Jameson left, wishing he could pull her into his arms and kiss her goodbye.Little steps, he reminded himself.
“How did your day go?”Thomas asked Caroline as she brought him a cup of tea.
“She showed me a few moves. Since I did better this morning, Victoria left me to keep practicing on my own. I have my counseling appointment in another hour, and then I’ll get to it,” she informed him as she sat across from him.
“I’m proud of you, Honeybee. I’ve worried about you. You’re strong like your mother,” he said proudly.
“Don’t worry, Dad,” she implored. “I’m working on things. It’s not easy, but others have it a lot worse.”
“There’s my Caroline, always thinking of others,” he boasted. “I’m blessed you’ve come back to me after all this time. I can rest at peace, knowing you’re safe. I only wish for your happiness.”
“I’ll get there someday. After all, you saw Victoria. She and Ivan seem very happy, like you and Mom,” she said, biting into the apple she brought with her.
“Have you spoken with Jameson? He hasn’t stopped by for the last couple of days,” Thomas said, frowning.
“He guarded the house last night,” she said casually. “He left when Victoria and Ivan showed up this morning.”
Thomas sipped his tea, eyeing her with a parental gaze.
“Jameson seems like a man who has known pain. It’s hard for a young man growing up with a father like James. From what I recall, I didn’t know Jameson existed until later. James always boasted about Phillip. He was a rotten little boy when James brought him to the office. He stole items off desks and deliberately shattered a handmade art project my secretary’s son made for her before he died in a car accident. The woman remained inconsolable for weeks.”
“How terrible,” she said, imagining living under James Stanton’s roof as his son. “Maybe he learned the behavior from his father.”
Thomas shook his head. “No. Something about him seemed unnatural. Phillip liked to hurt people at a young age. I recall my partner talking about him getting expelled from several schools. Perhaps it’s a good thing Jameson didn’t get raised by his father.”
“His mother didn’t seem much better,” she pondered.
“It’s too bad,” Thomas commiserated. “He’s spending his life saving those his father destroyed. He deserves some kindness in his life.”
“I know where you’re going with this,” she warned. “Please respect my feelings, Dad.”
“I do. It’s hard to watch you struggle. Jameson wants to make you happy,” he told her gently.
“I want to create my own happiness. I don’t need a man to do it,” she said firmly.
Thomas smothered his laughter at her feisty reply. “All right, I’ll change the subject. What shall we have for dinner? Nancy went shopping and planned to meet her son. I told her not to worry about us. We can fend for ourselves.”
“I’m up for anything. Hey, I have an idea. After dinner, why don’t we play cards like we used to?” she said excitedly.
“Oh, I haven’t played our game in forever. It’s a brilliant idea,” he said, grinning.
Caroline checked her phone. “It’s almost dinnertime. I’ll check what we have in the kitchen and get started. Will you stay out of trouble if I leave you alone?” she asked, caressing his cheek.
Thomas took her hand and kissed it. “You’re my greatest joy,” he murmured. “I’ll eat whatever you make. I’m anticipating beating you at cards,” he teased.
“You wish, Dad. Don’t cry to Nancy when she gets home about how badly I thrashed you,” she giggled, heading into the house to check the fridge. She opened the door and scanned the food items. Deciding on a stir fry, she took out some veggies and a pack of chicken.
As she pulled the cutting board from the cabinet, the doorbell rang. She walked to the door, and her heart raced. Why did something as simple as answering a door scare her?
“Who is it?” she called as she glanced out the front window.
“It’s me, Caroline,” Jameson answered. “Nancy mentioned she planned to visit her son. I brought you and your father dinner.”
Letting her heart rate slow, she unlocked the door and opened it.
Jameson stepped inside and set the bags on the floor. He cupped her face, searching her eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked firmly in a tone she only heard when he saw a woman hurt or a child cry.
“It’s stupid.”
