Chapter 28
There were no messages on Maris’s phone.
She tried Noah’s cell, but a recording informed her that the number she had called was unavailable. Terribly worried now, she dialed the house telephone.
Daniel answered on the second ring.
She slumped with relief, but her greeting sounded like a reprimand. “Dad, where have you been?”
“Most recently I’ve been to the bathroom. Did I forget to ask permission?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to jump down your throat. It’s just that I’ve been trying to reach you all day. I didn’t know you’d gone to the country until I talked to Maxine. Since then, I’ve called repeatedly.”
“This is the first time the telephone has rung. I noticed just before coming upstairs to bed that the receiver on the telephone in the kitchen was askew. Apparently Noah didn’t hang it up properly when he called in a food delivery.”
More likely he had left it off the hook deliberately, knowing she would want to talk to her father. He knew she would be crazy with worry when she couldn’t reach him. Was this Noah’s mean form of punishment for her leaving him? It was amazing how clearly she could see his true nature now. What had kept her blind to it for so many years? A book, she thought, scornful of her own na?veté.
Well, she was no longer naive. She wanted him gone, expunged from their lives. She couldn’t stand his being a member of their family for another day. Why wait to tell her father about the dissolution of her marriage?
Fortunately, she came to her senses before she could act on the impulse.
First of all, that would necessitate a lengthy discussion, and it was as late in Massachusetts as it was on St. Anne Island. Second, that was a conversation that should be conducted face-to-face, especially since it involved their business interests as well as their personal lives.
Setting her enmity for Noah aside for the time being, she asked Daniel if he was all right.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Since I hadn’t talked to you, I had imagined all sorts of things.”
“None of them good, I’ll bet. The way I used to worry if you were ten minutes late coming home.”
“Have our roles reversed, Dad?”
“Not at all. I still worry about you if you’re ten minutes late. But rest assured that I’ve had a very pleasant day.”
Starting with a mystery guest for breakfast. She wanted to ask him about that but couldn’t without giving away that Maxine had tattled on him. She hoped he would volunteer the information. “What did you do that made your day so pleasant?”
“Nothing much, and that was the beauty of it.”
“Was the house in order when you arrived?”
“Spic and span.”
“Where did you go for dinner? Harry’s or another of your favorite spots?”
“We ate in. I thought Noah would have told you.”
“When?”
“When you called this afternoon. I came downstairs just as he was hanging up.”
She opened her mouth but closed it without saying anything. Noah had lied to him. Apparently Daniel had caught the tail end of a telephone conversation, and Noah had pretended it was she. Damn him!
“Maybe he did mention it and I forgot.”
“Not surprising,” he said, seeming to have missed the anger in her voice. “You’ve got a lot on your mind. How’s the book coming?”
“Great, actually. The story is really percolating now. It’s amazing to watch how the writer’s mind works. I’ve never been this involved with the creative process, and it’s fascinating.”
“I can tell that you’re enjoying it.”
“Immensely.”
“And the author? Still the curmudgeon?”
“Either he’s mellowing or I’m becoming accustomed to him. I don’t know which.”
“Probably a little of both.”
“Probably.”
Maris sensed him hesitating. Then he said, “I’m glad you heeded your instincts and went back to work with him.”
“So am I, Dad. It was the right decision. I’m positive of that.”
“You’re happy there? With the work? With everything?”
“Yes. Very,” she said quietly.
“Good. You deserve to be, Maris.”
To anyone listening, the conversation sounded innocent enough. But given the one they’d had directly before her departure from New York, she knew that her father was conveying more than he was saying.
He knew she’d been unhappy with Noah and their marriage. It wouldn’t surprise her if he knew about Noah’s infidelity. Daniel Matherly was known for his ability to ferret out secrets. During her last visit with him, she had hardly kept secret her feelings for Parker. Without naming him, she had talked about him nonstop with the uncontainable excitement of someone falling in love.
This roundabout conversation was her dad’s way of letting her know that he sanctioned it.
She swallowed a knot of emotion. “I needed to hear your voice, Dad.”
“It’s good to hear yours, too.”
“I’m sorry I disturbed you so late.”
“You could never disturb me, but in any case, I wasn’t asleep.”
“I’ll call you again tomorrow. No, wait.”
Considering the lies Noah had told today, the thought of him being with her father like the faithful son-in-law for the remainder of the weekend turned her stomach. He probably had in mind to get chummy, to get on Daniel’s good side. Maybe he planned to make a tearful confession and plead his case with Daniel before Maris told him about their separation.
Not if she could help it.
“Dad, I’d like to send Maxine up there tomorrow. She’s been dying to go to the country and see the summer flowers in bloom. Would you mind?”
“Flowers…” He harrumphed skeptically, letting her know the excuse was transparent. “I’ve had only one day’s peace away from her. But,” he sighed, “if it would make you feel better…”
“It would make me feel better. I’ll call her first thing in the morning.” It relieved her to know that Maxine would drop everything and go at a moment’s notice. She could be there well before noon. “Call me when she arrives, so I’ll know she made the drive safely.”
“All right, sweetheart. I’ll call you tomorrow. And Maris?”
“Yes.”
“Make the most of your time there. Don’t deny yourself the happiness being there gives you. Don’t worry about anything. Are you listening to your old dad? Everything is going to work out well. Will you trust me on that, sweetheart?”
“I always have.” She leaned her cheek into the small telephone, wishing it were his spotted, wrinkled hand. “Good night, Dad. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”