Page 7 of Hard Focus
“Forgive me? What are you—”
Connie made a gesture where Addy couldn’t see,andhe stopped talking. Heat engulfed her hand, his fingers wrapping around to hold tight. “Can you, sweetheart?” Addy nodded. Connie leaned over to put her lips close to hisearand whispered the best advice she could give him. “Okay,Jonas,here’s your chance to make today matter for this little girl. You want her to forever remember her father’s birthday with hurt and anger, or as a happy memory to build on goingforwards? Because I guarantee that what you decide in the next thirty-seconds will ensure one of those two things happens.” His fingers tightened around hers and Connie fought against wincing even as he ground her bones together. “Now be the adult, and tell her you’re sorry.” She straightened and yanked her hand free from his painful grip. Settling back into the seat, she gave Addy a smile over her shoulder, watching the little girl’s chin quiver with suppressed sobs.
They drove on a minute, then another, and five minutes later Connie thought she’d missed the mark with what she’d told Jonas. Addy had stopped audibly crying, but the atmosphere in the car was still oppressive and rank with fear and anger. As Jonas drove into the zoo parking lot, he picked out a spot far from other cars and backed between the lines. Once the car was in Park, he unbuckled and turned so fast Connie found herself rearing back from him, startled by the movement. He wasn’t looking at her, though, his eyes were fixed on Addy. Connie held her breath, waiting to see what he would say.
“Adrianne, I’m sorry. Deeply and truly. You’re right, I’m not supposed to talk about your mother. But more than that, it shouldn’t take a rule to make me do the right thing. Uncle Cole made me mad, and I took that out on you, and that wasn’t the right thing to do, either. I’m sorry, kiddo, and I hope you can forgive me.”
For a moment Connie didn’t know if Addy would give Jonas what he asked for, what she’d said she could offer, and then the little girl proved herself to be more mature than her years when she spoke. “It wasn’t nice.”
Jonas shook his head, leaning harder against the back of the seat. “No, it wasn’t.”
“You wasn’t nice.”
“No, Adrianne, I wasn’t.”
“Mommy says people don’t always mean to do things they aren’tasuppostto do, like break the TV remote. If I didn’t mean to, then it’san assident. Not an onpurposeadent. Did you mean to hurt my feels?”
“I never meant to make you cry.”
“An assident,” she summarized, and Jonas nodded, his expression solemn. “I forgiveassidents.”
“Thanks. My sweet girl.” He turned then and looked at Connie, gaze dipping from her eyes to her lips and back again. “Do you forgive me?”
Connie knew his words to Addy had been lies.Inthe moment, he had clearly meant to lash out at whoever was inrangeof his anger, wounding them the only reason for the words he’d flung around. She still couldn’t reconcile the man she thought she knew with the one who had acted so cruelly to her and his own daughter. For the sake of the day, she had to pretend to believe his request for forgiveness, as weak as it was.Time for some thinking to be done. “I accept your apology.” Leaning closer, she let him press his lips to the curve of her ear as she whispered, “Never, ever do anything like that around me again.” His grip around her upper arm tightened. “Let’s try and have a good day.”
He pulled back then and stared into her face for a long moment, an unspoken emotion swimming through his eyes. “Who’s ready for some cotton candy?” Addy didn’t respond, but Connie heard the click of her seat belt. “Come on, baby,” Jonas urged her with a murmured plea. “Let me fix this.”
“You get one chance,” she promised him, still feeling the need to make certain how seriously she was taking the episode. “Make it count.”
Slowly the corners of his mouth lifted in a smile. Then he bent to press his forehead against hers. “I love you.” Connie froze. Those were words she had carefully dodged over their weeks and months of dating, changing topics each time it felt as if he were close to uttering them, and now she didn’t know how to respond. She was still too angry to consider what it meant that he passed them out as a way to cover the hurt inflicted by his own words. He didn’t wait, thankfully, but released her and opened his door, shouting as he exited the car, “It’s my birthday, and I’m at the zoo with my best girls. Couldn’t ask for a better day.”
“Stay,” he urged her again, hands firm on her hips.
“Why don’t you have any baby pictures of Addy?” Connie tipped her head to one side and watched as he shut down. His eyes went cold, and then the muscles in his face firmed, grew taut, lips narrowing to a slash across his face. “We looked all through what you have, and it’s like she dropped into your life just about a year ago.”Which was about when I met him. “The drawing she did for yourpresentwas good, but what we wanted to do was frame a picture of you holding her. I looked through the box you gave me, and there’s nothing, Jonas. Why is that?” The few pictures he did have were on the steps of some building, and all looked to have been taken the same day. “Where were you when she was tiny?”
“I don’t have pictures of her from then. You know I’m not the sentimental type, Connie. Jesus, you’ve given me grief about it more than once.”
Connie cocked her head to the side in confusion. “No, I haven’t.”
“Sure you have. It’s what you’re doing right now. What are you getting at?” His fingers dug into her hips, the grip painful enough to promise bruises tomorrow.
She squirmed uncomfortably, and his hold tightened until she stopped moving. “Jonas, that hurts.”
His hands flexed, then loosened. “What are you getting at with these questions, huh? What does it matter? We’re talking aboutgrown-upthings now, not the kid.”
“Adrianne or Addy,” shesaid,her words a conscious repetition of what Cole had told him earlier in the day. The comparison wasn’t lost on him, and she knew it when he pulled away from her entirely, taking two steps to put his back against the wall. Arms crossed on his chest, she watched the fabric of his shirt pucker and drape around his shoulders. Unbidden, an image of Cole in the same position flashed through her head, and she drew unflattering comparisons of her own. “She’s got a name, Jonas.”
“You’re still mad.” His voice was flat, slicing through the air. “Jesus, give it up already. I apologized.”
“Tell me about her mother. Your relationship. I don’t understand how you could have gone from whatever you had that made you want to have a child together, to this thing I have to witness every other weekend. Make me understand, Jonas.” He clearly wanted an end to the discussion, but it felt to Connie like she was getting somewhere and she wanted to know. How had he and Audrey gone from a couple who cared enough to conceive a child, to the nightmare scene she’d watched play out again and again?
“There’s nothing to tell.” His expression grew stony, lips pulled to the side in a suppressed sneer. “And that kid wasn’t planned. Not in a million years did I ever plan on a kid.”
Connie studied him intently for a moment, feeling the gulf between them widening with every breath. She glanced down the hallway, verifying the doorway to the spare bedroom was dark, which hopefully meant Addy was still asleep. More quietly, she said, “It takes two to make a baby. Even if she wasn’t the intended outcome, why do you bear the brunt of the blame? Why is the entire Stewart family set against you? What happened, Jonas?”
“Jesus, Connie, the last thing I want to do is talk about her with you. The condom broke, and here I am, mired in this thing.” He turned away, giving her his back. She watched as he paced away a few steps. “Why are you pushing this now?”
This is going to spiral intoan argument. A bad one. Worse than this. Connie shook herself and took a breath as she pushed her anger away.Time to hit pause. “I’m not. I’ll stop. It was a long dayandwe’re both tired. I’m heading home before one of us says something we’ll regret, Jonas. I truly hope you have a better day with Addy tomorrow.”
