by Jill Kemerer
“It’s probably a good idea to get a smaller table so a big family will have someplace to sit.”
Macy scanned the empty tables. “I see one. Over there.” She tore free from Stephanie’s grasp and ran toward the windows.
“Macy, wait.” Stephanie barely heard her own voice over the din. She wove through families and caught up as Macy slid into a booth.
“See? This fits us.” Macy spread her arms wide and grinned.
“Yes, it does, but don’t run off like that again. See how many kids are here? I don’t want to lose you, so stay close.”
Tom set the tray on the table and handed them each a soda. “What do you say, Macy? Should we wait for the pizza or play some games first?”
“Games!”
“Atta girl.” He turned to Stephanie. “Want to come?”
“No.” She shook her head. “You two go on. I’ll wait here for the pizza.”
She stood to let Macy out of the booth and bit her lip at the picture they presented—Tom, tall and strong, holding Macy’s tiny hand as she skipped down the aisle, every now and then staring up at him in adoration. It hadn’t taken long for her little girl to become infatuated.
Oh, Macy. Just like your mama.
She leaned back, allowed herself a few moments of peace. Well, as peaceful as a Chuck E. Cheese’s on a Friday night in late October could be. A young girl with two blond braids ran by. Dance music from the giant television screen filled in any gaps. A piercing temper tantrum added to the mayhem, but for the first time in months, Stephanie relaxed. Really relaxed. Didn’t think. Just sat there. Content.
To not have to worry about Macy right now—to not have to make sure she was entertained—to simply rest and breathe? What a gift.
Stephanie had gone out to lunch with Bea again today. Wise and kind, Bea helped Stephanie more than she knew. But their conversation had brought questions up, too. Questions Stephanie wasn’t prepared to answer.
Like did she trust Tom with Macy? How would she feel when the two of them went off alone? Was she ready to give up holidays and weekends with her daughter when he filed for custody? And how could she be sure he wasn’t going to punish her for lying to him? Stephanie craned her neck to locate them. She rose slightly, not seeing much beyond the Skee-Ball machines and the network of play tubes reaching to the ceiling. Chuck E. Cheese himself strutted by, shaking hands with every kid who would let him.
Where were they?
No need to be nervous. Tom had Macy. They were probably around the corner where more games lurked. Nothing to worry about.
A waiter chose that moment to set the pizza and paper plates on the table. She lowered back into her seat but continued scanning the floor, trying to see either Macy or Tom. Or both.
“Can I get you anything else, miss?” the waiter asked.
“No, thanks.” The mozzarella cheese and Italian spices made her stomach growl, but she pressed her hand against her abdomen and turned in her seat, desperate to spot Macy.
“Ah, dinner has arrived.” Tom’s masculine voice startled her, and she jerked back, her palm on her chest.
“Let me in, Mama.” Macy poked her. Stephanie stepped out to let her settle into the corner. Tom served them each a slice, and Macy wasted no time tearing into it. Cheese stretched from her mouth to the pizza. “I won tickets!”
“You did?” Stephanie handed her a napkin. “How many?”
She shrugged, concentrating on chewing. Then she sipped her drink. “Lots.”
Tom held up several folded rows of gray tickets. “After we eat, we can win more.” He shook the plastic cup holding the tokens. “Then you can pick out your prizes.”
“This is the best place ever!” She dropped her pizza and clapped her hands, bouncing in her seat.
“Yes, yes,” Stephanie said. “It’s a wonderland. But first you have to eat.”
Macy nodded, already taking another bite. Her pleasure brought Stephanie mixed feelings. She wanted Macy to be excited, but she didn’t want her getting used to this kind of extravagance. On a tight budget, Stephanie couldn’t afford pizzas out and games and all the fun Tom promised.
“Is something wrong?” Tom slid two slices of pizza onto his plate.
She couldn’t compete with this. Not now, at least. Maybe in a few years when she had a better-paying job. “No, nothing’s wrong. It’s been a grueling week.” She picked at her pizza. “Tell me more about this IRONMAN thing.”
He lifted his finger until he finished chewing. “It’s my first competition. August. Right now I’m getting in shape. By the end of January, I’ll begin my serious workouts.”
“What exactly is involved?”
Macy paid no attention to them as she ate and watched the other kids.
“I’m building up how many miles I run and bike. I joined the Y here, too, since Lake Endwell doesn’t have any indoor pools. The race starts with a 2.4-mile swim in open water. Then I hop on a bike for 112 miles. Finally, I run 26.2 miles. My goal is to finish under twelve hours.”
“Why twelve hours?”
“The average time is twelve and a half—I’m going to beat that.”
“Impressive.” She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “I’m sure it isn’t easy with your work schedule.”
A pang of hurt crossed his face, but he nodded. “It isn’t, but it’s important to me.”
She dropped her gaze to the table and crumpled a napkin. “I know how exhausting work is, how much it takes out of you. And now that I’m in school full-time, too, well, I understand sacrificing to go after a dream.”
His eyes reminded her of Lake Endwell on a clear summer day. Enticing.
“So you want to be an accountant?”
“I know, I know, hard to believe, right?” She let out an embarrassed laugh. Her grades had never been great, but now she earned more As than Bs, and she was proud of them.
“Not so hard to believe.” He stretched his arm across the back of the booth. “Why accounting?”
“Good pay, flexible hours.”
He didn’t respond, but a thoughtful expression softened his features. He finished eating his slice, and Stephanie took another bite of hers, but her appetite hadn’t been good all week. Too many changes. Too many things to think about. The biggest one sat across from her.
He still mesmerized her.
She could not think that way. Not again. Never again.
“I’m ready to win more tickets.” Macy wiped her hands over her empty plate and grinned. “Are you coming, Mommy?”
“I’m going to sit here and rest while you and Tom win them, okay?”
“Okay.” She pouted a second, but when Stephanie let her out of the booth, she perked right up. “Come on—let’s go to the light-up game!”
“Your wish is my command, Princess Macy.”
Stephanie groaned. First Chuck E. Cheese’s. Now a princess? Macy would be impossible to live with after tonight.
* * *
Later that night, Tom followed Stephanie into her apartment, inhaling the cinnamon scent he’d come to enjoy. Macy had fallen asleep in his truck, so he carried her inside and laid her on her bed, which was covered with a pink-and-purple-polka-dotted comforter. An old chest of drawers with chipped white paint stood opposite. Pink curtains hung from the windows, and stuffed animals were stashed in an inexpensive laundry basket. Girlie. He smiled.
He kissed Macy’s forehead, slipped her small shoes off her feet and covered her with the comforter, then joined Stephanie in the living room.
“Will she be okay? Does she need pajamas or anything?” He lowered himself onto the couch, but his leg refused to stay still. Even when he pushed it down with his hand, his knee bounced. What he had to say stuck in his throat.
“I don’t want to wake her. She’l
l be fine.” She flopped in the rocking chair, her slim frame slouching as she ran a finger across her forehead. “Thanks for tonight.”
“She had a good time,” he said, trying not to gape at how beautiful she looked. “I didn’t realize it would take fifteen minutes for her to pick out her prizes, though.”
Stephanie laughed. “She’s never been there. I don’t buy her many toys, so when she gets them, it’s a big deal.”
As good an opening as he was going to get. “It’s time to change that.”
“She’ll live without a mountain of toys.”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m her dad. I want to provide for her. When are we going to tell her the truth? Make this official?”
Her smile slid off her face as she straightened, blinked twice. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m not doing anything,” he said quickly. “We agreed to let Macy get used to me before telling her. Well, I think she’s about ready.”
“That’s it?” She bit her lower lip. “You just want to tell her?”
“Well, no. Of course not.” He rose, massaging the back of his neck. “I want more. You know I want to be her father. I am her father.”
The startled look on her face didn’t reassure him.
“Are you asking for custody?” she asked quietly.
He began to pace. “Not full custody if that’s what you mean. But, yeah, I want to share her, and I don’t want a visit now and then when it’s convenient for you. I want joint custody.”
“Joint custody. I see.”
“I’m not being unreasonable. I’ll pay child support—in fact, I want to pay it.” He held out a hand, trying not to offend her. “But I am pursuing this. I’ve already talked to my lawyer. Is my name on the birth certificate?”
Her face paled. “Yes.”
“Good, it will simplify things. I’ll sign an acknowledgment of paternity. You and I can work out a schedule for me to have Macy.” He roamed back and forth between the couch and television. All the problems and details he’d dug up swam around, fighting for attention. “I think we’ll have to talk to a friend of the court, get a judge’s signature, and we should be all set.”
“Signatures. Friend of the...” She shook her head. “Tom?”
“Hmm?”
“I’ve got to know—please don’t take this the wrong way—will you be there for her, really be there for her?”
He slowly spun and stared at her.
She wrung her hands. “It’s not that I don’t want you to share custody—you just found out and you’re excited, I get it—but three years from now will you still want...” She spread her hands out and lifted her shoulders.
“Yes, Stephanie,” he ground out. “I will still want my daughter. Do you have any idea what it’s been like for me to know I’ve had a little girl all this time but had no clue she existed? You sit there and have the nerve to ask me if I’ll be there for her, like she’s a toy I’ll outgrow.” He averted his gaze. “I don’t think you know me at all. But maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. We were married, we lived together and you didn’t know me then, either.”
“I knew you,” she murmured. “I know you. And this is not about you or me or our marriage. It’s about Macy. I’m the one who’s taken care of her 24/7 since the second she was born.”
“And why is that, Stephanie?” A burning sensation rose in his chest. Was she hinting he was to blame? A hard coating spread over his heart.
“We’ve been through this.” She stood, throwing her hands up. “Can you honestly say you wouldn’t have demanded we stay together for her sake? You would have resented me. Resented her. I’m fierce for her, Tom. I’ll do anything to protect her.”
He bit back his reply and considered her words. Would he have resented a child back then? Demanded they stay together? He wouldn’t have served the divorce papers. Stephanie had him there. But as far as the other...
She moved next to him and touched his forearm. He flinched.
“Maybe I want to protect her, too.” He held himself rigid. “Maybe I don’t like the thought of her living in a run-down apartment in a not-so-safe neighborhood. Maybe I’m not crazy about the fact she spends all day in a day care center while you work. Maybe I’d like for her to know my family—the aunts and uncles who will adore her. It’s not fair to them or to her to miss out on each other.”
She swallowed. “What are you suggesting? You are going to ask for full custody, aren’t you?”
“Is that what this is about?” Some of the fight left him. “You’re afraid I’m going to take her away from you? I’d never do that, Stephanie. I’m not the monster you think I am.”
“I’ve never thought you were a monster, Tom.” She angled away from him. “If anyone was a monster, it was me. I...I wish I had done things differently.”
His fury dissipated as quickly as it had come on. Her defeated stance, the regret in her eyes, made him want to touch her, to tell her it was all right. But he didn’t.
“I don’t know what I’d do without her.” Conviction and fear colored her words. “I’ve made too many mistakes. How many times have I gone back in my mind and been the wife you needed?”
Understanding flashed then—she didn’t blame him for their failed marriage. She blamed herself.
Forgive her, Tom.
What? Where had that thought come from? He balled his fists down by his sides.
Forgive her.
Clenching his jaw, he gave his head a slight shake. He couldn’t. Not yet.
You can.
His fists uncurled. Jaw loosened. And he studied the wounded woman standing so close to him. Close enough to run his hand down her hair, comfort her if he chose to.
He wanted to.
Gently, he touched her hair. So silky.
“We both made mistakes. I just want to spend time with her, too.”
She inhaled sharply, her expression questioning before she broke into a smile. “I’m glad. I’m glad you want to spend time with her.”
“What gave you the idea I wouldn’t?” Her floral perfume soothed him as much as her words did.
She averted her eyes. “I’m a product of divorce, Tom. I’ve been through it.”
“But you spent all kinds of time with your dad.”
“Yeah. I did. And where was my mom?”
He thought back. Stephanie’s mom hadn’t been in the picture except for a brief appearance at their wedding. She rarely talked about her. “You lived with your mom through high school.”
“No, I didn’t.” She retreated to the chair. “I lived with her and my stepfather of the month until I turned twelve. Then I moved in with Dad.”
“What happened?” He resumed his position on the couch. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees, his clasped hands dangling between.
“Husband number three. He lived in Chicago, and Mom planned on moving there. We all decided it would be best if I didn’t have to change schools, so I went with Dad.”
“But you still talked to her? Saw her?” He fit the puzzle together as best he could, but he was missing a dozen pieces.
“Sure. Now and then. Honestly, she and I weren’t very close when we lived together. She cycled through being depressed, dating, in the honeymoon phase or powering through a divorce. I couldn’t keep up. But she loved me in her own way.”
Explained a lot. He cracked his knuckles, wanting to protect her from the pain. Her delicate face radiated youthful vitality, but it was shadowed by the hard edges of experience.
She flicked her wrist. “Mom can be fun and generous and loving—as loving as anyone I know. I wanted too much from her.”
“Too much? She’s your mother. She owed you that.”
Stephanie shook her head. “No. Nobody owes me anything. Anyway, Macy is ble
ssed to have you, and you have every right to see her. We’ll work out an arrangement.”
“Thank you.” The glimpse of her childhood pain made his stomach tighten. Her worries about Macy made more sense. He cleared his throat. “I was thinking we could figure out a schedule in the next couple of weeks, get the legal things rolling and tell Macy around Thanksgiving.”
“Thanksgiving?”
“My family is dying to meet her.” He couldn’t wait to introduce her to them all. “Is that a problem?”
“No, no. But my dad is coming for Thanksgiving.”
“So? Bring him.”
“What? I’m confused.” She brushed fuzz off the sleeve of her sweater. “You want me there, too?”
“Well, yeah. Why not? You know everyone. It would be pretty intimidating for Macy to meet all the Sheffields if you’re not there. But we have to tell her who I am first. I want to make it special.”
“This is all happening so fast.” She crossed the room and set her fingers on the edge of the table.
“Not for me.” He followed her, lured by her honesty. “It’s not happening fast enough. I’ve got lost time to make up for.”
“I know. We’ll work out an agreement between now and then.” She wrapped her arms around her body. “I’m a little nervous.”
“Did you think I’d pretend to be an old friend forever?”
“No. It’s just...well, you’ve seen the fun parts of being a parent. It’s not all princesses, stuffed animals and pizzas. It’s disciplining and paying attention when you have other things to do.”
“I get that, Steph. I’m not an idiot.” He stepped away from her at the tension her words produced.
“I didn’t mean that the way it came out. You have integrity—always have. I envied you your morals, you know, when we were married. I wanted your attention... I’m sorry for what I put you through.” She lifted her chin, her eyes shimmering. “It’ll be good for Macy to have a father. To have you as a dad.”
“Hey,” he said, his throat tight. “I was at fault, too. I...” Dare he say this to her? Admit it? Out loud? “I wasn’t a good husband. I didn’t pay attention to you. Assumed your world should revolve around me. I took you for granted, and I’m sorry. We were both too young.”
