THREE
CLAIRE PULLED INTO THE PARKING lot at Oakwood Manor and turned off the car. She’d left Luke’s penthouse, stopping at her place long enough to change her clothes before making the drive to see her dad. Her apartment felt more like a closet than a home. She’d been spending so much time at Luke’s; she hadn’t been using her place as much more than a stop in. Up until the fight yesterday, she’d been more shocked by how little it bothered her than by how easily it had happened.
It still floored her how much everything changed in twenty-four hours. Climbing out of Luke’s bed that morning left her feeling raw. There had been so many times when they were making love that she’d wanted to tell him that she loved him. For a moment she’d been sure he was about to say it. She saw it in his eyes when he moved inside her, but he held back. Anyway, maybe it was her love for him she saw reflected there, and there was no way she’d say it again. Once out on that limb by herself was more than enough.
Holding in her feelings left her uncertain and on shaky footing, a situation only exacerbated by the fact that she had to deal with the aftermath of Pete’s death. Including what, if anything, to tell her father. Pete and her dad had been close – friends. He’d want to know what happened, but that was only if he was clear enough to remember who Pete was.
God, she hated the fucking disease that was stealing her father from her. In some ways she thought losing him in bits and pieces was worse than if he’d just died. But then he’d have a clear day, and it was like she had her daddy back again. She’d just have to decide what to do when she got inside and saw what kind of day he was having. Taking a deep slow breath, she straightened the gray silk blouse and climbed out of her car, running a hand over the black pencil skirt to smooth away the wrinkles from sitting.
The clothes were the ones Luke had gotten for her when they went to New York. With the things she had to do, they seemed more appropriate than her normal work clothes, and ridiculously they made her feel closer to him. She had no idea what she and Luke were doing or what to think about everything that had happened the day before. The only thing she was sure of was that she felt better in Luke’s arms than anywhere on earth, and when he moved inside her, it was like parts of her which had been out of alignment for years slid into place.
She pushed open the door, stepping into a hallway that smelled like vegetable soup and antiseptic. Walking as fast as her heels would let her, she hurried past Mr. Easton’s office. The smarmy little man had some kind of crush on Luke and the last thing she wanted to do was get stuck answering endless questions about Mr. Masters. She made her way to the nurse’s station in her father’s hall and found Becky standing there in her white shoes and nurse’s smock polka dotted with tiny pink hearts.
“Good Lord, child,” she said when she glanced up from her papers and saw Claire. “Don’t you look pretty.” The middle aged woman looked her up and down and came out from behind the counter. “But tired,” she said, keeping her far too perceptive gaze on Claire’s face. “Did something happen, honey? Are things with that hot young man of yours still okay?”
Claire gave Becky a small smile, not sure how to answer when she had absolutely no idea what was going on with the hot young man in question. “He’s okay. It’s something else,” she said and then it occurred to her that she didn’t have to make the decision about what to tell her dad by herself. Becky probably knew better than she did what she should tell him. “Becky, can I ask your advice?”
“Of course, ask away.”
“One of my guys died on the job yesterday.” She swallowed hard, fighting back the tears. Saying it out loud brought it all rushing back.
“Oh, honey,” said Becky, laying a hand on Claire’s arm, her dark eyes filled with sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too. Pete,” she said. “His name was Pete. He was with my dad from the beginning and I’m not sure what if anything I should tell Daddy about what happened. I don’t know if he’ll even remember him, but they were really close. Not telling him doesn’t seem right either.”
“I see what you mean,” she said thoughtfully.
Claire appreciated that she was taking her time to consider the situation and not rushing to answer.
“I think you should tell him.” she finally said. “He’s good today. He would want to know, and I know you don’t want to have to lie to him. Not any more often than you already have.”
She gave Claire’s arm another squeeze, and she knew the other woman was thinking of all the times Claire pretended her mother was still alive to keep from upsetting her father.
“I can come in with you if you’d like.”
“No, that’s okay. I can do it.”
“Okay, honey. I’ll check in on you in a little while. Call if you need anything.”
“Thanks,” said Claire, managing a smile. She rounded the corner and rapped softly on her father’s door, pushing it open when she heard his “come in.”
“Hey, pumpkin,” he said, his eyes lighting up when he saw her.
There were so few days anymore when her father’s mind was in the correct place and time, but the man looking up at her with love shining in his eyes was the man who’d raised her, who’d worked alongside her and been proud of everything she accomplished. He was the man who’d loved her mother every day of her life. Tears flooded her eyes, and before she could stop them, they spilled over, trailing down her cheeks. She swiped at them with the back of her hand, but she couldn’t seem to stop crying.
“What is it, Claire?” her father asked, concern evident in his clear green eyes.
“Oh, Daddy,” she said, sinking onto the edge of the bed nearest to his chair. “It’s Pete. There was an accident at the jobsite. He died.”
Her father reached for her hands, not speaking for a moment as the tears rolled down her cheeks. She waited to see if the news would throw him back into the place he sometimes retreated to or if he would stay in the present with her.
“The Ashton Court job?” he asked.
Despite the awfulness of everything which had happened, knowing her father understood what was going on – that she wasn’t on her own – let something deep in her chest relax a bit.
She nodded, pulling one hand free to swipe at her tears. “He fell.”
Her father drew in a breath, his frail shoulders expanding with the effort. It was one more example of the disease that was slowly eating away at the once powerful man. Growing up, she couldn’t imagine a man stronger than her father. Working side by side with him on jobsites, she’d seen that strength in action.
