Читать книгу Unexpected Family - Jill Kemerer - Страница 10
ОглавлениеStephanie made it home without the expected questions about Tom, mainly by distracting Macy with a Disney CD. Nothing like princesses singing movie tunes to buy a little quiet time. As first meetings went, Stephanie would give tonight five stars. No awkward questions, no heated words, just a man and a little girl getting to know each other. She’d made the right decision to tell Tom about Macy.
After giving Macy a quick bath and getting her into her turtle pajamas, Stephanie sat next to her on the couch and drew a soft purple throw over them both.
“How’s my kitten?” She pulled Macy into her arms.
“I’m not a kitty.” Macy giggled, snuggling closer.
“You’re not? But you’re cute as a kitten. And you purr, right?”
“Prrr...” Macy pretended to lick the back of her hand.
Stephanie’s mind wandered. Seeing Tom brought it all back—how much she’d admired him when she was a twenty-year-old college student. How amazed she’d been that gorgeous, could-have-any-girl Tom Sheffield even noticed her. Twenty-five and with a business degree had made him more alluring. He’d made her feel special, pretty, like someone better than ordinary old her. Six months later when they got married, he promptly quit his dead-end job to join the family business. She soon learned work always came first.
“Is Tom your boyfriend?” Macy curled their fingers together.
The questions had begun. Stephanie stroked Macy’s hair and inhaled the scent of fruity shampoo, so innocent and sweet. “No, no, nothing like that. We were friends a long time ago. He heard we were in an accident and wanted to make sure we were okay.”
“Oh. Why didn’t Grandpa come?”
“Grandpa didn’t know. Remember, he’s in Florida now.”
“I miss him. Let’s go see him.”
“That’s the plan, toots. Less than a year and we’ll be living with Grandpa again. We can go to the beach every day. No snow. No cold. Just sunshine.”
“Yay! I can’t wait to live with Grandpa again.”
“I know. I can’t, either.” As soon as she finished her degree, she and Macy were moving back in with her dad. They’d lived with him in Petoskey until last year when he retired and bought a condo in Miami. She and Macy almost joined him, but Western University offered her a full scholarship only available to single mothers, and the University of Miami wouldn’t give her any financial aid.
Dad had offered to pay, but he couldn’t afford expensive tuition on his fixed income. Besides, Stephanie had foolishly thought she needed to be independent, that it would be good for her to raise Macy on her own.
She hadn’t realized how difficult it would be.
Things would be easier in Miami. She could build a nice life there. Dad would help watch Macy while she worked toward her master’s degree.
Except she’d made the plans before she’d factored Tom into her future...
Macy yawned, and Stephanie hummed. Maybe Macy would fall asleep early. Stacks of folders, books and binders waited on the dining table.
She was tired of homework. And the rush, rush of each day. Get up, shower, slap some makeup on, get Macy dressed, throw a bagel in the toaster, race to day care, then to work. Classes three afternoons. Pick Macy up, stop at the store and spend fifteen minutes trying to figure out dinner, read a picture book, homework, guilt trip about not playing dolls and pass out in bed.
Stephanie closed her eyes a moment. Her life hadn’t always been this hectic. The first months of marriage had been downright leisurely. She’d quit college right after getting engaged. With no real career goals and a low GPA from dropped classes, there didn’t seem to be much point. And she’d had Tom to provide for her.
Ambitious. Driven.
But he’d been tender, protective and...
Absent.
No. No. No.
Pointless to entertain these feelings. Better to focus on the present.
Macy’s breaths came in even intervals, so Stephanie carried her to the bedroom, tucked her in and plodded back to the dining room. Her ribs started aching again.
What to tackle first? The spreadsheet or the research paper? She pressed her fingers against her side, pulled a chair out, propped her elbows on the table and let her chin fall to her cradled hands. Who could focus on a stupid report after seeing him? The man she’d loved, the one she’d vowed to spend the rest of her life with. For better or for worse.
She’d been such a fool at twenty-one. If she had poured her energy into Tom instead of—well, she didn’t want to think about it—maybe she wouldn’t have had to spend the previous years alone, broke and exhausted.
But then there was the God factor. Maybe being at her lowest had finally allowed her to put her hope in Him. How many times had she read in Romans that God works for the good of those who love Him? And how many times did she have to remind herself she didn’t have to earn His goodness? It was there for her simply because she trusted in Jesus as her Savior.
With the Lord’s help, she’d create a future worthy of Macy.
Now that Tom was in the picture, how would their lives be affected? She hadn’t been sure he’d want to be a father—a real father—to Macy. But he obviously did. Could she count on him to be involved in Macy’s life, or would he come and go as it suited him?
He’d stood Stephanie up for countless dates during their brief marriage. How many meals had she eaten alone? When she married Tom, she’d never guessed he’d treat her the way her own mother did—unimportant. An accessory to his life.
It hurt. She squeezed her eyes shut. Still hurt.
If Tom wanted to be a father, he’d better commit all the way. If he broke Macy’s heart...
She was getting ahead of herself. She didn’t know his plans. Besides, Macy deserved to know who her dad was. But how should they break the news to her? And when?
* * *
“What do you mean you have a daughter?” Dad stopped pacing and spun to face Tom.
“What I said. I have a daughter.” Tom extended his arm across the back of the tan couch. He’d called Dad and driven straight to Granddad’s cottage from McDonald’s. “Imagine how I felt coming home from my run and finding Stephanie, all bruised up, on my porch.”
“A car accident, you said? She’s okay?”
“Yeah.”
Dad shook his head slowly, opened his mouth to speak, shut it and snapped his attention to Tom. “I’m a grandfather.”
“You sure are.”
“I have a granddaughter.” Wonder filled his tone. Tom nodded, completely understanding his father’s reaction. “Before I get too ahead of myself, Tommy, we need to consider a few things. I don’t know how to put this...but given what you told us about...well, you know, how can you be sure the girl is yours?”
“I’m sure. Stephanie didn’t cheat on me. I refused to believe her back then, told myself she wanted a future with that other guy, but I was wrong.” Tom crossed to the large picture window with its endless views of the lake lined with evergreens. The familiar landscape of his childhood grounded him. Filled him with resolve he’d lacked earlier. “Macy looks just like me. Undeniable. The eyes. She’s mine.”
“She’s got the Sheffield eyes? Imagine that.” Dad jingled his key ring. His Carhartt jacket, faded baggy jeans and work boots gave him the appearance of a man in his early fifties, not his midsixties. Even his thick silver hair didn’t age him. The man projected energy in motion at all times. “How old did you say she was?”
“Four.” Tom wiped his hand over the back of his neck. The rawness of his discovery had choked him up off and on for the past hour.
“I’m sorry, Tommy. This must be hard to take in. Are you happy about it? At all?”
The concern in his eyes strangled Tom’s throat even more. He coughed. “Yeah, Dad, I’m happy. I mean, a daughter—my daughter. It’s...hard to describe. When I looked at her face and saw how small and cute she was, all I wanted to do was pick her up, buy her the contents of a toy store and protect her from everything that could hurt her. I can’t explain. It was instant.”
“Good. That’s the way it’s meant to be.” Dad nodded. “What did you say her name was?”
“Macy.”
“Macy.” Dad tilted his head to the side. “You know she needs you, right? She needs her father.”
“I know.” The revelations had worn him out, and Tom returned to the couch, his legs splaying and his neck falling back against the cushions. “I still can’t believe Stephanie kept this from me.”
“I can’t, either.” Dad perched on the arm of the chair.
“How could she?” The loss of time with Macy hit him again. “How could she not tell me? I’ve been walking around in a daze all these years when I could have been spending time with my daughter.”
All the wasted weekends, the boring nights, the hours at work—the aimless battery inside him that could have been sparked. If only he’d known.
“It’s hard to understand. It will be harder to forgive.”
Tom let out a dry laugh. “Forgive her? I can’t. This is—”
“The hardest thing you’ll have to do.” Dad leveled the you-know-I’m-right stare he’d perfected years ago. Tom shifted his jaw but listened. “I’m not saying forgiveness has to happen immediately, but anger and bitterness won’t help Macy. Take my advice and give this to God as soon as possible or it will eat you alive.”
It was already eating him alive. And he knew all about regrets and the way they hollowed a person out. The day he’d signed the divorce papers had set in motion a chain of choices he regretted as much as his brief marriage. Now Stephanie and her secrets flooded him with the past he’d fought hard to forget.
“I mean it, Tommy.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I know exactly what I’m asking. Forgiving isn’t pretending she didn’t hurt you. I’m not saying you act like nothing happened. Pray for her. Pray for the mother of your child.”
Tom shook his head. His neck was so tight, one more problem and it would snap.
Dad rose, his hand tapping against his thigh. “Do you want what’s best for Macy?”
“Of course.” He glared at him.
“Then find a way to forgive her mother.”
Tom jumped to his feet, his fists balled at his sides. “She didn’t think about me—did she, Dad? It’s common knowledge you don’t see other guys when you’re married!”
Dad moved closer and looked him in the eye. “I’m not taking her side. You have the right to be angry with her. She hurt you. But for Macy’s sake, you’ll have to work on a civil relationship. I don’t know what Stephanie is like anymore, but when you two got married, I saw an insecure girl who had never heard of Jesus and didn’t want to. I prayed for her then. I’m praying for her now.”
Tom ground his teeth together. He spent enough time with his worn Bible each night to know that what Dad said made sense. But it didn’t change the past. Tom would never get those early years with Macy back.
“She robbed me. She robbed me of my daughter. She robbed me of our marriage. You go ahead and pray for her. I’m not.” Even as he said it, Stephanie’s bruised face from earlier came to mind. The way she stood tall and maintained eye contact. Confidence infused her that hadn’t been there before.
The front door opened and his sister Claire breezed inside. “This is a treat. You got here early for once.”
Got here early? No. It couldn’t be Tuesday.
Dinner at the cottage. With the family.
“Uh,” Tom said, grabbing his keys. “I got to go.”
“No. You backed out last week. You’re staying.” She set a huge orange Tupperware bowl on the table. “Besides, Reed and I have barely seen you lately. How’s the training going?”
“Fine.” If he made a break for it, he might be able to skip dinner. But he stayed rooted. “It’s going fine.”
“Are you going to tell her or am I?” Dad raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I can’t keep a secret to save my life.”
Tom’s insides shriveled. It was true. Dad couldn’t keep a secret. He’d blown Sam’s surprise birthday party a mere two months ago. But...tell everyone? Tonight? After the divorce, his siblings had treated him like a trauma patient for months. Did Tom really want to blab the news now?
“What’s going on?” Claire raised an eyebrow. “You two are acting weird.”
If he didn’t say it, Dad would. Tom sighed. “I’ve got some news.”
“What kind of news?” Wariness hung on her words.
“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.
“I don’t know. Honestly, Tom, I felt very neglected in our marriage.”
He grabbed the glass of water and drank. It didn’t surprise him to hear those words, but they hurt. The truth hurt.
“Macy’s my whole world,” she said. “It hasn’t been easy doing this on my own.”
The sadness in her eyes tore at his conscience, but sympathizing would get him in trouble. The kind of trouble that started with forgiveness and ended with... “That was your choice. To do it on your own.”
“You act like I wanted to get pregnant and live with my dad.”
A retort begged to come out, but he counted to three. “Well, what’s done is done. I want to tell Macy I’m her dad. I’m ready to be her father now.”
“This isn’t all about you. Think about her.”
He leaned back, at a complete loss for words. He had agreed to her charade last night, and now she wanted to continue it? Not going to happen. If she refused to bend about this, he’d call his lawyer. Work out a visitation schedule where he could have Macy to himself.
“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I pass.” He stood, flexing his hands. “I’m Macy’s father. I’m telling her, I’m spending time with her and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
