She smiled to herself; that was kind of cute. And that rising fear reared its ugly head—Please don’t let this all be false. Please, please let it be true.
“You can come now,” she said. “The girls are bathed, dressed and fed.”
“Nuts,” he said. “I was going to offer to pick up lunch.”
“Not necessary, but have you eaten? Because I have a bunch of apples, apple butter, bread, but not the kind of food a man might be looking for.”
“I had a late and very large breakfast. I’m completely satisfied.”
“Then come. Oh, and Jed… As I mentioned before, Berry is very shy. Step softly.”
“Of course. See you shortly.”
And shortly it was—he must have phoned from just out of town. Fifteen minutes later, he was at the door. And he was bearing gifts—he held a bag from a toy store. “Oh, my,” she said. “I shouldn’t be surprised, but oh, my!”
“I couldn’t stop myself,” he said with a sheepish smile. “The truth is, I didn’t even try.”
Jed stood in the open doorway holding his big bag. Fay had been standing beside the couch but upon seeing company, she dropped to a sit and then rapidly crawled toward him. Nora swept Fay up before she flew right out the front door. Berry, on the other hand, shrank back behind the couch, just peeking at him.
“May I come in?” he asked.
“Oh,” she said. “Right.” And she held open the door for him.
He didn’t say anything at all, but moving slowly and smiling gently, he got down on the floor with his bag and started removing toys. They were all new, something Nora had not been able to provide for her kids. They had some perfectly good toys, a whole plastic laundry basket full, but these were so much better. There was a spire that played music when the brightly colored plastic hoops were stacked on it. There was a toy that mimicked the animal noises. A cow says moooo… . Another toy had an arrow that pointed to a number or a letter—and this one spoke in either Spanish or English. And there were several books.
Nora sat at their small table and watched. Fay was struggling to get down off her lap.
“Let her come, Nora, it’s okay—these are all safe for a one-year-old. I double-checked.” Then he lifted his eyes to Berry. “These are for you and Fay, Berry,” he said calmly, softly. “You can keep them and play with them.” He lifted a book. “When you feel like it, we’ll read a story.”
“It’s okay, Berry,” Nora said. “This is your…” She didn’t finish.
“Say grandpa, Nora. Then whatever they want to call me, that’s it. My friend, Susan, who is a grandmother, her grands call me Papa.”
“Berry doesn’t talk very much,” Nora said. “She’s so shy.”
“Nothing wrong with being cautious,” he said easily. “I’m shy, too.”
“You are, aren’t you? I think I remember that about you!”
“It was always easier for me to read and write than to interact. Probably how I ended up on the faculty. I can lecture because it’s prepared. I can write a great paper and defend it. I can talk to students about their work, their grades, their schedules. But when they bring me personal issues, I freeze. I’m determined to do better with you. And your children.” He pulled out something else, a mesh bag of large, beautifully colored plastic blocks with letters on them. For now, Berry could stack them; eventually she could line them up and make words. He unfolded a very small play stroller, added a little doll and a doll-size diaper bag.
Fay was immediately drawn to the bright colors and Jed showed her how to make them tinkle and sing and talk.
“How did you get up here so fast?” Nora asked. “What time did you leave this morning?”
“I came last evening. I stayed over in a motel in Fortuna. I didn’t want to waste a minute.” Then with a slight flush he said, “There’s more, Nora.”
“More what?”
“Things for the girls.”
“Oh, Jed, that wasn’t necessary. I don’t want them to think that every time they see you there will be presents.”
“I thought of that. I left everything in bags. You can put them away in a closet and when the girls are asleep, take them out and look at them, give them things when I’m not here so they don’t think, you know…”
“Think what?”
“That I’m Santa Claus or something. But it was such an experience, like I’ve never had before. When Susan’s grandchildren came, I went shopping with her and she was a crazy fool—throwing things in carts, literally losing her mind! I thought she’d gone mad.” He shrugged. “Then I suddenly had grandchildren and… Lord, I couldn’t stop myself. Don’t think she didn’t get the biggest kick out of it.”
“Susan?” she asked.
“Haven’t I mentioned her before today? She’s a professor, but I met her fifteen years ago when she was a student. Not my student, but an older woman, finishing her degree once her children were nearly raised. Younger than I.”
“And she’s your girlfriend?”
He gave a nod and another slight blush. “I guess you could say. A few years after my divorce, ten years after hers, we began seeing each other. She’s more a close friend than anything. We don’t live together, we’re not engaged. I’d like you to meet her. She’s nice.” Jed pulled a large, glossy book out of his bag and held it up so that Berry could see. “Princess stories,” he said. “Susan’s granddaughters love them. They’re princesses every Halloween.”
Berry came slowly forward, chewing on a finger. The brightly colored princesses on the cover got her. He let her take the book out of his hand and she immediately backed toward Nora. Leaning against her mother’s legs, she opened the beautiful book.
And Nora’s eyes clouded with tears. She sniffed.
Jed looked at her. “Are you crying?” he asked.
She shook her head, but she pursed her lips together tightly, not trusting herself to speak.
“What’s the matter, honey?” he asked.
That brought the tears, calling her honey. “I don’t know,” she said. “Grateful, maybe. Embarrassed that I didn’t amount to more. That I couldn’t give my kids more. I don’t know what you must think of me.”
He was still on the floor, but he sat up a bit taller. “I couldn’t be more proud of you,” he said. “When I think about…” He just shook his head.
She wiped away tears with her fingers and pulled Berry onto her lap. “When you think about what?” she asked.
He had trouble meeting her eyes. He took a deep breath. “If I had approached you at fifteen or sixteen, told you where I was and that I’d do whatever I could to help if you needed me, if I’d done that, things would have been so different. But I didn’t.”
“Why?” she said in a breath.
He shook his head again. “I thought it was for you. But maybe it was for me. Maybe it was easier to avoid the possibility of any conflict—I’m guilty of that. I learned that about myself, that I’m too passive. If I had known she would do what she—that she would throw you out… My God. Please, you must not blame yourself.”
Nora looked at his sad eyes and thought, I’m not sure. He could be lying to me and I wouldn’t know the difference. “We have a long way to go, you and I.”
“A long way, yes, you’re right about that. And part of that has to involve coming to terms with how your mother was. Nora, we can spend a lot of time talking about how much pain she caused us. We could work that like a hangnail for a lot of years, you and I. But at some point we have to let some things go. For my part, I broke her heart. I hurt her. She obviously felt abandoned, robbed, cheated. Abused. I spent years feeling the hurt she caused me by keeping you from me, but certainly she must have felt deep hurt, as well.” He shook his head. “Who knows what that can do to a person?”
“Well, I’ll tell you what it does,” Nora said. “It makes them angry and unforgiving and unreachable.”
“She made mistakes, Nora. So did I. We don’t have to keep reliving them. We can make a decision not to repeat them. To do better.” He gave her a smile. “You’re obviously doing exactly that. Your children love and trust you. And after hardly any time at all I can tell, you’ll always be there for them.”
* * *
Jed’s trunk was full of stuff for his granddaughters—mostly clothes for the girls, which they needed. There was a jumper with a butterfly appliqué on it, the gauzy wings standing out and a few sequins sewn on that melted Berry’s heart and when she touched it she said, “Ohhhhh.” So Nora put it on her. While Berry was a long way from letting her brand-new grandfather cuddle her, she did gently finger that butterfly and look up at him with a slight smile.
He admitted that Susan helped with the shopping—there were even dishes and placemats for the girls. His gifts had not been extravagant. They were all necessities and he’d left the price tags on in case they should be exchanged. They were inexpensive, but so nice. And there was also a big bag of diapers, a case of formula, a box of wipes, a batch of bottles and sippy cups.
Then he took them all to Jack’s Bar for Sunday night dinner and it was the first restaurant experience Berry and Fay had. But there could be no more perfect place because not only was the grill stocked up on high chairs, booster seats and mini-meals for children, but there were a number of families there, including Jack’s. Jack shook Jed’s hand excitedly. “Welcome,” he boomed. “I didn’t know Nora had family nearby—that’s great. Nora is one of our favorites around here, just so you know. She’s helped out at the clinic, at the new school—a real trouper. And this town is made of troupers.”
A short time later Mel Sheridan came in with her kids and beamed when she saw Nora with her dad. Before even sitting down, she introduced herself and her children. “How fantastic you could visit! Nora’s become a good friend of mine. She reaches out to everyone, helping whenever she can—a godsend.”
Nora had the strangest feeling of being normal, even admired. She hadn’t felt like that very often in her life.
“And you thought I wouldn’t be proud of you?” Jed whispered.
What she learned after six hours with Jed was that he was neither the perfect fantasy father she had hoped nor the beast her mother had tried to prepare her for. Reverend Kincaid would no doubt be hearing a lot about this later. Jed Crane was an intellectual, a success in his field, but he was clearly not a social dynamo. Those parenting and relationship skills he now had were probably developed during the time he spent with his girlfriend, Susan. When Nora was a baby and preschooler he was a gentle and attentive parent without an angry bone in his body, but he didn’t have the skills to deal with someone like Therese. In fact, Therese might have seen in him a man she could manage. If so, that would explain her many years of anger that he would leave her.
He couldn’t protect Nora then. It was doubtful he could protect her now.
But he had good qualities. He was sincere, for one thing. And unless he was a truly gifted psychopath, he wasn’t very deep emotionally. Nor was he malicious. And the way he acted toward Nora and the little girls was sweet and precious.
He described his days; he could read for hours. He went to Germany or England or Poland for three months out of every year—he was a World War II scholar and had published two volumes and numerous papers on the war and the reconstruction after the war. He loved his field of study as much now as he had when he began his dissertation and had no desire to ever retire, however, his schedule was not strenuous, thanks to teaching assistants.
“You can come now,” she said. “The girls are bathed, dressed and fed.”
“Nuts,” he said. “I was going to offer to pick up lunch.”
“Not necessary, but have you eaten? Because I have a bunch of apples, apple butter, bread, but not the kind of food a man might be looking for.”
“I had a late and very large breakfast. I’m completely satisfied.”
“Then come. Oh, and Jed… As I mentioned before, Berry is very shy. Step softly.”
“Of course. See you shortly.”
And shortly it was—he must have phoned from just out of town. Fifteen minutes later, he was at the door. And he was bearing gifts—he held a bag from a toy store. “Oh, my,” she said. “I shouldn’t be surprised, but oh, my!”
“I couldn’t stop myself,” he said with a sheepish smile. “The truth is, I didn’t even try.”
Jed stood in the open doorway holding his big bag. Fay had been standing beside the couch but upon seeing company, she dropped to a sit and then rapidly crawled toward him. Nora swept Fay up before she flew right out the front door. Berry, on the other hand, shrank back behind the couch, just peeking at him.
“May I come in?” he asked.
“Oh,” she said. “Right.” And she held open the door for him.
He didn’t say anything at all, but moving slowly and smiling gently, he got down on the floor with his bag and started removing toys. They were all new, something Nora had not been able to provide for her kids. They had some perfectly good toys, a whole plastic laundry basket full, but these were so much better. There was a spire that played music when the brightly colored plastic hoops were stacked on it. There was a toy that mimicked the animal noises. A cow says moooo… . Another toy had an arrow that pointed to a number or a letter—and this one spoke in either Spanish or English. And there were several books.
Nora sat at their small table and watched. Fay was struggling to get down off her lap.
“Let her come, Nora, it’s okay—these are all safe for a one-year-old. I double-checked.” Then he lifted his eyes to Berry. “These are for you and Fay, Berry,” he said calmly, softly. “You can keep them and play with them.” He lifted a book. “When you feel like it, we’ll read a story.”
“It’s okay, Berry,” Nora said. “This is your…” She didn’t finish.
“Say grandpa, Nora. Then whatever they want to call me, that’s it. My friend, Susan, who is a grandmother, her grands call me Papa.”
“Berry doesn’t talk very much,” Nora said. “She’s so shy.”
“Nothing wrong with being cautious,” he said easily. “I’m shy, too.”
“You are, aren’t you? I think I remember that about you!”
“It was always easier for me to read and write than to interact. Probably how I ended up on the faculty. I can lecture because it’s prepared. I can write a great paper and defend it. I can talk to students about their work, their grades, their schedules. But when they bring me personal issues, I freeze. I’m determined to do better with you. And your children.” He pulled out something else, a mesh bag of large, beautifully colored plastic blocks with letters on them. For now, Berry could stack them; eventually she could line them up and make words. He unfolded a very small play stroller, added a little doll and a doll-size diaper bag.
Fay was immediately drawn to the bright colors and Jed showed her how to make them tinkle and sing and talk.
“How did you get up here so fast?” Nora asked. “What time did you leave this morning?”
“I came last evening. I stayed over in a motel in Fortuna. I didn’t want to waste a minute.” Then with a slight flush he said, “There’s more, Nora.”
“More what?”
“Things for the girls.”
“Oh, Jed, that wasn’t necessary. I don’t want them to think that every time they see you there will be presents.”
“I thought of that. I left everything in bags. You can put them away in a closet and when the girls are asleep, take them out and look at them, give them things when I’m not here so they don’t think, you know…”
“Think what?”
“That I’m Santa Claus or something. But it was such an experience, like I’ve never had before. When Susan’s grandchildren came, I went shopping with her and she was a crazy fool—throwing things in carts, literally losing her mind! I thought she’d gone mad.” He shrugged. “Then I suddenly had grandchildren and… Lord, I couldn’t stop myself. Don’t think she didn’t get the biggest kick out of it.”
“Susan?” she asked.
“Haven’t I mentioned her before today? She’s a professor, but I met her fifteen years ago when she was a student. Not my student, but an older woman, finishing her degree once her children were nearly raised. Younger than I.”
“And she’s your girlfriend?”
He gave a nod and another slight blush. “I guess you could say. A few years after my divorce, ten years after hers, we began seeing each other. She’s more a close friend than anything. We don’t live together, we’re not engaged. I’d like you to meet her. She’s nice.” Jed pulled a large, glossy book out of his bag and held it up so that Berry could see. “Princess stories,” he said. “Susan’s granddaughters love them. They’re princesses every Halloween.”
Berry came slowly forward, chewing on a finger. The brightly colored princesses on the cover got her. He let her take the book out of his hand and she immediately backed toward Nora. Leaning against her mother’s legs, she opened the beautiful book.
And Nora’s eyes clouded with tears. She sniffed.
Jed looked at her. “Are you crying?” he asked.
She shook her head, but she pursed her lips together tightly, not trusting herself to speak.
“What’s the matter, honey?” he asked.
That brought the tears, calling her honey. “I don’t know,” she said. “Grateful, maybe. Embarrassed that I didn’t amount to more. That I couldn’t give my kids more. I don’t know what you must think of me.”
He was still on the floor, but he sat up a bit taller. “I couldn’t be more proud of you,” he said. “When I think about…” He just shook his head.
She wiped away tears with her fingers and pulled Berry onto her lap. “When you think about what?” she asked.
He had trouble meeting her eyes. He took a deep breath. “If I had approached you at fifteen or sixteen, told you where I was and that I’d do whatever I could to help if you needed me, if I’d done that, things would have been so different. But I didn’t.”
“Why?” she said in a breath.
He shook his head again. “I thought it was for you. But maybe it was for me. Maybe it was easier to avoid the possibility of any conflict—I’m guilty of that. I learned that about myself, that I’m too passive. If I had known she would do what she—that she would throw you out… My God. Please, you must not blame yourself.”
Nora looked at his sad eyes and thought, I’m not sure. He could be lying to me and I wouldn’t know the difference. “We have a long way to go, you and I.”
“A long way, yes, you’re right about that. And part of that has to involve coming to terms with how your mother was. Nora, we can spend a lot of time talking about how much pain she caused us. We could work that like a hangnail for a lot of years, you and I. But at some point we have to let some things go. For my part, I broke her heart. I hurt her. She obviously felt abandoned, robbed, cheated. Abused. I spent years feeling the hurt she caused me by keeping you from me, but certainly she must have felt deep hurt, as well.” He shook his head. “Who knows what that can do to a person?”
“Well, I’ll tell you what it does,” Nora said. “It makes them angry and unforgiving and unreachable.”
“She made mistakes, Nora. So did I. We don’t have to keep reliving them. We can make a decision not to repeat them. To do better.” He gave her a smile. “You’re obviously doing exactly that. Your children love and trust you. And after hardly any time at all I can tell, you’ll always be there for them.”
* * *
Jed’s trunk was full of stuff for his granddaughters—mostly clothes for the girls, which they needed. There was a jumper with a butterfly appliqué on it, the gauzy wings standing out and a few sequins sewn on that melted Berry’s heart and when she touched it she said, “Ohhhhh.” So Nora put it on her. While Berry was a long way from letting her brand-new grandfather cuddle her, she did gently finger that butterfly and look up at him with a slight smile.
He admitted that Susan helped with the shopping—there were even dishes and placemats for the girls. His gifts had not been extravagant. They were all necessities and he’d left the price tags on in case they should be exchanged. They were inexpensive, but so nice. And there was also a big bag of diapers, a case of formula, a box of wipes, a batch of bottles and sippy cups.
Then he took them all to Jack’s Bar for Sunday night dinner and it was the first restaurant experience Berry and Fay had. But there could be no more perfect place because not only was the grill stocked up on high chairs, booster seats and mini-meals for children, but there were a number of families there, including Jack’s. Jack shook Jed’s hand excitedly. “Welcome,” he boomed. “I didn’t know Nora had family nearby—that’s great. Nora is one of our favorites around here, just so you know. She’s helped out at the clinic, at the new school—a real trouper. And this town is made of troupers.”
A short time later Mel Sheridan came in with her kids and beamed when she saw Nora with her dad. Before even sitting down, she introduced herself and her children. “How fantastic you could visit! Nora’s become a good friend of mine. She reaches out to everyone, helping whenever she can—a godsend.”
Nora had the strangest feeling of being normal, even admired. She hadn’t felt like that very often in her life.
“And you thought I wouldn’t be proud of you?” Jed whispered.
What she learned after six hours with Jed was that he was neither the perfect fantasy father she had hoped nor the beast her mother had tried to prepare her for. Reverend Kincaid would no doubt be hearing a lot about this later. Jed Crane was an intellectual, a success in his field, but he was clearly not a social dynamo. Those parenting and relationship skills he now had were probably developed during the time he spent with his girlfriend, Susan. When Nora was a baby and preschooler he was a gentle and attentive parent without an angry bone in his body, but he didn’t have the skills to deal with someone like Therese. In fact, Therese might have seen in him a man she could manage. If so, that would explain her many years of anger that he would leave her.
He couldn’t protect Nora then. It was doubtful he could protect her now.
But he had good qualities. He was sincere, for one thing. And unless he was a truly gifted psychopath, he wasn’t very deep emotionally. Nor was he malicious. And the way he acted toward Nora and the little girls was sweet and precious.
He described his days; he could read for hours. He went to Germany or England or Poland for three months out of every year—he was a World War II scholar and had published two volumes and numerous papers on the war and the reconstruction after the war. He loved his field of study as much now as he had when he began his dissertation and had no desire to ever retire, however, his schedule was not strenuous, thanks to teaching assistants.
