Unexpectedly Yours

by Coleen Kwan

  “You told me you were taking me to Costco. You tricked me.”

  “If you want to go to Costco, then I’m sure Mrs. Pascoe will be happy to take you, once you’ve apologized.” His grandfather puffed up with stubbornness, but Derek was in no mood to tiptoe around him. “I don’t want to hear any more of your blustering. You’re doing this, Grandpa.”

  Otto eyed him for a moment, clearly nonplussed by his assertiveness. “What’s biting you?”

  Only the whole damn world. When Derek had arrived back from Hannah’s house yesterday, he had been physically sick. He had spent the rest of the day driving aimlessly about, trying and failing to outrun his churning thoughts. Today, he was still nauseous inside, but he was determined to forge on. No point in stopping and wallowing in self-pity.

  “I’m going back to L.A. tomorrow,” he said. “That means we’ve only got today to get Mrs. Pascoe back, otherwise we’ll have to consider other alternatives.”

  That seemed to galvanize his granddad. “Okay, okay, I’ll go talk to her,” he grumbled. He climbed out of the car and hobbled toward the house.

  Derek watched him. One problem potentially fixed. The others, not so much. His gut soured as he recalled Hannah’s infuriated expression when she’d called him an ass and said she deserved better. He’d had far worse insults hurled at him, but none cut him this deep. His shoulders heaved, and a weird prickle stung the back of his throat. He hadn’t felt this bad since his mom had dumped him on Otto.

  It wasn’t just injured pride. He was cut to the bone because Hannah didn’t feel the same way as he did. Now that he was alone and had time to figure out his feelings, the truth was staring him in the face. He was in love with Hannah. Not superficial-crush in love, but soul-deep in love. She owned his heart, whether he liked it or not, forever.

  Closing his eyes, he pressed his forehead against the wheel as his emotions rushed out and overwhelmed him. He was so used to masking his feelings that it hurt to let them out. His ribs were aching, and he had to gasp for air. God, was this what it was like to be in love with someone? A few sobs choked out of his throat, and he didn’t try to hold them back.

  Eventually the storm passed, and he wiped his face and took some deep breaths. What was he going to do now? The only thing he could think of was to carry on as planned. He’d get his granddad sorted and return to L.A. and…and then what? A terrifying blank opened up in his mind. He couldn’t contemplate a future without Hannah.

  Before he could dwell on it, Otto came back with the good news that Mrs. Pascoe had accepted his apology and would resume looking after him from tomorrow.

  “She’s taking me to Costco on Monday,” Otto said as they drove home. “She’s not a bad old bird.”

  She was a saint, Derek thought to himself and resolved to give the woman a raise. Now, there truly was nothing left to keep him here. Tomorrow he would go back to L.A. But that terrifying blank inside him was bigger than ever and threatening to swallow him up.

  When they reached home, Derek withdrew to the garage. Now that his granddad’s care was sorted, he was free to brood over Hannah’s rejection of him. But instead of letting himself get depressed, he sat at the workbench with a drawing pad and the piece of English oak, and began designing the crib. Everything else might be imploding about him, but crafting something beautiful out of wood was still in his control. As he sketched out his plans, the thicket of knots inside him loosened, and each time he touched the wood, he felt himself grow calmer. He wouldn’t stop at a crib. He would make a high chair, too, and a train set, a rocking horse, a cubby house…

  Then, a shadow fell across his workbench, and when he looked up to find Caleb at the garage door, all that calm vanished, and his barriers reared up again.

  Caleb’s hands were shoved into the back pockets of his jeans. His expression was wary. “Can we talk?”

  Derek set down his pencil and crossed his arms over his chest. “That depends. Are you going to take another swing at me?”

  Caleb’s gaze fixed on Derek’s jaw as he grimaced. “Sorry about that. Does it hurt?”

  “Nope.” Nothing dished out by Caleb’s fist could hurt as much as words. “Whaddaya want?”

  “Uh, I came here to apologize for the things I said yesterday.”

  Was it only yesterday morning when he’d woken up in Hannah’s bed? He’d thought it might be the start of something new between them, but then everything had crashed and burned as soon as Caleb had turned up and shoved the cold, hard truth down Derek’s throat.

  “Which things in particular?” He wasn’t in a very charitable mood.

  “About—about you not being good enough for Hannah.” Caleb’s face screwed up with agitation. “I never meant that, man.”

  “Then why did you say it?” Derek’s ribs had started to ache.

  “This…this is hard to admit, but I’ve always envied the way women fall at your feet. In high school, you had the prettiest girls running after you, and then you moved to L.A. and suddenly you’re dating hot women like Marla Beaudry. And then you visit here for like two seconds and you even have my sister falling for you. It’s like, I dunno, black magic or something. You’ve always had tons of it, while I can only manage a lame card trick.”

  Derek stared at his friend, stunned almost speechless. “You’re jealous of that?”

  “It’s stupid, I know.”

  Derek dragged a hand over his face, not sure how to respond. “Caleb, you know what I envy about you? The way you can make friends so easily with anybody, anywhere, anytime.”

  “Huh? You’re jealous of that?”

  “Exactly. So we’re even, right?”

  Caleb lifted a shoulder. “Guess so.”

  Feeling slightly less tense, Derek pushed a stool toward Caleb and motioned for him to sit. “Didn’t think you’d be talking to me so soon. What happened?”

  Caleb pulled a face as he sat. “Amber is what happened. She came over and gave me hell. That woman is scary when she’s all fired up, but she made me see sense. I apologized to Hannah this morning, and now I’m apologizing to you.” He sighed. “I’m still coming to terms with it all, but I’m getting there.”

  Derek nodded as he mulled over everything Caleb had said. “For your information, Hannah is not in the same class as girls from high school or Marla Beaudry. She’s much more than that.”

  “Yeah?”

  He shied away from the question in Caleb’s eyes. “She’s always been a great friend, and I want you to know I’m going to do everything possible to help with the—the baby.”

  Caleb nodded. “She could do with a new car.”

  “I don’t just mean money. I mean taking care of the baby itself.” Crap, he shouldn’t be calling the baby “it,” should he?

  “You mean like doing the whole diapers and bottles thing?”

  “Well, sure.” Derek paused, waiting for the familiar ball of panic to wedge in his throat at the thought of taking care of a helpless child. But this time it barely registered. He was getting used to the idea of being a hands-on dad. More than that, he was looking forward to it. Why else was he designing a crib?

  “But how will you do that when you’re based in L.A.?”

  The house and barn he’d inspected the other day flashed through his brain. He could give up his TV show, relocate his business here. His partner could continue to run the retail store in L.A. while Derek crafted his furniture in Pine Falls. The logistics would be complicated but nothing he couldn’t overcome. Nervous excitement beat in his chest. But it was way too soon to be making such a big commitment. Especially when Hannah had more or less told him she didn’t want anything from him. His chest deflated.

  “It was just an idea,” he muttered.

  “No, I think it’s a great idea.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah.” Caleb scratched his shoulder. “I’m sure you’d be great at changing diapers and making bottles.”

  “You really think that?” It mattered to him what his best fr
iend thought.

  “I know you, buddy. If you put your mind to something, there’s no stopping you, whether it’s getting into trouble or being a dad.”

  “Thanks.” Derek glanced down at his crib sketches so he had a moment to recover. “That means a lot to me.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, they stood, shuffled awkwardly closer, and exchanged slaps and hugs.

  “Hey, is that a crib?” Caleb pointed at Derek’s sketch as soon as they pulled apart.

  Derek nodded. “I’ve never made one before. Hell, everything’s going to be a first for me.”

  “I’m sure it’s gonna be the best crib.”

  Derek toyed with his pencil for a few seconds, but eventually he had to ask. “Is Hannah okay?”

  “I think so.” Caleb tapped his fingers on the workbench. “Uh, you guys should probably talk or something.”

  “I don’t think she wants to talk to me.” His heartstrings tightened. “She called me an ass.”

  “She didn’t mean it, bro.”

  “I think she did.”

  “Aw, hell. This is so screwed up.” Caleb’s face was a picture of conflicting emotions. He rubbed his hands over his eyes. “I still can’t believe it. You’re going to be a dad.”

  “Yeah. And you’re going to be an uncle.”

  “Jeez, I am, aren’t I? I’ll have to watch my language and try not to cuss in front of the kid.”

  “Yep. You’ll have to remember to say ‘butt,’ not ‘ass.’”

  “And you’ll have to give up all those video games. No more GTA in front of the kid.”

  “That’s okay.” Derek smiled. “We can play dance games instead.”

  Now why did he say that? His smile faded as he remembered dancing with Hannah and Caleb. That carefree night seemed a million years ago.

  He shook his head in desperation to dislodge his memories. “Hey, you want a beer?”

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  Derek grabbed a couple of beers from the kitchen and returned to the garage. They talked about sport and cars and work. It was the kind of conversation they’d had hundreds of times before, and Derek was glad of it. They still had a ways to go before they were easy with each other again, but at least he hadn’t lost Caleb altogether. An hour later, Caleb got up to go.

  “When are you leaving?” Caleb asked at the front door.

  “Tomorrow.” Derek couldn’t help grimacing. He didn’t want to think about tomorrow. The sick feeling welled up again.

  Caleb nodded. “I’ll talk to you later.” He left with a wave.

  After Caleb had left, Derek shut the garage and returned to the house. The silence indicated Otto was still napping. He moved into the living room and dropped into an armchair, feeling heavy and beaten.

  The past weighed down on him. This living room hadn’t changed much since his mom had dumped him here. Same green wallpaper, same old-fashioned bookcases, same stacks of TV guides and car magazines. He’d never paid much attention to this room, but now he looked around him with new eyes.

  He’d have to tell Otto about the baby, preferably before Derek left, since he didn’t want Otto finding out from others. He wasn’t looking forward to it. How did you have a sensitive conversation with a grouchy grandfather who didn’t like chatting?

  Hannah’s advice about old folks and photo albums came to mind. It made sense, but did Otto even keep photo albums? Derek’s gaze caught on the bottom row of the bookcase where there was one solitary photo album. He got up and pulled it out. Funny how he’d spent years in this house and never noticed it before. Maybe Otto had kept it hidden and only brought it out once Derek had left home.

  He flipped open the album. The photos were old and dusty. A black-and-white picture of a young boy in suspenders. It was Otto, age around five or six. Some photos of people he didn’t know. A young couple on their wedding day—Otto and Shirley, Derek’s grandmother. More people he didn’t know. Then Shirley with a toddler on her lap. That must be Lorne, his father, Derek thought. They shared the same eyes, the same dark hair that wouldn’t lie flat.

  There were more pictures of Lorne showing his progress from child to man. From the photos of football and swimming teams, he seemed a good sportsman. He also seemed popular with women. Derek squinted at the girls in the photos, but none of them were his mom. There wasn’t even a picture of their wedding day, though that was probably because it was a shotgun wedding in Reno and Otto hadn’t been invited.

  He turned the final page and found a single photo of Lorne with a child, a boy of about two or three. Lorne was in the act of throwing the boy up in the air, and they were both laughing at each other, the bond between them unmistakable. Derek and his dad.

  Derek traced his fingers over the photo. His chest filled and filled until he felt like he’d burst apart.

  “That’s you. You and your dad.”

  He whirled around to find Otto standing at the entrance of the living room. Otto didn’t appear to be angry at him for looking through the photo album. The old man moved forward, his walking stick clomping on the carpet.

  “I didn’t hear you wake up,” Derek said, feeling weirdly disconnected from reality.

  Otto eased himself into his usual armchair. “Never thought you’d be interested in those old photos.”

  “I never was, but now…” He shrugged. “What was my dad like?”

  “Your dad?” Otto seemed startled by the question. He tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. “Well, he was a good student and good at sports, and sometimes he was a handful.” Otto sighed and pulled at his fingers. “Wish I could’ve been a better father.”

  Derek sat up. He’d never heard Otto talk about being a father before, and he was dying of curiosity. “Why do you say that?”

  “I was away a lot, and I left the bulk of the raising to poor Shirley. She was a saint. She knew I wasn’t too good at the father stuff.” Otto eyed Derek warily from beneath his bushy brows. “My own father was a brute. Caned me every chance he got.”

  Derek started. “That must’ve been tough.”

  Otto shrugged. “Back then, plenty of fathers caned their boys.” He leaned forward. “But I want you to know I never hit my boy, not once.”

  His grandfather was telling the truth. Otto might be blunt, but he was always honest. Derek nodded, not wanting to say anything, as he hoped Otto would continue.

  “I didn’t want to use the cane.” Otto prodded his walking stick at the carpet. “Sometimes, when I was at my wits’ end with Lorne and the urge was so strong, the only thing to do was to stay away. So that’s what I did. And being in the army didn’t help. I neglected the boy, that’s for sure.”

  For the first time he could ever remember, Derek felt a surge of love for his grandfather. There was a reason why he was so prickly and difficult and closed off. He might have neglected his son, but that was the only way he could cope with his own demons.

  “But Lorne didn’t neglect you,” Otto continued. “He was proud of you.”

  “Yeah?” Derek’s nerves tingled. “I can’t remember him, and Mom never wanted to talk about him.”

  “Guess it was hard for her, having a kid and losing a husband so young.”

  “So my dad was a good father?” He didn’t know why, but it seemed so important to get to this truth.

  Otto leaned back. He gazed off into the distance as if he could see into the past. “He was a good father. He loved you. He wanted the best for you.”

  Derek gazed down at the photo of himself and his dad. Suddenly he had to cover his face with his hands. It was too much, this heart-to-heart with his granddad following on the heels of Hannah’s rejection. His shoulders heaved for a while until he regained control. He rubbed his eyes to erase all trace of moisture before he looked up at Otto.

  “Thanks for telling me about my dad. I needed to know that.”

  Otto’s ancient eyes narrowed on him. “I’ve never seen you this upset before. Is there something I should know?”

&nbs
p; Derek hesitated a few seconds before he blurted out, “I’m going to be a dad but”—he paused painfully—“I’m not getting married or anything.”

  His grandpa blinked at him, not saying anything for a while. “That Willmett girl, is it?”

  Derek nodded.

  “Is it you who doesn’t want to marry, or her?”

  “She doesn’t.”

  His grandpa closed his eyes, and Derek thought the old man was nodding off. Probably didn’t want to hear any more of his sob story. God, he felt like he’d been sobbing inside for weeks. He shut the photo album and got up to return it to the shelf.

  “You should make a copy,” Otto suddenly spoke up.

  “Of what?”

  “Of that photo of you and your dad. To remind you of what you want.”

  “Thanks, I will.” Derek sighed, and his shoulders slumped.

  “I don’t understand you, boy. You’ve always gone after what you want, so why are you giving up now?”

  “Giving up? I don’t understand.”

  “You want that Willmett girl, and you want to raise that baby together. So why are you being such a wimp about it?”

  “I’m no wimp,” he automatically protested.

  “You been sitting here blubbering for God knows how long. If you want her that badly, go out and fight for her.”

  Derek clenched his fists. “I wasn’t blubbering.”

  “You made me apologize to Mrs. Pascoe even though I didn’t want to, and it was the right thing to do. So why can’t you do the hard thing yourself?”

  “It’s not the same thing.”

  “It’s exactly the same thing. You can dish it out, but you can’t take it.”

  Damn, was his grandpa going to insult him all day? But Otto was right. When Caleb had asked Derek point blank if he loved Hannah, he had wimped out because he was so scared of being rejected. But that hadn’t helped because now he was feeling even more rejected. He should have had the balls to tell Hannah exactly how he felt about her and damn the consequences.