That was a warning.
And a reassurance.
And an explanation.
Gabe’s head went back a little. Came down in a little nod of comprehension. As if filing this away, adding it to his impressions of her.
“You know, I once put my hand against the smooth wall of this locked room and discovered it was hot,” he said casually after a moment. “Turns out it was because the room was on fire.”
“Mmm. Boy, that is one subtle metaphor, Mr. Caldera. Do you race into burning rooms, or away from them?”
“What doyouthink?”
“I think it depends... on who might be in there.”
Their eyes met again.
And in the quiet, the opening crystalline notes of Blue Room’s “Lily Anne” chimed from the car radio.
Eden reflexively slapped the radio off like it was an insect needing killing.
She left her hand there, as if covering it would prevent the song from escaping. Her heart was pounding.
“Hey,” Gabe said, startled. “Wasn’t that—”
He pivoted as a big Chevy Suburban pulled into the parking lot, screeched to a halt behind Eden. The mom whipped out some knitting. Moms everywhere, stealing minutes here and there for something other than momming.
Eden glanced at the clock on her dash. Two minutes and counting.
“Are you more like your mom or dad?” she said in a rush.
“Oh, definitely my dad. Smart guy. Taciturn. He had this very distinct sense of right and wrong. Kinda saw things in black and white, and I think I have a tendency to do that, too. Affectionate in mostly an arm-punch kind of way. Boy, did he love us, though. And once he loved something,anything, it was for keeps, hell or high water. Career army, which was tougher on my mom, but they were rock solid. Had really strong convictions about all kinds of things. I wanted to be like him. And I really wanted to make him proud. But he died when I was sixteen. Bum ticker.”
This recitation was pretty casual, but every word of it practically glowed with affection. Eden just sat for a moment, enjoying the warmth he gave off.
“He’s the one who gave you that baseball on your desk,” she guessed.
His face blanked in astonishment. “How did you...”
“You sort of seemed to commune with it the other day when I was in there with Jan Pennington.”
“Commune?Maybe I picked it up, but—”
“Communed,” she said firmly, laughing quietly. “Like you’re checking in with your dad when you give your sage Principal Gabe advice.”
He was clearly nonplussed, which was both funny and touching. This guy had a bone-deep confidence, built like strata in rocks through testing himself again and again.
And she realized the soft places on his inside might be just as enthralling as the hard places on his outside.
“I’m a grown man. I was a freaking lieutenant! I don’t need to commune with my dad to make decisions.”
He still sounded amused, but a little adamant. And just a little bit like he was trying to convince himself of this.
She tipped her head and studied him. “Maybe none of us ever grow out of needing...” She faltered, as she realized what she was about to say. “...needing a dad.”
Damn.
She bit her lip.
