Engaged to the Single Mom

by Lee Tobin McClain

  “Let him try to handle it himself,” Troy said.

  She yanked away. “He can’t fight that kid! Look at the size difference!”

  “Just watch.” Troy’s voice was still mild, but there was a note of command that halted her. “Wendell always pulls his punches, so don’t worry.”

  Clenching her fist, still primed to run to her son, she paused.

  Xavier smiled up guilelessly at the other boy. “Hey, I’m sorry my ball hit you. My pitching stinks.”

  “Leave him alone, Wendell. He’s just a kid.” One of the other boys put an arm around Xavier.

  The bigger boy drew in a breath, and then his fisted hand dropped. “Yeah, well, don’t hit me again. Or else.”

  One of the puppies jumped into the mix, and as if no threat had ever existed, the group broke into a kaleidoscope of colorful balls and yipping puppies and running boys.

  As her adrenaline slowly dissipated, Angelica leaned against the wall of the barn and sank down to a sitting position.

  “I want to go give Wendell some positive feedback. He’s getting better about controlling his anger.”

  “I’m still working on that myself,” she snapped at him, but halfheartedly. She knew it was good for Xavier to socialize with other kids, but these rough-around-the-edges boys scared her.

  She watched Troy walk over and speak briefly with Wendell and then clap him on the back. Xavier, completely unmoved by his near brush with getting the tar kicked out of him, was rolling with one of the puppies.

  Taking deep breaths, she willed herself to calm down. She hated the way Troy was high-handed with her, but after all, he was right, wasn’t he? Xavier had handled the situation himself just fine and was fitting in nicely with the other boys. If she’d run in to save him, that might not be the case.

  A few minutes later, Troy came back and sat down beside her. “You mad at me?”

  “Yes and no.” She watched as one of the other boys threw a ball back and forth with Xavier. The other boy was older; in fact, most of the boys were, but Xavier was holding his own. It reminded her of what a good athlete he could be.

  If he got the chance.

  And that was where Troy had been incredibly, incredibly helpful. “Listen,” she said. “I don’t necessarily like being told how to mother my kid, but there are times when you’re right.” She smiled up at him. “Dr. Ravi called today.”

  Troy’s head jerked toward her, his face lighting up. “And?”

  “And Xavier gets into the trial.”

  “That’s fantastic!” He threw his arms around her.

  No, no, no. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t survive, couldn’t stand it. She pushed hard at his brawny chest.

  “Hey, fine, sorry!” He dropped his arms immediately and scooted backward, his eyebrows shooting up.

  She gulped air. “It’s fine. I’m sorry. I just...” Blinking rapidly, she came back from remembered darkness—something she’d had years of practice at doing—and offered Troy a shaky smile. “I’m so grateful that you made us see Dr. Ravi. He’s wonderful. And I like that he’s going forward aggressively with the treatment. I really, really want Xavier to have it. This could make all the difference.”

  “I’m glad.” Troy continued to look a little puzzled. “But you’re still mad at me?”

  Mad wasn’t the word. She knew she should launch into the talk she’d promised Lou Ann she’d have with Troy. She looked out across the fields and breathed deeply of the farm-scented air.

  And changed the subject. “Look, I know I’m overprotective. It kind of comes with the territory of parenting a seriously ill child.”

  “Of course.”

  “And I was worried about that bigger kid hitting him. Xavier tends to bruise and bleed easily, or he did when he was in active disease. I try to make sure he doesn’t fall a lot and all that.”

  “Should I have stopped them? I struggle with how much to intervene and how much to let them work it out themselves so they can build better social skills.” He studied his hands, clasped between his upraised knees. “Thing is, a lot of these boys are out on their own much of the time. I spend such a small fraction of their lives with them. So I feel like they need to practice solving some of their conflicts themselves. We usually talk it over in group, after they’ve gotten some of their energy out.” He shrugged. “I’m just a vet with a heart to help kids. I don’t know sometimes if I’m doing it right.”

  “You do a great job,” she said warmly.

  “Thanks.” And then he was looking at her again, and she spoke nervously to make the moment pass. “Parenting is like that for me. I never know if there’s something I should do differently. Xavier’s going to go to school, and he’ll have to learn to handle the playground himself. I won’t be there to intervene for him, so I guess that’s something I’d better get used to.”

  “We can help each other out. We’re a good partnership.” He reached out and squeezed her shoulder.

  She cringed away instinctively. And when she saw the hurt look on his face, she felt awful.

  She opened her mouth to apologize and then closed it again. What was she going to say? How could she explain?

  Nervously she pulled a bandanna out of her pocket and wiped off her suddenly sweaty neck and face. The thing was, she didn’t know if she was going to get over this, ever. Being touched was hard for her. Oh, she could hug Xavier, did that all the time, and his childish affection was a balm to her spirit. When she stayed with Aunt Dot right after being assaulted, and indeed for years afterward until that wonderful woman had died a year ago, they’d shared hugs galore. And her girlfriends were always hugging on her and plenty of nurses had let her weep in their arms.

  Female nurses.

  It was only when a man hugged her that she freaked out.

  Troy was regarding her seriously. His blue eyes showed hurt and some anger, too. “Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “I guess I didn’t realize how much you... Well, how much you don’t want me near you. That’s a problem. How are we...” He broke off, got awkwardly to his feet, favoring his hurt leg. “I better go check on the boys.”

  He limped off and she wanted to call him back, to apologize, to say she’d work on it, really she would. But the thing was, it had been seven years and she still wasn’t over the assault.

  She hadn’t been motivated to get over it before because she hadn’t dated anyone and she hadn’t wanted a man around.

  But Troy was doing so much for them. Moreover, when he touched her, she felt something uncurl within her, and that as much as anything made her shy away.

  There’d been plenty of chemistry between them when they were engaged. Now, though, everything felt different.

  She stared absently out at cornfields with tassels almost head high. Above her, the sky shone deep blue with puffy clouds.

  She’d seen a counselor right along with her obstetrician, at her aunt’s insistence, and the woman had been wonderful and had helped her a lot. But Angelica hadn’t wanted to date. Hadn’t wanted to open herself up to love—and the accompanying dangers and risks—again.

  Still didn’t, if the truth be told. She’d rather stay in her safe, comfortable little shell. But Troy was so good with Xavier, and Xavier needed a dad. Holding back like this was selfish of her. She had to fix this.

  If she wanted to love again, a part of loving was hugging and kissing and all the intimate physicality created by the same God who’d made the corn and the sky and the sweaty little boys and jumping, bounding dogs in front of her.

  She let her head drop into her hands. Lord, I can’t do this myself. Please help me heal. Help me learn to love.

  Slowly, as she listened for God’s voice, as she breathed in the wonders of His creation, she felt herself relaxing. She didn’t know if it would work for her. She certainly didn’t want to tell
Troy the reasons for her pain, because she knew he would judge her.

  But maybe God would give her a pass on that. Maybe He’d let her have this relationship and let Xavier have a dad—a dad who could do amazing things with his connections, who could actually help Xavier heal—and she wouldn’t have to tell Troy the sordid side of her past. Wouldn’t have to tell him about her own culpability in what had happened to her.

  Because no matter what her therapist had said, Angelica knew the truth. She’d gotten drunk and silly and flirty, and she’d been mad at Troy for not coming out to celebrate her birthday, and she’d been flattered when a handsome older man wanted to walk her home.

  It wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t nice, and she’d regret it for the rest of her life.

  God in His amazing excellence had turned it to good. God had brought her Xavier and he was the purpose of her life now, the thing that gave it meaning. And she, flawed as she was, loved him as fiercely as any mother could love any child, despite his bad beginning. God had done that much for them, overlooking her sins.

  She could only hope and pray that He’d heal her enough to let her go forward with the marriage to Troy.

  * * *

  Troy strode away from Angelica and out toward the driveway. He just needed a minute to himself.

  Apparently, though, he wasn’t going to get it, because heading toward him was a police cruiser. Like any red-blooded American male who’d occasionally driven faster than he should, he tensed...until he realized that Dion was at the wheel.

  Even seeing his friend didn’t make him smile as he walked up to the driver’s-side window.

  “What’s wrong with you, old man?”

  Troy shrugged. He’d talk to Dion about almost anything, they were those kinds of friends, but there was a time and a place. “What brings you out my way? You’re working nights. You should be home catching Zs.”

  “Yeah, had an issue.” Dion jerked his head toward the backseat and lowered the rear window.

  There, on a towel, was the saddest-looking white pit bull Troy had ever seen. Ears down, cringing against the backseat, quivering, skin and bones.

  Troy’s heart twisted.

  “Found her chained to an abandoned house. You got your work cut out for you with this one.”

  Troy opened the rear car door and wasn’t really surprised when the dog shrank against the back of the seat and bared her teeth. “Problem is, I’ve got the Kennel Kids here today.”

  “I know you do. I’m gonna help out for a bit while you take care of this little mama. Those boys could use an hour with a cop who’s not out to arrest them.”

  Troy focused in on the word mama. “She’s pregnant?”

  “Oh yeah. It rains, it pours.”

  Troy drew in a breath and let it out in a sigh. “Okay. Lemme run get a crate and—”

  Shaking his head, Dion turned off the engine and got out. “Can’t crate her, man. She freaks.”

  “How’d you get her into the cruiser?” As always, when there was a hurting animal nearby, Troy went into superfocus, forgetting everything else, trying to figure out how to help it. He braced his hands on the car roof and leaned in, studying the dog.

  Dion gave his trademark low chuckle. “One of the guys had a sandwich left over from lunch.”

  “Gotcha. Be right back.”

  Minutes later, with the help of a piece of chicken, the dog was out of the cruiser and in one of the runs right beside where the boys were playing.

  “See what you can do, my man,” Dion said, then strode over to the group of boys in the field, who went silent at the sight of the tall, dark-skinned man in full uniform.

  Troy watched for a minute. Angelica was with them, and he saw her greet Dion. The two of them spoke, and then Dion squatted down to pet one of the dogs.

  A couple of the boys came closer. Dion greeted them and apparently made some kind of a joke, because the boys laughed.

  So that would be okay. Dion was great with kids; in fact, some of these boys probably knew him pretty well already, though not for as innocent a reason as his visit here today.

  Using treats, Troy tried to get the dog to relax and come to him, but she cowered as far away as possible. From this distance, he could see her distended belly and swollen teats. She’d probably give birth in a week or two.

  Xavier, for one, would be excited. He loved the puppies best, and though he was having a blast with the ones already here, watching them grow and playing with them, new babies would thrill him beyond belief. For that reason, Troy was glad they had a mama dog, though he had to wonder about this one’s story.

  Right on schedule, his sister pulled into the driveway. She helped with the Kennel Kids whenever she could.

  “C’mere, Lily.” On an impulse he named the dog for her white coat, even if she was more gray than white at the moment. He threw a treat to within a few inches of her nose, and she made several moves toward it, then jerked back. Finally she dove far enough forward to grab the dog biscuit and retreat, and he praised her lavishly. Still when he moved toward her, she backed away, growling.

  He settled in, back against the fence, watching the boys, Dion, Angelica and his sister.

  Dion said something to Angelica and she laughed, and Troy felt a burning in his chest. Would Angelica go for his best friend?

  A year older than Troy, Dion had been a little more suave with the ladies when they played football together in high school. But Troy had never felt jealous of the man...until this moment.

  He tried to stifle the feeling, but that just made his heart rate go up, made him madder. Yeah, he was possessive, especially where Angelica was concerned. Nothing to be proud of, but the truth.

  He watched Angelica and noticed that, while she was friendly to Dion, she kept a good few feet between them. Not like his sister, who often put an affectionate hand on Dion’s arm or fist-bumped him after a joke.

  Relief trickled in. Looked as though Angelica wasn’t attracted.

  He tossed another treat to the dog, and this time she dove for it and ate it immediately. He scooted a couple of feet closer, still staying low so he didn’t look big and threatening to her. She let out a low growl but didn’t attack.

  He tossed another treat halfway between them, and the dog considered a moment, then crept forward to grab it.

  He reached out toward the dog with a piece of food in his hand. This was a risk, as he might get bitten, but he figured it wasn’t likely. He had a sense about this one. She wanted help.

  A moment later, his instinct was rewarded when she accepted food out of his hand.

  He fed her several more pieces and then reached toward her. She backed away, a low growl vibrating in her chest.

  Righteous anger rose in him. He’d like to strangle the person who’d mistreated this sweet dog. Maybe ruined her for a home with a family. Fear did awful things to an animal.

  Or a person.

  It hit him like a two-by-four to the brain.

  The dog was reacting the way Angelica reacted.

  It was pretty obvious why, in the dog’s case: people had treated her badly, and she’d learned to be afraid.

  So who’d been mean to Angelica? What had they done? And when?

  He jumped up, moved toward the dog and she lunged at him, teeth bared. He backed away immediately. He should know better than to approach a scared dog when he was feeling this agitated; she could sense it.

  Had Angelica been abused or attacked?

  No, not possible. He spun around and marched over to the kennels, grabbed a water bowl for the dog, filled it.

  He had no idea what had gone on in Angelica’s life in the years they’d been apart. She could very well have gotten into a bad relationship. And given that she’d apparently been poor, she could have lived in bad areas where risks were hi
gh and safety wasn’t guaranteed.

  He needed to talk to his social-worker sister. He took the water bowl back to the new dog’s run and set it down, keeping a good distance from her. Then he beckoned to Daisy.

  She came right over. “Hey, bro, what’s happening with Xavier and Angelica? Did you find out about the cancer trial?”

  “Xavier got in. We’re pretty happy.”

  Hands on hips, she studied him. “Then what’s eating you?”

  “You know me too well. And you understand women, and I don’t.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “What’s up?”

  He looked out at the cornfields. “If a woman was...abused, say, or attacked...how would she react? Wouldn’t she tell people what happened?”

  Daisy cocked her head to one side. “Probably, but maybe not. Why?”

  “Why wouldn’t she tell?”

  “Well...”

  He could see her social work training kick in as she thought about it.

  “Sometimes women are ashamed. Sometimes their attacker threatens them. Sometimes they’re in denial, or they just want to bury it.”

  He nodded. “Okay, it makes sense that they might not want to report it, to have it be common knowledge. But if they have close family or friends who would help them...”

  “Are you talking about a rape?”

  The word slammed into him. And the doors of his mind slammed shut. That couldn’t have happened. Not to Angelica. Please, God, no.

  Daisy crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at him. “Whatever you’re thinking, you need to talk to that person about it. Not to me.”

  He nodded, because he couldn’t speak.

  “So go do it.”

  He drew in a breath, sighed it out. “Cone of silence?”

  “Of course.”

  Slowly he walked over to where Dion leaned against a fence, talking to a rapt group of boys. Angelica knelt a short distance away beside the pen they’d made to keep Bull safe from too much activity but still included in the fun. She was rubbing the old dog’s belly, praising him for how his leg was healing, telling him he’d feel better soon. She looked pensive and beautiful and she didn’t hear him coming.