Pipe Dreams(51)

"Yeah," she said, her breath shuddery. "But . . ." She reached under her  pillow and pulled it out. She flipped the pages-there were four or  five, with Shelly's handwriting on both sides. Elsa found the one she  was looking for and thrust it at him.

This isn't easy for me to tell you, but I want you to know the truth  about why your father and I broke up. I cheated, honey. I went behind  your father's back to have a relationship with Tad. I can't tell you how  much I regret the way I handled it. Deception is never the right way to  fix a broken relationship. Maybe my relationship with Daddy wasn't  fixable, but now I'll never know.

He cursed under his breath.

I'm telling you this because you might hear things that aren't true. Or  you might wonder why Daddy moved out, and he might not be willing to  tell you. And-this is the most important thing I have to say-if your  father finds someone who treats him better than I did, I hope you can  make room in your heart to understand that he deserves that.

Shit.

Elsa leaned into him, crying silently. He passed a hand over his eyes  and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, honey. I'm sure that was hard to  read." On the one hand, he understood why Shelly had felt the need to be  honest with her daughter. But maybe it could have waited five years  instead of one.

"It's okay," Elsa sobbed.                       
       
           



       

Right. "Would now be a bad time to mention that Lauren is coming over for dinner?"

Elsa snorted and laughed and cried all at the same time.

Mike grabbed a tissue out of the box on her night table and dabbed at  her face. "Your mom was a good person, okay? Only a good person can own  up to her worst mistakes like that. It was brave of her."

"I kn-know," Elsa stuttered. "What did yours say?"

"What?" He grabbed a second tissue because the first one was already trashed.

But when he held it up to her face, Elsa snatched it and mopped up herself. "What did your letter say?"

"I didn't read it yet."

"Really? Aren't you curious? Mine was, like, burning a hole in my desk drawer."

He sighed. "I'll read it if you want me to." Maybe then this whole letter-reading business would just go away.

"Do it."

Mike got up off his bed and climbed the flight to the master suite. He  glanced around his bedroom and noted that the cleaning woman had been  by. Good. He wasn't inviting Lauren to spend the night in a bachelor's  dive. It took him a minute to locate the FedEx envelope and slide the  letter out.

By the time he slid his thumb under the flap and tore it open, Elsa was  waiting in the doorway, her eyes on him. The note was just two  paragraphs long.

Mike-

Your letter is short because I'm not going to bother nagging you to buy  organic or to learn to cook something more than pancakes and steak.



He burst out laughing.

"What?" Elsa yelped, scampering over.

He held up a hand to keep her at bay, though, until he'd read the whole thing.

. . . You and I never did things the same way, but I already know you're a great dad.

I'm sorry if I upset our girl with my letter, but I had to say it now.  Because honey-if she waited for you, go get her back. Life is too damn  short. The sacrifice you made for me was extreme, and I want you to know  I appreciate it. Now go and be happy while there's still time.

-S

The room went blurry.

"Oh, Daddy! What is it?"

Wordlessly, he passed her the note. When Elsa read the first line, she  clapped a hand over her mouth. But then she bit her lip, and the tears  started up again. "Oh, man."

Those were his thoughts exactly.

"She was a good person," Elsa said, as if to reassure them both.

"That was never in doubt," he said. "Marriage is hard. Things were complicated with us. It wasn't all your mom's fault, either."

His daughter put her head on his chest and hugged him. "I'm never getting married."

"Uh-huh. I'll remind you of this conversation someday."

"Is Lauren really coming over?"

"She is, sweetie. I invited her."

"Okay. Then I have to go wash my face and change."

"Nah. Why?"

"She always looks so freaking perfect. She has the best clothes."

He chuckled. "Lauren likes to shop, kid. You play your cards right, she'll take you with her sometime."

Elsa squinted up at him. "Don't try to butter me up, okay? I hate it. I can see you coming from a mile away."

Yikes. Just like the boys in Dallas. "You should play hockey. Center, or maybe right wing."

His daughter gave him a half-irritated look and left the room to go and rummage through her closet.

Mike put Shelly's note back in its envelope. He tucked it into the top  drawer of his dresser, then went to see if Hans was home from the  grocery store yet.





TWENTY-NINE



An hour later Lauren stood in Mike's gleaming kitchen slicing the  strawberries she'd picked up on the way here. She'd also brought pound  cake and cream to whip.

Until a moment ago, Mike, Elsa, Hans, and Justin had been standing here  with her, drinking the first beer of the evening and catching up on  news. Hans had told them about his audition for the Miami orchestra  tomorrow. "That is life in the arts. You are always scrambling to make a  good impression."

"You're going to win this one," Elsa had said with stars in her eyes. "I just know it."

The smile he gave her was so full of love that it broke Lauren's heart.  This child had been so unlucky to lose her mother at such a tender age.  Thank god there were people in her life to help her through it.

And who knew that pregnancy would make her so emotional? This was the  third time today that an act of kindness had made her feel all gooey  inside.

The men were outdoors now in Mike's little backyard, and the steaks were  on the grill. Elsa came back through the kitchen, and Lauren stopped  her. "Hey, I have something for you in my bag. But don't get excited,  it's just three kinds of pads. I thought you could try the different  styles and see what worked best."                       
       
           



       

"Oh! Thank you. Really." The girl's eyes darted toward the door, and  Lauren could hear the gears turning in her head. She didn't want to have  this discussion in front of Hans and company.

"My bag is in the living room," Lauren said, tipping her chin in that  direction. "They're right inside the main compartment-grab them now  while the coast is clear." Her own hands were sticky with strawberry  juice.

Elsa darted away, and Lauren finished up the berries. She sprinkled sugar over them, and a squirt of lemon.

"Steaks are ready!" Mike said, coming through the back door, followed by Hans and Justin. He gave her a blinding smile.

"Okay. I'm done here." Lauren set the bowl of berries to macerate and  rinsed her sticky fingers. She could whip the cream after dinner. She  carried her glass of water to the table, which was set for six. Lauren  would bet any sum of money that Hans had set it, not Mike. The  silverware shone in perfect lines in a way that shouted OCD! Which Mike  was not.

"Elsa!" Mike called toward the stairs. "Dinner!" He put a steak on  Lauren's plate, and then Justin passed her the pasta salad, and a bowl  of broccoli.

For a moment, the four adults waited.

Mike got up and walked over to the stairway. "Els! Did you hear me? Dinner is ready!"

She returned something that Lauren couldn't make out.

"Let's start," Mike said, taking his seat. "We can't let the food get cold just because somebody is on her own clock."

After the dishes had been passed, Lauren cut into her steak and took a  bite. It was excellent. She wondered when she'd start to feel nauseated  by the pregnancy. Apart from a little soreness in her breasts-and a  positive pregnancy test-there weren't any symptoms. Yet. She had her  first appointment with the obstetrician a week from today, where she  could ask all her questions.

It took five or ten minutes until Elsa appeared. She stalked over to the table and sat down.

"Good of you to join us," Mike said, passing her a steak.

Elsa gave him dagger eyes, and Lauren marveled. The kid had been  cheerful enough a half hour ago. Hell, teenagers were moody. Even Hans  couldn't draw her out. When he asked her a couple of gentle questions  about her day at school, she gave him monosyllabic answers.

"What do you think of this wine?" Justin asked, sipping from his glass.  "I don't usually go in for Malbec, but the wine guy raved."

"It's spicy," Mike said. "I like it."

"And I like everything," Hans admitted. "He always goes on about the nose or the terroir, and I just nod and smile."

"That's okay, honey," Justin said, laying a hand on his. "I like a cheap date."