Engaged to the Single Mom

by Lee Tobin McClain

  Camden studied him. “I’m supposed to believe that? When you were engaged and spending practically every evening together?”

  “It’s not up to me what you believe,” Troy said, “but it’s the truth. Angelica and I had decided to wait until marriage.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. “Why she decided to change that plan, and with whom, I have no idea. But it wasn’t me.”

  Camden crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “Guessin’ that don’t sit right,” he said finally. “I always thought it was you. Thought you’d gotten her pregnant and then sent her away. But when you said you were marrying her now, you really threw me off.”

  Troy drew in a breath. “So you don’t know what happened, who the father is?” He knew he shouldn’t probe, should only discuss this with Angelica, but it felt like important information, and she wouldn’t tell him. Maybe if he knew...

  Camden shook his head. “Can’t help you there.”

  “Come see this, Gramps!” Xavier was calling, and the two of them headed over just in time to stop him from squirting an entire container of ketchup into the sink. Plenty had gotten onto his shirt and shorts as well, and the two of them looked at each other with guilty expressions, obviously thinking the same thing: we’re going to be in trouble with Angelica. A few paper towels later, they headed toward the gym.

  “Do you know how to play basketball, Mr. Troy?”

  “I sure do. I used to play at this school.”

  “Were you that tall then?”

  Troy laughed. “No, son. I wasn’t very tall at all.”

  “He was a pip-squeak. A lot smaller than you. I remember him in those days.”

  That hadn’t occurred to Troy before, that Homer Camden had known him as a kid. On a whim, Troy put down his crutches. Camden grabbed a basketball, and they took turns lifting Xavier up to shoot baskets.

  When they headed back toward the classroom, Xavier rested his hand on Troy’s crutch again.

  Which made Troy feel that all was right with the world. When had this boy put such a hold on his heart, enough to make him even see the good in Homer Camden?

  * * *

  When Xavier walked into the classroom between Troy and Gramps, tears sprang to Angelica’s eyes. It felt as if all of her dreams were coming true.

  She’d always wished her son could have a real father. And she’d hoped he could go to a regular school. It hadn’t happened for kindergarten, because of all of his treatments, so this was his first opportunity.

  “Hey, cool!” Xavier ran into the room and sat down at one of the desks. “I’m ready!”

  “And is your name Sammy?” asked Ms. Hayashi.

  Angelica was pretty sure she liked this teacher, who turned out to be the friend who’d come to the kennel with Daisy. She seemed very knowledgeable about children with medical issues, and her educational background was impeccable.

  Her tight jeans, Harley-Davidson T-shirt and biker boots weren’t everyone’s idea of a first-grade teacher, even one who was at the school early to move books and set up her classroom. From Gramps’s raised eyebrows, she could tell he thought the same. Angelica hoped the woman wouldn’t intimidate Xavier.

  But her son put his hands on his hips and spoke right up. “I’m not Sammy, I’m Xavier!”

  “Aha. And do you know what letter your name starts with?” The woman squatted effortlessly in front of Xavier.

  Xavier nodded eagerly. “An X, and I can write it, too!”

  His enthusiasm made Angelica smile. They’d been practicing letters for months, and she’d taught him to write his name, but it had taken quite a while. His treatment had caused some cognitive issues that might or might not go away, according to the various nurses and social workers they’d dealt with.

  “That’s good. Can you find your desk?”

  “How can I...”

  The woman put a hand to her lips, took Xavier’s hand and pointed to the sign on the front of the desk where he’d been sitting. “See? It’s Ssssammy,” she said, emphasizing the S. “What we need to do is to find your desk, the one that says “Xavier.”

  He frowned and nodded. “With an X.”

  “Yes, like this.” She held her fingers crossed.

  Xavier did the same with his hands. “I remember. Your nails are cool. I like purple.”

  “Me, too. Let’s find that X.”

  So far, the woman hadn’t even said hello to Troy or Gramps, but Angelica didn’t care. She was impressed by Ms. Hayashi’s educational focus and by how much learning was already taking place.

  If only her son would remain healthy enough to benefit from it.

  He’d woken up with a fever several mornings this week, which filled her with the starkest terror. Fear of relapse stalked every parent of a cancer kid. But, according to Dr. Lewis, all they could do was wait and see.

  “Come see my new desk, Mr. Troy!”

  Troy limped over, and Angelica followed, her arm around Gramps. Who didn’t look as disgruntled as he had looked before. As Xavier showed with pride how the desk opened and closed, and Troy pretended amazement over the schoolbooks inside, Angelica snapped pictures and pondered.

  She’d wanted Xavier to have a male role model. And maybe he already did.

  Chapter Nine

  Angelica was paying bills the next Saturday morning—thanking God for the job that allowed her to—when she heard a tapping on the door. Her heart did a double thump. Since she hadn’t heard a car drive up, it had to be Troy.

  They hadn’t talked since their visit to Xavier’s classroom and the closeness that had come out of that. She didn’t know what to think of their up-and-down relationship. One minute he was mad at her about Buck, and then the next day he was acting like the sweetest father Xavier could possibly have, making her fall hard for him.

  “Hey.” Outlined in the early morning sunlight, his well-worn jeans and faded T-shirt made him look as young as when they’d been engaged. But now his shoulders bulged with the muscles of someone who ran a farm and lifted heavy animals and equipment. Running her hands up those arms, over his shoulders, as she’d done back then...it would feel totally different now.

  “Hey yourself.” When her words came out low, husky, she looked away and cleared her throat. “What’s up? Everything okay at the kennels?”

  He blinked. “The kennels are fine, but I wondered if you could help me with Bull.” He nodded downward, and for the first time she realized that the bulldog was sitting patiently beside him, his wrinkly face framed by his recovery collar.

  “Hey, big guy!” Feeling strangely warm, she knelt down to pet Bull, and he obligingly pushed up into a crooked standing position and wagged his stub of a tail.

  “Is he okay?” She looked up at Troy. Man, was he handsome!

  “He’s doing pretty well. I can’t tell for sure until the stitches are out, and it’s time to do that. Then we’ll see how he gets around.”

  He was saying it all without taking his eyes off her, and the intensity in his gaze seemed to be about more than the dog.

  She looked down, focusing on Bull, feeling confused. Between her own feelings and the way Troy was looking at her, she was starting to feel as though they had an actual relationship.

  Except they didn’t. It was all about business and Xavier. Because if Troy knew the truth about her and her past and why she’d left, he’d never have anything to do with her. And what kind of relationship could you build on secrets and shame?

  Back to business. “I need to get Xavier up and give him some breakfast,” she said. “When were you thinking?”

  He shrugged. “Whenever.”

  Something about the way he said it made her think of him rattling around his big house. Weekends could be so lonely when you were single. She knew it well, but at least she’
d always had Xavier. “Would you...would you want to have breakfast with us first? I can make us something.”

  His face lit up. “Sure would. I’m strictly a cold cereal guy when I’m trusting my own cooking, but I do like breakfast food.”

  “Pancakes are my specialty.” She didn’t add that there’d been many nights when pancakes were all they could afford for dinner. “You go wake up Xavier. He’ll love the surprise of it.”

  “Even better, how about if Bull and I wake him up together? We could probably even take the stitches out right here, if you don’t mind my using your front porch as an exam room.”

  “Perfect.” They smiled at each other as the sunlight came in the windows, their gazes connecting just a little too long. And then Angelica spun away and walked toward the kitchen, weak-kneed, her smile widening to where it almost hurt.

  Half an hour later, she looked around the kitchen table and joy rose in her. Xavier was just starting to sprout a few patches of hair and his grin stretched wide. Troy sniffed appreciatively at the steaming platter of pancakes. Beneath the table, Bull sighed and flopped onto his side.

  “Let’s pray,” she suggested, and they all took hands while Xavier recited a short blessing. Then she dished up pancakes and warm syrup to all of them.

  “Delicious,” Troy said around a mouthful.

  “Mom’s a good cook.”

  He swallowed. “Obviously.” Then, a few bites later: “I’m impressed that you sit down at the table for meals and start them with prayer.”

  Angelica chuckled. “I could let you go on thinking we do that at every meal, but the truth is, there are plenty of nights when we eat off the coffee table and watch Fresh Prince reruns.”

  “Yeah, that’s fun!” Xavier shoved another bite into his mouth.

  “And we don’t always remember to pray, either. I’m not a perfect mom or a perfect Christian.”

  Troy put a hand over hers. “Perfectly imperfect.”

  Yeah, if only you knew.

  Later, Troy went and got his exam bag and then called Bull out to the porch, putting his crutches aside and lifting the dog down the hard-to-maneuver step. In every painstaking move, she saw his care for the old bulldog.

  She got Xavier involved in a new video game, then went outside and petted Bull while Troy gathered his materials for removing stitches. “Hey, buddy, you gonna get your fancy collar off, huh?”

  As if answering her, Bull pawed at the recovery collar that formed a huge bell around his neck.

  “I’m going to try him without it,” Troy said. “It’s been driving him crazy, and he can’t get around that well with it on. Depends on whether he’ll leave the leg alone.”

  He put his hand on the dog and turned to her. “Angelica, I have to apologize.”

  She tipped her head to the side. “For what?”

  “For going off on you that day. You were right. This guy wouldn’t have survived without my having Buck to help me. I owe you.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “You were quick to judge.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry. I’m kind of a Neanderthal where you’re concerned.” He looked at her with a possessive intensity that flooded her with warmth.

  Troy had grown, for sure. He could see when he was wrong and apologize. And he definitely had a softer heart these days. It looked as if he was blinking back tears when he gazed down at his old dog.

  She didn’t dare focus on what else his words evoked in her.

  Troy removed Bull’s stitches with skilled hands while she held the dog’s head still and murmured soothing words. But as Troy examined the dog’s leg more carefully, moving it back and forth, he frowned. “The range of movement isn’t good,” he said. “This is what my buddy the specialist warned me about. Once he starts to walk on it, I’m worried what will happen.”

  “Is there anything we can do?”

  “Not right now,” he said, still moving Bull’s leg, intensely focused. “We’ll have to watch him for a few more days, see how he does when he’s free to move around.”

  After the stitches were removed, Angelica insisted on carrying Bull back to Troy’s house. She’d noticed how badly Troy was limping, and it wouldn’t do for him to ditch his crutches and carry Bull himself.

  As she knelt beside Bull’s crate, helping the dog settle in and petting him, Troy came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. After an initial flinch, she relaxed into his touch. Which felt amazing.

  “So you were right about getting Buck’s help and I was wrong,” he said. “But I’m right about something else. Will you listen to me?”

  She kept petting Bull, superaware of Troy’s hand on her shoulder. “Okay.”

  “I want to take Xavier to a new doctor for his physical tomorrow.”

  She let go of Bull and scooted around to look at Troy. “What?”

  “I found a new doctor for Xavier,” he repeated. “We scored big-time. Great cancer doctor, hard to get, but he’s an old friend of mine from college so I called in a favor. He’s at the Cleveland Clinic, just about an hour and fifteen minutes away.”

  Before she could analyze her own response, it was out of her mouth. “No.”

  “What?” He looked startled.

  “He likes the doctor we’ve started seeing here. I’d rather go to him. Anyway, it’s just a simple physical for school and sports.” She stood. “And I have to get back to Xavier.”

  He grabbed his crutches and held the door for her. “I’ll walk with you if you’ll listen.”

  “I listened. And then I said no.” She started walking back toward the bunkhouse.

  He followed. “Angelica, this is a really good doctor. Someone who specializes in leukemia.”

  “No.”

  “Wait.” He turned toward her, leaning on his crutches, and looked hard into her eyes. “Why not? Why really?”

  She looked away from his intensity. Why didn’t she want a great new cancer doctor for Xavier? She took in a deep breath and started walking again. “Because I’m scared.”

  He fell into step beside her. “Of what? It can only be good for Xavier.”

  She stared at the hard dirt beneath their feet. “What if this doesn’t work out?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She glanced over at him. The morning they’d spent together, the delight of Xavier’s happiness, of Troy’s appreciation for her cooking, all of it made this so hard to say. “Look, I know the chances of us—you and me, this so-called engagement—making it are fifty-fifty at best. So what if we don’t? What if you decide you don’t want to go through with the marriage, or even if we do go through with it, that you don’t want to stay? What are Xavier and I supposed to do then?”

  He stared at her and then, slowly, shook his head. “You don’t trust me, do you?”

  “It’s not you necessarily.” She shrugged. “But why would you stick with us? What’s in it for you? People don’t just do things out of the goodness of their hearts.”

  They’d reached the bunkhouse porch, and he waited while she climbed the steps, then hopped up behind her. “What world have you been living in? Around here, people do things to help others all the time.”

  “Sure, give them a ride or watch their dog when they go on vacation. But marry someone? Stand by a kid with serious health issues? That’s way, way beyond the call of duty, Troy. I appreciate your willingness, and for Xavier’s sake, I have to give it a try. But—”

  He tugged her down onto the porch swing and then sat next to her, held out a hand to touch her chin, ran his thumb ever so lightly over her lips. “Really? It’s just for Xavier’s sake?”

  She stared at him, willing herself to stay still and explore the mix of feelings that his touch evoked. But she couldn’t handle it. She scooted away and stood, and at a safe distance, pacing, she
switched back to a safer topic. “Xavier hates changing doctors. If our relationship doesn’t work, I certainly can’t afford a fancy specialist. So that’s why I’d rather just stick with the doctor we’ve been going to since we moved here.”

  “So you’d rather go with safe and mediocre.”

  “Dr. Lewis comes highly recommended,” she protested.

  “By whom?”

  “Gramps and his friends.” At his expression, she flared up. “I know you don’t like Gramps, but he’s been in the area forever, and all of his friends have medical issues, as does he. They know doctors.”

  “Geriatric doctors, not pediatricians. Look, this is a great opportunity. He’ll get the athletic physical times ten. We’re really blessed to see this guy, Ange.”

  Ange. It was what he’d called her when they were engaged, and hearing it thrust her back to that time. His excitement did, too.

  Back then, she would have joined in readily, would have shared his optimism; she’d have been eager to try something new and take a risk.

  But now, given her life experiences since that time, her stomach clenched. “I think Dr. Lewis will be just fine.”

  “Not really.” He was getting serious now, leaning in, crossing his arms. “I asked around about Dr. Lewis. He’s been in practice forty years. He isn’t likely to be up on the latest research.”

  Angelica’s spine stiffened and she felt her face getting hot. “I researched all the CHIP-eligible doctors within fifty miles. He’s by far the best of those.”

  “Of those.” His tone had gone gentle. “I’m not questioning that you did the best you could—”

  “He seems really experienced. And Xavier liked him when we went when we first arrived in town.”

  He sighed. “Look, I just don’t understand why you’re not excited about this. It’s a chance for your son to have the very best care around. Don’t you want that?”

  “Of course I do,” she said, forcing herself not to strangle the guy. “But listen, would you? It’s hard for Xavier to handle a new doctor. He’s suffered through a lot of them. I don’t want to make a change when it might not be permanent.”