But surely she recognized the truth when she heard it.
Carrie squirmed out of his lap and stood in front of him. “I live in this apartment complex. Is that how you think about me?”
“No.” He sighed. “If it means so much to you, I’ll attend this ridiculous party.”
“No, thanks,” she muttered. “I wouldn’t want you to do me any favors.”
From her tone of voice, Philip realized he’d managed to offend her, which he regretted. Yesterday’s conversation with Gene had made him understand that she was a blessing in his life. A gift.
A gift he wanted to accept …
“Carrie, I’m sorry. I spoke out of turn.”
“Is that what you really think of us, Philip?” she asked, her voice uncertain.
He didn’t respond right away, afraid anything more he said would only make things worse.
“That’s answer enough. I’m tired… . I’d like you to leave now.”
“Carrie, for heaven’s sake, be reasonable.”
She stalked over to the door and opened it, sending a harsh shaft of light across his face. Philip squinted and did as she asked. “We’ll talk about this later, all right?”
“Sure,” she said in a sarcastic murmur.
Rather than wait for the elevator, Philip took the stairs to his apartment a floor above Carrie’s. He’d discuss this with Mackenzie, get her advice on how to handle it. Ironic that he was turning to his thirteen-year-old daughter for help with the very situation she’d engineered… .
The apartment was dark and silent when he entered. He switched on the light and walked down the hall to Mackenzie’s bedroom. Her bed was slightly mussed as if she’d sat on it.
“Mackenzie!” he called.
No response.
He checked the other rooms and found a note from her on the kitchen table.
Dad,
Mom left me a message. She said she wouldn’t be coming for me, after all, and that I couldn’t spend the holidays with her. I guess I should’ve known she’d be too busy for me. She has time for everything else but me. I need some time alone to think.
Mackenzie
Nine
Carrie didn’t understand why Philip’s comment about Madame Frederick and the others had distressed her so much. While it was true they were her friends, she couldn’t deny that they were all a bit weird. But they were also affectionate, warmhearted people and it hurt to have Philip dismiss them with such carelessness. She was still figuring out her feelings when there was a knock at the door. Whoever it was seemed impatient, because there was another knock immediately afterward.
“Just a moment,” she called out.
To her surprise it was Philip. “Have you seen Mackenzie?” he demanded.
“Not since we returned from the party.”
He exhaled and rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “Her mother left a message for her saying she won’t be bringing Mackenzie to her place for Christmas after all,” he explained.
Carrie saw a muscle beside his jaw jerk with the effort it took to control his anger.
“She was looking forward to spending Christmas with Laura,” he continued. “It was all Mackenzie could talk about.”
Carrie knew that. She’d spent time with the girl, discussing her hairstyle and wardrobe for the impending visit. Mackenzie had wanted everything to be perfect for her mother. She’d wanted to impress Laura with how grown-up she was, how stylish. She’d wanted to make herself as attractive as possible, hoping her mother would notice and approve.
“Mackenzie wrote me a note that said she needed time alone.” He checked his watch, something Carrie knew he’d probably done every five minutes since discovering the note. “That was an hour ago. Where on earth would she go?”
“I don’t know,” Carrie whispered. Her heart constricted as she imagined the pain the girl must be suffering. These few days with Laura had meant so much to Mackenzie.
“I thought maybe she’d come to you.” He shook his head. “I’ve tried her cell, but it’s off. I’ve called her girlfriends, but none of them have heard from her. Now I don’t know where to look. Think, Carrie.”
“She probably doesn’t want to be around people just yet,” she murmured, trying to clear her head of worry and fear in order to be of help.
Philip nodded. “Do you think she went for a walk? Alone in the dark?” He cringed as he said the words.
“I’ll go out with you to look.”
His eyes told her he was grateful. Carrie grabbed her coat and purse, and they both rushed out of the building.
Soon after she’d graduated from high school, when Carrie was eighteen, she’d decided to seek out her father. It had been a mistake. He’d seemed to think she wanted something from him, and in retrospect, she knew she had. She’d wanted him to love her, wanted him to tell her how proud he was of the woman she’d become. It had taken her the better part of a year to realize that Tom Weston was selfish and immature and incapable of giving her anything. Even his approval.
In the five years she’d known Jason Manning, at that point, he’d been far more of a father than her biological one would ever know how to be. She hadn’t had any contact with Tom Weston since. It had hurt that the man responsible for her birth wanted nothing to do with her, but after a few months she’d accepted his decision. If anything, she appreciated his honesty, hurtful as it’d been at the time.
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