Chapter Fifty-Three
“T hat looks great.” Thatcher looked over Vickie’s shoulder at the screen. “I think we’re nearly finished.” He gave the computer screen one more glance. “I’ll be right back.”
The presentation was coming together. It was weird. For the first time in a long time, he was excited about work again. He knew the work that he and Vickie had done had helped rekindle his passion about his job. It was going to be hard to stand up in front of his colleagues and admit that he’d become complacent, but now that he had a new plan mapped out for future classes, he felt certain he’d be able to win them over. And with the project nearing completion, he’d have a few weeks to practice the presentation and work out all the kinks.
His sister had mentioned stopping by later, but he hadn’t expected her so early. So when he heard the knock at the door, he threw it open, expecting to see Corinne. Instead he was face to face with a young woman who seemed somehow familiar, although he couldn’t place her. “Can I help you?” he asked.
“You’ve got to come see this,” Vickie said, walking up behind him. She looked at the open door. “Oh, sorry.”
Thatcher turned back to the girl who was still standing on the doorstep. She hadn’t spoken. “Are you okay?” he asked.
She seemed rooted to the spot.
He turned and met Vickie’s eyes. She’d moved to the couch, but he could see that she was concerned about the silent visitor. He shrugged at her and turned back to the mute girl. “Why don’t you come inside? It’s awfully cold out.”
She stepped over the threshold, and he could see that she was shivering. “I’m looking for Edward Torrey.”
A gasp escaped his lips. No one had called him that in years. As soon as he left high school for college, he’d taken to using his middle name. Thatcher just sounded so much more professional. Changing his name was the next best thing to becoming someone else entirely, which was what he would’ve liked to have done.
The young woman turned her blue eyes toward him and he felt the room sway beneath his feet as he placed her. “You’ve found him,” he said simply. He cast a frantic glance at Vickie who was glued to the couch like she was watching a scene in a movie unfold.
The girl took a deep breath. “My name is Katherine Wyatt.” Her face was calm. “I’m your daughter.”
Vickie let out a gasp.
Thatcher looked from Vickie, who sat, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, to Katherine who stood before him shaky and ashen. The rush of emotions was almost more than he could bear. The need to explain the situation to Vickie before it got out of hand mixed with the need to reach out to Katherine and tell her how much he’d thought of her over the years. “Katherine, I’ve spent many years hoping to meet you. But I gave up hope a long time ago that you’d ever want to find me.”
She gave him a tiny smile. Her eyes might be her mother’s, but the smile was his. “Mom didn’t give me your letters and cards until a few months ago,” she explained. “But don’t be mad.” Her words were rushed. “She felt guilty after the divorce and all.” Her eyes filled with tears. “And she’s really sick now, and wants to make sure I have a family.” The last bit came out in a whisper.
“Why don’t you take your coat off and go warm up by the fire?” he asked gently. “I’ll get you some hot chocolate and then you can tell me the whole story.” She must be twenty by now. The same age as some of his students. The same age he’d been when he’d last seen her. Feeling ancient, he ushered her toward the now-vacant couch. As soon as she was settled by the fireplace, he set off in search of Vickie.
He rounded the corner to the office where she was throwing things into her duffel bag. “Vickie,” he kept his voice low so Katherine wouldn’t hear. “I assure you there’s an explanation for all of this. I need to speak to Katherine for a moment and then I’ll tell you what’s going on.”
The watery tears looked like they were about to spill over her green eyes. “I think I can see what’s going on. Am I to understand that you’ve been married ?”
He nodded silently.
“And you had a child ?”
He nodded. “But—“
“No buts. Remember when we talked about why we were still single? And you said you’d never been in love, just like me? You told me you’d never had a serious relationship.” She angrily zipped her bag. “Don’t you think the whole ‘I’m divorced and have a daughter’ was kind of an important element to that story?” The tears finally began to stream down her face. “I feel so stupid.” She rushed down the hallway and to the door.
He followed her out to the porch, glancing to see Katherine, listlessly standing by the fire. “Please, Vickie. Don’t do this.”
She threw her bag into the cab of his pickup truck and turned to look at him. “I’m taking your truck back to the city. I’ll drop it off at your house. I have to get out of here.”
Before he could move from the porch, she’d started the truck and sped off. He raked his hands through his hair. This was a disaster.
But he couldn’t think about it now. He needed to focus on Katherine, who’d clearly had a reason for coming. He walked back inside, hoping he could figure out how to be a father in the minute it would take to reach her.