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Carrie was grateful, as she sat beside her mother, that her father had volunteered to bath Dana tonight. Her heart had been so heavy the last few days that any help getting through the day was appreciated. Coming to her parents’ had been a good idea. It was a distraction for Dana, whose incessant chatter about Charlie was heartbreaking. And a distraction for her, too. Someone to talk with to take her mind off being in love with someone who didn’t love her back.
Her mother put her arm around Carrie’s shoulders and the brave demeanour Carrie had been putting on since she’d arrived cracked into a thousand pieces. ‘Why, Mum? Why? I should never have got involved.’
‘Oh, darling.’ Meryl Douglas stroked her daughter’s fringe. ‘We don’t get to choose if or who we fall in love with.’
‘Dana’s going to hate me,’ Carrie wailed, dissolving into tears. ‘She adores him.’
Carrie despised herself for this weakness. After Rupert she’d vowed she’d never cry over another man and here she was, five years older but obviously not any wiser. Damn Charlie. Damn him to hell. It wasn’t fair to worm his way into her life, wake her from her sleep, show her a better existence and then deny her the right to claim it.
Charlie pulled up at the fourth residence not at all confident that he’d have any luck here, either. The house was a typical Brisbane champher-board, high-set house. It was plain, nondescript, the paint a little worn in places. But it was neat, the grass clipped short, garden beds decorating the fence borders. An ancient-looking, floppy-eared Irish setter adorning the bottom step hobbled towards him as he pushed open the gate. It sniffed the hand that Charlie offered and licked it.
‘Hello, there, boy,’ Charlie crooned, scratching the sweet spot behind the dog’s ear. ‘Is Carrie here?’
The dog looked at him myopically and Charlie chuckled.
He took a deep breath, climbed the steps two at a time and knocked on the door. His blood pounded through his ears.
The door opened. ‘Charlie!’
Charlie looked down to see Dana’s adorable face staring back at him. She’d obviously not long had a bath as her hair was damp and she was in her tie-dye pyjamas. She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his leg. Charlie felt his heart would burst it swelled with so much love for the little blonde-haired, blue-eyed cherub who had captivated him from the very beginning. He reached down and picked her up, settling her on his hip.
‘I missed you, Charlie.’
‘I missed you, too, Sleeping Beauty.’
‘Dana?’
A woman who must have been Carrie’s mother approached. They had the same hair and the same whiskey-coloured eyes.
‘Granny, this is Charlie.’
Charlie felt the lump in his throat grow bigger. Dana had introduced him like he was Superman, and he knew he would leap tall buildings for the daughter of the woman he loved. Could he be a good father to her? Her trusting eyes made him believe he could.
‘Hello, Mrs Douglas,’ Charlie said politely.
‘I take it you’d like to see Carrie?’
Charlie could see the reticence in the older woman’s eyes but he could also see an innate kindness. He nodded. ‘Very much.’
‘Come in.’
Charlie breathed a sigh of relief as Carrie’s mother stood aside and allowed him to enter. Dana clung to his neck and jiggled around in his arms.
He was led into a lounge room. ‘Come on, Dana, sweetie. Bedtime.’
Dana protested and Charlie passed her over to her grandmother reluctantly. ‘I want Charlie to read to me.’ Dana pouted.
‘Another day, Sleeping Beauty.’ Charlie shot Dana his most reassuring smile. If he had his way, he’d be reading to her every night.
‘Promise, Charlie?’
Dana looked so earnest and he crossed his fingers behind his back. ‘Promise.’
Dana and her grandmother left the room and for the first time he noticed Carrie standing in the doorway. He wanted to run to her but she looked distant, her arms crossed, everything about her discouraging any familiarities.
‘Don’t do that. You’ll only build her hopes up. You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.’
Charlie swallowed. ‘I’d like to be able to keep it.’
‘I thought you didn’t want to be a father to a four-year-old?’
‘Carrie…let me explain.’
‘Don’t waste your breath, Charlie. Save it for Veronica.’
‘Damn it, Carrie,’ Charlie swore, striding towards her. ‘I don’t want Veronica. I only want you.’
He was right in front of her now. Close. So close she could almost touch him. And she wanted to. She’d not seen him for two whole days and the potency of his presence was lethal. She pushed away from the doorframe and took care not to brush against him as she moved into the room, away from his intoxicating nearness.
