Quarterback Daddy

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Quarterback Daddy Page 6

by Linda Barrett


  Surprised at his dad’s question, Dan said, “You don’t need to meet her at all. In a week, it won’t matter. Michelle will be with me full-time. We’ll transfer her to my house next week, after I get back from Baltimore.” With hope in his heart, he added, “And grandparents are always welcome.”

  “I’M SO SORRY IT turned out this way, Alexis, but you did the right thing.”

  Alexis accepted the hugs and sympathy from Roz three weeks after Dan had come to her place. Her fears had been confirmed. Dan was in; Alexis was out—as of today—per expedited orders of the probate court. By some miracle, Roz wasn’t as angry with her for withholding the information about Dan Delito as she would have thought.

  “Under ordinary circumstances, I’d have been furious,” the social worker said, “but I can understand your reluctance to spread rumors if Dan Delito had turned out not to be the dad. In fact, we might have created bad publicity for the department.”

  “It’s the celebrity thing.”

  Roz shrugged. “Blame the public.”

  Tears rolled down Alexis’s cheeks once more. “I blame myself. Why did I not foresee something like this? At the very worst, I thought shared custody…. What should I have, could I have done differently to keep Michelle with me?”

  “Not a single thing.” Roz paused. “Look at me, Alexis. Hear me out. And believe me.”

  Alexis stared at her friend.

  “You did everything right, and life just sucks sometimes. Despite your pain, you’ve given your niece a gift that no one else in this entire world could have given her. The gift of a real daddy and a big family. You know we’ve checked him out, regardless of his great public image, and he’s the real McCoy. A clean background. Michelle’s getting herself a good daddy.”

  As long as he didn’t drink to excess. As long as her first meeting with him was an aberration. “And my parents are out of the visitation picture entirely. Right?”

  “Absolutely.” Roz stared at her. “Want to talk about them?”

  “I have nothing to say. They’re a closed chapter.”

  Roz squeezed her arm. “Okay.”

  They both tiptoed to the crib and peeped at the baby for a full minute. Alexis’s breathing became labored as she fought tears again. In one hour, her life and Michelle’s would change. Dan would arrive to take the baby, and Alexis would remain in an empty apartment. Tomorrow, and every night thereafter, only silence would be her companion in the condo. Closing her eyes, she already sensed the loneliness.

  She heaved a deep breath and straightened her spine. Suck it up, kiddo. No pity parties. Michelle will have every advantage you and Sherri didn’t—a loving daddy, a beautiful home, lots of toys and plenty of young cousins.

  “I’m petitioning the probate court for visiting rights,” she said to Roz when they returned to the living room. “I’d be a fool to trust Dan Delito’s promises. All he’s thinking about is his new daughter. He won’t care about me at all after he gets Michelle.”

  “You may be right,” replied Roz quietly, “but don’t forget, you got what you wanted, too.” She raised a finger as she made her points. “You’re back at work right on schedule this Monday, your daycare problem is solved and your money worries are over.”

  Alexis sighed. “I should have been more careful with my wishes.” Or she should have become a defense attorney with rich clients and a big bank account.

  When the buzzer rang from the lobby, nausea rose, threatening to overpower her. With a trembling hand, she pushed the release button to let Dan inside and waited for him on the threshold of her condo.

  “I’m going downstairs with you.” The sentence tumbled out of her mouth as soon as she saw him. She didn’t know she would say those words, hadn’t planned on saying them, but they rolled off her tongue as a done deal. She didn’t ask, she stated.

  His eyes narrowed, his tentative smile disappeared entirely. “May I come in?”

  “Of course.” Not. But she stepped aside and watched his expression change to one of delight when he spotted the baby in Roz’s arms. He made a beeline to Michelle and peered down at his daughter.

  “Hello, sweet petunia.”

  My sweet petunia.

  But the baby reacted with her usual excitement, waving her arms, moving her legs at the man. And with one feathery motion, Dan slipped Michelle from Roz’s arms into his own. So quick. So definite. So possessive. Then he looked at Alexis.

  “Coming to the car is not a good idea.” His gaze traveled all over her. “You’re on the verge of a meltdown already, and you’d only prolong the goodbye.” He glanced at the social worker. “Don’t you agree?”

  Roz’s arm came around Alexis. Warm, sure, comforting.

  But Alexis was beyond comfort. The reality was worse, much worse, than she could have imagined. Her insides trembled as though she were a rag doll with every limb dancing its own cha-cha.

  “How will she travel?” Her voice was raspy, her throat hurt. “Did you buy the right toiletries? Who will take care of her tomorrow?”

  And that’s when she saw compassion in his face, warmth in his dark eyes as he looked at her. “It’s all arranged, Alexis,” he said quietly. “Don’t worry about a thing. My mom, who’s raised three children, is coming tomorrow morning. We’ve got a home game this weekend against Dallas, and the rest of the family will meet Michelle afterward. I’m also calling a nanny agency to provide full-time help.”

  He walked toward her, raised his free arm and stroked her cheek. “I’m not a monster, Alexis Brown. Call me to arrange a visit.”

  Then he turned to Roz. “My attorney’s downstairs in the car. Are we squared away?”

  Roz nodded. “The paperwork’s done. The baby’s been delivered. She’s legally yours now, Mr. Delito. Good luck to you and Michelle. Just one more thing…”

  He waited.

  “I sincerely hope, for Michelle’s sake if not for her aunt’s, that you’re generous with visiting arrangements for Alexis. A child can’t have too many loving relatives, and Auntie Alexis tops the list. She’s kept your daughter safe and whole.” Her soft voice still managed to exude authority and professionalism, as well as loyalty to her client. Alexis wanted to cheer.

  “I’ll do what I can. My schedule’s hectic, though—Alexis knows that.”

  He approached Alexis. “I bought her the top-of-the-line car seat that converts to a stroller, her dresser is filled with clothes and there’s plenty of formula in the kitchen. She’ll be fine.” He looked at the baby. “Won’t you, Michelle?”

  But Michelle had spotted Alexis and begun crying and waving her arms again. Without thinking twice, Alexis scooped her away from the big man. “I’m going downstairs to the car.”

  His mouth tightened, and he shook his head. “Fine. But it will only be harder on you.”

  Five minutes later, after tucking Michelle into her new car seat, Alexis stood in front of her building and watched Dan’s automobile slowly disappear down the street. It reached the corner, stopped for a red light, then continued until it was a speck in the distance. A moment later, it became invisible.

  “I’ll stay with you for a while,” said Roz. “Come on upstairs.”

  But Alexis remained frozen to the spot, unsure if her heart continued to beat, but absolutely sure that in heaven, Sherri was crying along with her.

  AT MIDNIGHT, DAN FOUND himself lying on the floor in the baby’s room, more exhausted than after a field practice. Michelle just wouldn’t settle down. He’d fed her, burped her, even changed a full diaper, and still she’d been cranky. Finally, around ten o’clock, she’d fallen asleep in his arms. By that time, however, he’d been afraid to put her in the crib in case she woke up again, as she’d done earlier. So, he’d kept walking and holding her—for two hours.

  And all the while, he thought about Kim. He missed her so damn much. He fought the lump in his throat, fought the urge for some alcoholic relief. That urge—that strong urge—always came over him in tandem with his grief. He could se
e that relationship now. When he thought about Kim, he wanted a drink. He’d have to fight harder.

  When twelve o’clock struck, he held his breath, and as gently as he could, placed Michelle in the crib. She continued sleeping. Fatigue overcame his urge for a Scotch, and he dropped to the sleeping bag he’d placed on the floor earlier. His own comfortable bed teased from just down the hall, but he stayed put in case Michelle cried again. His lids closed.

  All he needed was a good nanny. Andy Romano’s law firm had done the research, and Dan’s agent had made the calls, keeping Dan’s identity a secret. As he’d told both men earlier, he wanted an experienced nanny, someone with good common sense. Someone who didn’t give a hoot about football and fame and could keep her mouth shut. She had to be kind and sweet with his daughter. She had to be someone he could trust when he was on the road.

  “And if I find that supernanny,” his agent had said, “I might keep her for myself!”

  Dan had laughed. “Fat chance. Your wife’s all about your kids. No nannies in your house.”

  He tossed and turned on top of the sleeping bag.

  Interviews were set for Monday. Tomorrow, Friday, he had a day of weight training at the stadium; a night’s sleep would help but was now unlikely. He’d spend Saturday at home watching videos of the Dallas Cowboys. Sunday was game day, and mental toughness was king. He started visualizing himself on the field, doing what he needed to do, passing the ball off, running or standing in the pocket waiting for his receiver to get open while, at the same time, bracing himself to be taken down. The images started to blur, to fade; his muscles relaxed; his breathing became even….

  What? What? He jumped from his bedroll and almost crashed against the crib. The baby was screaming her head off. Dan glanced at the window—still dark outside. Seemed his daughter couldn’t tell time yet. He peered into her red face, her mouth open, eyes shut tight, and reached into the crib.

  “Okay, baby. Let’s figure this out.”

  It had become one hell of a night, and it wasn’t over.

  “DAN! IT’S ONLY EIGHT o’clock in the morning, and your eyes are bloodshot. Please don’t tell me you’ve been drinking already?”

  Why did his mother always assume the worst? He opened the front door wider and stood aside. “Come on in, Mom.” She swooped in, his dad right behind her.

  “If my eyes are red, blame your granddaughter. I’ve been up and down for hours. And now—when’s it’s finally daytime—she’s sleeping.”

  Rita’s chuckle became full-throated laughter. “Oh, my goodness. I guess you are a real daddy after all.”

  “I can only stay five minutes, Danny-boy,” said Nick. “Where is she?” His dad and Joe would work the store alone today. Rita would be missed.

  “Follow me, but if you wake her…” His idle threat was treated with amusement. “The kid’s got lung power, that’s for sure,” said Dan. He yawned twice, then stretched his entire body just to get moving.

  “How are you going to play on Sunday?” demanded Nicky. “Look at you. You’re exhausted.”

  “It’ll be easier when she has a nanny.” He covered his mouth as he yawned for a third time.

  “Get a couple of hours’ sleep now, Danny. I’m here for the day,” Rita said.

  He nodded. “Right after we peep in on her.” Better to be late but ready for his workout than to show up on time and accomplish nothing. Lateness, however, could not become a habit.

  They walked up to the third floor, which contained the three bedrooms of the town house, and tiptoed into Michelle’s room.

  Dan stood back and watched his parents’ reservations melt like ice cream on a summer’s day, as they viewed their newest grandchild for the first time. Michelle lay on her back in a bunting—no blankets—just the way Alexis had instructed him. It was safer this way.

  “She’s beautiful, Danny,” whispered Rita, her eyes filling and her hands hovering over the infant.

  “Don’t wake her up!” Dan whispered. “Let’s go.”

  They made it as far as the door before Michelle demonstrated her lung power. Dan closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, the pulse in his temple starting to throb. The first night with his daughter did not bode well for his immediate future. He wondered if Michelle woke up every night or if she’d slept through at Alexis’s place.

  After his two-hour nap, Dan’s cell rang just as he was leaving for the stadium.

  “So, how did it go?”

  He recognized the woman’s voice immediately. Her anxious voice.

  “Not to worry, Auntie. She slept like a top.” Liar.

  “Really?” It was almost a squeal. “I’m so relieved. I—I thought…well, I didn’t know what to think, so I was up all night. You must have a magic touch.”

  He could picture her pacing, moving, smiling. “Didn’t she sleep through at your place?”

  “Sure,” said Alexis, “if you consider six hours sleeping through. Usually from about ten at night to four in the morning, and then wham-oh! She screamed for that bottle.”

  The woman sounded so cheerful about interrupted sleep, while all Dan wanted to do was crash to the floor. Again.

  BY SATURDAY MORNING, ALEXIS had polished her condo to a shine. Not a speck of dust lived. Her business suits hung with their matched blouses ready to be worn to the office again, starting Monday. All of Michelle’s clothes and toiletries were organized and waiting for her when she visited. Alexis had kept herself busy, busy, busy, wiping tears away as she worked. She missed Michelle—the baby who felt like her daughter. And now, with the weekend still ahead of her, she had nothing more to do.

  She glanced out the window. A sunny day beckoned, and she put on her running shoes and a headband. With her cell and a few dollars zipped in her pocket, and a bud in her ear, she cranked her iPod and headed out.

  She hadn’t lied to Dan about their hometown. Boston was a walking city, a city of parks and running trails, and the historic Freedom Trail, which was a Mecca for tourists. She had pushed Michelle’s stroller for miles. Fresh air was good for children, including babies, and exercise was good for her.

  Today, she could jog to the Public Gardens, or she could jog down Boylston Street and window-shop along the way. She had lots of lovely choices. So it seemed strange that an hour after leaving her condo, she found herself on the corner of Chestnut Street—Dan Delito’s street in the historic Beacon Hill section. She hadn’t planned the roundabout route—not consciously—but here she was, slowing down her pace to a walk while her heart rate actually increased. Weird what a case of nerves could do.

  She palmed her cell and pushed Dan’s number. The man had invited her to call and arrange a visit.

  “Hi, Alexis.”

  “Caller ID?”

  “You bet. And you’re on it.”

  Hmm…that actually didn’t sound too bad. “I happen to be in the neighborhood, and I was wondering about stopping off for a few minutes.” Please, please, please.

  “Not a good idea right now. Sorry. Tomorrow’s the game, and today’s my day to relax at home and keep the muscles loose. No weight training, no practices. So it’s a good day for Michelle and me to pal around and get to know each other better.”

  She blinked back tears, now clearly realizing how much she’d counted on the visit. And how little authority she had. “I see. So when do you think—”

  “Ahh-ohh.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Sorry, that was a yawn.” A second yawn followed.

  “So, how many hours of sleep did you actually get?” asked Alexis.

  An empty silence followed her question.

  “Dan?”

  “Give me a minute. I’m thinking.”

  Or still sleeping on his feet.

  “Here’s an idea that might appeal to you,” Dan said. “The game’s tomorrow, and a sitter won’t be coming until Monday. Would you want to stay here tonight and look after Michelle so I can actually sleep? My folks will be over in the morning, so you’d be
free then. This time, they’re watching a home game on television instead of at the stadium.”

  Did she want an evening with Michelle? Was the sky blue? “I’ll be over at…how about five, so the baby and I can have time to play?”

  “You sound like a little kid yourself, Alexis.” His deep voice was warm, friendly and amused.

  “You’ve just made me very happy, so if I come across like a kid, so what?”

  “Fair warning—don’t get used to it. I admit, I’m stuck right now, but next week I won’t be. We’ll set up a schedule soon.”

  Suddenly, “warm and friendly” evaporated, but she never went down without a fight.

  “A generous schedule, I hope. Remember, Dan, that with me, you’re getting a ‘value-added’ component in a sitter and an aunt. I happen to love your daughter.”

  AT FIVE O’CLOCK THAT evening, Dan opened the front door and lost his breath. Why did he always forget how pretty Alexis was? That smile could dazzle a man into forgetting who he was and what had been.

  “So, where is she?” Alexis reached into her tote bag and held up a small package. “First, though, I need to put this in the fridge, if you don’t mind.” She headed down the center hall toward the kitchen as though she owned the place.

  “What is it?” asked Dan.

  “My dinner. A tuna-fish sandwich. It’s the only thing I had handy.” She peered at him from beneath her lashes. “I’ll share if you’re hungry.”

  Oh, his hunger was rising, all right, but not for a sandwich. Those eyes of hers had darkened to a green velvet like rich moss. Her hair was gathered loosely at the nape of her neck. He wanted to pull the elastic away and free the thick mass, he wanted to touch it and run his hands through it. He wanted a lot of things he couldn’t have anymore.

  “That sandwich wouldn’t fill a cavity in my teeth, let alone the one in my stomach. Besides, a sandwich is not a dinner. You’ll eat what I eat tonight.”

  “You don’t have to feed me,” she said, placing her food in the refrigerator.

  He laughed. “I’m Rita and Nicky Delito’s son. I grew up in a kitchen, feeding people. Besides, tonight’s meal is important because it provides the fuel for tomorrow’s game. It’s more important than what I eat tomorrow.”

 

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