Page 22 of A Heart of Little Faith

“But you said he’s dead,” she answered.

“That’s right.” Lily’s head pounded and her ears began to ring.

“I don’t have a real daddy. Everyone else at school does. Why don’t I have one?” she whined.

Lily closed her eyes. Images of Daniel clicked in her brain, one right after the other, like a slide show on super-speed. Her wedding day. Claire’s birth. Daniel singing to his daughter. She could feel the others watching her and the walls began to close in. “Your daddy was very real, honey. He may be dead, but he’s still your daddy. He watches over you from heaven and he loves you very much.”

“Well, he can’t come to school with me! We’re having a daddy-daughter lunch at school and everyone else has a daddy to bring but me. It’s not fair!” She burst into tears and ran into Samantha’s bedroom.

How do I fix this?Lily stared after. Her muscles contracted, and an invisible wall slammed shut and masked her emotions. Despite her body’s physical desire to remain immobile, her motherly instincts declared war and propelled her out of her seat. She rose and hobbled after Claire. If she listened hard enough, she could swear she heard her joints creak. With six words—“Why don’t I have a daddy?”—she’d aged fifty years.

Gideon grasped her arm. Electricity shot from his fingertips to her arm, and she flinched. “Would you mind if I went to talk to her?” He made small circles with his fingers as he caressed her arm, and his voice lowered into a velvety smooth tone that wrapped itself around her in a protective cocoon.

Lily opened her mouth, prepared to refuse, but nothing came out. His eyes, their brown depths unfathomable, destroyed the last of her resistance. She relented, deflated like an old balloon. She slumped next to Samantha as Gideon went after Claire.

“Are you okay?” Samantha put her arm around Lily’s shoulders. She shook her head, but didn’t say anything. “At least now you know what was bothering her.”

Lily sat for another minute without speaking. Unable to resist the mounting storm of emotions that blew through her—sadness, guilt, helplessness and fear—she strode out on wobbly legs onto Samantha’s balcony. Everything appeared far away and fuzzy. Traffic noise from the street below sounded elongated, muted and distorted. This had to be a dream, a nightmare. Her chest ached and the back of her throat hurt.

Yes, she knew what bothered Claire, but Lily thought it might kill her. She would give Claire anything, but she couldn’t bring Daniel back. She stared out over the city, without seeing anything, and took deep breaths. Her lips trembled and she bit them. Her breath stuttered in her chest. She swallowed hard and fought tears.I will not cry. She never cried, not even at her husband’s funeral. She’d been too overwhelmed by the weight of having to hold it all together and figure out a way for her and her daughter to go on to give in to tears.If I didn’t cry then, I won’t cry now. Through her haze, a slap of a hand against a wheel sounded in the background. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and Gideon spoke.

“Claire’s with Samantha.”

Lily nodded, unable to speak and unwilling to show her face. She breathed through her nose, struggling to calm her heartbeat, which drummed faster and faster.

“I spoke to her, and told her if it was okay with you and her teacher, I’d be happy to go to the lunch. As her friend.” Lily was touched he’d offered, but still unable to do anything but stand there. The immediate problem was solved, but the rest? Nothing would ever fix that. She gripped the railing with her, and the cool metal dug into her palms. If she squeezed hard enough, she might be able to bend the railing, like a superhero. For a moment, she was tempted to try. But she was no superhero, and in the end, she released her grip.

Gideon remained where he was, and she could practically feel his stare. She locked her joints, afraid the slightest breeze would blow her down. Without a word, he pushed himself over to her and braked behind her. If she leaned just enough, the backs of her legs would bump his toes. He took her hand in his. Its warmth barely penetrated her icy cold shell. Instead of curling around his, her fingers remained stiff, as if they still clung to the railing. He stroked them, massaging her soft skin and tracing her veins that eventually led to her heart. He rubbed her knuckles and the underside of her palm.

His thumb touching her hand saved her. Its insistent spiral and raspy drag on her skin reeled her mind away from the edge. She floundered, lost for a moment somewhere between her own distraught thoughts and his unspoken promise of protection. No longer spinning in isolation, but unable to rescue herself, she jerked toward him as her gaze bounced off his face and stared somewhere off in the distance. She couldn’t meet his gaze, couldn’t let him see how hurt she was and how much she needed someone right then, but she also couldn’t rebuff him.I won’t cry. I won’t.

“Come here,” he whispered. She squinted as he drew her into his lap. He was solid, secure, safe. Were it to rain, she’d swear he’d keep her dry; to snow, he’d keep her warm. Yet, she couldn’t give in; her mind wouldn’t let her body relax. She stiffened, but didn’t get up, and a million different thoughts banged around in her brain.I have to go to Claire. Am I hurting him? Don’t cry. Don’t cry. He felt strong, right. Up close, she saw gold flecks in his brown eyes, and a part of her wanted to remove his glasses. The musky scent of his aftershave enveloped her and the powerful muscles in his arms surrounded her, locked her in.

He stroked her back, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. That fire melted the ice around her heart. With a gasp, she buried her head into his shoulder, the floodgates opened, and she sobbed. He hugged her and let her cry.

“Shhh,” Gideon whispered against her cheek. His breath blew strands of hair into the air and released their jasmine scent. His chest became damp from her tears and he hugged her harder. Her entire body shook with sobs and still he didn’t let go. For the first time, she felt protected. “It’s okay.” He repeated those words until her sobs quieted.

She stayed still and let him hold her as she listened to the steady beat of his heart beneath his shirt, leaned against the rock-hard wall of his chest. It was so long since anyone had held her or comforted her. Those same hands had distracted her from the movie; now they protected her from the world. It would be wonderful to be able to depend on someone again, but it wasn’t meant to be. She couldn’t be that lucky twice. She sat up, wiped her eyes, and tried as gracefully as possible to get out of his lap.

“I have the same problem,” he said with a sardonic grin.

She exhaled and surrendered the ghost of a smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Let me know about Claire’s lunch.”

“I will. I appreciate your volunteering.” She wanted to focus on anything but her crying in his lap. She was humiliated—strong women didn’t do such things, and she intended to be strong.Sometimes, though, it is so hard.She averted her gaze as she wiped her cheeks.

Gideon changed the subject and relief washed through her. “Pizza?”

As if in answer, her stomach growled and they returned to the living room. Claire and Samantha sat together on the sofa. Claire’s face was red and puffy. She ran over to her mom. Tactfully, Samantha and Gideon went into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry I was mean to you, Mommy,” she said into Lily’s shoulder. Lily hugged her and stroked her curls. This was the body she was used to holding; this was the role she was used to playing.

“It’s okay, baby. I wish there was something I could do to make it up to you. I miss him too, you know.”

Claire stared at her. “I know. Samantha and Gideon told me.” Lily stayed silent. There was nothing she could say. “Gideon said he’d go with me to the lunch.”

Relief and a twinge of regret ran through her. “I think it’s a great idea, if that’s what you want.”