Star Promise (9 page)

It had been a long time since he’d talked carpentry, and I couldn’t ever remember him doing it while wearing a tie. It threw me back to the cold winter afternoons we’d spent together in the shed in Pipers Cove. I could sit and watch for hours as he worked on boats. That was Adam at his very best, and seeing his joy while he talked about working on the drawers made me realise that I hadn’t seen him at his best for a long time.

“You miss working on boats, don’t you?”

“I can live without boats,” he replied making his way back over to me. “I can’t live without you.”

I’d spent years being riled by the way he dodged my questions. I used to demand a straight answer. I didn’t do that any more.

“I just want you to be happy,” I mumbled.

“Seeing you find your feet in a job you love makes me happy,” he replied, edging closer. “Having conversations with my kid about sea dogs makes me happy.”

I wondered if that meant that the good outweighed the bad, then realised that he was the only one who could decide. “You thought it would be different, didn’t you?” I asked.

His arm slipped around me. “New York never changes, Charli.”

“No, I meant your job,” I clarified. “It’s not what you thought it would be.”

It was impossible not to feel his angst, even though I wasn’t supposed to. The be-all and end-all had always been a career in law. He’d studied for years to get his degree, then put his career on hold for a life in Australia with us. A great job in a prestigious law firm was supposed to be the reward, but for Adam, getting up every morning and going to the office had become a never-ending punishment.

He just wouldn’t admit to it.

“We’re okay, Charli.” He smoothed his fingers through my hair. “For as long as you want to be here.”

I bunched up the sides of his shirt in my fists, pulled him closer and kissed him hard in reply. I wasn’t going to argue. Ryan had been the one to remind me that Adam was a grown man. When he was ready to call it quits, he would. But for now, he’d take a walk down memory lane and tear up some wood in our living room.

My father was unapologetically hard, but there were two women who always managed to bring out a softer side. One of them was my mother. The other was just as feisty, only much shorter.

They arrived home in the early evening. Bridget was her usual amped-up self. My dad was much more reserved, but that might’ve had something to do with his outfit.

“Nice scarf,” I told him.

“I do believe it’s a feather boa,” said Dad, flicking the string of green feathers. “My granddaughter says it suits me.”

“It looks nice, Papy,” insisted Bridget. “I picked it.”

I glanced at my little girl and noticed she was rocking a few accessories of her own. Most notable was the little red stroller.

“What’s in the stroller, Bridge?” I tried sneaking a peek, but was thwarted at the last second. “I’ll show you,” announced Bridget, forcing me back with a hands-up motion. “It’s a lovely girl.”

That was debatable. The lovely girl she dragged out headfirst was Treasure – and she was still heinous.

“Mamie couldn’t get the red off her,” she explained. “But she said I can have her back if I’m nice to her, so I will be nice.”

It was hard to believe, mainly because she was clutching Treasure by the throat. The doll was already dead meat. Bridget roughly dumped her back in the stroller. “I got something else, Daddy,” she announced. “Papy has it.”

Dad pulled a small black box from his pocket. I flipped the lid and came face to face with the compass we’d nearly bought a few days earlier.

My heart sank. I’d been trying to prove a point to Bridget, and thought I was making headway. Bad behaviour shouldn’t be rewarded, which meant the compass was off limits. I should’ve known that she’d pick her moment and con someone else into buying it for her.

Something in my expression let my father know I was pissed. “Many small lessons equal a large education, Adam,” he told me.

There wasn’t any point trying to make him understand, so I concentrated on the crooked little girl next to him. “I told you no.”

She almost shrugged but thought better of it. “I paid the man all my money. I have no money left.”

I shook my head, too furious to reply. She’d made it sound as if she was doing a good deed by offloading the cash.

Dad jumped in and quickly added to the story. “Bridget learned that impulse purchases aren’t always a good idea.”

I tore my eyes from my daughter to glower at him. “It’s not an impulse purchase,” I said roughly. “She’s been plotting to get hold of it for days.”

Dad pointed at the stroller. “Bridget bought the buggy first,” he explained. “She didn’t have enough money left to buy the compass.”

I groaned out loud. It was going from bad to worse. “So you fronted her more cash?”

“Not exactly.” He almost smiled. “I loaned her the money. Bridget owes me thirty-four dollars.”

I had no idea what the implications of owing him money were. It was Bridget who spelled out the terms of the agreement. She grabbed the handle of the stroller and violently shook it. “I have to work now,” she grumbled.

“Bridget is going to work off her debt,” he told me. “I have some chores for her to do at home.” He looked down at the disgruntled little girl. “You must learn to save first and spend afterwards, my love.”

“Little girls can’t work hard, Papy,” she whined.

Dad dragged the feather boa off his neck and draped it around her. “That’s not my issue, Bridget.” He kissed the top of her head. “A deal is a deal.”

Thanks to a well-timed phone call to Australia, Charli had conveniently missed Bridget’s homecoming. She was ending the call when I walked into the bedroom.

“Is Bridget home?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I replied. “She’s getting Treasure reacquainted with the rest of the girls.”

“Treasure’s back too?” She sounded so revolted that I felt like apologising. “I thought we’d seen the last of that horror.”

I sat beside her on the edge of the bed and handed her the small black box. “Dad took Bridget shopping,” I said listlessly.

Charli flipped open the box and moaned as if I’d just given her diamonds. “It’s lovely.”

“It is a nice piece,” I agreed. I would’ve been much more enthusiastic about it if it hadn’t been so ruthlessly gained.

Charli took the compass out and held it in her hand, running her thumb across the glass front.

“Are you trying to turn it on, Charlotte?” I teased.

She bumped me with her shoulder. “What do you know about compasses, wise guy?”

“Only the basics,” I admitted. “I was a boy scout for a while – until Ryan got us kicked out.”

Her wonderful laugh instantly made me forget the pissed-off edge to my mood. I pushed her back on the bed and flopped my head down beside her.

“What did he do?” she asked, still giggling.

I stared up at the ceiling. “Broke a scout law,” I said gravely.

“Scouts have laws?”

“Sure they do.” I lazily turned my head to wiggle my eyebrows at her. “A scout is trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind –”

Her laugh grew louder, but she still managed to cut me off. “You remember all that?”

“Of course.” I rested my hand on her thigh. “I was a conscientious scout. Obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean and reverent.”

“And Ryan lacked which attribute?”

I reached across and pulled her on top of me. “Three quarters of them,” I murmured.

Charli softly kissed me. “I thought scout law was about being prepared.”

“No, that’s their motto; but for the record, I’m always very prepared.”

“Good.” She straightened up and held the compass out to me. “You’ll be able to show Bridget how to find her way.”

“I’m always trying to help her find her way,” I muttered. “I don’t think I’m succeeding at the moment.”

It was an overly dramatic statement. A few naughty episodes in quick succession didn’t necessarily mean she had the makings of a career criminal, but it weighed on me and Charli knew it.

She smoothed my frown with her fingertips. “Give the girl some magic and pull her back into line,” she suggested.

I smiled enough to earn a thumb to the cheek. “You think it’s that simple?”

Angling the lid open, Charli placed the compass on my chest as if setting a trap. “You have the makings of magic right here.”

“Will you tell me about it, please?”

“I don’t know a thing about orienteering.”

I expected to hear that Alex had regaled her with all sorts of tales of being guided around the earth by bearings on a compass. It was almost impossible to believe otherwise. “Why not?” I asked.

“I had no use for a compass.” Her shoulders lifted again. “I couldn’t get lost in the Cove even when I wanted to. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. The ocean was east. That was my compass.”

For the first time ever, she had no story for me. That meant I was on my own when it came to sharing it with our daughter. “I’m disappointed,” I said seriously. “I thought you’d know all about it.”

“It just wasn’t my thing,” she replied. “What I really wanted was an astrolabe. That’s where the real action is.” I didn’t even know what an astrolabe was. “Imagine a tool that can measure the altitude of stars. How cool would that be?” she asked wistfully.

“That would be cool,” I agreed. “You never had one?”

Charli climbed off me. I made no attempt to move, hoping she’d come back.

“No, unfortunately.” She scraped her hair into a messy knot and magically secured it with nothing. “Alex read up about them but couldn’t figure it out. It was just too complicated.”

My initial thought of surprising her with one went out the window. If Alex couldn’t work it out, there was no hope for me. I snapped the compass shut. “I should stick with this then,” I said, waving it at her.

“You do that, Boy Wonder, and your daughter will think you’re the most amazing dad in the world.”

I slipped the compass into the hip pocket of her skirt. “I can’t tell stories like you do,” I said quietly. “I don’t know that I can bring her back into line with make-believe tales.”

“You won’t have to.” She took my face in her hands. “Just plant the seed and the story will come from Bridget.”

I’d been jogging the same four routes through Central Park for as long as I could remember. I much preferred running along the beach in Pipers Cove, but I made do. Jogging through the park wasn’t as gruelling as loose beach sand, but I compensated by running harder and further.

I liked that it was a solo pursuit. It gave me time to think. To keep it a solo activity, I had to get out of the apartment before Bridget woke. Some mornings were more successful than others, and this wasn’t one of them.

She cornered me at the door. “I’m coming too,” she announced.

A tutu and galoshes didn’t seem like appropriate running gear to me, but I had no reason to argue the point. I wasn’t due in at the office until late that morning. We’d been playing childcare tag all week and it was my turn to show up at work late so Charli could make a meeting she’d had planned for weeks. “Wait here,” I instructed, pointing as I passed. I let Charli know that I was taking Bridget with me and returned to the living room. Incredibly, Bridget was still in the same spot.

“You want to go to the park?” I asked.

“Yes I do,” came the quick reply. “With this, please.”

I didn’t ask how she’d regained possession of the compass she was dangling in front of me because I knew I wouldn’t enjoy her answer. I opened the front door instead. “After you, mademoiselle.”

Her face lit up with pure cheekiness. “Okay,” she beamed. “Let’s go.”

I took Charli’s advice and let Bridget take the lead when it came to explaining the ins and outs of the compass. By the time we’d reached the Mall, I had a clear idea of what she was expecting to be able to do with it. I knew that her archenemies, the squirrels, couldn’t read it and that she was going to eventually find treasure with it. All I had to do was work out how to make it happen.

My logical brain didn’t wander too far off course as I explained the basics of orienteering. Bridget was a good student as long as she had the role of teacher’s aide, and it wasn’t long before she was making up her own rules.

She sat beside me on the park bench giving me her in-depth version of how it worked. “If you press the button on the side, you will fly up in the air.”

Her expression was deadly serious, and she looked just like her mother.

“Baby, if you press that button, the lid opens.”

“And then you fly,” she insisted.

Excitement got the better of her then. She jumped up and stood in front of me, haphazardly waving the compass around.

I wasn’t concerned that she might drop it. My focus was entirely on her – my little street urchin with the messy blonde hair, red tutu and pink galoshes.

“Don’t ever change, Bridge.”

“I won’t,” she promised, pointing her compass at me. “Don’t you change too, Daddy.”

I assured her I wouldn’t, but that was a lie. I secretly hoped she’d never stop changing me.

Our apartment was beginning to resemble a woodworking factory.

Green flecks of paint peppered the floor, and despite the fact that Adam had last used it two days ago, there was still a faint whiff of paint stripper in the air. Considering the upheaval it caused, the favour of restoring the drawers was huge. In theory, Ryan should’ve owed him hugely, but in an odd turn of events, we were the ones indebted to him.

Our childcare problem was solved in an instant when he gallantly offered to watch Bridget four days a week. After a week off, Mrs Brown was back on board too, decidedly happier knowing that Ryan was relieving her in the afternoons. It wasn’t an ideal arrangement, but for now the Décarie brood was back on track.

The only one with any troubles was Bridget. Treasure’s shiny red pram hadn’t come cheap. She’d taken the epic misstep of falling into debt to her grandfather to get it.

I thought Jean-Luc’s plan of making her work it off was a good one. I wasn’t sure how he was going to pull it off, but we didn’t have to wait long to find out. Bridget was called to duty less than a week after the loan was made.