By Saturday, the situation between the two girls had not improved, and Gibson was a desperate man.
“You used to have so much fun with Nicole,” he said to Allie as he combed her hair. “What changed? Did you have an argument?”
Allie swung her feet, remaining mute. She was wearing the new skirt and top she’d received from her grandma for her birthday, and to him she looked absolutely adorable. Even with a fat pout on her lips.
“Pumpkin, I want this to be fun. For all of us.”
“Then let me stay at Grandma’s or go to Ardis’s.”
Gibson checked an impatient reply. Libby had no baby-sitter, or he’d be delighted to comply with Allie’s request. What he really wanted was time alone with Libby. But the realities of being single parents dictated otherwise.
“Please try to have a good time, pumpkin. Okay?”
Libby and Nicole were waiting on the porch when he drove up in the truck, a silent Allie by his side. Two brown-eyed, curly-haired beauties. As usual, Libby didn’t have to do much in terms of makeup or glitzy clothes to look fantastic. His heart skipped, along with his feet, as he hurried out to meet them.
“Sony I’m a little late.” Allie had made a fuss about which shoes to wear. He couldn’t have cared less but had been forced to wait as she changed her mind not once but a total of three times.
Now his adrenaline soared as the evening he’d been so anticipating was finally about to begin. Knowing he was grinning like a brainless fool, but unable to stop himself, he opened the front passenger door for Libby.
“Why don’t you move to the back with Nicole, pumpkin?”
“Can’t I sit up here with you?”
His daughter’s refusal caught him by surprise. He glanced over at Libby, expecting her to back him up, but instead she demurred. “That’s okay, Gibson. I’ll sit with Nicole in the back.”
What the hell... Gibson wasn’t sure what to do. Finally, he just gave in and got into the driver’s seat. On the drive he tried to joke with Nicole and tease a smile from her mother, but it was no use. Allie’s sullen presence set the mood. It didn’t improve at the movie theater when Libby snapped at Allie about the refreshments.
That was the last thing he would’ve expected from her. He paid for the tickets, so she insisted on buying the snacks. While he and the girls reserved seats, she went through the lineup to get popcorn and drinks for all of them. When she came back, Allie changed her mind and decided she’d rather have a chocolate bar than popcorn.
True, it was annoying, but it wasn’t a big deal. He was amazed at the way Libby plunked down in her seat.
“I’m sorry, Allie, but you did say popcorn.”
“I’ll buy one for you, pumpkin,” he offered. “I don't mind missing the first couple of minutes of the movie,” he explained. However, Libby, who was closer to the aisle, was already rising again.
“If you want her to have the bar, I’ll get it,” she said tersely.
“I don’t mind—” He tried to stop her, but she was already halfway up the aisle. Throughout the film they sat with Allie between them, and when the show was over Libby was clearly still cross. She barely spoke on the way to the pizza parlor. And that was when he knew his wonderful family outing was a total bust.
Libby wished that Gibson didn’t look so handsome in his pale-blue denim shirt and tan cotton slacks. She wished she didn’t long for him to smile at her, to reach across the table for her hand. She also wished that his obvious disappointment with the evening didn’t tug at her heart the way it did.
He’d been so excited when he’d jumped from his truck. His joy had been contagious—for one wild moment, anticipation had sizzled through her. Until Allie had refused to move to the back seat. Poor Nicole had been mortified at the undeniable insult
Allie’s sullen silence on the drive, her spoiled demands at the theater followed by her rude ignoring of both Nicole and Libby during dinner, had ruined everything. Now she and Nicole were playing at separate video terminals. And Libby had had enough. “I told you this would be a mistake.”
“I’m sorry.” Gibson was putting his coffee spoon through a series of headstands and somersaults on the vinyl place mat in front of him. “I know the evening hasn’t turned out the way I promised. Allie’s been temperamental—”
“Temperamental?” She’d vowed never to broach the subject of Allie with him, but she was past her breaking point “That’s not the word I would use to describe your daughter’s behavior.”
“No? What word would you use?” Gibson’s tone suggested she be careful what she said. But Libby had never felt less like being careful.
“How about selfish? Or spoiled? Or completely self-centered?”
Gibson recoiled, obviously hurt, as well as angered. After several agonizing seconds he shook his head. “You can’t mean that”
“Oh, yes, I do.”
His broad chest expanded, straining the buttons of his shirt “Okay, so Allie’s been difficult, but she’s just a kid. She probably senses something going on between us. We’ve got to give her time to adjust.”
“Gibson, this isn’t about you and me. Allie’s always been like this. Even your—” She stopped abruptly, putting a hand to her mouth. No way could she divulge Connie’s confidences. No matter how mad she became.
“I can’t believe you could be so judgmental about a motherless seven-year-old.”
“She may not have a mother, but she has a father.” Libby pointed her finger at him, stopping inches from his chest. “Stop making excuses, Gibson. The truth is she’s out of control and you’re not doing anything to stop her.”
Anger had the upper hand now, as Gibson’s face flushed and his mouth hardened. “I’m warning you, Libby. Don’t say another word against my daughter.”
“I’m not blaming Allie. She’s just a child, Gib. Don’t you see how you’re—”
“I said, enough.”
He was deadly serious. Libby had never seen him like this. But now that she’d started, she wasn’t going to back down.
“I have the right to protect my own daughter. Why don’t you try asking Allie what she’s been saying about Nicole at school? The answers might surprise you.”
Gibson blinked. A muscle twitched at the side of his mouth. “What are you talking about?”
With incredibly bad timing, their server suddenly appeared at Libby’s elbow. “A refill for your coffee?”
“No, thanks.” Libby couldn’t lift her gaze from the table. She was afraid Gibson might explode. And that she might burst into tears. “We’re ready for the check.”
Gibson whipped out his wallet “I’m paying.”
She didn’t dare argue.
“Can we go now?” Allie came out of nowhere, a quiet Nicole standing well behind her. I’m bored.”
“Watch your manners, Allie.”
Allie flinched at her father’s rebuke.
“That’s okay,” Libby said quickly. “Maybe we should leave. It’s getting close to the girls’ bedtime.”
“Not mine.” Gibson looked as though he could have strangled his daughter when she spoke up again in an insolent voice. “I get to stay up as late as I want on the weekends.”
“Really?” Libby didn’t care if Gibson heard the reproach in her tone.
“Now, that’s a bit of an exaggeration,” he said. “Let’s go, then.”
Libby put an arm over Nicole’s shoulders as they walked out. Undoubtedly, the children were aware of the tension between the adults, and she regretted having brought the subject up when they were around.
But she wasn’t sorry about the things she’d said. Now even Gibson would see how impossible a relationship between the two of them was. She climbed into the back seat with Nicole, not surprised when Allie began wailing because her father hadn’t bought her a bubble-gum on the way out.
“But Daddy!” she cried. “You always buy me gum after pizza.”
“Not always, Allie.” His voice was calm, but there was steel behind it. He leaned over to check her seat belt before starting the ignition. As he drove, Allie cried with little sobs that made her entire body tremble.
Libby suspected she wasn’t reacting to the bubble-gum so much as her father’s inexplicably hard behavior. She felt a genuine sympathy for the both of them. They had so much to work out. After ten, fifteen miles Allie finally fell asleep.
Libby caught Gibson’s glance in the rear-view mirror.
Happy? He seemed to be saying as he lifted his eyebrows. She turned her head to watch out the side window. The drive home from Yorkton had never felt longer.
After a polite, if insincere, thanks to Gibson for the movie and the pizza, Nicole shot off for the house. Libby hung around a few seconds longer. “I think it’s better that we don’t see each other for a while,” she suggested.
“No bloody kidding. Don’t tell me you didn’t have a good time.”
She didn’t say anything.
He curled his hands into fists, as he stared past her, to the place where his property met her father’s, across and down the road about a quarter mile.
After a long moment, his anger shifted. From the glow of the outdoor yard light, Libby saw true regret soften the line of his mouth. “For a while I thought we might have something special....”
He didn’t finish the sentence and she was glad. This was hurting so much more than she’d expected. She’d known from the start they had no future. To be disappointed was illogical.
“It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way,” he said. She knew exactly what he meant.
“We have to consider the kids,” she said. “This is only going to hurt them.”
“Maybe we should have tried going out just the two of us.”
“That wouldn’t have solved anything. Gib, you probably think I’m being callous, but somebody has to be realistic about this. A definite break now will be easier for all of us in the long run.”
“So that’s what this is? A definite break?”
God help her, he sounded as bleak as she felt. Was it possible she was wrong?
She only had to remember Darren to know that she wasn’t. “Yes,” she said.
Amazingly, her voice was steady and true. Still, she had to turn and run for the house so he wouldn’t see her tears.
In one night, Gibson felt he’d lost everything. Libby and his hopes for their future. Allie and his delusions that the two of them were getting along okay on their own.
His number-one goal since Rita’s death had been to do right by his daughter, yet somehow he’d failed. He’d tried to be mother and father and ended up being neither. Angry as he was at Libby for speaking out the way she had, he knew she was right.
He was spoiling his daughter. Why hadn’t anyone said anything sooner? He thought of several subtle comments made by his mother and realized she’d tried.
Sleep was impossible in his tormented state. Gibson didn’t even try to settle beneath his sheets. Instead, he paced the circumference of the farmyard, around the house and gardens, the barn and pasture.
He passed the coils of hay, stacked from last winter, and several granaries, empty in anticipation of harvest.
Stars were still visible in the sky when the first birds began to sing. Their chorus was nonstop by the time the eastern horizon turned a pale turquoise. He watched as a band of watermelon pink stretched out against the green of his new crop. Then he went inside and made a pot of coffee.
By six, daylight was well established and he was on the last cup.
His anger toward Libby had abated, although his resentment had not. True, his control over Allie was not what it should be. Maybe he gave in to her demands a little too often. Maybe he wasn’t firm enough in applying consequences when she was out of line.
And maybe sometimes he’d used material possessions in an attempt to compensate for the loss of her mother. He was willing to concede on that one, too.
But Libby didn’t understand how hard it was, raising a child without a mother. Sure Allie had him. Little girls needed their mamas, though. You’d think Libby, who’d had a close relationship with her own mother, would understand that.
When Allie woke up the chores were done and he had waffles and sausages ready. Allie’s favorite.
“I used to think Libby was really pretty,” Allie announced out of the blue, her mouth full of waffle. “But I don’t anymore.”
“Oh?”
“I think blond hair is much nicer than brown, don't you, Daddy? Mommy had blond hair just like mine, didn’t she?”
“Yes.” He reached across and rubbed the top of her head, wishing he could as easily erase whatever insecurities were driving her to make these comments.
“You’re beautiful, Allie, just like your mom. But brown hair can also be nice.” Especially when it had a wild curl to it that made it seem as if the woman had just gotten out of bed.
He chased the last drops of syrup on his plate with a final square from his waffle. One comment of Libby’s last night had been particularly bitter. Now he cleared his throat. “Allie, have you been saying mean things about Nicole at school?”
When his daughter shifted her eyes down to her plate, he felt a dull ache in his chest. “Why, Allie?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
Tears pooled and dropped. Her distress broke his heart. But he couldn’t leave this alone; the consequences were too high. He knew that in Allie’s circle of friends, her opinion held a lot of sway. It was possible she’d turned poor Nicole into a virtual outcast
“I’m afraid we have to ground you for two weeks. No sleepovers, no playing after school. I want you to think about Nicole and what it would feel like if someone said nasty things about you at school.”
Allie squirmed. “Please, Daddy, you already said Ardis could come over today. I promise I’ll be nicer to Nicole on Monday at school.”
He was surprised to feel something harden inside him at this plea. “No, Allie. We’re going to have to cancel those plans with Ardis. It might be a good idea if you helped me with a few jobs this morning. Then maybe this afternoon we can kick the soccer ball around for a while.”
Allie’s shoulders seemed to slump further. “I’ll never be as good as Nicole.”
“That’s not a good attitude. You certainly won’t be if you never practice. Help me with these dishes, then we’ll go outside.” Gibson swallowed the last of the old, bitter coffee. Now he was sounding like a parent. Wasn’t he?
I should call Gibson and apologize, Libby thought for the hundredth time as she ran the power lawn mower across the grass in front of the house after supper on Sunday. The neatly mowed strips were in complete contrast with her frazzled state of mind.
Since last night, she’d agonized over every word she’d said— Lord, she’d exploded like an overheated radiator. Not that talking to Gibson about Allie hadn’t been overdue. But she should’ve waited until she was calm and rational.
If Gibson had sat in the driver’s seat of the school bus every day, though, he’d have understood the pressure she was under. Having to watch while Allie and Ardis excluded Nicole day after day. Of course, if he was there, Allie wouldn’t dare behave the way she did. As Connie had said, the little girl had radar where her father was concerned.
Libby paused to wipe the sweat off her hands, running them down the denim material on her hips. An apology was in order. But what if Gibson took it to mean she'd changed her mind about ending their relationship? Which of course she hadn’t.
Yet the possibility that she might be able to patch things up between them, at least temporarily, was temping. She hated how much she longed to do exactly that. Why had there been such magic between them if they weren’t meant to be? Going on alone would have been easier if she hadn’t had a taste of what love and passion were all about.
Now she knew how the sight of one special man could lift a woman’s spirits higher than a bright summer day. Now she knew how beautiful making love could feel, and how comforting a broad shoulder was in the middle of the night. Problems shared were halved; pleasures shared were multiplied.
With Gibson, she’d glimpsed the kind of life she hadn’t dreamed about since she was a child. But that life was a mirage, because in about two months she and Nicole would leave Chatsworth, although it wouldn't be easy. Despite the problems with Allie at school, she knew Nicole was happy here, and so was she.
This place was in her blood. Her father and her mother, each in their own way, had been as rooted to their section of prairie land as the invasive grasses and weeds that grew naturally along the sides of the roads, down in the ditches, to the border of the tilled soil.
In fact, this very tie to the land had probably saved her father in the midst of his grief. The need to go out every spring and cultivate and seed; the desire to nurture the crop, to guide it through to fruition; then the hard work and joy of harvesting. Her father would have been controlled by the same instinct that takes birds south in the winter, Libby was sure; by a force stronger than the overpowering pain of his loss.
And the prairie was doing the same for her, healing the wounds of the past years more quickly than she would have thought possible. If only she could stay.
Libby turned the mower around the corner of the yard and headed back toward the house. How unfortunate Darren O’Malley hadn’t been one of the many young people lured away to the city by the prospect of an easier life. Then staying wouldn’t be such an impossible choice.
A large stick ahead caused Libby to pause and clear the mower's path. She picked up the twisted lilac branch and hurled it into the hedge. At that moment the mower’s motor cut out. Probably out of gas.
But no. She turned to see Gibson, his hand on the lever that switched the machine off. “You look like you could use a break. I brought a beer from home.” He passed a deliciously cold can toward her.
Once she popped back the tab, she took a long swallow, hoping to give her heart a chance to stop pounding.
He couldn’t have caught her more off guard. Although she’d been thinking of him and their situation practically nonstop since he’d dropped her off last night, she still had no idea what she wanted to say to him. The words of the apology she’d been considering earlier stuck like dust in her throat.
When she’d brought the can down from her lips she noticed someone standing behind Gibson’s legs. “Hello, Allie.”
Cautiously the young girl stepped forward. “I want to say sorry for being rude the other day.” She looked up at her father, and he gave her an encouraging nod. She swallowed, then held out an envelope. “I wrote you this note, too.”
“Thank you.” Libby took the envelope, softening toward the girl despite her earlier anger.
“I have one for Nicole,” Allie continued, staring at the ground.
“She’s in the barn. That fat old tabby had a batch of new kittens this morning.”
“Oh.” Allie’s interest perked a little, but she checked with her father before running off to the barn.
Leaving Libby with Gibson—and she didn’t like the way that made her feel. Giddy, awkward, excited. She had in mind that this would be a good time for her own apology, but Gibson’s expression was not encouraging.
“I’ve grounded Allie,” he said tersely. “For two weeks.” He cleared his throat, then added. “You were right. I need to take a firmer hand.”
Here was her chance. “You did the right thing. But I’m sorry I spoke out the way I did.”
He brushed off her apology. “Yeah, well, I guess I’ve crossed those boundaries with you a few times myself.”
It was the truth, and she was glad he knew it Not that it helped the current situation. She reminded herself of the calendar. Of the fact that soon she and Nicole would be leaving. It seemed Gibson was reading her mind.
“In just a little over two months you and Nicole will be free of us.” This time a touch of bitterness edged his words.
“You know that isn’t why we’re planning to leave.”
“Like hell I do. I wish you’d tell me. And I hope you tell your father, too. Because he’s going to be devastated when you’re gone. Probably revert to the same cantankerous pain in the butt as before.”
“Don’t try to make me feel guilty.”
He gave a short laugh. “You just don’t get it, do you? I wasn’t counting on guilt being the reason you would stay.”
God help her when he looked at her the way he was doing right now. Her determination softened the way the soil did after the rain. If only there were a way... Just admitting her love would be such a relief.
“Oh, God, Libby...”
He was reaching for her when Allie’s voice came from the direction of the barn. Libby turned to see the girls approaching. They walked several feet apart, the coolness between them evident.
“Can we go home now, Daddy?” Allie put her arms around his waist. “I did what you told me.”
He reached down to stroke her hair. “Did you apologize to Nicole, too?”
“Yes.”
Nicole confirmed this with a small nod. In her hand she clutched an envelope identical to the one that Libby held.
“Fine, then. Let’s go.” Before turning around to leave, however, he had a parting message for Nicole. “Don’t forget we have our last game on Thursday. We’ll need our star player in top shape!”
He glanced at Libby. “There’s a little ceremony after the game where we give all the kids medals for participating. You might want to bring your camera.”
Libby nodded, while Nicole whooped with excitement “Who are we playing, Coach?”
“Sledgewood.” He gave Libby a sardonic look, then followed Allie into the truck and drove away.