Broken Glass (The Mirror Sisters 2)

He laughed, and we started toward the restaurant entrance. I had never been here, and I wondered if it was a place to which he had brought one of his girlfriends. He opened the door for me and took my hand as we stepped inside.

“You’re my date,” he said. “Let’s make sure no one misunderstands that.” He nodded toward the bar as we walked by. A group of young men had stopped talking and were looking our way. I smiled to myself, thinking that the interest of good-looking new men was something I no longer had to share with Kaylee. Besides, I’d always believed they were looking mostly at me. I gave off the air of maturity they’d like in a girl my age.

My suspicions were correct. The maitre d’ knew my father. He had been here often.

“Good evening, Mr. Fitzgerald,” the man said, his gaze locked mostly on me. “And who is this beautiful young lady?”

“My daughter,” Daddy said.

“You will have to hire the Secret Service for protection,” the maitre d’ replied, smiling.

Daddy held on to my hand as the maitre d’ led us to what I assumed was Daddy’s favorite table, off to the side and sort of private. I couldn’t help but enjoy the looks I was getting from men with their dates or wives. I wondered if any of them thought I was Daddy’s girlfriend. Whenever he took Kaylee and me out, there was no doubt who we were. We had to be his daughters. But by myself, I was suddenly more mysterious. It was a feeling I had never had when we were with him.

It was an elegant restaurant, one that Mother would surely call pricey. The waiter gave Daddy the wine list, and he ordered something by the glass. He whispered that he would give me a sip of it.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he said. “They make a terrific surf and turf here. My favorite and something I know you girls like.”

“Kaylee never liked it as much,” I said.

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sp; He nodded, thoughtful. His wine came, and we ordered salads and the surf and turf.

“Now, I would never dare say this to your mother, even when you two were not around,” he began. I had sensed there was more to this dinner date than preparing me for possibly more intense psychiatric attention to Mother. My body tightened as though I were expecting a slap or something. “But I do see some significant differences between the two of you, of course. You are not clones, even though your mother sometimes presents you as if you are.”

“I’m glad,” I said. “Neither Kaylee nor I want to be a clone.”

“And you think maybe that was why she did what she did?”

I shrugged.

“She’s never seemed that adventurous to me,” he said. “I guess I’ve really been out of the loop when it comes to you two.”

I kept my gaze on my soft drink and waited for him to say or ask something more.

“From what the police have told us about their interrogations of your friends and hers, no one had the least suspicion. Is she that good at keeping secrets?”

“For us, a secret is like a diamond,” I muttered. “We’ve had to share so much in front of everyone, especially Mother and you.”

Our salads came. I really shouldn’t have been surprised at his curiosity. He was our father, despite all that had occurred between him and Mother. A father had to have some instincts about his children. Mother made it seem like he was a complete stranger sometimes.

“Why do you think she claimed it was all happening on her computer?” he asked.

“You’re into computers and all that, Daddy. I suppose it’s not a big leap for her to think of that first.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. It’s just that I keep thinking she’s always been more timid than you. To me, it seems that she depends more on you to lead when it comes to anything social.”

“Maybe that bothers her,” I offered.

He looked thoughtful.

“Besides, timid girls are more apt to get into trouble, don’t you think? They’re more trusting.”

“That makes sense. You’re right,” he said. I felt the tightness lessen in me. “Well, let’s stop talking about it. I’m defeating my purpose, aren’t I? This was supposed to be a dinner for relief, a breather. Let’s get back to your love life.”

“And back to your telling me what ‘they’re all boys’ means?”

He laughed. “I never had a pretty girl for a friend. Don’t believe the propaganda. Any boy who wants to be just friends is really trying to figure out a way to be more. Or else, he lacks testosterone.”