Daughter of Light (Kindred 2)

I put away those fears and carried on. It was the busiest few weeks since I had come to Quincy. I didn’t make a single dinner at the Winston House, but I could feel the excitement building in Mrs. Winston and Mrs. McGruder. Whenever I was home, they wanted a detailed report on what we had done that day concerning the wedding and our future plans.

Liam was serious about our honeymoon in Capri and made arrangements for us to stay at the Casa Morgano immediately. He brought me brochures and pictures of the island. We even watched a short video about it. I couldn’t help but agree with him and be excited. Aside from my flight, I had never taken a trip with anyone but Daddy. Suddenly, I did feel as if the world was opening to me.

Three weeks after we had told his family we were engaged, Mr. Dolan had it in the Quincy society pages. My biography was kept generic and vague. I was simply one of his newer employees who had come from California. No mention was made of my family. He had influence with the paper and the writer, so nothing was questioned further. He was always looking out for me, protecting me, as if I were already a part of his family. I knew that didn’t mean that questions wouldn’t come up. I had to prepare how I would respond.

And then that problem ended, but not the way I would have wanted.

One day at work, Mr. Dolan called for me to come into his office.

“Close the door,” he said as soon as I had entered.

My heart began to race. The look on his face was more serious than ever. Once in a while during the past weeks, I would pause to wonder if Mr. Dolan, perhaps at Mrs. Wakefield’s request, had decided to hire a private detective to track my past. Maybe some of his friends at the golf club or other business associates had warned him about so-called gold diggers. I was sure he would testify that I was too wonderful to fall into that category, and he might even go into how much I had changed Liam for the better. I could imagine him saying something like “Even if she is, she’s worth it.”

But then again, he might have concluded that it was his responsibility to protect his son. How could I blame him for it? I was sure that Liam would get very upset about it if he found out his father was spying on me. That might have been the only reason Mr. Dolan hadn’t done anything of the sort, as far as I knew. He wouldn’t want to ruin his renewed wonderful relationship with his son.

Until now, my personality, my work ethic, and my relationship with Mrs. Winston and Mrs. McGruder had surely pushed back any unpleasant suspicions, but how long could I carry on? Maybe no longer. Perhaps that was why he called me into his office, I thought as I took the seat in front of Mr. Dolan’s desk. I was prepared to learn that this was the beginning of the end.

He sat forward, his hands folded. I thought he looked even more nervous than I felt. What was happening?

“I just got off the phone with your father,” he said.

It was as if some monster had torn open my chest and scooped out my heart. I felt cavernous, drained of blood and organs. I was like a corpse in an autopsy, every little secret part of me exposed and displayed. Was I still breathing? It didn’t feel like it. Did he really say “your father”?

“I don’t understand,” I said.

He nodded and was silent a moment, a moment that seemed like hours to me. “People say the world has grown so small. News in one corner can be picked up in another instantly, and with the Internet . . . well, it doesn’t surprise me.”

I shook my head. “What doesn’t surprise you?”

“That your father out in California would have someone mention to him that he saw your name on a social news blog and then describe your upcoming wedding.”

“Is that what he told you?”

“Yes.”

“What does he want? Why did he call you?”

“He wants to pay for your wedding,” Mr. Dolan said. “Father of the bride and all that.”

“But he’s . . . he hasn’t been my father. That’s why I left home.”

“He knows that. This is his way of making amends. I didn’t say yes,” he added quickly. “I told him I would be talking with you.” He paused and then smiled. “Look, I’m a father. I know I haven’t been a perfect father. I can’t help but empathize and—”

“This is different. He’s different.”

“I know that’s how you see it, how you have seen it, but time has passed. The reality of your being out of his life has settled in. He has obviously had the time to consider what has happened. He doesn’t expect that you will reconcile overnight or even after weeks and months, maybe, but he would like to go more than halfway to make it up to you. He was actually pleading by the end of the call,” Mr. Dolan added.

> I looked up sharply. Daddy pleading? That would never happen. Why couldn’t Mr. Dolan see through the subterfuge? I had thought he was smarter than most men. Daddy was manipulating him as easily as he could manipulate anyone. Now how did I look in Mr. Dolan’s eyes? I was sitting before him, suddenly the bad one, the one who wouldn’t forgive, recalcitrant, bitter and stubborn, maybe even spoiled. How could I be that way? What had happened to all the sensitivity I’d shown? I could hear those thoughts and see them coming at me. How do I do this? How do I respond without saying too much?

“Why don’t you sleep on it?” Mr. Dolan said, seeing my reaction. “You’re on your way toward making a whole new life for yourself. We’re here for you, and we are powerful and formidable people,” he added with pride. “You have nothing to worry about.”

I nearly laughed aloud. It took all of my self-control not to do it. You, I thought, powerful and formidable against my father? It was so ridiculous a concept that I had to look down, close my eyes, and hold my breath.

“You won’t go back to him. This is your home,” Mr. Dolan continued, trying the reasonable approach. “You’ll treat him like any other guest if that’s what you want him to be.”

I looked up quickly. “Guest? So, you’re saying not only does he want to pay for the wedding but he also wants to attend?”

Mr. Dolan shrugged. “Look at it another way. He could have been totally uninterested, hated you, or tried to forget you, but that part of him that’s good wants to see what every father surely wants to see, his daughter married and moving on to a life of her own. He wants to give away the bride. I know I’d be heartbroken if I wasn’t at Julia’s wedding to give her away. Think it over,” he said again as he stood. “I have to go see Charley in the appliance center. Be back in a while. You can talk it over with anyone tonight. I’m sure Julia will be a good ear if you don’t want to talk to Liam about it just yet.”