heat down on the pasta, he crossed to the bar that jutted out from the counter. “Sit a minute, honey.”
They took stools opposite each other. “Gil’s daughter left home when she was sixteen.”
“No way. Dad, that’s my age.”
“I know. What’s more, she was pregnant.”
“With Lily? Then, why didn’t Grandpa know about her?”
He explained about Alice and Gil’s decision. “Actually, Cameron never went to the home. She ran away.”
“Grandpa Gil did that?”
“It was more his wife’s decision. You didn’t know Alice.”
“Did you?”
“Only after Cameron left. She was a stern woman—a strong believer in propriety and paying for your sins.”
“She sent her own kid away to punish her?” Jenna said the words as if she couldn’t quite grasp the concept. As her father, Simon was glad Jenna found the behavior incomprehensible.
“I’ve always thought so. And to avoid scandal. Her parents, the Caldwells, were well-known in Fairview. You know the term pillars of the community?”
Jenna nodded.
“That’s what her family was.”
“Yours, too, Dad. Everybody in town still talks about how great your mom and dad were.”
Simon smiled. He’d adored his mother, Catherine, who’d been a teacher, and his guidance counselor father, Patrick, had been his best friend. When they were killed in a boating accident, Simon had been twenty and he’d walked around in a daze for months, mourned them for years. He’d always vowed to be as good a father as his own had been.
“My parents were well loved, but they didn’t have the clout of the Caldwells. They had a lot of money. They owned the Sentinel, as well as some stores in the area. Gil said Alice was trying to avoid embarrassing the family, so they told everybody Cameron was going away to a private school.”
“What happened when she never came back?”
“The real story seeped out. People got wind of the pregnancy. Ironically, it wasn’t a big deal to anyone but Alice, and gossip died quickly. Her parents survived just fine. But Alice went a little crazy.”
“She doesn’t sound like the kind of person Grandpa Gil would marry.”
“She had her good traits. She did a lot of charitable work in her church. But she grew more severe as she got older.”
“Huh.”
“Between trying to run the paper and deal with his wife, Gil was a wreck.”
Jenna’s brows furrowed. “He should have stood up for his daughter, Dad. It sucks that he didn’t.”
“I think it’s best not to judge people, Jen.” Especially not their marriages. “We know the broad strokes, but not all of what happened.”
His daughter studied him.
Simon took her hand. “You know, don’t you, that you could never do anything that would make me send you away?”
Her eyes twinkled. “Even if I dated that motorcycle guy who just moved here from the city?”
“What motorcycle…” He stopped. “You’re teasing.”
“Yep. You’re an easy mark, Dad. You need a life.”
They both stood, and from behind he got her in a headlock. Kissed her hair. “You, little girl, can be a brat.”
“I love you, Daddy. Now come on, let’s eat.”
The meal was satisfying, and Simon enjoyed his daughter’s company. Even if she didn’t know all his foibles, what his life had really been like before Marian died. He wondered briefly if she’d ever be old enough to handle those details?
LILY’S GRANDFATHER looked over at her when she came to the doorway of the kitchen. He was stirring something at the stove and it smelled heavenly. “Did you rest?” he asked.
“Yes, I fell asleep right away, but I’ve been up for a bit. I went through a few of the boxes you left on the dresser.” She couldn’t resist a glance into her mother’s past.
“Ah.” He adjusted the heat on the burner. “Ready for some supper?”
He seemed more uncomfortable than he’d been before she went upstairs. Nervous. Maybe he had had too much time to think about the history between them.
Dropping down into a kitchen chair, she watched him. “Do you mind talking about those boxes for a minute?”
“No. Of course not.” He leaned against the counter.
“I found a christening gown in the one marked baby things.” It had smelled musty, but it was beautifully preserved.
“Your great-grandmother made it. You can have it for one of your twins, if you want.”
“Maybe. Whose handwriting was in the baby book?”
“My wife, Alice’s. Your grandmother.”
Well, at least there had been some good times. Loving comments had been recorded about Cameron’s early development. As if he read her thoughts, Gil said aloud, “Those were happy years for us all.”
There was a second carton, marked Cameron’s School Days. It included pictures, drawings, some done with finger paint. A few notes from teachers. Report cards. Lily’s mother had been smart and well liked by her fifth grade class. Somebody had saved all that, too.
Lily held up a diary. “This was in the last box from my mother’s high school years. Along with a faded corsage, pictures with a few girls, things like that.”
Gil pushed off from the counter and got plates out of the cupboard. “Alice read it, looking for a clue to where Cami might have gone when she never showed up at the Sisters of Mercy home.”
“There’s not much in here.”
He retrieved silverware and set everything on the table. She sniffed when he set a bowl on the table. “Spaghetti?”
“Mmm. Jenna made it yesterday for me.” Gil sat at the table. “What were you looking for in the diary, Lily?”
“Information about my father.”
“I’m afraid we never knew who he was. Cami refused to tell us. That pregnancy capped off several bad years. Did you ever ask your mother about him?”
“Yes, but she didn’t tell me much.”
He was a boy I met in a bar outside of town, where I used a fake ID. He wasn’t interested in either you or me after I got pregnant and he left the area. I never heard from him again.
I’m sorry, Lily, but you should know the truth. Men— they’re not reliable. I hope you have better luck than I had, but there it is.
“I’m sorry,” Gil said. “I wish I could tell you more.”
Maybe that was for the best. Discussion of a father who didn’t want her made Lily realize she was depending on a man who’d left his own child fatherless.
Placing the diary on the oak table, Lily shook her head. “Guess we’ll never know who he was.”
“Does it matter now?”
She stared at him for a long time. “Fathers always matter.”
It was too bad that Gil Gardner hadn’t learned that sooner.
A SMALL READING LAMP illuminated the darkness as Simon sat at the desk in his den refiguring his finances. He’d awakened at 4:00 a.m. after a vivid nightmare. He’d dreamed