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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

C allan felt as wrung out as a used dish towel.

“You can do this,” Hannah whispered in his ear near the front door. She’d already gathered Mom’s things into her small suitcase. “You have to do it.”

“I know. I know you’re right. I will.” He didn’t add the I promise to the end of his statement. How many times had he said that and then failed?

Too many.

He closed the door behind his sister, then pressed his forehead to it.

Hannah was right about everything. Well, most things. Yes, he had to step up and act like Peri’s father.

But he didn’t share her confidence that he could do it, certainly not well.

That was what nagged him. He didn’t like to tackle things without a plan, without the confidence that he could not only manage but do great. Succeed. Overachieve.

He’d done all of the above in college, then in the Army, then with the Agency. He’d risen in the ranks. He’d been praised for his achievements.

How did one achieve with raising a little girl? How would he know if he was doing it right or failing miserably? What if he messed it up? He didn’t care how it would make him look, though that had always been a huge motivator for him. He cared about Peri. If he messed it up, messed her up, he’d never forgive himself.

Even if he could, eventually, learn how to be the father Peri deserved, that wouldn’t change the issues he was dealing with right now. He couldn’t keep Peri with him until he’d extricated himself from the Alyssa-and-Ghazi situation.

He’d have to leave her here with Mom and Dad for the time being. It would be hard on them after Dad’s heart attack, but Peri was incredibly self-sufficient for an eight-year-old. She’d had to be.

Megan hadn’t given her much choice.

Familiar fury rose like bile, but he had no right to judge Megan for her choices when his own were so questionable. He grabbed the bags he’d left on the stairs and climbed to the second floor.

His daughter’s bedroom door was open, and Peri and Alyssa were lying on their stomachs on the floor, coloring and chatting like old friends. They were facing away from him, both their legs swinging up and then plopping down on the area rug, casual as could be.

“And so then,” Peri said, “she told me she was taller than me, but I was like, nuh-uh, because I’m like, way taller than her. So Nell said we should get back-to-back, and then everyone said I’m the tallest girl in the whole class.”

“No way.” Alyssa sounded duly impressed. “That’s awesome.”

“Uh-huh. And then the kids were mean to her, but I told them to be nice because it’s hard to tell if you’re taller than someone when you’re looking at them, right?”

Alyssa rolled to her side, her back to Callan. She propped herself up on an elbow, her hand supporting her head. “You’re a really cool kid, you know that?”

Peri shrugged. “I just know what it’s like to not have friends. When I first moved here, I didn’t have any. So I try to be nice. And now she’s my friend.”

“The girl who was mean to you?”

“Uh-huh. Emma. She’s a cheerleader, and she thinks I’ll be good, even though she says I’ll be taller than all the other girls, she says it’s okay, that I can be a base like her, so we can practice together, but we’ll need shorter girls to climb on our shoulders and do tricks and stuff.”

Cheerleading? Peri wanted to be a cheerleader ?

Of course she wouldn’t choose to play a sport he knew something about, softball or basketball or soccer or even field hockey. Something he could actually help with.

He had a flash of the cheerleaders from his high school days, those adorable girls with their big smiles and short skirts.

He’d need a way to signal all the high school boys that he wasn’t a father to be trifled with. Casually mention his military and Agency history. Start carrying a sidearm. And billy club. Just in case.

“That makes sense.” Alyssa rolled back to her stomach and resumed coloring. “You’ll need to ask your daddy about cheerleading when you get a chance.”

Right. She had to ask him. He could just say no.

Couldn’t he?

No clue.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Though they’d sounded happy enough, when they turned to face him, neither looked happy to see him.

Great. He refused to let his smile falter. “You’d better get your jammies on, Sweet Pea.”

“Aw,” Alyssa said. “But I’m not tired!”

He laughed. “Not you.” He shook his head, focusing on his daughter. “She’s a goober.”

Peri’s hundred-watt smile dimmed to sixty when she aimed it at him.

He helped Alyssa to her feet. “You’ll sleep in the sewing room.”

“I figured, but there are fabric scraps?—”

“Just pile them up and set them on the table. Mom won’t care.” He handed her the bag of things she’d bought that day. “Make yourself comfortable, then meet me in the kitchen so we can talk.” She’d been researching Ghazi all day, but he’d yet to find out what she’d learned, too distracted by Dad’s health and Peri’s care. “I’ve got to tuck Sweet Pea back into her pod.” He winked at Peri, who didn’t get his joke at all.

“Sounds comfy.” Alyssa kissed Peri on the head. “See you in the morning. Sleep well.”

He tried not to get his feelings hurt at the forlorn look on Peri’s face as she watched Alyssa leave.

Fifteen minutes later, teeth brushed and pajamas on, Peri picked out a book and climbed under the covers. “Gigi’s been reading me this one.”

It was Sarah, Plain and Tall , which he remembered from his own childhood. It had been one of Hannah’s favorites. He settled beside Peri on the bed, found the bookmark, and started to read.

He was barely two paragraphs in when Peri said, “Daddy?”

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“Is Papi going to be okay?”

He used his finger to mark his page and lowered the paperback to his lap, turning to face his daughter. Her brown eyes never failed to melt his heart. Right now, they were filled with anxiety. She hadn’t brushed her hair, and it was stringy and messy and absolutely adorable. She was everything a little girl should be.

Except happy.

“Now that we know there’s something wrong with his heart, the doctors will take good care of him. They’ll put him on medication. They’ll make sure he’s healthy.”

When she blinked, a tear slid down her cheek. “Okay.”

“Do you believe me?”

She nodded, but said, “You don’t know. Nobody can know.”

Her words were heavy with more knowledge than any eight-year-old should have. “You’re right, I don’t know what the future is going to bring. I know I have a God who loves me, and He loves you, and He knows what He’s doing, even if we don’t.”

He braced himself for a question about Megan, about how God could’ve taken Peri’s mommy away. But she didn’t ask it, not of him. Instead, she nodded for him to keep reading.

He finished two chapters, then sat with Peri while she said her prayers, which she ended with, “Please, don’t let Papi die.”

He added his own silent “Amen” to that. He shut off the light, kissed her forehead, and tucked her in. “I love you, Sweet Pea.”

She didn’t return the sentiment, never had, even though his mother had assured him that Peri did love him, that children naturally loved their parents.

She just didn’t trust him enough to say it.

“Will you stay until I fall asleep?” She voiced the question with a small and tentative voice.

He loved that she’d asked. She needed to know she wasn’t alone, and she needed to know he could be trusted.

As much as he was eager to get downstairs and talk to Alyssa, he lay down on top of the covers.

She snuggled up next to him, curling her back against his chest, and he wrapped his free arm around her and held her close. And prayed.

Lord, don’t let me screw this up. She deserves so much more than I can give her. She deserves so much more than I can ever be.

* * *

When Peri’s breathing deepened, when she’d been still for a solid five minutes, Callan eased off her bed and tiptoed out of her room.

He found Alyssa in front of her laptop at the kitchen table. He’d told her to get comfortable, but she still wore the jeans and pink blouse she’d bought that morning in Portland.

She looked up when he came in, so many questions in her eyes that he figured she was trying to decide which to start with.

He lifted his hand to hold her off. “You want a snack?”

“No.” But then, she wagged her head side to side. “Depends.”

He raided the pantry in search of…

Yes.

He snatched the bright red package, then poured them both glasses of milk and brought the treat to the table, along with two small plates and two napkins.

She pushed her laptop out of the way. “Milk and cookies?”

“The ultimate comfort food.” He settled beside her and pulled back the top of the package to reveal perfectly arranged peanut-shaped sandwich cookies. His favorite, which Mom always kept on hand just in case he popped in unannounced.

Alyssa took one and broke it in half. “Peanut butter has protein.”

“It’s practically health food.”

That earned a tiny grin, but it didn’t last. “You and Megan?”

Whoa. Of all the questions, he hadn’t expected that one. How had Alyssa figured out who Peri’s mother was?

As if reading his mind, she said, “Peri has her photograph on her bureau.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” He finished the cookie and sipped the milk, though he wasn’t feeling all that comfortable despite the comfort food. “It was…uh…” Why did he feel guilty, as if he’d betrayed this woman who’d never felt anything for him but scorn?

“When did it happen?” she asked.

“Senior year, right after the holiday break.”

She frowned. “I knew something was different that semester. She would never tell me…” Alyssa took another cookie, broke it in half, then in half again. “I’m sorry. I was shocked to hear about her death. I’m sure that was a terrible blow to both of you.”

He wasn’t sure what to say to that. He didn’t grieve Megan the way he probably should. He grieved for Peri. He grieved the lost time. Mostly, he worked very hard not to resent a dead woman.

“I just don’t understand why…” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. With everything going on, it doesn’t…”

But Callan wasn’t buying her brave face. He saw hurt in her eyes, the tightness around her mouth. Her best friend had started a serious relationship, had fallen in love, or so Megan had claimed, and had never told her.

“She didn’t want you to know,” Callan said.

“But why? I don’t understand why she wouldn’t…” Alyssa swallowed and looked away. “It explains why she avoided me after graduation. I reached out to her so many times. She never responded to my calls or texts, just ghosted me. I even mailed a letter to her parents’ house, thinking maybe she’d changed her number or something. But she never responded.”

Alyssa brushed cookie crumbs off her fingers and slid her hand around the milk. She didn’t sip, though, just spun it on the table. “I blamed myself. I thought I wasn’t a good enough friend, that I should have tried harder.” Alyssa met his eyes. “When I found out she’d died, I felt this weight of shame and guilt. I berated myself, trying to figure out what I could’ve done differently. What did I do to so offend her that she would keep your relationship secret? That she would hide…?”

Again, Alyssa looked away, but this time, tears shimmered in her eyes.

He slid his hand over hers on the kitchen table. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Alyssa. It was Megan. She had this weird idea that you would be hurt if you knew we were together.”

Alyssa looked at him again, eyes narrowed. He’d expected her to pull her hand away and was heartened when she didn’t. “Did she say why?”

“I know it’s nuts.” He laughed, suddenly feeling stupid for even saying it aloud. “She thought you had a crush on me.”

“Oh, right. She was always so sure.” Alyssa didn’t smile.

He guessed the reason. “I wondered sometimes why, if she thought you had a crush on me, she, uh…” Yeah. He probably shouldn’t finish that sentence.

“Why she what?”

“She sort of came after me, you know, like she was super into me. I didn’t know at the time that she thought you liked me. I didn’t know any of that until later.”

“What do you mean, she came after you?”

Callan remembered the night so well. A stupid party at the apartment he shared with five other guys. He hadn’t planned the party, but he’d certainly indulged in it. He’d had way too much to drink when Megan hit on him. Shirt too low, jeans too tight. Music too loud, dancing too close.

Bedroom too near.

The next morning, he’d woken up with a heavy dose of shame. He wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of guy, never had been, yet the evidence of his fall into debauchery was sleeping beside him. He’d barely known Megan, certainly not enough to know if he liked her or not. Certainly not well enough to take her to his bed.

Maybe it was a desire to redeem himself that had him suggesting they go on a date—a nice, innocent lunch date. When they did, Megan showed up looking not like the…well, he preferred not to think the word that he had used back then. She’d shown up looking like a normal girl. Long hair pulled back in a ponytail, big brown eyes, nerdy glasses. She’d sat across from him, cheeks red from embarrassment, and sworn she’d never done anything like that before.

“I don’t know what got into me,” she’d said. “I had a really rough time over Christmas with my family, and I just wanted to forget.”

He’d apologized for taking advantage. She’d apologized for throwing herself at him. And then they’d dated.

She’d seemed like the girl-next-door type who’d made one terrible decision and was trying to redeem it, just like he was.

He wouldn’t learn the truth about her until it was way too late.

The longer he took to answer, the squintier Alyssa’s eyes became. She’d gone back to her cookie, reducing it to a pile of crumbs on her plate, a shameful waste of a Nutter Butter.

Callan gave Alyssa the Cliffs Notes version of events. If anything, her expression became more suspicious as he talked.

“She told you she had a rough holiday?” At his nod, Alyssa said, “She and her family went skiing at Chamonix that Christmas.” He must’ve looked confused because Alyssa added, “In the French Alps. She told me it was the best vacation of her life.”

So Megan had lied to him. That didn’t surprise him at all.

“And the notion that she’d never done that before? She had a habit of sleeping with”—Alyssa waved toward him—“random people. Not that you’re random. You were targeted. I’m just saying…”

Again, Callan wasn’t surprised. It seemed wrong to speak ill of the dead, but what he’d learned about Megan was that she was conniving and deceitful whenever it suited her—and sometimes just for fun.

Too late—way too late—he’d learned the depth of her depravity.

“You know how she was.” Alyssa spoke as if Callan had broadcast his thoughts. “She wasn’t exactly a paragon of righteousness. But why you? There were thousands of good-looking men on campus. Why did she go after you?”

He grinned, focusing on exactly the wrong thing. “You think I’m good looking?”

“Almost as handsome as you think you are.”

He chuckled, but it sounded so out of place during the serious conversation that he clamped his lips shut.

“It was about me. I mean, no offense to you. You’re a catch, and I’m sure she had a thing for you, but…” Alyssa stared beyond him. “She thought I had a crush on you, and…and maybe she wanted to hurt me.”

“Do you know why?”

“Do you?”

He shook his head. “She never talked about you. She never said anything except that you’d be hurt if you knew.”

“Right. So obviously the point wasn’t to hurt me, or else she’d have told me.”

He’d been over all these questions a million times in the last few months. “I think the point was to beat you.”

“Oh.” Alyssa nodded slowly. “Yeah. That tracks. I mean, she was my friend, but she had some issues with… Well, she had some issues.”

It wasn’t as if Alyssa could tell Callan anything he hadn’t already figured out about Megan.

“Anyway, if her goal was to hurt you, then it was all for naught,” Callan said. “I tried to tell her that you didn’t have a crush on me and wouldn’t have cared…”

He lost his train of thought when Alyssa’s cheeks pinked in the harsh kitchen light.

“Right? You didn’t think about me that way.”

She reached for the bright red package, but he plopped his hand on top of hers. “Let’s not murder any more innocent cookies.” He gave the one she’d pulverized a pointed look, trying to sound lighthearted, but his heartbeat thumped as if its continuing to beat was contingent on her answer.

She sighed. “I might have had the teeniest crush on you.”

Far from making him smile, the words were a knife to his chest. He pulled away and settled his hands in his lap, staring at the table. He swallowed emotion crawling up his throat. Anger, frustration, and regret.

Alyssa sat unmoving across from him as if she sensed his turmoil.

He looked up. “I wish I’d known.”

“Why? What difference would it have made?”

“I had a crush on you too.”

She straightened, eyes widening. “What?”

“And it wasn’t teeny. It was… If I’d had any idea you shared my feelings, I wouldn’t have wasted one second with Megan.”

“I had no idea. I thought you found me…annoying.”

“Oh, I did. You were my only real competition. You think I want to be with a woman who can’t keep up with me intellectually? You think I want to spend my life with…”

His words trailed as two things occurred to him.

First, he had spent a whole lot of time with a woman who couldn’t keep up with him intellectually. Though, to her credit, Megan had run circles around him in other areas of life. Like deceit and trickery. She’d been much better at those things than he could ever hope to be.

And he’d been a CIA field agent.

Second, what was Callan doing, mentioning spending his life with Alyssa or anyone? Making it sound as if he’d been thinking of marriage—to Alyssa—way back in college?

He’d considered the idea that she’d make the perfect life partner. But he didn’t need to say so. Not now, when it was too late.

“I found you annoying too.” Alyssa infused humor into her words, though he got the feeling she was trying to lighten the mood. “And handsome, and funny. I always envied your ability to make friends, real friends. Everybody loved you. I figured you had your pick of women on campus. Why would you be interested in me?”

“Because you’re gorgeous and brilliant.”

Her smile was shy. She tugged her hand out from beneath his and snatched another cookie.

“You’d better eat that,” he said. “There are kids in Africa who don’t have peanut butter cookies.”

“I’m sure it’ll make a difference.” She took a tiny bite and swallowed. “Did you and Megan get married?”

“What? No, no. We spent a couple of months together, but we broke up before graduation. I went into the Army, she went to grad school, and we lost touch.”

Alyssa’s eyebrows rose. “So you just left her to deal with the baby by herself?”

Anger flashed hot. He pushed away from the table and stood. “I knew nothing about Peri. Nothing.” He snatched his glass of milk, downed the whole thing, then rinsed the glass and filled it with water. “You want some?”

“I’m fine.”

After taking a long sip, he leaned against the kitchen counter.

“Megan didn’t tell you she was pregnant?”

“We broke up. We graduated. I never talked to her again. I didn’t know about the car accident. I didn’t know anything.”

“How did you find out?”

“October, I got a phone call from Megan’s mother telling me about her death and asking to meet. I figured maybe she’d left something for me—a letter or… I didn’t know, and frankly, I didn’t care. But the woman had lost her daughter, so I figured I had to meet with her. I was out of the country but told her I’d reach out when I was back in Washington. I texted her, and an hour later, she and Megan’s father were on my doorstep—with Peri. She believed—like Peri believed, like her whole family believed—that Megan had told me about the baby and I’d refused to step up. She brought Peri there to guilt me into taking her.”

“You’re kidding. She just dropped it on you like that? And used her granddaughter?—?”

“Like mother, like daughter. I was furious and confused and probably handled it all very badly, but I instantly fell in love with my daughter. I set her up in my bedroom to watch a movie, then told Megan’s parents the truth. Her mother called me a liar. Her father believed every word I said, which told me a lot. He loved Megan, but he also knew what she was capable of.

“They started talking about how I needed to provide enough money to send Peri to boarding school, and that was it. I told them I’d take her, and a couple of days later, she came home with me.”

By home, he meant here, to his parents’ house.

Callan didn’t explain their reaction to finding out they had a seven-year-old granddaughter, equal parts joy and horror that he’d fathered a child out of wedlock, a child he’d known nothing about.

He didn’t explain his sheer terror at the prospect of being a daddy to a grieving little girl.

He didn’t explain how relieved he’d been when his parents had agreed to take her until he could transfer out of field work into something closer to home.

He didn’t explain how he’d known the Boston job was too far away but had been dragging his feet about finding something closer, even if it meant leaving the CIA. Not because he didn’t want to leave the Agency. His new job was dull as dirt. Not because he didn’t want to be with Peri. He did, more than anything.

But because he was scared he was going to mess it up even worse than he already had.

He didn’t tell Alyssa any of that.

“Your parents have had her all this time?”

He dipped his head in a nod and didn’t lift it again, too ashamed to meet Alyssa’s gaze.

“She’s your daughter? You’re sure?”

“The math works out, and I can see myself in her, a little. And…” He hated to admit this, but Alyssa was asking the question. And she knew Megan and what she was like. “I ran a DNA test, just to be certain, not that I told anybody.”

“Your secret’s safe.”

He could trust Alyssa. Of that, he had no doubt.

“Can I just say one thing?” Alyssa stood and approached him, slowly, as if he might bolt.

Which, honestly, he was tempted to do.

But in her expression, he saw nothing but understanding. “I can’t imagine how shocking it was to find out about Peri.” Alyssa’s head dipped to the side. “Is her name…?” Alyssa smiled, shaking her head. “She actually named her daughter Persephone.”

“How in the world did you guess that?”

“Megan always said she was going to name her daughter Persephone and her son Atlas.”

“At least Atlas is a tough-guy name. Persephone lived in Hades with the dead. This is why children have two parents, so if one comes up with a ridiculous name, the other can talk her out of it.”

“Among other reasons. But didn’t the goddess Persephone bring springtime? Isn’t that her myth?”

He loved that Alyssa knew that.

As if hearing his thoughts, she said, “Megan used to talk about mythology a lot. She loved the drama and intrigue of it.”

Sounded like Megan. She loved drama enough that she’d created it all the time. “In that sense, the name fits. Peri is the epitome of sunshine and spring.”

“I agree.” Alyssa leaned against the counter opposite him. “Hey, Callan?”

Her serious tone had him tensing. “Hmm?”

“I overheard some of your conversation with your sister. And so did Peri.”

He cringed, wiping his hand down his face as if he could wipe away the truth that, one more time, he’d injured his sweet little girl. “I thought you were with her.” The words came out like an accusation. “I thought you two were upstairs.”

“I went to the bathroom. I didn’t realize you wanted me to keep her up there. The point is, Hannah is right. You need to figure out how to be a father.”

“I know that.” His volume was too high, and with effort, he lowered it. “You think I don’t know that. It’s not that simple.”

“Sure it is. Move her to Boston with you.”

“And put her in public school in the city? No way am I tossing my precious girl into that.” He’d done just enough research to know it wasn’t an option. He’d gone to rural country schools, safe schools. Not the kinds of schools that had metal detectors and uniformed cops roaming the hallways.

“Private school, then.”

“Not all of us come from wealth, Paris.” He was angry, and he was taking it out on Alyssa. It wasn’t her fault, but he’d been hearing the same message in stereo for months. He didn’t need to hear it tonight.

“Then quit your job and?—”

“Some of us have bills to pay.”

“I understand bills. I also understand you have a family that’s willing to help you. You and I both know you could find another job or start your own business and do great at it. You don’t need the Agency to be successful.”

“It’s not that simple.” He realized he’d just said that. Was it true? Or was he just making excuses? “Raising a kid all by myself…”

“Megan did it, right? Or did her parents help her?”

Her parents hadn’t helped her, not a bit. When she told them she was pregnant, they’d demanded she get an abortion. When she’d insisted on having the baby, they’d suggested she put her up for adoption.

When Megan refused, they’d told her she was on her own.

If nothing else, Callan was beyond grateful that Megan had at least gotten a few things right. His daughter was alive and well, and Callan was in her life now.

Megan had never told her parents who Peri’s father was, but she’d added his name to Peri’s birth certificate, which was how her parents had found him. Because of that, Peri hadn’t ended up in foster care or boarding school.

It said something about the kind of people her parents were that they’d told him all of that without the slightest hint of shame.

Alyssa must’ve read his expression because she said, “For seven years, Megan raised her, alone.”

“She didn’t have to. She could’ve asked me. I’d have supported her.”

“Not my point.”

Deflect. Change the subject. Anything to keep from having to face his own inadequacies.

“You claim you love her,” Alyssa said, “but you don’t.”

“Watch it, Paris.” His voice was low, humming with warning. “You have no idea how I feel.”

“Love isn’t something you feel, Callan. It’s something you do . And you know what it looks like to children? It looks like care. It looks like breakfast every morning and story time every night and all the little things that happen in between. It looks like coloring books and bath time and Christmas trees and presents and cheerleading lessons, even if those lessons are all the way in Augusta. Love is listening to their stories and praying with them and putting princess bandages on their booboos. To children, love is time .”

He wanted to close his eyes and cover his ears like a little boy. He didn’t want to hear this, no matter how true it was.

“So don’t tell me you love her.” Alyssa’s tone was gentle now. “Your feelings are irrelevant. Your actions matter.”

Just like Mom and Dad and Hannah, Alyssa was right.

Callan wanted to love Peri. He planned to love her. He intended to love her. But how often did he actually show her he loved her? And if he didn’t show her, then it didn’t matter at all.

“You need to prove to Peri that she’s worth any sacrifices you have to make or she’s going to grow up believing all the lies Megan told her.”

He knew the vitriol her mother had dripped into his innocent daughter’s heart. That he didn’t love her. That he didn’t have time for her. That he couldn’t even bother to send a check.

“I hate to say it, Callan.” Alyssa stepped across the kitchen and gripped his arm. “Every day you don’t prove Megan wrong, you’re proving her right.”

Despite the kindness in Alyssa’s expression, her words were buckshot, piercing his skin.

His parents and his sister had been pestering him, nagging him, and guilting him for months, but none of them had ever put it like that.

It wasn’t that Callan cared a whit about proving his vindictive ex-girlfriend right or wrong for his own sake. Megan was gone, killed in a senseless car accident.

But in proving Megan right, he was proving to be exactly the opposite man from who he wanted to be. He didn’t want to be selfish. He wanted more than anything to be like his own father, generous and overflowing with love.

He would figure out a way to be Peri’s father. He’d figure out a way to prove to his daughter how much he loved her.

Even if it cost him everything else in the world, Callan was going to become Peri’s father. He was going to love her and take care of her.

As soon as Alyssa was safe.