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“Remember the last thing you said to me?” Stephanie said softly. A flash of recognition crossed his face. She rose, setting her hand on the back of the couch to steady herself. “You said, ‘At least we didn’t have kids.’”
“I said a lot of stupid things that night. You should have told me you were pregnant.”
“I didn’t know I was pregnant then, and you served me with divorce papers the next week.” Stephanie trailed her finger over the leather. “But you’re right. I should have told you as soon as I found out. I was scared. Ashamed. I’d messed up our marriage. And I didn’t want to trap you into staying with me.”
If she could go back, be the person she was now instead of the insecure girl who married him... But she couldn’t. And it didn’t excuse him, either. His constant hours away had made it clear his job was number one. Macy deserved better than to be ignored.
“Not good enough.” The clipped words proved how much this was costing him. “Not when we’re talking about another life.”
“I know.” She tamped down the words battling to come out. His pale eyes held her captive, dared her to tell him the truth. What was the truth? “I told myself you’d moved on, so why disrupt your life? For all I knew, you could have gotten remarried, started your own family. You’d resent me barging into your world. But I know I was selfish.” Standing in front of him now, she could see how selfish she was.
“You’re telling me I have a daughter. A daughter.” He thrust his hand through his dark hair, his face haunted. “And I’m supposed to take your word about all this?”
Now that question she’d been expecting. She fumbled for her purse. “I have a picture.”
“Why are you doing this? Why now?”
“Because you deserve to know. You’ve always deserved to know, and Macy does, too. I can’t live with the guilt anymore. I’m sorry.” She swiped her phone and opened the photos to Macy’s smiling face. God, whatever happens here, don’t let it hurt my precious girl. She held it out to him. “Here. See for yourself.”
He didn’t accept it, but the pulse in his cheek throbbed—he clearly wrestled emotions. It wasn’t as if she’d fooled herself into thinking this meeting would be easy, but the reality of it? Brutal.
“Just look at the picture,” she said. “Take it.”
He took it from her hand. He blinked twice, his face relaxing. Then he snapped his attention to her. “She...”
Please let him see the obvious.
“My eyes...” He held it closer, peering at it. “She’s beautiful.”
“She is. She has your eyebrows, too. And your lips. She’s all yours.”
“Macy.” He traced his finger around the screen. He glanced up, recognition pushing the stress off his face. “Mine. I have a daughter.”
Out of all the scenarios she’d considered, she’d never allowed herself to hope he’d be happy. The full weight of what she’d done, what she had kept from him—how much she’d taken from him—slammed into her. Another thing she’d feel guilty about the rest of her life.
Tom handed her the phone, then wiped his hand over his face. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Ask me anything.” She propped her hands on the back of the couch for support.
“Do you still live in Petoskey?”
“No. I moved to Kalamazoo last year to finish college.” With a semester and a half left of her undergraduate program in accounting, Stephanie could practically taste success. In less than three years, she’d be a successful CPA. A role model. Someone Macy could be proud of. All the struggles she’d been through would be worth it to give Macy a better life.
“So you’re telling me you’ve lived half an hour away and it just occurred to you now to tell me I have a daughter?” He pushed his sleeves up.
“It’s occurred to me every day since I saw two lines on the pregnancy test.” Her ribs ached, but she didn’t dare sit again.
“I can’t believe this.” His voice broke, and his strained face tore her up inside.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry our child has lived without a father her whole life. Or...wait. Let me guess. She hasn’t lived without a father, has she?”
Stephanie couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. The accusation cut, but he had every right to say that to her. Every right. The clock on the wall ticked as she tried to figure out a reply.
“There hasn’t been a man in my life since our divorce. Until last year Macy and I lived with Dad, but he moved to Miami when I went back to school.” Her energy dissolved, and she fought to stay upright.
“I want to see her.” He stood, wide-legged, a fist on each hip.
“Okay, we can figure—”
“I want to see her now.”
“But she—”
“I want to see my daughter today.”
Stephanie’s mind swirled. “She’s in day care for another hour, but, Tom, she doesn’t know any of this.”
“Well, that makes two of us. It’s about time she does.”
“I agree she needs to know. It’s one of the reasons I’m here today. She’s been all over me about daddies and sisters and brothers. I told her she would meet her father when the time was right, and she accepted it. But she’s young. Producing a dad out of the blue... Well, I don’t want to traumatize her.”
“Kind of like when I saw you holding hands with another guy when you told me you were shopping with Tiffany?”
“I crossed a line, but I never cheated on you, Tom.” Her throat burned. Of course he’d throw that in her face. “I don’t want to introduce you to her as her father unless you plan on being a permanent part of her life. She’s not someone you can blow off for work. And you wonder why I didn’t tell you. You hate me.”
“I don’t.” His posture relaxed a fraction.
Did regret shine in his eyes? She doubted it. Telling him about Macy had thrown them right where they’d left off—unable to be together in the same room. Did she dare add their daughter to this unstable mix?
“I just want to see my child.” His tone sounded reasonable.
“I understand. But I’m not freaking her out by springing a dad on her today. The accident yesterday was bad enough.”
“Was she hurt? Is she okay?”
“She has a sprained wrist. Nothing a sling and time won’t heal.” She sighed. She’d gone over all the possibilities, knew there was a chance he’d demand to see Macy right away. Knew, too, he might refuse to allow Macy in his life. What if he met her and decided being a dad wasn’t for him? Stephanie fought back a groan. She owed him the right to make the decision. “Why don’t you meet us at McDonald’s in an hour and a half? We can say you’re an old friend of mine.”
“I’m not lying to her.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t want to lie to her, either, but do we have to tell her tonight?”
“Fine.” His shoulders dropped. “We’ll do it your way. For now.”
* * *
From the front seat of his truck, Tom glimpsed the golden arches. A hundred years had passed since Stephanie left an hour and a half ago. Seeing her on his porch had brought back all of it—the day they’d met, how quickly he’d fallen in love with her, their short engagement, their shorter marriage.
He hadn’t been enough for her.
Only Stephanie could manage to throw his life off course when he’d finally found a way to get it back on track.
This morning he’d been checking invoices, calling his assistant managers and planning his training session for the day. Forty-two weeks left plenty of time to build strength and endurance for his first IRONMAN competition. And nothing would stop him from finishing in less than twelve hours. The average competitor finished in twelve and a half.
He was done being average.
Signing up for the triathlon had given his life meaning again. Something to strive for. Something to feel proud of.
But this...a child...changed everything.
He closed his eyes. Emotions drained him empty like at the end of a tough workout. And now he had to walk in there and meet his daughter without letting her know who he was. He’d almost called his sister Claire earlier. She knew how to handle these situations. She’d be able to tell him if Stephanie was being reasonable or manipulative. But if he called Claire, he’d have to explain...and he was not ready to tell anyone in his large family he was a father. He might not ever be ready.
God, help me out here? I don’t know what to say. I’ve barely been around kids, and now I’m meeting mine for the first time. What if I mess up? What if I scare her? Maybe Stephanie was right not to tell Macy I’m her dad yet.
Another minute ticked by before he got the nerve to hop out of his truck. Shoving his keys into the pocket of his jeans, he straightened his long-sleeved black T-shirt. He could do this, meet Macy without intimidating her.
Inside, he scanned the busy restaurant to find Stephanie. Typical fast-food sounds surrounded him—the beeps of the registers, the muted chatter of customers waiting in line and the occasional shout of a kid. The place smelled like French fries. His heartbeat paused at the sight of Stephanie sitting next to the little girl with dark brown waves flowing down her back. The child didn’t look up until he stopped at their table.
“Thanks for joining us.” Stephanie’s tone was pleasant, assertive, but she couldn’t mask the uncertainty in her eyes. “Macy, this is an old friend of mine, Tom.”
The girl’s tiny face with creamy skin and raspberry lips stole his breath. Even prettier than her picture. Her faded-blue-jean eyes matched his exactly. It took everything in him not to swoop her up and crush her to him. He knew in an instant he would do anything—anything—for this little girl.
“Hi, Macy. How’s your arm?” He gestured to the black sling and sat across from her at the table. His knee bounced triple time.
“It doesn’t hurt. I don’t need this anymore.” She started ripping the Velcro from her sling, but Stephanie placed her hand over it.
“The doctor said you have to wear it for a few weeks.”
Macy pushed her bottom lip out. “It’s ’noying, Mama.”
“I know. But it’s there for your wrist to heal.”
She grimaced, dunking a chicken nugget into barbecue sauce before taking a nibble. Stephanie’s gaze darted here and there like a wild rabbit’s, and the silence stretched to uncomfortable proportions.
What now? He had no idea what to say to either of them. Didn’t have much experience with kids. Or ex-wives. If he had known—
He could have what? Prepared? Yeah, right.
“Did you want something to eat?” Stephanie’s smile was tight around the edges.
The bruises couldn’t hide her delicate bone structure, the rich brown of her eyes. Her hair was a little shorter than he remembered, but just as dark and shiny. He’d been so caught up in the revelation of having a daughter, he’d barely registered Stephanie until this moment.
“Uh.” He hadn’t eaten since lunch, but he wasn’t hungry, either. “I’m not sure.”
Macy cupped her hand around her mouth as she whispered loudly to Stephanie. “Why is he here if he’s not eating?” Stephanie gave him a pointed look.
What an idiot. Here he was, a strange guy showing up at their meal and not ordering anything. Even a kid knew it was fishy. No wonder Stephanie worried.
“Maybe I’ll get a salad.” He rapped his knuckles on the table.
“Are you sure about that, mister?” Macy frowned. “Salad has lettuce and tomatoes in it. My grandpa always gets a cheeseburger when he comes here.”
He grinned. “I like cheeseburgers and fries, too, but I have to eat healthy.”
“Why?”
“I’m training for a triathlon.”
She munched on a fry. “What’s a...tri...what’d you call it?”
“A triathlon. It’s called the IRONMAN competition.”
“Noah has an Iron Man backpack. Do you get a red suit, too?” Her hopeful expression made him want to tell her yes, he’d be the real Iron Man when he crossed the finish line. But he shook his head.
“No, it’s not that kind of Iron Man. It’s where a bunch of people swim, ride their bikes and run. It’s a race.”
“I have to use training wheels. Tatum has pink sparkly streamers on her bike, but mine doesn’t have any.” The pitiful look she gave her mother almost made Tom chuckle. Cute. He could get used to her matter-of-fact tone and still-developing pronunciation. No, he would get used to it.
“You’re blessed to have a bike at all, Macy.” Stephanie pointed to the Happy Meal. “Keep eating those nuggets.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Do you like swimming, Macy? I live right next to a big lake. My brothers and dad and I go fishing all summer.”
Stephanie’s wary glance speared him, but he kept his attention on Macy.
“My grandpa and I make sand castles at the beach. But Mommy and I moved to a ’partment.” She sipped her chocolate milk. “I’m going to tell Noah about the race. He takes swim lessons, but he’s too scared to jump off the board. Do you think if he jumps in the pool, he could be the Iron Man, too?”
Tom nodded. “Sure. When he gets older. Anyone who finishes the race is an Iron Man.”
“You silly pants, there’s only one.” She wiggled her finger, and her face lit up.
Stephanie ran her hand over Macy’s hair. “The IRONMAN Tom’s talking about isn’t what you’re thinking.”
Best to let Stephanie explain. He went to the register, waited for the salad, then slid back into his seat.
“I’m going to kin-dee-garden when I’m five.” She held out five splayed fingers with her free hand.
“Wow, kindergarten.”
Macy continued, “I can count real high.”
“How high?” He tore the packet of dressing open and watched her out of the corner of his eye.
“Real high. One, two, three...”
When she got to forty-five, Stephanie touched her arm. “Okay, we got it. You’re a good counter.”
