she’d given birth only to wake up to find her baby gone. She had some idea.
“Well this entire Lake George vacation mess could have been avoided if you’d taken the time to get to know Jessie’s mother before you slept with her.”
“Trust me,” he said. “If I’d have taken the time to get to know her, I would not have slept with her.”
For some reason that struck her as funny.
“Enjoying this are you?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Okay. Maybe a little. But moving on.” Since plan A didn’t work, time to move on to plan B. “Let’s play doctor.”
He looked around then leaned in and whispered. “To do the game justice we’ll need some privacy.”
“You are unbelievable,” Scarlet reprimanded him. “I am trying to clue you in to Jessie’s fears about Lake George. But maybe it’s not as important to you as I’d thought. And since there are plenty of more important things I could be doing.” She pushed back her chair.
“Wait.” He grabbed her hand to stop her from standing. “I’m sorry,” he said, sounding sincere. “I can’t help it. There’s something about you.” He studied her as if trying to figure out what. “I’ll behave. I promise.” He held up his right hand, as if that made his words more believable.
“Okay, then.” Scarlet slid her chair back under the table. “You’re the doctor. I’m going to tell you a hypothetical situation and you’re going to tell me what you think.”
“Hypothetical,” he clarified with a tilt of his head and one raised eyebrow.
“Yes.” She nodded. “Purely hypothetical.”
“Got it.”
“A woman has a near-death drowning experience as a little girl and grows up with a crippling fear of the water. She has a daughter. The daughter grows up under the mother’s watchful eye, never allowed in the ocean, a lake or a swimming pool, and therefore never given the opportunity to learn how to swim. Do you think it’s reasonable to assume the daughter may also develop a fear of water?”
He smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. “And all this time I’ve been playing up how much fun she’d have at the lake, jumping off the dock in the backyard,” he said. “Boating. Tubing. Riding wave runners. I’ve no doubt traumatized her. Why didn’t she tell me?” He looked at Scarlet for the answer.
“It’s been seventeen years since I’ve spent any time in a thirteen-year-old’s mixed up mind, but maybe she’s embarrassed. Or she doesn’t want you to blame her mom. Or she somehow thinks you’ll belittle her fear or force her to deal with it. I honestly don’t know.”
Lewis sat there, staring at the table.
“What are you going to do now that you’ve taken the time to really put some thought into why Jessie doesn’t want to go to Lake George and you’ve come up with the possibility she may be scared of the water,” Scarlet asked. “And might I say good job of coming up with it totally on your own and without the help of anyone else.”
Determined eyes met hers. “When we get home tonight I’m going to sit Jessie down and we’re going to discuss her exact reasons for not wanting to go to Lake George. And if she doesn’t bring up a fear of water or an inability to swim, I will find a way to work it into the conversation.”
Finally. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”
The words weren’t fully out of her mouth when someone came to stand beside their table. Scarlet looked up to see Linda from the NICU, looking down at where Lewis still held her hand in his.
“Well what have we here?” Linda asked with a gleam in her gossip-mongering, match-making eyes.
Not good.
* * *
“Must I spend my Saturday afternoon in this touristy hell that is Times Square?” Scarlet complained as they maneuvered along the crowded sidewalk. Lewis kept an eye on Jessie who stopped to look at scarves laid out on a street vendor’s table.
“Stop being a cynical New Yorker,” he chided delighted to be away from the hospital and his condo, to be outside on a beautiful sun-shiny spring day on his first fun New York City excursion with his daughter. And having Scarlet along upped the enjoyment factor significantly.
“Technically I’m a Jersey girl.”
Maybe so, but she looked the part of a chic New York City woman in her wedge-heeled open toed sandals, which displayed some perfectly manicured bright red toe nails, a pair of trendy knee-length cargo shorts that sat low on her hips, and a clingy red tank that accentuated her flat abdomen and small—although not too small—breasts. An over-sized red leather bag slung over her shoulder, a sleek ponytail fastened with a fancy silver clip, and silver hoop earrings finished off her very fashionable, very appealing look.
“Remind me again why I’m here?” she asked.
Jessie didn’t buy a scarf, but she did purchase a pretzel. He watched her count her change like he’d told her and put the money into her front pocket. “Because you told Jessie she could call you anytime for any reason.”
Scarlet snapped her fingers. “Right. And she wanted me to take her shopping for a bathing suit and some new vacation clothes.”
After his conversation with Scarlet, Lewis had carefully, patiently and tactfully worked to pry the truth out of Jessie. And once she’d opened up to him, months of accumulated fears, concerns and tears had come pouring out. They’d talked for hours, and before bed Jessie had actually said, “Thanks, dad.” His first amiable ‘dad’ followed by his very first hug and kiss good night from his daughter. A moment he would never forget. And though he’d never admit it to anyone, he’d teared up after she’d left the room, overwhelmed with relief. And hope.
“Yet somehow we wound up in Times Square. If I’m the one taking her to lunch and shopping,” Scarlet peered up at him from the corners of her eyes, “Why are you here again?”
“Because I’m financing this little clothes shopping expedition, so I get the right of final approval.”
Scarlet’s smile did something tingly to his insides. “Oh you think so?” she asked.
He was the father. He knew so.
In an attempt to avoid a very persistent man trying to hand her a leaflet of some sort, Scarlet bumped into him and tripped. Lewis caught her around her narrow waste. “We’re not interested,” he said firmly and the man retreated.
“Why’s that guy out in public in his underwear?” Jessie went up on her tiptoes and strained her neck to see around a group that’d gathered on the sidewalk. “And a cowboy hat and boots? And why are people taking their picture with him?”
“Let’s keep walking,” Lewis said, steering Jessie and Scarlet away.
“He does it to attract attention to himself so he can make some money by charging people who want to take a picture with him,” Scarlet explained. “Tourists spend money on the craziest things.”
Lewis
