Morgan walked into the Onion restaurant on shaky legs. She couldn’t remember the last time her nerves had been so frazzled. Tonight had been a long time coming. She cared so very much about bridging the gap between her and her father. The pain of their estrangement had always weighed so heavily on her heart. She looked down at her red shift dress and nude heels. She hoped she looked as pretty as she felt.
“Miss, may I help you?” the hostess asked with a smile.
“I’m meeting my father here. Roderick Lucas.” She almost could
n’t believe the words tumbling out of her mouth. It felt surreal to be meeting her father for dinner.
“Right this way,” the hostess said. Morgan followed after the hostess as she led her to an intimate table right by the window. Morgan smiled. Whenever they’d come here, he’d always requested a table with a view of Savannah.
“Morgan!” Her father stood up from the table and gave her a tight hug. He pulled out her chair for her and she sat down, thankful for his attentiveness.
The hostess placed a menu by her plate and retreated.
“You look lovely tonight, although that’s nothing new. You’ve always been beautiful,” he raved, his handsome face lit up with happiness.
“Thank you. You look pretty dapper yourself.” In his dark suit and emerald green tie, Roderick Lucas looked polished and handsome. Morgan smiled so hard she thought her cheeks might break. She couldn’t think of the last time her father had complimented her.
It felt so good. Piece by piece he was chipping away at the armor she’d built around her heart. By word and deed he was showing her that he did care for her as a father should. She wasn’t one to hold grudges. She knew that human beings made mistakes. Her father, like most people, was a flawed individual. But she loved him. Even when she hadn’t wanted to, her heart had always loved him. Yearned for him. Needed him in her life.
Conversation flowed easily between them, and by the time their entrees arrived—grilled salmon with polenta for her and chateaubriand with roasted legumes for her father—her nervousness had disappeared. They fell into old rhythms with each other—talking, laughing and reminiscing. For dessert they decided to split a piece of three-layer chocolate cake. Morgan almost felt as if she’d slipped back into childhood. Sharing cake with him on her birthdays had always been a huge deal. He’d always allowed her to have the bigger portion.
God was good. He’d brought her father back into her life and given her this wonderful evening full of love, light and joy.
“Morgan, there’s something I need to discuss with you.” All the joy seemed to have vanished from her father’s face. His expression was somber. All of a sudden the mood changed from upbeat to serious.
“Sure thing. What is it? What’s wrong?” Suddenly she felt herself catapulted back to the moment she’d been told about the impending divorce of her parents. Inexplicably, she’d blamed herself. If she’d been better, smarter, more well-behaved then maybe they would have wanted to stay together.
“Did I do something?” she blurted out, wanting to kick herself for asking such a foolish question. She wasn’t ten years old anymore. She was an adult.
“Of course not. You’re a terrific young woman. Which brings me to the matter at hand. I didn’t just happen to be traveling through Savannah like I told you.”
“No?” Her stomach dipped and she felt a squeezing sensation low in her belly. Suddenly, she was waiting for whatever was going to come out of her father’s mouth. And some instinct told her it wasn’t going to be good.
She felt as if everything went hazy. His words sounded like she was hearing it in a wind tunnel. Blood rushed in her ears.
“Your sister Maribel. She has leukemia. That’s where you come in. God willing, you might be a match. If you get tested and if you’re a match, donating bone marrow could save her life.”
Maribel. She’d met her once, maybe twice in twelve years. She was a beautiful little girl with curly long hair and dimples. Sometimes Morgan forgot she even had a sister, that’s how infrequently she’d seen her.
Her father’s lips were still moving, but she could no longer hear his words. Bile rose up in her throat. She was going to be sick!
She stood up from the table, her jerky movements causing her water glass to tumble over. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered at this moment other than getting away from him as fast as possible. She’d dared to dream that this moment was about her. About making amends. About finally treating her as a beloved daughter. And it had been about nothing more than a means to an end—helping his real daughter.
She heard the hostess asking her if she felt all right, but she kept walking, pushing her way past the glass doors and out into the balmy night. She took deep breaths of the cool air, knowing she had to calm down before she got behind the wheel and drove home.
“Morgan! Stop! Please. Where are you going?” her father called out after her.
She ignored him, walking at a fast clip toward her car. Right as she reached it, she felt a strong grip on her arm. She whirled around, wrenching her arm away from him.
He held up his hands. “Please hear me out. This is far from ideal and I may have handled things badly, but the situation is critical.”
She glared at him, not trusting herself to speak. At this point, what did it matter? Words meant nothing to a man who had abandoned and neglected her for most of her life.
“Morgan, please say something. I’m begging you,” he pleaded.
“I’m mad at you!” she blurted out. “You’ve done nothing but disappoint me…wound me. Hurt me. If I stay here one more minute, I don’t know what I’ll do. I was willing to forgive everything when you showed up because I have this hole inside of me that I thought you could fill up. Instead, you only want to use me as a cure for my half-sister.”
His brown eyes—the same color as her own—flickered with emotion. “I understand, Morgan. I really do.”