The Bad Daughter(52)

“Maybe you should sit down,” she said to Cassidy, in an effort to quiet those thoughts.

“No, I’m okay.” Cassidy smiled shyly at Blake. “You didn’t tell me you were engaged,” she said to Robin.

“Well, we really haven’t talked that much,” Robin said.

“I’m sure there were more important things on her mind,” Blake said.

Robin wondered if he was merely being generous, masking his hurt feelings, or if he really meant what he said. It occurred to her that she didn’t know the man she was engaged to marry very well at all.

“So when are you getting married? Can I be a bridesmaid?” Cassidy asked, one question tumbling on top of the other.

“Most certainly,” Blake said graciously.

“That’s so cool. And I guess you’ll be maid of honor,” she said to Melanie.

Melanie looked over at Robin. Robin glanced toward the floor.

“First things first,” Blake interjected. “And first, we have to set a date.”

“How about as soon as Daddy gets out of the hospital?”

“That’s certainly something to consider,” Robin said, deciding to let the child cling to her optimism, however unrealistic.

Plenty of time for reality later.

Cassidy clapped her hands with excitement. “Did you hear that, Daddy? There’s going to be a wedding. So you have to get better, so you can give the bride away.” She glanced at Robin for confirmation.

Robin nodded. What the hell? What harm could it do?

“Have you met Robin’s fiancé, Blake? Oh—I don’t know your last name.”

“It’s Upton,” Blake said.

“Blake Upton,” Cassidy repeated. “That’s a really cool name.”

“Thank you.” Blake smiled. “I had absolutely nothing to do with it.”

“Are you related to Kate?” Cassidy asked.

“Who?”

“Kate Upton. She’s a famous model.”

“Pretty sure we’re not related.”

“That’s too bad. I’d really like to meet her. I want to be a model one day.”

“I don’t think that Daddy would be too happy about that,” Melanie said.

Robin recalled Melanie’s early dreams of being a model, how their father had dismissed those dreams with a few terse words. “Fat chance of that,” he’d said.

“I think you’d be a great model,” Blake told Cassidy.

“Really? That’s what Kenny says.”

“Kenny Stapleton?” Melanie’s eyes narrowed, her head tilting to one side.

“He was here earlier,” Robin said.

“Really.” The word was no longer a question.

“And Kara Richardson and Skylar Marshall, from my school,” Cassidy said. “They’re juniors. I didn’t think they even knew who I was. It was so cool they came to see me. Don’t you think?”

“So cool,” Robin repeated with a smile. One minute Cassidy seemed mature far beyond her years, and the next she reverted to the child she was. It was hard to keep up without getting dizzy.

“My mother could have been a famous model,” Cassidy told Blake. “She was really beautiful.”

“Yes, she was,” Robin agreed, trying not to imagine that beautiful face torn apart by bullets.

“But she didn’t care about that stuff. She just wanted to be a good wife and mother. That’s what she always said. That Daddy and I were plenty for her. Didn’t she, Daddy?” Cassidy leaned in toward her father. “She loved you so much. You know that, don’t you, Daddy?”

“I’m sure he knows,” Blake said, and Cassidy fell back against his chest, sobbing quietly.

“Maybe we should go,” Melanie said after several minutes had passed. “There’s no point just standing around waiting for something to happen. What is it they say—‘a watched pot never boils’?”

“What does that mean?” Cassidy asked.

“It means that it could be days, weeks…”

Their father groaned.

“Oh, my God,” Cassidy cried. “Is he…?”

“He’s just making noises…”

The groan became louder, more insistent.

“I’ll get the nurse,” Blake said, hurrying out of the room.

“Daddy?” Cassidy said.

“Dad? Can you hear me?” Melanie said, approaching.

Robin hung back, holding her breath.

“Dad?” Melanie said again. “It’s me, Melanie.”

A low wail emanated from deep inside their father’s throat, gurgling toward the surface of his lips. After a few seconds, the gurgle became a name.

“Cassidy.”

Melanie fell back, as if she’d been physically struck.

“Daddy!” Cassidy cried, grabbing his hand. “I’m here, Daddy. I’m right here.”

“Cassidy,” he said again.

Cassidy tried to throw herself over the handrail of the bed, crying out as the rail dug into her side. “Daddy! Daddy!”

“Cassidy,” he repeated, his eyes opening even as his voice grew fainter.

“Daddy! He’s awake! He’s awake!”