Taming McGruff(66)

“All done.” He nodded to the living room.

When Priscilla stepped into the room, memories flooded back to her. The hard work of putting it all together took a back seat to the look on his face when he’d first seen it. Automatically, her gaze went to his. He held it. Her breath caught in her lungs. He could still make her feel things, want things.

A few minutes later, Marcus and Francie arrived, with goodies from his pub and grill. He made himself at home and set it out beside the coffee and tea Griffin had already placed on the coffee table. Marcus and Dolly took over, handing out food and drinks.

Griffin waved off any. He remained standing and waited for everyone to settle in. Priscilla clutched her mug of steaming tea. In the back of her mind, she recalled her yellow smiley mug stashed in the cupboard. A slice of pain stabbed her at the thought of never sitting across from him and using it again.

“Thank you all for coming tonight.” He glanced at each one of them. “First, I owe you all an apology for what I did. Somehow that got lost in the meeting I had with the King daughters the other morning. I am sorry, truly sorry, for any pain I caused you.” His regret was palpable. His gaze landed on Priscilla. “Especially you, Pixie.”

The use of her nickname tugged at her heart.

“I had tunnel vision when it came to Agnes King, and I forgot, for a very long time, that other people would unknowingly suffer at my hands.” He went to a nearby table and picked up something. “I wanted vindication for my father. I realized I’d only cause more misery to innocent people. I couldn’t do what had been done to me.”

His sincerity gripped Priscilla. Transfixed, she gulped as his humble apology sank in. It had cost him dearly, she realized, for him to give up his quest. How could he exonerate his father now? Why did she still care after all he’d done to her and her family?

“Charlie,” he continued, “I hope you believe me when I say, I had no intention of going into your desk yesterday afternoon. I left blueprints and reports from the women’s department remodel—”

“Yes, I got those this morning. They were on top of my desk,” she confirmed.

“I looked for a sticky note. I tried your top drawer.”

“That thing’s been stuck for years. I can’t get it all the way open.”

“I did.”

His words dropped into the room.

“There’s a metal latch on each side in the very back, holding closed secret compartments. I found these there. I haven’t opened them. It’s not for me to do so. This one, the biggest and bulkiest, is addressed to you, Charlie. Francine, this is yours. And Priscilla, you have one, too.”

Putting down her mug, Priscilla’s hands shook when he handed her the envelope.

“It’s Daddy’s handwriting. I’d know it anywhere,” Charlie said, awe coloring her words.

Priscilla turned it over in her hands. Light, yet an outline of something inside poked out the shape of it, she couldn’t imagine what her late stepfather left for only her. “Open yours first,” she told Charlie.

“No, you and Francie first,” Edward chimed in.

Jerking her head up, Priscilla witnessed a silent exchange between Edward and Griffin. A fusion of fear nagged her. She didn’t know what she’d uncover, but she took a deep breath and peeled away the seal. A yellowing slip of paper and a King’s jewelry box lay inside. She pulled out the paper first, unfolded it and found tears clouding her eyes as she saw her late stepfather’s handwriting sprawled across the page.

“He knew he was dying,” she whispered. “He wanted me to know I was his daughter as much as Charlie was. No matter what happened to me in life, by leaving me this, he wanted me to know I was loved. I was a King. At the bottom he wrote, follow your dreams; it will always lead you to your heart.” Gingerly, she put aside his note, wiped her eyes with a napkin, and then pulled out the lavender box with King’s logo of a crown on it. She lifted the lid, gasping at the charm bracelet: a miniature crown—the King logo charm—lay beside a heart, with an emerald stone in the center of it, dangling from the chain. Picking it up, she turned it over and read the inscription. “For my baby girl. It’s beautiful.”

Francie opened hers; the note said almost the same thing. Her jewelry box contained an identical bracelet with the King crown charm; the only difference was a sapphire stone sat in the center of her heart. She read her inscription. “For my blue-eyed girl. That’s what he always called me,” Francie said, laughing and crying at the same time.

“I’m afraid to look,” Charlie admitted, hugging the envelope to her.