Unexpected Family

by Jill Kemerer

  “Then what’s the problem?” He scanned her face, so full of confusion.

  “We had this once, Tom. It didn’t work. I don’t want familiar. The last thing I want is what we had.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sweat dripped down the side of Tom’s face as he pedaled faster, faster. The last thing I want is what we had replayed over and over in his head. He tried to focus on the television. The basketball game usually engrossed him but not now. Adjusting the incline, he steadied his pace.

  Why had he revealed so much to Stephanie tonight? Did she have some sort of power that made him forget why he shouldn’t be with her? Tempted him to look fate in the eye and spit at it, like a moron who kept swatting at a swarm of bees.

  The slender body, toned legs? Part of it. Maybe her kind eyes. No, it was the smile. The elusive turn of the lips, the one suggesting a secret only he would know—that’s what got him every time.

  His legs tightened with each rotation. He’d better stretch his muscles after this session or he’d be fumbling around in pain the next three days. Flexibility was vital for him to continue training. Taking five minutes to loosen his legs after a cardio or strength session should be automatic, but he dreaded the twinges assuring him he did it correctly.

  Flexibility, in general, didn’t come naturally to him.

  He’d rather push through, punish his body through a tough workout than sit still and count to eight while contorting his arms and legs.

  He continued cycling, feeling the burn in his shins, calves and thighs.

  What was so wrong with what they had, anyhow?

  Coming home to someone who loved you. Sitting on the couch and watching a movie. Going out to dinner and laughing at each other’s day. Were those things so bad?

  The bike handles slipped under his sweaty hands. He grabbed the towel around his neck and wiped them again.

  Memories and reality collided, and he tried to shut them out, to avoid the truth, but snippets of his married life with Stephanie kept coming back.

  And he knew.

  He knew why she didn’t want it.

  They never sat on the couch and watched a movie. They went out to dinner, but neither of them laughed. They’d eat in silence. Each caught up in their own little worlds.

  If what they used to have was Stephanie’s version of familiar, he agreed with her. It was the last thing he wanted, too.

  * * *

  “When are you and Macy moving down here?” Stephanie’s dad asked. “I need to start making plans.”

  Stephanie’s pulse tippy-tapped way too fast. Sitting on her couch after touring Tom’s house, she held the phone but had no idea how to respond to her dad’s question. Macy had crashed in bed the second they got home. The excitement of seeing her new bedroom had worn her out. Had worn Stephanie out, too. How could she deal with Dad when she’d already verged on a breakdown earlier in Tom’s new living room?

  She still squirmed about the whole Valentine’s thing. Not to mention hurting him with her speech about not wanting what they had again.

  He’d scared her. Unintentionally, of course, but when he’d closed the distance between them and gazed into her eyes with the look that whispered, You, you’re what I want, only you, she’d been positive he was going to kiss her.

  If he kissed her, she’d be lost.

  No kissing. Not him. Too much to lose—her career goals, her desire to make decisions for herself and Macy and, most of all, her identity. Kissing him would make her want to take her whole life, throw it on the gorgeous granite counter of his brand-new kitchen and say, “Take me. I’m yours.”

  “Stephanie?” Dad’s voice ripped her from her thoughts. “Are you there?”

  “I’m here, Dad.”

  “How about July? Can you get everything packed by then? I’ll arrange for the moving truck.”

  “I don’t know.” She’d skirted the issue with her dad for weeks. How could she tell him she was seriously considering staying in Michigan? It would break his heart. “I haven’t even been accepted yet. Planning a moving date might be premature.”

  “Premature? Hardly.” He made a scoffing noise. “You’ll be accepted. I’ll get the rooms set up for you and Macy. You know how she loves the beach. We’ll all be together again.”

  “She does love the beach.” Stephanie closed her eyes, picturing endless white sand. Ocean waves. Dad’s happy face. “You know I applied for grad school here, too, Dad.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “Tom changes things.” She crossed to the patio door. A half-moon peeked out of the clouds. Remarkably clear for such a cold night.

  “You’re not thinking of getting back together with him?”

  “No.” She shook her head even though Dad couldn’t see her. “Not happening.”

  “Then why are you throwing your whole life away to stay there?”

  Leave it to Dad to put her decisions in such an attractive light. “I’m not throwing my life away. He’s Macy’s father. You’re the one who told me all these years what a mistake I was making for not telling him, how Tom deserved to know about his child. Well, you were right. And I was wrong, and I’m trying to make it better.”

  “There’s better and there’s smart,” he said. “You think it has to be either-or, but...”

  “But what?”

  “But if you stay there...well, he made you miserable once. What makes you think this time would be different?”

  “There isn’t going to be a this time. I applied to grad school here for Macy’s sake. And for Tom’s.”

  “Hey, that sounds all nice and good, Stephanie, but don’t fool yourself. You haven’t gotten close to anyone since you left him. What are you going to do when he starts dating someone else? Gets remarried? Do you still want to toss out our plans?”

  “He’s not dating anyone.”

  “Oh, so that’s what you’re banking on.”

  “No!” Acid rose in her throat. Dad and Bea should get together and take notes on how to put her worst fears front and center. They both seemed to be experts at it. “It’s not my business what Tom does with his personal life. I made a huge mistake by not telling him about Macy. I’m not going to make another one by keeping them apart.”

  “Sounds like you made up your mind.”

  “No, I haven’t.” Why was this so hard? She pressed her fist against the center of her forehead. “I’ve been looking forward to moving to Florida ever since you bought the condo. I want to move down there. But I’m not saying yes or no right now. This is a big decision and it doesn’t only impact me. It affects Macy and Tom. I can’t make it lightly.”

  “I know it is,” he said. “You’ve got to do what’s best for you. And Florida is what’s best. It’s all you’ve talked about the last year.”

  “I know, I know.” She plopped on the couch and let her neck roll back against the cushion. Actually it was all Dad talked about, and it seemed like a good plan for her at the time, but... “If I get an acceptance letter from Miami, I’ll plan on visiting around Easter. I’ll need to schedule an admissions interview anyway.”

  “You wouldn’t be the first person to live in one state while your kid’s father lives in another. You can still share custody and live apart.”

  Yeah, she could. But was that fair to Tom? To Macy?

  And did she still want to?

  * * *

  “An anti–Valentine’s Day party? You’re a genius.” Sam leaned in for a half embrace. “The perfect excuse to get Roxanne and Paulette off my back. Those two have more nieces, granddaughters and ‘nice girls from church’ than any woman on earth. Why am I saddled with two matchmakers doing administration and finances? I should hire a couple of guys.”

  Tom laughed. “And lose two of the hardest-working employees Sheffield Auto
has? You’re smart. You can handle a little matchmaking if it means keeping them happy.”

  “I can’t handle it. Paulette set up a secret Facebook page with pictures of potential dates for me. And Roxanne tells me every day what a shame it is such a cute boy is single.”

  Tom led the way to the kitchen. “It is a shame such a cute boy is single.” He lunged to the left, anticipating the punch Sam was sure to give him. Sam’s fist flew past him. “Not quick enough for me, little brother.”

  This time Sam’s hand connected with the back of Tom’s head. Wincing, he rubbed it. Bryan was already in the living room. Pizzas lined the island along with a large Greek salad.

  Sam let out a whistle. “How’d you get so much done? Didn’t you just sign the papers?”

  “I’m that good.” Tom grinned. “Nah, the moving company did everything. As you can see, I have a lot to do. I don’t even own pictures to hang on the walls. But you like the new sectional, don’t you?” He drifted to the back of one of the charcoal-colored couches. Big pillows added pops of red, and the humongous grouping of furniture faced a big-screen TV.

  Sam vaulted over the couch and lay on the chaise section, his feet crossed at the ankles. He pointed to the television. “What? Didn’t they have anything bigger?”

  Tom laughed. The screen ate up half the wall. “No, they didn’t or I would have bought it. I like to feel as if I’m right there in the stadium when I’m watching sports.”

  “Any bigger and you’d be in the stadium.”

  Bryan came up and joined them. “I’m moving in here, Tom. I can’t deal with this one.” He jerked his thumb at Sam, who was still resting on the couch. “Besides, I like this bachelor pad more than our old one. You have the perfect setup.”

  Tom grinned, knowing he should be flattered. But bachelor pad? No. Not what he was going for with this house. “I’m grown up now. I’m done with bachelor pads.”

  “What are you talking about?” Sam asked as Bryan’s eyes narrowed. “Do you have a girlfriend tucked away we don’t know about?”

  Bryan gave Tom a sideways glance. “More like an ex-wife,” he mumbled.

  Tom glared him into silence. “You know I don’t. But I’ve got Macy.”

  “And you’re spending a lot of time with her mom, too, aren’t you?” Bryan’s hard stare bore into him.

  “Not really.” He shrugged. Depended on what was considered a lot of time. “We pass each other when I get Macy, but—”

  “You brought her here the other night, didn’t you?” Bryan asked.

  “What, are you spying on me?”

  “This is Lake Endwell, man. There are no secrets. Mrs. Daniels came in yesterday to have her car tuned up and she regaled the reception desk with the approximate time you arrived, who you were with and how long you stayed in ‘the empty house with his pretty ex-wife and that darling little girl.’” The final part of his speech was spoken in a false soprano voice.

  “Mrs. Daniels needs to mind her own business.” Tom stalked back to the kitchen with Bryan on his heels.

  “She lives across the street from you now. That’s not going to happen.”

  Tom had forgotten how nosy neighbors could be. In his old house, they didn’t have anyone nearby to spy on them. Living in a subdivision would take some getting used to.

  “Tell us the truth. Are you getting back together with her?” Bryan blocked the entrance to the kitchen, trapping Tom inside.

  “No.” Tom shoved him out of the way. At least he could say that with honesty.

  “You want to, though, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes. You’re falling for her again.”

  “What are you talking about?” Tom tossed two slices of cheese-and-veggie pizza and a scoop of salad on a plate and sat at the table between the kitchen island and a wall of windows. He took a big bite. If his mouth was busy chewing, he could avoid the rest of Bryan’s questions. His brothers joined him.

  Bryan towered over Tom. “She really trapped you this time, didn’t she? Are you forgetting what you went through when she left you? Because I haven’t. I’m not going to sit here and watch you go through that again. Kid or no kid, you can’t seriously be thinking about dating her.” He waved his hand in front of him. “What does she have over you, man? She hid a daughter from you. And now she’s back, and all is forgiven? What a piece of work.”

  “Stop.” Tom jerked to his feet, the chair almost tipping over. He got right up in Bryan’s face. “You don’t know her.”

  “And you do?” Bryan didn’t back down.

  “Did you ever stop and think maybe I was at fault in our marriage, too? It wasn’t all her, Bryan. It wasn’t. And I’m not excusing her for not telling me about Macy, but I am sick and tired of living like this.” He extended his arm out.

  “Living like what?” Bryan opened his hands. “What’s so wrong with being single?”

  “Everything,” Tom blurted. “I want to see my kid every day. Not just Tuesdays and Thursdays and a weekend now and then. I want to open the door and she’s here. All the time.”

  “It’s called full custody, Tommy. You don’t need a wife to make that happen.”

  Tom’s shoulders slumped as he shook his head. Bryan didn’t get it. Not at all. “Macy needs her mom. I would never separate them. Never.”

  “But it’s okay for her to separate you? Macy needs a dad, too, Tommy. I guarantee Stephanie moves to Florida, and then what are you going to do? She’s moving, and you’re going to be in this big house. Alone.”

  “Stop it.” Sam wedged himself between them and put his hand on Bryan’s shoulder. “Come on—back off.”

  He jerked his arm free. “That’s what getting married gets you, Sam—nothing.”

  Tom met Bryan’s eyes. “This isn’t about me, is it?”

  “What are you talking about?” Bryan turned and marched the few steps to the kitchen. Tom followed him.

  “You’re scared.”

  “What? That’s stupid. I’m not the one playing around with my ex-wife.”

  “No, you’re not. And that’s what scares you. Because if I can do it, who’s to say your ex-wife couldn’t come back in the picture, too, right?”

  “Abby moved to Texas and got remarried. Not going to happen.”

  “Then what are you worried about?” Tom grabbed Bryan’s arm.

  Bryan wrenched free. “I’m not worried about anything! You’re the one who thinks you’re going forward, moving out of our house and buying this minimansion, but you’re moving backward, man. You’re trying to reclaim a life that’s been dead for a long time.”

  The words pierced him, but Tom didn’t flinch. He pulled his shoulders back. Clenched his jaw.

  Sam looked at him, then Bryan, then back again.

  “At least I’m doing something, Bryan. I sat in a funk for five years. Five years. And maybe I am trying to reclaim my life. Maybe it was dead. But why shouldn’t I? I’m tired of sitting around watching ball games while everyone else gets married. They have families and live for something a little bigger than themselves. Did you ever think I want that, too?”

  Bryan’s eyes blazed. He crossed his arms over his chest.

  Tom pointed his finger at him. “I loved Stephanie, but I didn’t treat her right. I wanted a wife, but I didn’t want to do any work. And she was too insecure at the time to call me out on it.”

  “So she went off with another guy.”

  This time he did flinch. “Yeah. Another guy was smart enough to see what I was too blind and dumb to realize. Stephanie is special. She needed someone to be there for her, to care about her.”

  “I can’t believe I’m listening to this,” Bryan shouted, crumpling a napkin and throwing it across the counter. “She cheated on you and you’re defending her? I’m staging an intervention.”

  �
��She never cheated on me.” He ground the words out with deadly conviction.

  “Call it what you want, but when a wife lies about where she’s at and is caught with another guy, I call it cheating.”

  “She crossed a line. An emotional line. She admitted it. Yes, I caught her holding hands, but that’s as far as it went. She never cheated on me.”

  “Hope that keeps you warm at night, Tommy.”

  Tom’s stomach burned at the hostility pouring down. “I would do anything—anything—to go back and handle my marriage differently. But I can’t.”

  “Why would you want to?” Bryan sneered.

  “Because I love her!”

  Bryan tilted his head as if to say, “See?” and Tom let out a shaky breath. Sam didn’t say a word, just watched their interaction through wide eyes.

  Tom slid his foot along the hardwood floor. “I never stopped loving her. If I had the slightest chance of creating a new life with her and Macy, I would, but it’s not going to happen. She doesn’t want me.”

  “She should be so fortunate,” Bryan muttered.

  That did it. He’d opened up more than ever before, and Bryan kept pushing him. What did his brother want? Stephanie tied to a stake out front and lit on fire?

  “What is your problem?” Tom asked.

  “You’re a pushover—that’s my problem.”

  He wanted to punch Bryan—his fists itched to—but he closed his eyes and stepped backward. “Get out.”

  “Glad to.”

  * * *

  Stephanie stood on Tom’s new porch at eight o’clock on Valentine’s Day. Why she’d driven here after telling him she had plans, she couldn’t say. After the movie, Bea suggested Macy sleep at her house, and instead of heading to her apartment, Stephanie had stopped at the video store and zoomed all the way to Lake Endwell. Which was kind of dumb. Maybe he’d asked someone else out. Was he even home?

  The door opened. Lackluster eyes and hollow cheeks greeted her. Tom looked haggard.

  “Surprise.” She opened her hands, lifting her shoulders.

  “What are you doing here?” His track pants and gray tee hinted at the hard planes of muscles underneath. “I thought you had plans.”