Kissing the top of his head, Drew found his voice was husky when he said, “I’ll see you Thursday. Be good for your mom.”
Then Micah let Annie take him.
Drew felt as if his heart was in shreds as he walked away. The trip home seemed to take forever. Probably because every mile he drove took him farther from his son. And Annie.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ANNIE ROLLED DOWN THE windows of her little crossover SUV and inhaled deeply. She glanced at her rearview mirror and stopped herself from commenting on the fresh, pine-scented air.
Micah was asleep.
Her plans for the weekend trip to her mother’s place in Payson had been made a month ago, so she shouldn’t feel guilty over Drew’s disappointment about not seeing his son today. But she did.
Annie negotiated the turn where paved road changed to dirt. The handy Tucson took it in stride, though. They arrived at the A-frame cabin right at noon.
Her mother was outside raking pine needles, looking younger than her fifty-six years in slim jeans and a fisherman’s sweater. Probably pretending she hadn’t been waiting for them.
Annie smiled. If motherhood had brought about changes in her, being a grandmother had caused June Marsh to bloom.
Her mom had the rear passenger door open almost before the vehicle came to a stop.
“Come here, you angel. Let Grandma give you a big hug.”
Micah viewed her through half-raised eyelids. “Gramma,” he murmured, breaking into a smile.
A smile that was reflected in her mother’s eyes. It was a love affair that had started from the moment Micah had come home from the hospital.
Annie got out and went to give her mother a hug. “I see how I rate.”
“Oh, honey, I’m so glad to see you. But you know I just couldn’t waste a second before I gave this little one a hug.” She took Micah out of his safety seat and did just that, placing noisy kisses on his neck.
“I know, Mom.” Annie draped her arm over his mother’s shoulder as they headed toward the cabin.
“How was your drive?”
“Uneventful.”
June opened the screen door and headed for the eatin kitchen. “I’ve been holding lunch for you two. I made sub sandwiches for us. PB and J for Micah. And macaroni salad. Oh, and brownies for dessert.”
“You’ve hit all his favorites. He’ll be one happy kid.”
“He’s always a happy child. That’s how I can tell what a good job you’re doing.”
Annie appreciated the attempt to bolster her confidence, but wished her mother wouldn’t lay it on so thick.
“Thanks, Mom.” Annie felt the tension of the past few weeks ease.
“Every parent needs to hear they’re doing a good job. But you really are. And maybe later you’ll tell me why you’ve seemed…distracted when I talked to you on the phone. That way I’ll feel like a good parent.”
“There’s something I need to tell you about Micah’s dad. But let’s wait till after lunch.”
Her mom raised an eyebrow, but refrained from asking the questions that seemed to be on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she put Micah in his booster seat at the old, battered oak table and placed enough food for three children in front of him.
Annie wished she could avoid the conversation that was coming. She hated to spoil what would have otherwise been a perfect day.
DREW UNLOCKED THE DOOR and walked into his apartment. Glancing around, he tried to see it as Annie might if she came to his place. It looked generic, from the inexpensive rental furniture to the lack of personal items. He’d obviously made no effort to turn it into a home.
But he was about to remedy that in a small way. Kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.
Taking the digital picture frame out of the box and packing, he set it on the kitchen table next to his laptop. Then he began downloading the photos he’d taken of Micah when he’d babysat on Thursday. There was even one that Kat had taken of the two of them. He’d e-mail it to his folks, too, when they got the all-clear on the paternity test.
He was still amazed this kid was his son. But Micah looked too much like Drew to be anyone but a Vincent. The cleft in his small chin clinched it. And, within the next week or so, they would have DNA confirmation from the lab.
The phone rang and he picked up, the display showing a private caller.
“Hello.”
“Hey, it’s Kat.”
“Hi. Is something wrong?”
“No. I just need to ask a favor.”
“Shoot.”
“Brett’s coach called an extra practice on Monday and I told Annie I’d babysit, but I realize I’ve got a doctor’s appointment. Any chance you could fill in for me? You’re definitely ready to go solo.”
Drew felt a little sheepish that he was pleased to hear he wasn’t a total moron with his son.
“Sure, no problem. As long as it’s okay with Annie.”
“I’ll clear it with her. I tried to call her cell, but she must be out of range. Reception can be kind of spotty by her mom’s cabin. I left a voice message, but thought I’d line you up so Annie wouldn’t have to worry about it late Sunday when they get home.”
“Do I need to pick Micah up from preschool?”
“I imagine Annie will phone you Sunday night with the details. But if you have any questions, feel free to give me a call.”
“Okay, Monday afternoon. Got it.”
“Thanks, Drew.”
He clicked off his phone and stared at his computer screen, bemused. He was going solo on Monday. The thought both excited and scared him.
In an attempt to distract himself, he started downloading photos from Iraq. But emotions and memories flooded him with each picture. Good people, good friends. They’d taught him so much. First, how to survive in a war zone. And second, that some bonds were too strong to break simply by distance.
Or by death.
His favorite photo of Orion flashed on the screen.
Standing against the tan, desolate landscape of Iraq, the older man was grinning broadly, backing up, his arm cocked to throw a football to an unseen serviceman. He was vibrant, with an unparalleled zest for life. But even that hadn’t been enough in the end.
ANNIE TUCKED MICAH INTO the crib next to her mom’s bed, then tiptoed into the kitchen. She selected a dish towel and started to dry while her mother washed. There was no room in the tiny A-frame for a dishwasher.
Annie was just as glad there wasn’t. There was something soothing about their after-dinner ritual.
“Is he asleep?” her mother asked.
“Yes.”
For some reason, the repetition of drying made it easier for Annie to think. And talk. “You remember when I told you Micah’s father had been killed in Iraq?”
“Yes. It was so sad.”
“Well, it turns out he’s alive. He was wounded badly, but survived. As a matter of fact, he made a full recovery.”
Her mother didn’t speak for a moment, just scrubbed the same pot even though it was already clean. Annie started to wonder if she’d heard her.
Finally, June said, “I bet that was a real shock. Do you…intend to contact him?”
“Turns out, he contacted me.”
“I don’t know what to say, Annie. I’ve grown so accustomed to thinking of Micah as ours and nobody else’s. I know that sounds selfish, but there you have it.”
Hearing her own emotions spoken aloud made her ashamed. And caught her off guard, coming from her progressive mother.
“I have to admit, I’m surprised.” Annie dried her hands and started putting the dishes away to make room on the counter. “You’re normally pretty inclusive.”
“This is my grandson we’re talking about. Not to mention this man let you go through a difficult pregnancy by yourself and didn’t try to contact his son for more than eighteen months. As far as I’m concerned, being dead is the only acceptable excuse.” Her mother’s cheeks flushed with anger.
Annie felt ashamed,
but she had to own up to the truth. “Drew didn’t know about Micah.”
Her mother stared at her, trying to process that.
“He contacted me to…apologize.”
“For what?”
“The whole one-night stand thing. Apparently his conscience started to bother him when he was overseas. But it wasn’t his fault. I was…a willing participant.”
“It does generally take two to dance that dance. But it doesn’t let him off the hook from his responsibilities.”
“He, um, wasn’t even sure Micah was his child.”
June frowned, scrubbing at a stubborn spot. “I don’t think I like this Drew.”
Annie separated the utensils and placed them in the appropriate slots in the silverware drawer, finding comfort in the routine task. Her voice was low when she said, “I really messed things up. First by having a fling, then by convincing myself there was no need to confirm that Drew had died. I can’t really blame him…for wondering.”
“I can. You would never be intimately involved with two men at once. Even though certain matriarchal societies find it acceptable.”
Annie had to smile. “Did you ever…? On second thought, don’t answer that. You grew up in a different generation. Free love and all that.”
“I was in love with your father when I was very young and monogamous and devoted to him. But I also believe there should be options. It’s a shame women seem to be losing all the ground we made in the sixties and seventies. The pill freed us. Fear of disease has shackled us again.”
“For all your talk, it’s not like you replaced Dad with a bunch of guys.”
“No. I was too damaged at the time. I’ve had a few male friends since. Sex is a healthy communication tool. And it’s just downright fun.”
Annie rolled her eyes, wondering why she couldn’t have one of those mothers who never discussed anything remotely intimate with her daughter. But deep down, Annie considered herself lucky, even if all this openness sometimes made her squirm.
“Um, I’m not real sure what Drew and I were communicating when we had sex.”
“That you needed human touch. That maybe you were a tiny bit lonely? That you were still young enough to throw caution to the wind?”
“Were?”
June pointed at her with a wooden spoon covered in suds. “You know what I mean. These days, you’re so intent on being the perfect mother you’ve shut down that part of being a woman.”
Annie snorted. “It’s not like I have a ton of opportunities. Besides, I tried dating and it doesn’t work. Not while Micah’s so young.”
Her mother tilted her head. “Maybe it doesn’t work because you haven’t found the right man yet.”
This was another familiar refrain, and only served to make Annie sad. Her mother had an idealized view of male-female relationships, formed around a man who would stay forever thirty-nine in her memory. Annie had pretty much given up on the fairy tale.
“Can we change the subject? Tell me about your work at the clinic.”
“Okay, I’ll butt out of your sex life for now. The clinic is fine. We’re doing good work there. Important work. Women need control over their reproductive rights.”
Annie smiled, admiring her mother’s zeal. She also found it ironic that she’d had an unplanned pregnancy when her mother had preached responsible, safe sex to her practically from the cradle.
“I’m glad it’s going well, Mom.”
“So is this Drew interested in seeing Micah?”
“He has seen him. He’s also been helping out after school when I’m at football practice with Brett.”
“He doesn’t have any crazy idea like wanting custody, does he?”
“He understands that it’s important for Micah to get to know him slowly. We haven’t really discussed visitation.”
“You should consult with an attorney, all the same.”
“Now you sound like Kat.”
Her mother wiped the last dish clean and dried her hands. “It’s only because we love you, honey. And love Micah.”
“I know.” Annie sighed. “I hope you’re wrong. I can’t think of anything much sadder than two parents fighting over a child. I don’t think there can be a winner that way.”
CHAPTER NINE
ON MONDAY, ANNIE DASHED across the parking lot, up the stairs, and unlocked her apartment door. Once inside, she set Micah on the floor. They were home an hour earlier than usual. That would give her time to hyperventilate before Drew arrived. Or call Coach and say she was sick and couldn’t attend practice.
“Snack?” Micah asked.
“Of course, sweetie.” She went to the kitchen and got a juice box and some of his favorite fish-shaped crackers.
She glanced at her watch, so tempted to make that call.
But she’d have to give Drew time alone with Micah eventually. And none of the other interpreters had been able to cover for her.
There was no way she could take Micah with her to the practice, she couldn’t divide her attention between a toddler and the coach. And letting down Brett was not an option.
Grabbing a couple of Micah’s trains, she held out her hand to him. “Come with Mommy? You can play trains while I check something on the computer.”
Micah complied and quickly settled on her bedroom floor to play.
Annie’s conscience twinged as she booted up her PC. But she decided Micah’s safety was more important than Drew’s privacy.
She opted for the least expensive search available that would include court records. If he had a felony, her decision would be made and Brett would have to be disappointed. An ex-wife? She’d be forewarned. A current wife? She’d know he couldn’t be trusted.
Working quickly, she referred to the social security number he’d given for the DNA test, while telling her conscience to be quiet.
The file downloaded quickly—showing no marriages, past or present. That cheered her immensely.
No criminal record. Woo-hoo!
Saving the file, she decided there was really no reason not to let him babysit. Kat said he was a natural.
As for Micah, he adored Drew. Annie wondered if the child knew on some instinctive level that Drew was his father. Or if he was just starved for male companionship.
“Okay, sweetie. Let’s go clean up the family room.”
“Game.”
“Yes, bring your trains.”
He followed her to the front room, where they began the cleanup game. They sang and danced around the room as they placed all the toys in the storage box.
Before she knew it, the doorbell rang.
Annie was breathless when she opened the door. “Hi, Drew. Come on in.”
For some reason, she felt unaccountably shy. Maybe it was because his hair was still damp from a shower and he smelled great. Or maybe it was simply because he was the only man she’d been intimate with in six years.
Over halfway to double digits. Life was passing her by at an astounding rate.
“Hey, buddy,” Drew said as Micah hugged his knees. He swung the boy up in his arms, without tossing him in the air.
Annie nodded in approval.
“Do you always get off this early?” he asked.
“No, I took an hour of personal time to pick him up at day care.”
“I could have picked him up.”
Giving permission to the day care for one day seemed…complicated. And she hadn’t wanted to give permanent permission for Drew to pick up Micah because it might seem as if they shared custody. That was a precedent she didn’t want to set.
Drew held her gaze. “He’s my son. It wouldn’t have been a bother.”
“You don’t have a safety seat for him, do you?”
Snapping his fingers, he said, “I didn’t even think of that. I’ll buy one on my way home tonight. That way I’ll be ready next time.”
Maybe there wouldn’t be a next time. “Kat doesn’t have these appointments often.”
“Even so, I’d like to do it m
ore. It’s good for me to get to know Micah.” He tousled the boy’s hair. “And we have fun, don’t we, buddy?”
“Fun!” Micah crowed.
Annie was reluctant to have Drew as a regular fixture at their place. “We’ll see.”
She glanced at her watch, then grabbed her purse and keys from the breakfast bar. “I’ve got to go. You be a good boy.”
Kissing Micah on the cheek, she blinked away unwelcome tears. Why was this so hard?
Drew touched her shoulder. “We’ll be fine. I’ve got your cell number if we need you.”
Nodding, she turned and left before she cried in earnest.
DREW TIPTOED AROUND pots and pans and the small human cyclone that had emptied the cupboards. The same cyclone who sat happily beating on an upended pot with a long-handled spoon.
“Easy there, Micah, we don’t want the neighbors complaining about noise.”
The boy grinned and drummed louder.
Drew felt a headache somewhere behind his right eye.
“You can do this,” he reassured himself. “You’ve been in battle.”
The first hour had been a piece of cake. They’d laughed, they’d played, they’d read books.
But then Drew had the bright idea of having dinner ready when Annie got home to show he really had this dad stuff down pat.
Once he’d started, Micah had morphed into a whiney, demanding, energetic bundle. As a last resort, Drew opened the lower kitchen cupboard and turned him loose. And like thousands of children before him, Micah was able to entertain himself with basic cooking tools.
Drew grabbed plates from the upper cupboard and set the table, including toddler utensils for Micah. Not that the kid would probably use them.
Stepping around Micah, he opened the oven door a crack to check on the macaroni and cheese casserole. It bubbled, the top turning a golden brown. And it smelled pretty darn good, too.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a small hand reaching out to the oven door.
“No!” he yelled, pushing Micah’s hand away.
Startled, the toddler started to wail.
Drew shut the oven door and turned down the heat so the casserole would stay warm.
Welcome Home, Daddy Page 8
