the stupid things when she’d been a kid. She’d looked for them in old diners or bowling alleys and had kept a log of where she found them.
She rested her fingers on the dial. Things had been easier back then. Simpler. She and her dad had been tight—a team in a way. No matter what, she knew he would be there for her.
Not anymore, she thought grimly.
She rose and looked around the room. It was a nice size, with a pretty four-poster bed. There was a dresser and matching nightstands. The comforter was nice, and there were lots of pillows.
She thought about lying down and taking a nap, but decided it was too late in the day. She was already having trouble sleeping at night. Better to be tired for a little longer.
She opened her tote bag and took out a little Winnie the Pooh music box. When she and Chandler had discovered they were having a boy, they’d spent nearly a month trying to figure out the theme for their baby’s room. Eventually they’d settled on Winnie the Pooh, done in light blue and pale yellow. Right after that, she’d found the music box and had bought one for herself and had sent one to Chandler.
She’d brought it with her to feel more connected and because she had nowhere to put it. Once Chandler returned, they could move back into base housing, but right now she was pretty much homeless.
And stuck, she thought. Stuck where she didn’t want to be.
She rested her hand on her belly. “It’s just you and me, little one. I swear, no matter what, I will never do to you what your grandmother did to me.”
She felt the baby stir. The baby with no name, she thought, smiling. “Once you’re born we’ll name you,” she whispered. “Your dad and I have a list of names, but we want to see you first. We love you very much.”
She left the bedroom and walked into the living room. Her dad was still there, hovering by her luggage. He looked a little stunned, which almost made her feel bad. She knew she was being awful, but so what? He deserved it.
“Could you bring my bags in?” she asked, carefully avoiding looking at him.
Her dad picked them up as if they weighed nothing and started down the hall. When they were in place, on the bed, he turned back to her.
“Joylyn, what’s wrong? Why are you so mad at me? I meant what I said—I’m happy you’re here. I want us to be close again, but I don’t know what happened.”
For a second she wanted to say it didn’t matter and throw herself into his arms, the way she had when she’d been little. But she didn’t—partly because she was still mad and partly because she didn’t know if he would catch her and hold her tight. He’d let her go so easily before. Why should she think he cared about her now?
“What happened is you abandoned me, emotionally and physically. You went away. One day you were there and then you were gone. Wow—that’s what Mom did, too, just now. Is this part of a master plan?”
His confusion was nearly comical. “I never abandoned you. You refused to see me. You told me you didn’t want anything to do with me. I showed up week after week and you slammed the door in my face.”
“So? You’re the parent. You’re not supposed to give up. If you cared, why didn’t you make me hang out with you? Why didn’t you insist I stay with you on the weekends? You could have forced me, but you didn’t. You were happy to have your time back. You never wanted to spend time with me.”
She felt tears forming and willed them away. The ache in her back got a little worse, but she ignored that, too.
“That’s not true. I wanted our time together. That was important to me.” He stared at her. “Joylyn, you’re my daughter and I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
“Oh, please. You disappeared for weeks at a time. When you came back, you weren’t interested in me at all. Then you went away again for like a year.”
“I was working.”
“On some secret assignment. I know. As if.” The man worked for the Phoenix Police Department. What kind of “secret assignment” would have taken him out of the city? “You could have seen me if you wanted to.”
“Joylyn, I wasn’t around because of my job.”
She held up her hand.