The Truth about Family. Kimberly Meter Van
minutes later he was sliding his ID card into the back door of the police station, silently fuming. It had taken every ounce of training he possessed not to speed down the snow-covered streets of the quiet town as he drove to pick up his only child. This was becoming an all-too frequent occurrence and he didn’t know what to do about it.
“Hey, Col.” Joe Boland waved and gestured toward the holding cell. But before he could enter, Joe stopped him, his face grave. “They had to book her this time. I’m sorry.”
Colin pressed his lips together but nodded in understanding. “With what?”
“Possession,” he answered. When Colin swore and shook his head, Joe tried lessening the blow. “It was just a bit of weed—a misdemeanor—but she’s going to have to go to court. I think Marty’s already processed the citation, you can probably take her home.”
Colin thanked Joe for his help. This wasn’t the first time Danni had been caught hanging with a group of kids with a shady reputation, but the officers had let her off with a warning. This time, Colin knew, she’d gone too far. He couldn’t expect his buddies to keep covering for her. It wasn’t right. The law was the law.
A sense of loss filled him as he pushed open the holding cell door. Where was his little girl? And was she ever coming back?
Colin’s heart contracted at the sight of Danni slumped in the metal-backed chair, chewing at the cuticle on her index finger as she stared glumly at the dull metal table. She looked up as he entered the room, her expression changing quickly to the picture of defiance but not before he saw the relief in her eyes. Colin ignored the pain that lanced through him and made a curt gesture for them to leave. “Let’s go. You’re supposed to be at your Aunt Sara’s. She’s probably worried sick.”
“Yeah, right.” Danni shoved away from the table, the legs scraping against the old tile floor, as she shouldered her backpack and stalked past Colin with more attitude than an MTV diva on concert night.
“An attitude like that won’t land you anywhere but more trouble, young lady,” he said to her back as they walked out of the station and into the biting cold. He hit the automatic door lock on his key ring and both locks popped up in unison. “You’re in enough trouble as it is. Do you have any idea what could have happened to you out there? The weather alone made it dangerous, never mind the company you’ve recently taken up with. And what about your homework? Or the fact that you have school tomorrow?”
“Whatever.” Danni jerked the door open and slid in, noticing after she took her seat that there was a dog in the back. Startled, she dropped her scowl long enough to give him a questioning look. “What’s with the dog?”
“The shelter’s closed and, as you can tell, there’s a bad storm. I didn’t want her to freeze to death,” he answered, amazed he was able to keep from yelling. He was so mad he was shaking.
“How sweet,” she said, reverting back to the sour-faced teen that he’d found sitting at the station. She gave the dog a long look then wrinkled her nose. “It smells like wet dog in here.”
“And you smell like cigarettes and stale beer,” he returned. “Frankly, I think I prefer the smell of the dog.”
The black look he received was completely out of place on the face of his thirteen-year-old daughter and made him wish that he could turn back time—to change what had gone so horribly wrong between them.
But he couldn’t and because of that he could feel her slipping further and further away from him with each sullen glare, each angry exchange. Lately, she seemed to hate him.
They drove home in silence, the endless swish of the wipers the only sound between them. Colin risked a glance at his daughter as she leaned against the window frame, her cheek resting against the cool glass. Her profile, so much like her mother’s, made him ache. Danielle had been classically beautiful, yet her delicate features could not have hinted at the vulnerability hiding in her fragile mind. Years ago, geneticists had warned him that Danielle may have handed down her condition to their only daughter. Colin swallowed against the lump that had risen in his throat. All he could do was hope that Danni had dodged that bullet.
Putting the SUV into Park, he turned to tell Danni to go straight to bed, but she hadn’t waited for instruction. She was already out of the truck and stomping her way through the snow to the front door. By the time Colin made it to the house she was already ensconced in her bedroom with the door closed firmly behind her.
“Well, girl,” he said to the dog, which to his best guess looked to be some kind of yellow lab cross, her face nearly white with age. “It’s just you and me. How about something to eat?”
The dog looked up at him with big brown eyes that were sweet and trusting and he found himself hoping that Erin McNulty didn’t flake on the poor thing. He didn’t know her from Adam but she made it pretty clear that coming home to Granite Hills was as appealing as having a nail pounded into her foot. He went to the fridge and pulled out some ground beef he’d planned to make into burgers tomorrow and crumbled some into a bowl for the dog. He’d hate to have to put her into the shelter. By the way she moved, stiff and slow, it looked as if she had some level of hip dysplasia. If the McNulty woman pulled a no-show and he had to check her into the shelter, the odds were slim that she’d find a home. He wasn’t a bleeding heart, by any means, but he didn’t like the thought of putting the old girl down.
“It ain’t steak but it’s better than nothing,” he murmured, giving the dog a gentle pat on the head as she bent down to eat what was offered. A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. At least someone would go to bed happy. His gaze strayed to his daughter’s closed door, knowing that he was, no doubt, playing center stage as the villain in his little girl’s dreams, and his brief moment of satisfaction evaporated. After placing a bowl of water on the kitchen floor, he retired to the small room he’d converted to an office, wishing he could sleep but knowing that he couldn’t. Despite the late hour, he sighed as he picked up the phone and made a quick call to his sister so that she wouldn’t worry. With Sara’s husband in Iraq and a six-month-old to care for, she certainly didn’t need the grief Danni was dishing out on a daily basis to everyone she felt had betrayed her.
A box of chamomile tea sat unopened on his desk, part of a care package his mother had sent. He wasn’t much interested in it, but his mother swore by chamomile when things looked rough. She said it had a soothing touch. He eyed the box without much hope. He knew what he needed wasn’t in that box but at this point he was starting to feel a little desperate.
God, he missed his parents. They’d bought a condo in Florida last year in search of warmer climates. With her arthritis getting worse each year, Ma said she couldn’t take the winters here anymore. They were coming back for the summer, but it just wasn’t the same without them. Although his sisters lived close by, they were busy with their own lives and he hated to bother them with the problems he was having with Danni. Turning to face the large bay window, he watched as Mother Nature did her level best to ensure that Granite Hills was buried under a soft layer of snow come morning. Colin thought of the McNulty woman and wondered if her flight would be delayed due to the weather.
He closed his eyes to relieve the burning behind them and briefly thought about giving that damn tea a shot. He needed sleep but he knew that if he went to bed he’d just end up tossing and turning, punching his pillow in frustration or staring at the ceiling. He was only thirty-six but he felt one hundred. The last few weeks with Danni had been hell.
And he blamed himself. He should’ve told Danni the truth a long time ago but he’d chickened out. Now, the secret was out and his daughter hated him for it.
A seemingly innocuous slip of paper, he mused bitterly, had driven a wedge between him and his only child.
How many times since that afternoon had he wished he’d burned it the moment it’d been put in his hands? A dozen, a hundred, a million? Countless. But he hadn’t. Like an idiot he’d put it in his file cabinet and forgotten about it.
Until he came home one day three weeks ago to find Danni standing in his office, holding it in