Introducing Daddy. Alaina Hawthorne

This is why they call it a heartache—it really hurts. I can’t stand this feeling. How long does it last? Months? Years?

      She bit her lip. Maybe Olivia could make the.but no, Olivia never made deliveries. After all, she owned the shop, and besides, she was past seventy and too frail to wrestle with the cantankerous transmission of the van or lug around heavy gift baskets. Evie glanced up at the clock. Nine forty-five. She mentally calculated the amount of time it would take to fill the order. An hour to put the basket together. Twenty minutes to make it downtown in the rain. Another fifteen to park and get up to the thirtieth floor. If she got right to work she’d make it just in time.

      Twenty minutes later Olivia came down the stairs from her apartment over the shop. Evie’s quarters took up the back half of the top floor of the giant old Victorian house.

      “Is that an order?” she asked, obviously pleased.

      Evie nodded, but couldn’t hold her friend’s gaze for long. The minute she saw sympathy in those warm, gentle eyes, she knew she would start crying again. Still, there was no hiding her feelings from Olivia.

      “What is it, honey? Are you still…?”

      Evie shrugged and gestured toward the order pad.

      “Two hundred and fifty dollars?” Olivia exclaimed. “But why the long face? This is wonderful. Praise the—Oh. Oh, dear. I…what did you say?”

      “What could I say? I promised to have it there before noon as requested.”

      “Evie, I’m sorry. Call her back. Tell her we can’t—”

      “No way. We need the order. It’s been a crummy week.”

      Olivia opened her mouth to protest but slowly closed it. The shop hung on by a tenuous thread at the best of times. “Maybe I could take it.”

      Evie rolled her eyes. “Thanks for offering, ‘Liv, but downtown’s horrible even when you know your way around.” She sighed. “Besides, this thing’s gonna weigh a ton. Would you look at the size of it? You’d be doubled over for a week.”

      Frown lines creased the older woman’s forehead. “I’m going to murder Ed and Frankie. If I find out they’re somewhere goofing off I’ll…”

      Evie gave her friend an attempt at a smile. “Oh, well, we were young once, too. I used to love to goof off on gloomy days, didn’t you? Hot chocolate, good books or an old movie. Maybe even a fire. Or best of all…” Evie’s voice was beginning to shake.

      Adam had loved rainy days. Years ago when they were first married, he’d worked construction to put himself through grad school, but. every rainy day meant the work stopped. Back then Adam always seemed gleeful to have a day alone with her.

      “I arranged this for us,” he’d say. “I just used my magic words—Come on, rain clouds, show your power. Adam wants a shutdown shower.”

      He was greedy for her in those days. If it was winter they’d build a fire, and if it was summer they would fill the fireplace with candles and enjoy the colors of the little flames dancing on smooth skin. Adam almost always insisted that they splurge on a bottle of good wine, and they’d take turns reading passages of their favorite books to each other.

      After love, it was always the same. He would trace slow patterns on her back. “Guess what I’m writing,” he’d say. “Now, if you win.” Most of the time they skipped dinner and fell asleep curved together on the hearth.

      But those times were gone—eroded by years of explosive arguments, hurt silences and the slow, creeping abandonment of two people sharing less and less. Sometimes Evie still couldn’t comprehend exactly what had happened.

      “I’ll make us some tea.” Olivia said softly. She had heard most of Evie’s story over the past ten months. The rest she just seemed to understand without being told.

      Before she left, she paused to look at the artfully packed basket to which Evie was just applying a few special touches—sheer pastel cellophane and satin ribbons. “Beautiful work as always. Are you sure you can do this?”

      “Oh, it won’t be so bad. I’ll just put on Frank’s slicker, pull the hood over my head and duck behind this big thing.” She smiled. “Besides, there’s nothing to worry about. There’s no way I’ll run into either of them.”

      

      By the time Evie pulled into the underground loading area beneath One Shell Plaza, her nerves were even more frayed than before. Just as she’d been leaving the shop, Juliette had woken up squalling and had refused to settle down. Not even Olivia had been able to do anything to soothe her. Then Westheimer had been flooded at three intersections, and though the van rode high, other cars had stalled and traffic had backed up for blocks.

      Finally she’d had to circle around and take the Allen Parkway. The trip that normally took twenty minutes had taken almost three-quarters of an hour. By the time Evie had turned onto Louisiana Street she’d felt the beginnings of a potent and long-lasting headache. Traffic had been snarled around the building, and she’d had to spend another fifteen minutes inching toward the light at the corner of Walker. When she’d finally made the turn into the underground parking, there hadn’t been a single space in the loading dock.

      Evie checked her watch. Fifteen minutes until twelve. The tunnel system would be crowded with lunch traffic—dry, smartly dressed, professional people. Evie was soaked just from walking from the shop to the van. Wind had blown the rain almost horizontally. Her hair, which normally fell in bouncy natural ringlets past her shoulders was wildly corkscrewed and unruly from the humidity.

      She double-parked next to a courier’s truck and stepped out of the driver’s side into an inch and a half of water. As the brackish runoff soaked into her good running shoes, Evie indulged her temper with a few words she seldom used and went to the back of the van. It took both arms to carry the basket, and she had to peek around it to see where she was going.

      She stopped at the security window and balanced the basket against the narrow ledge to sign in.

      “Where’d you park?” the attendant asked, not looking up.

      “I’m doubled, but there’s plenty of room for the other guy to get around me.”

      “Can’t do that, lady. You’ll get towed.”

      Evie felt the ache in her chest ratchet up a notch. “But there’s nowhere else. I’m running late and I’ll only be five minutes. I’m just going up to Van Kyle to deliver this.”

      He glanced up with unsympathetic hazel eyes. “Suit yourself,” he said. “But if you’re not down in fifteen minutes, it’ll be towed.”

      Evie scrawled her signature and bumped the heavy swinging door open with her hip. The blast of airconditioning made her damp skin feel clammy, and the distant murmur of voices echoing through the tunnels sounded spooky and disquieting.

      As soon as she passed through the double swinging doors of the service entrance she saw the sea of bodies surging through the narrow underground walkways. She wasn’t really surprised at the crush of people; no one would brave the weather outside today unless it was an absolute necessity.

      The knot of people waiting at the tunnel level elevator was at least twenty deep, so she made a quick decision and took an escalator up to the street level. Through the glass walls of the lobby Evie could see City Hall and the dark green oaks that lined the reflection pool. Their crowns whipped in the stiff breeze while the fractured surface of the pool reflected the dark underbelly of the sky.

      Across the street the fountains in Tranquility Park gushed water straight up, where the wind immediately tore it away while simultaneously dumping rain back down into the stone-lined ponds. Evie glanced back at City Hall clock. The day was so dark the hands glowed red even at noon. High noon. She was now officially late.

      The lobby was choked with people pressed almost up to the glass, some waiting to bolt for cabs as they pulled up