The Newcomer (Thunder Point #2)(57)

“Pretty crazy how?” she asked.

He gave a shrug. “She complains constantly. She’s manipulative as all hell. She’s seventy-five and still angry about everything. It might be keeping her alive.”

“That’s right, your parents were older when you were born. Didn’t your dad retire right about the time we knew each other?”

He nodded. “They had two children. My sister is eighteen years older than I am. My dad is a retired postal carrier—he retired at sixty. My sister and her husband built a guest house on their property and my folks live in it.” He smiled. “God bless her.”

The waitress appeared and Eric said, “Two coffees, please.” And then to Gina he said, “Would you like something to eat?”

She shook her head. “I take it you’re not close to them?” she asked. “Your parents?”

“Unsurprising, if you think about all the trouble I gave them. We’ve been closer the last few years, but they have relentless memories. I hope...I’m sorry—her name? Your daughter?”

Your daughter, too, she almost said. “Ashley.”

He smiled. “I hope she’s easier on you than I was on my parents. Ashley.”

“She’s a dream come true.”

“That’s a pretty name. I wasn’t sure. You know?”

“Sure of what?”

He rubbed his hands over his face. They were callused hands; hardworking hands. But clean. Even his nails were clean.

“Well, if you really were pregnant. If you had a baby. Or maybe decided not to take a chance on one, given the father. I thought about contacting you. Then I thought better of it. I didn’t want to stir up any bad memories for you. I thought you’d be better off, you know?”

The waitress put the coffees on the table, but they both ignored them.

Gina shoved her list back in her purse, a little angry. “Better off, how?”

“Look, Gina, I know what I did to you was low. It was so wrong nothing could make it right. I wanted to say I was sorry, but sorry was so lame I couldn’t even choke it out. By the time I could’ve apologized, so much time had passed, I figured I’d be like a bad dream. And you didn’t need that.”

“Is that so?” she asked. “So, checking to see if you actually had a child, you thought that would be a bad idea. You thought—”

“I was in prison, Gina.”

Well. Gunshot to the heart. She felt all the color drain from her face. “Prison?” she asked weakly.

“Armed robbery. Seven years and I served five. I’m not making excuses here, but I was kind of along for the ride. I made a few bad friends and at that time in my life I thought bad was very cool. I think someone dropped me on my head when I was a baby. I’m sorry, Gina. I’m really sorry. You’re just one of many people I disappointed.”

She was stunned silent for a moment. “Right,” she finally said. Hands shaking, she pulled her list out again. “Diabetes?” she asked. “Metabolic issues, like Crohn’s disease?”

He covered her hand. “I’m not a dangerous person,” he said. “I’ve turned my life around. But to a kid, that news wouldn’t be important. I wouldn’t want the reputation that goes with having a con for a dad. I won’t bother you. Or your daughter.”

“You seem to be doing okay for yourself now,” she said.

He gave a nod. “When you’re an ex-con, getting work is almost impossible. My brother-in-law helped me land a job in a run-down body shop. It went into foreclosure and he helped me buy the auctioned property. I was probably too young and inexperienced for it, but it was a lot better than begging for a chance, a break. So, I worked hard, ran it for a few years with ex-cons I knew were okay and we turned it around. What you see is a rebuilt and highly leveraged business, but an honest and dependable one. The last couple of years, even in this economy, have been good years.” He took a breath. “I haven’t been in trouble since. You can check that.”

“I should probably just go....”

“I have some money put aside. No other children,” he said, shaking his head. “If you can use a hand...let me know. You wouldn’t have to tell her where it came from.”

“I don’t need anything,” she said. “I just wanted to know about the medical history.”

“And now you probably know way more than you wanted to know.”

She nodded. “Wow. I knew you were trouble back then, but I never...” Then she blanched. “I mean...”

“I know exactly what you mean, Gina. Listen, I realize I have no right, but can you tell me about her? I promise not to bother her or you.”

Gina thought about this for a long moment. Then she pulled her cell phone out of her purse, clicked on the picture gallery and passed it to him. The first picture was one she’d taken at a Thunder High basketball game. Ashley was smiling, red hair shining, green eyes twinkling, her pom-poms under her chin. She was stunning.

And she saw him almost crumble. He cradled the phone in both hands, a look of wonder came over him. He had to glance away briefly to compose himself. “She’s so beautiful,” he said in a strained whisper.

“There are more. You can scroll through.”

He took his time with the pictures and awe was obvious on his face. She had about a hundred pictures—Ashley fooling around with friends, sleeping, laughing, cheering, studying with Eve, hugging her grandmother, sitting at the counter at the diner. It was a long while before he stopped and looked at her. He laughed uncomfortably. “I better stay out of Thunder Point or the whole town will know who I am.”