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understand how I feel. He was shot down on the street-not for robbery,
not for pa.s.sion. Just because of who and what he was. You're mine,
Emma. That makes you every bit as vulnerable."
"What about you?" she countered. "Every time you step out on stage,
you're exposed. It only takes one sick person among the thousands with
the price of a ticket. Do you think that never goes through my mind?"
He shook his head. "No, I didn't think it went through your mind. You
never said."
"Would it have made a difference?"
He was silent as he sat on the windowsill and took out a cigarette. "No.
You can't stop being what you are, Emma, even if you'd like to. But I've
lost one child." He struck a match, watched it flare. "I couldn't
survive losing another."
"I don't want to talk about Daffen." The old grief welled up, thickening
her voice.
"We're talking about you."
"All right then. I can't live for you anymore, or I'll hate you. I
gave you Saint Catherine's, Dad, and a year at a college I detested. I
have to start living for myself. That's what I'm doing here."
He drew in smoke and wished for a drink. "I almost think I'd rather you
hated me. You're all I've got."
"That's not true." She went to him then. Resentments and
disillusionments were crowded aside by love. "I've never been all, and
I never will be." She took his hand as she sat beside him. He was
beautiful to look at. Even without a daughter's prejudiced eye. The
years, the strains, the life, hadn't scarred him. Not on the outside.
Perhaps he was a bit too thin, but time hadn't lined his poetic face or
grayed his pale blond hair. What magic was it, she wondered, that had
caused
her to grow up while he hadn't grown older? She kept her hand over his
and chose her words carefully.
"But the trouble is, for most of my life, you're all I've had." Her
fingers tightened on his. "And just about all I've needed. I need more
now, Dad. All I want is a chance to find it."
He glanced around the room. "Here?"
"To start."
It was impossible to argue with something he understood so perfectly.
"Let me put in a security system."
"Emma," he interrupted, squeezing her hand. "I need my sleep."
She laughed a little and relaxed. "All right. I'll look at it as a
housewarming present." She kissed him. "Want to stay for dinner?"
He took another look around. It reminded him of his first place, though
that had only been a fraction of this s.p.a.ce. Still it brought back the
memories, lugging in old furniture, slopping paint on stained walls.
Making love with Bev on the floor.
"No." Suddenly he didn't want to be there, to feel the youth and the
hope and the innocence. "Why don't I take you and Marianne out?"
Marianne leaned dangerously over the stair rail. "Where?"
Brian grinned up at her. "Your choice."
ONCE HE WAS FORCED to accept Emma's decision, Brian played the indulgent
