A Mother for His Adopted Son

by Lynne Marshall

  Something about her easygoing and encouraging style helped him open up. “You know my greatest fear is that Dani might lose his other eye. They say the odds are low with a single retinoblastoma, but having gone through this with him I guess I’m still afraid it could happen again. And the kid so doesn’t deserve any of this.” He bit back his frustration.

  Andrea kept quiet, cuing him to keep talking, so he did. “No matter what happens, my goal is to make as normal a life as possible for Dani.”

  “I can tell how much you care about him.” She folded her hands on the quartz surface, and he thought the counter was high for her stature. She’d need a little stool to wash dishes at this sink. The thought tickled him and made the corner of his mouth quirk, imagining her standing on a stool in his kitchen, washing plates. So domestic, so different than the artistic impression she gave. Where had that thought come from?

  She couldn’t be more than five feet, but what a powerhouse. She’d probably never be caught dead washing dishes for a guy. He sensed she’d never let anyone take advantage of her. She sure as hell hadn’t let him that day. Thinking back to her stern father, he was sure she’d probably had to grow a steel spine to survive. Yeah, no way she’d be a happy dishwasher.

  He poured them both more tea and they sat at the kitchen table, and because she was so easy to be around, and seemed so sympathetic toward Dani, he decided to really open up. “I’m afraid people will look at Dani and pity him, which, by the way, you absolutely didn’t do. Thanks for that.”

  She dipped her head and blinked slowly, then took a sip of her tea, so serious. “I’ve had a lot of practice with our clientele.”

  “I’m sure you have.” He sipped, but the tea was too hot, so he put the cup on the table. “I also worry that other kids will be curious about his fake eye and make him self-conscious.”

  “I think all kids are self-conscious about something.”

  A quick flash of him being around seven or eight and having to wear faded thrift-store shirts that didn’t fit to school, because that was all his mother could afford, reminded him firsthand about self-consciousness.

  “The thing is, I don’t want him to slip into the mindset of feeling inferior. That could set the tone for the rest of his life. I’d hate for that to happen.” He’d been fighting those feelings his entire life, and he’d obviously said something to move Andrea, because she leaned forward and her hand cupped his forearm and tightened.

  “I’m going to make the most perfect eye ever for him. The other kids won’t even notice.”

  “Then it’ll be my job to teach him to be totally independent, not afraid to try things.” His crazy, lovable foster family came to mind. “Hell, if he takes after any of his new uncles, he’ll give me gray hair before my time.”

  “I think your plan is perfect. Dani’s a lucky boy to have you as his father. By the way, is that your family in that big picture?”

  He considered the Murphys his family, especially after he’d been taken away from his mother at ten and she’d officially given him up when he’d been twelve—which had hurt like nothing he’d ever experienced before and could never be matched until Katie had walked away—and they’d kept him until he’d been eighteen, then sent him off to college.

  “Yep. The big clan, circa 1990. I was around ten in that one.”

  “Ah, you were the middle brother. I thought I recognized you.” She laughed lightly, and he was glad she’d taken the time to look at his family picture, but didn’t feel like going into the complicated explanation of who they really were. He hardly knew her. He’d let her think what he let the rest of the world think—he’d come from a big, happy family.

  “Yeah, try being in the middle of four daredevil brothers. Those guys were tough acts to follow. Probably why I went into medicine.” His professional choice had also been part of his determination to prove the positive impact fostering could have. It had been his way of giving something back. But she didn’t need to know that, either.

  She smiled and he grinned back. He found his smiles coming more often and easier, spending time with her. It felt good.

  “I can only imagine.” She went quiet.

  They sat in silence for a while, him in deep thought about the responsibilities of being a single father, about how his parents had taught by example the importance of routine and stability in every kid’s life, and having no clue what Andrea was ruminating about. Soon the tea was gone and she stood.

  “Time to go?” How could he blame her? He’d gone quiet after the topic of his family had come up, then had gotten all maudlin about his lack of parental skills. Great company. Who’d want to stick around for more of that?

  “Yes. I want to get an early start on my project tomorrow.”

  He stood now, too. “I’m really glad you’re doing it.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, you’re not nearly as bad as I originally thought.” They laughed together, and it lightened the shifting mood. He wanted that earlier ease back between them.

  “Oh, yes, the impertinent ocularist strikes again,” she teased. “But I could have sworn you started it.”

  “I was uptight. Give me a break.”

  He could tell from the benign look on her face that she was indeed giving him a break, that she totally understood, especially now having met Dani, and he truly appreciated that.

  They headed for the family room, where her tackle box and backpack had been left, Dani’s silicone cast safely tucked inside. “And I had no idea what you’d just been through.” With the backpack over one shoulder she faced him, an earnest expression softening her serious face. “Please forgive me for being rude to you that day.”

  “I’ve already forgotten. Besides, after the way you and Dani became fast friends tonight, I kind of have to.”

  That got another smile and a breath of a laugh out of her.

  He walked her to the door and allowed one quick thought about how great she looked in those black slacks and the pale blue sweater hugging her curves. It was so much better than those faded scrubs and that frumpy white lab coat.

  They said good-night, and he asked when he’d need to bring Dani in for reshaping of the wax mold she planned to make.

  “I’ll be in touch,” she said, “as soon as possible, I promise.”

  “Then I’ll take you at your word.”

  They said their goodbyes. He closed the door and scratched his chin and let his mind wonder about the possibility of something more working out between him and the perky ocularist. That was a first since Katie, too, and a good thing. Wasn’t it about time to start dating again? For an instant he realized how single mothers must feel, wondering if a man wanted to get involved with a lady with kids. Was that how it worked the other way around? Would it matter to Andrea, as it had mattered to Katie, that he was an adoptive father?

  CHAPTER THREE

  SAM STROLLED INTO the hospital employee cafeteria to grab a quick lunch before his afternoon clinic. He’d barely finished playing catch-up with his electronic charting and had about twenty minutes to spare. Going through the line, he grabbed the fish of the day, and his guess was as good as any as to what type of white fish it was. He went for the least overcooked vegetables, green beans, grabbed a whole wheat roll and a tossed green salad and was good to go.

  After paying, he juggled his cafeteria tray and searched around the noisy and crowded room—which smelled entirely too much of garlic—for a place to sit. A pleasant surprise awaited him when he spotted the light blond hair of his new favorite ocularist, especially after the slam-dunk impression she’d made on Dani last night, and he made a straight line to where she sat. Fortunately, she was eating alone. And reading a book, so she didn’t notice him coming.

  “Is this seat taken?”

  Andrea glanced up, totally distracted by whatever novel she’d b
een reading. “Oh, hi.” An instant flash of recognition and a welcoming smile made him think he’d made the right decision. “No, join me.”

  “Thanks.” The invitation, which he’d clearly forced, still managed to make him happy. He sat, but not before removing the dishes from his tray and balancing that against the leg of the table. From this angle he could see the book was a biography on the artist Jackson Pollock. “Reading picture books, I see. No wonder you and Dani got along so well.” He could always manage superficial conversations easily enough, had learned early on it was a survival technique in the foster care system, which had been pointed out to him by his “mom” when he’d tried the old you-can’t-reach-me routine at first. The quiet and withdrawn kids got moved around more than the ones who knew how to socialize. All he wanted to do was prove he was worth keeping. That was the truth.

  She rolled her eyes at his awful attempt at humor. “America’s cowboy artist. Our very own van Gogh, torment and all.” She closed the book and gave all of her attention to him. He liked that. Her naturally beautiful eyes were less distracted by makeup today, which he definitely also liked.

  “How’s our project going?” He pushed around the green beans rather than taking a bite, then decided to pile them on top of the piece of fish, thinking it might help the bland cafeteria food have a little more flavor that way.

  “I’m off to a good start. I’ll need to see Dani again, though, to exactly fit the wax mold.”

  “I can have my sister bring him by this afternoon, if you’d like.” Yeah, piling the food together hadn’t helped enhance the flavor at all, but watching Andrea, hearing her voice, made the taste far more palatable. Next he dug into his salad.

  “I should be able to work that in. Can she bring him around two-thirty?”

  “I’ll see.” He got out his mobile phone and texted Cat, his foster sister, the one he felt closest to. Being a mother of two toddlers herself, plus the fact she lived five miles from him, it’d made sense to ask her to be his child-care provider when his parental leave came to an end and he had to go back to work. Not to mention the fact that her husband, Buddy, a welder, had agreed to her staying at home with their kids. They lived on a tight budget, and she could use the extra income that watching Dani brought. The way he saw it, it was a win-win situation.

  Andrea took a dainty bite of her salad, and he smiled at her, then tore into his roll, slathering it with butter, then taking a bite. “So, do you eat here every day?”

  “Not usually, but I came in early today to start Dani’s mold and forgot to pack a lunch.”

  “Thanks for that.” He got a return on his text. “She’ll be here. Now I’ll have to explain that you’re located in the dungeon next to the ghoulish morgue.” He finished his text and looked up to see her studying him. Had he been insensitive about her department and its location? Had he insinuated that hers was an inferior department? Hell, it didn’t even have windows, even when right at this moment in time it was the most important department in the whole hospital for him and his son. “I’m sorry if that sounded mean. I have jerk tendencies. I blame it totally on the influence of four brothers.”

  “You do have a big family, I can’t argue with that.”

  “Crazy big, but it made me who I am. Major flaws and all.” He grinned at her and really liked what she returned. “Sorry.” If he’d offended her about her department being in no man’s land, she’d easily forgiven him, judging by the sweet smile that highlighted those gorgeous lips. He allowed himself a moment or two to check them out. And when was the last time he’d gotten carried away with wild ideas by a woman’s mouth?

  He took another bite of his food to distract him from thinking of what it would feel like to kiss her. “This has got to be the worst lunch I’ve had in a long time,” he said, to cover his real thoughts. But thanks for that luscious mouth of yours.

  “The salad’s not bad.”

  He pushed his plate aside and pulled the salad bowl closer, deciding to take her up on her tip and stick with that and the roll. “Right about now I’m dreaming about Thai food.”

  “I love Thai food.” She matched him bite for bite with the salad.

  “Yeah? You like pineapple fried rice? Pad Thai?”

  “Love it, and satay, peanut sauce, all of it.”

  “But have you ever had coconut curry with braised chicken and egg noodles?”

  “No, and now my mouth is watering, thank you very much.” She played with her salad, no longer taking bites.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to ruin your lunch, but sometime I’m going to have to take you to Hollywood Boulevard for my new favorite dish.”

  She tossed him a questioning glance over the vague remark. And, yes, he was testing the water. Playing it safe was a knack he’d developed, and always preferable to getting rejected.

  “Uh, yes, I guess theoretically that was an invitation. You interested?”

  “Well, you can’t very well dangle coconut curry in front of me like that without inviting me. Theoretically speaking, that is. It wouldn’t be polite.”

  “Agreed. And we both know I’m nothing if not polite.” Considering their rocky beginnings, with his being pushy, demanding and rude and her giving him a taste of his own medicine right back, his absurd comment hit the mark and she laughed. He joined her. Good. She had a sense of humor. He’d try to keep her smiling, because she really was gorgeous to watch that way. “Truth is, since adopting Dani I don’t get out much anymore. So are you really up for this?”

  “Absolutely. But who’ll watch Dani?”

  Thoughtful of her to wonder. “I’ll ask Cat again, since I haven’t introduced him to Thai food yet.” And I’d like time alone with you.

  “Okay. Theoretically, that sounds good.”

  “Yeah, some Dutch beer, coconut curry—heaven.”

  “I know it’s a gazillion calories, but I prefer Thai iced tea.”

  “Chicks.” He tossed his paper napkin across the remaining half of his salad. “Only a lady would pass up good Dutch beer for sweet tea.” He wasn’t sure why he liked to tease her so much, but the instant she grinned he remembered. They were having something he’d almost forgotten. Fun.

  “My prerogative.” She feigned being insulted. “And guys. Always competitive. Please, don’t tell me you’ll force me into a hot curry tasting contest. I’m not one of your brothers.”

  He leaned forward and gazed into her truly enticing eyes. “How do you know us so well? You have a bunch of brothers, too?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. I’m an only child.”

  “Really? I don’t know many of those. What’s it like to have a house all to yourself. To know what the sound of a pin dropping is? To never have to cross your legs and dance around in the hallway, waiting for the bathroom?”

  After a brief and polite smile on the last comment she went serious, met his gaze and held it. “Lonely?”

  That answer made him sad. He knew that kind of loneliness, plus fear, having been left alone at night for a couple of years before he’d been taken away from his mother—he hated the memory and tried to suppress it as much as possible—plus, he wanted to put a positive spin on the conversation to keep things upbeat. “And quiet. I bet it was really quiet at your house, you lucky dog.” Though the quiet used to scare him to death as that left-behind kid.

  She’d finished her lunch and moved her salad bowl away to prove it. “So you grew up in a noisy house, big deal. Isn’t that why they invented earbuds and playlists?”

  Being around her kept him from going to that old and awful place in his mind.

  “Headphones back then at my house with portable CD players. And anytime I used them one of my brothers would sneak up and pull them off my head. Made me all flinchy, waiting. Couldn’t even enjoy the music.”

  He’d made her laugh lightly again and he really appr
eciated her putting up with his silliness, because he needed to get far away from bad memories. The fact that he’d fudged about his “family” really being a foster family didn’t seem relevant now. “You know, if I didn’t have to get back to work, I’d invite you to have lunch there right now.”

  “But I’ve already had lunch. Just finished.”

  She tipped her head, a suspicious gaze, clueing him in that he needed to do something. After all this big buildup about the great Thai food, the almost-but-not-quite invitation, he’d better make his move beyond the theoretical. And as his foster father used to say, there was no time like the present.

  “Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night, then? I’m thinking Thai food. Hollywood. Beer or iced tea, but definitely fried bananas for dessert.” He’d just asked out the first woman after his breakup with Katie and becoming a father, and it felt damn good. He was ready for this. Except maybe he should hold off on the triumph part until he got her answer.

  A why-not expression brightened her rich mocha eyes, but only after a long moment’s hesitation. This one wasn’t looking for a date or a boyfriend—a good thing in general, but right this moment a little unnerving. “Sure,” she said finally. “I’d like that.”

  Both surprised and happy, he grinned and rapped his knuckles twice on the cafeteria tabletop. “Great. It’s a date, then.”

  * * *

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” Andrea said over the phone after lunch. “I’ve just made plans for tomorrow night.” Why she’d agreed to have dinner with Sam Marcus was beyond her, but he’d lured her with a great-sounding meal, and to be honest the thought of spending a few hours with him hadn’t seemed like such a bad idea at the time. Not even fifteen minutes later she doubted her decision.

  Chalk another one up to dear old Dad, the first and worst man in her life.

  “With a man?” Mom didn’t even try to hide her surprise.

  Andrea snickered. Yes, it was a rare occurrence for her to accept dates, so she couldn’t blame her mother’s honest outburst. Jerome Rimmer had done a number on both of them. “Yes, Mother, a man.” A doctor, no less. Was she crazy?