by Pamela Bauer
“Works every time,” she said with a grin.
“I’ve got to go tell Great-Grandpa. He didn’t believe me when I told him bread takes away slivers.” She went racing out of the kitchen.
Faith called after her, “Don’t take too long. You need to get dressed so you’re not late for school.”
“Did she really have a sliver?” Adam asked.
“Yes. You don’t remove them by soaking your finger overnight?”
“Ah…no. I usually use a needle and a pair of tweezers,” he told her.
“It’s less painful to soak it. All that jabbing and picking…” She shuddered and he had to suppress a smile. She’d just helped deliver a baby yet the thought of a tender finger could bring a chill.
When she pulled the eggs and milk from the refrigerator Adam said, “Megan usually just has a bowl of cereal in the morning.”
She paid no attention, tying an apron around her waist before getting started on the pancake batter. “She asked me if I’d make her pancakes today. Are you sure you won’t have some? You can serve yourself,” she said with a playful grin that made him want to pull her into his arms and kiss her.
“I’ll leave the pancakes to my grandfather and my daughter,” he told her, watching her whisk the eggs in a large bowl.
“Suit yourself.” As she measured the ingredients into the bowl, she said over her shoulder, “I need you to tell me what you want me to do.”
“About what?”
“Megan’s care. Now that Lori’s had the baby, will you want me to come directly here in the morning?”
He wished she never had to go home at night, but didn’t voice that sentiment aloud. “There’s no reason why you have to be here when she’s at school. Lori’s probably going to need your help during that time. You’re familiar with Megan’s school routine—I take her in the morning and Lori picks her up in the afternoon?”
“Yes, but there’s a problem. I can’t drive.”
“That’s something I’m going to check into. I’ll call the Department of Motor Vehicles to see what you need to do to get your driver’s license replaced. You may have to retake the driver’s exam but it would be worth it. I have a second car in the garage you could use,” he suggested.
“You have two cars?” She looked at him as if it was a luxury few people shared.
“It’s a convertible that I mainly use in the summer, but there’s no reason why it can’t be driven in the winter.”
“But I’m not sure I know how to drive a car.”
He frowned. He was thirty years old and the only adult women he knew who didn’t drive were of his grandfather’s generation. “That seems unlikely. Have you tried driving?” When she shook her head he said, “I’ll tell you what. After all the Novak employees have gone home for the day, I’ll take you to the factory parking lot and we’ll see how you do.”
“But what about the slippery roads?” Alarm flashed in her eyes.
“It’s warmed up enough that yesterday’s ice is no longer a problem,” he told her. “Novak Boats has a big parking lot. It’s a good place to practice because you won’t have to worry about running into anything if you find out you’re not familiar with the controls. We can do it this evening if you can stay an extra hour or so?”
She looked apprehensive. “Even if I do know how to drive, maybe it’s been a long time since I’ve practiced.”
“That’s all right. I believe it’s like riding a bike—once you learn, you don’t forget,” he said. “You’ll quickly get the hang of it again.”
“And if I haven’t ever learned?”
“Then I’ll have to give you lessons. In the meantime, I’ll make sure that Megan gets to and from school this week. Since Lori is still in the hospital you might as well take this morning off. Would you like a ride back to the Carsons’?”
“No, that’s not necessary.”
He thought about arguing with her but knew it would more than likely do no good. When she poured the pancake batter into the frying pan, he heard a sigh of satisfaction.
“Don’t you need a recipe for those things?” he asked, realized she’d made the batter without the help of a mix.
“I guess one thing I haven’t forgotten is how to make pancakes,” she answered.
She hadn’t forgotten quite a few things. Like how to make puppets out of handkerchiefs and how to remove slivers from fingers. Using a poultice of bread and milk might not be folklore remedy, but it was another piece of information about Faith he found intriguing.
After feeding both his grandfather and his daughter, she restored the kitchen to the same pristine appearance it had been in last night when he went to bed. It was the first morning since Megan had come to live with him that Adam didn’t feel as if they were racing the clock to get out the door on time.
When Megan turned on the television to catch a few minutes of an animated children’s program, Faith deliberately turned it off again saying, “You have no time for TV this morning. Es ist Zeit zu gehen,” then hurried to the entry closet where she pulled out her coat.
Adam looked at his daughter. “What did she just say?”
“That I have no time to watch my show,” Megan answered, lugging her backpack behind her.
“No, after that.”
“I don’t know. She says things that don’t make sense sometimes.”
Because she was speaking a foreign language. He walked over to her. “Faith, what did you just say to Megan in there?” He jerked a thumb toward the living room.
“I told her she couldn’t watch television because it’s time to go.”
“You said that in English?”
She gave him a puzzled look. “What did you think I said?”
“I’m not sure.”
He would have said more, but his grandfather came toward them saying, “Time’s a-wasting. Are we going to leave or aren’t we?”
Adam had no choice but to postpone any further conversation on the possibility of Faith being bilingual. It was just one more thing to add to the growing list of observations he hoped would someday help solve the mystery of her identification.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“IS THAT ALL he does—sleep?” Megan asked as she gazed at her cousin swaddled in a blue blanket in the bassinet next to Lori’s hospital bed.
Lori smiled. “I think he has his days and nights mixed up. He was awake last night and has been sleeping most of today.”
“Better get that switched around before you leave this place,” Adam warned his brother with a grin.
“Oh, we will,” Greg assured him.
“He has a dent in his chin,” Megan pointed out.
“That’s called a dimple. Uncle Greg has one in his chin, too.”
Adam didn’t miss the way Megan’s eyes went from Matthew’s chin to her uncle’s.
Lori reached over to carefully lift the baby out of the bassinet. “Let’s see if we can get him to wake up.” She tickled his cheek with her finger, gently calling his name, and his tiny mouth began to move.
Megan leaned forward to get a closer look. “Does he have any hair?” she asked as Lori tried to coax the baby awake.
“Yes. It’s blond, just like yours. See?” She removed the tiny blue knit cap from his head, revealing what Adam thought looked like peach fuzz. “You probably didn’t notice it yesterday because it was all wet from his birth.”
Adam saw Megan look from Lori to Greg and then back to the baby. “How come his hair’s not brown like yours and Greg’s?” she wanted to know.
“I guess because he’s a Novak,” Lori answered. “Your dad and Uncle Greg both had blond hair when they were born.”
Skepticism furrowed her brow. “They did?”
“Mmm-hmm. Haven’t you seen any pictures of them when they were babies?” she asked, and Megan shook her head.
Adam wasn’t sure that a photo would convince his daughter that he was her biological parent, but he did see this as an opportunity to reaffirm that he was her father
. “Not every kid has the same color hair as his mom and dad,” he pointed out.
“And hair color can change,” Lori added, unaware of her niece’s doubts about Adam. “Sometimes babies start with one color and end up with another.”
“Yeah, so don’t be surprised if one day you wake up and you’re staring at a brown head,” Greg said with a grin.
“Or you might always be a blonde—like your mom was,” Lori told her.
Adam could see that while the talk turned to other topics common to newborns, Megan continued to compare the newest member of the family to his parents. When she continued to ask questions about him on the way home from the hospital, he decided to stop at an ice-cream shop and set the record straight.
After ordering each of them an ice-cream cone, he sat down across from her in a small booth with leather padded seats and contemplated a way to bring up the subject. She gave him the opening he needed when she said, “Lori said new baby girls get little pink hats at the hospital. Do you think I had one when I was born?”
“I don’t know,” Adam answered honestly. “I wasn’t at the hospital. Do you know why I wasn’t there?”
She shook her head, then her tongue snaked out to lick the cone.
“I didn’t know you were born,” he said quietly.
“Because you were in heaven?” she asked in between licks.
“No. I was never in heaven, Megan. We’ve talked about this before. People don’t come back from heaven once they go there. You believe that, right?”
“Yes,” she said on a sigh. “But I wish they could.”
“It would make it easier, wouldn’t it,” he said in understanding.
“Uh-huh.”
“Megan, if someone had told me you were born, I would have been at the hospital. I would have been like Uncle Greg, studying your little face and trying to see what part of me you inherited.”
She didn’t say anything, but kept licking her ice-cream cone. He knew that he needed to get to the heart of the matter.
“When the lawyer contacted me and said your mother had died and that I was your father, I wasn’t sure it was true. I thought maybe there had been a mistake.”
She paused in licking her cone to stare at him. “Maybe it was a mistake,” she said in a tiny, uncertain voice.
“No, it wasn’t,” he stated firmly. “Do you know how I know that it wasn’t?” When she shook her head he said, “Because I did a DNA test.”
“Like the one Faith took?”
“Yes, only mine came back positive. You and I are a match. That test proved it. I am your father,” he said emphatically. “That’s why the judge said you had to come live with me instead of your uncle Tom. And you know what? I’m really glad he did because I wanted you to be my daughter.”
“Even if it means you’re never going to get married?”
He frowned. “Why can’t I get married if I have a daughter?”
“When Erica was baby-sitting me I heard her talking on the phone and she said you’d soon find out that no woman wants to marry a guy who already has a kid.”
Adam groaned inwardly, wishing he had listened to Lori when she’d advised him about letting an ex-girlfriend baby-sit Megan. “Well, Erica’s wrong—just like your mother was wrong when she thought I was in heaven.”
Her eyes widened and she pointed to his ice cream, which was melting down over the edges of his napkin. “You’d better lick fast or you’re going to lose it.”
Adam did as she suggested. When he’d eaten enough that ice cream no longer ran down the edges, he asked, “Just out of curiosity, would you like me to get married?”
“Yes, but Great-Grandpa says I shouldn’t hold my breath waiting because you wouldn’t know a good woman if she jumped up and bit you in the face,” she said in a tone that sounded very much like the Novak patriarch.
Adam chuckled and said, “Don’t be so sure of that,” then finished his cone.
FAITH KNEW THAT HAVING a driver’s license would make her job easier. If she wanted to continue as Megan’s nanny and help Lori with the new baby, she needed to be able to pick up Megan after school. Until Adam had suggested she use one of his cars, she hadn’t thought about whether or not she knew how to drive. Ever since she’d moved in with the Carsons she’d either taken the bus to work or relied on Avery or Marie to give her a ride.
Because she’d met few adults who didn’t drive, Faith assumed that she probably had a license, but without a name, it was impossible to know from which state it had been issued. However, once she climbed into the driver’s seat of Adam’s Lexus, she discovered she didn’t know the first thing about operating a motor vehicle.
True to his word, Adam had taken her to the Novak factory parking lot for a test drive. He’d pressed a button, magically moving her leather seat forward so she could more easily touch the foot pedals of the luxurious SUV. Next he’d adjusted the rearview mirror and pointed out the location of the strategic controls. Brake pedal, gas pedal, shift knob, turn signal.
She’d listened intently to his instructions, keeping her left hand on the steering wheel while she used her right one to shift the vehicle into Drive. Carefully, she’d moved her foot from the brake to the gas pedal and had slowly pressed it toward the floor.
Unfortunately it hadn’t been slow enough. The car had shot forward at an alarming speed that had Adam screaming, “Hit the brakes.” It had taken her a moment to realize that by brakes he meant the brake pedal. During that moment the Lexus had come dangerously close to hitting a lamppost, prompting him to bark out a second command, “Turn the steering wheel!”
The vehicle had spun around and come to a screeching halt without hitting anything. Stunned, she’d managed to say in a breathless voice, “I don’t think I’ve done this before.”
“Obviously not,” was all he had said before trading places with her.
He’d been so quiet on the way home that she’d thought he was angry with her, but when she’d apologized for nearly smashing up his car, he’d simply said, “No damage was done and at least now we know you need lessons.”
Only she had soon learned that it wasn’t simply a matter of Adam teaching her how to drive. In order to get a learner’s permit she needed identification or proof of residency. Without a clue as to her past, she had no documentation that would satisfy the Department of Motor Vehicles regulations. She’d hit a roadblock.
Even though she couldn’t get her driver’s license, Adam had brought home an instruction manual, telling her that he wanted her to be prepared for the day when there would be no obstacles in the way. “You can get to know your car even if you can’t get behind the wheel,” he’d said with a gleam in his eye. She’d known that he wasn’t only talking about driving.
There was no point in pretending they weren’t attracted to one another. She couldn’t think about him without her heart missing a beat, or be in the same room with him without her body aching with awareness. She knew that he was as affected by her presence as she was by his. It was there in his eyes whenever he looked at her and in his voice whenever he spoke to her.
The feelings he aroused in her felt new, causing her to wonder if she had ever been in love before or if it simply felt like the first time because she had no memory of past relationships. Because she could remember the knowledge she’d gained and was able to perform activities she’d learned in her past, she didn’t understand why she should feel like such a novice when it came to kissing, unless she’d had little experience doing it. When Adam had pressed his mouth to hers, she’d felt totally unprepared for the emotions that took over. Yet kissing was like driving. How could she not have any experience when it seemed as if every other adult woman around her knew what to do?
They were questions she doubted she would find an answer to until she found the key that unlocked her past. Until she did, she knew it would be wise to avoid spending any time alone with Adam. Because even though her brain told her it would be foolish to think of him as anything other than Mega
n’s father, she wanted him to teach her about more than just driving.
“DO YOU HAVE PLANS for Saturday night?” Greg asked, poking his head inside Adam’s office at Novak Boats.
“Yeah. Dinner and a movie,” he said, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms behind his head.
“Are you and Naomi back together?”
He chuckled. “Hardly. Ever since I had to cut short my Miami trip she’s refused to talk to me.”
“So who are you seeing?”
“I didn’t say I had a date. That’s me fixing dinner for Megan and the movie will be some children’s flick. If anyone tries to tell you that men with children are babe magnets, don’t believe them.”
His brother grinned smugly. “I’d like to feel sorry for you, but you’ve had more than your share of women over the years. And you will again. You just need to learn how to juggle being a father and being a player.”
“Yes, well, right now I’m concentrating on the father part.”
“I’d say you’re making progress in that department. Lori said Megan’s been referring to you as her daddy instead of Adam.”
“Yeah. Finally.” He sighed. “Considering everything that’s happened in the past six months, I guess I should be happy that we’re doing as well as we are. So why did you ask about Saturday night?”
Greg had stepped into the office and stood in front of Adam’s desk, his hands in his pockets jiggling change. “A couple of Lori’s college friends are in town so she thought she’d have a small dinner party.”
“How small?” Adam asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Five or six people.”
“Is that five as in one couple, three singles or six as in three couples?”
“She’s not setting you up on a blind date,” he was quick to assure him.
“Good, because I may not have seen a lot of action in the past few months, but I can still get my own dates.”
“It’ll probably be three guys and three woman, but Lori and I will be the only couple. It all depends on whether or not Faith comes.”