Page 64 of Reckoning

Briar reluctantly bid Tate goodbye, then carried her star map and her Star Wish Bear up to her room, put them on her bed, and went back downstairs to get to work, while Tate headed for Roger Lowe’s insurance agency.

Tate knew this was going to shame her father, and he didn’t give a tinker’s damn. He’d spent a good portion of his life seeing her hurt and drying her tears because of what her parents had said, or what they’d left undone.

He parked in front of the agency, picked up the bag with the cake, and headed inside the office.

Roger was going through emails he’d put aside yesterday because of the unexpected trip out of town, and Rita was going through the morning mail, when Tate walked in.

Roger looked up, startled by Tate’s unexpected appearance, and then even more so by what he took out of the bag and put on their desks.

“Briar asked me to drop off a piece of her birthday cake for each of you before the work crew ate it all.”

Roger’s heart sank. “Where did birthday cake come from?”

“From me. For her eighteenth birthday today.” Then he turned and walked out.

“Oh, yum,” Rita said, as she took the foil off of her piece and forked a bite. “I love bakery cakes. They make the best buttercream icings, don’t you think?”

Roger nodded, but the guilt was strong within him, and he couldn’t bring himself to taste it for fear it would taste like crow.

He sat for a few minutes, trying to think what he could do to rectify this disastrous oversight, but the reality was that it was already too late. He wondered if Mariah remembered, then decided it didn’t matter. This was his failure.

The downside for Roger was that the only florist shop in town was still in disrepair, so there was no way to order flowers. It was like Briar said. He’d never put her first. Not even when she was a child. There were no fences left to mend. Just a waiting game until she was packed up and gone.

* * *

Andy Sparks was dealing with his own disappointment. When Tate came into the store to pick up the cake he’d ordered from the deli bakery, he wanted to ask Tate if he’d reconsidered. He knew school was about to begin but even thought about begging him to come back to work just on weekends. Only he didn’t have the guts to put Tate in that position again. He understood and empathized with the reason he’d quit, but it didn’t change the fact that Andy was down one employee, so as soon as Tate left the store, Andy put up a HELP WANTED sign in the front window.

* * *

Tate went home after dropping off the cake. His mother was outside in her vegetable garden, and Tate was facing an uncertain future. He changed into work clothes and went out to help.

She was bent over a long row of green beans, and there was an empty bucket sitting at the end of a row of tomatoes. He walked over to where she was working.

“Mama, let me,” he said. “You hate picking beans. You pick tomatoes. I’ll finish these.”

Lilith straightened up, groaning slightly at the kink already in her back. “I won’t refuse the offer,” she said. “Did Briar like her birthday present?”

He grinned. “She loved every bit of it. I took a piece of cake to her dad and his secretary on the way home.”

“That’s nice. I’m sure he was grateful,” she said.

“And I’m sure he was wishing I didn’t exist, because he hadn’t gotten her anything. He didn’t even remember it was her birthday until I gave them the cake. I sincerely hope his conscience hurts.”

Lilith shook her head. “They have to be the most unnatural parents I’ve ever known. Anyway, thank you for the help. It’s already getting hot.”

Chapter 12

Roger came home for lunch with a birthday card and a brand-new one-hundred-dollar bill tucked inside, and found Briar sitting on the stairs drinking a cup of noodle soup, with another piece of cake on a little plate beside her for dessert. He came in with a swagger and handed her the card as if it had been his intention all along.

“Happy birthday, honey. That soup looks good. I think I’ll heat some up for myself and join you.”

She took the card, opened it, and smiled. “Cute card…and thanks for the birthday money.”

“Of course,” he said, hesitated, then patted the top of her head and went into the kitchen.

She put the money in her pocket and the card down on the stairs behind her, then went back to her soup. It was obvious that he was ill at ease. He’d patted her on the head—like a dog, for God’s sake. For a second she thought he’d been going to ruffle her hair too.

When he came back with his soup, he was all chatty. Not his usual taciturn self. Then finally, he blurted out what he’d wanted to know from the moment Tate Bandy had put the cake on his desk.