Unexpected Family

* * *

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.”

Chapter Three

“Wait. Tom—” Stephanie rushed to him, blocking his path.

What was wrong with her? She knew better than to come out guns firing, and yet she had. If she wasn’t careful, blame would get tossed back and forth like a twisted game of hot potato. She summoned every ounce of patience and lifted her chin.

“Please sit down.” She sighed. “I didn’t call you here to fight. And I don’t expect you to believe it, but I’ve changed. Part of that change has been trying to become someone trustworthy.”

He lifted his eyebrows but sat.

“Before you take matters into your hands,” she continued, “would you agree to spend some time with Macy first?”

“Is this a trick?” His gaze dropped to the stuffed bunny.

“No, it’s not a trick. Think about it.” She smoothed her sweater over her hips. Tom didn’t know Macy, didn’t know she sang “I Am Jesus’ Little Lamb” before bed each night, loved noodles, hated peas, refused to wear socks with stripes and wouldn’t brush her teeth unless she could use her Oscar the Grouch toothbrush. Learning those details took time.

“Why should I?” he asked.

Of all the clueless things to say. The response was so Tom, she had to bite back a retort. But she wasn’t surprised. He wanted his daughter now, whether Macy was ready or not. Why would he bother to get to know anyone—his daughter included—when he’d made zero effort to get to know his own wife?

Stephanie returned to the chair and sat. “It would be easier if she felt comfortable with you before telling her you’re her dad.” She waited for him to disagree and storm out, but he lifted his gaze to hers. Nervous. Scared?

Impossible. Not him.

“I think you’re right.” He grimaced, ducking his chin.

Wait, had he just told her she was right? She almost did a double take.

“Good,” she said. “I don’t think it will take long, either. She’s a wonderful girl.”

“I know she is.” His chest puffed out.

Another surprise. Tom already put Macy on a pedestal. Stephanie’s heart lifted a little at the thought. Sharing Macy with Tom wouldn’t be horrible if Stephanie knew her baby was loved. But she still had a lot of questions to clear up first. “If we’re going to do this, we should probably catch up so there aren’t any misunderstandings.”

Tom frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Um.” She opened her palms, unsure how to continue. “I guess we should know what we’re getting into, like get up to speed on each other’s lives. What’s your schedule like? Do you have a girlfriend? That sort of thing.”

The look on his face screamed “get me out of here.” She quickly continued, “I’ll start it off. I work full-time as a receptionist for a dentist nearby, and I’ll have my bachelor degree in accounting this spring. I plan on getting my master’s degree, too. I...actually, I—” She stalled, not ready to mention Florida. Hadn’t Dad always warned her not to poke the bear? She’d wait to tell Tom, when they could spend at least five minutes being civil to each other.

“Are you trying to tell me you have a boyfriend?” He barked out the words, but he didn’t seem angry. No, the way he flicked his thumb against his finger wasn’t anger. She’d seen Tom in many moods, but this wasn’t one of them. She peeked at his hands again. Could he be vulnerable?

With a quick shake of her head, she said, “No.”

“What is it, then?” He met her eyes, and she got lost in their beauty. Look away!

One thing Tom had always pressured her to do when they were married was attend church with him, but she never had. Not once. She wasn’t ready to share her Florida plans yet, but maybe Tom deserved to know about more than just her career plans and nonexistent love life. “I’m a believer now. Been attending church for two years. Macy, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Turns out you were right. I needed a savior.” She shuddered to think what her life would be like without God. He got her through each day, filled her with peace when life got chaotic, comforted her when she doubted her actions.

He lightly clasped his hands in his lap. “Don’t we all.”

They stared at each other a moment, a ray of understanding between them. The man on her couch resembled the Tom she’d married, but he seemed more complex. Tempted her to unravel the mystery and find out who he’d become. She shook her head. Good thing she’d earned a black belt in avoiding temptation.

“While we’re putting our lives out there, I need to know something.” He cleared his throat, lowered his gaze. “Has Macy had a man in her life?”

“Just my dad.” She blinked. “No boyfriends.”

“What about, well, you know?”

“Aaron?” She waved dismissively. “No. I don’t expect you to believe this, but when you confronted me about him, it changed my life.”

“It changed mine, too.” His gruff tone filled the air. She wanted to touch him, comfort him. But she’d forfeited that right years ago.

“I saw Aaron for what he was—a lonely, insecure guy who got a kick out of pursuing an off-limits woman. And I guess I saw myself for what I was, too. I’d been playing the victim. I needed to take responsibility for my life. I don’t blame you for hating me. And I don’t expect you to ever forgive me.”

“I told you I don’t hate you. It’s been a long time. I’m over it.”

“Good.” She tried to smile, but her heart caved in. It shouldn’t hurt, hearing his dismissal, but it did. “Have you found someone new?”

“No.” He shook his head. “The single life is for me.”

She blew out a breath, relief trickling to her gut. He was single. Not that it meant anything to her—it was just better for Macy. Stephanie couldn’t handle the thought of a jealous girlfriend making Macy miserable. Although, a woman getting close to her daughter left a sour taste in her mouth, too. Complications piled up in her mind. She tossed them away. “Still working at the dealership?”

He nodded. “I own two of them.”

“Good for you.” Two dealerships. Twice the amount of work. Double the hours? She hoped not.

Silence lingered, made her fidget. What else was there to say? A lot, actually, but none of it really mattered. Except the one thing she hadn’t yet clarified. The one thing Tom was bound to fight her on.

“So, I have an idea how we can do this.” She drew her palms together, her chin resting on her fingertips.

He narrowed his eyes. “Do what?”

“Spend time together—the three of us—to make Macy feel comfortable with you.”

His lips tugged downward as if he’d bitten into a Sour Patch Kids candy. “The three of us?”

“Until she’s used to you. Then we can figure out a way to tell her you’re her dad. Work out a visitation schedule.”

She waited for his outburst, his objection. He stared at the window a moment, then met her eyes.

“Okay, but I’m not waiting forever.” He raked his hand through his hair. “How does Saturday afternoon work for you?”

* * *

Ridiculous.

He’d accepted her terms without a fight. Tom merged his truck onto the highway, cranking a Keith Urban song louder.

Who was he kidding? All the fight had left him when she’d walked out five years ago. It had happened so quickly. They’d met, gotten engaged, been married and divorced in just over a year. He’d been coasting ever since.

Not true. He’d stopped drifting when he’d started training. He pressed on the accelerator. He’d already added three miles to his hardest runs. Given up pop and junk food. This race was worth pushing himself for. It had to be.

Years of being stuck in the past, of being convinced he wasn’t enough, had taken its toll. Regrets and blame roared through his gut. The blame he’d gotten through with the help of his Bible. But the regrets?

He hadn’t been a good husband. So wrapped up in his new responsibilities of managing Dad’s car dealership, he’d worked seventy-hour weeks and ignored his bride. She was right about that. He had neglected her.

He’d loved her. And he’d blown it. Hadn’t paid attention to the signs, but in hindsight, they’d been there. She’d cooked special meals he never showed up for. Worse, he’d barely thanked her. And, on more than one occasion, he’d lost track of time reviewing reports when he was supposed to meet her at a restaurant or the movies. He’d ignored her sadness and basically acted as if marriage was all about him.

It didn’t excuse her, though. She’d lied, went behind his back and gotten close with another guy. But what had she said just now? About seeing that jerk for who he was—a lonely scuzzball? Maybe she hadn’t put it in those words, but she might as well have. He grinned for a moment, and then a slew of questions about his future assaulted him.

The exit he normally took came and went, and within minutes he found himself at the zoo gate where Claire worked. He texted her. Meet me out front? I need to talk.

He should be driving home, lacing up his shoes and hitting the pavement. Should be acting as if what happened today didn’t matter. But a feeling of caving in, of losing—what, he didn’t know—coursed through his body.

His phone dinged. I’ll be there in five minutes.

Five minutes. Too long. The taste in his mouth turned to copper.

Maybe he hadn’t caved in. And he certainly hadn’t lost anything. He’d let Stephanie have her plan because...

He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t ready to be a dad.

“There you are.” Claire sailed through the gate and gave him a hug. “How did it go? Did she love the bunny?”

“I’m not sure.” He led Claire to a bench. Seeing her in the khaki pants and polo shirt with her name embroidered on it always filled him with pride. His sister had wanted to work for the zoo since she was a little kid. Her dream finally came true this year. Some people’s dreams did anyway. “I didn’t see her.”

“What?” Claire’s stricken face matched her tone. “Why?”

“Stephanie thinks we should ease Macy into this.”

“Oh, like you get to know her before telling her you’re her dad?”

He nodded. Claire made it sound reasonable.

“Makes sense to me,” she added. “Does it bother you so much?”

“Not that. She wants to be there, too.”

“Who? Stephanie?” The corners of her lip curled down and she shrugged. “Might be smart.”

“You think so?” He clung to the thought.

“Yeah.” She brushed a piece of straw off her pants. “Think about it. If you’re a four-year-old girl, would you want to spend time with some strange man if your mom isn’t around? You’d likely terrify her, no offense.”

“None taken.” He hadn’t pursued that angle before. His apprehension lightened. “But it’s hard.”

“I know. It is hard. Spending time with your ex-wife is hard.”

“I worry— Never mind.” Spending time with Stephanie was difficult because she reminded him of the dreams he’d tucked away. Before they got married, he’d had a plan. Make the dealership a success, buy a house, start a family. Except he’d failed. He jerked his head to the side. The sun warmed his face. He didn’t dare say what he was thinking out loud.

Claire touched his arm. “Are you worried about her hurting you again?”

How did Claire always cut to the heart of it?

He nodded.

“Tommy, Aunt Sally once asked me if I believed I’m always divinely guided, and I told her yes. Do you know what she said to me after?”

He shook his head.

“She told me I would always take the right turn in the road. I believe that. Now you’ll have to ask yourself the same question.”

The clouds feathered across the sky as he pondered what she said. Divinely guided, yes. But did he always take the right turn in the road? No. He’d made too many wrong turns to believe it.

“I was kind of glad Stephanie suggested taking it slow. I’m not ready to be alone with my own kid. I have no idea what little girls like to do, what they need, what they eat. I’m clueless, Claire.” Plus, he was drawn to Stephanie, not that he’d ever admit it. Would he get lost in another thankless relationship with her? Where he’d end up the loser again?

She laughed. “You’re going to be great. Macy will love you. Just take lots of notes on how Stephanie handles things. And when you’re in doubt, ask Macy what she likes.”

He didn’t voice the other concern spinning around his head. What if he spent time with them and realized he was a terrible dad? That Macy was better off without him in her life?

“Something else is on your mind,” Claire said. “I can see it.”

She knew him well, but he wasn’t ready to confide in her. “I finally got the guts to sign up for something I’d been thinking about for years, and this situation could end it.”

“You’re not going to quit training. This race is too important to you, so don’t even go there. We’ll keep you on track. And I get you’d be nervous about...this situation—about Stephanie. You don’t have to explain. You sprinted through the whole relationship, and she’s, what, five years younger than you? You two weren’t ready for marriage, and it’s not as if you’re dating again—you’re spending time together so you can be the dad you were meant to be.”

The words sprinkled over him, shedding a layer of guilt he’d thought he’d eliminated. “Thanks, Claire.” Hanging out with Stephanie and Macy would give him the skills he needed to be a good father. He’d have to keep reminding himself.

And if not?

He wouldn’t think about it. He’d be a good parent. Period.

Claire grinned. “You realize what this means, right?”

He frowned. “No clue.”

“You’re going to have to break the news to Aunt Sally she won’t be meeting Macy yet.”

* * *

“Come on.” Stephanie pulled Macy by the hand through the parking lot of Johnson’s Pumpkin Patch Saturday afternoon. Cars and trucks crawled along the lane until a flagger directed them to park in a field. She scurried through the couples as best as she could.

Boy, it was busy. Laughter, conversation and the occasional squeal punctured the festive atmosphere. Attracted to the sweetness of the nearby apple trees, bees swarmed about the picnic tables she passed. The sun shone hot on her face, and she drank in the aroma of homemade doughnuts. Cinnamon. Her stomach grumbled.

Macy’s hand began to slip from her fingers, but she gripped it tighter. “We’re late, so please walk faster.”

“Why are we meeting him here, Mommy?” Macy whined, each step deliberately slow. Her sling tapped against her little chest to the rhythm of their movements. “Why didn’t we come, just us?”

Stephanie inwardly sighed. Between working full-time, all the hours spent at school, then hunching over homework each evening, she understood why Macy clung to her when they were together. Even when they went to the park, Macy never ran off to play with other kids. She wanted her mom all to herself.

“Because it’s good to have friends.” Stephanie beamed. Maybe her lame answer would put a stop to more questions. If the guilt about not telling Tom was bad, the guilt about not giving Macy a father was worse.

“Don’t want no more friends.” Macy’s knees inched higher as she marched.

“Don’t be silly. Everyone wants friends. You like Tatum at preschool, right? And Josie at day care.”

Macy dug her heels in and yanked back. Now what?

“You don’t need more friends. You have me.” Her glistening eyes pleaded with Stephanie.

She knelt and tweaked Macy’s nose. “Of course I have you. And we’re best friends. But I’m your mom, too. And we both can have other friends.”

“I don’t like him.” Her lower lip bulged.

“Why not?” Why would Macy already not like Tom? She’d seemed fine with him at McDonald’s.

In her pink fleece jacket and pigtails riding high on her head, Macy bobbed her chin and scrunched her face up into a major pout. “I’m not going.”

Stephanie straightened. Not now. A temper tantrum when they were already running late? Couldn’t one thing in her life be easy? Just once?

“You are going.” She put her stern tone on. “This isn’t your decision. We’re meeting Tom here, picking out pumpkins, and you will use your manners.”

Macy stomped her foot.

“That is unacceptable, Macy. Do you hear me?”

Macy’s nose soared, defiance radiating out of her.

Patience. Give me patience.

Might be time for a change of tactic. An act of desperation, surely, and not one any parenting expert would condone, but something had to be done. “I thought you wanted a doughnut. If you forget your manners, you will not get one.”

“I want a doughnut!” Macy’s eyes widened.

“Well, then, you’ll have to behave.”

A moment passed before Macy sighed. “Yes, Mommy.”

Stephanie reached for her hand again. They hustled toward the big barn converted to a country store. Macy oohed over an orange cat running by, and Stephanie craned her neck to see through the clusters of people. Tom’s tall, athletic frame rounded the corner, and her pulse thumped, then sped up. His easy smile? Just like when they first met. In a navy blue pullover and jeans, he attracted several female stares, yet he appeared oblivious to the admiration. She tightened her hold around Macy’s hand.

“Ouch, Mommy.”

“Sorry.” All worked up over six feet of strapping male. And why not? They’d been good together, once upon a time.

He squatted in front of Macy, grinned and held out his hand. “I believe we met already, Miss Macy. How are you doing today? Are you ready to pick out a pumpkin?”

Macy hesitated, but she eventually shook his hand, her eyes stony.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like pumpkins?” He righted himself to a standing position.

Stephanie nudged her.

“They’re all right.” Macy sounded as enthused as she did when she had to get a booster shot.

“Thanks for meeting us here, Tom.” Stephanie plastered her widest smile on. “Why don’t we mosey out to the field? Which patch is the best, do you think?”

With questions in his eyes, he glanced at Macy, who was now picking at her sling. “Looks like a lot of people are headed that way.” He pointed to a lane where kids ran ahead, moms pushed strollers and dads toted young boys or girls on their shoulders.

“Do you want a ride, Macy?” He tapped his shoulders.

She shook her head, pigtails slapping the sides of her face.

“Okay.” He frowned.

Stephanie considered pulling him aside to explain, but what could she say? Macy isn’t really a brat. She’s acting like one because she doesn’t want to share me. Yeah, that would sound great. Stephanie did the best she could as a single mom, and sometimes it wasn’t good enough. When she’d lived with Dad, it hadn’t been as bad. He played with Macy while Stephanie tackled a term paper. He soothed the tension when her patience vanished.