Читать книгу Baby, I'm Yours - Karen Templeton - Страница 8

Chapter Three

Almost every evening—once the sun was at a kinder tilt—Julianne plopped Pippa in her stroller and took her for a walk around the neighborhood. The excursions did both of them good, getting Pippa used to different sounds and sights and getting Julianne out of the house—out of herself—without having to deal with the tiresomeness of being sociable. Occasionally they’d pass a lone jogger or cycler, an older couple fast-walking their way back to youth, but for the most part it was just Julianne and the baby and the quiet. She loved the quiet.

When she didn’t hate it, that is.

Because while the quiet brought peace, it also provided a far-too-fertile ground for memories. For reflection. For the nagging little voice asking her exactly how much, and for how long, she intended to let herself rot away. This evening, of course, the stroller shimmying over the bumpy sidewalk as they headed back to her father’s house, Kevin Vaccaro had joined the ranks of Stuff to Worry About. As in, what would he do? Would he take the baby…? When would he take the baby…? Would Julianne ever see her again…? Was there any way to solve this without somebody getting hurt? That sort of thing.

Sunlight flashed off a windshield as they turned the corner. Julianne slipped her cheapo sunglasses back on over her regular glasses, pushed the stroller hood forward before Pippa’s squawk of annoyance could rev up to a full-out wail and thought, Nobody told you to tell him the truth, dimwit.

A sigh scampered to catch up with the thought. Because, damn her goody-goody conscience, she could never have lived with herself if she’d deliberately ignored the chance to do what was right. Now all she could do was trust that Kevin Vaccaro would do what was right, as well—

The sunspot on that windshield gradually diminished, revealing who was standing beside the from-hunger pickup surrounding it.

Well, hell.

“How’d you know we weren’t inside?” she called before her brain alerted her throat to close and her stomach to knot.

In worn jeans and a loose T-shirt, Kevin leaned against the truck’s dented front fender, ankles crossed, arms folded across his chest, watching their approach through a pair of badass sunglasses. Julianne reminded herself she’d never been a big fan of badass. “I passed you on the way,” Kevin said, in a voice deeper, and far more resolute, than she remembered. “You didn’t notice?”

Julianne shook her head, releasing the stomach-knotting signals. Amazing, the difference a measly eight hours makes, she thought, halting in front of him, vaguely noting that the jeans were a huge improvement over the khakis. Because somewhere between then and now, the scraps of leftover boy still clinging to him that morning had slunk off into the sunset, leaving this…this badass.

“What…” She swallowed, started over in a more normal voice. “What are you doing here?”

“I said I’d be back.” He removed his sunglasses, briefly met her gaze, then crouched in front of the stroller, his smile for his daughter absolutely heartbreaking. “So I’m back,” he said in a voice as silky smooth as baby powder, setting off a fine trembling throughout Julianne’s entire body that she could have gladly done without, thank youvery much.

Oh, hell. He was making her nervous. Which, he supposed, was the whole point to gaining the upper hand. Except, dammit, it was like scaring a whippet.

She’d led him through the house, out onto the covered patio. Flowers everywhere. Kick-ass trees. Lots of grass. Not a cactus or yucca in sight. Fair-size pool. Largish shedlike building in a far corner, a workshop, maybe.

“Have you eaten?” she asked, unstrapping the baby from her stroller.

Kevin turned, his gaze glancing off a straight ponytail, straight back, straight, shapeless sundress. Which probably wouldn’t be shapeless if she’d eat something. Fill it out a bit. Yes, he knew some women were naturally skinny, but somehow he didn’t think that was the case here. And what was with the gracious-hostess routine?

“I did, actually. After the meeting.”

“The meeting…? Oh.” She turned. “The meeting. Gotcha.”

He almost smiled. “Yeah,” he said, eyeing his daughter, contentedly gnawing her fist in Julianne’s arms. He’d needed the extra boost, even after talking to his parents. Up until two minutes ago, he’d planned on telling Julianne and Victor right up front what his intention was. Partly so they wouldn’t have time to react, partly before he lost his nerve. Now, however, he was thinking maybe the balls-out approach might not be the best way to go. That maybe it wouldn’t hurt to sell the idea, little by little. “I just go to meetings when the mood strikes. But the ones who make it usually keep it up for the rest of their lives. You mind if I hold her?”

After a momentary startled look, Julianne’s mouth twisted, like she was annoyed with herself. “Not at all,” she said, her sandals slapping against the flat stones as she crossed to him, did the transfer. Pippa never noticed, far more interested in her knuckles than who was holding her. Julianne stepped back, arms crossed. Keeping an eye on him. “Maybe you should sit.”

“I’m not gonna drop her, for cryin’ out loud.”

“Still,” she said, eyes round with worry behind her glasses. Kevin sat. “What goes on at the meetings?” she asked. Still standing.

“Didn’t Robyn tell you?”

“We had her in a private clinic. And if it hadn’t been for the mandatory family group sessions, we would have known next to nothing. And besides, as I said…my sister wasn’t interested in sharing.”

“Sharing is the key word, actually,” Kevin said, turning the baby to face him. “People share their stories. Their personal hells.” Man, was this a strong kid or what, her head not even wobbling on that little linebacker neck. What he could see of the neck for the chins, he thought, grinning. Petrified. Still gumming her fist, shiny with baby spit, Pip grinned back; Kevin’s heart did a triple forward somersault. “And their triumphs,” he said quietly. “Even the littlest ones count. When you’re climbing up from rock bottom, every step back up is a biggie.”

After a moment Julianne eased over to perch on the end of a chaise across from him, her arms still tucked against her ribs, knees pressed tightly together, eyes fastened on the baby. She almost seemed to be shrinking into herself, like she was trying to become invisible. Panting, the Lab plodded over to sit heavily on one hip at her knees. One slender hand reached out to stroke the space between his ears, and Kevin thought, Screw working up to this. But before he could open his mouth, she said, “You’re taking her, aren’t you?”

He couldn’t meet her gaze. “Yeah.”

“When?” she whispered.

“I promised this upholsterer friend of mine I’d help him out of a bind, so probably not for at least a week.”

“A week? How can you possibly make arrangements to take care of a baby in a week? This morning you said—”

“I know what I said this morning,” Kevin said, finally looking at her. “But since then I’ve talked to my folks. I can live with them indefinitely. They’ve got tons of room, Ma’s agreed to take care of Pip while I look for work—”

“With them? In Massachusetts?”

“It’s where my family is. Like I said, we’re close. Pip’d have a million cousins to play with—”

“So, what are you saying? Quantity trumps quality? That because it’s just the two of us, Dad and I don’t count?”

Aw, man—those eyes were killers. “Of course I’m not sayin’ that. But I’m Pip’s father. She belongs with me. And I’m gonna be honest with you, I have a far better chance of makin’ it work back home, where I’ve got connections and a place to live, than I ever would here.”

“Living with your parents?”

“What’s wrong with that? It’s working for you, isn’t it?”

Her face went bright red. A second later she bolted from her seat and back toward the house. Muttering an obscenity, Kevin took off after her, cupping the baby’s head as he followed her through the French doors into the living room. “Julianne! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

She whirled around, as though realizing she’d left the baby with him. “You have no idea,” she said, trembling, “what it’s been like for us. For me. Dad and I were just piecing together the scraps, trying to make a real family for Pippa! What’s so awful about that?”

“Nothing! But my finding out about Pippa changes everything. I mean, you had to know, when you told me, what would happen!”

“Julie?” her father said, hobbling into the room. Julianne flew to him, crumpling against his chest. Wrapping one arm around his daughter, Victor glared at Kevin over the top of her head. “What the hell’s going on?”

“I’ve decided to take Pip back with me to Massachusetts, Mr. Booth,” Kevin said quietly. “In about a week.”

Victor’s deep blue gaze lanced Kevin’s. “Before we get DNA verification that she’s really yours? Over my dead body.”

Okay, so maybe he’d been wrong about the Julianne-beinghis-biggest-obstacle thing. Not that Kevin was about to back down, but at least he now knew where to focus his fire. “So we’ll do the spit test,” he said, jiggling the baby when she began to whimper. “But as soon as we know—” he forced down the grapefruit at the base of his throat “—she’s mine.”

A still-shaky—and, Kevin was guessing, somewhat sheepish—Julianne extricated herself from her father’s arms. “Are you all right?” Victor murmured, worried, one hand on her shoulder. She nodded, shoving tears off her cheeks, and nausea walloped Kevin all over again.

“It’s Pippa’s bedtime,” she said, fixing Kevin with watery eyes, her expression a weird mix of sympathy, resignation and an anguish so deep Kevin’s heart squeezed in response. “Besides, the tension’s not good for her.”

Since the baby had begun to cry for real, even Kevin had to concede that point. Especially since he figured things were only going to get more intense. Julianne wiped her palms down her dress, then held out her arms. “You can check on her before you leave. Promise.”

Kevin handed Pip over, then watched them leave. “Do you even love her?” Victor asked behind him.

Startled, Kevin turned. “What?”

“Pippa. Is this about loving her, or just staking your claim?”

“Any reason it can’t be both?”

“Julianne said you looked scared to death when you first saw her.”

“Hell, I felt like I’d been knocked into next week with a wrecking ball. That doesn’t mean I don’t love her. Or don’t you believe in love at first sight?”

“You’re not going to rack up any points by being a smart-ass, Mr. Vaccaro.”

“And if it’d been up to you, I would’ve never even found out about my daughter. Believe me, winning points with you is the last thing on my mind.”

“I ran a background check on you, young man,” Victor said, his gaze never leaving Kevin’s. “Long before you showed up. So I know that in the past ten years, you haven’t held down any job for longer than six months. That you haven’t stayed in one place longer than six months. That you’ve had your license suspended twice for DUI and were busted once for possession.”

“Then you knew exactly where to find me all along, didn’t you?” When the older man didn’t answer, Kevin let out a dry laugh. “Well. Look on the bright side—at least I never applied for the job of son-in-law.”

Victor’s mouth pulled even tighter. If that was possible. “I was only thinking of Pippa’s welfare—”

“Because you think I’m scum. Got it. And to be fair, I can see where you’re coming from. Sort of. But unless you hired a really crappy P.I., you also know I successfully completed a three-month rehab program and that my record’s been spotless since. And the DUIs were years ago. Or doesn’t any of that count?”

“I’ve already lost Pippa’s mother,” Victor said. “Damned if I’m going to lose Pippa, as well.”

A splotch-faced Julianne inched back into the room, still hugging herself, clinging to her composure with everything she had. Kevin wished like hell there was some way to keep her from being part of the collateral damage.

“You don’t have to stay, Julie-bird. Kevin and I can handle this—”

“I’m fine. And anyway, this concerns me, too.” Her eyes touched Kevin’s. “Right?”

“Absolutely,” Kevin said before her father could protest. Then he pushed out a breath. “Okay, maybe on paper I don’t come across so good. And I know I’ve got this problem with shootin’ off at the mouth and sounding like I don’t take things as seriously as maybe I should. But I would think if anybody would recognize a defense mechanism, Mr. Booth, it would you be you.”

Victor’s brows lifted, and Kevin thought, Gotcha. “Yeah, I’ve read a couple of your books. My counselor in rehab was a big fan. Surprise, right? But it’s like I told Julianne earlier—I’m not that idiot kid anymore. Haven’t been for some time. Which means I know my present situation isn’t exactly ideal. In fact, since I found out about Pip this morning? I’ve been pretty much a mess, trying to figure out how to make this work. But the only thing I knew, the only thing I still know, is that I’m not about to duck my responsibility.” He hesitated. “Not like Robyn’s mother did to her. To both of you,” he directed to Julianne, who looked like she’d been clobbered over the head with a large stick.

A deathly quiet fell over the room. “Is that what Robyn told you?” Victor finally said. “That her mother killed herself to duck her responsibility?”

“I’m guessing that’s how Robyn saw it,” he said, realizing his mistake as it finally registered how much this family had been through. “Whatever the reasons, that had to be rough on a twelve-year-old. No wonder she was so messed up.”

Of course, her father’s obsessive determination to make up for what Robyn had seen as her mother’s betrayal had a lot to do with Robyn’s behavior, too. Even Kevin could figure out that the harder Victor had tried to compensate, the more stubbornly she’d withdrawn. But that was a road probably best left unexplored, at least for now. “Look, all you know about me is what you see in those reports—”

“And what my daughter said about you.”

“No offense, sir, but Robyn probably wasn’t entirely objective when it came to me. We didn’t exactly have an amicable breakup.”

“He’s right, Dad,” Julianne said, and Kevin’s eyes cut to her profile. “You know yourself Robyn’s talent at shaping whatever she said to fit the moment.” Then, to Kevin, “It’s true, she never really did get over our mother’s suicide—”

“Julie, this is none of his business—”

“Of course it is,” she said with surprising strength. “Like it or not, Pippa’s existence makes Kevin part of the family. And he deserves to know as much about Robyn as we can tell him. Especially if…if he’s going to take her to the other side of the country.”

Was the chick wack or what? It had to be killing her, to back him up like this. So why the hell was she doing it?

“Even on her good days,” Julianne said, “Robyn wasn’t known for her objectivity. After Mom died…” She sighed. “She was still a kid. And no matter how many times we told her that Mom had been sick, that her death had nothing to do with anything we did, it was obvious she never quite believed us. Of course, I don’t suppose it helped that Mom had promised to take her out for a rare just-the-two-of-them shopping and lunch spree the next day.”

Kevin groaned, even as he caught the sag of failure in Victor’s shoulders. “Yeah,” Julianne said, “it was pretty bad. How do you convince a child not to take something like that personally?”

And how did you take it? Kevin wondered, watching her. “From then on,” Julianne continued, “every slight, real or perceived, got blown completely out of proportion. And she hated being the one broken up with.”

Gus nosed her hand. Smiling slightly, she gave him a pat, then looked back at Kevin, her brow pinched. “However valid your reasons for leaving her may have been, no matter how she really felt about you, all Robyn saw was that you’d screwed her over. That sent you straight to the top of her S-list,” she said with a slight smile. “So you’re absolutely right—she definitely wasn’t a reliable source. Especially about you.”

Not exactly a wholehearted endorsement, but better than a kick in the ’nads. “Mr. Booth,” Kevin said after a moment, “it’s not like I don’t understand how this is hard for you. Especially since you don’t know me worth squat. You also don’t know my family, who were every bit as hurt by what I did as you were with Robyn. Believe me, if I go back there? If they thought I was even thinking about slipping back into old habits, they’d take the baby away from me. They’re good people, Mr. Booth. They don’t live in fancy houses or drive expensive cars, and all the kids go to public schools, but dammit…”

His eyes burned. “They never gave up on me. Even at my lowest point, I knew that. You know what my father used to say? ‘When a kid comes in all muddy, you don’t throw him away, you wash him off.’ Somehow, I’m betting you’d agree with him.”

After a very long moment the older man released a long, shaky breath. “Yes. I would.” Then his jaw locked again. “But for all I know, you could be pulling a major con on me.”

On a dry laugh, Kevin shook his head. “You know something? For somebody who preaches about forgiveness and healing as much as you do, you sure don’t seem real good at practicing it.”

Victor looked taken aback. But only for a moment.

“Ten thousand.”

Kevin frowned. “Pardon?”

“Ten thousand dollars. If you agree to stay for a month. Providing you live here, in this house, so I can see for myself that you’ve changed.”

“Dad!”

“It was your idea, Julie-bird,” Victor said, and Kevin thought, What the hell? His eyes ping-ponged from Julianne back to Victor.

“Excuse me,” he said when he could breathe again, “but I don’t have to prove a damn thing to you. Not after the stunt you tried to pull on me—”

“Twenty thousand,” Victor said, unfazed. Determined. “Deposited into your bank account at the end of the month to spend as you choose. If you agree to stay the month.”

Incredulous, Kevin snorted a laugh. “And I cannot believe you’re trying to buy my daughter.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake—how stupid do you think I am? The only thing I’m trying to ‘buy’ is a month of your time. To make sure Pippa would be in good hands with you. You say you love that little girl, but I know we do. If you’re determined to take her, then at least give us a chance to get used to the idea. To get to know you.”

“Never mind that nobody gave me time to get used to the idea of being a father.”

Victor’s mouth tightened. “Touché. Still. We both know you’re not in a position to turn down the money. Even today, twenty grand can go a long way when you have a child to take care of.”

Kevin narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t that stupid, either. Or that much of a fool. He knew damn well that Pippa would be more than taken care of, whether Kevin agreed to go along with Victor Booth’s plan or not. He’d be very surprised if the trust fund wasn’t already set up. Besides that, though, the old guy wasn’t about to jeopardize his granddaughter’s welfare to get back at Kevin. And after talking things over with his own father, he felt a lot more certain that while Victor might make noises about hauling Kevin’s ass into court, his chances of gaining custody weren’t all that great. Because the minute Victor brought up Kevin’s past, he’d be asked how he knew. And the minute that came out, it’d be pretty clear he’d deliberately kept Pippa’s existence a secret.

Sure, maybe Kevin’s record wasn’t exactly stellar, but he hadn’t used for more than a year, he would be taking Pippa into a stable environment—at least, one stable enough for all reasonable purposes—and, oh, yeah, he was Pippa’s father. He would submit to the DNA test to shut the old man up, but he wasn’t worried about the outcome. God knows, Robyn may have had her issues, but Kevin and she had been virtually living together for the month before they broke up. He’d bet his life the baby was his.

However, he’d also be lying if he said twenty grand wouldn’t come in handy. He could invest it, use it as a nest egg to maybe start his own renovation business. Sure, part of him wanted nothing to do with Victor Booth’s money. But another part of him felt like, you know, the dude owed him. Pride was all well and good, but there was a fine line between pride and idiocy.

And at least, if he was in residence, nobody could play the “he hasn’t been part of the child’s life” card against him.

Kevin slid his hands into his front pockets, looking Victor straight in the eye.

“You swear that after a month, I can take her? No arguments, no threats?”

“You have my word.”

“Oh, I’ll need more than your word. I want this in writing, signed and notarized. About the money, too.”

Victor’s eyebrow raised, like he didn’t expect Kevin to be that much on the ball. “Then…you won’t mind if I add a paragraph stating that if you backslide, even once, we get her back?”

“Not at all. Because that’s not gonna happen.” Kevin extended his hand. After a moment Victor took it.

And Kevin prayed like hell that this time, he’d made the right decision.