who deserved a good man, someone to share her life with and help raise her daughter. Someone a lot better than him.
* * *
GINNY STARED AT all the new cosmetics spread across her bathroom counter, defeat settling in every fiber of her being. Eyeliner pencils, a stupidly big eyeshadow palette, tubes of tinted moisturizers, highlighting sticks and a few other items she’d already forgotten how and where to apply. Did women really use all this stuff? Or did the saleswoman at the makeup counter know a sucker when she saw one?
It had been very expensive and now Ginny wondered how she was going to manage putting it to use when her hands were still shaking. She really needed to calm down.
Parker had left five minutes ago. And she honestly believed he no longer thought Tilda was his child. If he pressed, she had the consent to adoption Meg had given her. It was as good as a power of attorney, and had been witnessed by a social worker, who’d explained Meg needed it in order to give the baby up for adoption. The father’s name had never been on any documents.
It wasn’t until after several weeks—when Ginny had bonded completely with Tilda—that she considered adopting Tilda herself. She’d even spoken to an attorney about it, but the man had had concerns about the paperwork Meg had given her, and Ginny had been too nervous to move forward and have things blow up in her face.
By that time, Tilda had felt like her own daughter, and that hadn’t changed in all these years. But she still had that paper in her safe, and she’d use it if she had to. She just hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
If Ginny chose not to meet Parker for a drink and didn’t bother to call, she was sure that would be the end of it. She’d never see him again. Which was her goal, despite the ache in her heart.
How could she still feel anything for him? Anything but disdain was nuts. He could’ve contacted her once he and his mom were in the clear. But he hadn’t.
Determined to put all thoughts of Parker aside for her big night at the reunion, she faced the makeup once again. Unfortunately, her exuberance waned as she picked up the gray liner pencil that promised a sultry, smoky-eyed look. Ginny recalled it involved a lot of smudging. Not gonna happen—she was sure she’d end up looking like a racoon. Maybe she should just bag up the lot and return to the store for some help from the saleswoman. Before she could decide, the phone rang.
“Dad?”
“Ginny. I wasn’t sure I’d catch you at home. Isn’t this your big reunion weekend?”
She couldn’t imagine how he knew that...certainly not from her. “It is.”
“I hope you’re enjoying yourself.” He paused, probably wondering what came next during a normal parent-child phone call. “How’s Tilda?”
Okay, this was getting weirder by the second. “Um, she’s fine. She’s gone camping with a friend.”
“By themselves?”
As if he cared. Ginny quashed the thought. Lately he’d been trying to mend the rift between them. The least she could do was meet him partway. “No, the whole family went.”
“Well, good, I’m glad you have the weekend to yourself. Did your old gang show up?”
“Most of them, yes. It’s fun seeing everyone. I’ve recognized quite a few people. One charmer told me I could use a bit of Botox between my eyebrows.”
Her dad barked out a laugh that had her head spinning. When had she last heard that sound come from him? Ten years? Fourteen? “Don’t listen to that nonsense,” he said. “You’re a beautiful young woman just the way you are.”
Ginny blinked. His words brought a lump to her throat. What was going on? “Dad? Is everything all right?”
“With me? Of course, I’m fine. Perhaps mellowing with age, as they say,” he said with a trace of amusement. “By the way, I heard Tilda made the dean’s list.”
Startled at first, Ginny quickly realized it wasn’t at all odd for him to know about the goings-on at Roger Williams Preparatory Academy. He and most of his cronies were alumni, including the current headmaster. Truly the “old boys club.”
“Yes, she’s doing very well.”
“I must admit, I thought you were wrong in allowing her to skip the third grade. However, I imagine she would’ve been quite bored. It seems she has a head for science.” He paused. “Honestly, Ginny, I wish you’d told me she was in an accelerated program. I’m very proud of that granddaughter of mine.”
Ginny held her tongue. He should’ve been proud of her regardless. Ginny wasn’t surprised though. This was a well-worn theme in his life. If she had stayed at Juilliard she would’ve been the apple of her father’s eye. Not an outcast.
“Yes, I’m proud of her, as well. Funny you brought up her skipping a grade. At the rate she’s going she’ll graduate early and then be off to college. I’m sure going to miss her.”
“Nonsense. You must do what’s right for the child.”
“I didn’t say I would hold her back. Although if she wasn’t at an appropriate maturity level, I wouldn’t hesitate to do just that.” Ginny’s brusque tone was met with silence. She never spoke to her dad like that. She cleared her throat. “Tilda’s SAT scores should get her a scholarship, especially now that we know MIT has her on their radar. So I don’t think I’ll have to worry about shelling out exorbitant tuition.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, you know I’ll take care of my granddaughter’s college expenses.”
Ginny waited, holding her breath, half expecting him to give her a list of conditions. The offer was an amazing turnaround on his part, and she felt equal parts gratitude and resentment. If Tilda had been an average student, would they even be having this conversation? Would they be on speaking terms at all? Plus, she knew that if he were to pay Tilda’s tuition he would insist on full input as to which university she attended.
“Thank you, Dad. That’s very generous of you,” Ginny said, choosing her words carefully. “We’ll discuss it later. I’m running a little late here.”
“All right, I didn’t mean to keep you. Give my best to Tilda.”
Out of pure selfishness, Ginny sometimes wished she hadn’t let Tilda skip third grade. She couldn’t imagine living in the house without her. They’d been through so much together. But she would never clip Tilda’s wings, or do anything that would hinder her very bright future.
Anyway, if things went well with the Rhode Island Philharmonic, Ginny would have very little time to miss anyone. She’d have a second chance at a career—not the one she could have had. There’d be no Carnegie Hall in her future. Though if she did well, there was a good chance of steady work in smaller venues, which would be just fine with her.
But that presented another problem. At thirty-two, she still had time to have babies of her own. She’d been honest with Harlow... Ginny truly did want to have a bigger family. And she wanted to experience all of motherhood...the aches and pains of pregnancy, giving birth, all of it.
Oh, Tilda would always be hers. Ginny couldn’t possibly love her more. But she knew Tilda would be thrilled with a little brother
