Blindsided (Indigo Love Spectrum) (14 page)

She nodded and sat up in her bed.

Norris reached into his pocket and found Gail’s
number on the caller ID. Perhaps this was some good
news. “Hi, Gail.”

“Hello, Norris. I talked to Reese and she’s willing to
meet tomorrow at ten-thirty.”

Norris smiled. “Okay. That’s good,” he said. “Thank
you for this, Gail.”

“Thank Reese. I wanted her to do this, but she’s the one who’s making it happen.”

“I’ll be sure to thank her tomorrow.” Norris borrowed
some drawing paper and a crayon from Angelica, jotted
the address and directions to Gail’s house, and folded the
sheet into his pocket. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Norris dropped the phone back into his pocket and made his way to Angelica’s bed.

“You look real happy, Uncle Norris,” Angelica said.
“Your owie must not hurt anymore.”

“To tell the truth, it does still hurt. But I think that owie and all the others will be all better real soon.”

* * *

“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea,” Reese said, closing
the curtain after peeking out the window for the third
time in the last five minutes. She jammed her thumbs in
the back pockets of her jeans. “I don’t think I’m ready for
this, Mom.”

“You are ready, Reese.” Gail placed her arm around
Reese’s shoulders and ushered her to the couch. “Norris
is your father. You don’t need to be nervous.”

“Norris is a stranger. And father or not, I don’t know
him. I don’t know if I’m ready to play nice.”

“You shouldn’t have to play. Norris has done nothing
wrong. He just found out about you, and he’s wasted no
time in trying to get to know you. That should mean something.”

R
eese grunted. “It probably means he’s expecting six
teen years’ worth of Father’s Day presents. He’d better
not expect me to call him Dad.”

“I think his only expectations are getting to know you
and being friends.”

Reese rushed over to the window when she heard a
car pull up. She grunted. “He drives a Porsche?” She
moved from the window and back to the couch. “Great.
My father is some old dude who’s trying to recapture his
youth by driving a flashy sports car.”

“Uhm, Reese, about that. Norris is . . .”

The doorbell rang in the middle of her mother’s
words. Reese held up her hand. “You don’t have to say
another word, Mom. I’ll get it.” She walked to the door and pulled it open. The tall, handsome, smartly dressed
man standing on the other side was nothing like the
balding, pot-bellied youth chaser she imagined, and not
nearly as old. “I’m sorry, are you lost?”

“No,” the man said. The sparkle in his gray eyes grew
brighter by the second. “Reese, you’re even more beautiful than your picture suggested. I’m Norris. I’m your
father.”

* * *

The butterflies in Norris’s stomach grew more rest
less. He thought he’d feel less nervous after meeting
Reese, but nothing could be further from the truth. Dressed casually in jeans and a pink pullover, Reese
looked like the typical teen. But she wasn’t typical, she w
as his, and that made her different. This tall, slim, beau
tiful girl was his daughter. His daughter.

The door opened soon after he rang the bell, but the look on Reese’s face and her question to him made him
think she was expecting someone else.
Was I lost?
What was that about?

“Is something wrong?” Norris asked. “I’m not early,
am I?”

“No, you’re not early, Mom just neglected to tell me
something.” Reese fixed unhappy eyes on Gail. “Isn’t that
right, Mom?”

Gail flashed a tight smile as she walked over to the
door and welcomed Norris inside. “Let’s sit down so we
can talk.”

Reese moved wordlessly around her mother and sat on the couch, her eyes trained on her lap.

“If you have any questions you can ask away,” Norris
said, settling into the end chair nearest Reese, watching her
ignore him. “I’m anxious for us to get to know each other.”

Intense quiet engulfed the room. Norris turned to
Gail for some assistance.

“The albums,” Gail said, walking over to a large,
wine-colored bookshelf built into the wall. “I have lots of
pictures of Reese growing up.”

“Great. I bet you were a beautiful baby, Reese.”

“You’d win that bet,” Reese said.

“Reese!” Gail chastised.

“It’s all right, Gail. She’s just being honest.”

“Here we go.” Gail returned with three large albums
and placed them on the brown leather ottoman that
s
erved as a coffee table and complemented the modern
style wine-colored sofa and end chairs. “I think these
would be a great starting off point in the journey of you
two getting to know each other,” she said. “In the mean
time, I’ll be in the kitchen preparing brunch.”

“Wait!” Reese stood abruptly, taking her mother’s
arm. “You’re leaving?”

“I’ll only be a few feet away. I’m not needed here.”

“Of course you are,” Reese said, wrapping a finger
around a lock of curly, long hair.

“No, I am not. You and your father need some time
alone.” Gail turned her attention to Norris. “Do you
want anything to drink? Water, coffee, juice?”

“No thanks, I’m fine,” he said.

“All right. Brunch should be ready in about an hour
or so.” Gail pressed her hand to Reese’s cheek. “It’ll be
okay, baby.”

Reese ambled back to the couch and sat, sighing.
Norris cleared his throat. “I understand how you
feel.”

“I don’t think so,” Reese said, still avoiding his eyes.

“Well, I suspect you’re feeling ill at ease and a bit uncomfortable about being alone with a close family
member you were formally introduced to only five min
utes ago.”

She looked at him and nodded. “I guess you do
know.”

Norris moved over to the couch. He thought to take
Reese’s hand, but decided that might be taking things a
little too far too fast. At least she was looking at him now.

“
Reese, when I found out about you I was surprised.
Stunned, in fact. But after the shock wore off, it made me
happy. Now, I don’t have any preconceived notions for us
and how our relationship will evolve, but I do know I
want to be a part of your life, and I’m willing to take
things at whatever speed you want.”

“Real accommodating kind of guy, huh?”

“I like to think so.”

If only he’d been that way with Dahlia last night. She
still might have run, but at least they wouldn’t have had
a fight. He shouldn’t have been so pushy, so insistent of
her feelings for him. Somehow he would make this right.
She hadn’t answered his phone calls, but if he leaned on
her doorbell, she would have to let him in. He loved her,
and he couldn’t give up without a fight. But first he had
to make headway with Reese.

Norris tried to read her expression, but it remained
noncommittal. “Are you willing to give me a chance?” he
asked.

“I guess,” Reese said. “I don’t know what to call you.”

“Norris is fine.”

“May I ask you a question?”

“Of course. You can ask me whatever you want.”

“How old are you? My mother is fifty-two. I don’t
think she looks it, but she’s fifty-two. I find it suspect you
both could defy time.”

“How old do I look?” he asked, a bit surprised by her
question, but hopeful her response to his wouldn’t hurt
his feelings.

“About thirty-five. I truly hope that’s not right.”

“
It’s not, but it sounded good.” He laughed. “I turned
thirty-seven a few months ago.”

She gasped. “Thirty-seven? How did you meet my
mother?”

“Gail didn’t tell you?”

“My mother hasn’t told me much about you,
although I have asked more than once over the years.”

“I got hurt playing baseball, and she was the doctor
on call. I thought she was the most stunning woman I’d
ever seen, and we ended up spending some time together.
Time that brought me a beautiful daughter.” Norris
reached for an album. “Would you like to narrate the pic
torial of your life to me?”

A dubious smirk curled her lips. “Is that your attempt at changing the subject?”

Norris laughed. Just sitting with Reese provided some
insight into her. She was playful, just like him, and a little
bit vain. “Yes and no,” he answered honestly. “I don’t have a problem telling you more about that time, but I
think it would be better coming from your mother. I’m sure Gail will be more forthcoming with you now.”

Reese nodded. “I guess you’re right.” She pulled the
album onto her lap. “This is me from day one to age
five.”

* * *

“Reverend,” Dahlia said with a smile as she reached
her pastor, who was waiting at the church door.

“Dahlia, I was so glad to see you at services today. It’s
been a while,” said Reverend Myles Leonard, pastor of Sweet Zion Baptist Church for the past forty years.

She hadn’t stepped through the doors of the sanctuary
in months—since Christmas service, to be exact. But
after things imploded with Norris last night, she’d
deemed the Lord’s house the best place to be. It also pro
vided an opportunity to escape the urge to return the
numerous phone messages Norris left, insisting they talk.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long, Reverend,” Dahlia said.

He closed his hands around hers. “The tithes you
send in every month are welcome, but we much prefer
your presence.”

“I know, Reverend. I’ve been . . .”
What? Busy?
Fornicating like nobody’s business with a man I didn’t plan
to fall in love with, and ending things immediately when he
admitted he loved me?
That definitely wouldn’t go over too well. “I’ve been caught up in a lot of things,” she
finally said. “But I realized when things get crazy in life,
there’s no place better than church.”

“Amen, sister. Your parents and grandma should be
coming in for the second service. They’ll hate they missed
you.”

Dahlia nodded. She knew for sure her grandmother would hate she missed her, but her parents would just use
the opportunity to get on her about Leslie. And she
didn’t want to have those hostile feelings in church. She
would contact her grandmother later, but being ‘talked
to’ by her parents didn’t give her any thrill.

“I’ll be sure to see them later.”

“
Will I be seeing you again soon, or should I just
expect you the next quarter?” he asked.

Duly chastised, Dahlia managed a little smile. “I’ll be
better, I promise.”

“Very good. May the Lord be with you, child.”

Dahlia nodded and proceeded down the brick steps
to her car, a black Jaguar she’d brought as a present to
herself after she lost the weight. If she hurried, she could
make it out of the parking lot before her parents pulled in.

“Dahlia!”

Oh, no!
Dahlia turned in the direction of her
approaching mother. With her bright yellow suit and feathered yellow hat, the small-framed Nona Sinclair
looked more like a giant canary than vice president of the
local community bank.