Involuntary Daddy

by Rachel Lee

  She nodded, but he noticed she was holding the baby even closer, as if the thought of leaving the child anywhere was unthinkable to her. He could identify with that.

  “Anyway, she thinks I ought to fight it out here, because any judge and jury in the county would give custody to Nate, or to Nate’s brother, in a heartbeat before they’d give it to the brother of some drug dealer from Miami.”

  Angela smiled, then laughed. “Oh, that’s so true! People around here think Nate walks on water. If he says you ought to have the kid, nobody else on earth will stand a chance. Nobody.”

  Then she noticed he wasn’t laughing, and she sobered. “But?” she said. “I sense a but coming.”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, I need to talk to Nate about this whole cockamamie idea I had. You know, it sounded great in Miami, but ever since I got here, it’s been looking worse and worse. I don’t even want to mention it to him.” Crazy as it seemed, he suddenly didn’t want his newfound brother to think poorly of him.

  Angela’s face softened. “I think Nate will understand, Rafe. He’s a very compassionate man.”

  Rafe shook his head. “He’ll think I was crazy. Give my kid to a stranger? I was crazy.”

  She looked down at the baby, then back at him. “Do you want me to talk to Nate for you?”

  He sighed and shook his head. “No, this is one I’ve got to do myself.”

  “Well, then, call him and get it done. I don’t know about you, but I can’t stand having stuff like this hanging over my head.”

  “Me neither,” he admitted. He got up, poured himself a cup of coffee, and was just reaching for the phone when a knock sounded on the front door. “What now? More papers?”

  He went out to answer it, and Angela followed into the foyer. When Rafe opened the door, she saw a small, slightly plump, Hispanic man standing there.

  “Manny!” Rafe said surprised.

  “Rafe. You gonna invite me before I become a Popsicle?” Without waiting for an invitation, Manny pushed past him into the foyer. Rafe gave in and closed the door behind him.

  “There’s my nephew,” Manny said, pointing at Angela and the baby. “Look at that! I knew it! Some father you are! Already the baby’s in a stranger’s hands. I thought we could work it out, but if you’re going to be giving my nephew to strangers—”

  “I’m not a stranger, Mr. Molina,” Angela interrupted.

  “No, she’s not,” Rafe hastened to agree.

  “Then who the hell is she?”

  Rafe looked at Angela, and she at him. Then, astonishing them both, Rafe said, “She’s my fiancée.”

  “Your fiancée?” Angela had dragged Rafe into the kitchen, while Manny stayed in the foyer, claiming she needed help with the baby’s bottle. “Are you crazy? My God, you’re fast with the lies!” She was whispering, albeit angrily, to keep Manny from overhearing.

  “I’m used to working undercover. I lie like a snake. I’ve spoken ten lies for every truth I’ve ever told.” He whispered, too, but she couldn’t tell if the spark in his dark eyes was anger or humor.

  “You said you always tell the truth.”

  “Not if my life or the life of someone I love is on the line.”

  She glared at him. “God. I don’t believe this.”

  “Look, it’s just until we get rid of him, okay? Will that kill you? This isn’t about us, anyway. It’s about the baby.”

  She looked down at the child. After a moment she said, “We’d better make him a bottle. I don’t want to give that worm any excuse to think we’re crazy.”

  He fixed the bottle swiftly and handed it to her. “I’d take him, but I want both my hands free, in case.”

  She didn’t ask what he meant by in case. She would rather have his hands free, too.

  Manny was still waiting in the foyer, and the look he gave them was sharp. “Lovers’ tiff, huh?”

  “No,” said Rafe flatly. “And I don’t think I should be talking to you. In case you’ve forgotten, we’re involved in a lawsuit”

  Manny waved a hand. “My lawyer says the judge is going to throw it out and we’ll have to take it back to Miami. So who is she? Some tramp you picked up?”

  Angela’s arms tightened around the baby. Rafe, she thought, looked as if steam were about to come out his ears.

  “Don’t you talk that way about my fiancée. And it’s none of your business who she is What’s more, my lawyer says the judge isn’t going to throw this case out. So get your butt out of here, Manny, and talk to my lawyer.”

  Something changed in Manny’s gaze, as if he hadn’t expected this response. “Being tough, huh?” he said after a moment. “Well, let me tell you, dumping my nephew on strangers ain’t gonna help you in court. Any court.”

  Rafe didn’t say anything. He simply pointed to the door. After a few seconds Manny turned, muttering, and left.

  “What an obnoxious man,” Angela said when he was gone.

  Rafe turned from the door and looked at her. “I was never very fond of him.”

  “I can see why.”

  “Listen, about this engagement...”

  “There is no engagement.”

  “We both know that, but can we keep that to ourselves?”

  She hesitated, looking guarded. “I won’t lie under oath.”

  “I’m not asking you to. We’re a long way from anyone swearing to anything, anyway. Just...if Manny believes that, he might be even more reluctant to fight this issue to the bitter end.”

  Angela had no idea whether she agreed more because of the baby or because of Rafe. Probably a combination of both, but finally she said, “Okay. Now, if you’ll take the baby and excuse me, I need to go take my afternoon insulin.”

  He smiled as he took Peanut from her. “Thanks, Angel.”

  “Don’t thank me. I’m beginning to think I need to be committed.”

  He watched her go up the stairs and felt a sudden ache in his groin as he watched her hips sway and remembered Saturday afternoon. He wanted her again, desperately, but he didn’t dare touch her. How in hell did he get into these messes, anyway?

  No answers were forthcoming.

  Wanting to cry wasn’t going to help a damn thing, Angela told herself as she checked her blood sugar and prepared her insulin. Being angry wasn’t helping anything, either. Her blood sugar was way too low again. Damn it.

  She grabbed a candy from the dresser, popped it into her mouth and debated whether to take the insulin right now. This entire trip had been arranged to give her some peaceful time to get her diabetes under control, but all it seemed to be doing was putting her back on the blood sugar roller coaster.

  Too much stress. Rafe was driving her nuts. She needed to avoid him as much as possible. Imagine him saying she was his fiancée! Of course, that would be the only way he would ever say such a thing, under duress. It was the only way any man would ever say such a thing about her.

  She wanted to strangle him. For some reason, just hearing him say that had turned her emotions into a maelstrom.

  And if she took her insulin now she would need to head right downstairs and eat, which would mean seeing him again. She didn’t want to see him again. Ever.

  Liar.

  Okay, she was exaggerating. But she didn’t want to go downstairs right now and see him. She needed time first. Time to collect herself and get past this need to either cry her eyes out or kill him.

  What a set of options!

  But one thing was not optional. She needed to take her insulin now, then eat a meal, or she was going to be off schedule for the rest of the day. Giving in, she injected herself, then headed downstairs.

  Rafe was in the kitchen, baby in his arm, talking on the phone. With Nate, she presumed. She tried not to listen but couldn’t prevent herself. Moving around the kitchen, trying to be quiet, she started to prepare lunch for herself. She refused to make any for him. He could damn well take care of himself.

  She noticed her legs were shaky, and she was feeling a little light-head
ed, but she didn’t really pay attention to it. She was listening to Rafe, trying to piece things together. Something about the meeting this afternoon ..something about Manny....

  She fumbled as she tried to peel a few leaves of lettuce off the head she’d taken from the refrigerator. It fell from her hands, and she watched it roll across the floor. Her legs were shaking, and she reached out for a chair...

  The next thing she knew, she was lying on a gurney, wrapped in blankets, snowflakes falling right on her face. Oh, God, she’d done it again Then Rafe’s face hovered over her. “You’re going to the hospital,” he said. “I’ll be there in a few minutes...”

  She thought he kissed her forehead, but she wasn’t sure. The ambulance doors closed, and she was gone again.

  Inside the house, Rafe tore through Angela’s purse, looking for her keys. He found them. Damn, he had to get his car out of the impound lot, where he’d let them tow it to keep it out of Manny’s sight. He should have done that Friday. Hiding from Manny hadn’t accomplished a thing, and now he was without wheels when he most needed them.

  God, she’d been so pale. And when she keeled over like that, his heart had stopped. What if she’d been alone when that happened? He couldn’t bear to think about it.

  The baby. He hated to take Peanut to the hospital with him, but there was no choice. He bundled the child up in winter clothing and set out, scared to death....

  Scared to death. The last time he’d gone to a hospital it had been to get the news that Raquel was dead and he was a father. He had a sudden flashback to standing at Raquel’s grave with the baby, but his mind played a trick and showed him Angela’s name on the tombstone, instead.

  “God, Rocky,” he heard himself say, “we can’t handle this again.”

  We. He and the baby. Neither of them could sustain another loss. And realizing it, he understood that Angela was closer to the child than Raquel had ever had a chance to be. The baby would probably always miss his mother. They said babies knew their mother’s voices and their heartbeats even before birth. But now Peanut was attached to Angela....

  He didn’t want to think about the psychological problems this kid might have from all this loss. He didn’t for one minute believe that babies didn’t know such things. After all, he’d been missing his dad his whole life. A man he couldn’t even remember.

  Which was why it never paid to get attached, right? Right. Peanut was going to have to learn the same hard lesson.

  But, attached or not, whether they ever saw Angela again or not, he couldn’t stand the thought of her dying.

  “She’s not going to die,” he heard himself saying to the baby. “She’s not going to die.”

  He didn’t know whom he was trying to comfort more, himself or his son.

  Nate was already there, in the emergency room waiting area. He reached out and took the baby from Rafe so Rafe could unzip his jacket. “They’ve got her inside,” he said “Doc Randall is working on her.”

  “Was she awake?”

  Nate shook his head.

  Rafe took his son back, clutching the child to his chest. He hadn’t even brought a diaper bag, he realized. Some dad he was. But the small warm body in his arms was a comfort beyond his ability to describe.

  They sat together, the two stranger-brothers. Peanut seemed content to doze in the crook of his father’s arm.

  “Doc says this won’t take long to sort out,” Nate said. “I hope not.”

  “Yeah. I’m not very patient about things like this.”

  Nate reached out and put a comforting hand on Rafe’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay, son. She got here fast.”

  Rafe closed his eyes a moment. “She just fell over. Like a tree falling. And her face was so white....”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, Manny showed up at the house. I guess it was stressful. She took her run earlier this morning, but as cold as it was...”

  Nate nodded encouragingly, so Rafe continued “I don’t know much about this disease, but I’m wondering if the cold didn’t make her sugar lower than she expected. Then we had this little argument, and she went upstairs to take more insulin. Then she came down and was making lunch and...bam!”

  “I have a feeling that even with the best efforts in the world, this disease gets out of control sometimes. Don’t blame yourself.”

  Rafe looked at Nate, surprised the man had read him so well. “I’ve got plenty to blame myself for.”

  “We all do. Which is why we shouldn’t go around taking on guilt over things that aren’t under our control. What did you want to talk to me about, anyway?”

  For an instant Rafe couldn’t even remember. Then, in a burst of self-loathing, he told Nate the whole sordid story, leaving nothing out. “Well,” he said, “you might as well know the worst. The whole reason I came up here was because I wanted to discover what kind of person you were.”

  “Hardly surprising. I’d have done the same thing myself if I’d known about you.”

  Rafe shook his head, suddenly hating himself more than he ever had. “I never would have, except for the kid. I couldn’t handle the baby and work the streets, so I thought...I thought...”

  “That maybe if your brother was a decent, upstanding person, he might take the baby?” Nate asked the question, his tone revealing nothing at all, except that the idea didn’t surprise him.

  Rafe looked away. Hearing his own unforgivable thoughts on Nate’s lips didn’t make them sound any better.

  Nate spoke again. “But you don’t want to do that anymore, do you, son?”

  Rafe shook his head, decided he was worm sludge. Lower than snail tracks.

  Nate took his hand from Rafe’s shoulder, and Rafe felt the absence painfully. Now Nate would tell him just what a bucket of sewer sludge he really was, and he deserved every word of it. He waited for the ax to fall, looking down at the son he couldn’t believe he had ever wanted to give away.

  Nate spoke. “Years ago, back when I was still a kid, I got Marge pregnant. I didn’t know it.”

  Rafe’s ears pricked up.

  “Anyway,” Nate continued, “I went off to war before she knew about it, ‘cause I promise you, if she’d told me, I’d’ve married her then and there if I’d’a had to hold her daddy at gunpoint to get him to agree. But I didn’t know, and when she found out, her daddy sent her away to live with a cousin. She was only sixteen, and back then nice girls didn’t get pregnant out of wedlock.”

  Rafe managed a nod, listening intently.

  “So, anyway, her dad threw my letters away, and the ones she wrote to me never got to me, probably because her dad and her cousin were throwing them away instead of mailing them—which is why I still hate her cousin to this day. But that’s neither here nor there. I was reported dead, Marge never got any letters from me...so she gave the baby up for adoption.”

  Rafe turned to look at Nate, forgetting his own misery for a moment. The older man’s face was shadowed with old pain, and he wanted to reach out, but he didn’t know how.

  “Marge never told me about the kid. Even when I got home. Even after we got married. Her dad told her not to, because there was nothing I could do about it. It would only cause me pain, he said. And Marge couldn’t see that it would do any good at all.”

  “But you found out.”

  Nate nodded. “One day, some twenty-seven years later, this young man showed up on my doorstep, looking for his birth parents. That’s how I found out.”

  “My God!” Rafe could scarcely imagine it.

  Nate shifted, looking as if he was shaking off a memory. “Anyway, to make a long story short, I got over the fact that she gave the boy up a lot faster than I got over the fact that she lied to me all those years. I could understand why she didn’t keep the baby, but I sure as hell couldn’t understand why she lied. I made an ass of myself over that, I’ll tell you. Had half the county wondering if I’d lost my marbles.”

  “I can imagine.”

  Nate’s
eyes met Rafe’s, sharp and intent. “What I’m saying here, son, is that I can understand why you thought of finding someone to take the baby. And you didn’t just hand him to a stranger, you wanted to give him to someone you could trust. Nothing wrong with that, not under the circumstances. But I would mightily appreciate it if you’d never lie to me again about important things. Not even by omission.”

  “I wasn’t lying,” Rafe said. “By the time I got here, I pretty much knew I couldn’t give the kid up, not even to you.”

  Nate nodded. “Okay, then’. I don’t see that you did anything wrong at all. Now, if you want Marge and me to take the baby for a few weeks or months while you figure out how to settle things, that’s fine. And if you still wanted us to take him for good, we would. We’re family, son. We don’t leave family hanging in the breeze. It just ain’t done that way.”

  Rafe’s throat was suddenly so tight he couldn’t speak. He managed a nod and looked down at the baby, wondering crazily if he would ever grow up to be a man like Nate Tate.

  The worst part about not being related, Rafe discovered, was that the doctor wouldn’t tell him or Nate anything about Angela’s medical condition. The most they got was, “She’s going to be all right. You should be able to take her home in an hour or so.”

  “Which I guess is as good as we can ask for,” Nate said. He turned to Rafe. “If you want to take the baby home, I’ll drive her when they let her go.”

  But Rafe couldn’t bring himself to do that. “We’ll be all right. I’ll take her home.”

  Nate nodded. “Okay, then. I’ll head on back to work.”

  “Wait a moment. There was something else I needed to tell you. I spoke with an attorney this morning.”

  Nate nodded. “And?”

  “She says if I say I’m asking you to care for the child for a while, until I get my life sorted out, we can fight the custody case here. And that she thinks there isn’t a single judge or jury in this town who’d give custody to Manny when you’re an option and I’m your brother.”