Timepiece by Evans Richard Paul

Author:Evans, Richard Paul [Evans, Richard Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Inspirational, Historical, Age Range 2 Older Audience, Romance, Adult
ISBN: 9781439130773
Amazon: 1439130779
Goodreads: 15803829
Publisher: Simon Schuster
Published: 1995-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

“It would seem that my Andrea is growing so quickly, as if time were advancing at an unnatural pace. At times I wish it were within my power to reach forth my hand and stop the moment—but in this I err. To hold the note is to spoil the song.”

David Parkin’s Diary. October 12, 1911

Two months before Andrea’s third birthday, the cradle was taken up to the attic and an infant bed was brought in its place. The new bed was exciting to the small girl and represented freedom, which, to a child, is a poor requisite for sleep. David and MaryAnne found that it took more time to put her down each night.

One night, David finished reading a second story to Andrea, then, thinking himself successful in lulling her to sleep, leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

“Good night,” he whispered.

Andrea’s eyes popped open. “Papa. You know what?”

David smiled in wonder at the child’s persistence. “What?”

“The trees are my friends.”

David grinned at the sudden observation. “Really?” He pulled the sheet up under her chin. “How do you know this?”

“They waved to me . . .”

David smiled.

“. . . and I waved back.”

David’s smile broadened. He was astonished at the purity of the child’s thought. “Andrea, do you know why I love you so much?”

“Yes,” she replied.

“Why?” he asked, genuinely surprised that she had an explanation.

“Because I’m yours.”

Strangely, Andrea’s reply inflicted him with a sharp pang of dread. He forced a smile. “And you are right. Good night, little one.”

“Good night, Papa,” she replied sleepily and rolled over.

David did not return to his bedroom but retreated to the seclusion of the drawing room to think. After an hour, MaryAnne, dressed in her nightclothes, came for him. She quietly peered in. David sat in a richly brocaded green-and-gold chair. Several books lay next to him, though none was open. His head was bowed, resting in the palm of one hand. MaryAnne entered.

“David? Is business troubling you?”

He raised his head.

“No.” His voice was laced with melancholy. “I have just been wondering.”

MaryAnne came behind his chair and leaned over it, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“What have you been wondering, my love?”

“Shall we ever tell her?”

“Tell her?”

“That I am not her real father.”

MaryAnne frowned. She came around and sat on the upholstered footstool before him. “You are her real father.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m not. And I feel dishonest, as if I were hiding something from her.”

“David, it isn’t important.”

“But shouldn’t she be allowed the truth? I feel as if I am living a lie.”

“Then it is the lesser of a much greater one.”

“What is that?”

“Society’s lie. The lie that claims that simply impregnating a woman makes a man a father.” Her eyes glazed in loathsome recall. “The man who lay with me is not a father. He is not even a real man. I wonder that he is a member of our species.”

David sat still, quietly weighing the intent of her words. “Have you seen him? Since our engagement?”

MaryAnne wondered why he had asked the question, but could not discern from his expression.

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