“My toys,” she says, then marches over to the box and pulls out a stuffed bear that she then clutches tightly to her chest. “Henry,” she says. “This is Henry.”
“Well, hello, Henry. Nice to meet you.”
An argument ensues behind us, both voices taking their turns in shouting.
“I love you Meg! Remember that!” Kayla calls out before the slamming of a door and then the starting of an engine.
“Where is Mommy going?” Meg asks me, pointing over my shoulder.
Garrett is yelling something, the sound of his voice growing dimmer. When I finally turn around, he’s chasing after the car that is speeding down the driveway in reverse, the headlights illuminating him.
“She’ll be back,” I assure Meg because I think it’s the right thing to say to keep her from being afraid. Then I pick her up, holding her and Henry, the stuffed bear, close. She feels much lighter in my arms than I would have thought, and I walk down the porch steps with her and wait until Garrett gives up his chase, drops his flailing arms and turns back to me… to us.
He hangs his head down in what I think is shame, then walks slowly toward us.
“I don’t know what just happened,” he finally says, looking at the girl in my arms and then up to me.
“Sounds like you have a daughter,” I say, holding the girl tight.
* * *
Garrett had brought the boxes of toys, blankets and clothes inside while I settled Meg on the living room couch, bringing her a cup of water and some crackers. She’s incredibly calm for a child who has just been left by her mother and turned over to Garrett and I who are basically strangers, even if Garrett happens to be her father.
And I’m calm too, as if her being dropped here is the most natural thing in the world. The unease I’d felt about seeing a woman Garrett had slept with years ago has vanished, and all I can think about is that Meg needs a mother. I can be that mother. I look into her deep brown eyes, set in a face that is rounded with chubby, pink cheeks, an adorably cute nose and eyebrows and hair that are the color of chestnuts, glossy and thick, perhaps the same coloring that was hiding under Kayla’s highlights.
“I want my blankie,” Meg tells me in a very matter-of-fact way after pretending to feed Henry some of her cracker. “The one with Elsa on it.”
“I’ll get it for you,” I tell her, wishing Garrett’s TV was hooked up so I could play some cartoons for her, something comforting and familiar.
I walk toward the entryway where Garrett is standing. His entire body is turned away from me, an arm cocked up so that his face is being supported by one of his hands.
“That everything?” I ask, touching his shoulder.
He startles, dropping his hand before turning around, a deep sigh following. “I’m so sorry about this,” he tells me, his eyes not meeting mine.
“It’s okay.” I use the softest, most comforting voice I can muster. “She wants her Elsa blanket—did you see it in one of the boxes?” I peer over at the collection of cardboard containers he’d stacked by the door.
“Elsa? I don’t…” He shakes his head. “Should I know what an Elsa is?”
I laugh, unable to stop myself. “She’s a Disney character who becomes a queen. I think every little girl and boy Meg’s age knows that song she sings by heart.”
“Oh… sure.” He chuckles, widens his eyes and then goes right back to being serious. “I really fucked up, huh?”
“She… Kayla… never tried to tell you before?”
He shakes his head again. “Never. She and I… well… I met her at spring training my first year in Minneapolis. It wasn’t a long-term thing. But if I’d known, I wouldn’t have shirked my responsibilities. You know that, right?”
That pinch of jealousy hits again. But it’s not so much about the fact he slept with Kayla—it’s the idea this woman had shared something with Garrett that I’d never be able to. He’ll never rest his hand on my belly the way Evan does to Paige. He’ll never go to birthing classes with me or be in the hospital room with me to welcome our child into this world. Kayla could have had that with him if she’d told him. And what she did have, she’d given away tonight.
The idea of Meg pushes me past those feelings of unworthiness because I can do something that Kayla apparently can’t. I can stand by this girl and do more than just remind her that I love her before I drive off into the night. In essence, I could be her mother.
“I know without a doubt you would have been there for her… for the both of them,” I say, reassuring him. “And now you can. We’ll get her settled in for the night, and then we’ll figure out the rest tomorrow.”
He lets out a breath that I think is tinged with relief before he pulls me close to his solid frame. “How do I deserve you, Kate? I don’t even want to think about what I’d do without you.”
“I’m not sure you’ll ever have to find out.” I kiss him before pulling away and rifling through the boxes nearest us. “That girl needs her Elsa blanket, and I’m not going to disappoint her.”
He laughs, then joins me. “Of course. I’ll help you look.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
KATE
“She’s adorable,” Beth says as she and I stand in her kitchen, drinking coffee and watching Meg play with Nathan and Cord in the living room. Her two boys are just as welcoming to her as they’d been to Quincy when Lexi had stopped by. “And her mother just dumped her off like she was a dog or something?”
“Or something…” I take a drink of my coffee and try to collect my thoughts.
I’d called Beth early this morning and asked if I could bring Meg over, explaining as much of the situation as I could over the phone. I’d considered bringing her to my Mom’s, but I didn’t want to risk a lecture on how I was getting in far too deep with Garrett. But I’d had to bring Meg somewhere because Mr. Hevener was coming back from the hospital today, and Garrett needed to be there for him. Still recovering from a heart attack, we both knew that springing a grandchild on him would have to wait. And even if it weren’t for all of that, I thought it would be good for Meg to be around some other children and not alone with me in Garrett’s farmhouse.
“Did she leave any contact info? Anything?” Beth is shaking her head, like she still can’t grasp the idea of a woman leaving such a small child behind.
“No… nothing. I’m not even sure Garrett remembers her last name.” I take another drink of my coffee, somehow hoping that the warm beverage sliding down my throat will push away the nerves I now find myself feeling.
There had been several hours of euphoria last night when I’d imagined myself stepping in as Meg’s mother. Garrett had helped me make up an impromptu bed of couch cushions, sheets, pillows and the Elsa blanket for Meg right next to us in the master bedroom. I’d tucked her in and told her everything would be fine. But when I’d climbed into bed with Garrett, I laid awake and considered this might not be the gift I’d first seen it as.
What mother in her right mind just dumps a child and then takes off? Maybe Kayla was having some kind of breakdown or brief lapse in judgment. Perhaps she’d realize what she’d done and come back for Meg, the girl gone as quickly as she’d arrived. Worse, what if it took months or years for Kayla to realize her blunder? By then, I’d have fallen in love with Meg, become the only mother she really knew, only to have her torn away or put through one of those awful custody fights.
“And you’re okay with this? You don’t seem all that upset about any of it.”
Beth speaking startles me. If she knew about my diagnosis, she’d understand why having Meg wouldn’t be upsetting at all. For as much as Garrett had assured me he didn’t care that I wouldn’t be able to have a child for him, the fact that he already has one might strengthen my trust that his mind would never change. If he could see his own eyes in Meg’s, deep and brown, then perhaps it wouldn’t matter so much if he didn’t see that same thing in some future child we might adopt.
“It’s part of being in a relationship
, isn’t it?” I say. “Being there when things get complicated.”
“Sure, but the way things with you and Garrett have been going, I was picturing you guys married in six months or less! You’ll want to start your own family, have your own kids.”
“Beth, that’s not—”
“And I’m not even sure she really looks like him,” she whispers, her gaze centering on Meg. “I mean, other than the eyes that happen to be the same color, does she look anything at all like Garrett to you?”
I’m about to say something, about to backtrack about the impossibility of having our own kids, then catch up with her line of questioning and ready myself to tell her she’s being silly.
But what if she’s not?
I stop and direct my gaze toward Meg just as I replay every interaction I’ve had with her in the last twelve hours and how much I’ve seen of her. I match those images up to the ones I have of Garrett.
There are of course the brown eyes, the same color as Garrett’s, but the shape and size aren’t even close.
There is the hair, thick like Garrett’s, but straight and chestnut, not even a hint of curl in it.
And while Garrett’s skin has a naturally tanned hue to it, Meg’s is pale and rosy, like she’d burn and freckle under too much time in the sun.
I move to her face, considering the shape, the type of nose and lips, things that she may grow into differently with age but that, for now, look nothing at all like Garrett.
I nearly gasp as this girl playing so happily with Beth’s sons finally comes into true focus. “How did I not see it?” I ask, not so much to Beth, but to myself.
“She might just look more like the mother,” Beth says like an afterthought. “It’s just I don’t see any of Garrett in her. It just seems a little fishy to me.”
It is plausible now that Kayla had this baby with someone else and decided Garrett was the kind of guy who wouldn’t shirk responsibility, who might take the girl in without any questions. I now replay the short meeting I’d had with Kayla and decide she was already a blonde under her highlights, maybe a dark and dirty one, but a blonde nonetheless. Even with all of the makeup she’d worn, I could see, almost without any doubt, that she had the light features of a blonde, and whomever Meg got her chestnut hair from, it wasn’t Garrett.
“I think you should try and find her, the mother,” Beth says, making a tisking sound.
“Can we just let them play?” I ask, setting my coffee down on the counter and taking a step toward the living room before turning back to Beth. “Let’s not talk about paternity or fishy situations, not right now.”
She smiles at me, kind understanding in her eyes. “Of course. We’ll leave it for later.”
We go to the living room, and I’ve barely just sat on the couch when Meg runs up to me, holding a doll in her hand. “They like Elsa too!” she beams, holding the Elsa doll tight and waving it around.
“Ben would kill me if he knew I got them that,” Beth says with a laugh, sitting down next to me and looking at her boys. “But who gives a crap about gender specific toys anymore? If they like Elsa, they get Elsa.”
“She’s beautiful,” I tell Meg before smiling at Beth. “You’re a good mom… a really good mom.”
“And you will be too,” Beth says, taking my hand and squeezing it.
Her words allow me to delude myself—even if just for a few moments—into imagining Meg is my daughter and that I’m already a good mother. And in these moments, life seems so very simple.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
GARRETT
“Hey, man! That girl still treating you all right?” Andy asks me over the phone before I can even get a word in edgewise.
“She is,” I say, glad he picked up my call.
“Good to hear.” He chuckles. “So what do I owe the pleasure? You calling to convince me how much happier I’d be if I’d settle down like you?”
“I can’t call just to say hi?” Come to think of it, other than some emails and texts, I hadn’t called Andy just to say hi. Consider me a shit friend.
He laughs. “You and I aren’t phone people, man. We don’t just call one another to chat… so what’s up?”
I sigh. Andy knows me too well, which is probably why he’s the only friend from the team I still keep in touch with. “You remember a woman named Kayla?” I ask, having wracked my brain but still coming up empty for the last name of the woman who I apparently fathered a child with.
“Yeah… wait… Kayla? I thought your girl’s name was Kate?”
I can feel myself turning red, even on the god damn phone. “It is, but this is someone different.”
“You dirty dog,” he snickers.
“No… it’s not like that, man. A woman named Kayla showed up at my house last night… showed up when I was with Kate, and—”
“And fucked everything to hell with you and Kate? Damn, I’ve had my share of psycho exes ruin things for me. That what happened?”
I let out a breath, wishing he’d just let me finish. “Not exactly. In fact, I think Kate might see this whole thing as a plus.”
“Oh? So Kate’s into that kind of thing?”
I sigh. “Wrong direction, man. I’m not talking three ways—”
“Then what are you talking?”
“She brought a child with her… a girl. Her name is Meg, and this Kayla tells me I’m her father.”
Silence.
Then finally, “No way. You’re messing with me.”
“I’m not. She dropped her off, jumped back in her car and sped down the driveway in reverse. All I got from her license plate was that it was from Minnesota, so I have no fucking idea how to track her back down and get a hold of her.”
“And where is this kid now?”
“She’s with Kate who thinks she’s the most adorable child ever born. I kind of wanted to call the cops this morning, but Kate said to give it a day.”
He’s silent for another moment before he says, “I guess it could be worse. Kate could have flipped her shit on you.”
“I know. Kate just has… mothering instincts I guess. But it’s not fair to her. If I could just find out Kayla’s last name, I might be able to figure this out.”
“Kayla Millbanks.” Andy spits the name out quickly, like he’d forget it in the next second if he didn’t say it just then. “Curvy blonde that you met when you first got to Minnesota. That sound about right?”
“Yeah… sounds like that could be it.” I wish I could say the last name sounded familiar or that hearing it sparked a light bulb in my head. But the sad thing is that it doesn’t ring any bells. How had I been the kind of guy who could sleep with a girl and not even know her last name?
“I’ll get you in touch with my lawyer here in Minneapolis. He’ll probably refer you to someone closer to home, but he can talk you through some things. He’ll tell you to call the cops for sure, and then hopefully they’ll start looking for this Kayla chick. I’m guessing you aren’t ready to play dad full time, are you?”
“I…” I’m not sure how to answer that exactly. I’d never feared the idea of fatherhood or imagined I was too young. But this is a completely different situation. If Kayla just disappeared, caring for Meg will be my responsibility, and as much as I think Kate might be cool with playing mom, can I really expect that of her or that it wouldn’t put any strain on our relationship?
“I haven’t even told my parents,” I finally say without really answering the question. “My dad just got back home today after another heart attack. Last thing I want to do is give him a third one.”
“Shit… sorry, man. That’s, uh… well, that’s a lot to deal with. He gonna be all right?”
“If he follows doctor’s orders… then I hope so. I just don’t want to stress my family out when they’re dealing with so much else right now.”
“Well, you can’t keep the kid in hiding. Like I said, I’ll give you the number for the lawyer or at the very least report it to the cops, and they’ll send
social services out. If you’re the dad, it’ll get figured out. And shit, it might not be all bad for your dad to know his genes are getting passed down to another generation.”
A wave of relief washes over me at the prospect this news could actually be good for my dad. Considering how pushy my family had been at that first dinner with Kate about me having kids, Andy might be right. Still, I’d like to wait a couple of days before I lay this kind of news on him.
“Thanks for talking me down, Andy,” I say, feeling like I’ve now got a concrete to-do list in my head. “I appreciate it.”
“Not a problem. And keep me posted! I’d like as much info as I can to avoid having the same thing happen to me.”
“Will do,” I say, thankful for his humor.
* * *
“You sure Beth doesn’t mind watching her for a few hours?” Kate and I are already halfway to Spokane when I ask, so even if Beth wasn’t okay with it, it’s a little late for me to pose the question.
“She thinks she’s adorable, and Meg doesn’t seem all that upset being left with people she doesn’t know well. It’ll be fine.”
There is an ease in the way Kate says that, but there is an edge of worry too that I detect, one that hadn’t been present last night when Kate was ready to feed and shelter Meg, ready to adopt her right on the spot it seemed.
“We have to call the police,” I say as we rumble along the freeway, our trip to Spokane a chance to buy a small bed, clothes and whatever else a three-year-old girl needs in a city big enough where people don’t know us and won’t ask questions. “I talked to Andy—”
“Andy?”
“My old teammate in Minneapolis. He gave me the number of a lawyer. We have to try to track Meg’s mother down.”
Kate lets out a sigh. “I know, but I wish we didn’t have to. I’d hate for Meg to go back to someone who doesn’t care.”
“I am the father,” I remind Kate. “Maybe I could get full custody or something?” I’m hoping to gauge her reaction, see if the reality of me being a dad is something she’d actually be okay with at her age. She might want a child more than anything else in the world, but would she want one now when she and I aren’t even married, don’t even officially live together?
Unbroken by Love (The Basin Lake Series Book 4) Page 22
