by Abby Gaines
Gingerly, Lucas lowered Mia to the floor. For a moment she wobbled on her chubby legs, and he almost scooped her up again. Then she stabilized.
“Do you think you should wake Merry?” Stephanie seemed amused by his watchfulness. “She’s looked after Mia before.”
“I’ll let her sleep a little longer,” Lucas said.
“What a good husband you turned out to be.” Stephanie patted his cheek. “Call me on my cell if you have any problems.”
Maybe you could tell Merry the good husband bit. “Will do,” he said.
The problem was, Merry didn’t just want a good husband. She wanted a besotted husband. One who noticed what kind of songs she sang while she cooked spaghetti. To Lucas, that sounded like a guy who checked his brain at the door. Surely looking after a wife and family required a clear head. As well as all the emotional stuff.
Today, Merry would see the benefit of having a guy who could do both. If she was willing to look.
“Thank you,” Stephanie said, “for offering to babysit Mia. Dwight and I haven’t had a whole day without her since she was born. Much as I adore my daughter, I can’t wait to have my husband to myself.”
Stephanie set Mia up with some baby LEGOs; Lucas had had no idea they made the stuff in giant, pastel-colored pieces. A few minutes later, after prolonged goodbyes and smoochy kisses to Mia, Stephanie left. Watching her car disappear, Lucas knew a moment of panic. He quashed it. He was ready for this.
Ready to look after Mia, and ready to be a father to the baby he and Merry had made.
A baby. Thirty-six hours after he’d heard the news, the idea still had the power to rock him. It filled him with myriad feelings, some of which he couldn’t name. Others…for sure they included anxiety, and a sense of challenge. Those two were fine: he liked challenge and he had a proven technique for managing anxiety. Namely, act quickly and firmly to prevent things going wrong.
“Okay, Mia,” he said to his sister, who was absorbed in her LEGOs, “let’s make sure we have everything under control.”
It wouldn’t hurt to write down those timings Stephanie had given him. He grabbed a pen, plunked himself on the couch and used the back of a takeout menu to record the schedule, starting with “0800—Arrival.” Check. At the bottom of the page, he wrote “1700—Departure.” In the space between, he filled in the times that Stephanie had given him. When he was done, the day still looked bare. Lots of white space. He added “Diaper Change” at 0955 and 1455, and designated from now until the first diaper change as “Free Play.” That was better.
But today was about more than simply looking after Mia.
He scanned the schedule, then added “1430—Bonding (me/Mia).” Perfect.
“Hey, sis, according to this dandy list, you can just keep doing what you’re doing.” Lucas glanced at his sister—hell, she was gone. The door to the hallway was open; Lucas made a dash for it.
Mia hadn’t made it far. She was on the staircase, third stair up.
“Hey, kid.” Lucas kept his voice calm and quiet, so as not to disturb Merry. “Come back to your LEGOs.”
Mia turned to look at him, and something about the jerky movement, or maybe it was her disproportionately large head, or her lack of coordination, but she tipped backward.
Lucas had no idea how he moved so fast, but a second later he’d caught her, just before the back of her head thudded onto the bottom stair. “Gotcha.” His voice shook with relief. Imagine if he’d had to phone Stephanie already with questions about infant concussion. “Okay, kid, let’s set up that gate.”
He put Mia back with her LEGOs and closed the living-room door while he fixed the gate in place at the bottom of the stairs.
All right, that was better. Lucas checked his watch. Eight-thirty. Merry should wake soon. He wanted to look totally at ease when she came downstairs.
He opened the living room door carefully, in case Mia was behind it. No, she was over at the coffee table…tearing pages out of one of his Magic Eye books.
Damn. Lucas snatched the book away. Too suddenly; he gave her a fright. She whimpered.
“Hush, little baby,” he soothed. “You don’t want to wake Merry.” The whimper seemed about to turn into a full-out wail. Hell. Lucas gave her back the book. “Try to stick to the first section,” he said. “I’m only halfway through.”
Not that he was making much progress. Those stupid pictures still never did what they were supposed to.
He retreated to the kitchen. As a military guy he wasn’t comfortable with the concept of retreat, but he had to admit that’s what he was doing. Just while he made a pot of coffee. He needed a cup, and Merry would, too. Whenever the hell she woke up.
The dog scratched at the back door; Lucas let him in. As he poured boiling water into the French press, he heard an exclamation from the hallway.
Merry.
Lucas had already figured his tactics from the night she’d taken the pregnancy test weren’t going to work. He could say “We’re going to stay married” until he was blue in the face, but that wouldn’t make it happen.
He needed a new approach, a gentler approach. Hence Mia’s presence today, and why Lucas stuck his head out the door to the hallway and called, “Morning, honeybun.”
Friendly, casual, but acknowledging that no matter how little she liked it, they were no longer just friends.
She was halfway down the stairs, wearing a short—very short—terry robe, white with big black polka dots. Her hands were on hips.
“I don’t believe it,” she said. “I’m about five minutes pregnant, and already you’re childproofing the house?”
She tried to push the stair gate out of the way, but of course he’d done an excellent job of fixing it in place.
“Let me get that for you.” Lucas came to open it. “The gate’s for Mia’s benefit.”
Halfway through a yawn, Merry stopped. Despite her sleep-in, she had dark circles beneath her eyes. “Your dad and Stephanie are here? I’d better get dressed.”
“It’s just Mia,” he said. “I offered to babysit so Dad and Stephanie could have a day out.”
“You’re babysitting?” Merry asked incredulously.
“Yep. Though if you want to lend a hand, I won’t say no.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Ah, I get it. You’re playing house, trying to show me what a caring guy you are.”
He’d known she would see through him right away, but that didn’t matter. “Yeah, I do have a point to make. Contrary to your belief, I do like Mia—” at least, he fully expected to soon, though it would help if she stopped destroying his stuff “—and having me as the father of your child isn’t the worst thing in the world.”
“I already know that,” Merry said. “My point is, you’re the father regardless of whether we’re together or not.”
They were headed back over old ground. Time for a diversion. “I made coffee,” he said. “Come say hi to Mia and have a cup.”
Merry couldn’t logically refuse either of those, and she didn’t. She walked through the kitchen, picking up her coffee on the way to the living room.
“Hey, Mia— Oh, no!” She perched her cup on the bookcase. “She’s shredding one of your Magic Eye books.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “That one doesn’t work, anyway.”
“That doesn’t mean she can tear it up. She’ll think she’s allowed to demolish any book.”
He hadn’t thought of that.
Lucas watched while Merry gently scolded Mia, who accepted the confiscation of the book with guilty sheepishness. She didn’t seem to mind being plunked back down with her LEGOs.
“You moved the furniture,” Merry said, sounding confused.
“I covered up the electric sockets.” He’d pushed the chairs and sofas against the walls.
“I don’t think Stephanie worries too much about that stuff,” Merry said.
“That’s her choice, but Mia’s not going to get electrocuted on my watch.”
Merry shook
her head—and caught sight of his schedule on the couch. She picked it up, started to read. “‘Diaper Change—0955’?”
“It’s just a rough guide.” He sensed it would be a smart idea to deactivate the alarms he’d programmed into his cell phone for each of the items on his list. There was nothing wrong with being organized, but Merry would probably say it indicated a lack of emotion. “I’m totally flexible with all this,” he said.
“You’re completely out of your depth, aren’t you?” she replied.
He started to deny it, then realized she was smiling. Which she hadn’t done since they arrived at SaveMart on Friday night. And maybe he was a tiny bit out of his depth.
He swallowed his pride. “Yep,” he said humbly.
But she was still reading his notes. “Don’t pay any attention to that,” he said quickly. Too late. He saw the moment she reached the place he didn’t want her to go. Her brows drew together.
“Bonding? From two-thirty to two fifty-five?”
“It doesn’t have to be those specific times.” He cursed the impulse that had made him fill in the white spaces.
“How do you plan to achieve this bonding?”
She made it sound really dumb.
“I don’t have a strategy yet, but—”
She groaned. “It’s not a military exercise, Lucas, it’s about letting your feelings develop. Without trying to package them or restrict them.” She shook her head. “At least you’re trying, I guess.” She was still smiling, which was more than he’d expected.
“Are you around today?” he asked. “To spend time with me and Mia?”
“I’d arranged to meet Sarah for lunch, but I think I’d better cancel.”
“Thanks, Merry.”
“How about you cook me some eggs while I have a shower?”
At last, a job with a beginning and an end and clear measure of success or failure. “I can do that.”
* * *
WHEN MERRY CAME DOWN AFTER HER shower, Mia was in her high chair, which was clipped to the kitchen table, and Lucas was serving eggs and bacon.
“Impressive,” Merry said. Not referring to his chest lovingly molded by a worn T-shirt, nor to his butt in faded jeans.
He saluted her. “I’m keeping her out of trouble. Do you think she could eat a piece of apple?”
“Sure.” Merry pulled out a chair and sat. “You’re good with the Heimlich maneuver, right?”
He paled. She laughed. “Mia will be fine with some apple—I’ve seen Stephanie give it to her. But you should keep an eye on her as she eats.”
It wouldn’t be long, Merry realized, before they would be having similar conversations about their own baby. If Lucas was around. If he had his way and they somehow stayed together.
She realized Lucas had ceased all activity, too. He was watching her watch Mia.
His eyes met hers. “Is the reason you’ve gone quiet the same reason I’ve gone quiet?”
She nodded. “This is serious.”
They both eyed Mia, pulverizing the apple slice by banging it on her tray, oblivious to the new reality she’d painted for them.
Right now, this felt cozy, Merry thought. But it was like a game: someone else’s baby, someone else’s house, a marriage that had been one long game of “let’s pretend.”
The real thing… Who knew how that would feel?
“Let’s take Mia for a walk with Boo,” she said louder than necessary.
“Great idea,” Lucas said. “But we’d better eat first. You need to keep your strength up. So do I,” he added quickly, as if she was about to call him on his protective instincts.
After breakfast, they bundled Mia up until she resembled a powder puff. Lucas unfolded the stroller with ease and gave Merry a smirk.
“You want a medal for that?” she asked.
He grinned. “Nope. Got plenty of medals already. Are we good to go?”
“Just to let you know, Mia may fall asleep ahead of your schedule,” Merry warned.
He swatted her behind. “I’m flexible. You’ll see.”
Out in the street, Lucas made sure the sun wasn’t in Mia’s eyes, adjusting the hood of her stroller. Merry didn’t know what to make of his offer to babysit his sister. He’d admitted he wanted to impress Merry with his parenting skills…but he wasn’t just paying lip service to the task. Of course, Lucas would apply himself with dedication to any job. That was his nature. But he’d recognized with that agenda item—“Bonding (me/Mia)”—that there was more to it. Whether he was capable of embracing that more in such a way that it was more than just an agenda item…
Where did duty stop and love start? The lines were blurred, Merry realized. There was no sign post that said Here.
They headed for the half-mile promenade that started to the left of her dad’s place and led toward town. Lucas pushed the stroller, while Merry took Boo on his lead. It was mid-November, and already Christmas decorations hung from lamp posts. Would Lucas be gone by Christmas?
The thought chilled Merry. Probably because they were facing into the wind, which, though not strong, made it cold enough to huddle into their coats and not attempt conversation.
When they reached the restored city pier with its old-style streetlights and the historic, cone-topped building the locals called the Rocket Ship, the breeze dropped away and the sun seemed to try a bit harder.
“Let’s sit down.” Lucas pointed to one of the wooden benches that dotted the pier.
Merry turned her face to the sun, soaking up the wintry rays. After a minute she realized Lucas was watching a mom and dad with their two preschoolers, bundled up in coats, scarves and mittens, throwing bread crusts to a pack of greedy seagulls.
“Bad habit, feeding the gulls,” he said.
“It only encourages them to grow more aggressive,” she agreed. “And to foul the sidewalks.”
Still, there was something in the kids’ simple joy that captivated her.
“See how good that looks,” Lucas said. “The mom and dad together? Look how the kids are loving it.” They were; the girl kept looking to her mom for approval and the boy held his dad’s hand.
As they watched, the man kissed his wife. It started off as a peck, then she kissed him back, and they prolonged it a little. Even when they broke apart, their gazes held.
“A mom and dad who love each other,” Merry agreed. “You can’t beat it.”
Lucas snorted. Then, after a moment, he said, “Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear the other night. I’m not opposed to the idea of having feelings for you, Merry.”
She burst out laughing. “Did you hear what you just said?”
He grimaced. “Let me try again. I admit I’ve never been someone who wants to get emotionally entangled with a woman.”
“You mean, to fall in love,” Merry said.
He rolled his eyes. “Call it what you like. But if that’s what you want, then…maybe I could try it.”
“Could try what?” she asked, confused.
“I could try…developing those feelings.”
“Lucas, you can’t just decide to fall in love.”
“Okay, maybe I’m not talking about falling in love,” he said. “Who’s to say what that is, anyway? It’s just words that people put around an attraction, to make it sound deeper.”
“Says the guy with no depth perception,” Merry pointed out.
“Leaving that aside…” It seemed he’d made a tactical decision to stop knocking one of the concepts she held dear. “Loving someone—no falling, no cataclysm, just a…a steady thing. That doesn’t sound impossible. With you,” he added quickly.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He was putting so much thought into this, but missing the essence of what love was all about. “I imagine,” she said, “that if you’re really open to love, then you don’t get to choose which way you fall or don’t fall, and how the love ends up. Lucas, I don’t want a man who has to train himself to love me. I don’t see how that man would ever give me h
is heart.”
“There’s more to marriage than love, though,” he said.
“And there’s more to it than having a baby. The months spent with young babies go by quickly. If you and I stayed married, have you thought about what would take up the rest of the time? Day in, day out. Living together. Eating together.” She paused. “Sleeping together.”
He frowned, as if he hadn’t considered all that. “I’m attracted to you,” he said. “I know you feel the same.”
“On one level,” she admitted. She resisted the urge to look away, out to sea. With everything else that had happened, they might as well confront this particular reality. “But, Lucas, when it comes to practice rather than theory, I think we well and truly killed the physical attraction, don’t you?” Even if the theoretical side was alive and kicking.
“You mean, our wedding night.”
She nodded.
He ran a hand around the back of his neck. “Can I say in my defense I don’t believe I’m usually awful in bed?” Ruefully, he added, “I’m sorry I let you down.”
Could this conversation get any more awkward? “You don’t have to take all the blame. I was just as bad, and, uh, I don’t think I’m usually so terrible, either.” She drew a breath and forced herself to continue. “Let’s face it. Although there’s been a spark between us over the years, the reality is we’re not good together.”
“I don’t think you can make that judgment on the strength of one or two encounters.” He leaned forward to adjust the angle of Mia’s sunshade. “If I were to kiss you now, the way that guy over there just kissed his wife, things might be quite different.”
As Lucas sat back, his eyes were on her mouth. Reflexively, Merry licked her lips.
“I doubt it,” she said. Of course, the idea sounded tempting in theory.
“Wouldn’t hurt to try,” he said casually.
“It might.”
His smile was quizzical. “We’re in public, no chance of things getting out of hand.”
She spurted a laugh. “No chance of that, anyway.”
Something kindled in his eyes. A light she’d seen there ever since she was a kid—the light of challenge—but now with an added adult dimension.
