Know Your Heart: A New Zealand - Tracey Alvarez Page 0,91
details, saying you’re coming for a flying two day visit, and you think I’ll let you waste a minute of it catching a taxi? Not bloody likely.”
He hugged her again, hard enough to make Savannah squeak, then abruptly let her go.
“Blimey, there’s nothing to you.” He pulled back, straightening to his full height. “We’ll stop at the pub for some fish and chips on the way home—and wait ‘til you see the cake the girls have made.”
Not going to cry, not going to cry… Savannah burst into tears.
“Ah, little diva.” He engulfed her in another hug, her face mushed against the scratchy wool of his coat.
He smelled like peppermint and Old Spice cologne. Comforting, familiar smells that transported her back to the childhood scramble to reach Daddy’s arms before her mum could. She remembered those bear hugs, being the focus of her father’s intense concentration as he listened to her babble about the things he’d missed while overseas. She’d craved longer and longer periods of that attention as she grew older, but once her parent’s relationship hit the wall, her father’s focus on his only child disintegrated.
“I’m not your little diva anymore,” she muttered against his chest.
He patted her back and smoothed down her hair. “So you told me when you were seventeen, but in my heart, you’re still my little girl.”
She sniffed. “That’s pretty lame, Dad.”
“Your old man is pretty lame now. I’ve lost some of my harsher edges. Married to the right person’ll do that for you, you know.”
Savannah swiped a hand over her wet cheek. “No, can’t say I do. Marriage didn’t work out so well for me.”
Her father let her go, digging around in his jacket pocket and retrieving a plaid handkerchief. “Yes, hmmph. Here. Don’t use your sleeve.”
A quick bark of laughter escaped out of her. “Dad, I’m not a kid.”
He grinned, and her heart gave a little squeeze.
“Sorry, old habits.”
Savannah took the handkerchief and blew her nose. When she looked up, her father continued to stare at her.
“I should’ve come,” he said. “Dealt with your smarmy little maggot of a husband, so you didn’t have to.”
Savannah’s chin tilted up. “Liam was my problem. I’m strong enough to take care of my own messes.”
Except the mess she’d made of her and Glen—she had no idea how to take care of that.
His lips curled into a rueful grin above his grizzled beard. “Always were the strong one out of my girls. You’d never give up if you wanted it badly enough.” He squeezed her arm, his eyes suspiciously shiny. “That’s why Rachel and I are so proud of you.” Then his eyes flicked down to the two suitcases at her side. “Anyway. Rachel’s dying to show you the album she’s made for you—she’s gone completely bonkers on this scrap-booking thing. Spent a bloody fortune.” He grabbed the handle of the larger suitcase.
Savannah froze, her fingers clenched around her handbag strap. “Rachel made a scrapbook? For me?”
Her father nodded, as if it were no big deal. “She got into my stash of old photos of you, clippings from magazines, interviews and movie posters and the rest. She was planning to bring it over at Christmas. Oh.” He stopped and shot her a glance. “That was meant to be a surprise. Guess you won’t be in Auckland for Christmas now?”
So many emotions swirled around Savannah’s head that she could do nothing but blink. He’d kept photos? Tracked her career? She’d always thought he’d never been interested—too caught up in the lives of his new family, his new daughters. And Christmas? They planned to visit over the holidays? And where would she be in a month? It felt as if she’d swallowed a dozen ice cubes whole, and they were tumbling around her stomach.
“Too many questions. Sorry about that. You must be exhaust—”
“I met someone, Dad. His name’s Glen.”
“Ah.” He released the suitcase handle. “That explains it.”
“Explains what?”
Her father touched her cheek. “The tears. The times you and Liam visited us, I never saw you cry over him—happy, sad, or mad tears.”
Savannah scrunched up her face. “No. Then you’ll be glad to know I’ve cried more tears over this man in the last three weeks than I ever shed over Liam.”
“Sad tears?”
She nodded. “And happy and mad tears. Glen’s not coming with me to L.A. He said he would, but…” Savannah fiddled with her handbag zipper. “He bought me the flight here. Told me I needed to get things right with you before I went to L.A. He said…”