She gripped the steering wheel and turned into her driveway and her earlier worry of having to face her father resurfaced—her dad was waiting for her. Pulling up to the barn, she put it in park, braced herself for the onslaught, and got out.
“Hi, Pop. What are you doing out here?”
“Waiting for you.”
“I thought you weren’t mad.”
“I’m not, but I wanted to talk to you.”
The fact that she’d disappointed him had her mouth drying up and her tongue tying into a knot waiting to hear what else he wanted to tell her.
“Just one moment’s distraction while driving had that driver running the red light…causing the head-on that took your mom from us.”
Cait’s throat tightened. She would never forget that awful time.
“I cannot lose any of my girls that way too, Cait…it would kill me.”
“But, Pop, it wasn’t that serious.”
“It could be next time. Don’t let there be a next time, all right?”
Cait sighed and walked into her father’s open arms. “I promise.”
He folded his arms around her and hugged her to him. “That’s my girl.” He pulled back and kissed her forehead. “I’m going out. Don’t wait up.”
From the way he hurried over to his truck, she knew he was going to Mary Murphy’s. He and the widow had been keeping company since Edie and Bill’s wedding three years ago. She wondered, not for the first time, if she and her sisters should interfere and push him to admit his feelings for Mary. They all liked her, but their dad was moving slower than molasses in January.
As his taillights disappeared, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was afraid to commit, or if it was because of Cait and her sisters’ initial reaction—or maybe it was something much deeper. No matter if he kept it quiet for a while longer or not, she was glad he had someone in his life. Thinking of her mom, she believed in her heart that everyone deserved to be happy…for however long they were alive to enjoy it.
The soft glow of the light by the back door and the one on the stovetop was a welcoming sight, proof that he’d thought of her and didn’t want her fumbling around in the dark. Since Grace was still out, she left the stove light on and trudged upstairs.
Her dad’s words haunted her until she began to wonder how different she would be if her mom had survived the accident. She had always felt she had missed out when she watched her friends receive hugs and kisses from their moms.
“It isn’t Meg’s fault that she wasn’t mom,” she grumbled, flicking on her bedroom light. “Heaven knows she did the best she could with Gracie and me…but it just wasn’t the same as a hug from mom.”
Feeling abysmally sorry for herself, she changed out of her work clothes, grabbed her pj’s, and headed for the shower. Standing beneath the hot spray, she didn’t try to stop the tears that threatened whenever she started to think of life without her mom. Alone with no one to hear, she wept for the little girl who had missed out on those hugs, kisses, and baking lessons—and then for the adolescent who missed out on those talks about boys in school and butterflies in her stomach.
Finally, emotionally drained, she shut off the water and got out. Weary to the bone, she lay down but couldn’t find her sleep—something her grandmother Mulcahy used to say when they were small. She needed to call Meg, but knew her sister was probably asleep by now. Cait’s nephews and her sister’s pregnancy were taking a lot out of Meg. She couldn’t talk to Grace because she was out on a date, and she was too tired to call Peggy, who would insist on sharing the latest gossip with her.
There wasn’t anyone else she could talk to, was there?
A tall broad-shouldered man with auburn hair came to mind. “Could I call Jack?” Unsure, she hesitated with her hand on her phone. When it buzzed beneath her hand, she jolted. “Hello?”
“Hi, Cait, it’s Jack.”
Having a connection to someone when she’d been floundering amidst remembered grief had relief flowing through her. “Hey, everything OK?”
“I was just going to ask you that.” The deep voice on the other end of the line soothed her. “I just wanted to check up on you. Are you sure you’re not feeling any aftereffects from hitting your head?”
His concern wrapped around her like a hug. “Only a slight headache. It’s been a long day with some really great highs…and some pretty crappy lows.”
“I know what you mean. Today has been interesting.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
It was as easy as that. She asked and Jack, hesitatingly at first, unloaded some of his burden while she listened. They talked for nearly an hour about his day, Jamie, and then her day. At last her body relaxed, the tension from the day’s events slowly sliding away.