“I’ve been thinking more about what Norma and Rita said, and I’m worried about her,” Holly explained. “I’m trying to talk to her a lot and get her to move around, and I have an appointment with this developmental pediatrician next week.”
She seemed upset about it, and understandably so. Cash even felt a little guilty. No, he hadn’t been truly close to Tiff, but he should have followed up, remained a friend. Seemed like she’d needed one. “Can I hold the baby?” he asked.
“Sure. She seems to like you. Well, of course she does. She should.” Holly sounded flustered as she handed him the baby, but then, caring for a kid all day was tough.
Penny was a cute little peanut, dressed in a soft pink one-piece outfit and smelling like baby powder. She fit right into his arms. They ended up on the couch together, all three of them, Holly and Cash taking turns holding Penny and scarfing down a slice of pizza each. He talked nonsense to Penny, laughed at her when she grabbed for his slice, and when her face screwed up like she was going to cry again, he distracted her with a rattle Holly handed him. Slowly, they got her calmed down.
It was dangerously close to the domestic fantasy Cash had in his weakest moments. The times when he blatantly envied his brothers, when he longed for what he’d never have.
“I’m going to put her to bed,” Holly said finally. She looked up at him, her face close, uncertain. “Do you... Would you like to come?”
“Sure, why not?”
After they’d put Penny into the Pack ’n’ Play, which Holly had moved into her bedroom—she planned to give Penny the other small bedroom, she said, but not just yet—they walked out of the room together. When Holly looked up at him, her flushed cheeks and smile had turned her face from pretty to beautiful. He couldn’t resist moving closer.
The way her pupils dilated and her breath caught was very subtle, but Cash knew how to read women. She was interested in him, at least a little. Good, because he was interested in her.
“You’re doing a great job with Penny,” he said, leaning one hand against the wall, looking down at her.
She started to smile, and then something crossed her face, some concern. She stepped out and away from him and searched his eyes. “I don’t... Look, we should talk.”
“Talking’s overrated.” He smiled at her. He didn’t necessarily like the part of himself that said that, not anymore. But it had always been effective.
The next step she took away from him was bigger, more decisive, and she held up a hand. “Whoa. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea. That’s not what this is about.”
“Is it my fault you’re irresistible?” She was, but what a line! He could do better.
“Come out to the living room,” she said, and strode out there. “Have a seat.” She gestured to a chair. Not, he noted, to the couch.
Too bad.
“Look,” she said, “I was hoping you’d find out the same way I did, by mail, but I’m just going to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” He was still thinking about seduction possibilities. He should definitely take her out before making a move. Maybe to one of the expensive restaurants that overlooked the ocean. She seemed far from affluent and would probably appreciate a good dinner.
She swallowed, and her hands tightened on the edge of the couch. “The DNA test results are back,” she said.
“That was fast. What did you find out?” She looked upset, and that was understandable; she’d probably hoped he could help her as the baby’s father. But maybe he’d be able to help her a little bit, just because. He could certainly afford it.
“The baby’s yours.”
“I can maybe... Whoa. What did you say?”
She repeated it. “The baby’s yours.”
“That’s got to be wrong,” he said while a great, swirling noise rose up inside his head. The baby’s yours.
She was saying something about how the results should come to him, too, would be waiting in his mailbox, but he couldn’t follow the details.
The baby’s yours.
Total disaster. It just couldn’t be, because he was the last person who should be parenting a child.
She walked over to the kitchen counter and picked up a special-delivery envelope. “It’s all right here,” she said, opening the envelope in what seemed like slow motion.
He couldn’t move.
“Don’t you want to see?” she asked, beckoning him over.
He forced his legs to walk to the kitchen area, forced his eyes to skim the chart, the “alleged father” column, something about alleles and double Xs and Ys.
She leaned over and tapped the bottom of the page. “Paternity practically proven,” it said.
Practically proven. He seized on that. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s a greater than 99.9 percent chance,” she said, holding up another page, dense with writing. “It’s all explained here.” She pointed him to sections here and paragraphs there, talking him through it.
Cash looked at her. Looked back toward the bedroom where Penny was sleeping.
He felt like something was constricting his throat, like he couldn’t breathe.
“I want to keep this copy,” she said, “but like I mentioned, you should have the exact same report in your mailbox when you get home. Do you—do you want to talk about it?”
Talk? He could barely breathe. “No,” he said. “No. I need to think.” Stiff as a robot, he walked over and picked up his jacket.
“But we didn’t finish the pizza.” She nodded toward the forgotten box. “And we do need to talk. As soon as possible.” She straightened her back and faced him.
“Not now,” he said.
“Look,” she said, “I’m not asking you to have custody of Penny, or even take care of her. I just need you to step up to the plate with child support. So can we meet tomorrow?”
Dimly, beneath the shock, he felt a twinge because, of course, she only wanted his money.
That was usually the case with women, but this time, apparently, the child was actually his.
He had a child. “Sure. Tomorrow.” He turned and practically ran out of the apartment.
He couldn’t be a father. He’d always known that. He wasn’t suited.
What was he supposed to do?
CHAPTER FOUR
THE NEXT MORNING, Holly decided she needed to do something concrete to enrich Penny’s life, stimulate her, work on any delays she might have. Taking her to the baby lap-sit at the library seemed like a good—and fortunately, free—way to do it.
She needed to get Cash’s stricken expression out of her mind and stop worrying about what he’d do with the knowledge that he was Penny’s father. He was supposed to get in touch with her today and talk things through; if he didn’t, she’d figure out her next step. No point in sitting inside her apartment worrying.
When she walked into the Safe Haven Public Library, she inhaled the old-book smell and listened to the quiet voices, and felt her tight shoulders relax. She’d always loved libraries; they’d been refuges when she was a kid. This one was particularly homey, with lots of polished old wood and comfortably shabby carpets and furniture.
She followed the “Baby Lap-Sit” signs upstairs and soon was sitting in a circle with about ten other parents and babies.
Holly felt nervous, like the new kid at school; all the others seemed to know each other. But unlike when she’d been in school, several of these women were friendly. A couple of them made eye contact with her and smiled, and the mom next to her looked at Penny. “Why, aren’t you the cutest little thing!” she said in a singsong voice, making Penny laugh.
Three women stood off to one side, talking intently about something that made them smirk and snicker as they held their babies loosely on their hips. One, a little girl, struggled to get down, but her mother just pulled a big bag of marshma
llows out of her purse and started popping them in the baby’s mouth.
The white-haired, rosy-faced woman who was leading the group introduced herself as Miss Martha. “We’ll go around the circle,” she said. “Everyone introduce yourselves and your babies. Tell us the age of your kids. You don’t have to reveal your own age,” she joked, and the moms laughed.
As the mothers introduced themselves and their babies, it became obvious that Penny was one of the older babies in the group, even though Holly was probably one of the youngest moms, or rather, mother figures. She didn’t clarify that she wasn’t Penny’s mother; that wasn’t a concern of any of theirs.
One of the few babies that looked bigger and older than Holly—a toddler, really—was lying beside his mother, thumping his clunky shoes on the floor over and over, only pausing to give his mother the occasional hard kick.
“Oh, Jason, don’t,” his mother said, but didn’t do anything else to stop the child.
The marshmallow mom nudged one of her friends, whose lip curled. Jason’s mother seemed to notice, because her mouth turned down and her shoulders slumped.
The marshmallow-eating baby broke free from her mother’s arms and grabbed Jason’s truck, causing a small tussle.
“Come on, Tyla, you have a toy to play with.” The mom dug into her bag and produced a rubber doll.
Tyla took the doll, glanced at it and then hurled it at Jason. Fortunately, her aim wasn’t good enough to hit her target.
“Well, okay, let’s get started!” Miss Martha said. “This playtime is about you connecting with your baby. Eye contact, smiles, giggles—all of it is crucial to your child’s socialization.”
“Some kids could use a little help,” Jason’s mom muttered.
Miss Martha had them all sit with babies in their laps, facing outward, then showed them a simple finger-play game. As Holly manipulated Penny’s tiny hands, Penny looked back over her shoulder and gave Holly a wide-eyed smile.
Love for her niece exploded in her chest, and tears pushed at the backs of her eyes. She kissed the top of Penny’s head and made a silent promise: I’ll do everything I can to help you catch up and grow up right.
“Patty-cake next,” Miss Martha singsonged. Clearly, she was determined to keep them busy so the babies—and mothers—stayed focused instead of turning on each other.
All the moms obediently encouraged their children to clap their hands, which the babies did with varying degrees of success.
All except Penny, who didn’t seem to have a clue about clapping, even after Holly showed her how. She had to hold Penny’s hands in her own and move them in a patty-cake motion throughout the whole rhyme.
Covertly, she looked around to see if anyone else’s baby was struggling. Nope, just Penny.
As Holly wiggled her fingers in front of Penny for a counting game, she was painfully aware of how little she knew about how to raise a baby.
She’d tried to read and research and watch videos when she could, but since she’d brought Penny home she’d been so busy, what with closing down her dog-walking business in New York and moving to Safe Haven, that she really hadn’t had a lot of time for a conscious plan of how to do a good job as Penny’s new mom; it had mostly been catch-as-catch-can.
Now, she felt inadequate, especially compared to the other parents, who seemed so comfortable and knowledgeable with their babies. One of the kids actually threw up, which would have made Holly panic. But her mother just held her over a blanket until she’d finished, rolled up the blanket and stuffed it into her diaper bag, then swiped a tissue over the child’s mouth.
Again, the snotty moms sneered. But Holly was just impressed with the throw-up mother’s aplomb.
She tried to soak in everything the leader said about child development. She’d get a library card and check out some of the books the leader was holding up, and would try to play these types of games with Penny every day.
After the official baby lap-sit ended, the leader encouraged them to stay a little longer and let the babies play together while the parents got to know each other. Holly sat Penny beside a colorful bolster and watched her as she took in her surroundings, feeling shy around the other mothers.
Penny got herself onto her hands and knees and scooted backward, but unlike the other babies, she didn’t pull up. Even babies who were younger seemed able to do more, much more. As she watched Penny’s awkward semi-crawl, Holly’s heart twisted in her chest.
It was becoming more and more apparent that Tiff hadn’t taken good care of Penny. And now, Holly was continuing that tradition. She’d started to realize that Norma and Rita had been right—Penny had delays. But now she saw, with a sinking feeling, just how far behind Penny was.
Miss Martha was making her way around the room, chatting with people, and she soon approached Holly and Penny. “We’re glad you joined us this week. Can I answer any questions for you?”
“She’s so far behind,” Holly blurted out. “She can’t really even crawl yet, and I don’t think she’s ever done anything like this—” she waved a hand to indicate the busy circle of mothers and babies “—in her whole life.”
“You don’t think so?” Miss Martha cocked her head to one side. “Are you a new foster or adoptive parent?”
“I’m her aunt, but I’m raising her now. Since last month, and I feel like I don’t know anything.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Miss Martha said reassuringly. “She’s adorable. I might be able to point you to a specialist or play therapist, if you’d like to hurry her along.”
“Yes, that would be great.” Holly scribbled down the names the woman gave her with a sinking heart. How was she going to pay for a special therapist when her savings were depleting so rapidly?
Penny’s father, that was how. She had to get in touch, motivate him to help his child.
She shot a text to Cash and then took a couple of videos of Penny sitting and watching the other babies. No one seemed to mind; in fact, a lot of the other moms were taking pictures.
As soon as Cash texted back that he was on his way, she collected Penny’s things, hoisted the baby into her arms and hurried down the stairs.
Minutes later, Cash joined her in the little outside sitting area. “You said you needed to talk to me.”
“I want you to see something.” Unceremoniously, she plunked Penny into his arms and held her phone so he could see.
“So she’s playing with the other babies and... Oh. She’s not.”
“Right. She’s just watching them, even though they’re all younger than she is. Sometimes she crawls, but just barely. She’s really behind, Cash.” Her voice caught a little as she said it.
He settled Penny closer to his chest and brushed a kiss on top of her head, and worry lines appeared on his forehead. Holly could smell his cologne—expensive—and feel the heat from his body so close to hers.
One of the snotty moms walked across the courtyard and did a double take when she saw Cash. “Well, hey, Cash,” she said, smiling. “You have a new little friend, do you?”
“Yeah,” he said without elaborating on the relationship. “You’ve met Holly, right?”
“We just had a fun time together,” the mom said, sparing a quick smile for Holly.
“And this is...Tyla, right?” He reached out and tickled her baby’s chin, making her giggle. “When did Tyla start to crawl?”
“Oh, gosh, she was scooting around at six months, but a real crawl? Just a few weeks ago. At nine months.”
“Smarty,” he said, tickling the baby again.
He was so much better with babies than Holly was. So much better with people.
And he was charming to everyone, obviously, so when he treated Holly nicely, she couldn’t take it personally.
After Tyla and her mother left, Cash turned back to Holly. “We have some work to do,” he said.
“Remember, you don’t have to be involved,” she said quickly. “I just need money to get help for her.”
The friendly light went out of his eyes and his lips flattened. He looked from her to Penny. “Of course. I’ll do some research and draw up a child-support plan.” He stood, handed the baby back to Holly and left.
She sensed she’d offended him again and she felt bad about that. It was clear that Penny would benefit from his involvement. But Cash was too dangerous. Dangerous because he could take Penny from her. And dangerous because he was a little too attractive for a woman like her to handle.
* * *
AFTER LEAVING HOLLY and Penny, Cash headed for the center of town. Ever since Holly’s bombshell revelation last night, he’d known he needed to see his brothers, immediately.
And since there was no other way to do it, he’d agreed to join them for the worst holiday duty around: managing their kids in the long line of families that snaked through Safe Haven’s downtown park, waiting to see Santa. Their wives had dumped them off here at the park and escaped to shop and have a late lunch.
He’d agreed to help his brothers, but he hoped he’d find a chance to talk to them about the crazy results of the paternity test and the implications, which he was still trying to process. Even if the kids kept them too busy for a heart-to-heart, he craved a sense of normalcy and the support he got nowhere else but with his brothers.
They were the only people who understood him. Who’d understand why it was such a disaster for him to learn he was a father.
The smell of kettle corn and hot chocolate filled the air, and Christmas carols played over loudspeakers. Cash had to admire the business model of the early Santa visit: a captive audience, foods that played up everyone’s sense of tradition, hungry, cranky kids and parents who were feeling indulgent. Or maybe just desperate.
He spotted his brothers about halfway back in the line and headed over. No surprise, they barely had energy to say hello to him. Liam was busy with his foster son, Gino; the toddler had never visited Santa before and was scared at the prospect. Probably uncomfortable with the crowd and the noise, too. Sean was joggling his baby, Hosea, affectionately known as HoHo.
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