The Saint
Page 44
She lay down to take a nap. What if their conversation went late into the night? She needed to be ready for that. But as soon as she lay down on her bed, the phone rang.
With a curse and a groan, she dragged herself to the phone.
“Hello?” she said, trying not to sound 100 percent irritated.
“Happy Thanksgiving, baby girl.”
“Dad?” Eleanor’s heart dropped.
“Of course it’s your dad.” He laughed, but Eleanor couldn’t.
“Why are you calling me?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I love my daughter and miss her? Maybe because I haven’t heard her voice in months and I knew her mom would be working today.”
“Dad, we’re not allowed to talk to each other.”
“Who said?”
“Mom. My lawyer. My … Everybody.” Her father definitely didn’t need to know about Søren.
“We’re not breaking any laws. A man has a right to see his own child.”
“What do you mean, see?”
“I want you to come see me, Elle. Please? I’m going to be sentenced soon,” he said, his voice now devoid of all levity. “I’d love to see you one more time before I have to go away.”
“Where are you?” she asked.
“I have a little place in Washington Heights. You can be here in, what, an hour and a half? We’ll have dinner and talk a little. You’ll be back long before your mom gets home. How about it?”
“That’s not a good idea,” she said, even as her heart broke at the thought of her father going to prison. She’d never forgiven him for abandoning her the night she got arrested. But the truth was, she never really expected him to come in like a white knight and save her. That wasn’t his style. He was still her father, though, and she knew how brutal a real prison could be.
“Baby, it might our last chance to see each other for years. You know that, right? Years. Your mom will never let you come visit me once I’m in. She always works Friday nights, right?”
She did. Eleanor was alone. And her father was right—her own lawyer had said her father would probably be imprisoned in another state hours away.
“I don’t know….”
“It’s okay. I understand.” She could tell from his tone how hurt and disappointed he was. “But write down my address anyway? In case you change your mind?”
“Okay, fine. Give it to me.” She figured it wouldn’t hurt for her to have it. She scribbled the address down on a scrap of paper.
“I hope you change your mind. I’ve missed you so much. You doing okay?”
“Good,” she said. “I’m really good.”
“That’s good, baby,” he said softly, with such tenderness in his voice she found her eyes filling with tears and her throat closing up. “I want you to be happy.”
“I am. Promise.”
“Good. And you know I’m sorry I got you mixed up in my mess.”
“I know. I know you’re sorry.”
“Miss you. I’m home all day if you change your mind.”
“All right. Happy Thanksgiving.” She didn’t know what else to say.
“I love you, Elle. Always have, always will.”
Eleanor could barely swallow for the pain in her throat.
“Love you, too,” she whispered.
And then he hung up.
It wouldn’t hurt, would it? Seeing him for an hour? Except Søren had told her never to speak to or see her father again. Maybe he’d let her if she asked permission? Maybe he’d understand that she wouldn’t see her dad again for years and this might her last chance.
She picked up the phone again and called Sacred Heart. She had the number that rang directly into Søren’s office. But it wasn’t Søren who answered.
“Sacred Heart Catholic Church,” a woman’s voice answered over the line.
“Hi, Diane, it’s Elle,” she said to Søren’s secretary. “Is Father S. in? I have a question for him about my hours.”
“No, hon. He’s out of town with family for the holiday. Father Jim O’Neil from Immaculate is handling the masses until he gets back. Can I help you?”
Eleanor couldn’t answer at first. Søren was out of town for the holiday? But they had plans. He’d promised to answer her questions as soon as she finished watering the stick. That would be today. He hadn’t even told her he was leaving.
“Elle?”
“No, it’s cool. It wasn’t important.”
A sense of betrayal seared her. How could Søren have forgotten about her? Forgotten to even tell her he was leaving for four days? He would have been furious at her if she disappeared without telling him where she’d gone. And he’d done it like it was nothing, like her feelings and their plans didn’t matter at all.
She looked down at the scrap of paper and the address on it.
If Søren couldn’t be bothered to keep up his end of the bargain, why should she?
She took a quick shower and put on her best clothes—a new pair of jeans and a low-cut black sweater with a label from some fancy boutique she’d found at Goodwill, the original tags still on it. Washington Heights wasn’t the greatest neighborhood, but she wanted to look good for the city. She shoved her feet into her boots and grabbed her coat. She had about a hundred dollars saved in ones and fives rubber banded around the business card for Edge Enterprises tucked in her dresser. That was more than enough to get her to the city and back.
With a curse and a groan, she dragged herself to the phone.
“Hello?” she said, trying not to sound 100 percent irritated.
“Happy Thanksgiving, baby girl.”
“Dad?” Eleanor’s heart dropped.
“Of course it’s your dad.” He laughed, but Eleanor couldn’t.
“Why are you calling me?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I love my daughter and miss her? Maybe because I haven’t heard her voice in months and I knew her mom would be working today.”
“Dad, we’re not allowed to talk to each other.”
“Who said?”
“Mom. My lawyer. My … Everybody.” Her father definitely didn’t need to know about Søren.
“We’re not breaking any laws. A man has a right to see his own child.”
“What do you mean, see?”
“I want you to come see me, Elle. Please? I’m going to be sentenced soon,” he said, his voice now devoid of all levity. “I’d love to see you one more time before I have to go away.”
“Where are you?” she asked.
“I have a little place in Washington Heights. You can be here in, what, an hour and a half? We’ll have dinner and talk a little. You’ll be back long before your mom gets home. How about it?”
“That’s not a good idea,” she said, even as her heart broke at the thought of her father going to prison. She’d never forgiven him for abandoning her the night she got arrested. But the truth was, she never really expected him to come in like a white knight and save her. That wasn’t his style. He was still her father, though, and she knew how brutal a real prison could be.
“Baby, it might our last chance to see each other for years. You know that, right? Years. Your mom will never let you come visit me once I’m in. She always works Friday nights, right?”
She did. Eleanor was alone. And her father was right—her own lawyer had said her father would probably be imprisoned in another state hours away.
“I don’t know….”
“It’s okay. I understand.” She could tell from his tone how hurt and disappointed he was. “But write down my address anyway? In case you change your mind?”
“Okay, fine. Give it to me.” She figured it wouldn’t hurt for her to have it. She scribbled the address down on a scrap of paper.
“I hope you change your mind. I’ve missed you so much. You doing okay?”
“Good,” she said. “I’m really good.”
“That’s good, baby,” he said softly, with such tenderness in his voice she found her eyes filling with tears and her throat closing up. “I want you to be happy.”
“I am. Promise.”
“Good. And you know I’m sorry I got you mixed up in my mess.”
“I know. I know you’re sorry.”
“Miss you. I’m home all day if you change your mind.”
“All right. Happy Thanksgiving.” She didn’t know what else to say.
“I love you, Elle. Always have, always will.”
Eleanor could barely swallow for the pain in her throat.
“Love you, too,” she whispered.
And then he hung up.
It wouldn’t hurt, would it? Seeing him for an hour? Except Søren had told her never to speak to or see her father again. Maybe he’d let her if she asked permission? Maybe he’d understand that she wouldn’t see her dad again for years and this might her last chance.
She picked up the phone again and called Sacred Heart. She had the number that rang directly into Søren’s office. But it wasn’t Søren who answered.
“Sacred Heart Catholic Church,” a woman’s voice answered over the line.
“Hi, Diane, it’s Elle,” she said to Søren’s secretary. “Is Father S. in? I have a question for him about my hours.”
“No, hon. He’s out of town with family for the holiday. Father Jim O’Neil from Immaculate is handling the masses until he gets back. Can I help you?”
Eleanor couldn’t answer at first. Søren was out of town for the holiday? But they had plans. He’d promised to answer her questions as soon as she finished watering the stick. That would be today. He hadn’t even told her he was leaving.
“Elle?”
“No, it’s cool. It wasn’t important.”
A sense of betrayal seared her. How could Søren have forgotten about her? Forgotten to even tell her he was leaving for four days? He would have been furious at her if she disappeared without telling him where she’d gone. And he’d done it like it was nothing, like her feelings and their plans didn’t matter at all.
She looked down at the scrap of paper and the address on it.
If Søren couldn’t be bothered to keep up his end of the bargain, why should she?
She took a quick shower and put on her best clothes—a new pair of jeans and a low-cut black sweater with a label from some fancy boutique she’d found at Goodwill, the original tags still on it. Washington Heights wasn’t the greatest neighborhood, but she wanted to look good for the city. She shoved her feet into her boots and grabbed her coat. She had about a hundred dollars saved in ones and fives rubber banded around the business card for Edge Enterprises tucked in her dresser. That was more than enough to get her to the city and back.
