Chapter Fifteen
After their conversation on the way to the school, Robyn expected an easing of tensions between herself and Sam. Though she was fully assured that he wasn't overly concerned about her walking in on him -- even if she cringed every time she thought of it -- something else remained and continued to increase as they entered the school grounds.
They went through the motions of arranging for her to get Bethany after school every day and headed back home. It wasn't until Beth was in the vehicle with them that she noticed that the same tension existed between father and daughter. That was when she began to worry. They had such a close relationship. She wasn't sure how to proceed under the circumstances.
The sense that things weren't quite right continued as they entered the house. Robyn moved into the kitchen and placed her purse on a shelf beneath the microwave cart. Beth lingered by the door, while Sam headed directly for the kitchen and began to gather the papers that had been left on the table. His movements were rushed as if he was in a hurry.
"I have to go back to work, Beth and I won't be home until late. Robyn is going to stay here with you." His eyes briefly lit on her before he turned and looked over his shoulder at his daughter. Robyn caught the slight tensing in his shoulders as his gaze settled on the little girl. She looked beyond him into the wide sad eyes as the child looked up at her father. Those watery blue depths, so like his, spoke volumes and filled with hurt before she nodded and turned away.
Swallowing away her own heart break, and feeling like something of a voyeur Robyn looked back toward Sam. Though he was faced away from her, she could tell that he was equally affected. His shoulders slumped and he abandoned the papers on the table.
"Beth." He called to the little girl, halting her movement toward the stairs. She paused and turned back toward him. He approached and moved down to her level. "Honey, I know we need to talk about what happened last night. And I promise that we will."
"Just not right now?" Beth asked softly.
"I'm sorry," Sam nodded in the affirmative. "But not right now. We will talk tomorrow, though. I promise."
"You'll be careful until tomorrow?" she asked, her expression showing a kind of worry that was much too grown up for a little girl.
"I'll be careful," he assured her. Then with a smile, "I'll be the most carefulest daddy in the world."
"That's not a word, Daddy," she chided him and rolled her eyes slightly. Then they both smiled at each other.
"Okay Ms. Smarty-pants. I guess you got so smart and beautiful by always doing your homework, huh?"
Beth sighed and heavy, longsuffering sigh. "Okay. I get the picture. I'm doing it." Then with exaggerated suffering she trumped her way upstairs to her room.
Sam remained at floor level for several more moments before moving to his feet. He turned back toward the kitchen, his gaze never meeting Robyn's. Robyn waited for several moments as he re-gathered his papers, hoping that something would be forthcoming. Nothing. As he seemed to be completing his task and heading for the door, she spoke.
"Are you going to tell me what's going on? Or do I get to wait for tomorrow, too?"
He hung his head for a moment before turning. "Robyn, I'm really too tired for this right now. Please can it wait?"
Robyn was taken aback slightly. "Sam, I'm not here to hassle you. I'm here to help. If there are any additional dangers, I need to know about them."
"You're here to help my daughter, and this has nothing to do with her."
"I'm here to help you, and you have everything to do with her. Didn't you just hear what she said to you? She's worried. If she's worried, there's a problem."
"This doesn't concern you," Sam replied. "This is personal."
Robyn wouldn't be moved. "Does it involve your safety?"
Sam hesitated a moment too long before he answered. "No."
Robyn crossed her arms. "Why don't I believe you?"
"Now you're calling me a liar. Thanks. It's a business matter. Your area of service is limited to my home. That is your job. My business is my job."
Robyn knew that Sam was getting upset. She was too. But she wasn't sure why her reaction was so strong. She had dealt with difficult clients before and had always remained professional. And though she knew she shouldn't, she couldn't resist pushing him just a little farther.
"So which is it Sam? Is it personal or is it business? And I thought we were beyond your putting up all of these walls? How can I do my job, how can I help you or Bethany if you won't talk to me?"
"Because it's my personal business, dammit!" he exploded. "I don't need to clear my decisions through you. Limit your job to Bethany and I would thank you to stay out of everything else." With that he turned on his heel and stalked out of the house.
Robyn remained in the kitchen, unmoving. She heard the slamming of the door of the truck and of the vehicle being pulled angrily out of the driveway. Had she pushed too hard this time? Why did she care so much about these two? Why couldn't see separate the personal from the professional?
The sound of soft footsteps creeping along the steps brought her back to herself.
"Did you and Daddy have an argument?" Beth asked. Her serious, knowing gaze tore at Robyn's heart.
"Yes, we did have a bit of a disagreement, Sweetie. But it's nothing for you to worry about. Sometimes adults get a little loud when they discuss things. Especially when those things are very important to them."
"Oh." She sighed and looked down. "Are you going to stop coming?"
Robyn didn't know how to answer that. Eventually she would have to stop picking the child up from school. Her contract was up in just over a week.
"No matter what happens, you and I will always be friends," she assured the girl. "We can talk on the phone and I'll come see you. And we can ask your Dad and maybe he'll let us go off and do girl stuff together."
Beth's face brightened into a smile and then she laughed. "That'll be fun. Daddy's have no idea how to do girl stuff."
Robyn laughed back and tweaked her nose. "You're telling me? Wait till you hear what my dad did when I was your age . . ."