Like Father Like Son

by Lennon, Leigh

  Flipping my hair over my shoulder, I’m at a loss for what to say. I finally grab his hand, because he’s turning redder and redder by the minute. “You know what, I’m flattered you think I’m pretty.”

  He laughs and I cock my head to the side. “Ah, shit, Holland, pretty doesn’t even come close. If I cut out the freak factor, think we could be friends?”

  Putting out my hand, he shakes it. “Yeah, I’d like that, Jase.”

  For the rest of the night, we watch Teagan and Josh out on the floor, taking it over with all their dances. We talk and talk and talk. It’s healing being able to think of anything other than being a widow at twenty-one.

  Teagan leaves with some long-legged platinum blonde. Josh goes with Teagan’s girl’s best friend.

  “Well, I guess it’s just us,” I start when Jase loads into Maguire’s truck, the Sarge insisted I drive tonight.

  We’re quiet on the way home and when I’m about to pass my turn to take Jase to his house, he starts, “Just go home. I don’t want you going out of your way. It’s still nice enough for me to walk home and I didn’t get a workout today.”

  When we stop and say our goodbyes, I turn to Maguire’s house. I wonder if he’s still up or what he’s doing. Is he watching sports? Twisting my head, I first see her sedan and then watch the skank on the couch next to Maguire. It’s Kat. Why do I hate her so much? Yeah, I know. She gets Maguire when I can’t. It makes me irrationally mad. I want to walk in and mess with their night. But then again, he deserves companionship and happiness. I tamp down my jealousy and open the garage door leading to my new home.

  In front of the bay window, I can see Maguire’s house. Through the sliding door, I can tell he has his arm around Kat as she cuddles into him. I hate that I can see this—or—that I’m even watching them. At twenty-one, I’m falling in love with my husband’s father. What’s wrong with me?

  Maguire is in my bed, rubbing my stomach, talking to the baby. I’m naked. His other hand is on my nipple. My fingers run through his hair. I’m smiling—I’ve never been so turned on. When his head turns to me, I can’t hold back. “Make love to me, Maguire. I. Need. You.”

  His eyes are hooded, and his erection is hard against my body as he shifts around me. “Need me to take care of this for you, Sarge?” I croon.

  He smacks my rear playfully. “Don’t tease me like that, darlin’. You’ll get punished.” Oh, how I want him to put me over his knee. Did I just think this? I laugh when his mouth crashes against mine.

  My eyes open briefly to an empty room before I catapult out of bed so freaking fast. I look around to get my bearings when I realize I just had the hottest and most forbidden dream about my father-in-law.

  Chapter 22

  It’s lonely ever since Holland moved into her apartment. I’m making my eggs when a text comes through. Flipping them and reading the text at the same time, I feel a pull at my lips, smiling at the name appearing on my screen.

  Darlin’: I forgot. I have my first appointment today with my OB. I’ll see you later at work.

  This girl will not let me buy her a suitable car. She insists on driving Scott’s truck until the life insurance money comes in.

  Me: If you’re driving to Redding, take my truck. I’ll drive Scott’s.

  Darlin’: I’m fine in Scott’s truck.

  No, she’s not. I’ve seen her drive a stick shift.

  Me: HOLLAND

  I don’t have to look at my phone to know her response.

  Darlin’: MAGUIRE

  I’m out the door in just my running shorts as I’d taken my sweaty shirt off the second I got home from my run and it’s chilly out. I’m up the stairs and knocking on her door as a second text comes through.

  Darlin’: If you are at my door, you’re shit out of luck. I’m not answering. Anyway, I’m getting in the shower.

  Grabbing for the key I left above the door, I let myself in, swiping the keys she has on the table and replacing them with my own.

  I’m on my way to work when I get a text. I’m smiling knowing her response will be priceless.

  Darlin’: That’s it, I’m getting my locks changed, you asshole.

  I pull over to respond, because—well, I just have to.

  Me: I heard your landlord is quite the dick, I doubt he’ll authorize it.

  I’m about to put the truck in drive and pull out when a return text has me chuckling.

  Darlin’: You have no idea. The guy drives me bonkers. And he’s sort of a control freak.

  When it comes to her, she has no idea.

  I’m at my desk when a knock on the door grabs my attention away from my new design. For years, I’ve been asked to make a crib. Now, I have the right incentive. Taking one last look at the sketch in front of me, I glance up to stare at the dark chocolate brown eyes of Holland.

  “Hey, darlin’, was just getting ready to call you.” Yeah, I’ve been worried about her. Redding is a good half an hour away and Holland’s a horrible driver.

  “Yeah, well, I’m here. I had to run to Target since I was in a city with one, finally. But I’ll get with Diane to make up my time.”

  Shit, I don’t care about her time but to be fair to my other employees, I don’t say anything.

  “I have something for you,” she says. I look up, and I match the broad grin forming on her face.

  In front of my desk, she’s wearing a tighter outfit than she usually wears. Against the fabric of her bright purple shirt is the slightest swell in her stomach. I move my eyes to her face and notice more of her is getting bigger in certain places. I don’t stay focused on her breasts but hell, they are there for my viewing pleasure. Shit, I’m a sick fuck.

  She hands me over a black and white picture. It takes a second for my eyes to focus in on the words, “Hi, Gramps,” with a little arrow pointing to a small bean looking image.

  “Is this my grandbaby?” I question, standing and moving around the desk to be near her.

  “Yes, Gramps, this is your grandbaby.” I don’t pull her; I envelop her into me. Today’s scent is orange cinnamon. I bury my face in her neck. Anyone from the office staff could look up at any time and see us through the glass that serves as my walls. I’m sure they’re looking intently. But this is my grandchild, Scott’s little kid. I’m overly emotional now that I’m holding proof in my hands he’ll be living within this child.

  “Shit, darlin’.” I wipe a rogue tear from the corner of my eye. “I’m so…” What am I? Happy? Sad? Excited? A little of everything. “I mean, I believed you before, but now, I’m holding part of Scott in my hands.”

  “I know, right? I’m unable to express how I feel. How I love this baby so much. I’m right at twelve weeks. Which means I’ve passed the first trimester. It’s a little overwhelming.” She brings a shaky hand to her forehead as she blows a stray strand of hair from her eyes.

  I stare down at my design, knowing I’ll be finishing my grandchild’s crib very soon.

  An hour later, Ned walks into my office, no knock. It’s how we’ve always operated. “Maguire, got a second?”

  I’m to the point with the crib mock-up with measurements and a prototype on the drawing board. Ned stops in front of the picture of the crib, taking it in and then looks back at me. “I never thought you wanted to work toward a baby line in the past.”

  I’m standing in front of it. I want more for this crib, or at least for the crib that will sleep my precious little one. “Yeah, never had a reason to fiddle with one, until now.”

  He narrows his eyes at me. “Something you want to tell me. Is Kat…”

  “Oh, fuck no.” I walk around the large portable sketch pad in my room, putting the finishing touches on it. “But I still have a reason to build a crib.”

  “Holland?” His question is brief.

  I nod. “Yeah, but she’s not ready to tell anyone yet, so, if we can keep it between us. I can’t imagine it’ll be long before she has no choice—sh
e’s starting to show.” Especially her boobs. I don’t share this last part with my friend though. I try to force away these thoughts to anything but how she fills out her shirt.

  “Well, that would explain the intimate embrace I saw you two in earlier.” Yep, I know workplace gossip spreads like wildfire with an accelerant. “Is there something going on I should know about?” His hands are on his hips like he’s a father scolding me.

  I can answer his question honestly because nothing is. “Ned, we’re close because Scottie asked me to watch over her. She’s a great kid—a kid and my son’s widow is all she is. I became overly emotional when she showed me the ultrasound. I mean, nothing can replace Scott, but it sure feels fucking fantastic to know he’ll live on in his child.” I rub the back of my neck, this conversation has me sweating, my armpits require new deodorant.

  “Does Christine know?”

  “Thanks, old friend, for reminding me I need to reach out to the devil with Holland now past her first trimester.”

  He chuckles, he knows Christine almost as well as I do. Hell, he had to pick me up off the floor at the hole in the wall bar the night she took Scottie from me—after my tattoo while I cried into every beer I drank.

  His eyes wander to the new prototype of the crib when he continues, “Christine is going to be the most invasive grandparent ever. Think Holland’s up for it?”

  My thoughts are still on Christine and the conversation which I’m sure will turn into a blame game. I don’t think of my response when I almost gush over Holland. “She’s a strong girl. I think she could handle the world if it came between her and her child.”

  Ned raises his one eyebrow a bit higher. He doesn’t challenge me, and I don’t volunteer any more information.

  It’s the weekend. Doesn’t Maguire know this? My text alerts keep on going off with his particular ring tone. After ten texts, I lean over the nightstand, snatching it up and dial his number at eight in the morning.

  “Is there a comet threatening to end the earth, Maguire Parrish?” I bite out.

  “Could you be a little less dramatic this morning?” His tone is playful, a pitch or two higher than it is typically.

  “And it’s for this very reason—it being the morning that I’m very dramatic,” I reply, my eyes still closed.

  “The day is wasting. Get out of bed. I have errands to run. It’s better with company.”

  Ah, he wants me with him. Why does this brighten my day and warm my cheeks—and all the other things he affects—that he really shouldn’t?

  “Give me an hour.”

  “Make it half an hour and I will take you to breakfast.”

  I stretch out a little more in the hope it will wake me up. “You know the way to a pregnant woman’s heart, don’t you?”

  I’m finishing the last bite of my pancakes when out of the blue, he begins, “I need to confess something.” I notice a little of his I’m guilty as sin look crawling all over his face. It’s easy to tell at this point with seeing him every single day.

  “Oh, this will be good,” I retort.

  “Yeah, well, there’s a reason I wanted to bring you out this weekend.”

  I’m staring at him when a small smirk pulls at the corner of my lips. “You mean, feeding your pregnant daughter-in-law isn’t on the top of your list today—shame on you.”

  “Well, taking care of you, darlin’, is always at the height of my priorities. As a matter of fact, one of the reasons I wanted to take you out,” he pauses, taking another bite of his hash browns. “I thought we could start looking at a safer vehicle for you and the baby. You can’t put a baby in the cab of Scottie’s old truck. It’s not safe.”

  I knew this was coming. He’d only dropped a million clues in the past couple of weeks. “Yeah, I understand this, but the baby isn’t popping out of me tomorrow. I have some time. I haven’t gotten Scott’s life insurance yet so—I’m waiting.”

  “Then let’s look. Okay? Just work with me.”

  What can I say to the man whose mission it’s been to care for me? “Sure, we can look, but just look.”

  A smile appears on his face and I’m lighter than I’ve been in months. With our eyes locked on one another, I’m full of hope for what my future holds.

  There are five SUVs and one minivan pulled up to the front of the building on the lot. When Maguire exits his truck, he’s almost attacked.

  “Maguire Parrish, it’s so good to see your ugly mug.” He bro-hugs this man in front of us. So it’s right then, I realize it’s not a casual walk through of potential cars. Maguire plans to buy me a vehicle today.

  He turns to me, pointing my way. “This is Scottie’s wife.”

  The man in his late fifties comes at me and holds his hand out. “Mrs. Parrish, I was so sad to learn of your husband’s passing. Thank you so much for your sacrifice.” I hate this when people say these words to me. I know they mean well, but my sacrifice? It makes it sound as if I gave permission for Scott to be killed at an early age. Sure as hell I hadn’t. But I give him a little nod and thank him.

  “Okay, missy, let’s get you into a new car. I hear congrats are in order for you.” He puts his arm around my shoulders, leading me to the various vehicles parked around the dealership. “Now, I don’t think you’ve given any thought to a minivan, but I want you to have all the information.”

  I turn my head back to Maguire, who’s smiling at this turn of events. I take my free hand, flipping him off. “You are in trouble, asswipe,” I mouth and he only grins and waves at me. This man Maguire took me to is an out and out salesman, and I have a feeling I’m leaving with a freakin’ new vehicle.

  I’m following Maguire up the road in my brand-new Honda Pilot ready to spit bullets at him. When I told the salesman I’d fill out the paperwork for a loan, he only laughed. “Your car has been paid off already.” I signed a couple of documents, and we were done. I wanted to yell at Maguire. I already owe him so much money from the trip.

  When I get out of the car, we’re not alone. Ned and Elise are in his house. “You think if you have company, I won’t tear into you.”

  He cocks his head to the side. “Well, I won’t lie, maybe a little. But first, let me tell you, I used some of the money I set aside for Scott to buy your car. It was Scottie’s money. I still have some for the baby. It’s a brand-new car, and I know you’ll be safe. Please stop being so proud and take it, knowing Scott would want you to have it.”

  I wonder in my head how much money he’d set aside for Scott. The SUV was close to forty thousand with all the upgrades Maguire had insisted on. “Are you sure you have an account, and you’re just not telling me this to make me feel better about it?”

  He laughs, a belly laugh. “Sure, that’s something I would have done to get you into a safer car, but I swear I started this when he was six. I’ll show you all the statements. But there’s still close to forty thousand for the baby, after the new car. I promise I’m not making it up.”

  Looking at my safe and brand-new silver SUV, I finally say the one thing I’ve not had a chance to articulate. “Thank you, Maguire. I know you’re making your son very proud of the father you have been to him, even now that he’s gone.”

  He stops, a tear falling down his face. Maguire is so hard on himself when it comes to Scott. He doesn’t think he was the father Scott deserved but even with the many miles between them, he was the best father Scott could have ever asked for.

  I leave Maguire outside to collect himself as I open the door to his house. Elise and Ned are at the table with a bottle of wine open. “Sorry, honey, none for you.” I haven’t told her yet that I’m pregnant. She stands, coming at me, her hands opened. “Oh, sweetie, I’m going to spoil the hell out of your baby.” She cups my face in both of her hands. “I’m so happy for you.”

  Elise has stolen my heart. She always knows what to say. “Thanks, Elise.” I stare at the wine, wishing for one second that I could drink it. But this baby inside of
me is so much more important.

  Ned stands, looking out the window. “I see he got his way, got you a car.”

  “Well, that’s the reason you’re here, right? Maguire thinks having witnesses, I won’t kill him.”

  Elise’s loud pitch laugh startles me for a second. “Maguire getting his way, tell me it’s not so.”

  It’s then Maguire walks into the house and stops, all of us looking at him.

  “What?” he asks and it’s apparent we’re talking about him.

  “Oh, Elise has got your number, that’s for sure,” I add.

  “Yeah, I’m sure she does, but don’t believe a word she says about me. She’s a terrible liar.”

  I’m shocked when the prim and proper Elise Landon flips Maguire off and we all erupt in laughter.

  Chapter 23

  It’s hard to believe Christmas is a week away. It’s not improbable to get snow, but the weather has been hotter for December. I’m looking at the inventory for the new cribs which go to production after Christmas break. My crew is excited about this new line, I’ve drawn up plans for matching rocking chairs next. The lead carpenter is in my office, rechecking the designs.

  “The dresser drawers/changing table combo is beautiful, too. Can we start on these afterward?” My mind isn’t on what John asks me, it’s on the baby and his or her mother. Speaking of Holland, I’ve not seen her today.

  “Maguire, you hear me, man?”

  I look over the table to John.

  “Ah, shit, sorry, I’m in my own world. Yeah, get with Jolene. Have her gauge interest. I’ll sign off on it if we get eight pre-orders.” We rarely do pre-orders, except for sets, and with the nursery edition, we’ll market it as a full set.

  “Good to know. You did it again—it’s going to exceed our expectations.” John beams with pride.