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“It’s about Stephanie.”
“Are you two getting back together?” She might as well have asked if he was sacrificing animals on the weekend.
“No. Nope.” He shook his head. “No.”
She exhaled loudly, her hand dropping from her lips to her chest. “Oh.”
He furrowed his forehead. That’s how his family viewed Stephanie—as someone Tom should avoid. And why wouldn’t they? He’d bad-mouthed her enough after she left him. Not five minutes ago he’d smeared her past to his dad. He shouldn’t have. He’d worked hard to overcome the bitterness, to own up to his part in their botched relationship.
And the tenderness in Stephanie’s voice when she spoke of Macy, the way she’d tucked Macy’s hair behind her ear at McDonald’s, the fact she’d finally told him he had a daughter? It all tempted him to defend her. Which made no sense. One minute he was furious with her, and now he wanted to shield her?
“I found out—”
“Who’s ready to eat?” Aunt Sally and the rest of the family entered the cottage in their usual noisy fashion. His brother and roommate, Bryan, two years younger than him, then their baby sister, Libby, chattered behind her husband, Jake. His youngest brother, Sam, zoomed straight to the living room and claimed the remote. Claire glided over to her husband, Reed, when he came in. And last but not least, Uncle Joe heaved warmers of food into the kitchen. The large, open living room and kitchen had high ceilings, hardwood floors and comfortable furniture. Felt like home. When Granddad was alive, it practically was home.
Good a place as any to make an announcement. Macy would be part of their lives, too. This cottage, this family—she was part of the Sheffields, and he’d make sure she knew it.
Tom cleared his throat and raised his arms. Everyone turned to him. “Before we eat, I have something to tell you.”
“Can’t it wait until after Aunt Sally’s chicken?” Sam yelled from the couch.
Grinning, Aunt Sally waved her hand. “Let the boy talk.”
The boy. Tom had turned thirty-one this summer. Hardly a boy. His family continued to call him by his childhood nickname, Tommy, although he’d politely reminded them for years that his name was Tom.
“Go ahead, son.” Dad gave a firm nod.
Words chased each other around his brain. “I saw Stephanie earlier.”
“What? If you say you’re getting back together with her...” Libby popped a hand on her hip, her blond ponytail swishing in the process.
“No, I’m not getting back with her.” He glared at her. “She was in a car accident, and she came to the house. She told me...” He searched the sea of faces, full of questions, mostly encouraging, and his mouth went dry. His fingers curled around the edge of a dining chair. “I have a daughter.”
A collective gasp filled the air, then hung there until complete silence suffocated the room.
“A little girl?” Aunt Sally’s expression morphed from shocked to deliriously happy. “Did you hear that, everyone? We have a baby to spoil!”
Picking up on her cue, everyone murmured and nodded, although not nearly as enthusiastic as his aunt.
Dad clapped for silence. “I, for one, can’t wait to meet her.” He turned to face Tom. “We’ll do everything we can to support you and help out.”
His siblings rushed to him.
“When did you find out?” Bryan asked.
“A few hours ago,” Tom said.
“And you’re just accepting her word on this?” Bryan’s tone was accusing.
He drew his shoulders back. “If you have something to say, say it.”
“She ruined your life once, and what do you know? She’s found a way to ruin it again.”
“I don’t consider finding out I have a daughter to be ruining my life.”
Bryan shrugged. “Whatever, man. I’m trying to look out for you.”
“Congratulations.” Sam jostled between them. “I think.”
Libby bumped Sam to the side. “Are you kidding me? I am this close—” she held her finger and thumb a sliver away from each other “—to hunting Stephanie down and telling her what I think—”
“Libby.” Jake tugged on her arm. “Not the time or place.”
She clamped her mouth shut, eyelashes reaching to the ceiling. “Fine.”
Aunt Sally threw her arms around Tom. Then she stepped back and placed her hands on his cheeks, her dangling pumpkin earrings jingling as she grinned. “I’m thanking God extra tonight that He’s led you to your baby. What a blessing.”
The truth of her statement hit him like a kettlebell to the chest. “It is a blessing, isn’t it?”
“The circumstances are less than ideal. I know. I know.” She patted his cheek. “I’ve had bitter times. They can eat away at your soul. As hard as it might be, I hope you’ll try to focus on the positive. What’s the little sweetheart’s name?”
“Macy.”
“Macy,” she said, tears forming in her eyes. “What a pretty name. I’m going shopping tomorrow to buy her some outfits.” She drew her palms together. “I’ll just guess at the sizes.”
“She’s four and about this tall.” Tom held his hand above his knee. “If that helps.”
She winked. “It does.”
A yank on his arm got his attention. Claire. “Come on.” She pulled him out to the deck, where the sun had dropped to a glowing mound on the horizon.
Bryan followed them. “Is this a private conversation?” Attitude cut through each word.
Tom’s jaw tightened as he peered at Claire, concerned, then Bryan, livid. “Don’t act like a baby.” He stalked over to the deck rail and peered out at the darkening sky. “I don’t know what to do.”
The sliding door swooshed, and Libby and Sam joined them.
“Of all the rotten things she did to you, this is the worst. I’m shocked, but I shouldn’t be.” Libby drew herself to her full height and shook her head.
“Libby,” Claire warned.
“What?” She turned to Tom. “What if she’s trying to milk you for child support?”
“She didn’t even want me to know.”
“Oh, that’s so much better.”
“Shut up, Libby,” Bryan said.
“Tell us about your daughter.” Claire’s smile was encouraging.
Tom stretched his neck to one side, then the other. He might as well get the basics out of the way. “She’s four. Looks just like me. She’s smart, too. Maybe even a genius.”
“I can’t wait to meet her,” Claire said.
“Since no one else is willing to state the obvious, I will.” Libby jutted her chin out. “Why now? Why did Stephanie decide to tell you today? After all this time? I’ll tell you why. Money. Or babysitting. She’s going to start calling you nonstop, wanting you to watch the kid for her. And then she’ll want you back.”
Libby was wrong. Whatever Stephanie wanted wasn’t free babysitting or child support. But Libby did raise a good point. What were Stephanie’s expectations for him as a father? He wanted to spend time getting to know his daughter—gradually. His training schedule didn’t leave much room. After Christmas, he’d really have to kick it in gear with swimming at the Y and adding miles to his runs each week.
What was he thinking? No race was worth more than his daughter.
Slipping back into mediocrity already.
Not fair. Who said he couldn’t be a dad and have a life? He’d find a way to get to know Macy and train for the race.
“Stephanie wasn’t an ogre, Libby.” Claire steepled her fingers, keeping her tone even. “She made mistakes. We all do.”
“But her mistakes hurt Tommy.” Libby crossed her arms over her chest.
Tom held his hands up. “I don’t know why she finally told me.” The words weren’t easier to say this time. “The accident shook her up. It’s no secret we weren’t right for each other.” Or, rather, he wasn’t right for her. How many times had he replayed their relationship in his mind, trying to figure out how he could have done it all differently?
“That’s a bunch of baloney.” Libby shook her head. “Half the women in this county would rob the Snack-N-Go to have a shot at marrying you. She blew it.”
“I blew it, too, Libs.” It was the first time he’d admitted it out loud. Over the years, he’d accepted his responsibility in their divorce, but he’d never told anyone. Stephanie’s confession gave him the courage to make his own. “She wasn’t the only one to blame. You know the saying ‘It takes two’? In our case, it’s true.”
The breeze made a shushing noise in the trees, and Bryan moved to stand beside him. “What are you going to do now?”
Tom lifted one shoulder. “I don’t know.”
“You fighting for custody?” Bryan asked.
“I’m not going to walk away, if that’s what you’re asking. But I...don’t know.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Claire said. “You’ll be a terrific dad.”
“You know what this means,” Sam said. “You’ll be in Stephanie’s life again.”
Tom fought a wave of helplessness, the same feeling that kept gushing up when he thought about spending time with Macy. Sam was right. He wouldn’t be able to avoid Stephanie. Was he ready to be a part of her life again? Especially not as her husband? What if she was dating someone? He had limits, and being a bystander to his ex-wife’s love life went way beyond them. Seeing her again, being near her...messed with his resolve to protect his heart.
“Hey.” Claire placed her hand on his sleeve. “Don’t worry. I’m going to pray hard for you. I’m upset you’re finding out about Macy now, but you’re a dad. That’s good! I can’t wait to meet this little girl. I know she’ll be fabulous. She has our genes, right?”
He straightened, not knowing what to say. Dusk blanketed them, and lights across the lake popped on, reflecting thin beams zigzagging on the water. Each of his siblings’ faces turned to him with varying expressions. Claire, tender and concerned. Sam, indifferent. Libby, skeptical, and Bryan, fierce.
“Whatever you need,” Claire said. “We’re here for you.”
His phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked the number. Didn’t recognize it. “Hello?”
“Tom?” Stephanie’s voice rang through. “Do you think you could come over tomorrow?”
* * *
Tom pressed the intercom and shifted the enormous white stuffed rabbit complete with pink bow to his other arm. The old apartment complex a mile from campus didn’t exactly look seedy, but brown paint peeled from the exterior, bare spots riddled the patches of grass and potholes and cracks dismembered the pavement. He shifted his jaw. College students didn’t mill about—a relief—but the junky cars had him questioning the neighbors. Was his daughter safe living here? Was Stephanie?
The door buzzed, and he stepped inside. Soiled, worn indoor/outdoor carpet greeted him. A half flight of stairs stood at his right, a hallway with closed doors to his left. The scent of laundry detergent mingled with spices—foreign, curry? He climbed the stairs, turned, jogged up another set and landed on the third floor.
Stephanie ushered him inside. “Thanks for coming.” She dead-bolted the door behind him and nodded at the stuffed animal. “Macy will love this. Why don’t you have a seat?”
She waved to the small living room to his right. White walls, an old forest green couch, an upholstered rocking chair covered with a quilt and a bin of toys furnished the room. Lamps glowed, and the end tables held neat stacks of children’s books. Sheer curtains flanked a glass door leading to a balcony. Not luxurious but welcoming enough.
“Can I get you something to drink?” She flitted to the tiny kitchen and opened the fridge. Her jeans and slouchy lavender sweater made her appear younger, more beautiful than he remembered. Or was it her expression? The Stephanie who’d walked out on him rarely smiled, always nibbled on the corner of her lip and had a nervous air. This woman reminded him of the Steph he fell in love with.
Don’t go there. Focus on now. On Macy.
“Water would be good.” He set the bunny on the floor and lowered his tall frame onto the couch. “Where’s Macy?”
She returned with two glasses of ice water and set one on a coaster next to him before sitting in the rocking chair and tucking one foot under her body. “She’s still at day care. I wanted to talk to you in private.”
Warmth pooled through his core. She wanted to talk to him? In private? He straightened and shifted forward. “What about?”
A crease grew in her forehead. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Libby’s words sang in his mind, She’s going to start calling you nonstop. She’ll want you back. The thought wasn’t as unwelcome as it should be.
“I guess I thought...” She blinked twice. Enticing brown eyes. “You acted like you wanted to get to know Macy.”
His jaw relaxed. Dummy. Stephanie didn’t want him—still didn’t want him. “I do.”
“Of course.”
Was she disappointed? If yes, why had she invited him over?
She stood next to the balcony door, staring outside. “I don’t want Macy to be caught in our problems the way I was with Mom and her husbands.”
“Well, I’m not like them.”
“True.” She tapped her chin with her finger. “From my experience, though, lots of adults don’t think about their kids in these situations. They give in to their petty dramas, not caring who they hurt. I’d move mountains to protect Macy.”
“So I didn’t even get a chance?”
“We’ve been over this. Your parting words, the whiplash speed of the divorce papers and my own experience in a split home forced me to make a decision. The wrong one, obviously.”
Tom stared at a stain in the carpet. The night she left rushed back. He could still feel the blood churning in his veins. Tears streaked her face as she told him there was nothing between her and that guy, that she wasn’t cheating and would never cheat on him. But his vision had blurred and all he could see was her holding hands with the jerk. He’d lost all trust in her. Refused marriage counseling. Rushed to the lawyer for a divorce.
Hotheaded. Since then he’d worked hard to tame his impulsive side.
She picked at her sleeve. “I know what it’s like to be neglected by a parent who doesn’t want you.”
“You think I would neglect my own child?” he asked quietly.
