Stonehill Series Collection Page 2

  He was angry, too, damn it.

  He clenched his jaw. “I was robbed of my son as much as he was of a father. I would have stood by you, Kara.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “The only standing by me you ever did, Harrison, was to sneak out while I was sleeping.”

  “I’m not proud of that, but if I’d known about our son, I would have been there.”

  She looked out the window at the deserted street. “Your mother was so sweet when I went to her. So understanding. She let me stay at your house that night. The next morning she fixed me breakfast. She said she’d talked to you and you wanted to finish school, which was the most logical thing because you couldn’t support a family without a job. She said she’d help me out until you could. I was so relieved. I remember wishing I knew her well enough to hug her because I’d been so scared she’d turn me away, too. And then she put me on a bus, and I never heard from her again. Other than receiving a check once a month.”

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  She blinked, but the sheen of unshed tears in her eyes caught the light as she focused on him again. “I sent you letters every week. Stupid, stupid letters, thinking you were reading them. That you cared about us. But you never responded. Finally, I stopped writing. It took five years,” she said with a bitter laugh, “but I finally caught on that you weren’t coming for us. Even so, I felt obligated to let you know where we were. Every time we moved, I’d send a note with nothing but an address inside. I kept you…your mother up to date on our whereabouts until about seven years ago.”

  “What happened seven years ago?”

  She hesitated, as if she didn’t want to share the next bit of information. “Phil became a father himself. I figured at that point, if you hadn’t opted to be a part of our life, I wasn’t going to invite you to be a part of hers.”

  Harry’s heart leaped in his chest, and he sat a bit taller. “I’m a grandpa?”

  Kara actually smiled, and it was as dazzling as he remembered. “Her name is Jessica. Scroll through the photos. There are plenty on there. She, um…”

  Harry paused on a picture, and his smile dropped a bit. The girl had Phil’s dark hair and dark brown eyes. Her eyes, however, were set wide apart and slanted, and her face was flat and broad.

  “She has Down syndrome,” Kara said.

  Harry stared at the photo. The girl wore a long sundress and yellow rain boots. A pink bandanna kept her braids away from her face and she held up dirty hands. He looked at the next photo and the one after that. Jessica was smiling in all of them. Not just smiling. Beaming.

  “Is she always this happy?”

  “No.” Kara laughed. “She’s as moody as any other seven-year-old girl. But I don’t take pictures of sulking.”

  Harry chuckled. “She’s beautiful.” He looked up and saw doubt playing on Kara’s face. “She’s beautiful,” he said more firmly.

  “Yes, she is,” she whispered. “Do you, um… Do you remember what song was playing when we were together?”

  He creased his brow as he thought back. It may have been a lifetime ago, but he still had a clear memory of that night. He’d wanted to be alone with her, to tell her what he’d been wanting to say for two years—that he thought she was amazing. Wonderful. That he wished he’d been braver and had asked her out. That he was sorry he’d blown their high school years being a chicken shit.

  While everyone else was getting drunk, he’d taken her hand and led her upstairs so they could talk. It turned out the only empty room they could find was Shannon Blake’s bedroom. He hadn’t planned to have sex with Kara that night, but before he could work up the nerve to say anything, her curious gray eyes lured him in. He kissed her—his first real kiss. And then somehow they were on the bed, and he was pulling at her clothes. In true virgin nerd fashion, he was inside her and both of their first sexual experiences ended before they even knew what they were doing. Their time together couldn’t have lasted more than five minutes, but being with Kara had changed everything for him. From that moment forward, every woman in his life was judged on his own personal Kara scale. And none of them had ever measured up to the memory he’d cherished, and probably embellished, over the years.

  He could remember that. All of that. But he couldn’t recall any music playing.

  “‘One More Night,’” she said. “Phil Collins.”

  Harry stared at her for a moment before he finally realized why she was telling him this. He had asked why she’d named his son Phil. “You named our son after the artist singing the song he was conceived to?”

  She shrugged. “I had asked for permission to name him after you, but you didn’t answer my letter. I didn’t want to name him after my father. He’d disowned me. I was at a loss. Phil was all I had.”

  “What’s his middle name?”

  Kara gawked, as if he’d just asked the dumbest question she’d ever heard. “Collins.”

  He let her admission process for a moment before he laughed outright. She threw a wadded-up napkin at him.

  “I’m sorry, but…Phil Collins Canton?”

  “Martinson,” she corrected. “He has my name.”

  His smile faded at the sting in his heart. His only son didn’t have his name? But why would he? Harry hadn’t been there. He hadn’t married her. He hadn’t raised his son. “Right. Of course he has your name.”

  Tension rolled between them for a moment before she grinned. “If you’d been able to figure out how to get me out of my clothes faster, I would have had to name him Starship.”

  Harry laughed, but it wasn’t as heartfelt. “That’s better than calling him Mr. Mister, I suppose.”

  “Oh, I considered it.”

  He chuckled as he scanned the diner, not really seeing the booths and bored waitresses. He couldn’t fully grasp how the night had turned out like this. The one girl he’d never been able to get out of his head was sitting across from him, and she was the mother of his child.

  “You said you’ve been looking for me for twenty-seven years.” He scoffed. “You couldn’t have looked very hard, Kara. I moved home after I graduated college. I never left. I’m on social media. I own a business. I’m not exactly living under a rock. And my mother still lives in the same house. If you sent me letters back then, you knew how to find me.”

  “Yeah. ‘Looking’ might have been a stretch. Like I said, I stopped writing to you on Phil’s fifth birthday. I always kept you—or so I thought—up-to-date on where we were living. I figured if you were so inclined, you’d reach out to us.”

  Harry frowned. “I know it doesn’t mean anything now, but I would have been there. I would have given up everything to be there.”

  “I guess your mother knew that, huh?”

  He nodded. “I guess.”

  “I’ve never been back.” She focused on her coffee mug, but before she looked away he glimpsed the hurt she must have felt at being shunned by her family. “Not for class reunions or birthdays or Christmas. I don’t even know if my parents are still alive. I’ve thought about contacting them, but…what would I say? What could they say? Sorry doesn’t cover it. And I don’t know if I could forgive them. Every time I think about how they threw me out, I just get so angry. I could never be so cold to Phil.”

  Guilt tugged at him. She shouldn’t have had to face that alone.

  “The last time I saw my father, he was shutting the door behind him after shoving me out. He told me I was never welcome in his home again.” She worked her lip between her teeth as she blinked rapidly. The sheen of tears returned. “I sat on the swing for what seemed like hours, thinking they’d calm down and let me back in, but they didn’t. I didn’t know where else to go. I didn’t exactly have friends back then. So I went to the closest phone booth and looked up your address. Thankfully you were named after your father. It made narrowing down which Canton household to go to much easier.”

  Harry lowered his face as her voice quivered. He figured these were memories she didn’t dredge up too of
ten. “This place that my mother sent you. What was it like?”

  “It was nice, actually. I don’t think she could have found a better place. There were women there who had been through similar situations. When Phil was born, they taught me how to change diapers and nurse him and all those things that…that my mother should have shown me. They taught me how to garden and sew and barter for the things I couldn’t make. We left there when Phil was five and landed in another place like that. It kind of started a trend. I moved a lot, learning and growing. Phil resents not having a regular childhood, but we saw so much and did so much. I think he’ll appreciate it someday.”

  “I bet you were—are—a great mother.”

  She scoffed, and Harry thought the pain in her eyes deepened. “He’s like you, Harry. He’s just like you. He needed a stability that I couldn’t provide for him. I couldn’t stand to be in one place for too long. I still can’t. Whenever roots start to grow, I get twitchy. I need to keep moving. I’ve only stayed in Seattle this long because of Jess.”

  “Running,” he offered.

  She looked offended, but he suspected he was more right than wrong. She was still hurting from her parents’ rejection. She was still angry over raising a son on her own. She was still feeling alone, even if she had Phil and Jessica.

  “It’s called running,” he said. “And I hope you’ll stop now, Kara.”

  She held his gaze. “But I so enjoy it, Harry,” she responded with the sarcastic bite she’d had since he’d met her.

  He was tempted to call her on it, but they had more pressing matters to discuss. “I’d like to meet them. My son and my granddaughter.”

  She frowned and drew a slow breath. “Well, I’m sure they’d like to meet you, too.”

  2

  Kara smacked at Phil’s hand as he tugged his tie. “Stop it,” she snapped. “You’re making me crazy.” She tugged the knot loose only to retighten it at the base of his neck. “You don’t even need this, you know. He’s your dad, for crying out loud.”

  “I want this night to be perfect.”

  “It is going to be perfect. Now stop fidgeting.”

  He skimmed his gaze over her outfit—a green and gold tunic over matching pants. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

  “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  “It’s very…”

  “What?”

  “Buddhist. Are you Buddhist now?”

  Kara stopped straightening his jacket and cocked a brow at him.

  “For the better part of my life, I thought you were Janis Joplin reincarnate. Lately you look more like…Maya Devi.”

  “Mrs. Prasad brought these for me from India. They were made by—”

  “Single mothers trying to survive the caste system. I know.” He grinned at her frown. “Mom, I appreciate you being here tonight, but can you please tone down the eccentricities? Just for one night?”

  “I have no need to impress your father, Phil. I already know him. Intimately.”

  He furrowed his brows. “I don’t want to hear about anything you know intimately. I just want things to go smoothly tonight.”

  “And my clothes are going to cause waves? I’m not naked.”

  “Mom. Please.”

  “Fine.” She sighed. “I’ll put on something more Eleanor Roosevelt.”

  He widened his eyes. “Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, Mother, do not talk politics, feminism, sex, religion, Indian caste, or any other topic that could possibly be construed as controversial.”

  “Don’t call me Mother. I hate that. It sounds so chastising. And do you really think I don’t have enough common sense to get through one evening with your sperm donor? Just because I shirk the conventional doesn’t mean I don’t know how to act like one of them.”

  He moaned. “I don’t know why I thought having you around would make tonight easier.”

  She laughed as he walked away, readjusting his suit coat. She’d never understand how she ended up with a conformist for a son. She’d never colored within the lines, but Phil was born that way. While she’d lived life wandering and changing from day to day, he’d clung to normalcy like it could save him.

  And maybe it had.

  If he hadn’t gone to college like society told him he should, he wouldn’t have married and had Jess. Even if the marriage had failed miserably, he was left with the most amazing daughter who gave him a reason to be stable, which was what he’d longed for all his life. He definitely was Harrison Canton’s son. In this particular battle of nature versus nurture, nature had won tenfold.

  Less than twenty minutes later, dressed in black slacks and a white blouse with her long hair swept into a loose bun, Kara bowed before Phil. “Better?”

  “You look perfect. Thank you.”

  Kara crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at Jess.

  She giggled. “You look so normal, Grandma.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.” Winking, she poked the girl’s stomach. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”

  “She’s headed that way now,” Phil said.

  Jess stuck her lip out in a pout. “I want to stay up.”

  “Not tonight, Punky.” Phil swooped his daughter up and kissed her head as he hugged her tight. “It’s a school night. You need to get to bed.”

  Jess’s face melted a bit. “But, Daddy…”

  “Hey, it’s already past bedtime. Now, go brush your teeth and wash up. I’ll be right up to tuck you in.”

  The girl wriggled down and hugged Kara around the waist. “Good night, Grandma.”

  Kara ran her hand over Jess’s head. “Good night, love. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “You said you’re going to teach me to paint horses, remember?”

  “I remember.”

  Jess grinned and darted off.

  Once her footfalls were far enough away that she couldn’t hear, Kara asked, “Why aren’t you letting her meet him?”

  “I want to meet him first.” He stopped messing with his cuffs and met her gaze. “No, it’s not because I’m hiding her.”

  “I didn’t say you were.”

  “You were thinking it.”

  She smirked. “Since when can you read minds?”

  “You aren’t exactly difficult to understand, Mother.”

  She opened her mouth to challenge him, but he continued.

  “There’s no point in my hiding her, even if I wanted to—which I don’t. You already told Harry Jess has Down syndrome.” Leaning over, Phil kissed her cheek. “I know you feel like you have to protect her from the world, but you don’t have to save her from me. I’m her dad, remember?”

  Kara exhaled as a sense of shame caused her cheeks to heat. She was fiercely overprotective of her grandbaby. She couldn’t help herself. People had a tendency to feel uncomfortable around Jess. Other people’s bad reactions to a perfectly normal little girl pissed Kara off.

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “I just don’t want her to get excited at the thought of having a grandfather, only to have him disappear for another twenty-seven years. That wouldn’t be fair to her. She wouldn’t understand.”

  “You’re right.” She nodded. “Of course you’re right. But I don’t think he’ll disappear again. He honestly didn’t know about you.”

  Phil returned his focus to tugging his sleeves down. “I can’t believe his mother sent you away like that.”

  She smiled slightly. Phil rarely came to her defense. “Well. At least she found a place for us and sent money every month. Mine just washed her hands of us. We were better off anyway.”

  “Easy for you to say,” he muttered. “You enjoyed living in a commune.”

  “Yes, I know.” Her sentimental feeling deflated as his lifelong resentment spilled from his mouth. “Your childhood was filled with so much disappointment.”

  He stopped fussing over his jacket and looked at her. “All I wanted was to go to a normal school and have a normal life like no
rmal kids.”

  The doorbell rang, and Kara lifted her brows. “Oh, shoot.” Her voice oozed with sarcasm. “I was so enjoying this conversation.” Her smirk softened when Phil’s shoulders sank and his dark eyes, so much like his father’s, widened.

  “He’s here,” he managed to say.

  Kara waited, but Phil didn’t move. She couldn’t blame him. Her nerves were wound so tight she felt a little queasy herself. Undoubtedly, Phil was a thousand times more anxious. She squeezed his arm, giving him a supportive smile, and stepped around him. Taking several breaths as she crossed the small living room, she opened the front door. Her heart tripped when she found Harry looking nearly as fearful as his son had moments before. Kara gave him that same weak smile she’d given Phil—a silent offering of support in a moment that was far too stressful for all of them. Stepping aside, she gestured for Harry to enter. He didn’t move from the doorstep.

  “I didn’t know you’d be here. Not that it’s a problem,” he quickly amended.

  “Phil’s a little bit nervous.”

  Harry grinned. “Yeah. Me, too.” He looked down at the teddy bear in his hand. “I didn’t know what…but I thought…” He thrust the stuffed animal at Kara. “For Jessica.”

  She took the gift. “She’s already in bed, but I’m sure she’ll love it. Would you like to come in?”

  He blinked several times, as if surprised that he was still standing outside. He crossed the threshold and looked around the small home. Kara couldn’t afford much on her artist’s wage, but it was enough. She taught classes and some one-on-one lessons, but her income was iffy most times. She was much better at bartering for her needs than earning money. Unfortunately, the utility companies didn’t trade services.

  Phil had been laid off four months before and moved in with Kara to save money, making the tiny home seem even smaller. She didn’t mind, though. She loved having Jess there day and night. It had taken some time getting used to having Phil under her roof again, however. He didn’t appreciate her carefree life any more now than he had as a teenager.