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Sisters Like Us (Mischief Bay) by Susan Mallery (29)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

HARPER WATCHED THE CLOCK, waiting five full minutes past the time when she knew Terence would be in his office, then dialed his private number. After a busy morning dealing with clients, she was feeling productive, empowered and a little bit smug about her latest sexual encounter with Lucas.

The things that man could do to her body with just a few well-placed kisses. It was damned impressive.

“Hello?”

The male voice startled her for a second and she had to push away the erotic memories to remember who was on the other end of the phone.

“Terence, it’s Harper. I want to talk to you about Becca.”

“What about her? Is she okay?”

“If you’re asking if she’s been in an accident or fallen out a window, then yes, she’s fine. If you want to know how she feels about having you as her father, then she’s not so great.”

“Dammit, Harper, I don’t have time for this—”

“I couldn’t be more clear on that,” she said, interrupting. “But that doesn’t matter. What does matter is your daughter also knows it. You came by to see her. You told her she was important to you. You said you wanted to spend time with her and made her trust you all over again, and then you disappeared.” She didn’t care that her voice rose with every word until she was shouting at him. “You are the lowest life-form ever. What is wrong with you? She’s your kid. You’re supposed to love her and if you can’t manage that with your selfish, asshole heart, then at least pretend for her sake. She’s nearly seventeen. Give it a year, and then turn your back on her.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he began.

“You couldn’t be more wrong. Were you or were you not here ten days ago telling her you wanted to have her over to dinner?”

“Yes, but—”

“Did you or did you not promise to text her and invite her over?”

“Yes, but—”

“Did you or did you not forget to do it? Or not mean it in the first place? My God, Terence, you’re breaking her heart. Is it fun for you? Is it for sport?”

“I don’t need this shit.”

“Becca doesn’t need your shit, either, but you’re her father. Grow a pair and do the right thing.”

There was a long silence. Harper was determined to wait him out and hopefully make him squirm and see that what he was doing was hurting their daughter. Becca had tried to play it cool, but Harper had seen the truth—that she wanted to spend time with him.

“I’ll get in touch with her,” Terence said at last.

“Whatever you do, don’t lead her on. The divorce was only supposed to mean you and I weren’t together anymore. Not you and Becca.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“You’re not acting like you do. She loves you, Terence. You’re her dad. It would be nice if you acted like it.”

“I have to go.”

With that, he hung up.

Harper tossed the phone on her desk and leaned back in her chair. Had he always been like this? Was she finally seeing who he really was? Except for Becca, she wasn’t sure it mattered. He’d moved on and she’d moved on.

Funny how when she tried to remember what she’d seen in him, she couldn’t. They’d met through mutual friends at a party and had hit it off right away. He’d been a couple of years older and nearly done with his bachelor’s degree, while she’d been in her first year of college—a year she’d never finished because she’d dropped out to get a job so she could help put Terence through podiatry school.

She’d been so sure he was the one, so sure she would love him forever and now she honestly couldn’t say why she’d married him. She supposed their lies had doomed them from the start—her getting pregnant without telling him, his getting a vasectomy without telling her. His cheating. Maybe, if they’d tried harder, they could have worked things out. Looking back, she had to admit she was glad they hadn’t. The divorce had been hard and she’d made a lot of mistakes, but over the past few months, she’d grown so much as a person. Her business was thriving. She and Dean could barely keep up with the work, and except for Terence, things were good with her daughter. Even Bunny moving out had been for the best.

Harper glanced at the clock and realized that while it was fun to pat herself on the back for her accomplishments, time was ticking and her to-do list was probably eighteen thousand items long.

She and Dean spent the rest of the day scheduling clients’ work. They’d each signed up for an escrow closing class at the community college, through the continuing education department, so only a single Saturday. They were concerned that wasn’t going to be detailed enough, so Dean was looking into online real estate licensing programs. If they weren’t too expensive, they would discuss if he should take the whole program, giving them a clearer understanding of what they could do to help Tanya. There were a lot of real estate agents in the area and if things worked out with her, they could easily expand.

Becca got home at her usual time, her new friend Shara in tow. The two teens took their dogs out back and began to practice agility. Thor loped alongside the other dogs, probably in solidarity, Harper thought. Dean headed out at four and somewhere close to five, Lucas let himself into the house.

“Hey,” he said as he walked into the family room.

“Hey, yourself.”

He crossed to her and put his hands on her shoulders, as he looked into her eyes. He often did that—studying her face as if wanting to assure himself everything was as it should be. Or maybe that was simply her imagination working overtime. Maybe he was thinking she was just so old, but he would deal with it because it wasn’t as if she could grow younger.

The thought made her smile, which had him asking, “What’s so funny?”

“I’m proud of how well you’re dealing with my ancientness.”

He kissed her. “I’m an exceptional human being.”

“You are.”

He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of him, the heat from his body, how good she felt when he was around.

“Did you rip Terence a new one?” he asked lightly, still hugging her.

“I did. He yammered and swore he was going to do better.” She drew back and looked at Lucas. “You know I don’t care for myself.”

“You’re worried about Becca. Hell, I’m worried about Becca. That jerk doesn’t deserve to be her father.”

His words were nearly as fierce as his tone. Somewhere deep in her chest, she felt a tightening. Nothing unpleasant—more of a warm feeling that he was someone she could trust with pretty much anything. Her work, her daughter, her heart.

“Want some coffee?” she asked, stepped away and turning toward the kitchen.

“It’s a little late in the day.”

“Oh, right. How about a glass of wine?”

She didn’t care what she offered, she only knew she had to keep moving, because to not stay in motion meant she was going to have to deal with what she’d just realized.

In a way she wasn’t sure if she should laugh, cry, throw up or run screaming into the ocean. Somewhere between orgasms, she’d fallen for Lucas. What had started as easy and fun had turned serious—at least for her.

“You okay?” he asked, following her.

She turned and offered what she hoped was a bright, reassuring smile. “Never better. I’m empowered by telling off Terence. I think I should take up karate or something.”

Lucas studied her for a second, then smiled. “I’d pay money to see that.”

“Interesting. Let me work up a proposal and we’ll take it from there.”

He chuckled and she reached for a bottle of wine. The crisis had been averted, at least for now.

* * *

Becca paused for a full one-two count at the stop sign before driving through the intersection. She was driving in her car, by herself, for only the third time ever. She was both scared and excited and wanted to do a little dance in her seat, but that would mean taking her attention off what she was doing and she couldn’t. She turned onto Sepulveda and headed north, toward Hermosa Beach, where her dad lived with Alicia.

He’d surprised her by texting her and inviting her to dinner. After their last conversation, she’d thought maybe he’d changed, but then he’d totally disappeared and once again she’d been forced to see he didn’t care about her at all. His text had really surprised her and even though she told herself he hadn’t changed and she was dumb if she trusted him, she couldn’t help hoping he would want to spend more time with her.

Sometimes Becca wondered if maybe her dad hadn’t wanted children at all. She knew her parents had been married for a while before her mom got pregnant, so it wasn’t like they’d had to get married, but still. In her heart, she wasn’t sure what her dad thought about her. He’d always been kind of not there, but things had gotten worse after the divorce and once he’d met Alicia, it was like she didn’t exist anymore. Except for the trip up to Grass Valley, she hadn’t spent more than a few hours with him in the past year.

She turned left and drove toward the water. Her dad’s house was about four blocks from the beach. Parking was impossible, but he’d promised to leave the tiny driveway empty for her to use. She pulled into it, careful to ease her car all the way up to the garage door, then turned off the engine and took a breath.

She’d done it! Maybe, in a few weeks, she would be ready to go on the freeway by herself.

She was smiling at the thought when she knocked on the front door. Alicia answered almost right away. Her new stepmother looked at her, sighed, then called, “She’s here,” before walking away without inviting Becca in.

Becca hesitated, not sure what she was supposed to do. Did she go in? Wait outside? Before she could decide, her dad appeared.

“Hi, Becca.” He held open the door, then hugged her when she walked inside. “The drive okay?”

“It was. Thanks for letting me park in the driveway.”

“No problem. You’ll get the hang of parallel parking when you’ve had more practice.”

She started to say she was going to ask Lucas to give her more lessons, then hesitated. Her mom and Lucas were dating now, so was it okay to talk about him? She groaned softly. Parents divorcing, dating and remarrying was complicated. They should be more sure before they got married in the first place.

“Come on upstairs,” her dad said. “We’re going to eat on the rooftop patio. I’m barbecuing.”

Her dad’s house was typical for Hermosa Beach. Tall, skinny houses were squeezed onto tiny lots, so houses went up rather than out. Only the garage was on the street level. There was a half staircase, then a bedroom, another half staircase to a second bedroom and laundry room. The third level was the biggest with a kitchen, dining area and living room. The fourth level had another small bedroom and a rooftop deck with a view of the ocean.

She and her dad went into the kitchen. Becca didn’t see Alicia anywhere. The other woman had never liked her much and Becca had no idea why. She sure couldn’t be mad because Becca’s dad spent too much time with his daughter.

Her dad walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a diet soda. “Ice?” he asked as he got out a glass.

“Sure. Thanks.”

He poured her drink, then picked up a glass of white wine before motioning for her to go into the living room. When they were seated on the long sectional, he angled toward her.

“I’m glad you were able to stop by. I want to talk to you about something.”

Becca put her drink on the coffee table, careful to use a coaster, then wiped her hands on her jeans. She didn’t like how her dad was looking at her or the tone of his voice. He was going to tell her something bad—she could feel it.

Her father cleared his throat. “I don’t know if your mom ever mentioned the reason we didn’t have more children.”

“What? No. Why would we talk about that?” She’d always accepted being an only child. There had been plenty of kids to play with on the street and her mom was always there for her, so it hadn’t been a problem.

“Oh, I thought she might have...” He paused. “I had an operation so I couldn’t have more children.”

“Dad, gross. Stop.”

“I’m only telling you that because shortly after Alicia and I started dating, I had the surgery reversed.” His gaze grew pointed. “I can have children now.”

“I get it,” she began, then stopped as an unpleasant possibility seeped into her brain. “She made you do it, didn’t she? Alicia. She wouldn’t marry you if she couldn’t have kids with you.”

Her father looked away. “Becca,” he began, his tone strained, as if there was more. As if...

“No. No! You can’t. It’s going to change everything. It’s going to make it worse. You’re not around now. With a baby...” She felt her eyes burning and started for the stairs.

“Becca, wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would happen so fast. I thought we’d have more time to get things right between us.”

She stopped on the landing and glared at him. “A baby is going to change everything and you know it.”

“Becca, wait. Don’t go. Stay for dinner.”

“Why? Alicia doesn’t even speak to me. She doesn’t want me here, and you don’t, either. I don’t know why you wanted me to come over at all. You could have just texted me.”

She ran down the rest of the stairs and out to her car. Once she’d started the engine, she thought for a second about where she was going to go. Not home. She wasn’t ready to tell her mom about the baby and there was no way she could get past her without her mom knowing something was wrong.

She checked the traffic before carefully backing out of the driveway, then headed back to Mischief Bay. Twenty-five minutes later, she parked in front of a small house with a well-kept lawn. She’d only been here once before, when her mom had dropped off something. She wasn’t even sure why she’d come, although it might have something to do with having nowhere else to go.

She got out and walked to the front door. It opened before she could knock.

Lucas smiled at her. “What’s up, kid? Everything okay?”

She burst into tears.

Without saying anything, he pulled her inside and wrapped his arms around her. She had no idea how long she cried or what he had to be thinking. He probably thought she was a pain in the ass, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t—everything hurt too much. Her heart felt like it had been beat up and the rest of her ached.

Finally, she was able to breathe without crying and stepped back. Lucas brought her into the living room and pointed to the sofa, then disappeared down a short hall. He was back seconds later with a tissue box, which he handed to her before sitting on the coffee table and studying her.

“What?” he asked.

She blew her nose a couple of times and tried to speak. More sobs clogged her throat and blinded her. She covered her face with her hands and tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, only it did. It had for a long time and now it was going to be awful forever.

“Alicia’s pregnant,” she managed to say. “She’s going to have a baby and my dad had to have an operation and he did it and now she’s pregnant.”

She blew her nose again and wiped her face. “He wasn’t there before and now he’s never going to be there. I’ve seen Aunt Stacey and Uncle Kit with JW and she’s all that matters. Babies get everything. I’m just some kid he used to care about.”

Lucas moved to the sofa and put his arm around her. She turned toward him and sobbed into his shoulder.

“I hate him. I’ll hate him forever.”

“I know, kid.”

She looked up. “Aren’t you going to tell me it’s wrong to say I’ll hate my dad? Aren’t you going to tell me it’s going to be all right? That he still loves me and of course he’ll be there for me?”

He tucked her hair behind her ear, then kissed her forehead before sighing. “Would you believe me if I did?”

“No, but adults do it all the time.”

“I’m sorry about your dad. I do think he loves you a lot, but he’s not handling the situation as well as he could.”

She sniffed. “That’s it?”

“That’s all I’ve got.”

She leaned against him again as she thought about his words. They hurt, but not in a mean way, and in her heart, she knew he was right about all of it.

“It hurts a lot,” she whispered.

“I know. It’s going to hurt for a long time.”

She sat up and glared at him. “You’re not very good at comforting people, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told. Want to go get something to eat?”

She nodded. “I need to wash my face first. And I might cry during dinner.”

“I’ve dealt with worse.”

She got up. “Thanks for listening.”

“No problem. I’m here for you, Becca. No matter what happens, you can count on me.”

“Thank you.”

She headed for the bathroom. Funny how she didn’t believe anything her dad said, but she totally trusted Lucas. He would be there for her, and at least that was something.

* * *

Thursday morning Harper glanced at the caller ID and groaned. “It’s Cathy.”

Dean looked appropriately outraged. “You tell that bitch we don’t serve her kind.”

Harper grinned. “You weren’t even here for the infamous party bag incident, and the truth is I only have myself to blame, so there.” She hit the speaker button on the phone. “Hello, this is Harper.”

“Hi, Harper, it’s Cathy. I haven’t talked to you in forever. How are things?”

“Busy. Incredibly busy. How can I help you, Cathy?”

“I need some gift bags for a party and this is a rush job. It’s fifty bags and I need them by next Thursday. It’s a really big deal for me so I know you’ll make it work, won’t you, hon?”

Dean rolled his eyes and mouthed, “Tell her to pound sand.”

“I’m afraid I’m booked up for the next few weeks,” Harper said instead.

“What? You can’t be. Harper, I know you were upset about the order before and maybe I shouldn’t have undercut your price so much, but come on. You said you wanted to be paid twenty-five dollars an hour. I think that’s a ridiculous amount, but maybe for this one project...”

“That price doesn’t include rush work,” Harper told her. “To fit you in, I’d have to move some other projects and potentially upset regular clients. There would be a premium for me to do that.”

“Let me guess,” Cathy said, her voice thick with anger. “It will be amazingly close to what you wanted me to pay you last time.”

“I hadn’t thought of that, but it’s a start.” Harper took a breath. “Cathy, I find the work I do for you a lot of fun. The bags are always beautiful and I enjoy the challenge, but like everyone else, I have to make a living. You’ve always wanted to undercut my prices. You expect me to use the most expensive supplies, take a lot of time making everything perfect, and then not pay for it. I’m unwilling to do that anymore. What I charge is what I charge. If you’re not happy with that, then I encourage you to go elsewhere.”

“You’re going to be sorry you treated me this way.”

“Actually, what I’m sorry for is how I let you treat me. I take responsibility for it—you were trying to get away with something and I let you. Just know it won’t happen again. Now, would you like to talk about the bags?”

“Go to hell.” Cathy hung up.

Harper pushed the button to end the call, then wondered if she was going to regret losing the client. For a second, there was a whisper of fear, but then her overriding sense was one of satisfaction.

“You go, girl.” Dean held up his hand for a high five. “You were polite, firm and told her what for. I love it! Plus, I have no idea where we would find time to make any bags she would want. You showed me the pictures of those ones you did. Lordy, there had to be at least a half hour in each of them.”

“It was a lot,” she agreed.

“Mom?”

Harper turned and saw Becca in the doorway to her office. Her daughter looked pale and upset. Harper touched her forehead. She felt cool and her eyes were clear.

“What’s wrong, sweetie? Is your stomach upset? Do you think you ate something funny at your dad’s last night?”

Becca had gotten home close to nine and had taken Jazz for a walk. This morning she’d been up and out early. Harper had barely seen her.

Her daughter’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m not sick. It’s something else.”

Fear twisted Harper’s stomach. A million possibilities battled for dominance. Pregnancy, drugs, rape, a car accident, bullying.

“That’s my cue to go run some errands,” Dean said, walking past them. He patted Becca on the shoulder. “Feel better, little one.”

Becca gave him a faint smile.

When he was gone, Harper drew Becca to the chair by the desk. They both sat down and Harper took her daughter’s hand in hers.

“Tell me, baby. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together, I promise. I’m here. Tell me.”

Becca squeezed her fingers before pulling back and staring at Harper intently. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you.”

The fear grew until it filled her chest and made it impossible to breathe. Becca wasn’t sick—Harper knew that much. She never went to the doctor by herself and she was under eighteen, so the office would have notified her. If she wasn’t sick, then everything else could be fixed.

“Just say it, honey. It’s okay.”

“Alicia’s pregnant.”

Harper mentally scrolled through her daughter’s friends, trying to come up an Alicia, only to realize her daughter meant Terence’s new wife.

“Dad told me last night. He said he had an operation so he could have kids again and she’s pregnant.” Becca began to cry. “I know it’s going to be bad for you and I want to talk about that, but what about me? He’s never there now and he’s never going to be there again. He’s only going to care about the baby.”

Harper stood and pulled Becca to her feet, then held her tight. “Oh, Becca, I’m so sorry you’re having to deal with this. I wish I could change things. I can’t believe he told you all that. It’s awful.”

“It was gross,” her daughter admitted. “I was mad and hurt and I didn’t know what to say.”

“What did you do?”

“I left.”

“Good for you.” Harper brushed away her tears. “I know I’m supposed to tell you not to run from your problems but this time, it was the right decision. What were you supposed to say? And then to sit and have dinner with you-know-who? No way.”

“You’re not upset?”

Harper tried to figure out what she was feeling. Regret? Anger? Disappointment? “Not for myself,” she said, figuring it out as she went. “I was mad when your dad got the vasectomy. He didn’t tell me until I began to wonder why I didn’t get pregnant again. You were easy.”

“Please let’s not talk about that.”

Harper smiled at her. “Okay, I won’t, except to say I loved having you so much, I wanted more children. Your dad finally came clean. I guess it hurts a little that he didn’t want more children with me, but I’m okay with it now. I have you and that’s the most important thing in the world.” She hugged her daughter again. “What matters now is you.”

“I never want to see him again. He’s awful and I hate him.”

“You don’t hate him.”

Becca groaned. “Fine. I don’t hate him but I almost hate him.”

“You’re hurt and you feel betrayed. That’s going to take some time to deal with.”

Her daughter took a step back and glared at her. “You’re going to say I still have to see him.”

“I am.”

“Even after this?”

“Yes. He’s your father and when you’re eighteen, you can make your own decisions about seeing him or not. Until then...” Harper thought about all Becca had been through. “You don’t have to get in touch with him if you don’t want to. You can wait for him to contact you. If he wants to set something up, you’ll go.”

“And if he doesn’t show?”

A very likely occurrence, Harper thought grimly. “If your dad blows you off again, I’ll talk to him. If you want, I’ll tell him you aren’t willing to see him until he can keep his promises.”

Becca’s eyes widened. “What if he gets mad? What if he wants to take you to court?”

“We’ll deal. I love you, Becca. I want you to be happy and I’m going to keep you safe. I’m more than capable of standing up to your dad for you.”

“Oh, Mom.”

Becca threw herself at Harper and squeezed so tight, Harper couldn’t breathe. But it was a good pain. The best pain. It came from love.

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