Worth Fighting For

“Not every man leaves,” Gloria said.

“You’re right,” Daphne agreed. “Just the ones I love.”

Helen tromped in wearing a far more appropriate red T-shirt with a big yellow flower on the front, looking like the quirky funny seven-year-old she was, rather than a young hooker in training. “Mom, everybody in school wears shirts like that,” she said, grabbing her bulging book bag and brown bag lunch.

“Everyone but you, Helen,” Daphne said sweetly, ushering her out the door toward the truck. “Everyone but you.”

They drove down the driveway toward the road into town and Daphne unrolled her window, the morning finally warming up. The breeze, warm and smelling like pine and manure from Sven’s farm, curled through the cab.

The For Sale sign was still posted and she hadn’t heard a word about her offer. She stuck her tongue out at the ramshackle old house as they drove by just to make herself feel better.

“Hey, Mom, guess what I heard?” Helen asked, turning bright eyes to Daphne. Her still chubby cheeks were pink and the wind teased hair loose from her braid to whip it around her face. Daphne smiled, loving her daughter so much sometimes it was like a physical pain. Budding gossip columnist or no.

“What did you hear?” she asked like a woman on the edge of her seat. She shouldn’t encourage this or Helen would turn out worse than Mom, but she was too darn cute not to.

“Josie said Jonah moved into the inn and Josie was trying to spy on him but her mom caught her and made her do dishes with Chef Tim.”

“Jonah moved into the inn?” Now Daphne really was on the edge of her seat.

“That’s what Josie said yesterday on the playground.”

“When did he move in?”

“Yesterday morning. Josie said she watched him unpack his bags and talk on the phone. She said he talks on the phone a lot.”

“How long is he staying?” Daphne asked and wished she didn’t care. She wished her cheeks weren’t hot at the mention of his name. Wished she could stop interrogating her seven-year-old as if she were the sole witness to a crime.

“I don’t know,” Helen said. “I’ll ask Josie.”

Daphne told herself that she was just curious about a man so utterly different from her. Still, she had to bite back a long list of questions she had about the man.

When is he leaving?

Why is he such a jerk?

Why does he look so good in blue jeans?

Is he married?

“You want me to ask if he’s married?” Helen asked and Daphne nearly drove off the side of the road.

“What?” Good God? Am I talking out loud? “Why?”

“So, you can date. Josie said he’s really cute.” Helen waggled her eyebrows, something Daphne did as a joke and it was about a million times funnier on her seven-year-old daughter.

“Have you been talking to Grandma?” Daphne demanded.

“No,” Helen said. “I told you I was talking to Josie and she can totally find out if he’s married.”

“Even if he was single, I’m not going to be dating him,” Daphne told her daughter in all seriousness, hoping to end this conversation.

Helen harrumphed and looked out the window, pulling blond hair out of her eyes. Daphne had known that the little cocoon of Athens Organics, the country she’d created of Daphne and Helen, wouldn’t last forever. Helen was bound to get interested in things outside of the farm and her mother, but Daphne had never really suspected it would be her love life.

“Is it because Daddy’s back?” Helen asked. “Is that why you don’t date anyone?”

Oh God, Daphne had feared this would happen when Jake came back around. She’d suspected Helen would get her hopes up and start thinking that they’d be a family again. The divorce wasn’t so hard the first time around— Helen had been so young. But this time, when Jake left—and he would, he was a leaver—his absence would ruin a seven-year-old’s high hopes and fantasies.

“Honey, Dad and I aren’t getting back together,” Daphne said clearly. She decided to slow down, deliveries be damned, and pull over to the side of the road so she and Helen could really talk. “We’re just friends and we’re going to all these parties to help him with his new job.” She put the truck in Park and let it idle.

“I know,” Helen said, and Daphne wondered if she was just saying what Daphne wanted to hear. “But it would be nice if we were all friends. And I think Daddy loves you.”

“No, honey, he doesn’t.” She stroked her daughter’s cornsilk hair. He never really had. Not the real her. And certainly not enough to make it work. “But he loves you like crazy,” she said, smiling and tugging on Helen’s ponytail. Soon Helen would want to cut off that long hair, wear something cooler than a long braid like her mommy. Daphne dreaded the day.

Helen smiled, some of the seriousness leeching from her face, only to be replaced by the quicksilver joy of a seven-year-old. “He’s taking me to the drive-in tonight. A double feature.”

Daphne steered the truck back onto the road. It was Friday and Jake’s night with Helen. She’d convinced herself at some point in the past eight months that this one night a week Jake had with his daughter was a blessing for all of them. He got to know his daughter. Helen got to know her father in a very small way. A small, very regulated way that would hopefully keep her protected when he reverted to his leaving ways. And during those few hours Daphne got some work done.

On Friday nights.

When the rest of the world was dating or watching movies as families or fighting or making love or putting their children to bed. She was walking asparagus fields.

It didn’t feel like a blessing.

It felt lonely.

She dropped Helen off at school, glad her little girl wasn’t too old or too concerned about being cool to forgo the kiss goodbye.

And only when she was halfway to her first delivery did she realize she never asked why Helen needed extra food in her lunch.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE RIVERVIEW INN had wireless Internet, Jonah could get a cell phone signal, his mother had been bringing him coffee and food. So despite having been forced to stay, he was doing a very good job of not leaving his cabin.

Jonah had been at the inn for exactly twenty-nine hours and he’d managed to avoid seeing anyone but his mother. It helped that he was busy. At least it gave him an excuse for his mother when she tried to persuade him to join her for a walk.

“We passed the second soil testing with flying colors,” Gary told him. “We’ve got the green light to keep building.”

“Excellent news,” Jonah said, though he had not expected anything less. “We’re ahead of schedule. I’ll contact Herb and we’ll get crews in there next week.”

“Okay, but do you want to do anything with the newspapers?”

“Send the press release like you always do,” he said, jotting “call Herb” on the pad at his elbow.

“But those press releases don’t go anywhere. We never follow up and maybe with this bad press we’ve been getting—”

“No explanations, Gary.”

“I’m not saying we explain. I’m saying we clear the air. We tell the world what we’re doing and maybe get some wheels greased for Haven House.”