by Holly Jacobs
"Oh, Daniel's here?" Michelle popped out from the small path between the boxes and spotted him. "Great."
But it wasn't exactly excitement in her voice.
WHEN BRANDON FIRST CAME to live with her, a small part of Michelle had wanted someone—anyone—to take the responsibility out of her hands. Now, selfishness was back and it was wishing that Daniel McLean wasn't Brandon's father—that things could go back to the way they'd been and that Daniel would disappear from their lives. She felt guilty for harboring the longing, knowing how much Brandon wanted to have a father. From everything she could gather, Daniel was a nice enough man. And that was saying something, considering Tara's track record.
"You two have fun." Samantha grinned as she mouthed, Yummy, in Michelle's direction before she hurried out.
Oh, yeah, that's just what she needed, Samantha playing matchmaker. Of all the men in the universe that Michelle shouldn't be attracted to, Daniel had to be at the top of the list. Things were complicated enough.
Not that he wasn't attractive, but Michelle was planning to do her best to ignore that particular fact. Yes, she'd simply not notice that he was tall, that his hair always had a slightly mussed look that made her want to run her hand over it and smooth it and that his eyes danced when he smiled.
Yes, she'd ignore all that. Things had to stay strictly businesslike between them. If Daniel wasn't Brandon's father, he'd be leaving, and if he was, he'd be staying. Either way, she needed to keep him at a distance and do her best to protect Brandon, no matter which way it went.
"So where do you want me to start?" Daniel eyed the storage area.
"We have a Santa beanbag toss that has seen better days. Do you think you could take a look at it?"
"You're going to have to point the way. This place is a bit of a maze."
Despite her resolution to be all business, Michelle laughed. "When Samantha, Carly and I were assigned the Social Planning Committee, we thought we got the least popular PTA jobs there are. But if they ever institute a Storage Organizing Committee, that will be worse. Much worse."
"You can say that again," Daniel agreed readily. "What sort of social events is your committee responsible for?"
"Samantha just finished spearheading the Thanksgiving Pageant. It was quite the success, especially since it netted her a new boyfriend." Calling Harry Samantha's boyfriend didn't seem like a weighty enough description of what he was to her friend. She couldn't help feeling a bit of envy when she saw the two of them together. Someday, she wanted a relationship like that. Once she'd thought she was headed for something similar, but in the end it wasn't even close.
Where was she? Oh, the committee. "I'm in charge of the Christmas Fair, as you know. And Carly, our third member, is in charge of the Valentine's Dance. There's one more activity in the spring, but Heidi, the PTA president, is going to take care of that this year because she couldn't find any other volunteers."
"Oh. Sounds like. . .well, I was going to say fun, but really, it just sounds like work. A lot of work."
"Well, if I get it organized properly, it shouldn't be too bad, and the kids will have fun, and that's what's important."
"Speaking of kids, where's Brandon?"
"Oh, he'll be down soon. He's helping Mrs. Baker clean her animal cages. She's the science teacher and had a lot of animals. He loves helping out."
"Does he have any pets? I've got a list of things I'd like to know about him. Things I should know if I'm—"
Michelle suspected he'd stopped short because of her. She'd felt herself start to frown. A list. He had a list of things he wanted to know about his possible son.
She tried to school her expression. His list of questions was a good thing. If he was interested enough to worry about knowing Brandon better, it was a good sign. "No, Bran doesn't have any pets. I work all day, so there's never been a good time to train a new animal. But he wants a dog desperately."
"Maybe for Christmas?"
"Probably not." She'd love to indulge Brandon and get him a dog, but she didn't think it was fair to leave one alone at home every day. She shouldn't feel as if she needed to justify her decision to Daniel.
He didn't argue, though he looked as if he'd like to. "Why don't you show me this beanbag toss."
Michelle led him to the corner where she'd been when they'd come into the room. "It's in there, toward the back, I think."
"And the rest?"
She shrugged. "I've got to confess, I don't know half of what's in here. Each year's PTA adds something. There's probably two decades' worth of paraphernalia."
"Okay, so why don't you start by telling me precisely how you run the Christmas Fair. What's included. I'll know what to keep my eyes out for as I search."
"Let's see, we hold it in the school gym. There are games the kids can pay to play, with prizes given out. We need an area for a Chinese auction."
"Chinese auction?"
She nodded. "A mainstay of any school activity. We ask local businesses for donations, and the kids buy tickets and drop them in cans to take a chance on items they want to win."
"What kind of things do you auction off?" he asked.
"Pretty much anything. There are toys, school gear, dinners at local restaurants."
"And you're in charge of this whole thing?" He shook his head. "I deal with deadlines and projects all the time, but I'll confess, this one would do me in. I might not have a clue what to do, but I follow instructions well, so you just tell me where to start."
"Beanbag toss."
"Okay. Let's go."
Michelle spotted a Santa hat at the top of a pile. "There."
Daniel nodded and started clearing boxes out to get to the game.
Michelle hurriedly returned to the door. She'd left her checklist there. She wanted to be sure they located everything today.
"Aunt Shell, is he here?" Brandon cried as he almost ran into her at full speed.
"Yes. He's in the back."
A look of palpable relief spread over Brandon's face.
She followed him as he sprinted to where Daniel was working.
The big man had already climbed back out with the Santa beanbag toss. It was almost Brandon's second collision.
"Bran, slow down," she hollered.
Brandon stopped in his tracks and Daniel peeked around the large plywood Santa. "Hi, Brandon."
"You came." Brandon was all smiles.
"I try to keep my promises, Brandon," he said gently.
In that moment, Michelle could almost believe his earnest expression. She could almost let herself believe that this man wouldn't hurt them, and that he'd be a good father to Brandon. Part of her would love to be that optimistic, trusting this person who seemed so nice, so honorable, so caring. But she couldn't afford to. She couldn't afford to let down her guard and risk this man damaging Brandon somehow.
There might not be much she could do if they found out Daniel McLean was Brandon's father, but for now, she'd try to learn as much as she could about him while maintaining her distance. Forewarned was forearmed.
Brandon and Daniel both disappeared into the room. Minutes later Daniel came back out.
"Brandon's hunting down the bucket of beanbags. This is it, though, right?" Daniel pointed to the big sheet of plywood, with a painted Santa with holes in the ball of his cap and three coat buttons. The paint was worn, and she could see the top half looked slightly off.
"That's it," she said with absolutely no enthusiasm. The toss was a mess.
Daniel nodded. "I could take it to my workshop and fix it faster than I could here. I have everything right there. . .the tools, the right setup."
"I was hoping you could just do something with glue."
Daniel waggled an end of the plywood that was held in place with only duct tape and a prayer.
"I see what you mean. But are you sure? It's not exactly spending time with Brandon, and I know that's why you signed on to help."
"No problem. I do want to spend time with Brandon, but
. . ." He paused. "This won't take long to do at the shop. Do you mind if I ask Brandon to help me get it out to the truck?"
The question was considerate. Just another indication that Daniel McLean was a kind man. A man who would check with her before asking Brandon to do something. A man who was volunteering to do extra work that sometimes wouldn't allow him additional time with Brandon. They were all checks in the nice column. A perverse part of Michelle really wanted to find something about Daniel that wasn't so nice.
She'd just have to look harder. For now, she nodded. "That would be fine."
"Hey, Brandon," Daniel called. "Do you want to come get the doors for me? I'm taking Santa to my shop."
Brandon popped into the clearing. "Sure. Can I go to your shop, too?"
"Well, I'm not going there now. I'm staying here to help your aunt. This project I can do faster at my place than here, is all."
"Oh."
Daniel lifted the Santa. "You got the door?"
Brandon held it open, and the two of them started down the hall.
Michelle followed them into the hallway and watched them go. She had what felt like a premonition.
Brandon would leave her.
The thought was almost a physical pain. She knew, in her head, that one day Brandon would grow up and be on his own, that he'd move away from her. But this was too soon.
Way too soon.
She forced herself to return to the storage room. She fell into the motion of checking things off her long list.
She found the huge box of holiday-wrapped coffee cans for the Chinese auction. She found the box of prizes that had started to trickle in, in response to the letter she'd sent out two weeks ago to local businesses. Mrs. Vioni, the office secretary, had the items sent down here. There were sweatshirts and other school items from the four local colleges—Mercyhurst, Gannon, Penn State Behrend and Edinboro. There was a beautiful wind chime from Nickel Plate Mills, and some great Erie prints donated by Burhenn's Pharmacy. She continued digging through the box, pleased by the community's response, and was busy cataloging the prizes when Brandon and Daniel came back in.
A rush of relief spread through her system.
Brandon was back.
She knew it was stupid. They'd only gone out to Daniel's truck, but still, there it was. Brandon was back beside her, where he belonged.
Unaware of her thoughts, Daniel simply smiled and asked, "Now what?"
Michelle handed him a sheet. "There's nothing at all organized about this room. These are the items I still need to find. Could you two look for them?"
Daniel scanned the list. "A Christmas tree? You use a fake tree? There's something so completely wrong about fake trees."
"For the school—" Michelle started.
Brandon interrupted. "But at home, we get a real one. Aunt Shell and I go to Burbules's Tree Farm and pick our own out. Then we come home, make hot chocolate, and I listen to her complain all afternoon as we try to get the tree to stand up straight in the stand, and she takes hours to put the balls on just right." Brandon had made teasing her about her decorating habits an annual sport, one he got better at each year.
"Hey, Bran, picking on the woman who has to make your dinner tonight probably isn't wise," she teasingly warned him. "I think I have some brussels sprouts in the freezer." She knew that was a dire threat in Brandon's eyes.
"Ugh," he groaned right on cue. "That's just mean, Aunt Shell. I'll eat most vegetables to keep you happy, but those little green things are just gross. You're being cruel."
"And picking on me because I want to make the tree straight and tidy isn't?"
"She likes everything straight and tidy," Brandon continued, obviously not intimidated in the least by her threats.
"Brussels sprouts," Michelle repeated. But he wasn't buying even her most menacing threats. He just laughed.
"Okay, Brandon, let's be systematic for your aunt's sake," Daniel said, a hint of teasing in his tone. He winked at Michelle to let her know the hint wasn't meant to be subtle. "Why don't you start in the west corner, and we'll go from there."
"Sure, anything to make things organized for Aunt Shell. Really, you should see her. Some year she's going to pull out a tape measurer so she can be sure those ornaments are evenly spaced," Brandon said with a chuckle as he took the list and headed into the back of the room.
Rather than follow him, Daniel came over to Michelle and asked in a low voice, "Instead of brussels sprouts, would you consider the two of you coming out to dinner with me? I didn't want to ask in front of Brandon, in case you couldn't."
Michelle realized what he meant was in case she wouldn't. He'd asked her privately so Brandon wouldn't be mad at her if she said no.
She tried not to let the small gesture touch her, but it did. Yet another check in the darned nice column.
Daniel waited for her reply and she could see in his eyes how much he wanted her to say yes, but that he doubted she would. It was a look Brandon gave her. And in that moment, she could see so much of her nephew in Daniel. That hurt, as well.
This wasn't about her, she reminded herself. It wasn't even about Daniel. It was about Brandon, and he wanted to get to know this man. So, she replied, "Yes, that would be nice."
"Do you mind if I ask him where he'd like to go?"
"Go ahead. Though I'm pretty sure I can tell you his response."
Daniel disappeared into the storeroom. She heard him say, "Your aunt says we could all go out to dinner, if—" He didn't get any further because Brandon's whoop interrupted him.
"Do you have somewhere in particular you'd like to go?" Daniel continued.
"The Cornerstone," Brandon said immediately. "I love their burgers and it's not fancy or expensive."
"The Cornerstone it is."
An hour and a half later, they had found everything on Michelle's list. "I think that's it for today."
Daniel nodded at the cone-shaped foam object next to her. "What on earth is that?"
"It's a lollipop tree. You take a bag of suckers, color a few of the sticks at the bottom and push them in. The kids pay to draw out the suckers, and the ones that get the marked ones win a prize."
Daniel studied it a moment. "It's not very attractive in and of itself."
She shrugged. "No, but it serves its purpose." She gathered up her files and notes, and they all headed for the exit. "We'll meet you at the restaurant."
Brandon hung back. "Aunt Shell, can I ride with Daniel?"
It was only a few blocks. She had no reason to say no, as much as she'd like to. She thought of Samantha, and how her friend had worked so hard to get her ex back into their kids' lives. She'd done everything she could to facilitate a good relationship between them.
Samantha would say yes.
Michelle found herself nodding. "You don't mind?" she asked Daniel.
"No, of course I don't."
Brandon whooped again and headed for Daniel's truck.
"Thanks," Daniel said quietly to Michelle.
Michelle followed the truck. She could see Daniel nodding, presumably to something Brandon was saying.
She wondered what they were talking about. Was Brandon telling Daniel about his day? Filling him in on all the class happenings?
She was used to being his sounding board. Now, he had someone else who would listen.
She hated herself for being so petty. Daniel was willing to listen, and she concentrated on that fact rather than what she was missing out on.
The Cornerstone sat at the intersection of Thirty-Eighth Street and Pine Avenue. It was close to Mercyhurst University, and although the college kids frequented it, it still had a family air about it.
They got settled in the small dining area, and Brandon ordered his burger and fries. "And a house salad," he added as a concession to her vegetable-or-fruit-at-every-meal rule.
Michelle gave Brandon an approving smile as she placed her own order. Daniel ordered his meal, as well, and the waitress was back a few minutes later with their dr
inks.
The meal went smoothly. Brandon kept up a running commentary, forgetting the no-talking-with-food-in-your-mouth rule frequently. Finally, he wolfed down the remainder of his burger so he could talk without Michelle's auntly warning stares.
"And the chinchilla had babies, we think. She won't let them out of her box yet, but Mrs. Baker says she saw them. She put the dad in another cage 'cause he ate the last babies—"
"Bran," she complained.
"Sorry. No gross subjects at dinner," he told Daniel, then looked back to Michelle. "I can save them for after dinner, though, right, Aunt Shell?"
"You can save them indefinitely, as far as I'm concerned," she grumbled good-naturedly, which made him laugh.
They finished their meal and started gathering their coats. "I'll get to that beanbag toss right away," Daniel promised.
"There's no hurry," Michelle said. "Well, there is only two weeks, but it's not like you have to do it tonight."
"It will be done by the fair," he promised. "I'll see you two tomorrow around three again."
He said it as if it was a given.
Michelle felt uncomfortable again. Dinner had been casual and tension free. She'd enjoyed listening to Brandon's enthusiastic conversation. But suddenly, thinking about seeing Daniel tomorrow made her feel decidedly nervous.
She wasn't sure why her emotions were fluctuating back and forth, with no apparent reason, and she didn't know what to do about it.
They put their coats on and started for the door.
"You don't have to come every afternoon," she told him.
"I've already organized the next two weeks. It's one of the few perks of working for myself. I'm the boss, and so I set my own schedule."
He might be able to alter his hours, but she suspected he was having to make up for the time he spent with them, either by going to work early, or maybe he was planning to work after he went home. Either way, it had to be hard. But the look on his face was the same stubborn look Brandon often gave her.
Michelle just smiled. "Fine."
Their waitress gave them a friendly wave. "Thanks for coming. You have a beautiful family," she added.
Michelle didn't know what to say to that. She turned to look at Daniel, who simply turned around and said, "Thanks."