Read Online Hold on My Heart by Tracy Brogan - Free Book Online Page A

get back to Rachel, please?”
    The fake smile was back. Dr. Brandt would make a very good mannequin with that blank look. “In order to help Rachel, I need to know where you are in your grieving process, too. So, let’s stick with this Libby a little longer. Have you dated anyone since Connie died?”
    He blinked from the strike of her question and became acutely aware of how his chest could feel hollow and yet full of cement at the same time. It was a sensation he’d lived with since the day they’d put his wife in the ground. He took a slug of water from the glass sitting on the table next to him, but it did nothing to ease the dryness in his throat.
    “I don’t want to date this woman, Dr. Brandt. You’re misunderstanding me. I’m annoyed because she dresses inappropriately for a job site and she’s going to get hurt. And since I’m the only one on this project who knows a hammer from a hole in my ass, I’m responsible for keeping people safe. Let’s move on.”
    Dr. Brandt folded her hands in her lap and regarded him as if he were an abstract painting at a gallery. “Let’s talk about your goals again. What is it you want to change about your relationship with Rachel?”
    The heaviness in his lungs lightened by an ounce. “I want to be a good father so she’ll move back in with me.”
    Her head tilted to the left. “What does a good father look like? How does he behave?”
    He wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but it seemed like the answer was obvious. “A good father is dependable. Trustworthy. Patient. Protective. I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
    “I’m asking you to describe what kind of relationship you want with your daughter.”
    “The normal kind, where she trusts me to take care of her.”
    “That’s the second time you’ve used the word
trust
. Do you think Rachel doesn’t trust you?”
    The cement in his lungs expanded and cracked. “I know she doesn’t. After the accident, when she needed me the most, I wasn’t there.”
    “Where were you?”
    It was always so goddamned stuffy in this office. He tugged at his collar, but it didn’t cool him down any.
    “Well, I was in the hospital for nearly four weeks. I missed Connie’s funeral because of that. But even when I came home, I was still… pretty fucked up.”
    She adjusted her glasses. “Define ‘pretty fucked up’ in your terms.”
    He kept his voice level though it felt as if the room might be tipping. “I’m pretty sure it means the same thing in my terms as it does in yours, Dr. Brandt. I spent about three months washing down painkillers with whiskey and trying to pretend Connie hadn’t died. By the time I got myself together, Rachel was settled in with her grandparents, and all three of them were convinced I was unfit as a parent. That’s why they’ve convinced Rachel she’s better off staying with them.”
    “Is she?”
    That was an arrow dead center in his chest. It stole his breath even though it was a question he asked himself daily. “Do
you
think she is?” he finally asked.
    Dr. Brandt’s long pause filled his veins with ice.
    “No, Tom, I think she’d be better off living with you. You are her father, and you’re not unfit, but the fact that you’re uncertain is something we need to work on. It’s natural for Connie’s parents to want to fill the void left by their daughter’s death, but they shouldn’t try to fill it with Rachel. And you shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting your daughter back.”
    He looked out the window again at the happy mommies at the park, bouncing their fat, smiling babies on their laps. Rachel had been a fat baby. A fat, happy baby. “I should have insisted she come home. But she’d started school for the year, and if she came to live with me she’d have to transfer.” His lungs felt full of ice water. “It felt selfish of me to make her go through another big change. Especially since this entire mess was my fault to begin with.”
    “Why would you