear his daughter didn't feel any more confident about his fatherhood abilities than he did.

“How about some pie?”

At Lillian's question, he forced himself to shift gears, somehow managing to summon up a smile. “Are you kidding? I've been salivating ever since I saw it on the counter.” In truth, his appetite had vanished. But his mother had gone to a lot of effort to make a nice dinner, and he didn't want to disappoint her. “After all that fried chicken, though, I should resist. Pretty soon I'll need Roto-Rooter to clean out my arteries.”

She gave him a playful nudge as she picked up his plate. “You don't need to worry. I've been eating fried chicken and apple pie for most of my seventy years and my cholesterol is perfect. I gave you good genes.” She picked up Vicki's almost-untouched plate. “Are you finished, honey?”

The little girl nodded and tightened her grip on the ragged yellow blanket she'd been carrying around with her since his arrival. It reminded him of the one Maddie had.

“How about some pie?”

“Can I just have ice cream?”

“Sure enough. One extra-large scoop of vanilla coming up. Maybe with a little chocolate sauce?” Lillian smiled and winked at the child.

“Okay.”

No answering smile, Craig noted. Just that big-eyed, forlorn stare in his direction.

The knot in his stomach tightened another notch.

While his mother did her best to keep a lighthearted conversation flowing during dessert, Vicki answered in monosyllables. And when it came time to get ready for bed, she wanted nothing to do with him, despite her grandmother's urging to let him handle the chore.

Craig had faced rejection before in his life. And he'd learned how to deal with it.

Except when it came from his daughter, he discovered.

Lillian sent him an apologetic look. “Would you like to come along, Craig?”

One look at his daughter told him her preference, and he shook his head. “No. You two go ahead. I'll do KP.”

As he cleaned up, he tried not to think too far ahead. But tomorrow night, when it would be just him and Vicki, loomed ominously. In the past, the nanny had taken care of the bedtime ritual, often long before he got home from the office. And in the morning, he was gone before his daughter woke up.

It was easier that way. Less painful.

For him anyway.

The problem was, by the time he'd realized how much he'd alienated his daughter and abdicated his responsibilities as a father, he'd had no idea how to repair the damage.

He still didn't. But he had to try. He owed it to Nicole. And Vicki. And himself.

So now, together on Nantucket, they'd sink or swim.

He tried not to even consider the possibility that it would be the former.

“She's all settled.” His mother reentered the kitchen and pulled out a mug to make a cup of tea, casting a discerning glance his way. “Don't take the rejection personally, Craig.”

He stood with his back to the counter and pressed his palms flat behind him, gripping the edge. “How else am I supposed to take it?”

She slid the cup of water into the microwave and pressed a button. “She doesn't know you. It will be better when it's just the two of you.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

“Believe it. You were a wonderful father to Aaron. And to Vicki when she was a baby. Those skills are still there.”

Craig thought about Maddie and how she'd responded to him. That was a good sign, he supposed. Except Maddie was a happy child who'd always been loved and cherished. And knew it, thanks to Kate.

Vicki, on the other hand, had no memory of a doting parent. Nicole had died when she was fourteen months old, and he'd been emotionally absent since then. She presented a far bigger challenge than Maddie.

“You seem doubtful.”

At his mother's comment, Craig tightened his grip on the edge of the counter. “I am. When it comes to Vicki anyway.” He shook his head. “She might be little, but she knows I haven't been there for her. She doesn't trust me. Rightfully so. And I don't know how to deal with that.”

“By loving her. By being there for her from now on. By taking charge of her care instead of passing it off to a nanny. By doing exactly what you're doing right now. You'll win her over, Craig. I have every confidence that in six months you two will be the best of buddies. And I'll be praying for that.”

So would he, Craig decided as they finished tidying up the kitchen and parted for the night. Because he was going to need all the help he could get to make the two of them a family.

W
hen Edith opened her door the next night to admit them, she was wearing a headband sporting two playful daffodils that bobbed on gold coils above her head. Craig welcomed the comic relief. It had been a tense trip.

“Nice headpiece.”

“Thanks. I'm getting in the mood for the Daffodil Festival. Only two weeks to go, you know. And our three million daffodils are determined to arrive on time. I checked them out myself along Milestone Road today. Pepped me right up after our long winter.” She bent down to the little girl. “You must be Vicki.”

Craig felt his daughter edge closer to him. No more than a hair. But he'd take it. She'd kept her distance during the entire trip, saying little, just staring at him with those big, solemn blue eyes.

He dropped down beside her, noting her firm grip on the tattered blanket she'd insisted on bringing with them. “This is Mrs. Shaw, Vicki. The lady I told you about, who's going to take care of you while I'm at work.”

“And we're going to have so much fun.” Edith smiled. “Do you like to make cookies?”

“I don't know how. But sometimes I helped my grandma.”

“Perfect. I always need a good helper. Tomorrow we'll make chocolate chip ones. Do you like those?”

Vicki nodded.

“Good. Well, come on in. Kate and Maddie are already here.”

Although he'd never been inside Edith's house, Craig wasn't surprised by the cozy early American decor. It suited the warm, welcoming manner of the owners.

But he was more interested in the red-haired woman and dark-eyed little girl who stood waiting for them in the living room. When Kate smiled at him, some of his tension dissipated.

“Now that we're all here, I have something for the girls.” Edith opened a drawer in the antique sideboard along one wall and withdrew two coloring books and a pack of crayons. “Would you like to color until dinner?”

“I would.” Maddie spoke up without hesitation and moved toward the older woman, giving Vicki a shy peek.

When his daughter didn't respond, Craig once again dropped to the balls of his feet beside her. “Do you like to color, Vicki?”

“Yes.” She peeked at the other girl. “But I don't know her.”

“I told you about Maddie on the plane, remember? Mrs. Shaw takes care of her, too. She's very nice.”

When Vicki hesitated, Kate joined them, putting herself on the youngster's level, as well. “Hello, Vicki. I'm Maddie's mommy. Your daddy told me all about you and how happy he is you're coming to live with him. Maddie's been so excited. She hopes you'll be friends.”

“I've never had a friend.”

At Vicki's muted comment, compassion softened Kate's eyes. “Well, we're going to fix that. You'll have lots of friends here.”

The little girl eased closer to Kate. “Are you the one who helped my daddy fix my new room?”

“Yes.”

“It's pretty. Pink is my favorite color.”

“Maddie picked it out. That's her favorite color, too.” Kate looked toward her daughter and motioned her over, taking her hand as she approached. “Vicki likes pink, too, honey.”

“I knew you would.” Maddie moved closer. “My room isn't pink, but I have a lot of pink stuff in it. Maybe you can see it sometime. Could she, Mommy?”

“I think we could arrange that.” Kate took the second coloring book from Edith. “Look at all these pretty pictures. What would you like to color, Vicki?”

The little girl tucked herself in beside Kate, watching as she turned the pages. “That one.” She pointed to a picture of a family sitting on the ground, enjoying a picnic.

“I like that one, too.” Maddie leaned over Kate's shoulder on the other side.

“I wish I had a family like that.”

His daughter's wistful tone tugged at Craig's heart.

“Me, too. I only have a mommy. My daddy went to heaven,” Maddie told Vicki.

“My mommy went to heaven,” Vicki replied.

“But you have a nice daddy.”

Vicki sent him a skeptical look, but before she could respond Edith herded the girls toward the kitchen table. Chester, wearing a daffodil boutonniere and a grin, took up the rear.

Standing, Craig helped Kate to her feet, cupping her elbow with one hand, the mohair of her flattering plum-colored sweater soft against his palm. “Thanks for smoothing out the intros.”

“She's a darling girl.”

“But too quiet.”

A burst of childish laughter came from the kitchen, and Kate grinned. “I don't think that's going to last for long.”

Craig shoved his hands in his pockets. “I hope not. The room was a hit, by the way. She was thrilled.”

“I'm glad.” She hesitated, as if debating whether to say more, then took the plunge. “Look, if there's anything I can
do to help ease this transition, let me know. Being a single parent is tough under the best of circumstances, but you've got an even bigger challenge to overcome.” She wiped her palms on her black slacks and folded her arms across her chest. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that if you ever need to talk, or to bounce ideas off someone, I'm available.”

The offer took Craig off guard—and touched him in a way nothing had for a very long while. After leaving his mother behind and boarding the plane with Vicki, he'd felt more alone than he had since the tragic day that had robbed him of his family. But Kate's magnanimous gesture lessened his sense of isolation, giving him a beacon of hope to cling to if he floundered, much like a lighthouse offers a guiding light to those who are lost at sea.

“I appreciate that, Kate. I may take you up on it.”

Edith returned then, and they had no chance to talk one-on-one the rest of the evening as they downed pizza and the daffodil-shaped sugar cookies the older woman had baked for the occasion. But after they all parted company for the night, he found he wasn't the only one who had been uplifted and encouraged by the get-together.

As he and Vicki headed toward his car, she, too, was more talkative and relaxed.

“I like Maddie,” she said as he buckled her in.

“I do, too. She's a very nice little girl.”

“Her mommy's nice, too.”

“Yes, she is.”

“But Maddie wishes she had a daddy. Just like I wish I had a mommy. Why do mommies and daddies have to die?”

Blindsided by the question, Craig secured the clip on her safety harness, glad the shadows in the car hid his face. He wished he had a good answer. But he didn't. For Vicki—or himself.

“I don't know.” He framed his reply with care. “Only God
knows that. I guess He wants some of them in heaven with Him sooner than we would like.”

She squished her blanket in her hands, holding it close to her chest as she regarded him in the dim light. “Are you going to die?”

At her tremulous question, his stomach clenched, and he touched her small hand with a finger that wasn't quite steady.

“God decides that, Vicki. But you know what? I plan to be around for a long, long time. I want to take you to kindergarten on your first day of school. I want to help you learn how to read. And I want to go bike riding and swimming and fishing with you. How does that sound?”

“Okay.” He started to back out of the car, but she grabbed the edge of his jacket. “Will you tuck me in tonight and read me a story, like Grandma always does?”

That was the sweetest request he'd ever had. “You bet. And I plan to do that every night from now on.”

Stroking her hair, he eased out of the backseat and shut the door. So far, so good.

Nevertheless, he was supremely grateful for the lifeline Kate had thrown him by offering to help if problems arose.

Because he had a feeling it was only a matter of time before he found himself in deep water—and sinking fast.

 

Of all the rotten luck.

As Kate secured the last mooring line to a cleat on the finger pier, she surveyed the
Lucy Sue.
Thanks to Chester, the engine was purring along. The teak trim was pristine. And she'd defy anyone to find fault with the deck after her liberal applications of elbow grease.

The problem lay under the water.

After a close encounter of the expensive kind with a wayward piece of flotsam on her way back from Great Point, her propeller now had a sizable ding. Translation: a big-bucks repair.

Once the charter season kicked in, the cost wouldn't be such an issue. But with the bluefish still making their way back to Nantucket from the warmer Florida waters where they wintered, it would be four or five more weeks before there were sufficient quantities of them to interest visitors in a fishing outing.

Disgusted, she gave the hitch knot one final tug, shoved her hands into the pockets of her slicker and trudged down Straight Wharf and onto Main Street, oblivious to the steady drizzle as she debated her options.

“Kate!”

The familiar baritone voice jerked her out of her reverie, and she lifted her head. Although she hadn't run into Craig since the pizza party at Edith's four days ago, he'd made regular appearances in her thoughts.

As he waved at her from his car and slowed to a crawl, she picked up her pace.

“Sorry if I startled you.” His discerning blue eyes appraised her as she drew close. “You look upset. Is everything okay?”

She lifted one shoulder. “Depends on how you define okay. I just dinged my propeller.”

“How bad is it?”

“Bad enough. She's running very rough.”

“What happened?”

“I hit something out by Great Point.”

“Not good.”

“I'll say. And my pocketbook will agree.”

The rain intensified, and she flipped up the hood on her slicker. “I better run. And you're holding up traffic.”

He checked his rearview mirror. “I only see one vehicle, and it's not even close. Where are you headed?”

“Home.”

“Where's your car?”

“Also home. I usually walk to the wharf.” A gust of wind whipped past, flapping her slicker, and she dipped her head.

“Not the best idea today. You'll get drenched. Hop in and I'll give you a lift.”

“I'm used to walking in worse weather than this. Besides, I don't want to take you away from your work.”

“It's not a big deal. I was going to visit the Loran station, but I'm not keen on driving all the way to 'Sconset in this weather anyway.”

She didn't blame him for that. The tower for the Coast Guard's Long Range Navigation station was on a small coast road at the far eastern end of the island, a good seven miles from Nantucket town. It would be a slow, tedious trip for a newcomer—especially if fog rolled in, as it was apt to do.

Another blast of wind whipped past, and Kate capitulated to reason. “Okay. Thanks.”

Circling the car, she slid in as he opened the door for her from the inside.

“Whew. This one blew in fast.” She pushed back the hood of her slicker and tried to finger comb her hair, but it was hopeless. Damp weather always made her fiery locks go berserk.

She looked over at Craig to find him watching her. And the appreciative warmth in his eyes befuddled her. How could he possibly find anything in her bedraggled state to admire? Yet Mac had often worn that same expression, she recalled. That was one of the things she'd loved about him. Even on days when she'd looked a wreck, he'd always seen past the externals and loved her for what was on the inside.

Tucking her hand in her lap, she decided they both needed a distraction. “How are you doing with Vicki?”

Turning his attention back to the road, he eased the car over the uneven cobblestones at a slow crawl. “Better than I expected. She still doesn't talk much, but she's eating okay. And she loves going to Edith's. Actually, I'm glad I ran into
you. I was going to call in a day or two anyway. In case you haven't noticed, she and Maddie have become fast friends.”

Kate smiled. “I've noticed. That's all Maddie talks about. It's ‘Vicki and I did this,' and ‘Vicki said that,' and ‘why can't Vicki stay for dinner?'”

“Yeah. I've heard the same things. Since this is her first weekend here, I thought it might help to set up a playdate. I must confess I haven't a clue how to keep her entertained for two whole days on my own.”

“You don't have to entertain children every minute.”

“I know. But I want to be fully engaged with her until she settles in. Anyway, if it would be okay, I thought I could take them both home with me after church and drop Maddie off at your house later in the afternoon.”

“Sure. That would work. And if you don't have dinner plans for that night, why don't you stay and eat with us?”