Help Me Heal

Chapter 19

The next morning, much as he would have liked to, Hank hadn't stayed for breakfast at Kalinda's place. She had joked about that being a good thing because she had nothing to feed him anyway.

Returning home, Hank didn't have much time to quickly eat something and get ready for work. The first thing he noted upon entering the house was the smell of coffee. For that reason, he headed straight for the kitchen. Sure enough, Erin was there at the table, drinking coffee and eating toast.

"Hey," she said with a knowing smile. "Good night?"

"It was. Listen, Erin, I've not got long but there's something important I want to say to you."

"Alright," she said warily, putting her cup down on the table as if bracing herself.

"I've not been the best father to you. In fact before you moved to New York we had ended up more like boss and employee than father and daughter. I want to do better. I want us both to do better. It would be nice if I could... be a father to you," he said awkwardly. He wasn't happy with the way he had concluded. This kind of conversation felt foreign to him. There was more he had wanted to say too. The words simply hadn't come to him.

Erin looked surprised, in a good way. "I'd like that too. A lot. Things seemed to get broken when Camille passed, and they never recovered. As you said, we could both do better. It means a lot to me that you still want to... well, you know."

Hank understood her awkwardness. Erin had never called him dad. He had never called her his daughter. Maybe that was something that should change too? One thing at a time, he told himself.

"I've got to get ready for work, Erin. Dinner tonight?"

She smiled. "I'd like that. Will you invite Kalinda?"

"No. Just you and me would be nice. Besides, she'll be busy cleaning her apartment." His plan was to tell Erin over dinner that he was going to offer her the job with Intelligence. Having left it a few days since their argument over it, he felt a little less sore about losing face.

Erin raised an eyebrow. "You know you could hep her with that?"

"Somehow dinner with you sounds more appealing than cleaning."

She laughed. "Alright then, I'll make something. Steak?"

"That'll work. I've got to go change."

"I'll fix you some toast and a coffee while you do that. You can have breakfast before you leave." To Hank her tone sounded more like his mother than his daughter, but he recognised that her heart was in the right place. She was trying. That was what it was going to take from both of them in order to rebuild their relationship.

"Thank you," he said on his way out of the kitchen.

Ten minutes later, Hank had taken a wash and changed his clothes ready for work. Returning to the kitchen, he found the promised coffee and toast waiting for him.

"There you are," Erin said. "Have a good day. I'm going to take my shower."

"Erin," he said, stopping her before she reached the doorway. She turned to look at him. "When Camille died, I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry for that." It was hard to say, very hard, but he meant it sincerely.

Erin continued to look at him for a moment, seeming unsure how to react. Eventually she gave him a small nod of acknowledgement and hurried away. Hank had hoped for more than that. He supposed she had found it tough to process what he had said.

After rushing the toast and chugging down the coffee, Hank headed out to work feeling pretty good about himself, and about life in general. That was something he figured he could get used to if given the chance.