by Susan Meier
Kate said, “Trisha will be starting second grade in the fall.”
“Second grade,” Max repeated, his tongue thick, his brain a ball of melting wax. Thoughts beeped in his head like neon signs. Had Kate stayed, he’d know his little girl. He might have seen her birth. He might have gotten sober sooner—
They might still be married.
He sucked in a breath. Told himself to stop those thoughts. All of them. He had to take responsibility. “That’s…I remember having fun in second grade.”
She peeked up at him. “I had fun in first grade.”
“Trisha’s a very good student. Her teachers love her.”
Trisha smiled again, this time revealing two missing front teeth.
His heart skipped a beat. A laugh bubbled to his chest. She was so damned cute.
“Teachers always like the kids who get good grades.”
Kate’s mom entered the room carrying a tray, surprising Max. He’d thought they were supposed to be alone…. Then he understood. Kate didn’t trust him enough to be alone with him.
Bev smiled brightly. Too brightly. “I have lemonade and cookies if anybody’s interested.”
Trish reached for a cookie even before Bev had the tray on the table.
Kate laughed. “Where are your manners? Your dad’s a guest in our house. We offer him a cookie first.”
Trisha reluctantly brought her hand back and caught his gaze. “Do you want a cookie?”
Max’s chest tightened. He had a daughter he didn’t know, a little girl who, right now, was probably as uncomfortable with him as he was with her, and a shivering ex-mother-in-law, trying to pretend everything was okay. All because Kate had kept them apart. And why? Because she was afraid? He’d never physically hurt her. Never.
He struggled with the urge to shout an obscenity and then struggled not to squeeze his eyes shut in frustration. He couldn’t think like this. He wasn’t allowed. He had to take responsibility for his actions. He couldn’t blame someone else.
He forced a smile for Trisha. “Sure. Yeah. I’d love a cookie.”
Bev offered the plate to him. He took one of the fat chocolate chip cookies. Nobody spoke.
After a few bites, Trisha broke the silence. “Do you like the cookie?”
This time his smile wasn’t forced. When he looked at her sweet face, he just wanted to hug her. He longed to put his arms around her and feel his own child in his arms.
“Yes. I like the cookie very much.” He cleared his throat, reminded himself to stay in the moment. If he was here for Trisha, he would be here for Trisha. Really here. “So what about your friends? Do you have lots of friends?”
“Sunny and Jeffrey.”
His gaze shot to Kate’s. “Her best friends are boys?”
Trisha giggled. The sound skipped along his nerve endings, warming his heart, filling him with awe. This was his daughter. His baby girl. If he wanted to be in her life, he couldn’t dwell in the past. He had to live in today. This minute.
“Sunny’s a girl.”
“Oh, I was thinking Sonny.”
She frowned.
He smiled. “Never mind. What’s your favorite game? Do you play T-ball? Little League?”
Confused by his question, Trisha glanced at her mom who said, “Those are sports.”
She faced him again with a big toothless grin. “No.”
Kate rose. “Do we want to do something?”
He glanced up at her.
She motioned with her hand. “So we have something to do other than trying to think of something to say.”
He looked at Trisha. “What would you like to do?”
She glanced down shyly. Kate stooped in front of her. “Why don’t you take your dad to the family room and have a tea party?”
Excitement filled her eyes. She nodded and led him down the hall, into a family room that was neat as a pin except for toys littering the brown tweed sofa and chair. A red plastic child-sized table sat in the center of the room. Dolls and stuffed animals sat on the yellow, blue and green chairs surrounding it.
Trisha plucked the toys from their seats and tossed them to the sofa before she pointed at one of the chairs. “You sit here.”
He peered down at the little plastic chair.
But before he could say anything, Kate said, “Maybe Daddy’s too big for a chair?”
That blasted, unwanted anger surged in Max again. “You don’t need to answer for me. You’ve made enough of my decisions to last a lifetime.”
Kate faced him, eyebrows arched as if asking if he really wanted to get into that fight now, and he immediately regretted saying anything. Especially in front of Trisha.
He backpedaled. “It’s just that the chair looks sturdy enough.” And he could also keep his weight shifted in such a way he wouldn’t put too much stress on it. He smiled at Trisha. “It’s fine.” And back at Kate. “I’ll be fine.”
Carefully, he lowered himself to the colorful chair and sighed gratefully when it held his weight. Though his knees were taller than the table and he felt like a giant, he was seated.
Trisha held out her teapot to her mom. “Can we have some tea?”
Kate took the pot. “Sure. I’ll get you some more cookies too.”
While she was gone, Trisha kept her attention on arranging little cups and saucers. “This is my snack.”
“Your snack?”
She almost looked at him. “My afternoon snack.”
“Oh.” He got it now. “So you’re not getting extra cookies.”
She glanced up. Actually looked at him this time. “Too much sugar isn’t good for me.”
He laughed, recognizing she’d probably repeated verbatim what she’d been told by her mom.
He made himself a little more comfortable on the chair. Trisha finally sat. Thirty seconds went by with neither of them saying a word. Panic filled him, along with the fear of total inadequacy. How did a man parent a child he was only now meeting?
Kate walked into the room carrying the teapot and a small plate with three cookies. She’d tucked her dark hair behind her ears, revealing the slim column of her throat. His gaze fell from her throat to her T-shirt, which perfectly outlined her breasts, to the trim line of her tummy exposed above the waistband of her jeans. His breath stuttered. His attraction to her sprang up like a lion that had been lying in wait in the African bush, confusing him. How could he be so damned attracted to a woman he was so damned angry with?
“One cookie for you. Two for your dad.”
Trisha sighed. “Because he’s bigger.”
“Exactly.”
She offered the plate of cookies to him, standing close enough that he could smell her cologne.
Telling himself he’d better get accustomed to being around her or he’d drive himself crazy, he took a cookie from the tray. “No cookie for you?”
She walked away and began gathering the toys from the sofa. “Not hungry. Besides, this isn’t my party. It’s yours. With your daughter. Enjoy it.”
Panic swamped him again. Unwanted attraction be damned. He needed Kate and she was deserting him.
Trisha poured the “tea.” Wary of the cleanliness of the plastic cup and whatever was inside, he cast Kate a questioning look. “Am I allowed to ask when these little cups were last washed?”
She laughed lightly. “We wash the tea set every time she uses it. It’s clean.”
Still cautious, he took a sip and discovered the drink was actually a grape punch of some sort. Dark enough to look like tea, but not really tea. “It’s good.”
“It’s the queen’s favorite.”
He glanced at Trisha. “The queen?”
Trisha pointed to an empty chair. “The queen comes to everyone’s tea parties.”
So out of his element he had no clue what to say or do, he again looked to Kate. But she was busy gathering toys. Either not paying attention or deliberately forcing him to figure out something to say. With her arms full, he expected her to walk to a toy box,
but there was no box. Instead, she stacked the toys in an empty corner.
It suddenly occurred to him that she lived somewhere else. Somewhere so far away they’d never even accidentally bumped into each other. And she didn’t visit. So how did Trisha have toys here?
He knocked on the plastic table. “Are these new?”
Kate said, “Bought them our second day here. Trisha and I both needed a distraction.”
Remembering her dad’s stroke, sorrow unexpectedly swamped him. “I…um…I really am sorry about your dad.”
“He’ll be fine, but no one’s sure how long he’ll be in the hospital.” She reached for another toy. “So I took a three-month leave of absence so we can be here for Mom. That’s a long time to be away from home, and a little girl’s gotta be entertained, so we bought some stuff.”
He blinked, taking all that in. “You’ll be here three months?”
She picked up another toy. “Yep.”
They’d be here three months. He had time. Blessed, blessed time. But he also understood why Kate believed Trisha would need to be entertained. And maybe that could be his avenue to getting visits alone with her. If he could take her while Kate was busy with her father, he could be a savior of sorts, not an interruption.
“You know, if there’s ever a time when you can’t take her with you to the hospital or whatever, I’d be happy to clear my schedule and babysit.”
She peered at him. “Thanks. But we already agreed that I’d be with you when you visited Trisha.”
He should have known that wouldn’t work. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t do something to prove he would be there for them. “Is there anything else she needs?”
Kate turned. “She’s right there in front of you. Ask her.”
Annoyance skittered through him. He was trying to be nice and she was snippy? If he was inept in this situation, it was her fault. But he kept his cool, reminded himself that he had to take the blame for Kate’s distrust and be patient. No matter how unfair it seemed to him, he still had to play by her rules.
He faced Trisha. “Is there anything you need?”
“A pony.”
Kate laughed. He shot her a look, but turned back to Trisha. Though he was brand-new at being a daddy, he wasn’t a stranger to dealing with people, negotiating, pointing out the obvious. Until he knew how to be a daddy, he’d simply use the skills he had. “There’s no barn here for a pony.”
“That’s what my mom says.”
“So is there anything you need aside from a pony?” A thought hit him and he quickly added, “Or an elephant or a snake or any other living thing.”
She giggled. “I don’t want an elephant.”
Thinking back to his brother Chance, he picked up his cup to sip again and said, “Some kids do.”
* * *
Kate had to stifle a spontaneous laugh, but just as quickly guilt pummeled her. He wouldn’t be feeling his way around parenting right now if she hadn’t left.
But he was doing okay, and the more he visited, the better he’d be. Her staying here three months would give him plenty of time to learn how to be a daddy. Especially if he visited a few times a week.
She almost groaned. Good God. A few times a week? If she insisted on being part of every visit—and she already had—she was about to spend the better part of three months with her ex-husband.
Trisha began to pretend to feed her bear. Max glanced back at Kate, then rose from his little plastic chair and walked over to her.
“I’m not sure what the protocol is here, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
Though it killed her, she politely said, “You’re fine. We don’t have to be at the hospital until seven.”
“I know, but it’s just that we had a nice visit and I don’t want to spoil it by boring her.”
Familiar fear spiraled through her. “You’re ditching her?”
“Not ditching. Keeping her from disliking me because I bore her.”
She fought the instinctive anger that rose in her—remnants of the insult of always being left alone while he drank with his friends—and forced herself to be logical, not emotional. Their visit had been good, albeit short. Nice, short visits would get Trisha accustomed to him. And get him accustomed to Trisha without pushing either one of them.
“Okay.” Eager to get away from him, she walked over to the table and tapped on it to get Trisha’s attention. “Your dad is leaving now.” She picked up the teapot. “Say goodbye.”
Trisha gave him her toothless grin. “Bye.”
As goodbyes went, that left a lot to be desired. Seeing the confused look on Max’s face, Kate sucked in a breath and did what she had to do. “Give your dad a hug.”
Trisha got up from her chair and went to her father. She wrapped her arms around his legs, squeezed quickly and pulled back. “Bye.”
He closed his eyes, savoring the hug, then stooped down beside her and took her into his arms. Guilt tightened Kate’s stomach, but realism knocked it out of position. He might be a nice guy now—might—she suspected all this good behavior could be an act—but he’d ruined their marriage with his drinking. He’d forced her away. And she’d take Trisha away from him again in a heartbeat if he started drinking.
“Bye.” He rose and left. Quickly and quietly.
Relieved that he was gone, Kate carried the dishes out to the kitchen where her mom was wiping down a countertop. Trisha skipped in after her.
Sliding onto a chair by the table she said, “I liked him.”
Kate and her mom exchanged a glance, and Bev said, “Yeah. He’s a peach.”
Trisha giggled. “He’s not a peach. Peaches are fruit.” She grabbed an apple from the bowl on the table and skipped out of the room.
Kate’s mom rounded on her. “So?”
“So, what?”
“So do you think you appeased him? Is he going to do something like file for custody?”
Kate slumped against the sink. “With Trisha around, we didn’t really have time to talk about anything.”
“Oh, Katie! That was the whole point of the visit. Making him happy enough that he didn’t go to court.” She sighed and turned back to the sink. “I think you’re going to have to go talk to him.”
Even the thought made her stomach jump. She didn’t want to see him. But if she didn’t pin him down, he could easily pick up a phone, an entire staff of lawyers would be drafting motions and she could potentially lose control. At least this way, she called the shots. She would say when Trisha saw him. And she also would stay with them while he visited.
Slim as it was, she had an upper hand and she had to keep it.
CHAPTER THREE
MAX LEFT THE HOUSE with tears in his eyes. His first hug from his daughter had been quick, almost an afterthought. One of the biggest moments of his life had been treated as an afterthought.
He sucked in a breath, forcing himself to face some realities. Though it was momentous for him, it might have actually been scary for a little girl to hug a man who was a virtual stranger. So he couldn’t be angry that Kate had seemed flip about asking Trisha to hug him. She might have done it for Trisha’s sake. He had to take it in stride.
But so many things whirled around in his head. Anger with himself for ruining his marriage, his entire life for so many years. The desire to be angry with Kate. The argument that he couldn’t be angry with Kate. The sure knowledge that he had to take responsibility. His head was so full of thoughts and his heart so full of emotion that he wasn’t even sure if he was right or wrong.
Walking to the Range Rover, he grabbed his cell phone and hit speed dial.
His personal secretary answered. “Hey, boss.”
“I’m not coming back this afternoon.”
Silence. Annette was the only person who knew where he’d been—knew about Trisha.
“Is everything okay?”
“Peachy.”
“It doesn’t sound peachy.”
Forty-five, with four kids of va
rying ages, Annette was wise beyond her years. She was also someone he trusted.
“I need to think some of this through.”
“The talk with your wife didn’t go so well?”
Talk? They’d barely spoken, and when they had, an argument had always huddled just below the surface. He drew in a breath. “We didn’t shout.”
“Well, that’s a start.”
He laughed.
“Look, it’s Friday afternoon anyway. You haven’t had a day off in probably a decade. I’ll hold down the fort.”
He opened the door of the Range Rover. “Why don’t you go home, too?”
“Hey, you don’t have to ask me twice.”
With that she clicked off and Max drove home. He walked into his silent foyer and stopped as memories flooded him. When he and Kate were first married, she would greet him at the door. Sometimes naked. He shook his head. They had been so in love it was hard to fathom that they could barely hold a conversation now.
Walking toward the kitchen, he was grateful that his housekeeper was gone for the day. With his mom in Houston visiting friends, he didn’t have to worry about interruptions or having to make small talk—or having to tell her she had a granddaughter she didn’t know about.
He winced. That conversation was not going to be pretty. His mom would either explode with anger or melt into a puddle of emotion. And he’d have to remind her that Kate had had good reason to leave. Just as if it were eight years ago, he was back to facing the consequences of his drinking.
He walked to the master bedroom. It was the one room he had changed after he’d sobered up. He couldn’t handle the memories. Not just making love, but the arguments. Arguments he’d caused. If he closed his eyes, he could still hear Kate begging him to stop drinking, hear his own arrogant proclamations that he was fine. What an idiot he’d been.
He quickly changed into swimming trunks and made his way to the pool. He dived in with a resounding splash and surfaced, spraying water everywhere when he shook his head from side to side.
“Hey.”
Kate’s voice surprised him and his heart jumped. He spun around. “Hey.”
She took a few steps closer to the pool. “I… We never talked about visitation. About when you’d see her again.” She paused, smiled weakly. “When I called your office, Annette told me you’d gone home.” Her smile became genuine. “It’s nice that she still works for you.”
