“THEY SAID OUR DOCUMENTATION wasn’t complete.”
“I talked to the new supervisor this morning.” Adam sat at his office desk talking on his cell phone to a very worried Carl Andersen, Mirabelle’s mayor. The federal and state funding for the Mirabelle project was getting held up over a couple of invoices. “Phyllis already refaxed everything to their offices in Madison. We should be set.”
“Do you think the money will fall through?”
“No, don’t worry about it, Carl.”
“But what if…”
Adam had a meeting in two minutes down at Setterberg’s building, but he couldn’t very well cut the man off. While Carl continued talking, he pushed away from his desk and headed out of his office. “I’ll be down on Main if you need me,” he mouthed to Phyllis before stepping outside.
“Carl, we’re doing everything we’re supposed to be doing. They’re just having transition problems with new staffing. Give them time to work through the wrinkles.”
He’d gotten less than a block away from his office, when Phyllis came out of the trailer. “Adam!” He turned to find her running toward him carrying the phone. By the look on her face, it was urgent. “You’re going to want to take this.”
“Carl, I have to go. I’ll let you know when I hear back from Madison.” He shut off his cell phone and took the office phone from Phyllis. “Harding here.”
“Adam Harding?”
“This is.” Adam held the phone up to his ear, but could barely hear the voice on the other end of the line over the sound of a truck backing up less than a block away. “Could you hold on a minute, please?” Unable to hear the response, he ran across the road and snuck into Newman’s grocery. “Okay, I’m here. Sorry about that.”
“No problem,” the woman said. “This is Peg Ackerman, principal at Mirabelle Elementary.”
“Are Wyatt and Julia okay?”
“They’re fine, but we had a…situation over recess.”
Adam held his breath. Other than calls from nurses the few times Julia had gotten sick through the years, he’d never been contacted before by a school. A principal calling could be nothing but bad news.
“Apparently,” she went on, “one of the boys was teasing Wyatt. There was a fight on the playground. A fairly nasty one from all accounts. We have a couple of split lips here and a possible black eye.”
Wyatt. The boy had a temper, but Adam never would’ve expected this.
“Can you come to my office to talk?”
“Absolutely. When?”
“I think it’s best you come as soon as you can.”
“I’ll be right there.” Adam hung up the phone, told Phyllis he’d be unavailable for the next two hours and walked swiftly toward school.
The administrative offices were just inside the main entrance to the building. Before Adam made it to the receptionist’s desk, the principal had come out of her office and introduced herself. Then she led Adam into her office. He stepped through the door and stopped dead in his tracks.
Julia, not Wyatt, sat in the corner chair sniffling. Her cheeks were blotchy, her eyes red and puffy, her lower lip swollen and caked with a bit of dried blood, and at the sight of her a fury like nothing Adam had ever known coursed through him.
He knew it was sexist, he knew it was inappropriate on many levels, but Wyatt getting into a fight, either defending himself or starting one, seemed, while not acceptable, at least more predictable. Boys were physical. They tended to fight more. But this was Julia. His daughter. Someone had hit his little girl.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Julia cried, and ran to him.
As he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly, he did his best to defuse the anger building inside him. “It’s all right, Julia. You’re all right.” Then he glared at the principal. “Who hit my daughter?”
“Why don’t you take a seat, Mr. Harding, and we can—”
“I want to know who hit my daughter.”
“Another second grade boy pushed her. She fell and hit her mouth on the edge of a slide.”
“Where is he? Have you talked to his parents?”
“Mr. Harding, please sit down.”
“Is he still here—”
“Mr. Harding. While the other boy is not blameless, he did not hit Julia. Julia hit him.”
More than a little shocked, Adam held the principal’s even gaze. “You’re trying to tell me that my daughter threw the first punch?”
“That’s the account that has been given by all involved parties.”
Adam turned to his daughter. “Is that the truth? Did you start this fight?”
“He asked for it.”
“What happened, Julia?”
“I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“Just tell me what happened.”
“He was teasing Wyatt. Cody was. He’s been teasing Wyatt since the first day of school when Wyatt threw up in the hall.” Suddenly, her tears dried and her brow furrowed with anger. “I kept asking him to stop, but he wouldn’t. So I told the playground monitor, and she gave him a couple time-outs. But as soon as he came back to the swings he’d go right after Wyatt again.”
“Every day?”
“Just some days.”
“Honey, why didn’t you or Wyatt say anything to me?”
“You’re always so busy, Daddy, so I took care of it myself.” She frowned. “I know I’m not supposed to hit, but I just…I just got so…mad.”
She clenched her jaw shut. He’d never seen her like this. Her hands were curled into fists. Her eyes piercing and intimidating. She was a mass of emotion, seething and out of control.
“And Wyatt? Was he involved in what happened today?”
“I told him to stay back. That I’d take care of him.”
Her actions were wrong, but Adam was just a little bit proud of his daughter for standing up for her brother.
“I think it’s best if Julia spends the rest of the afternoon with you, Mr. Harding, to discuss alternatives to what happened today.” The principal said to Julia, “Why don’t you go get your things from your locker and wait in the hall while your dad and I talk?”
His daughter nodded and left the room. Once Julia was in the hall, he and the principal discussed the school’s disciplinary policy. Julia as well as the other boy involved would both be required to spend two recesses inside in a type of detention, and that sounded reasonable.
“Who’s the boy she hit?” Adam asked.
“Cody Stall.”
Bud Stall was the community center manager and, as far as Adam could tell, a good man. Adam felt sure the other father would do his best to handle his side of this situation.
“Maybe it would be best if we could talk a little bit about what’s going on with Julia,” the principal said.
“She’s a good girl.” Adam shook his head. “I’ve never had any problems at any of the other schools with her lashing out like this.”
“You move a lot?”
“It’s my job. It’s what I do.”
“I understand, but that kind of constant change can be stressful on children. How are things at home?”
“No family is perfect,” Adam said, feeling defensive, but he wasn’t going to pull the widower card looking for sympathy. “We have our shares of ups and downs, but we manage. Now if there isn’t anything else—”
“I don’t mean to pry, but Julia’s mother? I understand she passed away some time ago?”
Okay, that’s it. “Julia’s mother is none of your business. Julia was protecting her little brother from, it sounds like, a bully. I’m not condoning her actions. I don’t hit anyone at my house, so you can rest assured that I won’t tolerate my kids hitting other kids. The fact remains that if you didn’t have this bully on the playground, we wouldn’t be having this discussion now, would we?”
“No.” She sighed. “But if Julia, or for that matter Wyatt, ever need to talk, we have different counseling options avail—”
“Julia’s fine. So is Wyatt.” Adam stood. “Now are we finished here?”
“Apparently.”
He stalked out of the room. “You ready, Julia? We’re going home.” Unaccustomed as Adam was to anger, it took him most of the distance to their house to calm himself.
“I’m really, really sorry to cause a problem, Daddy,” Julia said, running up the stairs. Then the door to her bedroom slammed shut and all was quiet.
His first impulse was to go into his office and check his emails and voice messages. To work. He told himself it would do Julia some good to let her settle down some before they talked, but that was a lie. Work would be Adam’s escape, not Julia’s.
He paced through the house and the truth slowly but surely sunk in. He’d changed since Beth’s death. Changing as a man was one thing, but what kind of father had he become? This father, this man who kept his distance, who let nannies and babysitters take care of more than just the everyday tasks, wasn’t the Adam he knew. This man he’d become wasn’t the father Julia and Wyatt deserved.
What would Beth do?
She’d be there. She’d listen. Adam climbed the steps and knocked softly on Julia’s bedroom door. “Julia, can we talk?” He turned the knob and found his daughter curled up on her bed. He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the mattress. “I’m not mad at you, honey.”
“You looked mad.”
“I wasn’t mad at you.” Admitting he was mad at the principal, at the situation, at the little boy teasing Wyatt would stir up a whole other can of worms. “You know you’re not supposed to hit. You made a mistake. Are you going to do it again?”
His daughter shook her head.
“Even if that boy teases Wyatt again?”
“No.”
“Well, there you go.” They talked about options for how to handle Cody in the future. Adam brushed Julia’s hair away from her forehead and his daughter’s shoulders shook as a new round of tears flowed. He pulled Julia into his arms, held her and rocked her. “I want you to know that no matter how busy I am, I always, always have time for you and Wyatt. So if you have a problem at school, I will drop whatever I’m doing and you can talk to me about it, okay?”
“Okay.”
“My job here on Mirabelle is important, but not as important as you and Wyatt.”
She shuddered in his arms and a fresh round of tears started.
“I love you, Julia, and there is nothing you could do that will make me stop loving you. One way or another, we’re going to get through this.”
They sat there for a long, long while as Julia poured out her heart and soul. Adam couldn’t remember having ever held his daughter like this, but he wouldn’t be waiting for a crisis to hold her this way again.
PROPPED UP IN BED, MARIN finished the last line in the book she’d been reading and snapped the cover closed. Since she’d come to Mirabelle, when she hadn’t been painting, she’d burned through her sister’s bookcase full of romances and women’s fiction and then some. She was relaxed enough. She needed to do something. Exactly what, she wasn’t sure. Knowing some exercise might clear her head and allow for some direction, she put on her running gear and bounded downstairs.
“Going for a run?” her mother asked. “Would you mind walking Wyatt home from school today?”
“I’ll stop on my way home. Why just Wyatt?”
“I don’t know. Adam called a little while ago and said he was home with Julia. He said he wouldn’t need me this afternoon, but wondered if we could still pick up Wyatt.”
“Maybe Julia’s sick.”
“Could be.”
“Whatever. I’ll get Wyatt.”
Pacing herself, she went out the door and took off toward Island Drive. It felt good to be outside. Mirabelle was a pretty place even with the trees bare and the colorful garden mums withering from the chilly nights of late autumn. Before she knew it, she’d passed the picturesque Mirabelle Island Inn, its white gazebo down by the shore now fully restored, compliments of Adam’s work crews. At the golf course more of Adam’s crews were laying sod and planting trees, work that most likely needed to be finished before the first snow flew and the ground froze. And at Mirabelle Stable and Livery, even more of Adam’s men were rebuilding a barn that the tornado had apparently decimated. Evidence of Adam’s impact on Mirabelle appeared to be everywhere she looked.
What would Mirabelle do without Adam Harding?
Suddenly, she felt horrible for the things she said to him about being an absent father. It wasn’t as simple as him being a workaholic. He had an incredibly important and demanding job that touched a lot of people’s lives. If he failed, Mirabelle’s businesses failed. This island would wither and die. No wonder he took his work so seriously. She ran a little faster, trying to puzzle out a solution. There wasn’t one. He needed a nanny. Or a wife. The idea of Adam with another woman settled like a rock in the pit of her stomach.
Feeling her body just about running out of steam, she turned around and headed toward the elementary school. She ran up the entrance to the little school and managed to get in a few stretches before Maddie showed up. They chatted while other parents arrived. Then the bell rang, the doors opened and general mayhem ensued. The older kids, kids who didn’t need escorts, took off across the school lawn toward home. The younger kids all seemed to be looking for a familiar face.
Marin spotted Wyatt right away. “Wyatt!” she called.
He grinned and ran at her, his backpack looking way too big for his little body.
“So.” She smiled. “How’d your day go?”
“I got to sit next to Abby during the sixth and seventh grader’s play today.”
“That’s cool. Julia’s already home with your dad, right?”
“Yeah. My teacher said he came to pick her up and take her home.”
Marin waved at Maddie, and she and Wyatt headed down the sidewalk toward their houses. “Why? What happened?”
He frowned and told her there’d been a fight at recess. “Cody was teasing me about throwing up on my first day of school.”
“I did that, too, on my first day,” Marin said, chuckling. “I think that happens to a lot of kids.”
“Yeah, well, he’s been bugging me about it ever since. Julia couldn’t stand it anymore. She punched him.”
“What!”
“You should’ve seen it.” His eyes lit up with pride. “She told him to knock it off. He said ‘make me.’ And bam! She punched him right in the face. Twice!”
Oh, no. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah. Cody pushed her back, and she hit the slide. Her mouth started bleeding.”
By this time they’d arrived at their houses. Wyatt ran up the sidewalk and raced through the front door. “Julia!”
“She’s up here.” Adam’s voice sounded from inside.
Marin came to the door in time to see Wyatt drop his backpack and race upstairs just as Adam was coming down the stairs. He gave her a slight smile. “I suppose you heard what happened.”
“Wyatt told me. Is she okay?”
“She’s fine.”
“Are you okay?” she whispered.
“I need to apologize to you.” He held her gaze. “Wyatt’s been getting teased since the first day of school and they never told me because I’m too busy. You were right that other night. About me not being—”
She held up her hand. “I was out of line. I grew up with an absent father. He did his best when he was around, but that wasn’t very often. And I know what it’s like to be a workaholic. I’ve been in a ten-, twelve-hour workday job. So I guess a little of my own issues got tossed into that mix. Your job is different than mine was. Other people’s livelihoods are at stake. I get—”
“Marin.” He took her hand in his, making her immediately snap her mouth closed. “My job is demanding, but at the end of the day, it’s a job. Julia and Wyatt are my life. I’d lost sight of that, so thank you for reminding me.”
“Can I see her?”
“Sure.”
Marin went up the steps and down the hall to Julia’s room. Julia’s lower lip was slightly swollen, but her eyes were worse. She’d probably been crying the entire afternoon. “Hey,” Marin said as she stepped into the room and went to sit on the bed. “How you doing?”
“Okay.”
Wyatt was sitting next to her with a book in his lap. “Marin threw up, too,” he said. “On her first day of school.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. Got teased, too, of course.”
“I’ll bet you didn’t hit anyone.”
“No, but I wanted to. Joel Strathmore. I wanted to punch him good.” She smiled at Julia. “If he’d been teasing my little brother, Max, I just might’ve hit him.”
Tears welled anew in Julia’s eyes.
“It’s going to be all right,” Marin said, hugging her.
“No. It’s not,” she whispered. “Because I miss Mommy, and she’s never coming back.”
At that, Wyatt started crying, too. Both kids ended up in her arms, and she was completely at a loss as to what to do.
Adam came into the room and stood watching them for a moment. Then he came forward. “I got this,” he said, taking her hand and disentangling her from the kids. Then he sat, taking her place and wrapping his arms around both kids. “We all miss Mommy,” he whispered. “Some days are worse than others, and that’s okay because it shows we loved her…”
As Marin slipped away, Adam caught her gaze. His eyes were clear, his demeanor filled with purpose, and there was no doubt in her mind that Julia and Wyatt’s dad was back.
ANGELICA CONTEMPLATED the Harding house through the side window. Marin had come home with Wyatt some time ago and had, surprisingly, gone inside the house. Maybe Angelica’s tactics were finally paying off.
She wasn’t playing matchmaker. She was just ensuring that Marin and Adam were forced to deal with one another. If those two were meant to be together, and Angelica had the distinct feeling they were, they’d figure it out on their own.
The front doorbell rang, abruptly putting an end to the silence and Angelica’s musings.
A man stood on the porch, his body casting a distinctive shadow over the front door sheers. That height. Those shoulders. Anger flashed through her and she embraced that emotion with everything in her. She was going to need that edge for this conversation. She yanked open the door. “Arthur, what in the world are you doing here?”
“That’s it?” He stood there in black dress pants and a golf shirt, overnight bag in hand, looking distinctly irritated. “No hello? No hug? Nothing?”
“You shouldn’t have come.”
For a moment, he only studied her, as if deciding his best plan of attack. “Did you really expect me to just roll over? To let you have your way?”
“Expect? No. Hope? Yes.”
“You’re acting like a child.”
At that, she stepped out onto the porch and shut the door behind her. “The only children around here are our two grandbabies sleeping next door.” There was no way this man was going to be invited into her house, rental or not.
“Angie, stop this nonsense and come home.”
“You are the most stubborn, the most arrogant man I’ve ever known. These traits have served you well in congress, but they get you absolutely nowhere with me.”
“Listen to—”
“No.” She held firm. “I’ve told you what I need from you. If it’s not something you can provide gracefully, then there’s no point in us…there’s no point in us being together.”
He pressed his lips together as if he was holding in his emotions. That’s when she noticed his skin was just a bit sallow and his eyes looked bloodshot. Hangover? No, damn him, it was possible he’d been crying.
For a moment, she softened. She’d spent so many years with this man. Two-thirds of her life. They’d cried and laughed together as they’d raised four children. And here he was, bent low, looking broken and alone. But had he changed? Did he understand? No. If she gave in, everything would go back to the way it had always been and she could not live like that. Not anymore. “Goodbye, Arthur.” She turned.
“You can’t get rid of me this easily, Angie,” he said. “I’m not going back to D.C. I’ll be staying here as long as it takes.”
“Suit yourself. There are several inns and hotels on the island. Good luck finding a room.” Without looking back, she went into the house and firmly locked the door.