His Unexpected Family

by Patricia Johns

  “Wait, Em.” It was Steve. He walked toward her, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Can we talk?”

  “Sure.” Emily waited till he was at her side, then started walking back toward the rest of the family. Steve matched her pace.

  “This can’t be easy for you.”

  “That’s what Sara said.”

  “Oh, come on, Em. You’re single. Do you ever want to get married? Finding a guy with a baby isn’t going to be easy.”

  “Don’t worry yourself over my romantic life,” she retorted. “Look, Steve, I know this is really hard. None of us knew about this baby. Jessica is gone. It’s a hard time on the whole family.”

  “No, it’s worse for me.”

  “Of course. Jessica was your sister. I didn’t mean to imply—”

  “And Cora is my niece. She’s only your—what—second cousin?”

  The scent of the approaching rain was getting stronger now, and the wind started to pick up. She shivered and began to walk faster.

  “What do you want, Steve?”

  “She belongs with me and Sara.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’re her closest relatives. You aren’t.”

  “Jessica chose me. This wasn’t my idea. She named me Cora’s guardian in her will.”

  Steve stopped, and Emily turned to face him. She could hear the low rumble of thunder far off in the distance and tears welled up in her eyes. What did he want from her? Did he expect her to just hand the baby over and walk away?

  “You don’t want this.” Steve shook his head slowly, as if disappointed with a small child. “It might seem all romantic and sweet now, but babies are a huge amount of work. What about your career?”

  “Let me worry about that, Steve. I’m a grown woman.”

  “Fine. But when you change your mind, call me. I’ll come and get her.”

  The dripping condescension in his voice was almost more than Emily could bear, and she turned around and walked away, moving toward the grave site. The service would begin soon, and they would all pay their last respects to Jessica Shaw.

  When Emily looked back, she saw Sara staring after her with a strange intensity, the wind ruffling her short hair and her little girls standing at her knees. Uncle Hank didn’t seem to be noticing very much in his grief, and he was talking to Emily’s father, both men nodding sadly.

  They expected to bring Cora home with them today, she realized with a chill. Did Steve and Sara really think it would be that easy, to simply point out the hard work a baby would be and have her pass Cora off like a piece of luggage? That image of Chief Greg Taylor rose in her mind again, and she knew exactly who she needed to talk to—the one person without a personal interest in this.

  “The service is going to start soon.” Emily looked up in relief to see the compassionate face of her mother. “Come on, sweetie.”

  Together, they made their way with the rest of the family toward the grave site where the minister was waiting, the pages of his Bible fluttering in the rising wind. It was time to say their goodbyes.

  * * *

  Rain pelted the sidewalk outside Greg’s office window. The afternoon light turned almost dusky in the rainstorm, and he leaned his elbows on his desk and looked out at the downpour. The plains offered little shelter from a summer storm, and as the clouds gathered, the wind whistled through the buildings. The air smelled of electricity and wet earth, and he inhaled deeply, enjoying the finger of air that wriggled through the crack of the open window. It was an old building, the kind with windows that opened at the top, leaning back on a brass hinge, and today he was thankful for the connection to the outdoors.

  It had been a long morning. Before coming into work, he’d dropped by the nursing home to see his mother. The dementia was worse lately. A few months ago she remembered him perfectly and would look up at him with a smile, but this morning she frowned at him in confusion.

  “Why are the police here?” she asked. “Is everyone all right?”

  He hated scaring her like that.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he’d said softly. “Everything is fine. I’m sorry to disturb you.”

  He knew better than to try to remind her of who he was. It would only upset her further—she would seem to remember for a moment, and then suddenly look fearful, wondering why an officer was in her room and what the bad news must be. She always associated police with bad news when she was confused.

  One of the nurses had given him a sympathetic pat on the arm, promising to call him when she was more aware.

  What he hated worse than scaring his own mother was the helplessness. As a cop, he was used to solving problems. He had the authority to stop bad things from happening, and he made sure he did that. He was a big man, muscular and tall, and he was accustomed to the automatic respect his physique demanded, but when it came to his mother, none of these things mattered. She didn’t see him as her protector; she saw him as a threat. He wanted to do something—fix it, if he could. He wanted to put his big, brawny body between his mother and the disease that snipped away at her memories, but he couldn’t.

  Sitting at his desk, he’d been going through the mounds of paperwork that came with his position, but his mind kept slipping back to his mother. After his dad was gone, his mother had a lot more to worry about, raising two kids on her own. She went back to work as a secretary. It was a job she was good at, but it kept her away from home more often than she liked.

  Greg and his sister, Lynn, generally looked out for each other after school. But during school hours, Richard Pike, one of the bigger guys in his class, decided it was his life’s mission to make Greg as miserable as possible. From his head being plunged into the toilet to being beaten up during recess, Greg’s school life had been misery. Then he’d come home to the empty house and he’d sit there watching whatever show was on, trying to forget about the ache in his heart from losing his dad, and trying not to think about the next day, when he’d have to go back to school and face Richard all over again. Times like those, all he wanted was a hug from his mom, but she wouldn’t be home from work for hours yet.

  That was before he learned how to box.

  His mother wasn’t the only person on his mind, however. Thoughts of Emily had been worming their way in there, too...images of her with Cora in her arms and that sparkle in her eye just before a smile slid onto her face. Greg knew all too well that mixing work with pleasure was a really bad idea, but somehow his thoughts of Emily were the most comfortable thoughts available to him, so he didn’t push them away.

  Scanning a form and signing the bottom, he put the paper aside and flipped down to the next triplicate form waiting for his attention. Outside, thunder boomed and the room suddenly lit up with a flash of lightning. He glanced up again. The wind had shifted direction, blowing rain in through the open window, and he stood up to shut it.

  There was a tap on the door, and as he flicked the lock on the window into place, his secretary, Joyce, poked her head in.

  “Chief? There’s a Miss Shaw to see you. Do you have time?”

  “Yes, definitely.”

  He’d answered rather quickly, to his chagrin, and Joyce smothered a smile. He hated it when she thought she could read him like a book, and he gave her an annoyed look as she stepped back and pushed the door open.

  “Come on in, Miss Shaw,” she said, and she gave Greg one more look of amused knowing. Emily stepped inside, Cora’s car seat in one hand, a blanket draped over it. Emily, on the other hand, was completely drenched. Her hair was slicked down against her head, and a trickle of water ran down her cheek. She wore a black pantsuit that was equally sodden.

  “What happened to you?” he asked, coming toward her. “Joyce, would you go get some towels, please?”

  “You bet, Chief.”

  Emily shrugged and laughed se
lf-consciously. “It was really coming down out there. I should have just waited in my car till it let up, but then I thought I could make it and—” she waved her hand “—it doesn’t matter.”

  Greg laughed. “Well, it’s nice to see you. Cora looks dry.”

  Emily looked down at Cora with a tender smile. “Warm and dry,” she agreed.

  “Here.” Greg helped her to peel off the black suit jacket she wore, and he took his sport coat off the hanger on the back of his door. Draping it over her shoulders, she shivered involuntarily and looked up at him gratefully. “Have a seat.”

  Emily sank into the chair across from his desk. He could see the tension in her face, along her jaw and around her eyes.

  “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  “It’s a welcome break.” He gestured to the pile of paperwork. “So how are you?”

  “I’m fine.” She gave him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, then she shrugged. “I’m not fine. Today was Jessica’s funeral.”

  “That’s right. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” He avoided the funerals. It was part of his attempt to compartmentalize the suffering he had to see in this line of work.

  “No, it’s all right. Don’t worry about that.” She shook her head, dismissing it. “Steve was there.”

  “Oh, how is he?”

  “Steve is Steve.” She gave him a tight smile. “He wants me to give him custody of Cora.”

  “I see.” Greg wasn’t entirely surprised to hear this. Custody was a complicated thing at the best of times, but it got worse when the children were so tiny. Everyone wanted to raise a baby. It was the kids who were old enough to have attitude and emotional issues that got shuffled around a lot.

  “He was pretty pushy about it. Sara was... I don’t know how to describe her. She was pretty intense. I got the distinct impression that they expected me to hand Cora over, and they’d go home with her today.”

  “Did they say that?”

  “Not exactly.” Emily sighed and looked away for a moment. “I know I probably sound like a crazy person right now, but they kind of scared me.”

  “No, you don’t sound crazy.”

  “Thanks.” She gave him a grateful smile. “I just wanted to come by and pick your brain a little.”

  “My pleasure.” He leaned back in his chair, and just then, the door opened again, and Joyce came in with a couple of towels from the women’s locker room.

  “Thank you,” Emily said, taking one and shaking it out. She blotted her face and hair. Joyce slipped back out without a word.

  Emily peeked down under the blanket at the sleeping baby and then let the towel fall to her lap. She looked at Greg silently for a long moment, worry creasing her brow. He let the silence stretch, waiting for her to speak.

  “Greg, what happens in these cases?” she asked finally.

  “You’re the guardian named in the will,” he said. “That makes you her legal guardian, and Steve can’t just bully you into changing that.”

  She nodded. “Is that final?”

  “Well...” He didn’t want to scare her, but he didn’t want to lie to her, either. “Nothing is ever entirely final, I suppose. Unless you adopt her.”

  “Can Steve contest the will?” she asked.

  “In theory. Do you think he’d go that far?”

  Emily sighed. “I have no idea, but he was pretty focused on convincing me to give her up today at the funeral.”

  A finger of irritation wormed through his stomach. He didn’t like the thought of someone trying to bully her, and it made him want to throw his weight around a little. Instead of voicing his feelings, he asked, “Did he threaten you?”

  “No.” She laughed softly. “This is Steve we’re talking about. He got snide and condescending, but that was it. He’s my cousin, after all.”

  Greg made a noncommittal sound. Yes, he remembered Steve well. He’d been both snide and condescending in high school, too. He’d never been cruel on the level of Richard Pike, but he’d made a couple of junior guys pretty miserable senior year, and Greg had taken it upon himself to stand up for them. Steve was a bully, and if there was one thing Greg could not abide, it was a bully.

  “Do you want to raise Cora?” Greg asked, changing the subject.

  “More than anything. I know this seems strange because I’m not exactly in a position to be taking children into my home, but I do. I’ve fallen in love with her. I don’t want to give her up.”

  He nodded silently. Of course she didn’t. Who wouldn’t fall in love with that baby? The entire department here in Haggerston had fallen in love with her.

  “Have you seen these sorts of cases before?” she asked, her full attention focused on his face.

  He nodded slowly. “Yes, a few times.”

  “What normally happens?”

  “Well, normally, the parents have named the godparents in their will and nothing changes.”

  She nodded, visibly relaxing. “Have you ever seen a will contested?”

  Greg sighed. “It’s probably best not to worry about this sort of thing unless you have to.”

  “Maybe so, but I’m worried now.” She didn’t look the least bit daunted. “What happens when the will gets contested?”

  “It gets ugly,” he admitted. “Everyone loves the baby and wants to raise it. Everyone has a reason why the other people are a terrible choice. People say things they can’t take back and close-knit, loving families end up fractured. It can get really bad.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.” Her voice softened, and he had to lean forward with a creak of his chair to catch her words.

  “That doesn’t mean that will happen to you,” he added. “You’re her legal guardian, okay? That hasn’t been contested.”

  She nodded. “I know. Thanks.” She slipped his jacket off her shoulders and rose to her feet. “I appreciate this.”

  Greg stood up, too, and he came around his desk, then sat on the edge of it. “I’m not a father,” he said. “But I deal with a lot of parents in this job.”

  “Me, too.” She chuckled.

  “Yeah, that’s true.” He shot her a grin. “Then you’ve probably been told the same things I’ve been told. Parents start worrying from birth. They worry about all sorts of worst-case scenarios, most of which never happen.”

  “So don’t be silly?” she asked.

  “Not at all.” He chuckled. “I was going to say that worrying is part of the package when you’re a parent. Maybe just realize that you’re not alone in your worries. Consider it more a welcome to the club.”

  Emily’s warm gaze met his, and her eyes crinkled up into a smile. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve heard all day.”

  Greg felt a sudden wave of satisfaction. “Anytime.” He meant it more than she realized, he was sure.

  Just then, Cora began to fuss, and Emily rocked the car seat gently. “I’d better get her home,” she said quietly. “I don’t have another bottle with me.”

  “Take care.”

  Emily turned toward the door and opened it.

  “Oh, and Emily—”

  She turned back, those deep brown eyes meeting his once more.

  “Come by anytime, okay? I mean that.”

  “Thanks.” She flashed him a smile. “I appreciate it.”

  With that, she slipped out, and he listened to the sound of her heels clicking as she made her way through the station, the rhythm blending into the hustle and bustle of police activity. With a smile to himself, he turned back to his paperwork.

  Chapter Four

  A couple of days later, on a warm summer evening, Emily sat on the couch across from her two friends, Nina and Beth. Beth sat with her legs tucked up underneath her, her pregnant belly protruding out in front of her. She was only
about six months along, but she was all tummy, as she put it. She had a mop of curly mouse-brown hair and two swollen bare feet that were normally swathed in Birkenstocks. She rubbed her stomach absently, looking over at Cora, who lay nestled in Nina’s arms.

  Nina sat next to Beth, looking down at the tiny infant with a wistful look on her face. Her blond hair was cut short in a pixie cut, and her makeup was impeccable. With legs a mile long, Nina had pretty much everything that Emily envied.

  “She’s beautiful.” Beth looked over at Emily and shook her head in wonder. “I can’t believe that you have a baby.”

  “Me, neither.” Emily grinned over at her. “You’re not far behind, you know.”

  “Three months.” Beth leaned her head back against the couch. “I’m going to be the size of a house!”

  “But a cute house.” Nina shot Beth a teasing look. “Oh, stop worrying. You’ll be fine. You’re blissfully married to Howard. He’ll love you, anyway.”

  Emily looked over at her two best friends. They’d been there for each other since their idealistic days when Beth was a feminist with a loudspeaker, and Nina was plotting her financial empire. Emily had been the boring one—taking early childhood education and going to bed at sensible hours. In the meantime, life had unfurled in that way it always seemed to, in the very last way any of them expected.

  Nina looked up with a glint in her eye. “What about this Chief Taylor, Em?”

  “What about him?” Emily pasted on her most innocent look.

  “Well, you’ve dropped his name often enough,” Beth pointed out.

  “There’s nothing to tell.” Emily shrugged. “He was the one who dropped Cora off, so it stands to reason that we’d talk from time to time.”

  Nina and Beth exchanged a look.

  “Actually, it doesn’t stand to reason at all,” Nina quipped with a grin.

  “He knew my cousin, so we’re acquainted with some of the same people.” There was no use trying to explain this to Nina and Beth when they had that look on their faces. She laughed and shook her head.