The Mommy Quest

by Lori Handeland

  Dean didn’t hear her approach, so she was given a moment to study him while he leaned against the counter drinking coffee, wearing nothing but his jeans with the top button open. When he looked like that, she wanted to get him naked all over again.

  His eyes met hers, and every memory passed between them. He smiled and her face grew hot, along with the rest of her body.

  Seeing her clothes strewn about the room only excited her more. She’d never had sex like that in her life, or at least, not since she was seventeen. She was so glad she’d had it with him.

  “Morning,” he said. “Coffee?”

  “Please.”

  Stella sat at the table because she didn’t know how much longer she could stand and not wobble.

  Dean set a mug in front of her, and his forearm brushed her shoulder. Unconsciously she leaned into him. He moved away, taking the chair on the opposite side of the table.

  “Stella, there’s something we should talk about.”

  “Okay.” She took a sip of her coffee.

  “Are you on the Pill?”

  And spit it right back into her cup.

  Dean appeared shocked. Why shouldn’t he be? Not that she was Miss Manners, but she wasn’t a pig.

  Speaking of which—

  “Where are the dogs, Wilbur, Tim?”

  “Not here,” he said shortly. “You’re changing the subject.”

  “Am I?”

  Dean gave an impatient huff. “Now I see why answering a question with a question is so annoying.”

  “Sorry.”

  He waited for her answer.

  “No,” she said. “I’m not on the pill.”

  He cursed so viciously she winced. He didn’t notice.

  “I’ve never done this before,” he muttered.

  “Could have fooled me.”

  He cast her a narrow glare. “I meant I’ve never had sex without protection. You make me forget—” his eyes softened “—so many things.”

  “Like?”

  “Like what a mistake this would be.”

  “We’re adults, Dean. This isn’t the mistake it once was. My dad can’t have you arrested anymore.”

  “I never cared about being arrested. I cared about screwing up your life, but I can’t seem to stop doing that. Even now.”

  “My life is fine.”

  Now that he was back in it.

  “What if I got you pregnant, Stella?”

  She’d never thought about kids once she’d left here—except, of course, for the ones she’d taught. Now she realized she hadn’t considered children because she didn’t want to have any one’s children but his.

  “What if you did?” she asked.

  “Aaargh!” He pulled at his hair, then put his head into his hands.

  “Don’t you want children?” she asked, her smile fading.

  Dean lifted his head, saw her stricken expression and sighed. “Stella, I—”

  A tap interrupted them. They both glanced at the door and froze.

  Ms. McCaferty stood on the other side of the screen, eyes wide as she took in the scene in front of her.

  Dean half dressed. Stella in his robe. Her clothes and his strewn all over the place. Her panties hung from the silverware drawer.

  The social worker’s gaze met Stella’s, and she scowled as her lips pursed. “No wonder you gave him such a good recommendation.”

  Ms. McCaferty turned on her heel and stomped away.

  Stella looked at Dean. “Who’s screwing up whose life now?”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “WHAT ARE YOU talking about?” Dean asked.

  “I gave you a good recommendation when she came to the school. Now she knows why. Or at least she thinks she knows why.”

  “Why?”

  Exasperation flashed across her face. “Because you slept with me.”

  He tilted his head. “Would that have worked?”

  “This isn’t funny, Dean. She could really mess things up with the adoption.”

  “Like hell,” he said, and shoved back his chair. He’d had all he could take of dancing around social services. He meant to end this today.

  Stella made a grab for him, but Dean was already out of her reach. He slammed through the door, and chased Ms. McCaferty across the yard, catching up to her in front of her car.

  “What’s your problem?” he demanded.

  She spun around. “Today, it’s you.”

  “What did I do?”

  Her gaze flicked over him from head to foot. “Plenty, from the looks of you.”

  Dean refused to lower his eyes. He might be a fool for sleeping with Stella, but he wasn’t embarrassed by it or by her. He lifted his chin and stared the woman down. “We’re adults, and this is none of your business.”

  “We don’t give children to gigolos.”

  Dean choked. That was something he’d never been called. His brother, Evan, on the other hand…

  “We specifically don’t allow people who— who—”

  “Bang? Boink? Boff?”

  Her eyes widened. If it were possible, steam would have come from her ears. “People who have sex with the principal,” she snapped, “while their child is Lord knows where—”

  “Hold on,” he interrupted, steam threatening to pour out of his own ears. “You think I was merrily screwing Stella’s brains out—”

  “Hey!” Stella shouted from the porch.

  “Sorry. Making love to Stella, while my son was lost?”

  Uncertainty filtered over Ms. McCaferty’s face. “Weren’t you?”

  “Never. Tim is at my parents’ house. Sleeping.”

  “No, he isn’t.”

  Tim stepped out of the cornfield.

  “How long have you been there?” Dean demanded. “Since bang, boink, boff.”

  Dean winced.

  “Nice one,” the social worker muttered. In this case, Dean had to agree with her.

  The corn rustled and Cubby shot out, trailed by Wilbur. Horror spread over Ms. McCaferty’s face, but she didn’t bolt, even when the doodles and Bear followed.

  “Stay!” Dean bellowed, and everyone jumped.

  The animals, to a one, sat and stared at Dean, waiting for further commands, Wilbur tilting his head exactly the way that Cubby did.

  Even Dean, who’d never been much for barnyard animal pets, thought that was cute. He turned to Ms. McCaferty, who seemed to be the only person in a million unaffected.

  Dean took a deep breath, and when he spoke, he was proud of how composed he sounded, despite the raging case of nerves in his belly.

  “We found Tim last night,” he said. “I should have called to let you know. I’m sorry. Now, what can I do for you this morning?”

  Ms. McCaferty stared at him for several seconds, then sighed. “I apologize for jumping to conclusions. Comes from too many years giving people the benefit of the doubt and being burned for it, or having the children in my care hurt because of it. I know I’m overly suspicious and rigid, but I have good reason to be.”

  “That’s understandable,” Dean said.

  “Thank you.” Ms. McCaferty cast a wary glance at the animals and continued. “But I have to tell you, I’m concerned about Tim.”

  “I’m fine!” Tim shouted. “Damn good.”

  “Tim!”

  “Darn good.”

  The social worker’s lips twitched. “A child his age needs a mother.”

  “I ain’t never had one before,” Tim announced.

  “Which is why you should have one now,” she said, without taking her eyes from Dean’s. For some reason, her being nice was more disturbing than her being nasty. “I can’t give my recommendation for adoption under these circumstances. I’m sorry.”

  Dean glanced at Stella. “Call Kim.”

  STELLA WAS ROOTED to the porch, unable to move, barely able to breathe as the answer to all their problems became clear.

  “Stella!” Dean said. “You mind?”

  She needed to speak u
p, but she was afraid. She’d said the same things to him before, and he’d thrown them back in her face. But so much more was at stake now than there’d been then.

  “You don’t need Kim,” Stella blurted. “You’ve got me.”

  Dean was so focused on Ms. McCaferty, he answered without even glancing her way. “You’re a principal, not a lawyer.”

  Stella came down the steps and crossed the yard, winking at Tim as she went by. His sweet, worried face wrinkled, then smoothed. He might not know what she was going to do, but he trusted her to help. Knowing that only made her all the more determined to do what needed to be done, regardless of the risk to her heart.

  Stopping directly in front of Dean, Stella took his hand. “I’m the woman who loves you.”

  “Stella, we’ve been over this—”

  “No. You’ve been over it. You never once asked what I wanted.”

  “What do you want?”

  “All I’ve ever wanted, Dean, was you.”

  Silence settled over the yard, broken only by the grumbles and groans from the herd of dogs, and one amazingly dainty snort from Wilbur.

  “I can’t let you marry me so I can adopt Tim,” Dean said. “It wouldn’t be right.”

  “No kidding,” Ms. McCaferty muttered.

  Stella ignored her. “You said you broke my heart when I was seventeen because you loved me. You plan to do the same thing now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you still love me.”

  “Stella—”

  “Tell me the truth,” she snapped, letting go of his hand. “Just once in our lives, Dean. Just once.”

  If he turned her away now, she’d be devastated. She’d never wanted anything as much as she wanted to make a family of three, and then some, with him.

  He seemed to struggle, clenching his jaw, his fists, too. Shaking his head as if denying an inner voice, at last he threw up his hands. “I never stopped loving you, Stella, and I never will.”

  He pulled her into is arms, and as he kissed her, the past and the present merged into one future. Everything was going to be all right.

  “Marry me?” Dean asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Not just for her.” He jerked his head at Ms. McCaferty.

  “I know.”

  And she did know. Dean loved her. He always had. She wanted to tuck that knowledge inside and enjoy it a while, but more people crept out of the cornfield.

  Dean’s mother took in Stella wearing Dean’s robe, Dean wearing little but pants and a smile, then crossed her arms and began to tap her foot. Stella felt like she’d been caught in the backseat of a Chevy at the drive-in.

  Dean’s dad put a hand on his wife’s arm. “Ellie. He’s thirty-two.”

  She ignored him. “When’s the wedding?”

  Dean squeezed Stella’s shoulders and faced his mother. “The sooner the better.”

  Mrs. Luchetti’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s my spatula?”

  Laughing, Dean hugged her.

  A startled smile appeared on his mom’s face and her gaze met Stella’s. “Thank you,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “Making him laugh again.”

  “Thank you,” Stella returned.

  “For what?”

  “Making him.”

  “I think I might have had something to do with that,” Dean’s father murmured.

  “Well, thank you, too.”

  John glanced at his wife.

  “Don’t,” she said. “You’ll scare her away.”

  He snorted. “If she scares that easy, she’ll never survive here.”

  “Dad,” Dean began, but his father waved his protest away.

  “Knock-knock,” John said.

  “Oh, I love these!” Stella cried. “Who’s there?”

  “Teacher.”

  She smiled. He’d put a lot of thought into this.

  “Teacher who?”

  “Teacher to go knocking on my door in the middle of the night.”

  Stella snickered. So did Tim. Dean and his mother groaned.

  “At last,” John said, “one for my side.”

  Stella gave Dean a quizzical look.

  “Dad tells every new member of this family a knock-knock. Some of us hate them—”

  “Like me,” his mom stated.

  “And others don’t,” her husband interjected. “Like Tim and Zsa-Zsa.”

  “And me,” Stella said. “Great company I have.”

  “Got that right.” John gave her an awkward hug. “Welcome.”

  When he released her, there was a tug on Stella’s robe.

  “You wanna be my mommy?”

  Tim’s face was so full of hope, Stella went down on her knees. “More than just about anything.”

  “Yay!” Tim shouted. “I was tryin’ real hard to get you two together.”

  “What are you talking about?” Dean asked.

  “I kept gettin’ you bad dates.” Tim rolled his eyes. “Didn’t you notice?”

  “Those were supposed to be bad dates?”

  “Sheesh, Dad. They were all terrible mommy material.”

  “They were.”

  “I wanted you to see that the only one worth keepin’ was her.” Tim threw his arms around Stella’s neck and squeezed.

  When he released her, Stella kissed his nose and he giggled.

  “The mommy quest is done,” Tim said. “We’re a family.”

  Dean turned toward Ms. McCaferty, who’d been amazingly silent the entire time. “I hope we’ll be a family,” he said.

  Ms. McCaferty considered Dean, Stella, Tim, Dean’s parents, the dogs and the pig, then she threw up her hands. “You win. You’re perfect for each other. Now you just have to convince the judge.”

  “Yippee!” Tim shouted as Ms. McCaferty got into her car and drove away. “I hope she never comes back.”

  “Ditto,” Dean muttered.

  “Ditto,” Stella echoed.

  “So,” Tim said, “how fast can I get a sister?”

  Stella choked. Dean smacked himself in the forehead. His parents shook their heads and walked into the cornfield.

  Tim blinked, all innocent blue eyes and adorable freckles. “Whad I say?”

  EPILOGUE

  DEAN COULDN’T BELIEVE all the rigmarole necessary to plan even a small wedding. If it wasn’t for his mother, he doubted they’d have been able to manage it at all. Once Stella had agreed to accept the position of principal at Gainsville Elementary for the rest of the year, she became busier than ever.

  Deaf to Dean’s begging, Stella had refused to move out of her apartment over the coffee shop until they were married.

  “It’s a bad example for Tim,” she said.

  As if the kid didn’t know exactly what was going on every time Dean took Stella home from one of their dates. Dean had insisted they go out at least twice a week.

  “I want everyone to know how much I love you.”

  He was embarrassed that he’d denied it for so long, even if it had been for Stella’s own good. Or what he thought was her own good. Instead, she’d been miserable for years and so had he.

  Opening up about the night of her attack had helped Stella begin to heal. She was still jumpier than he cared for, and her eyes had shadows that might never go away, but she was better. And Dean believed she’d only get better the longer she lived in Gainsville with him and Tim.

  The day of their wedding arrived nearly a month after the engagement. They would be married at his parents’ house, under a gazebo Dean’s brother Evan had built. Every last one of the Luchettis had arrived yesterday. Last night they’d celebrated the best gift of all. Tim’s adoption became final.

  “I’m a Luchetti forevermore!” he’d shouted, and even the sour-faced judge who’d presided over everything had to smile.

  About midafternoon, Brian arrived to drive Dean around the block to the ceremony.

  “Walking through the cornfield in tuxedos is not allowed,” Brian announced. �
�Besides, isn’t this what a best man is for?”

  “Thanks for agreeing to do it.”

  Dean had been unable to choose between his brothers for the position of best man, and in truth, Brian had always been as close to him as any Luchetti.

  “Anytime. Although I think you’ll only get married one time. Stella’s the woman for you.”

  “She always has been.”

  Silence settled over them. It seemed companionable until Brian blurted, “Kim’s going to have another baby.”

  “I thought you were going to wait.”

  “We didn’t.”

  Dean snorted. “No kidding. Is she mad?”

  “She’s happy.” Brian’s forehead creased. “She did say I get to take care of the baby while she works.”

  Dean thought about it for a second, then shrugged. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  The yard at the main house was full of pickup trucks in every color. Dean had left his red one there last night. Parked next to it was Colin’s black truck, then Evan’s silver and Aaron’s bright blue. Only Bobby hadn’t arrived with one since he’d flown in from Blah-blah-stan, as his wife arrived from Quintana Roo.

  “Dad!”

  Tim ran out to meet them dressed in a miniature tuxedo. He already had a splotch of dirt on the knee.

  “Gramma says Cubby and Wilbur can’t come to the wedding.” His lip wobbled.

  “Don’t even try it, kid. This time I agree with Gramma.”

  “Rats.” Tim kicked the dirt, sending a puff of dust over the already scuffed tip of his black shoes.

  “I thought you invited some of your friends from the football team to the party?”

  “I did.”

  “Then what are you whining about?” Dean asked. “Take a hike.”

  “’Kay!”

  “And don’t get dirty.”

  “Right,” Tim called over his shoulder with a laugh.

  “Go, go, go, go!” Zsa-Zsa twirled around and around on the grass, the blue-and-silver skirt of her cheerleading outfit belling around her legs. She shook her arms in time with the words, jangling the sparkly pom-poms in her hands.

  Kim had made good on the threat to buy her daughter the costume. Now Zsa-Zsa refused to take it off. Somehow that was fitting.

  The sound of a car coming down the lane set the dogs penned behind the fence to barking. They stopped at a sharp rebuke from the third-floor window. His mother must be getting dressed.