CHAPTER SIX
NAOMI
At the corner of Main Street and Pearl, Naomi's place perfectly captures the energy of the small town. The last half block of residential homes has transformed over the last twelve years into a bustling downtown. The two-story stone structure is as I remember it — rose bushes run along the fence and the entrance, like a garden from a fairytale. A seasoned garden, nurtured long before Naomi’s time by a woman who had her own demons.
I suppose I’m no different from Naomi’s grandmother, Esther. Instead of repairing the strain in our families, we had both opted to dedicate our time and energy to work. Esther grew her garden and I grew my business. Except I’m determined not to let the growing rift between Charity and me continue. I pinch the bridge of my nose.Easier said than done.My daughter isn’t a little girl anymore that ran to her daddy after a bad dream. She has grown into a brave, kind, outspoken young lady who isn’t afraid to go after what she wants. I’d like to think her mother and I had a small hand in that. But I know she grew up far faster than I’d like. Has spent far too much time alone in a town where time seems to stand still.
Maybe it’s too late to get back what we lost. If it’s not, how in the world do I mend the growing divide between us?
Helping Naomi is the simple part. Running a business is second nature, and I’ll do whatever it takes for her to accept my help. Getting to know my daughter again, however, is new territory.
I inhale.Spend the holidays with Charity and help Naomi.Those are good enough places to start. Charity asked for my help, and this is my opportunity to become more involved in her life. My determination renewed, I walk up Naomi’s wide front steps and sit on the narrow patio bench.
From my vantage point, I have a view of Main Street. Flocked pine garlands tightly wrap around the lampposts, with large red bows perched high on each one, adding a touch of holiday cheer. Silver string bulbs fall from Lignum Vitae branches like falling stars against the night sky. It’s a breathtaking sight, yet time and time again I catch myself scouring the sidewalks for a glimpse of Naomi.
Tonight is supposed to be us getting started as business partners. Despite Naomi’s apprehension about the way I run my company, my plan was simple; lay my cards on the table and give her the night to come to terms with the fact that I financed her business. But I didn't expect the tightening in my chest or the deafening sound of my heart beating when I laid eyes on her in the park.
Mine.
That one word floats through my head, its echo growing louder. I haven’t felt an emotional thug this overpowering since my late wife.
This is different.
Naomi hadn’t been alone tonight. Watching her laugh and lean into a man that isn’t me heats my blood. Blinding me. Everything Naomi had said during our brief interaction blurred until I only saw her. The years have transformed her into a breathtakingly beautiful woman with the grace and softness I remember.
This is madness. I’m not here to claim Naomi Waters, I’m here to prove I can be a better father by doing the one thing my daughter asked.
Yet, if I had my way, there would be no more dates with anyone but me.
I glance at my watch. She still has five minutes, but I’ve never been a patient man. I’ve envisioned her on dates more than once. Wish, even, that she knows love and heartache … laughter, because it’s easy to imagine my daughter happy and thriving alongside Naomi as they navigate adulthood. But seeing her holding hands with that little turd didn’t make me happy. It did the opposite.
I inhale, ready to hunt her down and command her full attention for the next two weeks, when her laughter reaches my ears before I see her. It’s an almost carefree sound with a hint of nervousness that tightens my insides.
Is that the sound of expectation?
She and her date stop at her knee-high fence, oblivious to my annoyance. Naomi looks at her feet before gazing up at him, and my anger spikes at the subtle flirtation.
Are her cheeks warm? Flush? Is her stomach in knots?
Does her feelings toward this man matter?
Fuck no, I decide when her date closes the distance between them.
“Sorry again about earlier?” she says.
“Don’t worry about it.” He pulls Naomi against him. “Let me help you forget about our earlier interruption.”
I’m paralyzed. Icy dread flushes through my veins in rapid waves as another man’s mouth fuses with Naomi’s in a sloppy kiss.
Mother fucker.
My fingers curl into fists at my thighs. Time stands still — not in a good way. I barely feel my short nails bite into my palm as he assaults her mouth without fitness. I wait for the subtle moment of her shoulders relaxing and her body molding against his. For her arms to wrap around his neck …
Watching them is unexpected torture. A knife twisting in my gut.
Their moment ends, but not soon enough to calm the pulse drumming in my ears. He gives her a quick peck on the cheek — what I only assume is his way of saying good night before crossing the street. The little turd didn’t even walk her to the front door.
“You’re late,” I say the minute she’s in the yard.
