Free The Secret Wedding Dress by Roz Denny Fox Page B

his knees, Joel wouldn’t allow herto turn aside. He gently brushed away the tear. “I swear, sweetheart, it’s me Mommy doesn’t like. Not you. Never you. You know how messy I let my room get. I don’t scrub the shower. Sometimes I wear holey jeans or the same shirt for three days. That’s why Mommy got fed up and left.”
    “But…she left me, too. I make my bed and put on a clean shirt every day. At school, only one girl ’sides me didn’t have a mommy. Why, Daddy?”
    Joel felt sweat bead on his brow. Maybe it’d been a mistake to send her to an expensive private kindergarten; at the initial interview even the principal had mentioned most of their students came from two-parent households. Friends warned him he’d face this conversation one day. He actually thought he’d be better prepared.
    “You were only a baby when Mommy and I found out we were both happier people if we didn’t live together. I can do my work here at home, but she had important stuff that took her far away. Out of the country. I’ll call and ask her for some tapes.” How could he tell Rianne that Lynn had chosen those years as a correspondent in preparation for her current job?
    Rianne slowly nodded. “Okay. But I think being mommies and daddies is ‘portant. When I grow up, I’m gonna make cookies ev’ry day with my kids. And I’m gonna work at home like you do, Daddy.”
    Joel hugged her tight, knowing he probably ought to explain that not every parent had the luxury he enjoyed of working at home. He’d save that for another father-daughter talk. Joel stood, and let her go back to her breakfast, all the while thinking he should dig through his boxes for a cookbook and find a cookie recipe.
    He jotted a note on an already long list. “We still have a lot of unpacked boxes, but what do you say we play hooky and I take you fishing this afternoon? This morning I thought we’d sign you up for first grade, and then have lunch at a café in town.”
    Rianne pondered his proposal as she ate the last peach half. “Inever fished except at the school carnival. What if I can’t? What if I don’t catch any?”
    “There’s nothing to fishing. When we were at the hardware store ordering the door locks I installed yesterday, I noticed they sell fishing rods. It isn’t necessary to catch any fish. The fun is sitting on the dock bobbing your fly in the water.”
    “Flies! Yuck!”
    “They’re fake. And I’ll bait your hook. Does that sound better?”
    “I ’spose. Can I ask Sylvie to go with us?”
    Joel almost blurted out that even Sylvie’s own grandfather used to confide that women and fishing didn’t mix. But what kind of message did that send to his daughter? “Sure,” he muttered reluctantly. “After we get back you can invite her.” With luck, she’d be busy or gone by then.
    R IANNE’S PREVIOUS SCHOOL had been the penthouse suite of a posh high-rise. This school was built of clapboard and stood in the middle of centuries-old towering trees. Joel assumed they were sugar maple and hickory, because a sign along the road said they’d entered Hickory-Maple Gorge. There were hints of red and gold in the leaves, a sure sign that autumn was around the corner. Joel had only ever visited his great-aunt during the summers, but she’d had shown him pictures of the vast wilderness known as the Great Smoky Mountains.
    Kicking through crisp leaves to reach the entrance to the rustic school filled Joel with heightened anticipation. He envisioned taking Rianne on weekend excursions to explore this beautiful countryside.
    Inside the office they were greeted by a pleasingly round woman. Her name tag read Mrs. Pearson, and in smaller letters under the title School Secretary, it said, Ellie.
    “Mr. Mercer,” she exclaimed before Joel introduced himself or produced Rianne’s records. Her knowing his name gave Joel pause, as did her next words.
    “Iwondered when you’d get around to registering Rianne…isn’t it? Moved into Iva’s