Unexpected Family

by Jill Kemerer

  Chapter Twelve

  “I don’t like it there, and I’m not going back.” Macy crossed her arms over her chest and stamped her foot. Her big purple coat swallowed her, but the displeased scrunch of her face still shone through.

  “What didn’t you like about it? Scoot in so I can shut the door.” Tom gently nudged her into Stephanie’s apartment and closed the door behind them.

  “It’s stinky.”

  He unzipped her coat, helped her out of it and hung it up in the closet.

  “Is it stinky like it smells or something else?” He collapsed onto the couch and patted his lap for her to sit on it. She lifted her chin high, arms locked against her chest, and didn’t move.

  “Why can’t we stay here?” she asked. “You don’t need to swim.”

  “I do need to swim. Remember? I’m going to be in a big race this summer. You don’t want me to stop in the middle of the lake, do you?” He waved his arms, pretending to flounder.

  She slunk to him and sat on his lap, lifting her hand to brush back the hair at his temple. “You already can swim ’cross the whole lake.”

  “No, I can’t.” He grinned. “That’s why I have to swim every day.”

  “But I don’t want you to. I don’t like it there. Can’t I swim with you?”

  He pressed his forehead to hers. “I wish you could, sweetheart, but not when I’m doing laps. It’s only an hour. We still have lots of time together.”

  Her lips drooped in a pitiful frown. “I don’t want you to swim. I want to stay here. With Mommy.”

  Tom sucked in a breath as his heart sliced open. This was the first time Macy had played the Mommy card. She doesn’t mean it. She’s just being a normal kid. Trying to play on my emotions.

  “You can’t stay here with your mom,” he said gently. “You know she’s in class.”

  “Then I’m gonna run away. I’m taking Fluffy Bunny with me. And you’ll be sad and stop swimming, and Mommy won’t go to class no more.”

  Ah, the logic of a child. He caressed her hair. She swatted at his hand.

  “Where are you going to go?” He kept his tone nonchalant.

  Her nose tipped up. “Florida. My grandpa will want to see me.”

  “Florida is hundreds of miles away.” He rubbed his chin, making a show of thinking hard. The little scamp was playing hardball. “How are you going to get there?”

  “I’m gonna ride a pony. A white pony with pink ribbons in its hair and tail, just like I saw at the fair with Mommy this summer.”

  “Where are you going to get this pony?” Resting his chin against his knuckle, he narrowed his eyes.

  “Sammie. She has ponies at her house.” She frowned. “I think she does. I don’t ’member.”

  “But if you leave, I’ll miss you.”

  “Then you have to stop swimming.” Her face, so serious, almost cracked him up.

  “I’m not going to do that.” Part of him wanted to give in to her demands. He hated leaving her for even an hour.

  “Then I’m getting on that pony.”

  His patience wore thin. It was one thing to indulge her in a typical childhood fantasy and another to listen to escalating blackmail. God, a little help here?

  “Macy, is there something you want more than anything?”

  Her eyes sparkled, and she straightened, clasping her hands to her chest. “I want to be a ballerina!”

  A ballerina? That could work. “You know ballerinas don’t just wake up one day and can dance, right?”

  She nodded, wiggling on his lap to see him better. “They go to dance school. Tatum has a lee-tard and a pink tutu. I wish I did.” Her drawn-out sigh gave him an idea.

  “Well, the race I’m in this summer is kind of like ballet. I have to train for it and get my body ready or I won’t be able to finish.”

  “How’s that like dancing?”

  “Ballerinas have to take classes every week and stretch at home. Are you sure you want to be a dancer?”

  “Yes!” Her eyes couldn’t get any rounder or more twinkly.

  “I’ll tell you what.” He touched the tip of her nose with his finger. “I’ll find ballet lessons for you if you’ll go to the Y with me so I can swim.”

  “Can’t I go to ballet while you swim?”

  Even better. “If I can find dance lessons on Tuesdays or Thursdays, then yes, I’ll work it out. But you still might have to go to the kids’ room sometimes while I swim.”

  “Okay, Daddy. What about the tutu?”

  “And I’ll find you a tutu. Deal?”

  “I guess.”

  * * *

  Stephanie unlocked the apartment at nine-thirty. These night classes exhausted her. Tom sat on the couch, flipping through channels.

  “Hey, tough day, huh?” He rose and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Aunt Sally loaded me up with takeout for us all. There’s fried chicken and mashed potatoes in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

  “Really? You’ll have to thank her for me next time you see her.” She dropped her book bag and purse on the table, shimmied out of her coat and stretched her tired neck to the side. “How was Macy?” He had the look of a man who was hiding something.

  “I took her to the Y tonight. She wasn’t real happy about the Tot Spot program.”

  She pressed her hand to her temple. Tot Spot program? What was he talking about? Her body ached with fatigue.

  He lifted one shoulder. “I’ve got to start swimming every day, so something had to give.”

  And Macy was what had to give? She sealed her mouth shut. She was in no condition to have this conversation. Her throat had felt raw throughout class, and all she could think about was falling into her bed.

  “What? You look mad.” His eyes darkened, and he stood erect, his body filling the small space. “You know this race is important to me.”

  “I know.” She dropped into the chair, her arms dangling over the sides. Hot tea, her favorite yoga pants and her softest blanket. She was desperate for all three. “But why do you have to swim on your days with her? Can’t you fit it in some other time?”

  He balled his hands by his sides. She sat a little straighter. Her question was perfectly reasonable, but for some reason, he wasn’t reacting well.

  “No, I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” Had someone rubbed her throat with sandpaper?

  “I run every morning while the stars are still out. Then I haul myself to work all day. Get home, change into my sweats and hop on the stationary bike. Throw dinner together. I somehow have to fit swimming in, too. Look around.” He spread his arms wide and twisted to the side. “It’s winter, and the nearest pool is thirty minutes away from my house.”

  She brought her hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry. It’s just...I already hate Macy has to be in day care all day. For her to have to basically spend another hour in day care while I’m at school?” She dropped her hand. “Why didn’t I finish my degree all those years ago? I was such a dummy. And Macy is the loser.”

  “You’re not a dummy, and Macy is okay. I don’t like her in day care, either, but that doesn’t mean you should quit school. I’m not giving up on my goals. It won’t hurt her to see us working hard for things we want.”

  “She won’t see it that way.” Exhaustion weighed heavily on her eyes. Bed. Sleep. Right here. Right now.

  He tapped his hand against his leg. “I think she will. She and I made an agreement.”

  Agreement? Guaranteed to make her life harder, whatever it was.

  “She wants to be a ballerina—”

  “Ugh. Not that again. I can’t afford—”

  “Hear me out.” He thrust his palm out and gave her the smile. The devastating one capable of churning her insides to jelly. The smile
that reminded her just how handsome he was.

  And he was.

  The muscles straining against his T-shirt didn’t lie. His rumpled hair practically begged a woman to run her fingers through it—to tame it. To tame him.

  “Macy and I made a deal. I’ll find her ballet classes, and she’ll hang out with the other kids at the Y while I swim. I’m going to try to find classes on Tuesday or Thursday. That way we’ll both be happy.”

  Stephanie sighed, a dull ache spreading through her head. “I can’t afford it.”

  “I’m paying for it. Along with the tutu and tights and whatever she needs.”

  “What if the class is on Monday?”

  “I’ll drive her to and from. Leave it all to me.”

  Leave it all to him? Yes. Nothing sounded better at the moment.

  She looked up. He stood next to her. When had he gotten so close? And why did his presence send a prickly sensation over her arms?

  “Are you feeling all right?” He cocked his head to the side and studied her.

  She waved her hand. “Just tired. I’ll be fine.”

  “Sure I can’t get you anything before I leave? Would only take me a minute to heat the chicken for you.”

  “No. Thanks, though.”

  He swiped his coat out of the closet. “Oh, I’d better warn you. Macy claimed she was running away to Florida before we talked about ballet.”

  Stephanie shifted in the chair to face him. “Let me guess. She’s going to Florida on a white pony with pink ribbons.” She chuckled at his stunned expression. A grin spread across his face.

  “Guess she’s had some practice, huh?”

  She nodded. “She’s an old pro. Wait until you hear her escape plan via hot-air balloon. That one’s a doozy.”

  He laughed. “Thanks for the warning. I...I worried she might try to—”

  “Run away?” She shook her head. “Don’t worry. She threatens to leave when she doesn’t get her way, but it’s more of a coping mechanism than anything.”

  He turned the front door handle.

  “Tom?” she said. He paused, his gaze intense. “Can I ask you something? Who do you report to at the dealership?”

  He let out a half snort, half laugh. “No one. I’m the boss.”

  “Exactly.” She circled her finger on her temple. “I’ll support you if you decide to find ballet lessons, but you are your own boss. Doesn’t that mean you can set your hours? Leaving Macy at the Y’s day care isn’t your only option.”

  He opened his mouth but didn’t say anything. Then he nodded. “Get some rest, will you? You’re working too hard.” And he closed the door behind him.

  Silly his words could be the exact medicine she needed, but they were. She changed into her favorite yoga pants, grabbed her softest blanket, brewed a cup of tea and spread her homework on the coffee table. She’d rest when the semester was over.

  * * *

  “Do we really get to see my room tonight, Daddy?” Macy yelled from the backseat. The basement remodel had taken longer than expected, but here it was, the second week of February, and Tom could finally move into the house. He glanced at Stephanie in the passenger seat. Her smile took his breath away.

  “We sure do, princess.” He winked at Stephanie. “Hope you like your new room. It’s your favorite color, muddy brown.”

  “I don’t like brown! I like pink.”

  “Uh-oh. I told the painters you loved brown. And orange—bright hunter’s orange.”

  “No, no, no! I don’t like yucky orange.” Her voice rose an octave. “I don’t want a brown room.”

  Stephanie twisted to face Macy. “Don’t be rude. You should be thankful to have your own room.”

  “Wait. Did I say brown? I got it all wrong.” He turned into the driveway. After opening Macy’s door, he unbuckled and picked her up, careful not to slip on the ice. “I’m pretty sure there’s a pink room upstairs for you.”

  “Really?” She kissed his nose. “It’s pink?”

  He nodded and carried her to the front door. Stephanie followed him.

  “Wow, Tom, this is some place.” Her mouth gaped open.

  “You think so?” Warmth spread through his stomach up to his chest. His first house.

  “Uh, yeah, I think so.” She craned her neck to take it all in. “It’s beautiful. All brick. And look at all the windows. Very grand.”

  “Thanks.” He let Macy slide out of his arms, ready to bolt. “Take your shoes off first, kiddo.”

  She kicked off her boots and flew up the stairs.

  Stephanie bent to unzip her own boots. “She’s not excited at all, as you can see. Thanks for inviting me to the big reveal.”

  “You don’t mind, do you?” He set his shoes next to the door.

  “Of course not. My favorite show is House Hunters. I can’t wait to own my own house someday.” Her face lit up, and his gut clenched. Beautiful. Confident. Stephanie.

  Everything within him wanted to offer this house to her. Which made no sense.

  He strode forward. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

  He gave her the tour, and they ended up in the empty living room while Macy twirled around the rooms upstairs. The whole place smelled like paint and hardwood. New.

  Her expression dimmed. “Macy will love it here.”

  What was he missing? Why the hushed words? “Why do you sound sad?”

  “I’m not sad.” A small smile played on her lips and she shook her head, moving toward the windows. “Well, maybe a little.”

  “Nothing’s going to change.” He tried to reassure her, not knowing how. “Macy will have her own room and a yard to play in now. No more dodging stationary bikes, treadmills and my brother. Sam is moving out of Dad’s place into my old room. It’s working out for all of us.”

  “I know.” She sounded even sadder than before. What was going on?

  He touched her shoulder. “Steph?”

  She turned, tears glistening in her eyes. He wanted to kick himself for bringing her here and making her feel bad.

  She averted her gaze, discreetly patting her eyes.

  One thing he knew? He was the cause of her tears. Great.

  “I...thought... That is, I’m...” He raked his hand through his hair. What was he trying to say? “This house was a big step for me. I finally did something for myself. On my own. Not like my job, where I fell into it. Or fatherhood, which I fell into, too. This—” he slowly spun, looking at the ceiling before fixing his gaze on her “—is something I should have done a long time ago.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  He swallowed. Good question. He must have chased her tears away, because she stared, curious, open, without a teardrop in sight.

  “I think I’ve been waiting for something.”

  “What?”

  He stepped closer to her. Felt her warmth. “I don’t know. I was waiting for my life to change. Waiting for it to get fixed.”

  “Well, it certainly changed.” She licked her lips. “I saw to that.”

  Placing his hands on her upper arms, he held her gaze. “Not what I meant. When I found out about Macy, it snapped me out of my daze. Made me realize I don’t have to wait. Life is now. It’s happening, and I want to live it. You know?”

  She nodded. “I do know.”

  An invisible thread connected them. No woman had ever gotten him the way Stephanie did. None had ever listened and seemed to comprehend his chopped-up thoughts, either. He peeked at her lips. Shouldn’t have.

  “I’m happy for you,” she whispered. “But I’m jealous, too. I want to live in a house with Macy. With a big backyard. And rooms to decorate. I’m sorry—I shouldn’t be saying anything, but I want to be honest with you. No more keeping things to myself. I kept too
much inside when we were married.”

  “I do know.” His voice grew husky. “I kept things to myself, too. If you can be honest with me, I’ll do my best to be honest with you.”

  Her eyelashes fluttered as if she didn’t know what to make of that.

  He didn’t, either. All he knew was the more time he spent with Stephanie, the more time he wanted to spend with her. The past was past. This was now. And now he wanted to kiss her.

  “When does my bed come, Daddy?” Macy skipped down the stairs and into the living room.

  Tom gave Stephanie’s lips one last pining glance. “Next week, princess.”

  “Look, Daddy.” She threw her arms in the air and spun in a circle. “I can dance in here. Miss Lotty taught me this. See? Did you see?”

  “I saw. Very nice.” He pretended to clap. He’d found a young ballet class that met on Tuesday nights, and so far, Macy loved it. Stephanie’s comment about him being the boss had sunk in. Although not his first choice, he’d started leaving work an hour earlier each day to get his swim time in. So far, Sheffield Auto hadn’t collapsed without his constant presence.

  And instead of swimming during Macy’s ballet class, he sat with the other parents and watched her from behind a plexiglass window. From his viewpoint, Macy was the most talented kid in the bunch.

  “I’m going to leap in my room.” Macy flashed a grin and raced back upstairs.

  Little firecracker. He turned back to Stephanie. “What are you doing for Valentine’s Day?” He hadn’t planned it, but there the question was.

  “I have plans.” Her words flew out, and she wrung her hands.

  “Oh.” Why had he said anything? Now she probably thought he... What? That he wanted to ask her out on a date? Well, she’d be right. Did she have a date already? Entirely possible. He clenched his jaw. “I see.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “It’s not a date, if that’s what you’re thinking. Bea and I are taking Macy to a movie.”

  The tension drained from him. “Oh? I shouldn’t have asked. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.” He reached over and loosely held her fingers in his. “It’s just...this feels familiar.”

  She snatched her hand away. “I know. It does for me, too.”