The next morning, Daniel woke to the sound of Nic talking with Bentley in the other room. She had gotten up early and when he’d stirred, she’d told him to go back to sleep. He drifted back into dreamland.
He woke a bit later and looked around the bright, sunny space. He recognized Nic’s furniture from her tiny place in Old Town. This condo was several times the size of her Alexandria apartment.
From what she’d told him yesterday, she’d made the move to Warfield’s Landing about a week ago. He’d been impressed at how completely she was moved in. When he and Luke moved into their condos years ago, it had taken him months to get unpacked and organized.
He heard a door snick shut and realized that Nic was taking Bentley outside. Feeling guilty he sat up and looked for his clothes.
He padded out to the living area and found that Nic, bless her heart, had left coffee and a note. She and Bentley were going to bring back breakfast from the Riverside Cafe.
His phone rang. Luke.
“Hey!”
“How’s it going? Since you and Bentley didn’t come home, I’m assuming that she was too nice to toss you on your ass like you deserve?”
“She was... and believe me, I intend to remember and appreciate her graciousness... Thank god, she’s a dog lover.”
Luke laughed long and hard. “It sounds to me like you owe Bentley big time... maybe you need to invest in an avocado ranch.”
“Ha! I can’t believe that avocados are good for dogs. Anyway, one of Nic’s many house plants is an avocado and she’s already explained to Bentley that we do not eat family members.”
“I love it. Tell Nic I said hi and I look forward to meeting her... soon. Take care, man.”
Daniel put the phone away and poured a mug of coffee. Sipping it, he wandered around the living room, looking at the sketches on the walls, and the books in the bookcase. When he’d been in Nic’s Old Town apartment, things happened so fast, he hadn’t gotten a feel for her living space.
On impulse, he stepped into the room Nic was using as her studio. The work table was covered with sketches, mostly landscapes. He recognized the ruins of the abutments for the Port Deposit Bridge and views of Port Deposit from this side of the Susquehanna.
There were a couple of sketchbooks on the table and with only the slightest prickle of conscience, he leafed through them.
He frowned as he realized that some of them had been defaced. Maybe when her studio was vandalized?
In one he was startled to find sketches of himself. Red marker had been scribbled over lively sketches. Instantly he knew that Nic hadn’t done it... no matter how upset with him she might have been.
A couple of the drawings were of him in her Old Town bedroom. She must have sketched them the one time he spent the night there. Others were obviously drawn from memory.
He closed the ruined pad and idly flipped the cover sheet on a matted drawing.
He froze. It was a brilliant sketch of Nic. Nic asleep... and it was signed by Max Hayes. The bare shoulder and the beautifully rendered sheet told the story of lovers. The exquisite detail clearly demonstrated the love of the artist for his dreaming model.
He stared... sick... CeeCee had been right. Nic and Max had been having an affair.
“Daniel?” He heard Nic through a haze of pain and he felt a large furry head nudge his hand.
“Daniel, are you alright?” Nic moved over to the work table. She glanced down at the drawing. To his horror, a look of guilt crossed her face. She reached out and slid the drawing around so she could see it, too. “I guess it’s time we had a talk about this.”
“I guess so.” There was a harsh rasp to his voice.
“In my defense, I had planned to tell you everything after that first night together, but Courtney called and your car was vandalized. Then... I was going to tell you when you got back from that last trip. I just couldn’t tell you over Skype.”
Nic picked up the sketch and carried it out of the studio. Daniel followed her and Bentley followed him. How absurd, he thought. Your life implodes and there’s a parade.
“Do you want coffee? Oh, you have some.”
Surprised, Daniel realized he still clutched his coffee. He moved toward the couch and sat stiffly, holding the mug between both hands. It was a bright, warm July morning, but he was chilled from the inside out.
Nic was rustling around in the kitchen. A few minutes later, she came out with a mug of her own. Gracefully, she folded herself into the mamasan chair and started talking.
“I met Max when I was in grad school. He’d attended VCU years earlier. I think the first time, he was in Richmond making arrangements for a show at the Virginia Museum. He saw me, I guess.”
Daniel was still in shock. He sat and prepared to listen to the confession he never wanted to hear...
Would he tell CeeCee?
No.
He couldn’t...
And he’d make sure that Nic never told her. His jaw tightened. He’d sit here and listen to this terrible confession, then he’d take his dog and leave. He never wanted to see Nic again.
“... my father?” Nic finished and looked at him expectantly.
He stared at her.
“Well?” she asked impatiently.
“Well, what?” Daniel realized that he’d been so lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t heard what she said.
“I was asking if you thought this was a good time to tell Courtney that Max was my father, or if I should wait until she’s less upset?”
“Max is your father?” Daniel sounded the words carefully. He was speaking English and Nic was speaking English, but nothing made sense.
Max was her father?
Then what about the sketch?
He must have asked the question, because this time she was the one parroting back.
“What about the sketch?” She sounded confused.
“What about that sketch of you?” Daniel pointed to it, on the coffee table between them.
Now it was her turn to look at him uncomprehendingly. “What...” she started, her eyes following his finger.
She leaned forward and picked it up, flipping the cover back. “What about it?” She looked at it and frowned, then her face cleared and to his disgust, she began to laugh.
He scowled as her laughter chimed through the room.
Excited, Bentley got up from his spot on the rug and nudged at her. She petted the big golden head while she hiccupped to a stop.
Daniel crossed his arms over his chest, and barked, “Explain, please.”
Her eyes widened at his tone, then narrowed. “I did just explain... but somehow you seemed to have missed it. I’ll explain again, and this time you can pay attention.”
She spoke tightly. “I’ll give you the Cliff Notes version... Maxfield Hayes was my birth father. I didn’t know about it until he found me when I was in grad school.”
She picked up the sketch and held it up beside her face, her finger pointing at it, like a pre-school teacher reading a picture book. “This is my mother. See the mole beside her eye? Max drew this more than 30 years ago... see the date under his signature?”
She flipped the cover closed and frisbeed the drawing to the coffee table.
Now she crossed her arms over her chest, and challenged him, “Any questions?”
Her tone was a slap across his face. Abruptly, he realized what an asshole he was being... again. Almost immediately, relief flooded his body. He hadn’t been wrong. She hadn’t had an affair with Max.
She was his daughter.
Holy shit.