Finally a Mother

by Dana Corbit

  Shannon released the breath she’d been holding. Her son might have a tough-guy persona, but he was no ladies’ man yet. As she led Mark to one of the other tables, the familiar din of competing conversations filled the room. Although she busied herself removing the plate, cup and silverware from her tray, she still couldn’t resist peeking over at the table where Blake sat with the girls. Strange how she’d memorized every one of the residents’ birthdays, but they’d never seemed as young as they did sitting next to Blake. Particularly Chelsea, who must have said something funny because they all started laughing.

  “I think they’ll be safe during lunch. But we’ll be here in case mayhem ensues.”

  Caught again, Shannon gave him a mean look and then grinned. He smiled back, their gazes connecting only for a second, but her cheeks still warmed. Wetting her suddenly dry lips, she looked away. And she saw them. All of the people who mattered most to her were right here together. The child whose heart had first fluttered inside of her own body. The girls who had each stolen a piece of her heart.

  The scary thing was that she was tempted to include Mark in that group, too. But she couldn’t go there. This afternoon would be one of the most critical so far for her and Blake. They would be tested at the hospital to prove that they were truly biologically connected, and then she would meet with the attorney to determine steps toward her ultimate goal of making a home for herself and her son.

  Besides, if she was looking for a relationship with a man right now—and she wasn’t—she wouldn’t choose someone who still hadn’t gotten over his last relationship. Mark might have been divorced, but he was still holding on to his anger over his wife’s betrayal. He believed he’d played no role in the demise of his marriage when even as an outsider, she couldn’t help but wonder whether or not that was true.

  She couldn’t lose sight of what was most important here anyway, and the only thing that could matter was that she would be with her son. Just her and Blake. It was the only thing she’d ever wanted, and whether it felt like it at this second or not, it had to be enough.

  * * *

  On Wednesday afternoon, Mark hammered the lid onto the can of glossy white cabinet paint, whacking the hammer several more times though the lid was already good and tight. What was wrong with him? He’d promised himself he would keep his distance from Shannon for Blake’s sake, and there probably wasn’t a scale to measure how badly he’d failed in the past two days.

  Any opportunity to work on her side of the room, any chance to volunteer to help her move furniture or rinse paint rollers, he’d stepped right up. He was out of comedic material now because he’d told every knock-knock joke he could remember just to see her smile or hear her laugh. Even knowing that she’d only been having those conversations with him so that Blake could overhear them hadn’t prevented him from enjoying every minute of them. Now they were finished painting the walls and putting an extra coat of paint on the white floor moldings, and he was tempted to find another excuse to spend time with her.

  He knew better than to become involved with a woman like Shannon. She’d held on to her blame against her parents for fifteen years. She saw herself as a victim rather than taking responsibility for her own actions. No different from Kim, the suspects he took into custody and even all of the other guys in that car accident so long ago, she blamed everyone but herself. Instead of sending him running in the other direction, though, her weaknesses drew him in, just like everything else about her did.

  Maybe it was a good thing that they would be taking off early today so that Shannon could start baking with the girls for tomorrow’s event. The only way he would ever get some perspective in this situation would be to put some time and some space between them. He wasn’t usually a fan of holidays, most of which he had to work, but this break that Thanksgiving would provide couldn’t have come at a more necessary time.

  “It looks great, don’t you think?” Shannon leaned against the back of the sofa that was still covered with a sheet as she admired their work.

  “If you like big blue magic markers...sure.”

  She only smiled. “The girls are going to love it.”

  “I think it’s all right,” Blake chimed, almost as a reminder that he was still there.

  Mark shrugged. “Must be a kid thing.”

  As if to test his premise, three of the girls made their way down the stairs then. Chelsea appeared at the bottom first.

  “Are you finished, Miss Shannon? Mrs. Wright let us out of class work early. I got to log off right in the middle of my genetics study guide for bio.” But then Chelsea stopped and looked around. “This looks amazing. Oh, hi, Blake. Did you help paint?” She indicated the big blue room with a sweep of her hand.

  He nodded but then looked at the ground, the color on his cheeks a deep red.

  Kelly followed Chelsea down the stairs, stopping at the bottom step. “I love this.” But then she crossed her arms, shivering. “It’s freezing in here.”

  Shannon indicated the open egress window. “The fumes. We had to air the place out.”

  “But you’ll be done soon, right?” Kelly asked. “We need to get started.”

  “As soon as we get everything cleaned up in here.” Already Shannon was pulling the old sheet off the sofa.

  “You go on ahead with the girls.” Mark held out his arms and caught the sheet when she threw it to him. “We can finish this.”

  Scanning the paint pans, brushes and roller frames that still needed to be washed and put away, Shannon chewed her lip. “If you’re sure...”

  “Yeah. Go.”

  Kelly literally bounced with excitement. “Miss Shannon’s going to teach us how to make pumpkin pies. Mine’s going to be beautiful.”

  “My mom makes pumpkin pie and apple pie.” Chelsea wore a wistful expression, as if reliving family celebrations during easier times. “She can’t make it tomorrow.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” Mark said automatically.

  She stared out the basement window, blinking a few times, and then turned back to Mark. “What are you two doing for Thanksgiving? Miss Shannon, we should invite them to our Thanksgiving celebration.”

  “Yeah. Can we invite them?” Kelly chimed in.

  Shannon stared at them as if they’d just announced a plan to implode the Hope Haven house. It might have been entertaining watching her try to maneuver herself out of the situation if Mark hadn’t realized right then that as Blake’s guardian he should have made some sort of official holiday plans for the two of them. Great foster dad he was turning out to be. He’d expected to have no bigger worries tomorrow than where to find the best carryout turkey and dressing. He’d never considered that the boy might have been hoping for a real holiday dinner.

  Once a disappointment, always a disappointment. Mark just changed the individuals he was letting down.

  “We’ll already have about forty people here for Thanksgiving dinner,” Shannon said finally.

  Since Mark would have expected her to jump at the chance to spend her first Thanksgiving with Blake, her noncommittal comment surprised him. Just when he was convinced that she really wanted to be a mother to Blake, now she appeared to be backing away. Maybe he was right to worry in the first place.

  “So what’s two more?” Chelsea asked.

  “It’s not that...” Shannon’s gaze darted to Mark’s as she stalled. “It’s just that it’s last-minute, and Trooper Shoffner and Blake probably already have plans.”

  So that was it. She’d experienced enough rejection from Blake this week, and she didn’t want to get her hopes up when the boy was sure to say no.

  Kelly stepped closer and then had to lean her head back to look up to Mark. “Well, Trooper Shoffner, do you?”

  “Have plans?” he asked, stalling like Shannon had.

  Should he tell her that they would be joi
ning Bill and David and their families in Iron River? He could make that happen with a phone call and about nine hours of driving time, but he hadn’t planned to introduce Blake to his übersuccessful brothers and their accomplished wives and kids until he’d at least transformed the delinquent into a model citizen. Or maybe a Rhodes Scholar.

  “You know, turkey, cranberry sauce....” Chelsea lifted an eyebrow and waited.

  He put the last paint roller in a trash bag. “I just thought we’d make it a casual day. We can watch some football, and Wildwood Diner will be open, so...”

  “So nothing.”

  It was the first time Blake had spoken since the girls had entered the room, so Mark gave him his full attention.

  “Come on. It’s a real dinner.” Blake kept his voice low. He tilted his head to the side a few times, mimicking the motion of pulling Mark along with him.

  He had to give the boy that. There was something to be said for a good home-cooked meal, which they wouldn’t get at his place. Still, that didn’t mean they needed to invade the celebration at Hope Haven. The event promised to be as emotionally charged as any of the moments between Shannon and Blake, even without the magnetic pull between the housemother and himself thrown into the mix.

  “Good. Then it’s settled.” Kelly danced around the room.

  “We wouldn’t want to intrude.” Mark didn’t mention that Shannon hadn’t officially invited them.

  Shannon shook her head. “Forgive my manners. We’d love it if you two could join us.” She paused, her gaze on Blake, before turning back to the girls.

  “But this event is for you girls,” she said. “Are you sure you want to extend the celebration to more people than just you and your families?”

  Chelsea nodded, though she grimaced then and rubbed a place on her tummy where her baby must have kicked. “You invited your parents, didn’t you?”

  “I already told you about their mission trip to Guatemala, didn’t I?” Shannon waited for their nods and then continued. “So it will just be the twelve of you and your families. The ones who can come, anyway. Plus the other staff and their families.”

  “Blake is your family.”

  At Chelsea’s softly spoken words, Shannon’s hand went to her mouth. Her eyes shone, and the emotion in them was so raw that her anguish gripped Mark inside his gut. She wanted them there, all right, so much so that she was tempted to beg. Of course she would want to spend the holiday with her son. So why couldn’t he help wishing that she had the same kind of longing to see him there?

  “That’s right,” Kelly said, having missed Shannon’s reaction. “And Trooper Shoffner is... Well, Blake’s family. At least for now.”

  Mark swallowed. He was in this, all right. Deeper than he had any right to be. Shannon’s gaze met his then, and if she’d asked him to become the new executive director of the Hope Haven, he would have agreed to that, too.

  “Then thank you for the invitation. We accept. Let us know when dinner is, and we’ll be here two hours early.”

  Chapter Nine

  When the doorbell rang the next morning, Shannon looked up from the sofa pillows she’d just fluffed for the third time and groaned. Automatically, her hands went to her hair, still wrapped in a towel. Not two hours early, but three. If only she could have skittered off to her room the way the girls, who’d been working in their pajamas, did.

  So much for her plan to have everything ready, her included, before they—before any of the guests—came. Okay, maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that her parents wouldn’t be around for this particular holiday. She’d just found Blake, and she wasn’t ready to share him yet. Would they reject her son again? She didn’t even want to think about that, but she couldn’t help wondering if they would reject Mark, too, because of his divorce.

  She shook her head and then tightened her towel. Of course her parents had no reason to accept Mark. As Kelly had said yesterday, he was Blake’s family. Not hers. And the sooner she finally accepted that, the better.

  Smoothing her hands over the apron that covered her black special-occasion dress, she crossed to the front door and pulled it open.

  “Happy Thanksgiving,” Mark and Blake chorused.

  They stood on the porch, their arms laden with food though she’d told them they didn’t need to bring anything.

  “You going to let us in or what?” Mark shifted a casserole dish in his arms. “This stuff is getting heavy.”

  “It’s cold out here, too.” Blake gave an exaggerated shiver.

  “Oh. Right.” She backed away from the door to allow them inside.

  Blake indicated her towel with a tilt of his head. “New style?”

  “A too-early style.”

  “Yeah. Sorry.”

  Instead of waiting for her to direct him, Blake started down the hall toward the kitchen.

  Mark followed him but turned back, grimacing. “Sorry. Really. Blake has been bouncing off the walls for two hours, asking when we could leave. I know it’s bad for parents to give in to begging, but he wore me down.”

  Even humiliated to be wearing a towel as an accessory to her dress, she couldn’t help smiling at that. Until now he hadn’t shown any parenting weakness since he’d opened his home to Blake nearly a week before.

  “We’ll have to work on that, but—” She glanced down the hall to where Blake had disappeared. “He was excited about coming here today?”

  “Oh, he would never admit that, but he was up at the crack of dawn, forcing me to take him to the grocery store that should have been closed on the holiday but wasn’t.” He shrugged, allowing the bags to shift on his arms. “Did I mention they were heavy?”

  Frowning, she led Mark into the kitchen and helped him find places for the food on the counter, along with all of the serving dishes and platters. The succulent scent of roasting turkeys already wafted from the industrial ovens. “Did you make that yourself?” She indicated the casserole dish containing baked macaroni and cheese with a topping of dried breadcrumbs.

  “Of course I did. I do know how to read a recipe.” He glanced back from the counter. “I ended up with several of my mother’s recipes after she died.”

  His gaze lowered to the dish he set on a hot pad, and then he looked back at her again. She swallowed, touched that he’d made one of his mother’s recipes for their celebration.

  “It was nice of you to go to so much trouble. I did tell you not to, though.” She scanned the various cans and boxes he’d brought along. Some they could use today and others she’d be challenged to ever find a use for, but the thought definitely counted.

  “No trouble.”

  “Whatever you say.” She accepted his story, though with all he’d done, he couldn’t have had much more sleep than she’d had.

  “Okay. What now?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’re here to help you get ready for the celebration, so just let us know what still needs to be done.”

  She pushed through the swinging door to the cafeteria area and indicated for him to follow. Blake was already out there, so full of nervous energy that he was pacing.

  “We’re going to line up all of the tables into two long ones and then cover them with those white tablecloths.” She pointed to a stack on the counter. “The girls will be down to help you in a few minutes. They decided to get dressed early.”

  “I wonder why.” Mark grinned, watching Blake’s return trip down the length of the room. “Wait. Where are you going? You didn’t invite us as a ploy so you could slip out and have a holiday of solitude, did you?”

  “And miss all of this? The girls love this day, and so do I.” She would love it even more this time, but she was determined not to cry today so she didn’t mention that.

  “You didn’t answer the question.”

&n
bsp; “In case you hadn’t noticed, I still have to get ready.” She pulled the towel off her head and let her hair fall down in a messy heap.

  He studied her for several seconds, as if he was only now noticing that she hadn’t been ready to receive guests. “You look fine just the way you are.”

  “And you’re saying that to be nice because you’re getting a free Thanksgiving dinner out of this.” Her words sounded rushed, nervous to her, so she didn’t try to convince herself that he didn’t notice it.

  But he only smiled and repeated her words from earlier. “Whatever you say.”

  Excusing herself from the room, she had to force herself to walk, rather than run, up the stairs toward her bedroom. If she didn’t plan to make a fool of herself today, she had to stop reading something more into everything that Mark said.

  She passed Brooke in the hall.

  “Hey.” She stopped and squeezed the girl’s shoulder. “I haven’t seen much of you this morning. You’re moving kind of slowly. Are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Brooke waved away her worry with a brush of her hand before she tucked it in her pocket. “It’s just a little headache.”

  “Well, you should rest for a while. You want to feel better so you can enjoy the dinner later.”

  “Oh, I’m better already.” Crossing her arms, Brooke started down the hall. “Hey, don’t we both have to get ready? You more than me. My mom won’t be here until late this afternoon. After the family dinner with my aunts and uncles.”

  “Sorry your dad couldn’t come.”

  Brooke paused and turned back to her. “It’s okay. He’s not ready. He just doesn’t want to see me...like this.” She patted her rounded stomach.

  Shannon grimaced and then forced a smile. “Take it easy today.”