Three Boys And A Baby (American Romance)

by Laura Marie Altom

  She then made the mistake of looking Jackson’s way. He held Rose in his arms; both were bathed in golden sunlight. Mouth dry, throat aching from wanting something she could never have and still live with herself, she turned to the counter.

  There were cooled cupcakes to frost in Key Elementary School’s red, white and blue colors. The task would make for a perfect distraction.

  “Is it just me,” Jackson said, unfortunately from close enough behind her that she felt his radiated heat, “or does this angel get cuter every day?”

  “Jackson,” she said in a voice scratchy from the effort of holding back tears. “I meant what I said about not being a party to ruining Dillon’s life.”

  “Um, correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t Julie already do that? Why do either of us have to pay for her sins? All I’m suggesting is that you and I go on a few dates. Maybe even without four kids. Is that so scandalous?”

  “No, but—” She dabbed a few squirts of red food coloring into a bowl of white frosting and stirred. Unfortunately, it only turned pink. She squirted in more and more, but the frosting still never got close to Key Cardinal Red. Why was it that her disastrous personal life felt the same? As though she could put as much effort as possible into forging a friendship with Jackson, but it didn’t matter, as her conscience would never allow them to progress to a level anywhere near the perfection she sensed they might otherwise obtain.

  Giving up, she dropped the spoon against the bowl’s side, then rested her elbows on the counter and her forehead in her hands.

  “Do you want me to leave?” Jackson asked, still behind her. He smelled of a hint of spicy aftershave, and Rose’s pink baby lotion.

  “Yes.” No!

  “All right. I have no intention of sticking around where I’m not wanted.”

  “It’s not that,” Ella said on the heels of a frustrated groan. Spinning to face him, she said, “I know what you mean—about being happy whenever you’re around. There’s something about you, maybe the fact that we shared similarly crappy marriages, that makes me feel I can trust you. But even beyond that, when we first learned the boys had run away, you radiated a quiet strength and determination to make everything okay that I’ve never seen in anyone else.”

  “I have.” Free hand cupping her cheek, he said, “I’ve seen it in you. That’s why we’ve got this connection. My grandmother used to call it a case of kindred spirits.”

  “That’s all well and good,” she said, “but is that the line you’re going to feed Dillon when he asks why you’re with me instead of his mother?”

  SATURDAY AFTERNOON, while Julie had gone off in search of a restroom, Jackson stood in line with Dillon to buy corn dogs. They were spending the day at a neighboring town’s annual arts and crafts fair, but so far, he and his son had seen far more food than art. The weather was fine with only a few high clouds and plenty of warm, but not yet hot, sun. A ragtime band played in a gazebo, lending a festive spirit to the bustling crowd.

  “Having fun?” Jackson asked, moving up in line.

  “Uh-huh.” Dillon popped a gum bubble that stuck to his cheeks. In true kid form, he peeled it off, then crammed it back in his mouth. “This is the best day I’ve ever had in my whooole life.”

  Rubbing his son’s shoulders, Jackson asked, “What about the time we went fishing in Colorado?”

  “Nope. This is better.”

  “Why? I thought catching all those trout was pretty cool.”

  “It was,” Dillon said, temporarily stepping out of line to spit his gum in the trash. “But Mom wasn’t with us, so since she is here today, that makes it lots better.”

  “Oh.” Jackson wished with every fiber of his being he felt the same. He supposed he’d been having an all right time, but Julie had worn high heels that kept getting stuck in the grass, and every five minutes she was stopping to slather sunscreen on Dillon’s freckled nose.

  “Whew,” Julie said, teetering up beside them. “That was a long walk.”

  “Why don’t you take off those shoes?”

  “And go barefoot?” Her perfectly arched eyebrows raised.

  “Yesterday, I had a fifty-dollar pedicure.”

  “Just a suggestion,” Jackson said with a shrug.

  When it was their turn in line, Jackson and Dillon ordered corn dogs and lemonade while Julie got bottled water.

  Thirty minutes later, the guys ordered funnel cake, and Julie guzzled more bottled water before whining about needing to make another trek to the bathroom.

  An hour after that, it was caramel apples and Cokes. This time, Julie ate, but only a plain apple—oh, and of course, more bottled water.

  A long time ago, Jackson had been a big fan of Julie’s rail-thin body, but with the years, he’d packed on a few pounds, and felt comfortable with them. He’d tired of watching every little thing he ate, and though he tried to eat healthily, he didn’t shy away from culinary fun. Years ago at a neighborhood block party, Julie had made a comment about how Ella had gotten fat. At the time, Jackson hadn’t thought much about the statement, but now that he’d spent time with Ella, he saw her as fun-loving and full of energy and a seriously great cook. So what if she had a little junk in her trunk? He liked it—considered her damned sexy. More importantly, he liked her. He liked the way she seemed to enjoy every minute of her life.

  “Dad?” Dillon asked in front of a pottery display.

  “Yes?”

  “When are you and Mom having the new wedding? I’ve gotta send out in-vo-tations.”

  Hands in his pockets, Jackson said, “The word is invitations, but you need to cool your jets. We haven’t even decided if there’s going to be another wedding.”

  “Why?”

  Jackson wanted to refer to Julie for help, but she was haggling with the booth’s owner over the price of a truly ugly brown vase.

  “Bud,” Jackson said with a sigh, “it’s like this. Me and Mom don’t always see eye to eye on things.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  Steeling his jaw, Jackson tried thinking of a kid-friendly explanation. “Basically, your mom and I are kind of like Owen and Oliver. Deep down, we love each other, but sometimes, we don’t like each other.”

  “Oh.” Lower lip trembling, Dillon looked Julie’s way.

  “She’s awfully pretty, though, right Dad?”

  Jackson had once thought her the most beautiful woman in the world. But her leaving had shown him an ugly side of her he hadn’t previously known. He’d been adult enough to understand her need for big-city career excitement, even though he damn sure hadn’t liked it, but Dillon had been mighty confused. The kid had thought Julie was mad at him. Ridiculous, but how did you rationalize lofty career goals to a five-year-old?

  “Isn’t this gorgeous?” Julie asked, beaming, vase in hand.

  “I got the artist to come down to a hundred. I think that’s a great deal, don’t you?”

  “If you’re into that sort of thing.”

  “You don’t like it?” She pouted. “I thought this would look great in your den.”

  “Um, sure,” he said, taking the vase from her because it looked heavy. As an added plus, if he accidently tripped, he could be sure it broke.

  “HOW WAS IT?” Ella asked Jackson Sunday afternoon as they sat in Key Elementary’s crowded gymnasium. Rose slept in her carrier on the seat to her left. In conjunction with the bake sale and a silent auction, the kids were performing a singing version of Beauty and the Basketball-Playing Beast.

  “You mean this weekend?” he asked, breath warm on her cheek and neck. He smelled of one of the chocolate cupcakes he’d purchased. “With Julie?”

  “Yes. What else would I be talking about?”

  “Shhh!” scolded an angry parent from behind them.

  “Sorry,” Ella whispered back.

  Taking a pen and notepad from her purse, she jotted: Did you have fun at the art fair? Are you back in love?

  After reading her message, he shook his head.


  Sorry, she wrote.

  He shrugged.

  A few dancing forest creatures skipped down the aisle, then the class beauties swirled across the stage in their bright-blue satin skirts. Ella sent up a silent prayer of thanks that she hadn’t had girls, otherwise she’d have been stuck on the Sewing Committee instead of the Twig-Gathering Committee that had hot-glued sticks to brown sweatshirts.

  “The boys look great,” Jackson said. “You did a nice job on the costumes.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Shh!”

  It took everything in Ella not to turn around and glare at the old biddy. After all, the music was loud enough she could hardly hear herself think. Instead, she wrote: When are you seeing Julie again?

  He took the pen and paper, and in the process, brushed his hand against hers. She ignored pleasurable sparks, telling herself it must be a chill causing goose bumps on her forearms. He scribbled: She’ll be back next weekend.

  Ella snagged the paper back and penned: That’ll be nice for Dillon.

  The look he returned her said, yes, it would be nice for his son, but Jackson wasn’t all that excited. A part of Ella was thrilled at this notion that he didn’t want to be with Julie, but the part of her who loved Dillon mourned. If she really wanted to help the boy get his family back, clearly, she’d have to try harder to steer clear of his father.

  Ella took the pad and pen and shoved them into her purse. Passing notes like fourth-graders would not help her cause. Neither would sitting crammed alongside Jackson in a too-small folding chair, the right side of her body tingling from shoulder to thigh where they touched.

  HER GAMBLE had paid off. They were there. Knowing the twins attended Key Elementary, she’d begged off early from work at the House of Fabric, then hustled down to the school. She’d been grateful to Larissa Chambers, whose daughter was in the same grade as Owen and Oliver, for telling her about the program.

  She couldn’t see her baby from the gym’s edge, so she worked up all of her courage and actually sat in the row behind Ella Garvey and Jackson Tate. Every time Ella shifted, she had an amazing view inside her baby’s fancy new carrier. She’d gotten so big. Her coloring was so pretty, and her hair had even grown long enough that Ella had put a tiny red bow in it that matched her baby’s red sailor dress and shoes.

  The longing to grab her baby girl was so great, it squeezed her chest. It had been forever since she’d seen her. But she couldn’t very well just drop by Ella’s house. If her grandmother or daddy ever found out about her pregnancy, she wouldn’t live through the shame. They were a highly religious family—real regular churchgoers—and none of their congregation would understand.

  She’d tried talking to Wes—just talking to him—but he wanted nothing to do with her now that he was going out with Pauline. Just as well, she supposed. Fooling around with him once had been the worst mistake of her life. She sure didn’t need to go doing it again.

  More than anything, she wished she could find a better job, save some money and steal back her baby and just run away. But deep in her heart, she knew what was best for her baby was the family she was currently with.

  It hurt her that her child wouldn’t grow up with a daddy, but she would have great older brothers to watch out for her and make sure no one picked on her in school. Although, the way Ella and Jackson were carrying on, who knew? Maybe some day they’d end up together, and her baby girl would have a whole family to love.

  FINALLY, THE PROGRAM ENDED. The boys had all looked adorable and had done Oscar-worthy performances, but never had Ella been so glad to rise from her seat in a standing ovation, then beat a hasty retreat from the crowded gym.

  Rose was awake, and Jackson scooped her from her carrier, holding her in the crook of one arm, and the carrier with his other.

  “Want me to get that?” Ella asked.

  “Nope. I’ve got it.” He kissed Rose’s cheek, and Ella could’ve sworn the baby smiled.

  “Was that a grin?” she asked Rose in a silly voice, tickling her tummy.

  “I think it was,” Jackson said in a goofy falsetto, jigging the baby with each word.

  “It’s too early,” Ella pointed out. “But she is obviously quite advanced for her age.”

  “And why wouldn’t she be?” Jackson stated. “With us as temporary parents, her brilliance is a no-brainer.”

  “Didn’t we do good, Mommy?” Owen asked, crushing Ella in an ambush hug.

  “You were amazing,” she said, laughing from the surprise of his whirlwind appearance.

  “You sure did,” Jackson echoed. “Where are Dillon and Oliver?”

  “Oliver’s talking to Harriet Grange—” he made a face as if this was worse than eating slugs “—and Dillon’s having a stick war with Michael and Billy.”

  “There’s my boy. Good job.” Todd approached, Dawn in tow. “Jackson,” Todd said, extending his hand for him to shake, then laughingly pulling back upon realizing the man had no free hands. “Looks like you could use our nanny.”

  “I’m good,” Jackson said.

  “Having a nanny’s better,” Todd said with a wink, elbowing his petite new bride.

  Dawn sighed. “You can’t offer Eloise around like a platter of deviled eggs.”

  “Did I say I was?” Todd asked. Attention back to Owen, he said, “How about heading out with me and Dawn for burgers?”

  “Really?” Owen asked with an excited hop. “I’ll go get Oliver.”

  “Thanks for asking me first, Todd.” Ella hated exposing her snippy side to Jackson, but honestly, when Todd showed up out of the blue, whisking the boys off for adventure, it was annoying.

  “Don’t cop an attitude, Ella. You know my schedule’s nuts this time of year. This was the only free afternoon I’ve had all week.”

  “It’s fine,” she said, arms crossed. “Just have them home by eight or so. It’s a school night.”

  By the time Ella got the boys settled with Todd, the crowd had thinned. Jackson stood waiting for her in a corner of the cafeteria, munching an oatmeal cookie. Rose was eyeballing her toes in her carrier at his feet.

  “These are good,” he said. “Who made them?”

  “Angie Crawford. She’s one of Dillon’s homeroom moms.”

  “I’m marrying her,” he said with charming wink, while slipping his arm around Ella’s shoulders. For a split second, she savored his touch, then her least favorite busybody mom, Marcia Jenkins, strolled by.

  “Ella,” she said with an ultrafake smile. “I didn’t know you and Jackson were an item.”

  “Actually,” Ella said, “we’re just—”

  “Keeping our relationship under wraps for now,” Jackson said in a bold whisper. Tugging her closer, he kissed her cheek. “But trust me, the minute we have something official to announce, we’ll write it up for your newsletter.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Marcia said, eyeing Rose. “Is this the infant your boys found?”

  “Actually,” Jackson said, “we left that baby at home. This one’s our secret love child.”

  “Jackson.” Ella gave him a swat. “He’s kidding,” she said to Marcia.

  Eyebrows raised, Marcia pursed her lips, then shook her head and walked off.

  “What’d you do that for?” Ella demanded.

  “I can’t stand the woman. Ever since she’s started yelling at me for not dropping Dillon in the proper loading and unloading zones, I’ve had it out for her. That was fun.”

  “Still, you should’ve taken the moral high road.”

  “Relax,” Jackson said, rubbing her left shoulder. “Marcia’s probably got a love child, too. And if she doesn’t, then she’s just jealous of ours.”

  “Stop.” Ella pretended to scold, a half smile tugging her lips.

  “I won’t stop,” he said in a whisper all hot and breathy in her ear. “And just think, if you’d come to your senses and give me a chance, not only would we share our love child, but our other kids, as well.” He winked. “You’ve always sa
id you practically consider Dillon to be your own son.”

  “Yeah, but there’s a big difference between practically thinking of him in terms of being mine, and me actually being his mom. In fact—”

  “Dad?” the boy in question said from behind them, expression crestfallen. “Is that true? Is Ms. Garvey really going to be my mom?”

  Chapter Eight

  “I hate you!” Dillon cried. “Both of you!” After giving both grown-ups hard stares, the boy took off running through the cafeteria and into the school lobby.

  “That could’ve gone better,” Jackson said, already chasing down his son. To Ella, who looked mortified by other moms’ stares, he called over his shoulder, “Wait here.”

  Jackson finally tracked Dillon down on the playground. He was pumping back and forth in a swing, going higher than Jackson had ever seen him before.

  “How about slowing down?” he asked.

  “No!” Dillon sassed.

  Not accustomed to his son back-talking, Jackson wasn’t sure whether to yank him off the swing and ground him, or give him a hug. Of all times for him to have popped up out of nowhere. He and Ella had just been goofing around. What was the big deal? “Come on, bud. Let’s talk.”

  “I already said, no! Just as soon as I’m done swingin’, I’m runnin’ away!”

  That’s it…

  Teeth gritted against saying something he might later regret, Jackson timed Dillon’s rise and fall, then snagged the swing’s rusty chain.

  “Hey! What’d you do that for?”

  “Because we need to talk about what you think you heard.”

  “You said Ms. Garvey is gonna be my mom, but I already have a mom, and she loves me. I don’t want another mom.”

  “First off…” Jackson said, lifting Dillon into his arms and carrying him to a bench nestled beneath a tall maple. On a sunny day, the tree made for nice shade, but today, the sky was gray.

  “Ella loves you, too. You’re like family to her, only in an extra-special way because she chooses to include you in her life.”