“I like reading a lot. But math is fun.”
“Good.” He struggled with something else to say. “What else do you like to do?”
“I play with dolls.” She took a sip of water.
“Okay.” He should have expected that. But why would he? What he knew about kids, especially girls, would fit on the head of a pin. “What else?”
“Mom, Grammy and I go get pedicures together sometimes. I like that.”
Nope, that wasn’t in his wheelhouse either. In the shared interests category he was 0 for 2. “That sounds fun.”
“It is. I get to pick out any color I want, even if it hurts Mommy’s eyes.”
Sounding better. “What hurts her eyes?”
“‘Gargantuan Green.’ It looks like slime.”
“Wow.” He was so out of his depth. Now what? Women liked compliments. She wasn’t a woman yet but saying something nice had to be good, right? “Your hair looks nice like that.”
“Thank you,” she answered politely. “It’s a French braid. Mommy did it like this because I wanted to look my best to meet you.”
So, Emma was nervous about this, too. He should have guessed that. “Well, it worked. You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” She smiled shyly. “Are you all grown up now?”
That one was from left field, but he could go with it. “I suppose so. Why do you ask?”
“Well...” She was thoughtful. “I didn’t think Grammy liked you but she said it wasn’t that. You just had a lot of growing up to do in the army.”
He couldn’t say Pam was wrong, except the part about not liking him. She hated his guts, but was clearly an important part of this child’s life. Keeping that in mind was a good thing to do. “I did have to grow up. But I really wish I’d known about you.”
“Yeah.” She looked wistful. “Mommy said you had to go away and she thought it would be easier if you didn’t have to worry about things at home.”
Emma went on about Buster the dog and her friend who worried about him when she was gone. Luke was fuming because Shelby made herself sound like Mother Teresa. The bottom line was that she should have told him she was having his baby. For her own selfish reasons she’d kept that information from him. It was a betrayal, pure and simple.
“Are you hungry now?” he asked.
“Yes.” That was decisive.
“I have peanut butter and jelly.” All kids liked that, right?
“Mommy told me to make sure I tell you that I’m allergic to peanuts,” she said.
“Well, damn—I mean darn. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Mommy says it sometimes, too.”
She hadn’t years ago. But back to his current problem. “What happens when you eat peanuts?”
“I get hives.”
“Okay, then. No peanut butter.” He went through his small inventory of food on hand: beer, frozen chicken wings, jalapeño poppers. Guy food. No fruit. Nothing healthy.
“So, what kind of food are you not allergic to?”
She got a gleam in her eyes that had mischief written all over it. “Chicken nuggets and French fries. And soda.”
A little schemer. Was it wrong to admire her cleverness at the same time he disapproved of her being devious? A question for another time. “Okay, then, we’ll go get some.”
“Mommy won’t like it,” she warned.
Welcome to his world, he thought. There was a whole lot he didn’t like. “I’ll handle your mom.”
In fact going toe-to-toe with Shelby over this might give him a little bit of payback satisfaction. He just hoped the next time they were face-to-face the urge to kiss her would be gone.
Chapter Three
Less than twenty-four hours after Emma’s first visit with her father Shelby was at work and preoccupied with the consequences. Luke was all her daughter could talk about. He got her fast food and soda and Shelby was the Wicked Witch of the West who made her go to bed at—gasp—bedtime. Now she was having lunch in the teachers’ lounge. She didn’t feel very social or have much of an appetite but her colleagues at the other tables were wolfing down food and chattering away.
“Hey, Richards. What’s up?” Brett Kamp took the chair beside hers at the otherwise empty table. He was the chairman of the math department at the high school, her boss and her friend.
“Hi.” She pulled her ham on whole grain sandwich out of the ziplock bag and took a bite. It tasted like chalk.
Brett had a tuna on rye, an apple and a small individual bag of chips arranged neatly in front of him, like the components of a complicated equation. His sandwich was cut diagonally. Two triangles. And she would bet they were isosceles—with two sides of equal length. Nerds of a feather and all that.
He started eating and after swallowing a bite said, “How was your weekend?”
Nuclear Armageddon and how was yours? she wanted to say. Instead she opted for, “I’ve had better.”
“Something up with Emma?”
“She’s fine.”
If you didn’t count the fact that she thought her father was the coolest thing since soccer shin guards. What kid wouldn’t when they got their dream junk food meal for lunch and a brand-new soccer ball? Of course he was using retail bribery and her favorite fast food to buy his daughter’s affection. Shelby understood that on some level. But did he know the calorie and fat content of that stuff? It wasn’t good for Emma. Did he think about that?
Probably not. But look at him. She had trouble not staring and there might be a little drooling involved. His shoulders were broad. His stomach was flat. There was probably a six-pack underneath that army strong T-shirt. And his legs looked muscular and strong. His body was in excellent shape and he’d filled out fantastically since he left. Just thinking about him made her warm.
“You okay, Shel?”
She glanced at Brett who had a questioning expression on his face. He was divorced. A nice-looking man in his thirties, trim and not as tall or exciting as Luke. And since when did she compare men to the guy who broke her heart?
“Hmm?”
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“No. Why?”
“You’re quiet today.”
“It’s all good.” She took a big bite of her sandwich to prove it. “What’s up with you?”
“I’ve found a volunteer to tutor in the math department,” he said.
“Great. Who?”
“A friend of mine from high school, even though we always competed for math glory back then. Gabriel Blackburne. He’s a business guy. Turns around underperforming companies. After working all over the country he’s back in Huntington Hills to help his aunt turn around the matchmaking business she bought.”
Shelby let him natter on, grateful she didn’t have to contribute to the conversation. Then she realized he’d stopped talking and was staring at her.
“What?”
“Something is wrong. Don’t deny it. I’ve known you for quite a while now and math people learn to look for patterns. Quiet and distracted isn’t yours. So give it up. What’s bothering you?” He must have seen something in her face because he added, “We’re friends. Don’t tell me it’s nothing.”
She blew out a long breath. “Okay. Maybe it would help to talk.”
“Can’t hurt.”
“This could. But a different perspective might be helpful. You’re a guy.”
“Yeah.” His eyes narrowed nervously. “Why is that relevant?”
“I have a hypothetical question for you.”
“I already don’t like this conversation.” He held up a hand when she started to protest. “It was my idea. Shoot.”
She could see him bracing for it. “How would you feel if a woman had your baby and didn’t tell you?”
His eyes widened. Clearly the question was not what he’d expected
. “I’d want to know more details. About why she kept that information from me.”
“Just answer the question.”
“Okay.” He thought for a moment. “I guess the guy’s reaction would depend on his circumstances when he found out.”
That surprised Shelby. She was sure he would go with male outrage about being kept in the dark. “What circumstances would those be?”
“Well, I’m divorced and don’t have kids. So I fall on the single scale now. But there was a time when I was happily married. If I’d found out that I had a child my reaction would be different.”
“How so?”
“A happily married man is committed to his wife, and children if there are any. He’d be protective of them. He would go straight on the offensive, in terms of what does this person want from him?”
“What if it wasn’t the woman’s idea to tell him?” Emma had taken that decision out of Shelby’s hands.
Brett shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. All he’s thinking about is his family unit being attacked.”
“And if the guy isn’t married?” Luke was apparently single. And now she was the one bracing herself.
“In that case he would be better able to respond in a selfless way. There wouldn’t be the distraction of a wife. And if he was divorced with kids, the unit is already fractured. The revelation of a child isn’t going to damage a relationship that’s already broken beyond repair. He’s committed to the kids he already has and it would be his job to help them be inclusive of another one.”
“He doesn’t have a wife or kids,” she said absently.
“Shel, what’s going on? This must be about Emma’s father.” His blue eyes brimmed with sympathy and curiosity. “You never talked about him and I didn’t ask. It’s none of my business. But you’re obviously going through something now. Maybe I can help.”
She put her sandwich down and met his gaze. “I was seventeen and had been forbidden to see him. Luke McCoy. He lived next door and was a rebel.”
“Yeah. I know the type,” he said.
“My mother didn’t like him.”
He winced. “You know as well as I do that just makes the situation even more tempting to a teenager.”
“Yeah. A temptation I couldn’t resist.” The feelings had been so big. Even now when she looked at him she could remember them. “That was the only time I disobeyed my mother. It didn’t go well.”
He nodded. “We see that here every day. Kids hook up, break up and it’s the end of the world,” he said. “From our perspective as adults, we know life does go on.”
“And for me it went on as a pregnant teenager who had to finish high school.” She couldn’t quite meet his gaze for this part. “He broke up with me. Right after that I found out I was pregnant and told my mother right away. I was scared and she was all I had. She made me promise not to tell him because she believed that he would ruin my life. I kept that promise—until Luke contacted me and wanted to talk.”
“What happened?”
“I made up my mind I was going to tell him. Disobey my mother again. But before I could he said he’d joined the army.”
“So you kept quiet,” Brett guessed.
Shelby nodded. “And he left not knowing the truth.”
“So why is it an issue now?”
“He’s back. Next door. His mother moved to Phoenix and he has to fix up her house to get it ready to sell.”
“I see.”
“The timing is interesting in a way. Naively I’d hoped Emma wouldn’t start asking questions about her father. But she has been.”
Brett took a chip from the small bag and chewed it thoughtfully. “There are people who believe men have a right to know about their offspring. That it’s the moral and decent thing to do.”
“So you think I’m immoral and indecent?”
“Not what I said, Richards.” He met her gaze. “Some men don’t want to know. They don’t want the emotional or financial responsibility. In those cases the woman has to go after him for child support.”
“I never wanted anything. When I didn’t tell him I knew she’d be mine alone to take care of in every way.” But something in his tone made her ask, “Would you want to know?”
“Yes,” he said immediately.
“So you’re saying I should have told him?”
“Does it matter what I think?”
“No. The damage is already done.” She explained to him about Emma overhearing, then marching next door to confront Luke.
Brett whistled in surprise. “Gotta love that kid. She meets life head-on.”
“I know. Luke is like that. And it made his teenage years—” She thought a moment, searching for the right word. “Turbulent. I’m not looking forward to that stage with Emma.”
“So, look on the bright side.”
She shook her head. “I’m not seeing one right now.”
“You’re so glass half-empty, Richards.” He smiled. “Now that she knows about him and he wants to be in her life, you have someone else to help you parent her. A man’s perspective. Or should I say, a father’s perspective.”
She smiled for the first time. “Well aren’t you the glass half-full guy today.”
“That’s me. Rainbows and unicorns.”
“Ha. Unicorns are a myth. And rainbows are caused by refraction and dispersion of light in water droplets making a spectrum of—”
“What a buzzkill you are.” He laughed. “No wonder I’m the favorite math teacher at Huntington Hills High School.”
“Numbers are easy. You can count on them. No pun intended. But life is hard.”
And currently hers was impossible. How could she co-parent when Luke hated her with the passion of a thousand suns?
* * *
Luke was feeling pretty proud of himself. For his second visit with Emma, Shelby had put him on the list of people authorized to pick her up from school. Since he had the day off, he was going to do that. This time she was staying at his house for dinner and he had kid-friendly, nonallergenic food in the refrigerator—frozen nuggets and fries. The only thing that could trip him up was how to entertain her until then.
Shelby had told him to ask about homework. In the after-school program Emma attended they usually did that first and then activities. But his philosophy was that she’d been in a classroom all day and needed to let off a little steam before tackling books. And he thought he had just the thing for an activity.
Now he was outside of Emma’s classroom waiting for her to be dismissed. There were a few moms, too, and they were giving him funny looks. In this era of know your surroundings, see something/say something, he understood it was their duty. But it made him want to flash his badge and ID and assure them he was one of the good guys. He thought better of it, however, not wanting to make this particular first with his daughter weird.
Thankfully the bell rang, her classroom door opened and an older woman who must be the teacher stood there. He could see a line of kids not very patiently waiting just inside for the signal to move out.
Finally the teacher said, “You’re dismissed, children. Remember, no running.”
The first few filed outside and some went with the waiting moms. A couple of others managed to maintain decorum until getting to the open playground before disobeying the order not to run. Then Emma walked outside. She saw him and suddenly looked shy and uncomfortable. How long would it be until she just smiled as if he’d been around forever? Like the other kids did with their parents. He wouldn’t have to wonder about it if he’d known from the beginning.
Emma walked over to him. “Hi. You’re here.”
“Didn’t your mom tell you I would be?”
“Yeah. It’s just—”
Emma’s teacher walked over. “Hi. I’m Audrey Lambert, Emma’s teacher.”
“Luke McCoy,” he
said and shook her hand. “I’m Emma’s dad.” This time he did pull out his ID and badge then let her examine them.
“Thank you.” She handed them back. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Same here.”
This woman smiled as if a long-lost dad showed up there every day. “Shelby called and said you’d be picking Emma up.”
“Yes. I’m an HHPD detective so my schedule isn’t nine to five, off on weekends. With days off during the week I can fill in, give Emma a break from routine.”
“I’m sure she’ll enjoy that.”
Luke was about to find out. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time so we’ll get going.”
She smiled at the little girl. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Bye, Mrs. Lambert.” Emma looked really uncomfortable.
Luke walked beside her on the way to his truck and wondered if her pink backpack was heavy. He pointed to it. “Can I take that for you?”
“No.”
Was it independence or something else? This wasn’t the same kid who’d chowed down on junk food and got excited about a new soccer ball. This felt like going backward with her and he wasn’t sure what he’d done.
When they got to the lot where he’d parked, Luke opened the rear passenger door. “Back seat, kid. In the middle, remember? Like when we went for fast food. It’s the safest place.”
“But, Mommy—”
“It’s not negotiable.” On patrol he’d seen too many accidents where things ended badly because someone thought it would be okay just this once.
She settled in to his satisfaction, but didn’t look happy. Luke got behind the wheel and started the engine, then backed out of the space. He made a right turn out of the parking lot.
“This isn’t the way home,” Emma said.
“We’re going to make a stop first.”
“Where?” There was suspicion all over that single word.
“It’s a surprise.”
“But Mommy always wants me to do homework first.”
“Today is going to be a little bit different. Is that all right?” he asked.
Daughter on His Doorstep Page 4