Cullen found Lily and the girls and sat with them, and they all cheered for George and his team. The last fifteen minutes of the game, the score was neck and neck. It was a one-point game, so every basket mattered. George’s team would score and the other team would take the ball right back down the court and answer it with another basket. So much for defense, Cullen thought, but maybe he’d work with the boy on that. Maybe George would end up playing ball in high school. For a couple of minutes Cullen imagined him and Lily going to watch all the home games and introducing them to his friends as his aunt Lily and uncle Cullen.
He glanced at Lily, trying on the fantasy.
While he looked away, something happened on the court. George and the kid from the other team were tussling over the ball. Each boy had a grip on it in a last-minute showdown. They were yanking on it so hard that the two boys were nearly standing in a circle trying to gain possession.
George’s team led by one point. The small crowd got to its feet.
Cullen, Lily and the girls cheered, “Go, George, go! Get the ball.”
As if bolstered by the support, George gave one quick, decisive yank and jerked the ball free. Holding it to his chest, he hesitated for a second, looking up in the stands. He made eye contact with Cullen, who cheered wildly.
“That’s my boy! Way to go! You got this.”
Even though his team had the lead, it would be so great for his confidence if he could score the final basket. According to Lily, last night’s sleepover with some of the guys on the team had been a breakthrough of sorts. George was making friends and showing so much confidence out on the court.
Then, as if it happened in slow motion, George took off running. The wrong way. He was running the wrong way down the court. The crowd was yelling again. Cullen was trying to get his attention to tell him to turn around and go the other way. Even if he held on to the ball until the clock ran out, his team would win, but George seemed to be so caught up in the frenzy that he shot the ball at the basket and scored the final two points for the other team.
Lily reached out and took ahold of Cullen’s hand and whispered, “Oh, boy. Oh, no.”
The opposing team won the match by one point.
For a split second the entire gymnasium went absolutely silent. George’s teammates stood stock-still on the court, gaping at him in disbelief.
Then the guys on the other team broke out into a frenzy of cheers and applause, exhibiting terrible sportsmanship. They jeered at George and slapped high fives with each other as they taunted George for winning the game for them. Wasn’t someone going to stop them? Someone really needed to sit them down and talk to them about that. In fact, in all fairness, shouldn’t they forfeit the basket because of unsportsmanlike behavior?
But the damage had already been done. That would only bring more attention to George’s error.
Cullen turned to Lily. “Why don’t you go ahead and take the girls home? I’ll go get George and try to do some damage control.”
“Are you sure?” Lily asked him.
“Yes, I’ve got this.” He was driven by an incredibly overwhelming sense of protectiveness. A long time ago, he had been the kid on the team who made the mistake and there was no one there to stand up for him. His mom had been working and his dad was nowhere to be found. Cullen had been left to fend for himself. It was the worst feeling in the world for a little boy. Cullen knew he might not be father material, but this, this was personal.
As Lily ushered the girls from the gymnasium, Cullen made his way down to the court to retrieve George, who was still standing frozen underneath the basket.
“Hey, buddy,” he said. “How about we go get that banana split we talked about?”
Where was the coach? Cullen wanted to tear into him right now for not being there to reinforce that it was just a game and George had done the best he could do. Hell, George had been doing a great job till the end. This was the kind of thing that could scar a kid for life. It could make him turn inward—or push him further inward than he already was.
One of the refs was shuffling some papers and for a split second Cullen considered going over and tearing him a new one for letting the boys on the other team get away with acting the way they did. Then he looked at George, who was standing there staring into space as if he weren’t completely there.
The best thing he could do for the boy was get him the hell out of there. Three minutes later the two of them were buckled into Cullen’s car, pulling out of the community center, leaving the bad memory in the dust. Maybe not immediately, but the faster he got the kid the ice cream, the sooner George would see that the errant basket didn’t matter.
As he pointed the car in the direction of Polar Bear Ice Cream, Cullen pondered what to say. Should he start with how wrong the boys on the other team had been to act the way they did? Or no, maybe a softer approach about this just being a game, not brain surgery—ha-ha, a little medical humor? But no, that would seem to trivialize it.
Damn it, why was this so hard?
They’d been on the road for five minutes when the boy leaned over and buried his head in Cullen’s shoulder and began to sob.
Cullen’s mind went completely blank. He sat there for a good two minutes with both hands gripping the steering wheel as the boy blubbered.
There were no words that would talk him out of that state of mind. Now that he was away from the guys on the team and the sting of what happened had set in, Cullen decided it was probably best just to let the boy cry it out.
Unsure if it was the right thing to do, but not having any other ideas, Cullen eased one arm around the boy and clumsily patted his right shoulder.
Less than two minutes later they approached Polar Bear Ice Cream, but before Cullen could turn in the drive, he noticed some of the boys from George’s team were there.
Nope. Not a good idea. Thank God George hadn’t seen them because he had his face buried in Cullen’s armpit, crying at a steady convulsive sob.
Cullen drove right past the place and before he knew it he was on the open road headed toward Dallas.
Sometimes it was just better to get out of town where nobody knew you until you could get yourself together.
They got to Dallas about twenty minutes later and drove around with no particular destination in mind for another half hour. Finally George lifted his head and scooted back over. Cullen returned his right hand to the steering wheel and turned the car in the direction of Celebration.
Before they made it to the main highway, Cullen spied a fast-food restaurant ahead. Without a word, he steered the car into the restaurant’s drive-through.
“What flavor shake do you want?” he asked the boy.
“Chocolate.”
He ordered two large chocolate shakes. When they were ready he handed one to the boy, fixed one for himself and they nursed them all the way home.
Neither one said a word, but by the time they were home George’s eyes were no longer red. He’d blown his nose on one of the napkins that they’d gotten at the restaurant. No one would be the wiser about his emotions.
His secret was safe with Cullen. Except that he would tell Lily. He had to tell Lily—in case he was somehow damaging the boy by not encouraging him to talk about his emotions.
God, this parenthood gig wasn’t for amateurs.
Milk-shake cups in hand, the two got out of the car and started toward the front door. Halfway up the walk, George stopped. Cullen thought maybe the kid had left something in the car. He was ready to toss him the keys when George threw his arms around Cullen’s waist and hugged him hard. It nearly knocked Cullen off balance, it was so unexpected.
* * *
“That’s all we said the entire time we were out,” Cullen said to Lily once the children were in bed and they had a chance to talk about the day’s turn of events over a glass of
wine. “I don’t know why he hugged me. I didn’t do anything to help him. The only words we exchanged the entire time we were out were What flavor shake do you want? And Chocolate.
“What should I have said or done to help him? I should’ve done something.”
Lily reached out and took his hand. He laced his fingers through hers and held on tight.
“But you did do something,” she said. “Sometimes less is more. Sometimes showing up is all you need to do.”
She instantly regretted the words as soon as they’d slipped from her lips. Maybe talking about showing up hit too close to home after he’d shared the bad situation with his father. He’d been so bent on DNA and his father’s bad traits being in his genes. Maybe she shouldn’t have brought it up when emotions were so raw like right now.
“Unfortunately kids don’t come with an instruction manual. You just have to go with your gut. See, you have good instincts.”
He shook his head. She couldn’t tell if he was traumatized or maybe a little shocked and in awe of himself.
“I couldn’t do this on a regular basis,” he said.
Lily squinted at him. “Are you serious? You really don’t want kids?”
Rather than answer, Cullen picked up his wineglass and took a long pull.
“I have to be honest with you. That’s a...a deal breaker for me. Not only do I want kids, I want a bunch of them. You were an only child, too. Don’t you regret not having siblings?”
He whistled through his teeth and shook his head. “As hard as my mother had to work to put food on the table and keep a roof over our heads? And she only had one. There’s no way. No way I could do this with a whole brood.”
“You judge how you would be by the way your father was. In fact, it seems like it would make you even more determined to be the kind of father you wish he would have been. You’re stable, Cullen. You have so much to offer and these kids really need you.”
He shook his head again, looking beleaguered, sort of like she’d backed him into a corner.
“It doesn’t matter. Look at Greg. He had everything in the world going for him. He still ended up letting down his kids.”
Lily snorted. “Because he had the audacity to die? I mean, sure, it’s a sad situation—my own parents died when I was ten years old. I certainly don’t mean to make light of it, but we’re all going to die someday, Cullen. You can’t stop living because you’re afraid to die.”
“I’m not afraid of death. I guess I’ve never seen myself being a father. Look, it’s been a long day. I don’t think we should be having this conversation now.”
“If not now, when, Cullen? I think we need to talk about it sooner rather than later.”
When he didn’t answer, she said, “We need to give this some major thought. I don’t know if we’re going to work, because it looks to me like we want completely different lives.”
Chapter Fourteen
For the next two and a half days, Cullen threw himself into work. With so many things going for them, how could he and Lily have reached such an impasse? But to have children or not to have them was a fundamental decision for a couple. It was part of the foundation that their relationship was built on.
With Lily, it had been love at first sight. He had never experienced it before and frankly he didn’t expect it to happen again. Sure, he could probably find someone or many someones down the road. But they wouldn’t be Lily. Why did they have to have a fundamental difference as large as the Grand Canyon threatening to keep them apart?
Was it fair to expect her to sacrifice having kids of her own? For God’s sake, she was a teacher. Kids were her calling. But was it any better to go against his own nature?
As he was turning off his computer, his gaze fell on a picture that Hannah had drawn for him with very strict instructions that he was to take it to work because this picture was for his desk. He’d done it, too. Here it was, front and center on his desk as if it meant something to him.
The drawing must have meant something to him. Otherwise it would still be in the car or would have gotten lost en route. But he’d never really looked at it.
He picked up the piece of notebook paper and examined it. It was a rudimentary drawing of a house with a red front door and smoke coming out of the chimney. A bunch of stick figures stood in front of the house. She’d drawn four females—or so he guessed they were females judging by the triangles that seemed to represent skirts and bows in their hair. Next to them were two more figures, unadorned except for the big smiles that took up the majority of their faces. Those must be guys.
Picture in hand, Cullen leaned back in his chair.
Four girls and two guys. It was obviously a depiction of Cullen and Lily with the kids. The hands of the tallest female and male stick figures intersected. Had she drawn them holding hands?
She was a smart girl. She’d probably picked up on more than Lily realized.
He could hear Lily saying, Kids are more perceptive than you think.
Obviously.
He returned the picture to its place on his desk and finished shutting down his computer. It was Christmas Eve, and he was working only until noon. Now that he and Lily had a chance to cool off and think rationally, he’d planned on taking the rest of the day off and spending it with them.
It had snowed last night, covering everything with a fluffy blanket of white. After he finished his Christmas shopping, he intended to track Lily and the kids outside to build a snowman. It was Christmas Eve. Today they would put aside their differences and just be together.
He grabbed his phone, his keys and his coat, wished merry Christmas to the skeleton crew that was making time and a half working the holiday and headed out.
He was waiting for the elevator when his cell phone rang. The name Cameron Brady, the family-law attorney he’d hired, flashed on the display.
“Merry Christmas, Cam. Are you working on Christmas Eve, too?”
“Merry Christmas to you, too, Cullen. I’m always working. No rest for the weary and all that hogwash. Listen, I’m calling with semi-good news. It’s not exactly the big present from Santa that the kids are hoping for, but it’s a start. I wanted to run it by you and see what you think.”
“What do you have for me, Cam?”
Elevator doors opened, but Cullen turned around and walked back to his office, where he could talk to Cam privately.
“Like I said, it’s not exactly the news you were hoping for, but I’ve found a family that is interested in adopting the two youngest girls.”
Cullen watched the snow fall from his office window as he digested the attorney’s words.
“The family lives in Oklahoma City. That’s about a three-hour drive from Celebration.”
“They’re not interested in taking all four? Keeping them together is a priority.”
“Right, but so was placing them before the school session reconvenes after the holidays. Right now this is the best I can do. We might be able to find an Oklahoma-based foster family that’s willing to take in the older two. But at least the younger two will be settled by the first of the year and won’t have to be uprooted after they start school.”
Cullen was silent. What was he supposed to say? “This isn’t optimum, Cam.”
The attorney heaved a weary sigh. “I know, I know. But I have to level with you, Cullen. It’s a long shot thinking you’re going to find a family that will take all four of them. More than a long shot. It’s pretty close to impossible. At least with the time constraints. If you’re willing to keep them or put them in foster care while we search, that’s a different story. Even so, it’s not an easy row to hoe.
“Why don’t you think about it, or talk to the kids, see how they feel about it and give me a call back? Kids are resilient.”
“Thanks, Cam. I’ll be in touch.”
&n
bsp; The snow was falling like tears from heaven when Cullen hung up the phone. If he thought having kids was difficult, making the decision whether or not to give them up was excruciating.
He was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t. And to think it had all started with an off-the-cuff promise to a little girl. Now their fate was in his hands.
What kind of Christmas would it be if he told the kids he was splitting them up? They would be devastated and Lily would never forgive him. But this decision was about what was best for the kids.
The only thing he knew for sure was that he was going to wait until after Christmas to tell them. He wanted them to have this holiday as a family, without any added stress or sadness. It was the least he could do.
* * *
On Christmas morning, the six of them gathered around the Christmas tree. Lily had taken care to set out Santa’s presents and wrap the remaining gifts as beautifully as possible. She’d purchased several small gifts for each child so the tree would look festive and the kids would have fun opening lots of presents.
She and Cullen had been like ships passing each other since their conversation on Sunday. He’d been gone a lot, which made it easier. She didn’t see how this was going to end any other way than badly.
She was glad he was willing to wait until after Christmas for them to have the talk. Today, she put on a cheerful face. She was going to make darn sure neither of them tripped over the elephant in the room.
She’d even gotten him a Christmas present. A crystal decanter etched with his initials. He hadn’t been easy to buy for. What in the world did you get a man who had everything?
Everything except the main thing he needed.
But that wasn’t her call. The last thing she wanted to do was force him into saying that he wanted children when he didn’t. That would be worse than the marriage ultimatum she’d leveled on Josh.
She finally got it. She saw the writing on the wall clearly. Two people had to come to a meeting of the minds before they could be happy as a couple. You couldn’t strong-arm somebody into important life decisions. Because the heart wanted what the heart wanted. And sometimes there was just no getting around fundamental differences.
Harlequin Special Edition November 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: The Maverick's Thanksgiving BabyA Celebration ChristmasDr. Daddy's Perfect Christmas Page 38
