by Holly Jacobs
He tried to convince himself that this sudden attraction to Mia was simply gratitude for all the help she’d given him. But he suspected it might be something more.
And he was man enough to admit—if only to himself—that that suspicion scared him to the core.
He’d always dated women who understood the rules. Women who would come close, but only so close. When a relationship was done, there were no regrets, just some fond memories.
But that wasn’t Mia. She wasn’t casual. She was a happily-ever-after sort of woman. Which is why these feelings—his need to be with her—didn’t make sense.
He realized he’d been musing about Mia and his out-of-whack feelings for her all the way from the courthouse to the office.
“Hey,” she said with a smile as he walked in the door.
He purposely didn’t stomp the snow off his feet, just to annoy her. But she was so busy telling him about Katie that she didn’t even notice, which meant she wasn’t annoyed, and wasn’t sniping.
“…she spent most of the day playing with Grandpa Leland. If he’s not with her, someone else is trying to get her. I almost need a sign-out sheet to keep track.”
Mac smiled as he listened, but his eyes were focused on the brochure on Mia’s desk. A college brochure.
“What’s that?” he asked.
She looked down. “Oh. I’m thinking about finishing my degree.”
“You’ll be quitting here, then?” he asked, surprised at how gruff his voice sounded.
Mia didn’t seem to notice. She just smiled and said, “No. You’re not getting rid of me that easy, Larry. I’ll need a job when I go back because I’ll still need to eat.”
Something eased in Mac’s chest. Something he hadn’t even realized had been clenched while he waited for her answer.
“I’m taking Katie with me this afternoon,” was all he said, because if he said he was relieved she wouldn’t be leaving she might take the comment for something other than it was. After all, who would he spar with if it wasn’t for Mia?
She looked confused. “What’s up?”
“Her mother’s funeral.” His answer sounded short even to his own ears.
Mia’s expression softened to one of sympathy. He could hear it in her voice as well as when she said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was today.”
“I didn’t either until yesterday. I talked to the social worker. She said she hadn’t been able to track down any family at all. Not surprising, really. That’s why Marion O’Keefe came to see me. She had no one else.”
“So who made the arrangements?” Mia asked. “The state?”
“Me.”
Mac couldn’t stand the thought of Marion O’Keefe all alone and unclaimed. Buried by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. Not mourned by anyone.
He might not have known her, but what he knew of her he admired. He’d not only watch over her daughter, but do this one last thing for Marion O’Keefe.
“You?” Mia asked.
“She’s Katie’s mother. She was a good mother. Concerned for her baby’s future before she was even born. She deserves a real service. Kim Lindsay’s sending over what few possessions Marion had.”
“Where’s the funeral?”
Mac shook his head. “It’s just a graveside service. I don’t know if Marion O’Keefe was religious or not, so, I thought something simple was best.”
Mia nodded. “When and where?”
“Erie Cemetery at noon.”
“Good. That’s my lunch hour. I’ll be there.”
“You don’t have to,” he said.
“Neither did you. You didn’t have to do any of this. Sign on as guardian for a stranger, step in and make final arrangements for a client. But you did, you are. So will I.”
“Thanks,” he said, taking Mia’s hand and giving it a small squeeze.
She smiled at him. “You’re a nice guy, Larry.”
There was no heat in her voice as she said his given name. Her smile warmed it, making it almost a pet-name rather than a way to needle him.
“Thanks, Mia. You’re pretty nice yourself.”
Realizing he was still holding her hand, he pulled his back. “Listen, can Katie stay with you a few more minutes while I run upstairs and return a few calls?”
“You know you don’t even need to ask.” She paused, then asked, “The calls? Are they about adoptive parents?”
“No. I met with people from the agency, but I don’t know if I want to go through them. I’m still weighing my options.”
He had the paperwork. All he had to do was sign it, and return it, and the ball would be set in motion.
The sooner he signed, the sooner Katie could find her family. The problem was, he wasn’t sure the agency would get Katie the kind of family she deserved.
Oh, he could participate. He could interview, question prospective parents, but in the end, he could still pick the wrong people. People who might let Katie down.
Failing Katie wasn’t an option.
Somehow he had to be sure that she’d get the kind of parents she deserved. The best.
“You’re thinking about keeping her?” Mia asked, hope in her voice.
“No.” He turned and went up the stairs without another word.
No. He might not know how to ensure Katie got the parents she deserved, but he knew she deserved more than he’d ever be able to give her.
Somehow he would figure it out.
Mia watched Mac storm up the stairs. Her question had obviously annoyed him.
Not that long ago, annoying Mac without even trying would have seemed like a bonus.
She looked at Katie who was dozing in her car seat. “He doesn’t want to let you go, which is one of the big reasons he’s going to let you go.”
It didn’t make sense to Mia.
But then not much about Mac had never made sense to Mia. The fact that she felt closer to him didn’t change the fact she didn’t understand him.
He was a puzzle. Every time she thought she had him figured, had found the right pieces and was going to finally put it all together, she realized she was even more confused.
This last week had shown her that Mac was worth figuring out, so she wasn’t going to stop trying. But right now, she had other things to take care of.
She had calls to make.
Mac probably wouldn’t be pleased. Asking for help or support wasn’t something he did.
But Mia had no such compunctions.
She was going to ask, and when Mac got mad, she’d tell him she’d done it for Katie.
And in her heart of hearts she knew that for Katie, Mac would ask or do anything.
Mac held the well-bundled, squirming baby tight as he walked back to his car.
He turned and looked over his shoulder again.
He didn’t know what to make of it.
It was freezing out. Another storm was threatening to blow in off the lake. The clouds were dark and ominous.
Not a fit day to be outdoors.
And yet, half the Square had given up their lunch breaks and turned out for Marion O’Keefe’s service.
Almost the entire firm had come to the simple ceremony. Other people from the Square had come as well. Pearly, along with her sidekicks, Mabel and Josie. Libby, Josh, Louisa, Joe…
They’d all come to put Marion O’Keefe to rest. A woman they’d never met.
“You called them?” Mac said to Mia as they walked back to the car.
“Don’t be mad,” she said.
“I didn’t need them. I—”
She interrupted him. “I know, the great Larry Mackenzie doesn’t need or want anyone. But it wasn’t for you. It was for Katie. Someday you can tell her that there were people here. That there were flowers. Becca at the flower shop did a great job on such short notice.”
Mac had been struck by the flowers when he’d first arrived. The arrangements looked incongruous against the stark, snowy landscape.
“Katie deserves to know that people sa
id goodbye to her mother for her when she wasn’t old enough to do it herself,” Mia said softly.
“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. They were here for Katie.”
He glanced again at the small group all walking back to their cars.
They’d come for the baby. That he could understand.
“No,” Mia said, shaking her head. “They’re here for you.”
“Me?” He strapped Katie into her car seat, puzzling over that.
As he stood and shut the passenger door, Mia lightly touched his cheek. “Mac, I don’t think you realize how many friends you have.”
The departing crowd suddenly made him nervous. “I didn’t ask.”
“No. You didn’t. You wouldn’t. But I would and did. For you. For Katie. For Marion O’Keefe. I think Katie’s mother was a special woman.”
Some of his panic receded. For Marion and Katie. That’s why the crowd had come out. That was easier to accept, than the thought that they had come for him.
That kind of friendship carried with it a burden that Mac didn’t really want to accept. He didn’t want to owe anyone because they might ask for repayment and he wouldn’t be able to help them. He’d let them down.
Letting people down. It was in his genes. He might fight against it, try to avoid it, but still on a personal level, he didn’t trust himself. He didn’t want anyone to count on him.
“I didn’t know Marion O’Keefe, other than those couple visits, but yes, I believe she was special.”
Speaking of special women…Mac took Mia’s hand and smiled at her, hoping she could tell how much he appreciated what she’d done.
She smiled back, giving his hand a small squeeze.
“Are you going back into the office?” she asked.
“I’m way behind in paperwork. I should use what’s left of the afternoon to try and make a dent. But dinner after work?”
Every day he asked, and every day he held his breath until she answered.
“Sure,” she said.
He exhaled and smiled.
“I’ll cook tonight,” she continued. “We’ve just about exhausted the local take-out options.”
“We could stop and pick up tacos again. I know they’re your favorite.”
He even knew what her selections would be…nachos with everything and that chicken thing she always ordered.
“Even a favorite gets old if you do it too many times. I can handle cooking.” She paused a moment, then asked, “You’re not afraid to eat my cooking, are you?”
He walked around the car and got in. Mia was already buckling her seat belt.
“Can you cook?” he asked, rather than straight-out answer her question.
“I grew up with brothers…brothers who like to eat. Of course I can. I put all the ingredients in my car this morning.”
She’d packed the ingredients. She’d been planning on coming home with him.
No. Not with him. For him. For Katie. All this was for Katie, he reminded himself.
But despite the warning he gave himself, he smiled.
“So what are we having?” he asked.
“My world-famous potato soup. That is, unless you don’t like potato soup. If you hate it, we’re back to take-out.”
“Soup sounds perfect today,” he admitted.
“After work then?” she asked.
“After work.”
Perfect.
It wasn’t just soup that sounded perfect…it was eating it with Mia Gallagher.
The thought disturbed him, but not enough to make him cancel.
Nothing could have made him cancel.
The great Larry Mackenzie doesn’t need or want anyone.
The words had just slipped out, but Mia recognized the truthfulness in them. They’d nagged at her the rest of the day.
They were still nagging at her as she prepared dinner.
There was something in Mac that didn’t want to let people in. He didn’t hold them at arm’s length. No, he invited them in with his humor and jokes, but only let them in so far.
Although they’d fallen into a comfortable relationship, a friendship with an occasional bout of their old banter to spice things up, truth was, Mac hadn’t really let her in either.
He’d shared that one small story about his friend Chet and the makeshift sled. That was it.
She stirred the soup with a bit more gusto than necessary. It was something simple and filling. Perfect for a cold winter day.
“Come and get it,” she called as she ladled up two bowls. She set them on the table along with the crusty French bread and bowl of grated cheese.
“Wow,” Mac said as he came into the kitchen cradling Katie. “At least it smells like you can cook.”
Mia loved to see him hold Katie.
There was no distance, no staying safe. He might want to think there was, but the fact he’d fallen head-over-heels for Katie O’Keefe was evident.
“Want me to take her while you eat?” she asked.
“No. We’ve got a system. I will let you butter me a piece of bread though. I can eat one-handed, but haven’t figured out buttering or cutting one-handed yet.”
She laughed and obliged him. Setting a piece of buttered bread on his plate as he took his first sip of the soup.
He made a mming sound. “You didn’t lie. You can cook.”
“Like I said, two brothers with bottomless pits for stomachs helped me learn. I don’t do fancy, but I do filling.”
They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. Katie gurgled happily to herself, content to sit on Mac’s lap. Mia couldn’t help but steal glances at the two of them. They were so right together.
Why didn’t Mac see it?
“So, did you make any adoption headway?” she asked.
“I’ve started checking around, but haven’t done much. I’m having a hard time thinking about placing her with strangers. The perfect solution would be to place her with someone I know, someone who would allow me to play benevolent uncle. Someone—”
He stopped mid-sentence and looked lost in thought.
“Mac?” Mia asked.
“I have an idea,” he said, excitement in his voice.
“What?”
“No. Let me think about it some more before I say anything.”
“But, Mac,” she protested.
He finally focused back in on her and laughed. “You know, I’ve learned a lot about you recently. You’re good with babies. You can cook. And I’ve learned that patience isn’t one of your virtues.”
“No. It’s not,” she said.
She knew she sounded petulant. She was petulant. She hated waiting. She was the kind of person who peeked at Christmas presents if she had a chance.
“I’ll tell you soon. I just need to mull it over for a bit, to see if it could work.”
Mia sighed. “Fine.”
“Let’s talk about that college brochure.”
“You’re changing the subject.”
He laughed again. “Yes, I am.”
Whatever new idea he’d had lightened his mood immensely.
“College? Tell me more,” he prompted.
“What’s to say? I’m seriously thinking about going back in the fall.”
“Full-time?” he asked.
“Evenings and weekends. I talked to Mr. Wagner and he said if I need an afternoon or morning class, he’ll work it out with me. Hanni and Liesl both already said they’d fill in.”
“How many more credits do you need for your degree?”
“One year of credits, then student teaching, and I’ll be official.”
“A teacher?” he said slowly.
Mia geared up for one of his wisecracks, but all he said was, “You’d be good at it.”
“I like kids. Someday I want my own. Three or four at least.”
“Four?”
She laughed. “I know, big families are getting rarer, but I can’t imagine life without my brothers. When I have kids, I want them to have siblings.”
<
br /> “But you’ve sacrificed so much for your brothers. You had to put everything on hold. If you’d been an only child, you’d have only had to worry about yourself.”
“Being alone like that might mean less worries, but it’s also lonely. Whatever I did for my brothers, it was worth it. Marty and Ryan deserved the chance.”
“And you?” Mac pressed. “What did you deserve? Quitting school? Putting aside your own dreams?”
“I just put them on hold. And now, the boys have both graduated and it’s my turn to fulfill those dreams. I’ll get my degree, teach—”
“Find some man who will never really be worthy of you, marry him, have his kids and have given everything up all over again? That’s your plan?”
“Mac, when you love someone and they love you, there’s no giving up involved. You get back so much more than you lose. Watching Marty and Ryan succeed, knowing I helped make their dreams a reality, that’s something worthwhile. They needed me after Mom died, and I was there.”
He didn’t look convinced.
Mia felt sorry for him. To live your life that alone, to never need anyone, never allow yourself to count on anyone. She knew she could never live like that.
“Since I cooked, you wash the dishes and I’ll get Katie Cupcakes here ready for bed.”
Mia might work at the firm while she was back in school, but she’d have to quit when she got her degree, Mac realized as he scrubbed the soup pot.
She’d leave and work at the job she’d always dreamed of. He was happy for her. Happy that she was finally free to pursue her goals.
But he’d miss her at the office.
She brightened the place up, although he’d never say that to her.
She kept him on his toes, always willing to join him in a verbal sparring match. He’d miss that.
He’d miss her.
How on earth had that happened?
He dried the pan and put it back on its hook.
“She was out before I even laid her in the crib,” Mia said, setting the baby monitor on the table. “But she’ll probably be up again for a bottle before long.”
“That’s fine. I try to feed her right before I call it a night. Most of the time that’s enough to keep her quiet until morning. And I kind of like that late feeding. It’s dark and quiet. She has a habit of holding on to my shirt while she drinks the bottle, as if she’s afraid I’ll slip away.”
