* * *
“She researched pacifiers, Mom.” Mason stopped pacing the kitchen long enough to look at the woman who’d given birth to him. “I don’t know whether or not she’s a good mother, but both babies were clean, well-fed and happy. Well, one or the other was crying, but it was normal crying, if you know what I mean.”
“I do,” Florence Blackburne said wryly. “And it’s not like she staged the scene. She had no idea you were going to stop by.”
“That’s true.” He’d arrived home five days ago and told her everything. He’d started his job as an ER doctor and he was house hunting. None of it took his mind off the fact that he might be a father.
“That poor woman. Losing her sister and now raising two infants by herself.” His mom was shaking her head and there was sympathy in her eyes. “I don’t know what I would have done without your father when you and your siblings were born. And I only had one baby at a time.”
“Yeah. She looked really exhausted.” Pretty in spite of that, he thought. He remembered Jessica and Annie looked a lot like her. But their personalities were very different. Jess was a little wild, living on the edge. Annie seemed maternal, nurturing. Protective. Honest. The kind of woman he’d want to raise his children. If they were his children.
The lab hadn’t notified him yet, but this was business day number five and he kept looking at his phone to make sure he hadn’t missed the call.
“Checking your cell isn’t going to make the news come any faster. I’m sure the twins are yours.” His mother gave him her “mom” look, full of understanding and support.
She loved kids and had four of them, never for a moment letting on that she’d sacrificed anything on their behalf. Mason was wired like her and badly wanted kids of his own. The woman he’d married had shared that dream, and the heartbreak of not being able to realize it had broken them up. The third miscarriage had cost him his child and his wife—he’d lost his whole family. If the experience had taught him anything, it was not to have expectations or get his hopes up.
“If only DNA results happened as fast in real life as they do on TV,” he said.
“Did the babies look like you?” Flo asked. “Eye color? Shape of the face? That strong, square jaw,” she teased.
“They actually looked a lot like Annie. Their aunt. Hazel eyes. Blond hair. Pretty.” Something he didn’t share with his mother was that Annie Campbell had a very nice ass. Her baggy sweats had hid that asset, no pun intended, until she’d bent over to pick up a toy on the floor. There was no doubt in his mind that a shower and good night’s sleep would transform her into a woman who would turn heads on the street. “DNA is the only way to be sure.”
“That’s just science. It’s no match for maternal instinct. And mine is telling me that those babies are my grandchildren.”
“Don’t, Mom.”
“What?” she asked innocently.
“If you have expectations, you’re going to be let down.” Mason could give a seminar on strategies to avoid disappointment. The only surefire approach was to turn off emotion. Not until the science said it was okay could you let yourself care.
Flo’s face took on a familiar expression, the one that said she knew what he was thinking and wanted to take away his pain. The woman was a force of nature and if she couldn’t do something, it couldn’t be done. Wisely she stayed silent about his past and the situation that had left him bruised and battered. And bitter.
There was something to be said for Jessica’s philosophy of fun without complications. But Annie was right, too. He hadn’t used a condom and chose to believe the woman who’d said she had everything taken care of. Now he was on pins and needles waiting for the results of a test that could potentially change his life forever.
It was almost five o’clock and the lab’s business hours were nearly over for the day. Maybe Annie hadn’t sent the samples as soon as she’d planned to. She did have a lot on her plate with two infants. It was possible—
Mason’s phone vibrated, startling him even though he’d been waiting and checking. He stared at the Caller ID for a moment, immobilized.
“For Pete’s sake, answer it,” his mother urged, nudging him out of his daze.
He did, assured the caller that he was Mason Blackburne, then listened while the information was explained to him. “You’re sure?”
They were completely confident in the results. Mason thanked the caller and pressed the off button on his phone.
Flo stared at him anxious and expectant. “Well? Mason, I’m too old for this kind of suspense. Don’t make me wait—”
“They’re mine,” he said simply.
His voice was so calm and controlled when he was anything but. He was a father!
It was a shock to hear the news he’d hoped for but shocks seemed to be just another day in the ER for him these days. Images flashed through his mind of meeting Jessica the day his divorce was final. She’d sat next to him at the bar. He really had only wanted to talk. A distraction from the fact that his carefully constructed life had fallen apart.
For a while talking was all she’d done, telling him about her sister, Annie, living with her between jobs, and that he would like her. Then she’d flirted and charmed her way into his bed. He’d had a rough time of it and she promised sex without complications.
Surprise! Let the complications begin. Oddly enough, complication number one was Annie Campbell.
* * *
At least this time Mason called to ask Annie if he could come by. He’d gotten the news from the lab just like she had, so of course she agreed to see him. The problem was now she had to see him.
He was the twins’ father, which gave him every right to be a part of their lives. But he made her nervous. Not in a creepy way. More like the cute-guy-at-school-you-had-a-crush-on kind of thing. And she had to figure out how to co-parent with a complete stranger who made her insides quiver like Jell-O.
There was a knock on the door. She noticed he didn’t ring the doorbell again, which meant he was capable of learning. And it was a good thing, too, since the babies were asleep at the same time. Although not for long since they needed to eat.
Annie opened the door and Mason stood there, this time in worn jeans and a cotton, button-up shirt with the long sleeves rolled to mid-forearm. The look did nothing to settle her nerves.
“Come in,” she said without offering a hello.
But neither did Mason. He walked past her, mumbling something about needing to buy a minivan and save for college.
“I suppose that means you don’t want to sign away your rights as a father.”
“No.” His expression was intense, serious. “In fact, since I last saw you, I consulted an attorney.”
Words to put fear into a girl’s heart. “I’m their legal guardian. If you try and take them away from me—”
“Whoa.” He put his hands up in a slow-down motion. “It’s just that even though I’m their father, I have no rights because my name isn’t on the birth certificate. Now, with DNA proof, I will acknowledge paternity and petition the court to legally claim my paternal rights.”
“How long will that take?”
“There’s a sixty-day waiting period, then however long it takes to get a court date,” he said.
“And then you’re going to sue for sole custody?”
“Of course not. No one is talking custody fight here. You clearly love them.”
“I do. But how can you know that?” Where men were concerned, suspicion was her default emotion.
“Because you did copious research on a pacifier. And I just get the feeling that if I look at either baby funny, you’d cut my heart out with a spoon.”
“You’re not wrong.” But how did he know her so well? They’d barely met. “Is that a negative critique on my mothering instincts?”
“Absolutely not. You’re protective.
And I think that’s a plus. I happen to strongly believe in traditional two-parent families. That kind of environment is a positive influence in shaping their lives. It’s the way I grew up and I didn’t turn out so bad. I’d like my children to have that, too.”
“I see.” That was good, right? It was something she’d never had and desperately wanted. Especially for the twins she loved so much.
He looked around. “It’s awfully quiet. Are the babies here?”
She wanted to say, “Duh.” Where else would they be? There was no family to help her out. She’d barely heard from her mother and stepfather after they’d moved to the other side of the country. Jess was all she’d had. But there was no reason to be snarky to Mason.
“They’re both asleep at the same time. It’s a very rare occurrence.” His grin made her want to fan herself but she managed to hold back.
“Maybe we should have a parade in their honor,” he teased.
“Good grief, no. The marching bands would wake them up and I want to enjoy every moment of this quiet for as long as it lasts.”
“Good point. A better use of this time would be for you and I to get to know each other.”
He probably wouldn’t like what she had to say.
Chapter Two
Annie tried to think of a reason getting to know Mason was a bad idea. She wondered how Mr. I Had a Perfect Childhood would feel about co-parenting with someone whose story wasn’t so pretty. But he had a right to know.
Common sense dictated that she find out everything possible about her babies’ father and she couldn’t do that without giving him information about herself. But he made her nervous. To reveal her nerves would require an explanation about why that was and she didn’t think she could put it into words. At least not in a rational way. Last time he’d been here, he was less than pleased about not being informed that he might be a father. Annie couldn’t really blame him and wondered if he was still resentful.
“Getting to know each other is probably a good idea,” she agreed. “I was going to have a quick bite to eat while Charlie and Sarah are sleeping. It’s just leftovers but you’re welcome to join me.”
“Thanks. What can I do to help?”
“Set the table, I guess.” She wasn’t used to having help; it was nice. “I’m going to throw together a salad and I have cold fried chicken. I’ll nuke some macaroni and cheese.” She pointed out the cupboard with the plates and the drawer containing utensils. Napkins were a no-brainer, right in plain sight in a holder on her circular oak table.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“One thing about me you should know right now,” Annie said as she put prewashed, bagged lettuce into a bowl. “Never call me ‘ma’am.’ It makes me feel like I need help crossing the street.”
“Understood.” He set two plates on the table. “So what should I call you? Miss Campbell?”
“Annie works.” She put dressing on the greens and handed him the bowl containing long-handled serving spoons. “Toss this, please.”
“Yes, ma—” He looked sheepish. “Sorry. I’m a civilian now.”
“I guess you can take the man out of the military but you can’t take the military out of the man.” She felt a little zing in her chest when she looked at him and struggled for something to say. “So, you were in the army.”
“Yes. I enlisted.”
She put a casserole dish in the microwave and pushed the reheat button. “Why?”
“I wanted to go to medical school and couldn’t afford it. My parents wanted to help, but it’s a steep price tag and I didn’t want them taking out a second mortgage or going into debt. It was the best way to get where I wanted to go without putting a strain on them. When I got my MD, I owed the military four years. The upside is that I was able to serve my country while paying back the government.”
Watching him toss the heck out of that lettuce, Annie realized a couple of things. He was way above average-looking and it wasn’t as hard to talk to him as she’d thought. Although, he was the one doing the talking. With a little luck he wouldn’t notice that she hadn’t revealed anything about herself yet.
Keep the conversation on him. She could do this. She was a grown woman now, not the geeky loner she’d once been. “So now you’re a doctor.”
“That’s the rumor. Also known as an emergency medical specialist.” He stopped tossing the salad. “I’ve started my job at Huntington Hills Memorial Hospital. Just so you know I’m not a deadbeat dad.”
“I didn’t think you were.”
“Just wanted to clarify.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “This kind of feels like a job interview. Maybe the most important one I’ll ever have.”
“I hadn’t thought about it that way. And it doesn’t matter what I think,” she said. “You are their biological father. Time will tell if you can be a dad.”
The expression on his face didn’t exactly change but his eyes turned a darker navy blue, possibly with disapproval. “Spoken like a true skeptic.”
“I am and there are reasons.”
“You’re not the only one. Your sister wasn’t going to tell me I’m a father.”
Annie got his meaning. He was wondering if keeping the truth from a man was a shared family trait. Part of her wanted to remind him she was the reason her sister made the daddy candidate list. Part of her respected his skepticism about her. More often than not people let you down and the only way to protect yourself was to expect the worst. So, yay him.
“That was wrong of Jessica. In her defense, I’d like to point out that she was taking steps to do the right thing. It’s not her fault that she couldn’t see it through.”
“Look, Annie, I didn’t mean—”
“Sure you did,” she interrupted. “And you’re not wrong. So this isn’t a job interview as much as it’s about finding a way to work together for the sake of those babies.”
He thought for a moment. “Can’t argue with that.”
“Okay.” The microwave beeped so she pulled out the casserole dish and stirred the macaroni and cheese, then put it back in for another minute. “So you have family here in Huntington Hills?”
“Parents and siblings,” he confirmed.
“How many siblings?”
“Two brothers and a sister.”
Annie felt the loss of her sister every day and not just because of caring for the twins. No one knew her like Jess had. They’d shared the same crappy childhood and her big sis had run interference at home and at school. She’d always had Annie’s back—no matter what.
“You’re lucky to have a big family.”
“I know you’re right, but I’m looking forward to having a place of my own,” he said.
“Don’t tell me.” She grinned. “You’re a man in his thirties living with his mother. You know what they say about that.”
“No. And I don’t want to know. Besides, it’s not as bad as you make it sound.” He smiled and the corners of his eyes crinkled in an appealing way.
“There’s no way to make it sound good.”
“I guess technically I live with my parents here in town. I sold my house before going to Afghanistan. I’m just staying with the folks until I can find a place of my own.” His smile disappeared and there was a shadow in his eyes, something he wasn’t saying.
And she didn’t ask. The microwave beeped again and she retrieved the dish and set it on the table. “Okay, then. That makes it a whole lot less weird.”
“Good.”
“Dinner is served.”
They sat across from each other and filled their plates. Well, he did. A couple pieces of chicken with a healthy portion of macaroni and cheese. He dug in as if he hadn’t eaten in a week.
He finished a piece of chicken and set the bone on his plate. “So, what about you?”
“Me?”
“Yeah. I’ve
monopolized the conversation. Now it’s your turn.”
She really didn’t like talking about herself. “What do you want to know?”
“Do you have a job?”
“Other than caring for the twins?” She realized he had no frame of reference yet for how that was a full-time job. “I’m a graphic designer.”
“I see.” There was a blank look in his eyes.
“You have no idea what I do, right?”
“Not a clue,” he admitted. “I was going to wait until you were busy with something else and Google it on my phone.”
He was honest, she thought. That was refreshing. “Let me save you the trouble. I create a visual concept, either with computer software or sketches by hand, to communicate an idea.”
“So, advertising.”
“Yes. But more. Clients are looking for an overall layout and production design for brochures, magazines and corporate reports, too.”
“So, you’re artistic.”
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I guess. But I can honestly say that I’ve always loved to draw.” She didn’t have to tell him she was dyslexic and that made anything to do with reading a challenge. Was it genetic? He might need to know at some point but that time wasn’t now. “Fortunately, I can do a lot of work from home. Which means I haven’t had to leave Charlie and Sarah much. Yet.”
“Oh?” He had finished off his second piece of chicken and half a helping of the macaroni. Now he spooned salad onto his plate and started on that.
Annie pushed the food around hers. Talking about herself made her appetite disappear. “We’re developing an advertising package and bid for a very large and well-known company. I won’t jinx it by telling you who. But if we get it, my workload could increase significantly and that would mean meetings in the office.” She speared a piece of lettuce with her fork, a little more forcefully than necessary. “And the twins don’t really have much to add to the discussion yet.”
“What are you going to do?”
What Makes A Father (HQR Special Edition) Page 2