“Of course. Up the stairs, second door on the right.”
The stairs squeaked as she went up. Brady started the coffee brewing and got out two mugs and milk and sugar.
Heather lived a couple towns over in Dalton, where Audrey had moved after the divorce. His ex-wife had been a late-in-life baby, making Heather ten years her senior. Heather had always been kind to Brady even through the divorce, and though she’d never said as much, he sensed she’d understood her sister’s flaws better than most.
He wondered why she was here, if not to spend time with Sam. An uncomfortable foreboding filled his chest, but he shook the feeling away.
Once the coffee was poured, he brought the mugs into the living room and sat in his recliner. The smells of motor oil and brake dust filled his nostrils, making him wish he’d taken the time to shower earlier.
He could hear Heather murmuring softly to Sam through the baby monitor, though he couldn’t make out the words. His eyes burned at her tenderness. Apparently she’d exhausted that particular trait in the Parker gene pool, leaving nothing for Audrey. He had no idea how Heather had turned out to be such a wonderful person, but he was glad she’d found a good match in Jeff.
He heard her on the stairs and looked up in time to see her pressing a knuckle to the corner of her eye.
“He’s so precious,” she said as she took a seat on the end of the sofa closest to him. Her feet barely reached the floor. “I could just stare at him all night. Is he doing any better?”
“I think so. He’s not fussy like he was. And he slept through the night a few days ago.”
“I hate that he’ll grow up without Audrey. I know she had her . . . faults. But she did love that little guy.”
“I know she did. And I’ll make sure he knows that. And so can you. We should set up a schedule for visits. I want him to know his family, Heather.”
She averted her eyes, reaching for her coffee. “I’d like that.”
“Do you need milk or sugar?”
“No, this is just fine.”
“How are Jeff and the kids?”
“They’re faring well. The kids are keeping me busy with baseball and swimming lessons, and Jeff’s business is thriving.”
“Glad to hear that. How are your parents? They seemed pretty grief-stricken at the funeral, understandably. I hardly knew what to say.” The Parkers had never seemed to like him much, though he hadn’t a clue why. But they weren’t the warmest people, so maybe it wasn’t him at all.
Something passed over Heather’s features that made the foreboding unfurl in his gut again.
“Well. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” She set her coffee on the coaster and laced her fingers tightly in her lap. Her brown eyes were filled with pity.
“What’s wrong? Do they want visitation rights or something? I don’t have a problem with that. Like I said, I want Sam to know his family.”
According to Audrey, the Parkers had been distant and unaffectionate parents, but visitation was only fair. He wanted his son to know his grandparents, and they did love him in their own way. Plus, Audrey’s death had hit them hard, and the baby was the only piece of her they had left.
But judging by the dread rolling off Heather in waves, this wasn’t about visitation rights. “You’re scaring me, Heather. What’s going on?”
“Brady . . .” She closed her eyes and gave her head a shake. “I’ve been round and round with myself about coming to you with this, but I just couldn’t keep it to myself another day. They’ve hired a lawyer. They want custody of Sam.”
Brady reared back, his thoughts scrambling. A useless cloud of fear spread like poison through him.
“They’ve already filed the petition. You’ll be getting served in a day or two, and I just felt you deserved to be forewarned.”
“That’s ridiculous, Heather. I’m his father. They can’t take him away.”
She gave him a troubled look, her fingers twisting in her lap. “That’s just it, Brady . . . They’re saying you’re not Sam’s biological father.”
His lips parted as his heart kicked into high gear. He shook his head, his thoughts in a whirlwind. He and Audrey hadn’t been married when she’d conceived. They’d gone to the same high school, but that was years ago, and he’d barely known her before that night. She’d pursued him hard, and he’d been too filled with grief—and alcohol—to resist. The one night that steadfast, reliable Brady loses his mind and of course this happens.
He’d woken the next morning alone and full of regret. He’d been taught better, and he was deeply ashamed of himself. Never again, he promised himself, promised God. But five weeks later a phone call had assured him that once was all it took.
Audrey hadn’t been with anyone else since she’d broken up with her boyfriend almost a year before, she told him. The baby was his. She couldn’t bear to give it up.
Brady didn’t want that either. Audrey had seemed nice enough. They got to know each other over the next couple months, and he felt compelled to make this work. He proposed on her birthday, and she seemed truly happy as she threw her arms around him, saying yes over and over again.
“That’s absurd.” His voice sounded thready and strained. His heart raced, and his mind was spinning. Spinning out other scenarios. Scenarios where she might’ve lied to him. She’d been capable, he knew that now. But she wouldn’t have lied about this.
Would she?
Heather shifted on the sofa. “Mom said Audrey told her some things one night when she’d had too much to drink—that she was already pregnant when she met you.”
“That’s not true.” If he said it, maybe it would chase away this fog of doubt enclosing him. “He has my eyes. My chin. Everyone says so.” He had the insane urge to run upstairs and scoop Sammy into his arms. But that wouldn’t protect either of them from this nightmare.
“Listen, Brady . . . I don’t know if it’s true or not. Maybe it was just drunken rambling. But I thought you had a right to know what’s going on. A little forewarning before they . . .”
Her words hung in the space between them, the pity in her eyes doing nothing to ease his fears.
“What? Before they what?” His tone was a little sharp, but he didn’t have the capacity to feel guilty about it.
“As part of the custody complaint, my parents made a motion requesting a paternity test.” She gentled her voice. “I’m afraid the judge is ordering it.”
He blinked. How could they make him do this? “My name’s on the birth certificate! I’m his father! I’ve been taking care of him. I’m all he has now. Your parents have only seen him a dozen times in his whole life.”
“I’m sure you’ll have legal recourse even if the paternity test is negative. Surely.”
“It won’t be negative. I’m his father.”
But what if he wasn’t?
Fear took full-fledged flight. He let himself go there for just a second. Finding out he wasn’t Sam’s father. Being forced to turn him over to the Parkers. Having no legal rights to see his boy again. The feeling of devastation left him drained. A knot tightened his throat, and his eye sockets stung.
Heather’s eyes had filled with tears. “I’m so sorry, Brady. You don’t deserve this. My sister, God love her, had a way of leaving messes everywhere she went. But this one surely takes the cake.”
He remembered something then. Something that hadn’t seemed important at the time but now seemed critical. “He was almost four weeks premature.”
She tilted her head sympathetically. “But he did have a low birth weight. It’s possible he was truly early.”
He allowed that thought to comfort him for a long moment. Audrey hadn’t eaten enough during pregnancy, no matter how much he’d encouraged her. She’d been so worried about losing her figure, she’d only gained fifteen pounds. That could’ve attributed to Sammy’s low birth weight too.
He swallowed hard. “Who are your parents saying is the biological father?”
“Audrey never
told them. Just said he was no good and definitely not father material.”
As opposed to Brady? Everyone knew he was the reliable sort. He made a good living, and hadn’t Audrey reminded him time and again that he always did the right thing? At first she’d said it as a compliment. But soon after the wedding she’d flung it in his face like an insult. Had she only been using him all along?
His friends believed she’d gotten pregnant on purpose, tricked him into marriage. Sometimes he’d half believed it himself. But he’d never suspected this. Not for a second.
He couldn’t let himself believe, though, that Sammy wasn’t his. He’d take the test. He had no choice anyway, apparently. But no matter the results, Sammy was his son. Brady knew how it felt to have a parent give up on you. No way was he doing that to Sammy. He’d lay down his life for the kid. Fight for him till his last breath.
He looked at Heather, strength and energy pulsing through him at the decision. “Forewarned is forearmed. Thanks for letting me know.”
chapter two
Hope pointed her red Civic toward Atlanta, set her cruise control for sixty-five, and eased back for the hour and a half drive. She’d been filling a shift the past six weeks at Oldies 102.4, one of the state’s biggest stations, while their regular DJ was on maternity leave.
It was a great opportunity. Her dream had always been to land at a major station, and she hadn’t expected to have the opportunity so early in her career, even temporarily. But her regionally popular call-in show, Living with Hope, had caught the attention of WKPC.
Her home station, however, had recently been bought out, and a change in direction had cost her a full-time job. Fingers crossed, the exposure from this temporary gig would net her another opportunity—perhaps something bigger.
Her phone rang, and she took it on her Bluetooth.
“Are you headed to Atlanta?” her best friend—and Brady’s sister—Zoe said by way of greeting.
“Well, good morning to you too.”
“Sorry, I’m calling between deliveries so I have to make it fast.” Zoe owned a peach orchard, and her new market, the Peach Barn, was a huge success. “So, are you? On your way to Atlanta? Did you remember the claim ticket?”
“Yes, ma’am, I surely did.”
“Oh, thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”
Hope had agreed to pick up Zoe’s engagement ring, which had been resized. Twice. The jeweler had botched it the first time. Zoe was engaged to Brady’s best friend, Cruz. High school sweethearts, true love, soul mates, blah, blah, blah.
“I’ll pick it up after my shift. Then I’m headed to Brady’s to watch Sam for a few hours.”
“That’s a lot of running around. You’re such a doll to help him out. You have no idea how much he appreciates it. I feel bad I can’t babysit more.”
“Your hours are crazy at the Peach Barn, and you’ve got a daughter, a fiancé, and a wedding to plan. What have I got but my work?” Well, didn’t that just sound bitter. “Any word yet about the paternity test? I’ve been praying my heart out.”
Brady had taken the test almost a week ago after consulting a family lawyer his dad had put him in touch with. He’d also responded to the Parkers’ custody petition with a counter complaint claiming that he should have custody of Sam. The hearing for temporary custody was next week.
“Not yet. He hasn’t said much, but I know the wait is killing him. I don’t know what he’ll do if he’s not Sammy’s father. He loves that kid so much. We all do. I can’t believe even Audrey would do something so cruel and selfish.”
“What if it’s true?” Hope said. “Surely it would weaken Brady’s chance at permanent custody.”
“I’d have to think so. And the final hearing would be several months away yet.”
If that happened, Brady should at least get visitation rights during those months. But Hope was getting ahead of herself. The test results weren’t even back, and surely the judge wouldn’t give the Parkers temporary custody.
“I don’t understand why the Parkers are so set on this anyway. From what I hear they didn’t do such a great job the first time around. And they’ve got to be getting up there in years. They’ll be eighty by the time Sam graduates. How could that be in his best interest?”
“I don’t get it either. Hopefully the test will show Brady’s the father, and all this will go away.”
“Here’s hoping.”
“Oh—I’ve got a customer coming in,” Zoe said. “Hey, you know we’re the same ring size. Would you just slip it on and make positively sure it fits? I don’t want to make another trip down there.”
“Sure thing. See ya.”
“I’ll stop by Brady’s house and pick it up after I close.”
“Sounds good.”
When Hope arrived at the station she fussed with the collar of her blouse and straightened her skirt, then stepped out into the carpeted hall. The place took up an entire three-story building and made the station in Dalton look like the rinky-dink operation it was. Her time here was almost over, and she hated to see it end. She had no idea what she was going to do next.
She was grabbing a water bottle from the vending machine in the break room when Diana Mayhew, the operations director who’d hired her, passed by.
The woman backtracked, peeking around the doorframe. “Everything going all right?”
“Just terrific.”
Diana gave a warm smile. “We should catch up. Stop by my office before you leave.”
“Of course.”
Eight hours later Hope pulled off the headphones as “Addicted to Love” came on the air. It amazed her how quickly time passed when she was working. She loved her job. She’d been a little nervous here at first, unaccustomed to such a large listening audience. But big or small, it was all the same, really. She loved being able to touch people in all walks of life. Maybe make them laugh, think twice about something, or just keep them company. Brighten their day. It was a pleasure.
She said good-bye to the producer and announcer. Then she stopped in to chat with the gals in the front office before heading over to see Diana.
The director was on the phone when Hope peeked in. Diana waved her in, and Hope took a seat in the chair opposite the desk as her boss wrapped up a phone call—to one of the salespeople, sounded like.
Her eyes drifted over the professionally appointed office. Natural daylight poured in from the wall of windows. A large desk of dark, glossy wood dominated the room and matched the tall credenza behind it. The shelves were laden with hardcover books, family photos, and beautiful, real plants that made Hope wish her thumb weren’t as black as coal.
Diana hung up the phone. “Sorry about that. I just got new demographics one of our key salespeople needed.”
They caught up for a few minutes, chatting about the station and industry news. When the conversation petered out, Hope glanced at the clock on the wall.
“I’m glad you called me in, Diana. I wanted to thank you again for giving me this opportunity. I’m really enjoying it, and I’m learning a lot.”
“Well, you’re very good at what you do, Hope. You have a way of connecting with people. Our numbers are remaining quite steady, which Darren was concerned about.”
Darren was the station’s GM, the head honcho. “Well, if he’s pleased, I’m pleased.”
“I called you in this afternoon because I have some wonderful news for you.”
“Oh?”
“You may have heard that Dirk Crawford is retiring in a few months.”
“Of course.” Dirk had been on oldies for so long he was practically a legend in the region. He was the drive-time jock and a well-loved personality.
“Darren and I have spent a lot of time kicking around names for a replacement. We’d like to promote from within, but neither of us felt good about our options—until you came along.”
Wait. What? Her heart was suddenly beating like the kick drum to an eighties dance tune.
“As I said before, you have
a lot of talent. And, Hope, I really love the call-in show you did up north. You’re very good with people. Tender, yet straightforward, and so wise.”
“Thank you.”
“I spoke to Darren a couple weeks ago about hiring you to fill Dirk’s slot, and I’m excited about the possibility of bringing Living with Hope to our station on a nightly basis. As you know we’re catering to middle-aged listeners, mostly women. Married, divorced, people with later-in-life problems. I think our listeners would benefit from a show like yours. You had a psychology minor—I have that right, don’t I?”
“Yes.”
“Darren agrees with me, Hope. So we’d like to ask if you’re interested in Dirk’s slot.”
A full-body shiver passed over her. “Oh, wow. I-I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything right now. I understand this would require a relocation, but we’re several months away from October, so we have a little time. Take a few weeks and think it over.” She checked her watch. “I’m sorry to have to wrap this up just when things are getting interesting, but I have a conference call in one minute.”
“Oh. No problem.” Hope stood, her eyes meeting Diana’s and locking there.
Diana chuckled. “I think you’re in a bit of shock. Just give it some thought, and we’ll chat more later.” She picked up her handset, clearly an indication that Hope needed to leave.
“All right, then. Thank you, Diana. I appreciate your belief in me.”
“I’m confident you’ll make the right decision.”
Twenty minutes later Hope was floating on cloud nine as she entered the jewelry store. A full-time job at a large station. Somebody pinch her. Was she really ready for this? Ready to relocate and move away from her roots? Her friends?
The air-conditioning in the shop felt great in the sweltering June afternoon. The store smelled like flowers and money and boasted plush black carpet with sleek mahogany cases.
Hope waltzed up to the counter where a pretty woman stood with her coiffed blonde hairdo and red lipstick. She smiled at Hope as she placed an expensive-looking watch back in the case. “May I help you, dear?”
Honeysuckle Dreams Page 2