A Mom for His Daughter

by Jean C. Gordon

  “Good to see you both,” Tessa said.

  “Marc? Marc Delacroix, is that you?” a voice said from behind him and Fiona before they’d taken two steps toward the empty seats down the row from Tessa.

  He stopped, recognizing Charlotte Russell’s voice. She was someone he’d gone to high school with. What was this, homecoming week? Charlotte had also been one of the biggest gossips in Paradox Lake, although Claire had said Charlotte had reformed.

  He turned. “Hey, Charlotte.”

  “Fiona Bryce,” said a nurse who stepped into the waiting area.

  Lifting his hand and giving his former schoolmate what he hoped was an apologetic smile, Marc said, “Gotta go. Nice seeing you.” He trailed after Fiona and the nurse.

  Marc hadn’t considered that he might run into people he knew at the birthing center, or what they would think seeing him going in for an appointment with Fiona.

  The nurse led them to Autumn’s office. “Autumn will be with you in a few minutes.”

  They each took one of the seats facing Autumn’s desk.

  “That bad, huh?” Fiona said.

  “What?”

  “Your expression when we were walking from the waiting room.”

  He stretched his legs out under the desk. “I hadn’t expected to run into people I know.”

  “I’m sure Tessa won’t say anything.”

  “Right, but I can’t say the same about Charlotte.”

  Fiona shrugged. “I don’t know about you, but it wouldn’t be the first time someone has judged me without knowing the facts.” An undercurrent of bravado laced the nonchalant tone of her words.

  Without thinking, he leaned toward Fiona and the undercurrent changed course, crashing over him in a wave of protectiveness toward her. He wanted to shield her against gossip, his mother and whatever Autumn might tell them.

  As if in response, Fiona tilted her head and looked him directly in the eyes. His gaze fastened on her parted lips. Marc jerked back. Get a grip. This was about Stella. Not about Fiona.

  And certainly not about him and Fiona.

  * * *

  Fiona tried to get comfortable in the chair. Her nerves had already been on high alert before Marc had leaned toward her, his eyes searching her face. Then, when he’d jerked away and shuttered whatever emotion he’d been feeling, it was as if he’d poured rubbing alcohol on her already inflamed synapses.

  “Hi, guys.” Autumn stepped into the office and closed the door behind her.

  “Hi,” Fiona squeaked, her heart welcoming Autumn’s buffering presence while the dread in the pit of her stomach made her wish for more time to prepare for the test results.

  Marc simply nodded.

  Autumn placed a folder on the desk and took her seat behind it. “Marc, as I told Fiona, the testing is generally more definitive with a paternal aunt, but it can establish maternal lines, as well.”

  Fiona’s dread blossomed into full-blown fear and discouragement. Was Autumn leading up to telling them the testing was inconclusive? If it was, she’d have to prove herself some other way. She slumped in her seat. She was so tired of proving herself over and over again. For a moment, Fiona had a glimpse of the despondency Mairi may have felt. Had she been part of fostering that?

  Warmth enveloped her right hand, driving off some of the chill paralyzing her hope. Marc had placed his hand over hers on the chair arm.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “As okay as I can be under the circumstances.” She couldn’t help the resentment that flared. No matter what the results, Marc still had Stella and the rest of his family.

  “Then let me put you out of your misery.” Autumn flipped open the folder and turned it around so the charts were readable to Fiona and Marc.

  Fiona stared at the graphs of green and blue bars until they blurred into turquoise blobs.

  “So what does it mean?” Marc asked, voicing the question her mind was shouting.

  All of the air was sucked from the room. Fiona gnawed her thumbnail, a habit she’d broken years ago.

  “What it means...” Autumn tapped one of the bars with her finger and it came back into focus for Fiona. “Is that there’s a greater than eighty-seven percent chance that Fiona is Stella’s aunt.”

  Fiona’s eyes brimmed with tears as Autumn explained the significance of the various graphed results. It didn’t matter that she was only hearing half of Autumn’s words. Stella was her niece. A part of her sister lived on. God was giving her the opportunity to make it up to Mairi for not being here when she needed her.

  “Eighty-seven percent.”

  Fiona caught the last part of Marc’s sentence. After seeming to accept her as Stella’s aunt before the test results, he was questioning it now?

  “Pardon?” she asked, surprised that her voice sounded so normal.

  “I was following Autumn’s explanation of the results,” Marc said.

  “Oh.” A huge weight lifted from her. But she had to ask, “You accept that I’m Stella’s aunt?”

  His hand squeezed hers. “I accepted that when I saw the picture of you and your sister.”

  Fiona felt Autumn’s gaze on them and didn’t want to interpret the soft smile the woman had on her face when Fiona looked at her. It was probably on par with what Fiona was feeling toward Marc right now—that she should not be feeling.

  “Do either of you have any questions?” Autumn asked. “These are accredited results if you want to use them for legal purposes.”

  “No,” Fiona said as she felt Marc stiffen at the word legal. “No questions. I just needed to know.” So I wouldn’t be fighting for a dream that couldn’t be.

  “Marc?” Autumn asked.

  “It’s all clear to me.”

  “Great. I have copies for each of you.” Autumn handed them envelopes from her folder. “And if any questions come up, you can call me.”

  Autumn was looking at Marc more than at her. She and Marc had grown up together. Autumn didn’t know Fiona from anyone. Was her offer actually to support Marc against her if he decided he needed it?

  But he didn’t need it. All she was asking was to be part of her niece’s life, on his terms. Fiona’s thoughts went to Sunday dinner at the Delacroixs before Marc had made his announcement. Or was that really all she was asking?

  Marc lifted his hand from hers, breaking her thought. They thanked Autumn, left her office and walked to the entryway of the building in silence—a silence that nagged at Fiona.

  “Where do we go from here?” she asked.

  Marc gave her a puzzled look as he held open the exit door for her. “Where we were going before.”

  She stepped out and a surprisingly mild winter breeze blew over her softly. It seemed as if she hadn’t needed the DNA to prove Stella was her niece, to prove herself.

  He fell in step with her as they walked to their vehicles. “As I said at dinner Sunday, we’ll work with Renee and Noah, let Stella get to know you and tell Stella when we all feel she’s ready.”

  Marc made it sound so simple. Was she overcomplicating things? Everything in life didn’t have to be difficult.

  “You’re Claire’s friend, my friend. We can include you in some family things so Stella can get used to you in those settings as well as through Bridges.”

  His slow smile encouraged her even more than his words had.

  Marc had thought this out further than she had. She hadn’t gotten beyond having the one last piece of proof. She hadn’t allowed herself the hope to think seriously about how they were going to go forward or what she would have done if the testing had been less conclusive. But of course he had. He had more at stake than she did.

  Or did he?

  * * *

  Fiona’s hesitation to respond made the back of his neck prickle. “Hey, I have an idea,” he said to fill the
void. “Do you have plans for the rest of the afternoon and evening?”

  “Not really, unless you count a trip to the laundromat as plans.”

  He laughed. “We could do that, or we could pick up Stella and go to the Paradox Lake General Store and get burgers.”

  Natalie and Connor would ask about the test results when he picked up Stella, and for some reason he wasn’t ready to share the answer alone. Maybe because of Fiona’s reaction to the results. He’d expected her to be elated. Instead, she’d been uncertain, closed in. They needed to present themselves as a team to his family, especially to his mother.

  “Have you been there?” he asked. “The store has a small restaurant area.”

  “No.”

  His stomach muscles clenched when the silence between them passed the two-second mark. “Instead of going to the laundromat, you could throw your laundry in at my place to wash while we pick up Stella and to dry while we’re eating.”

  She looked at him.

  “That was weird, right?” he asked. So was his desperate need to keep her with him.

  Fiona burst out laughing, making her copper curls dance around her lightly freckled face, drawing his attention to her dimples—so like his daughter’s. A spot opened in his heart, a spot he’d kept tightly closed since Cate’s death—one he wasn’t ready to open.

  “Yes, it’s weird, and no, I haven’t been there,” Fiona said when she’d regained her voice. “You think it’s a good idea, the three of us?”

  He had no clue. He wasn’t thinking. He was reacting. “Stella has to get used to you being a part of...” His lips started to say my before he corrected himself. “Her life, the family.” Marc leaned against the side of her car while she unlocked it. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

  “All right,” she relented. “Give me a time and directions, and I’ll meet you there.”

  He pushed away from the car. “I’d like you to come with me to Nat and Connor’s place to pick up Stella.” He scratched the back of his neck. “So we can tell them the DNA results together.”

  “Do you think that’s necessary?” Fiona clutched her keys. “At dinner, everyone but your mother seemed to accept me, or did I read them wrong?”

  “No, they did.” He fumbled for words to explain his need to have her with him and came up with none. “They’ll be happy for you. I want you to see that.” That was the part of his need he could grasp, anyway.

  “All right. I’ll follow you.”

  “They live in the house next to the church.”

  She nodded and slid into her car.

  Twenty minutes later, Marc glanced in his rearview mirror to make sure Fiona had seen his turn signal before he turned onto Hazard Cove Road and into the parsonage driveway. He gave Fiona time to pull in behind him before he got out and waited for her.

  “What a pretty house,” she said when she joined him.

  He looked at the two-story white clapboard house that looked like dozens of others in the area, including his parents’ house.

  “I love the big front porch and the gingerbread house bird feeder,” she said, slowing her pace as they approached the porch stairs. Her gaze went to the Adirondack chairs set to look out over the lawn. “You know, I’ve never lived in a house. I mean a whole house.”

  Her words and wistful expression made Marc pause. He knew not every family in the area owned their homes, but when he was growing up here, at least, everyone he knew lived in a house. It wasn’t until he’d gone away to college that he’d met people who’d grown up living in an apartment.

  She smiled. “If the farm-to-table program takes off and is renewed next year, I’m going to look at houses, now that I have another reason to stay in the area.”

  “It’s a good investment.”

  Fiona cocked her head.

  “I can give you the name of the real estate agent who helped me find my rental house.” Of course, her other reason to stay assumed La Table Frais would take off, too, and he and Stella would still be here next year.

  “Are you two going to come in?” Pastor Connor stood inside the front screen door. “Or are you going to spend the afternoon examining the steps?”

  “Get in here,” Natalie said around her husband’s shoulder. “Hi, Fiona.”

  Marc swept his hand forward, motioning Fiona to go ahead of him.

  “Hi, Natalie, Pastor Connor,” Fiona said. “I was admiring the house, and I love your bird feeder.”

  Connor pushed the door open for them, and Marc craned his neck to see around Fiona and Natalie, looking for Stella the minute he stepped inside. He didn’t see her.

  “Stella and Luc are at the dining room table coloring,” Natalie said.

  From the way she bit her bottom lip, Marc sensed another reason Natalie hadn’t brought the kids in the room with her.

  “I had to change Stella’s clothes after her nap,” Natalie said. “She had an accident, and it upset her.”

  “That hasn’t happened in a long time.”

  “The poor little thing couldn’t get her pants down fast enough. She has on a pair of Luc’s jeans and undies. She was a little put out that he didn’t have any with ponies or giraffes on them like she has.”

  “We’d better not go out for burgers.” He shot Fiona an apologetic look.

  “Have you made the appointment with the specialist?” Natalie touched her finger to her lips and glanced at Fiona, whose eyes widened.

  “It’s okay,” he said to Fiona as much as to Natalie, “and yes, I made the appointment.”

  “Mommy, Stella took my crayon.” Luc’s voice came from the other room, interrupting the conversation before Marc could tell Fiona he’d fill her in later.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Connor said.

  “If Stella isn’t feeling well and we aren’t going out to eat, maybe I should go. I don’t want to upset her.”

  Marc felt a pang of disappointment when Fiona turned to Natalie, not him, for direction. Or was it disappointment about not getting to spend the evening together?

  “Wait, we need to tell Natalie the results first.”

  “Good news, I take it?”

  “Yes, the DNA test showed an eighty-seven percent probability that Fiona is Stella’s aunt.”

  “Wonderful. When Stella is older, she won’t have to wonder about her birth mother—you can tell her.” Natalie opened her arms. “Welcome to the family.”

  Marc watched Fiona step into Natalie’s hug. He swallowed the bitter tang in his mouth. Now he was feeling jealous of his sister.

  Fiona stepped out of Natalie’s embrace, her eyes shiny. “Thank you.” She turned to Marc. “You’ll get back to me if you or your partners want any more changes in the contract I sent you, so I can finalize it and get to work on a plan?”

  Marc had to think a second. Work. She was talking about work, distancing herself. “Right, I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

  “Bye.”

  The crunch of Fiona’s footsteps on the stone driveway sounded through the screen.

  “Do you think the testing is conclusive enough to sway Mom?” Natalie asked.

  “She said something to you?”

  “No, I’m going on the strange way she acted Sunday.”

  “It’s going to have to be enough, because I’m not going to keep Fiona from Stella. I think it’s important she be in Stella’s life.”

  “And yours, big brother?”

  “That question doesn’t merit an answer.” Because the one that’s front and center in my mind is all wrong, for so many reasons.

  Chapter Six

  Looks like I have to reschedule our tour.

  Fiona’s heart sank when she read Marc’s text. After the disappointment of having their burgers with Stella nixed on Wednesday, she’d been thrilled when he’d called her on Thursday and invited her
to tour La Table Frais this morning.

  Is Stella sick? Fiona texted back.

  No. Mom. She can’t pick her up from preschool. Are you free this afternoon?

  Yeah, all I have is some paperwork, which I can do now.

  Good. Meet me at the church about 12:30, after I pick Stella up from school. We’ll all drive down to Glens Falls from there.

  All? He must mean Stella, too. Fiona’s heart lifted at the thought of the three of them together. She bit back the impulse to ask him in case she’d misunderstood. This was a business meeting. And she was happy enough to spend the afternoon with just Marc.

  See you then, she answered.

  After Marc’s text, Fiona had trouble sitting still and concentrating on her work. But a few hours later, she was finished and headed up the sidewalk toward the church. The door to the hall opened as she approached it, and Marc stepped out with Stella holding his hand, dancing around beside him.

  Fiona’s breath caught at the sight of the tall dark-haired man in his businesslike trench coat and gray slacks, and the tiny little girl in her bright blue snow jacket and snowflake-patterned mittens and ski cap, red tresses curling up around the bottom of the hat. Marc waved when he spotted her, and Fiona got out of her car.

  “Perfect timing,” he called as he walked Stella over to her car. “I should have thought of this. Did you have lunch? Stella and I ate with her class.”

  “I’m good,” Fiona said. The butterflies of anticipation in her stomach had taken care of any hunger she may have had. She dropped her gaze to Stella, who retreated behind Marc, and the butterflies disappeared to be replaced by a lead weight.

  Marc gently moved Stella around him to face Fiona. “Sweetpea, you remember Fiona. She works with Daddy and Aunt Claire.”

  Fiona’s heart constricted with the little girl’s narrowing eyes.

  “Feena played balloons.”

  “Yes, I did. I’m going to come with you and your daddy to see his restaurant.”

  “My daddy.” Stella threw her arms around Marc’s leg as if she feared Fiona would take him away, and Marc tensed.

  Fiona had no intention of coming between the father and daughter. Still, she couldn’t shed the feeling that once again, she was on the outside looking in.