Taking a Chance on the Single Dad

by Sue MacKay

  ‘You’re home early.’

  She winced. ‘We’re still at Squamish.’

  ‘What’s up? You don’t usually call until you’re back in town. It’s quite late.’

  When would she learn she could never put one over Mum? ‘We came across an accident and it took a long time before the rescue team got here. But we’re on our way now. Any chance of dinner when I get back?’ She didn’t want to go back to her empty house. Not yet. Not while Hunter’s accusations about her taking risks were flapping around her skull, making her feel small and selfish.

  ‘It’s pasta.’

  Not even her least favourite food could stop her calling in. ‘Sounds great.’

  ‘Try again.’ Her mother laughed as they cut the connection.

  Over ravioli in homemade tomato mushroom sauce Brenna chatted about her shock at finding Geoff and what she and Ash suspected were his life-changing injuries. She tried to keep the conversation light, but Hunter’s words kept interrupting and making her sweat. In the end she put her fork down and eyeballed her mother. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve caused you worry. It’s just that I wanted to prove something to myself.’

  Mum placed her hand over hers. ‘That you are invincible.’

  Brenna gasped, then shook her head slowly. ‘Never could fool you about anything.’

  ‘Tell me something. Has this got anything to do with Hunter?’

  Oh, hell. But this was why she was here. Not to avoid her empty house—well, that too—but to talk about what was bugging her with this wonderful woman who’d love her no matter what, while at the same time giving her sound advice that might or might not offend her.

  ‘He told me I was thoughtless, didn’t care about my family and friends if I was prepared to take risks like I do. I disagree to a point. I am careful, take all proper measures not to have an accident, but after working with that man today I can see I might push things a little too far.’

  Mum fiddled with her fork, her eyes thoughtful. Then, ‘You don’t think you’re pushing yourself physically because you were, and still are, afraid to push for Hunter? That skiing down a steep slope is safer than connecting with a man who hurt you badly and might do it again if you give him half a chance?’

  Denial rushed to her support. ‘But I’ve been skiing, cycling, doing all those hair-raising things for years. Hunter only turned up a few weeks ago.’

  ‘Brenna, you can do better than that.’

  She pushed her chair back and stood up. Sat down again, reached for her glass of water. Hunter had never really left her. Even in the years when she’d truly believed she’d got over him he had been there, waiting in the wings. Nothing she’d done had stopped her loving him. It mightn’t have been obvious, but it’d been there all along.

  Instead of going after him with everything she had, she’d put her energies into sports, photography and other people, throwing herself at everything to prove she could bounce back, and no one need be worried about leaving her because she was a survivor, no matter what.

  ‘You’re right, Mum, I can.’

  But where to start?

  ‘Don’t rush this. You need to be one hundred per cent sure.’ More words of wisdom from the woman who’d always been there for her. ‘After six years a little longer won’t matter.’

  ‘You seem certain I want to get back with Hunter.’

  ‘Don’t you?’

  If he stays. If. ‘Yes.’ But she wasn’t going to rush this. Mum was right. She had to be absolutely certain first or she, and Hunter, would get hurt all over again.

  * * *

  Hunter picked up his phone and brought up Brenna’s number. His finger hovered over it, his mouth drying and his heart heavy.

  Just press the damn number.

  Dropping the phone on the bench, he filled a glass with iced water from his new, state-of-the-art fridge and glugged it down like a man who’d been in the desert for a week. Digging a garden was hot work.

  Three weeks into his new job at the hospital and Hunter felt as though he was finally getting into his stride. He had a routine going whereby he dropped Dylan off at Jess’s before seven and picked him up from preschool after he knocked off around three. They’d go home for biscuits and cold drinks before heading to the beach to play in the sand, and twice Dylan had gone into the water to splash around. Life was unfolding as he’d planned.

  Except for Bren.

  There were still stacks of cartons to unpack and furniture to buy, but apparently Rome hadn’t been built in a day either. He was happy in a quiet way and thrilled that every day Dylan got louder and happier. His boy was settling in, which was what the move had been about.

  It had not been about Brenna and falling back in love with her. If he’d ever stopped loving her in the first place. Which he now knew he hadn’t.

  But was he going to do anything about it?

  The fact he hadn’t heard from Brenna at all hurt. At first, he’d been angry to think she couldn’t find it in herself to enquire after Dylan’s health. Kevin must’ve said why he was not going back to work with them. Then he’d remembered he’d told Kevin someone in the family was sick and knew immediately Brenna would be thinking he’d done a bunk, gone back to his parents to help them out of another crisis.

  That really stank. Seemed she hadn’t heard a thing he’d said over the previous weeks. No, she’d have been watching and waiting for him to repeat his mistakes, more like, and was now probably congratulating herself on being so clever.

  ‘Dad.’ Dylan raced into the kitchen. ‘I want to see Poppy.’

  I want to see Poppy’s owner.

  ‘Sorry, Dylan, but I’ve told you we can’t. Poppy and Brenna are busy.’

  His face dropped. ‘They’re always busy.’

  ‘Want to go see the boys?’ Jess and Dave were having a family day at home and they were invited to drop in any time they liked. It might be good to shoot the breeze with his friends and forget everything Brenna.

  When Dylan raised his little fist in the air, he knew he’d avoided an argument.

  For how long, who knew, but he’d take whatever he could. Tapping him lightly with his own fist, he said, ‘You put some warm clothes in a bag, and I’ll grab some beers and chips.’ Sounding like a real pro, Dad. Well, it was a work in progress. Still a lot of learning to do. Like that would ever stop.

  His phone rang. His heart rate picked up. Bren? Air whooshed across his lips as he answered grumpily. ‘Hi, Mum.’

  This was good. He didn’t want to talk to Brenna. He wasn’t missing her. He didn’t love her. The phone started sliding from his fingers. Pardon? ‘Can you repeat that?’

  ‘I said Dad’s started playing bowls. Just as well he broke his left shoulder and not his right.’

  No, not that. The bit about how he didn’t love Brenna. ‘Mum, sorry, can I get back to you? I’ve got to go. Everything’s fine. Bye.’

  Twice in as many minutes he’d admitted he loved Bren. He’d loved her from the moment she’d walked into the emergency department and up to the bed where he had been trying to stem a patient’s critical blood loss. She’d looked directly at him and said in the sexiest voice he’d ever heard, ‘Hello, I’m Brenna Williamson, a doctor. Want some help?’ And he’d been a goner. Together they’d saved the man from bleeding out and had gone to the pub for a celebratory drink at the end of their shift. It had been the start of something amazing. Something he’d walked away from. But he hadn’t stopped loving her.

  Yet now you expect Bren to have the utmost confidence that you won’t do that to her again?

  ‘Come on, Dad, I’m ready.’

  ‘Give me a few minutes, will you? I’m not as fast as you.’ Should he promise Bren he was here for good? That nothing would entice him to leave again? Words weren’t easy, but they were simpler and quicker than the wait and I’ll show you strategy. Those were the only
choices and he’d go for both—if he was absolutely certain he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Brenna. No, that wasn’t the question. He already knew he did. But did she want him? The big unknown in all this. When they were making love or sharing a meal, he believed she did. But her lack of trust in him was a hurdle to overcome, if it even was surmountable.

  ‘Hurry up. I want to go now.’

  ‘Behave, or we won’t be going anywhere.’ Putting the six-pack of beer on the bench, Hunter stared out at the garden he’d been digging whenever he’d had a free moment over the last couple of weeks. It was going to be large, and hopefully productive. Pride swelled in his chest. This was working; he was making a go of getting a new life happening, everything he’d dreamed about for so long was beginning to take shape. He had to hang onto that, not let his relationship with Brenna wear him down. Damn but she frightened him with her devil-may-care attitude when it came to her physical safety. Why couldn’t she see that?

  If you want her to believe in you, you’ve got to give back.

  If she believed he would head east again for any reason, of course she’d play safe where her heart was concerned. He would.

  You already are. You’re not calling Bren and laying everything out there for her to see how much you want it to work between you.

  ‘Dad.’ Dylan stamped his foot. ‘Come on.’

  Since he’d been so distracted, Hunter let Dylan get away with that one. Picking up the beer, he ruffled his boy’s hair. ‘We’re outta here.’

  ‘Why doesn’t Poppy want to see me any more? I love her.’

  ‘She loves you too, buddy, but sometimes everyone gets very busy and there’s no time to visit.’ And sometimes people just had to take the raging bull by its horns and risk everything. ‘We’ll stop in and say hello on the way back from Jess’s.’

  ‘Yippee.’

  If only he could please everyone as easily.

  CHAPTER NINE

  BRENNA WHISKED THE softened butter to a cream, added vanilla and then icing sugar. She was probably about to make a fool of herself, but some things were worth the risk. She’d kept her word and spent days thinking about Hunter and their future, all the time knowing she had to talk to him and tell him everything about how she felt and apologise for the past.

  Icing sugar flew through the air, and she slowed the beating she was giving the icing enough to save most of it for the cake and not the walls.

  Poppy sat up on her haunches, watching every move, waiting expectantly.

  ‘I’m not giving you the whisk to lick, Pops.’ She’d have it herself. ‘But the good news is we’re going for a walk as soon as I’ve iced the cake.’ Around to Hunter’s house with her peace offering. Now the procrastinating was over, it was time to step up and lay her heart on the line. At least then she’d know for sure where her future lay.

  Banana cake with buttercream icing had been his favourite. She hoped it still was. Not that she believed a cake would win him over, but it might soften his stance when he remembered the other times she’d made it for him, and allow her to apologise for leaping to conclusions. Conclusions that might turn out to be right, but she’d finally realised she had to ask him, not blindly accuse him.

  She owed Geoff Carr. His cycling accident had brought her to her senses. That and her mother’s quiet way of putting everything into words that registered through the pain and confusion that had taken over her mind these past weeks. She didn’t need to throw herself down mountainsides to prove she could cope with anything. She’d survived her birth mother’s betrayal and her father’s death. She’d even made it past her and Hunter breaking up, maybe not in one piece but she was here, doing well as an emergency doctor and surrounded by family and friends.

  It was time to be realistic. That could’ve been her breaking her back the other day, or any of the days she’d skied, snowboarded, cycled or leapt out of planes. While not about to turn into a couch potato, she’d begun backing down on the need to throw herself at everything. It would break her mum’s heart if anything happened to her, and she couldn’t do that when Mum had accepted her as her own from the day Dad had introduced them. Neither did she want to hurt her sisters, or anyone else, or be beholden to whoever got the short straw and had to look after her if the worst happened.

  Hunter had been correct when he’d said she was selfish. But at the time it had been the only way she’d managed. With Dad gone from her mentally and her family trying to cope, there’d been no one to talk to about how much she loved Hunter despite him walking away.

  ‘Walkies.’ She rubbed Poppy’s head as she licked the whisk, trying to ignore the longing in her pet’s eyes. ‘You wouldn’t like buttercream icing.’

  Poppy sank onto her belly and dropped her jaw onto her front legs with a sigh as if to say, ‘Try me.’

  ‘I know, it’s your favourite treat.’ Or would be if she got half a chance.

  With the cake iced and put into a container that went into her backpack Brenna clipped Poppy’s lead to her collar and headed out the front door, glad to be doing something positive instead of mooching around the house.

  By the time they reached Hunter’s front path sweat was dripping down her face and pouring between her breasts. When spring had decided to come out of hiding it had done so with a vengeance. ‘I could do with some iced water, Poppy. Bet you want a drink too.’

  The house was all locked up. ‘So much for ice in my water.’ She found a hose lying in the back yard and turned on the tap for Poppy to lap at the water, then did the same for herself. Looking around the yard, she whistled.

  Poppy stood alert, watching her.

  ‘Down, girl. Look how much work Hunter’s done out here. The garden’s enormous, like he plans on feeding the whole street with his vegetables.’ He hadn’t been wasting any time getting it prepared. A lightness she hadn’t felt in a long time crept up on her. Hunter was serious about this move. Just as he’d told her. As she’d refused to accept. ‘I’ve been an idiot.’

  A cautious idiot looking after her own heart. Since that revealing conversation with her mum she’d spent days going over and over what Mum had advised, weighing up the consequences if it worked out—and if it didn’t. Every night as she lay in the dark, waiting for sleep to submerge her, she’d admit she had to give her and Hunter a chance. If, after six years, she still loved him, then what was there to lose? There was only one way to find out if he felt the same.

  Except he wasn’t home.

  Now what? She had a cake to deliver.

  Just as well she’d put ice packs in with it because now she placed the container and packs on the back step in the shade. No need for a note; not that she had a pen or anything to write on.

  Then she headed away, aiming for the beach where Poppy could chase her ball into the water and expend some of her energy.

  * * *

  ‘Poppy’s not home,’ Hunter told Dylan after calling out and ringing the doorbell three times. Damn it. Where were they? As if he had any right to demand an answer, but now he’d made up his mind to talk to her and lay his heart out for her he couldn’t stand having to wait.

  ‘Can I see Brenna?’

  ‘She’s not here either. They’ve gone out together.’ He ignored the ache behind his ribs. When he’d finally found the courage to visit and beg for forgiveness she had to go out. Like a punishment, except there was no way she’d have known he’d call round.

  ‘I want to go to the beach.’

  ‘Might as well.’ Better than returning home to mope around the house, wondering where Bren had gone.

  Pulling into the last vacant parking space at Kitsilano beach, Hunter hauled on the handbrake and got out to unclip Dylan’s seat belt.

  Dylan slid out and stepped onto the sand. ‘Poppy,’ he shrieked, and began running.

  ‘Dylan, come back here now.’ Hunter chased after him. ‘Stop. Now.’

>   ‘Poppy, Poppy, it’s me.’

  Hunter skidded to a stop, his eyes finally lifting off his son and following the direction in which Dylan was scampering. Poppy was barrelling towards them.

  Followed by Brenna, walking slowly with a cautious smile on her face.

  He owed Dylan for suggesting the beach. ‘Hi,’ he said as he closed the gap.

  ‘Hello to you too.’

  ‘We’ve just been to your house.’

  ‘Poppy and I went by your place.’

  They stared at each other.

  He tried breathing but it wasn’t easy with all the longing building up in his chest. Longing to love and be loved. To share their lives as they’d always meant to do. Hell, he loved this woman. Always had, always would. How could he have been so callous to call her out on her activities? She was right, they were her choice. Just as when he’d headed back to Kamloops to help his parents had been his. Whether they were right or wrong, it didn’t matter, though the consequences of his actions had mattered big time. ‘I’m sorry. For everything. Right back six years.’

  Bren stared at him, her eyes watering and her mouth softening. ‘So am I.’

  ‘You didn’t do anything wrong.’

  ‘Yes, I did. I could’ve followed you out to the Okanagan, finished my training in the hospital there, come home to visit Dad every second weekend.’ Brenna swiped her eyes with the back of a hand.

  ‘Don’t cry, Bren.’ He took a step towards her, his heart floundering. He’d lay the world at her feet if she’d have him back. ‘I wouldn’t have let you do that to your career. Or to your dad. It wouldn’t have been fair on anyone, and eventually it would’ve come between us.’ Would’ve caused irreparable damage.

  ‘None of it was fair.’ She took another swipe, but the tears kept coming. ‘I dug my heels in and stayed away, blaming you for everything.’