Margaret’s words ignited a protective feeling in him he preferred not to analyze.
“You’ll be all right? With Ian upstairs?”
“I’ll get my book from the living room.” She pointed down the hall. “And go up and try to read in my room. Go.” The last word was a plea.
Neal let himself out the way he and Anne had come in, glad for the cool brisk breeze that rustled the few leaves that hadn’t been removed from the manicured lawn. He hadn’t realized how warm the house had been. He came around the back side of the house. Anne’s dark blue dress stood out among the greens, browns and muted yellows of the lawn and the fading fall foliage by the pond. He paused and watched her for a moment. What did Margaret expect him to do, to say? He raised his face to the afternoon sun and closed his eyes.
“Lord, please guide me. Lend me Your wisdom to help Margaret and Anne. In Your goodness, relieve them of their pain as only You can.”
The sun moved behind a cloud, sending a chill through him. Not the answer he was looking for.
“I ask this in Your name. Amen.” He raised his head and hiked down to the pond.
Anne stood statute-still, staring out over the water. If she heard him approach, she gave no sign.
“Anne.” He broke the silence, his voice too loud, too rough to his ears.
“Margaret told you?”
He stepped closer. “She just said you were out here and might need someone to talk to.”
“Reenie and Rob named me as Ian’s guardian.” She breathed deeply as if needing fuel for her next word. “I didn’t know.”
From the look on her face, Anne felt as sucker-punched as he had when Autumn’s mother had told him she was pregnant.
“What am I going to do?” Her soft words hung between them.
He put his arm around her shoulder. “You’re going to be the best mother to Ian you can be.”
She shuddered and turned into his arms. “I can’t. I just can’t. I’m not ready. I don’t know how to be a parent.”
“No one is ever really ready.”
“Everything Ian is used to is here. His grandmother. His day care. Everything.”
He rubbed her back and held her to him. Her vulnerability touched his heart. “You’ll be fine. Ian will be fine.” In time, he added to himself.
“But I didn’t know.” She sobbed. “Reenie must have told me. Margaret thought I knew. I wasn’t a good enough friend to listen and hear something as important as that.” Her voice took on a bitter edge. “I was too wrapped up in myself. My new job. My new life.”
She pushed at him, but he continued to hold her, wanting to protect her from her grief and self-condemnation.
“You don’t understand. Can’t understand.” She spoke into his chest, muffling her words.
“Then tell me.”
“I’m not the person Reenie thought I was. I can’t be the mother Ian needs. Do you know why she and Rob chose me?” She raised her head, challenge radiating from her tear-filled eyes. “They wanted Ian to be raised in a good Christian home. Ha! I can’t even decide which church to attend.”
“Being a good Christian doesn’t hinge on which church you go to. Reenie could see into your heart. She knew you would treasure Ian just as she and Rob did. Teach him about our Lord as Reenie taught you.”
She dropped her head as if it were too much effort to keep her face lifted to him. “I’ll let them down.”
“God doesn’t give us more than we can handle.” He raised her chin with his finger and she grimaced.
How many people had told him that when Autumn was small? And he hadn’t believed them any more than Anne believed him.
“How can it be God’s will to rip Ian from everything he knows? I’ve gone over and over it in my head. I have to be missing something. Wasn’t it enough to take his parents from him? Or am I supposed to leave the college and come back here? I don’t think I can do it. Is that selfish? Does that make me a bad person?” Anne’s voice rose with each word.
Her anguish was too much for him. He did the only thing he could think of to comfort her. The thing he’d wanted to do since the thunderstorm. He leaned toward her and brushed her lips with his. She stiffened, then gave in, tilting her head back and placing her hands on his shoulders. He accepted the silent invitation, increasing the pressure and encircling her waist with his arms.
Soft. Sweet. It would be so easy to lose himself in the pleasure of having her near. The loud honking of a flock of geese overhead stopped him.
Neal stepped back, and she blinked at him as if trying to bring him into focus. He cleared his throat. “You’re not alone. You have friends to help you. Jamie, Emily, me.”
“You’d all do that?”
“Of course.”
Uneasiness followed his quick affirmation. He shouldn’t speak for the others, make promises he couldn’t keep. But he could help her with Ian without getting involved. Their kiss notwithstanding. It could be fun watching the little guy grow knowing he wasn’t his responsibility.
The sun moved out from behind the clouds, its bright rays emphasizing the tears drying on Anne’s cheeks. He resisted an urge wipe the last of them away with his thumb.
Her lips quivered. “You’re right. I have to think of Ian, honor Reenie and Rob’s wishes.”
Neal would have liked to see her a little more fired up. Reenie had entrusted Anne with her most important treasure. At least he thought of Autumn that way. Raising her hadn’t been easy. She’d certainly put him through the gauntlet and tried his patience in ways he couldn’t have ever imagined it could be tried. But there wasn’t a time since her birth that he didn’t want her with his whole heart.
Neal looked at Anne, so small and slight in the shadows of the towering willows surrounding the pond. His thoughts were unfair. In his heart, he couldn’t believe that Anne didn’t want Ian every bit as much.
She crossed her arms and squeezed herself as though she were cold. He returned his arm to her shoulder. “We should get back up to the house.”
Anne nodded and let him direct her away from the pond.
“I should call Mom. I mean, she’ll worry. I said we’d probably be back this evening.” He pressed his lips together before any more words blubbered out. “And I need to call a local car rental place for a car to drive back to Paradox tomorrow.”
“Maybe you should hold off calling about the car until tomorrow.”
His heart leaped. She wanted him to stay and drive back with her and Ian. He did a mental rundown of his work and school schedules for the rest of the week. Nothing he couldn’t rearrange work-wise.
“I can stay a few days, if you want me to.” She did want him to stay, didn’t she?
Her eyes clouded in question. “Oh, I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”
His shoulders slumped. He’d really misread that one.
“We should be able to leave tomorrow.”
Neal gazed down at Anne. An infantry division would be easier to move that fast than a three-year-old. “You can have Ian ready to go that quickly?”
He regretted his question as soon as it was out. She shot him a shattered look before she whirled and ran into the house.
* * *
Anne closed the door against the world and retreated into the room Margaret had given her for the night. She was sure she’d been like a zombie at dinner. But Margaret and Neal didn’t understand. They couldn’t understand. She didn’t know how to be a parent. Her parents were no example, and she hadn’t spent enough time with her grandmother, who was.
Michael had repeatedly told her she was more cut out for academics or business than for motherhood. Hadn’t her few disastrous outings with Michael’s children proven that?
Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she hoped the dull ache in her neck wasn’t a forewar
ning of a migraine. She hadn’t had one since she’d moved to Paradox and hadn’t brought her prescription with her. A baby picture of Ian on the wall made her swallow hard. Sure, she wanted children. But she’d assumed she’d have a helpmate who knew what he was doing. She lifted her overnight bag to the bed and took out her things.
Someone like Neal. She tried to shake that thought from her head. But her traitorous mind flashed to the kiss they’d shared by the pond. Rationally, she knew it was nothing except him trying to console her in the way that came easiest to men. But her heart had latched onto the possibility that it was a promise of more. Once again, she’d let her guard down, as it was so easy to do with Neal. Somehow, he made her feel safe sharing her inner self, even though she knew the consequences of letting anyone see a crack in her armor.
Neal was a friend, like Jamie, nothing more. That’s all he’d ever be. For so many reasons. And especially now that she had Ian. Emily had said Neal was adamant about not having any more children. She snapped the bag and her heart shut.
But her doubts still plagued her. What were Reenie and Rob thinking, choosing her as Ian’s guardian? Not only was she not parent material, she wasn’t even sure she knew how to be a good Christian. If she were, wouldn’t she be able to talk with God and receive answers? All she got was more questions.
She put her case at the end of the bed, crawled under the covers and squeezed her eyes shut. Neal was right, she needed to ignore the doubts and questions and put herself in God’s hands.
“Lord.” Anne spoke aloud into the darkness. “Help me trust Your timing and be obedient to Your calling for my life.”
She stopped and lay perfectly still waiting for something. Anything. When nothing came, her mind replayed the past two days over and over like a fast-forward of a bad movie. Everything the lawyer had said. Everything Margaret had said in words and implication. Everything Neal had said. The words tumbled around her head until she shut them out and made herself think analytically.
She weighed moving back to the Boston area against bringing Ian to Paradox Lake. The house wasn’t baby-proof, as if she knew what baby-proofed was. She tried to picture Ian playing on the floor of her office at the college, at the day care center where Jamie took Opal. Nothing felt right. What wasn’t she factoring in? If Reenie were here, she’d say Anne was trying too hard, like she did with everything. But Reenie wasn’t here. She’d never be able to call on her for guidance again.
Chapter Eleven
The honking of more migrating geese on the pond woke her from the sleep that had finally come in the early hours of the morning. Sleep that had come only after she’d made a decision. Lulled by the dimly lit room, Anne assumed it was still early until she looked at the alarm clock. Ten o’clock. She hadn’t slept this late since college. She rolled out of bed and pulled the curtain aside. A gray dismal New England morning greeted her. She shook off the gloom, dressed and went downstairs. The low rumble of Neal’s voice and the smell of coffee drew her to the kitchen.
“Good morning, sleepy-head.” Neal turned from the sink where Ian stood on a step stool beside him.
The rightness of the picture they made sent a ripple of apprehension through her.
“Seepy-head.” Ian echoed. “I washing dishes.” He lifted a blue plastic cup covered in bubbles.
“So I see. Do you have a coffee cup for me?”
Ian poured the water from the cup into the sink. “Nope.”
“Here you go.” Neal handed her a mug and spoon from the dishwasher.
“Thanks.” She made a cup of coffee in Margaret’s gourmet single-cup coffee brewer, carried it across the room and added exactly a half teaspoon of sugar from the bowl on the table. “Where’s Margaret?”
Neal guided Ian’s hand and another cupful of water back over the sink. “Doctor’s appointment.”
“She should have said something yesterday. I would have driven her.”
“Maria, her housekeeper, drove her.”
“Good. I know Maria. She’s been with Margaret a long time, since Reenie and I were in college.”
“Ria and Ian make cookies.” The toddler climbed down and pushed the stool toward the other end of the counter.
“Whoa, buddy. What’s up?”
“Cookies.” He pointed at a ceramic Pooh Bear. “For Nee Nee.”
Anne checked Neal’s expression before she nodded. Her first inclination had been to say no. As a child, she’d only gotten treats when her parents judged she’d earned them. Neal’s indulgent half smile changed her mind and bolstered her confidence that she’d made the right decision.
“Okay. I’ll get some cookies for Aunt Annie and you.”
“Nal, too.”
“Me, too.” Neal lifted Pooh’s head and pulled out three cookies. “In your seat, buddy.” He handed the cookies to Anne on a napkin and put Ian in his booster seat. Anne and Neal sat beside him.
Anne handed a cookie to Ian and Neal.
“Thanks.”
“Tanks.” Ian bit into the treat and grinned his mother’s grin, crumbs falling to the table in front of him.
Anne dropped her gaze and took a big swig of her coffee to quell the sadness and longing inside her.
“Hello.” A bright voice pulled her from her self-absorbed gloom.
Margaret’s neighbor’s daughter, Jessica, breezed into the kitchen. “Is Ian all ready for story hour?”
Neal used the napkin to wipe the cookie crumbs from Ian’s face and hands, slipped his plastic smock off and rolled down his shirtsleeves. “All set.” He lifted the toddler to the floor.
Jessica took Ian’s hand.
“Wait.” Anne’s strident tone stopped the duo in their tracks. “Who’s driving?”
The teen’s forehead wrinkled. “Mom. Why?”
Neal gave Anne an understanding smile.
“Nothing. Never mind. You guys have a good time.”
Jessica stepped forward, but Ian stayed rooted where he was.
“Come on Nee Nee and Nal.” He waved his hand toward the door.
Anne went over and kneeled next to Ian. “Aunt Annie and Neal can’t come today. You go ahead with Jessica. We’ll be here when you get back.”
Ian cocked his head to the side and looked from Anne to Neal. “Gammy, too?”
“Yes, Grandma will be here when you get back,” Neal assured him. “Remember, she said she’d come right home from her doctor’s appointment.”
The little guy’s fear wrapped itself around Anne’s heart and squeezed. A sign that she’d made the right decision?
“We’re going to play with Play-Doh today,” Jessica coaxed.
“Play-Doh?” Bright-eyed, he looked from Jessica to Anne and Neal for confirmation.
“Play-Doh’s cool stuff,” Neal said.
“Okay.”
“Give me a hug.” Anne opened her arms. Ian threw himself at her, planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek and pulled away before she was ready to let him go.
“Bye, bye.” He waved and pulled Jessica toward the door.
Anne and Neal waved back.
“Ditched for Play-Doh.” She accepted the hand Neal offered to help her up.
“Pretty tough competition if you ask me.”
Anne swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to match Neal’s teasing tone. “But I hate coming in second. I like to win. Remember Science Olympiad?”
“Only too well.” Neal laughed, but his laugh had a hollow ring to it that left her feeling she somehow didn’t measure up. She shook it off. Neal wasn’t judgmental like Michael had been.
“Did Margaret say when she’ll be back?”
“In an hour or so.”
“I’m going to warm up my coffee.” She retrieved her cup and carried it to the coffee brewer. “Want to join me?”<
br />
“No, thanks.” He leaned against the counter. “Before Margaret left, she said that Jessica and Maria had boxed Ian’s clothes and toys and brought them here so you and she wouldn’t have to go to Reenie and Rob’s house.”
The house that Reenie was restoring, that she was so proud of. Anne’s hand shook as she lifted the cup from the coffee brewer. Margaret had done so much, seemed so in control despite her grief. Now she could do something in return for Margaret and Ian.
She walked to the table.
“If you want, I can start loading Ian’s things in the car. It’ll give you more time with Margaret and to get Ian ready to go.”
“You don’t have to.” She took a sip of the hot black liquid to fortify herself. “I was going to wait until Margaret got back and tell both of you together.”
“What’s up?”
“Last night when I went upstairs, I prayed like you said.” She searched his face for approval. “At first, I didn’t get any answer. Then, in the middle of the night I realized what I need to do.”
Neal’s lips thinned as if he suspected she was going to say something he wouldn’t like. But it wasn’t his decision. Wasn’t for him to like or dislike.
She wiped her free hand against her jeans. “To do about Ian. And Margaret. Helping Ian adjust. To the changes, to everything.” She was babbling. She didn’t babble. She faced a classroom of college students every day, had lectured halls filled with engineers and scientists at conferences, and never stuttered a word. But for some reason, she couldn’t get the words out to tell Neal her plan.
Anne placed the coffee mug on the table so Neal wouldn’t see her hand tremble. She should have waited for Margaret to return.
“I weighed all of the factors and the best solution I could come up with is to hire a nanny to help Margaret so Ian can stay here. I’m sure Margaret will agree.”
“The best solution,” Neal repeated. “This isn’t some kind of mathematical equation. It’s a little boy’s life.”
“Don’t make me sound so cold. I’m not horrible. I thought about everything and everyone.”
“No, I don’t think you’re horrible. I think you’re overwhelmed and scared. And you did what’s easiest for you. Let money take care of it.”
Small-Town Dad Page 11
