to sing to you “Until the 12th of Never, I’ll still be loving you”? Now it’s true, and never forget it. God loves you, Darcy. Loves you still. Your faith will always lead you to the right decisions in life. That’s the best treasure I can leave you.
I love you. I’ve always loved you. Your mother has always loved you, even when she couldn’t show it anymore. God loves you always. I will love you forever, sweetheart, beyond the 12th of Never.
Love,
Dad
Darcy closed the pages, her face streaming with tears. “Oh, Daddy,” she said quietly, and dissolved into sobs on Kate’s shoulder.
Chapter 3
Little Orphan Heiress
The little red Miata pulled into the driveway just after eleven. The living room lights were off, but Darcy could still see the TV’s flickering colors. She wondered which James Bond movie—Jack’s favorite indulgence from the video store—he had chosen. Live and Let Die, most likely, or maybe even You Only Live Twice, because that one started with James Bond’s own funeral.
“You have Jack to help you with this. That man’s a dream. And me. I’m dreamy too, aren’t I?” Kate put her arm around Darcy. “Dar, you’re going to be okay. You know that, don’t you?”
“No.” Darcy let her head fall back against the car seat.
“Look,” said Kate, “why don’t you let me take the kids tomorrow morning so you and Jack have some time to sort this out. They’ve canceled soccer practice and Thad is going nuts because I won’t let him turn on the TV.” Kate rubbed her eyes, and Darcy thought for the first time how long this day had been for her, too. “I don’t want him seeing all the stuff that’s on right now—some paper showed a photo of someone jumping from the Twin Towers yesterday.” She shook her head. “Everybody needs a distraction—something normal feeling. The kids can get together and play and then I’ll take them out for pizza.”
The images from the paper had left Darcy feeling cold herself. “The gates of hell” one fireman in New York City had called it. Her father was to have spent his last day at the gates of heaven, not watching the gates of hell open up in New York City and Washington, D.C. It killed her inside to know that such a gruesome day had been Dad’s last hours on earth. Cruel.
“Dar…?”
“Yeah. That’s probably a good idea.”
“I’ll pick them up at nine-thirty. Go get some sleep. It’ll all still be here in the morning. All of it.”
Darcy picked up the chicken bucket and the bank box from off her lap. She sat still for a moment. “Thanks.”
Kate just nodded.
Jack looked up to see Darcy coming through the front door, her hands full of clothes and boxes. She looked better. Exhausted, spent, but some of the tension had eased from her shoulders. He’d have to thank Ed Parrot for his suggestion next time he saw him.
Darcy tilted the boxes so that the bucket of chicken slid to the coffee table in front of Jack. “Let me guess,” he said, pulling off the lid, “extra crispy, all drumsticks.”
She smiled, sort of. “There’s even a few left. Dig in.” There was an explosion on the television and she turned to it. “Let me guess, Live and Let Die or You Only Live Twice?”
Jack grinned. “Both. It’s been that kind of day. Plus, it was two-for-one at the video store.” They knew each other so well. He paused in thought before asking softly, “How are you?”
Darcy kept staring at the television. “I don’t know. Okay, I suppose. But not really. Tired.”
An idea struck him. “Go get your pajamas on and come watch. The bad guy is just about to reveal his plan for world domination.” They used to do it all the time. Zap up a bucket of popcorn and watch Bond flicks in their pajamas.
Darcy returned, clad in soft pink cotton, and sat down beside him. Without a word, he wrapped one arm around her. With his other arm he pulled the throw from off the back of the couch and tugged it over her. She lay her head on his lap and exhaled. He felt her soften against him as he stroked the blond waves of her hair. How long had it been since they’d had time to do this?
Just as the last drumstick was gone and 007 was getting his girl, Jack looked down at Darcy to notice she’d fallen asleep. Her breathing was soft and peaceful. The knots gone from her shoulders as she lay against him.
When the movie was over, he hit the VCR remote and watched the blank blue glow of the TV screen fill the room. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and legs and picked her up. Jack held her there for a moment, the sensation taking him back. Back to when they were younger, before kids and middle school and dying parents and flaming office buildings. They would watch Bond movies on the couch and Darcy would always fall asleep. Always just half an hour before the end. The feeling of her asleep against him was warm and familiar. He’d scoop her up on those nights, like he did just now, and carry her to the bedroom.
There, in the blue glow, that younger woman returned. So much had changed. It’d been months since he’d seen her look like that. She’d been exhausted and beaten down by the endless care of her dad. It was like the life was draining out of both of them at the same time. She’d aged a dozen years in the last two months. Their life had dwindled down to Paul and everything else fell second to him.
And so much of everything else fell second to him.
She smelled of chocolate. They’d been to Graeter’s. Mint chocolate chip, if he knew her.
And he did. There was a small smudge of it at the corner of her mouth.
He kissed her forehead softly. She made a soft sound that hummed through him. No matter how unfair to Paul, Jack yearned to be the most important man in her life again.
“Movie’s over,” he said quietly.
They lay together later in the moonlight, listening to the night sounds waft through the open window. The moon had seemed harsh and cold when she’d been up nights with Paul. Now, the light poured rich and creamy through the window to play across Jack’s shoulders. She laid her hand on his chest and turned to rest her chin on it. Jack put an arm behind his head so he could look into her face. He smiled as he fingered a lock of her hair.
“Jack?”
“Hmm?”
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
“You’ve been spending your nights with another man.” It was a tasteless joke, but somehow Darcy was glad for the irreverence. Everything had been so very serious for so very long.
She swatted him softly with her free hand. He caught it in his and held it. “No, seriously. There was something in Dad’s safety deposit box. About the money.”
That got his attention. “More stuff we didn’t know?”
“Well, not exactly. It was a letter. From Dad to me. For me to open after he died.”
“The guy had a flair for drama.”
Darcy
