Chapter Fifty-Five
“I ’m sorry I just showed up like this,” Katherine said once they were settled in front of the fireplace. “It seems like I sort of messed things up for you.” She motioned toward the door where the dark haired woman had exited.
He sighed. “Don’t worry about that. She’ll be okay.”
“Is she your . . .?” she trailed off, not sure which word to use.
“Vickie is her name. She’s been working with me on a project I’m researching.” He sighed. “But we’re also.” He met her gaze. “I guess we’re sort of involved,” he said finally.
Katherine nodded.
He rose and began to pace in front of the fireplace. “Tell me more about what brought you here. I can’t tell you how surprised I am.” He stopped and faced her. “Or how happy.”
“Mom is sick. Really sick. It started a while back and now she has liver cancer.” She looked down at her hands. They’d never looked anything like her mother’s tiny hands. Had she inherited those from her dad?
He sat down on the couch next to her, but not too close. She was glad he was keeping his distance right now. She wasn’t ready to hug him or anything. She wasn’t even sure what to call him yet.
“What’s the prognosis?” he asked softly.
She met his gaze and felt the tears stinging her eyes. “Not good,” she whispered. “We sold the house in California and now we’re staying with my grandparents in Maryland.” She managed a tiny smile. “I’ve met so many family members. They’ve accepted me in a way I didn’t expect.”
“I’m glad you’re getting to know them.” He picked up a coaster from the coffee table and began to turn it over and over in his hands. “And I’m sorry to hear about Jane.” He sat the coaster back down and glanced over at her. “What all did she tell you about me?”
“Please don’t be angry at her. She’s really sorry about things.” Katherine took a deep breath and explained the situation to him. She could see the emotion on his face as he realized she’d spent her entire life thinking he didn’t want to be her father.
He was silent for a long moment. “Jane shouldn’t get all of the blame. What kind of person must you think I am, to have given up my rights?” he shook his head. “I was so unprepared for fatherhood. We were eighteen when you were born. I’d barely been around any babies at that point. I had no idea what to do with you.”
“Mom said you did the best you could.”
“It was nice of her to try and give me the benefit of the doubt. You know, until you were two, you used to spend time with me. I was terrified the whole time. Some nights, especially when you were just a baby, I’d stay up all night watching you sleep, just making sure you were still breathing.” A haunted expression crossed his face. “When Jane took off with you to California, I bought a puppy from this breeder who lives near my parents. I thought you’d have something to play with when you came for visits, and maybe that way I could learn to take care of something so I’d be a better dad.”
Her mouth turned upward in a grin. “Easton? I saw a picture in the stacks of cards and letters. He looked like a sweet dog.”
He grinned. “Wait here.” He walked out of the room and she heard him open a door and whistle. A chocolate lab with big brown eyes came bounding into the room and jumped up onto the couch beside her.
“This can’t be him,” she exclaimed, rubbing the dogs head.
“Nope. But he’s from the same breeder. This is Buster. I guess he’s Easton’s descendant.” He grinned. “Having a chocolate lab always reminds me of you, and I’ve had one ever since you were born. When you were two, you and Easton loved each other so much. You’d cry and cry for your mom, but as soon as I’d bring Easton inside, you’d be all smiles and laughs.” His eyes grew moist. “Those were good times.”
Buster gave her one last lick and hopped down off the couch. He turned in three circles and stretched out on the rug in front of the fire.
“He’s a beautiful dog.”
“And you’re a beautiful young woman.” He stood awkwardly beside the couch. “Listen, I’m not going to pretend that I know how to do this, or what to say. . .” He sat down. “I’d really like to get to know you. My family lives not too far from here.” He paused. “I know it might be too soon right now, but at some point, I’d love for you to meet them. My parents, especially, have always hoped for a reunion.”
She didn’t know what to say. Through all of this, it hadn’t occurred to her that there would be another side of the family who might want to know her. “I’d like that. At some point.” She sighed. “And I’d like to get to know you, too.” She let out a tiny laugh. “I don’t even know what I should call you.”
He grinned. “I go by Thatcher now. It’s my middle name. My students call me Dr. Torrey. Some of my friends call me Thatch.” He looked over at her. “For now, if you’re most comfortable calling me Thatcher, that’s fine.”
She nodded. That was good. He didn’t expect her to immediately call him “dad” or anything. Not that she was opposed to it. It would just take a little while to start thinking of him that way. “Okay.” She turned toward him. “I should probably be going. I need to get back to Mom. But she wants to see you. I think to apologize.” Tears stung her eyes again. “It’s getting harder for her to get around. Do you think maybe you could drive to my grandparents’ house sometime soon?”
Thatcher nodded. “Of course. Anything.” He paused. “Are you sure she wants to see me?”
She nodded. “Yes.” Katherine poked around in her bag and pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen. “Here’s my number,” she said, scribbling her cell number on the paper. “Why don’t you call me and let me know when you can come?”
He took the number. “Sure.”
Katherine rose from the couch and put her coat on. “It will probably need to be soon though.”
He met her eyes and nodded his understanding. “Of course. Maybe later in the week?”
“That should be fine. Just call, okay?” She leaned down where the dog was sprawled. “Bye, Buster. Maybe I’ll see you again soon.” She gave him a pat and stood up.
“I’d like that.” Thatcher grinned. “And so would he.”
She walked to the door and paused with her hand on the knob. “So, I’ll see you?”
“Later on this week. I’ll call.” He followed her out to the driveway to her car. “I’m so glad you came by.”
“Me too.” She gave him a tiny smile and got in the car.
Thatcher stood in the driveway, watching her leave. One last glance in the rear view mirror told her he was still out there, watching and waving as she drove away.