Before the Dawn by Kate Hewitt Read Free Book Online Page B

popcorn. He had loved me, even if he’d gone. I wasn’t going to throw it away because of own hurt.
    “Rob, wait.”  Tears trickled down my cheeks.  “I'm sorry, too.” 
    He turned, and there was a look of hope, even of love on his face. I don’t know who moved first, but suddenly we were hugging fiercely.
    It's taken awhile, of course, to come to terms with it all.  To heal, to trust, to love again. And it hasn't been an easy road.  But at last, now, I think we can begin to hope.  We can begin to be a whole family again.
    Today Rob is coming home from the hospital. A few weeks ago the doctors said it looked like the chemotherapy worked, and he's a free man.  For now. 
    Of course, there are no promises.  No guarantees. But there is forgiveness. There are second chances… if we take them. If we live them.
    I see the car pull in the drive and I watch as my mum and dad help Rob out of the car.  That's why I'm going to enjoy this moment, and every moment we have together, no matter how many or few there are, and I know Rob is too.
    He's here now.  That's all that matters. Smiling, I walk out the door to go and greet my brother.

DADDY’S GIRL
     
    “Daddy!”
    The giggling shriek causes me to turn my head.  A little red headed girl, about eight years old and wearing a duffle coat and wellies, is laughing, her head thrown back, as her father swings her around on the beach.  The one word--Daddy--is said in mock protest and deep delight, the sign of true affection, abiding love. Daddy.  What a wonderful word.
    Annabel never called me Daddy. 
    The fresh sea air buffets my face, making me pull my coat tighter around me.  Although it is a brisk day in February, the promenade is surprisingly crowded, the beach full of families, children bundled up in coats and scarves, dogs racing madly across the cold, wet sand. 
    I’m not sure why I agreed to meet Annabel here, except it reminds me of the summer days we used to come here together, just her and me, to share drippy ice creams and paddle in the waves.  Like father and daughter... or so I believed.
    It was here that I met Tracey. I’d always thought I was a confirmed bachelor, until Annabel stumbled on the promenade and pitched a strawberry ice cream onto my shirt.
    “Oh, heavens! Annabel!”  Tracey looked at me in horror as she clasped Annabel’s shoulders.  Annabel stared at me with the guarded curiosity of a shy nine year old before she realized she no longer had any ice cream on her cone.
    “My icecream!” She looked ready to burst into tears.
    “Never mind,”  I said, breaking into a smile.  “I’ll buy you another one.”
    “You don’t--”  Tracey stopped whatever protest she was going to make.  Our eyes met over Annabel’s tousled head, and something flickered to life inside me.  It was as if, at that moment, I chose to take on a role I had never envisioned for myself.... a father.
    We spent the rest of the afternoon together, and as twilight crept onto the beach, Tracey and I made plans to see each other again. 
    “I’m sorry about your shirt,” she said with a wry grin.
    “I’m not.”  I smiled back.  “Look what happened because of it.”
    Our courtship was whirlwind and chaotic, conducted with Annabel as our chaperone of sorts.  Dates were dinners for three at the local pizza place, or walks in the park to feed the ducks.  The few private moments we had were precious, snatched during lunch hours when Annabel was at school, or at night after she was asleep. 
    I remember when Tracey and I were enjoying a romantic moment on her settee, and Annabel crept down the stairs, teddy bear in hand.
    “Mummy, I’m thirsty... what are you doing?!”  Her shriek caused us to spring apart like guilty teenagers.  She wrinkled her nose in deepest disgust.  “You two were kissing.”
    I worried that Annabel wouldn’t accept me.  Annabel’s father had walked out on her and Tracey when she was a baby.  It infuriated me, but it