and Mama and told you I was pregnant. I knew you'd be angry and hurt and
disappointed. I was so scared. But as bad as I thought it would be, it
was worse. Because you didn't stand by me. The second time, Daddy, and
the most important of all, and you weren't there for me."
"A man's daughter comes in and tells him she's pregnant, that she's gone
on and been with a man he took trouble to warn her away from, it takes
him time to deal with it."
"You were ashamed of me, and you were angry thinking of what the
neighbors were going to say. And instead of looking at me and seeing
that I was scared, all you saw was that I'd made a mistake you were
going to have to live with."
She turned away until she was sure, absolutely sure, there wouldn't be
tears. "Aubrey is not a mistake. She's a gift."
"I couldn't love her any more than I do."
"Or me any less."
"That's not true." He began to feel sick inside and more than a little
scared himself. "That's just not true."
"You stepped back when I married Jack. Stepped back from me."
"You did some stepping back yourself."
"Maybe." She turned around again. "I tried to make it once without you,
putting my money away for New York. I couldn't do it on my own. I was
going to make my marriage work without any help. But I couldn't do that,
either. All I had left was the baby inside me, and I wasn't going to
fail there, too. You never even came to the hospital when I had her."
"I did." Groping, he picked up a magazine from the table, rolled it into
a tube. "I went up and looked at her through the glass. She looked just
like you did. Long legs and long fingers and nothing but yellow fuzz on
her head. I went and looked in your room. You were asleep. I couldn't go
in. I didn't know what to say to you."
He unrolled the magazine, frowned at the fresh-faced model on the cover,
then dropped it back on the table. "I guess it made me mad all over
again. You'd had a baby, and you didn't have a husband, and I didn't
know what to do about it. I've got strong beliefs about that kind of
thing. It's hard to bend."
"I didn't need you to bend very much."
"I kept waiting for you to give me the chance to. I thought when that
son of a bitch ran out on you, you'd figure out you needed some help and
come home."
"So you could have told me how right you were about everything."
Something flickered in his eyes that might have been sorrow. "I guess I
deserve that, I guess that's what I would've done." He sat down again.
"And damn it, I was right."
She gave a half laugh, weary around the edges. "Funny how the men I love
are always so damn right where I'm concerned. Am I what you'd call a
delicate woman, Daddy?"
For the first time in too long to remember she saw his eyes laugh.
"Hell, girl, about as delicate as a steel rod."
"That's something, anyway."
"I always wished you had a little more give in you. Instead of coming
once, just once, and asking for help, you're out there cleaning other