* * *
One of Kari’s assistants dropped off the book for Maren the next morning. She read it while she ate breakfast. It was odd to see her calmly flipping through the pages as she ate her yogurt sprinkled with oat bran. I'd expected her to at least get a little defensive on Kari’s behalf.
When I came back from my dance lesson, she'd not only finished the manuscript, she’d made copies. She put one into a manila envelope for Kari's lawyer and one into another envelope. Then she made a phone call. Her crisp professional voice changed, became more intimate and suddenly eager to please. I stayed in the kitchen taking slow sips from a water bottle so I could listen.
She talked about Lorna’s book with more regret and emotion than she’d shown when she’d read it. "I’m sending a copy to her lawyer now,” she said. "I’ll send you one as well, if you like.”
Who was she talking to? My father?
The response to that, whatever it was, made Maren smile. "I take all the assignments you give me seriously, and besides, I adore Kari. I think she just needs a woman's influence in her life.”
My fingers froze around my water bottle. It was him. My father was on the other end of that conversation. All the years of wanting him, of feeling abandoned, of wondering what he would say to me, suddenly sprang to the surface.
Maren went on cooing about what a wonderful girl Kari was, while I fought the urge to grab the phone out of her hand. That wouldn’t be a normal thing to do. I did not want my father’s first impression of me to be that I was a crazy person who burst into other people's conversations.
Still, I stared at Maren unwaveringly.
"Yes.” Her voice returned to its normal businesslike tone. "I thought he should know about the book. After all, he’s the star of chapter one.”
I tried to make sense of the other things she'd said. "Did he ask you to straighten out Kari’s financial affairs?"
She held up one hand like a teacher correcting a student. "Alex is simply a concerned father. Of course he wants me to help his daughter. However, you won't mention this conversation to Kari. I don't want her to think I'm helping her as a favor to him.” And then she smiled again.
Too late. Kari already knew Maren was trying to make inroads with her father.
I hadn't planned on calling him; I wanted to meet him face-to-face. Still, it was aggravating: my father was just a redial button away—and I still had no way to talk to him.
After my shower, I took the sapphire necklace and slipped it around my neck. I decided to wear it all the time. Perhaps it was an outside chance, but my father could stop by and see Maren sometime. If he did, I wanted to be ready.