Man of the Month (Willowdale Romance Novel)

by Scott, Lisa

  “Jeanne didn’t think you’d want to be there.”

  Finally freeing himself from the blankets, he jumped out of bed and started searching for his clothes. “Someone should’ve told me. I was looking around for her all night, worried about her.” He thought about Jeanne going through this without him, and his stomach dropped. He blew out a breath. “They’re okay?”

  “Yes. Please don’t go storming over there and upset her.”

  “Of course not. I just wish I’d been included. I’m the father.”

  “Not to be a bitch here, Brad, but you haven’t shown any interest in being a father to this child. Not one of us thought you’d want to help bring the baby into this world.”

  He deserved that. It was true. “What did she name him?”

  “She hasn’t yet. You need to talk to her.”

  Tommy was still up, nursing a beer in the kitchen, no doubt trying to chase away his own ghosts of the night. “Where are you off to?”

  Headed for the door, Brad smashed a ball cap on his head. “Jeanne had her baby. I’m going to the hospital.”

  “Congratulations.”

  Brad stopped. “How could you say that? This is the worst thing that could happen to us.”

  Tommy shook his head. “This is exactly what you two fools needed to get you together.” He pointed at him. “Just you wait until you hold your baby. You’ll be singing a different song, I promise. A baby is going to make you see everything differently.”

  “I don’t know how to be a good father. Dad never taught me that. He wasn’t there for me.”

  Tommy set down his beer can and raised his eyebrows. “And that’s what your kid will be saying about you some day, if you don’t change your tune. You know all the things you don’t want to do to a child, right?”

  “Hell, yeah.”

  “Then that’s a good start. You and Jeanne will figure out how to be good parents. You’re good people. Now go make things right before they end up wrong.”

  “Thanks, bro.”

  Brad sped to the hospital, ready to use Tommy’s clout as Willowdale’s police chief if he got pulled over for speeding. But no one stopped him, and soon enough he was pulling into the parking lot, heart pounding, hands shaking.

  He didn’t get much farther than the security guard at the front desk. “Visiting hours are eleven to eight,” he told Brad.

  He braced himself against the counter. “I know. But my … friend just had a baby.”

  “You’ll have to come back during visiting hours.”

  Brad shook his head. “I mean, she had my baby.”

  “Then why weren’t you here for the delivery?”

  Brad sighed. Good question. “Can I please go up?”

  “I’ll tell the nurse manager you’re coming. Check in with her first.”

  Brad took the elevator to the eighth floor, pacing as he waited for it to stop. He checked in with the nurse manager at the desk.

  “Miss Clark is in room number 814,” the nurse said in a hushed voice. “She’s sleeping right now, but you can peek at the baby in the nursery. She didn’t give him a name yet, so look for the tag that’s says #1. He was the first baby of the year.”

  “Thanks.”

  Brad sucked in a breath and shoved his shaky hands into his pockets. He slowly walked toward the nursery, his heart racing. He paused before he approached the enormous window. He stood in front of it for a moment before getting the courage to search for the baby amongst the dozen or so little cribs.

  Then he saw him in the last bassinette on the right.

  Brad stepped forward for a closer look. He pressed his hands against the glass and looked at the impossibly tiny child bundled up in a blanket, his head covered with a blue knit cap so that Brad couldn’t even see the color of his hair.

  But there was no denying it was his child. A tiny dimple pocked his chin. Brad tried to choke back his tears and turned from the window. How could he ever trust himself with something so perfect? What if he disappointed the child, like his father had disappointed him so many times?

  His instincts had him wanting to run. To run far away. But instead, he watched the baby sleep for a while, then headed Jeanne’s room, leaving fingerprints behind on the window.

  He lingered outside the door then slipped in. Her arms were flung over her head as she snored. He stifled a laugh. She only did that when she was drunk.

  She must really be out of it, he thought. He sat in a chair across the room and let out a sigh. He should’ve been there for her. He’d been such an ass about the whole thing, she hadn’t even wanted him here.

  Had he lost her? He watched her sleep, just like he’d watched his son. All the pieces of a perfect life were right here waiting for him—the woman he loved, a child she had longed for—a child they’d made together. Why couldn’t he make this right? He imagined Jeanne and him playing with their little boy in the park. Teaching him how to make cookies. Holding him up to the sky and spinning ’round and ’round. He smiled to himself and drifted off to sleep with these unexpected feelings dancing through him.

  BRAD WOKE to voices. He sat up, startled, and saw Jeanne talking to a nurse. Brad rushed over and grabbed her hand. He wanted to demand an explanation for why she hadn’t told him she was in labor, but he knew the answer. He’d been a jerk, and she thought he hadn’t wanted to be part of this. So he squeezed her hand.

  “Are you all right?”

  She smiled and nodded. “When did you get here?”

  “Around three. Tonya called me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Always worried someone’s gonna take away her title of town busybody. She’s giving Faye Jenkins a run for her money.”

  “I wish I’d been here.”

  The nurse left the room.

  Jeanne looked down, toying with the edge of the blanket pulled up over her lap. “I didn’t think you wanted to be.”

  “I was horrible to make you go through this without me. I’m just so scared, Jeanne. I don’t know if you can ever forgive me.”

  Neither of them said anything.

  The nurse came back into the room, wheeling the bassinette. “Say good morning to your baby. I know you’re talking about adoption, but regardless, you can still breastfeed him.” The nurse handed the baby to Jeanne while Brad sank into a chair next to her.

  “Adoption?” he managed to whisper.

  Jeanne nodded.

  Brad looked at his son, working his lips and craning his head towards Jeanne’s breast.

  “He’s rooting,” the nurse said. “Go ahead. Try to get him to latch on.”

  Jeanne carefully sat up and shifted the baby toward her. She opened her robe and positioned him in front of her breast. He latched on and started sucking.

  “Wow,” the nurse said. “Usually that takes a few times. He’s a natural.”

  “Well, he is a Larsen boy,” Jeanne said, flashing Brad a look.

  Brad turned red, and the nurse smiled.

  “I’ll leave you three alone.”

  Brad watched the woman he loved cupping his child’s head, smiling at him, cooing soft words. His heart had never hurt as much as it did right then, realizing his foolish stubbornness could’ve prevented him from ever experiencing this moment. Then he remembered what she’d said.

  “Jeanne, you wouldn’t really give him up for adoption, would you?”

  JEANNE CONSIDERED his question for a moment. She didn’t want to give the baby away, but what was best and what someone wanted wasn’t always the same thing. She sighed and stared out the window at the sun reflecting off the few inches of snow that had fallen the day before. The day was a lot brighter than the mood in the room. It should have been gray and gloomy for such a bittersweet moment.

  “This baby ruined everything between us. I don’t want that for him. Someday, he’ll have to hear the story about why we’re not together, and what am I going to tell him?”

  He gripped the metal railing on her bed. “Jeanne, no. I don’t want you to give
him away. I want him. And I want you.”

  Jeanne stared at him, wishing she could believe him. “And what happens when things get rough? Babies cry, parents don’t get sleep. Are you going to panic the first time you get upset? Leave us because you decide you can’t do this after all?”

  Brad knelt next to her and wrapped his hand around hers. “No. I’d never leave you. I’ll stop drinking. I’ll take parenting classes. Whatever it takes to make sure I’m a good father. And a good husband.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You’re ready to make that commitment?”

  He nodded.

  She gazed at the baby and smoothed a finger down his chubby arm. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t say goodbye to this child. This baby was her family. And if she were lucky, Brad would be too. Her heart swelled. Could she really have it all?

  She looked out the window again at the bright, sunny day. She’d lost her parents and her happy childhood. Wasn’t it finally time for some happiness? For some hope—for both of them?

  Brad cleared his throat. “I love you, Jeanne. Can we make this work after everything?”

  She fixed Brad with a look and smirked. “I don’t know, Brad. I’ve already got Mr. January.”

  His smile fell, and his face paled. “Who?”

  She slugged his arm. “This little guy.” She kissed the baby’s head. “But I could make you Mr. February.”

  He gripped her arm. “So you’ll do it? You’ll have me? We’ll get married and raise this baby together?”

  She nodded. “With all the love that was missing from our own families.”

  He climbed into her bed, and she scooted over to give him some room. Then she placed the baby in his arms.

  Brad curled the child against him and kissed his head. He looked up at Jeanne with teary eyes. “What should we name him?”

  “You choose,” she said.

  He looked down at the baby, and smoothed his dark hair back. “Daniel.”

  “After your father?”

  Brad nodded. “I forgive him now. I have to put the hate to rest. I want to remember the good things about my dad, before things went bad.” He kissed the baby. “Danny here will help me do that.”

  Chapter 22

  JEANNE WAS willing to tie the knot down at the Justice of Peace. She didn’t need a fancy wedding, she just wanted to get married. They talked about having a ceremony on Valentine’s Day, but folks were clamoring for another anti-Valentine’s Day party. Brad had called off the sale of the business to Events Extraordinaire, and they were trying to build up some momentum again.

  “I slacked off on looking for work for us when I thought we were going to sell the company,” Brad said. “We really need the money and the publicity. We’re going to have to put off the wedding and throw the party instead.”

  Danny napped in a playpen set up at Elegant Eats, while Jeanne and Brad got their lunch orders ready.

  “I guess you’re right.” Jeanne tried to forget he hadn’t actually officially proposed. There’d been no ring, no dropping to the knee. That’s just romantic nonsense, she chided herself. “You’re right. We need to have that party. That way we can save up some money for the wedding, and maybe I can lose some of this baby weight.”

  Brad wrapped his arms around her hips from behind and kissed her neck. “You look great. Plus, we need time to plan a wedding properly.”

  She sighed. “We don’t need a big wedding. I’ve got everything I ever wanted. You. The baby. I’ve got a family.”

  But a thread of worry would be niggling at her heart until they said, “I do.”

  BECCA AND JEANNE were flipping through wedding magazines at Becca’s place.

  “I don’t understand why you haven’t at least set a date. Did he even get you an engagement ring yet?” Becca asked.

  Jeanne tossed her magazine onto the coffee table. “He doesn’t have the money. It’s fine. I don’t need a big ring.”

  “Right, but you do need some kind of ring. Are you sure he’s going to go through this after fighting it for so long?” Becca asked quietly.

  Jeanne’s heart pounded. “Yes. Of course.”

  Becca shrugged. “I’m just not sure I trust him yet.”

  Tired of the conversation, Jeanne popped up from the couch and picked up the car seat where her baby sat snoozing. “I’ve gotta get going.”

  She kissed Becca goodbye and bundled Danny into the car. Becca’s suspicions spun ’round in Jeanne’s mind, building and building like cotton candy on a stick. But there was nothing sweet about it. Before pulling out of Becca’s driveway, she called Kate. “Emergency meeting at Tonya’s salon. I’ll bring the baby.”

  “Be right there, girl, and I’ll bring Lizzy,” Kate said.

  They met at the salon in fifteen minutes. Tonya saw the two babies and arched an eyebrow. “Don’t you two dare start thinking I’m going to get a baby just to keep up with you. If we were talking new matching handbags, sure. But something that drools and cries? I’m out.”

  “We’re not here to sell you on motherhood,” Kate said. “Jeanne needs some advice.”

  Faye Jenkins was just leaving, though she took her time gathering up her purse and coffee mug, like she knew gossip was about to be spilled. “What’s going on, ladies?”

  Jeanne just shrugged and said, “Playdate.”

  Faye frowned, quickly found her sunglasses, and left.

  Tonya flipped her sign to Closed, and Jeanne cut right to the chase. “You don’t think Brad’s stringing me along, do you?”

  Tonya scrunched her eyebrows together. “He just asked you to marry him a month ago. Not many people could arrange a wedding that fast.”

  “And it takes time to save up for a ring,” Kate offered with a nod.

  “True. I just thought we could maybe set a date at least.” Jeanne sniffed. “And of course, we haven’t had sex with the six-week wait I knew nothing about.” Her sniffing turned into a cry. “What if Brad doesn’t really want me? What if he’s just doing the right thing?”

  Kate rubbed her back. “Just relax. You’ve got a lot on your plate, and post-pregnancy hormones don’t help. You know what might be fun? Going into Whitesville so you can try on some wedding dresses. Because the two of you will be getting married. I’m sure of it.”

  “Looking like this? And with the baby?” Jeanne asked.

  “You look great. Finally got those C cups. Brad sure appreciates them. Danny, too,” Tonya said.

  Kate pulled Jeanne up out of her chair. “Come on. We’ll grab dinner while we’re there.”

  JEANNE TRIED on six different dresses and fell in love with number seven, a beautiful strapless gown with mounds of tulle. The seamstress tucked and pinned it to give her the full effect. Jeanne twirled around in front of the mirror.

  “This is it, girls, if he ever sets a date.” In all her dreams about getting married and having a family, she never imagined just trying on a few frilly white dresses could feel so magical. With a sigh, she slumped onto a chair, the skirt of the dress billowing around her like a cloud.

  “Are you going to buy it?” Kate asked as she browsed through a rack of evening gowns.

  “Would that jinx things?”

  “Don’t ask me. I go through a pound of salt a month throwing it over my shoulder,” Tonya said, rocking Danny in her arms. “And don’t ask about the amount of holy water I buy off the Internet.” Tonya made the sign of the cross.

  “That’s the last one in stock,” the saleswoman said.

  Jeanne nibbled her lip. “I’m going to have to take my chances and leave it here. If it’s meant to be, it’ll still be here.”

  Jeanne changed out of the gown and waited for Kate to pay for a dress she’d picked out. Being the wife of a movie star meant lots of fancy parties for a girl more comfortable at a picnic in cutoffs than hobnobbing with A-listers in a Vera Wang.

  WHEN JEANNE got home, Brad was cooking dinner, and the delicious smells improved her mood. She set Danny in his swing, and he dozed of
f almost instantly. Seemed like the only time the child slept was in his swing. A three-hour stretch of sleep for anyone was impressive around these parts.

  Brad was living with her again, while his house sat empty. But he hadn’t moved everything out.

  “Are you thinking about selling your house?” Jeanne asked him.

  Brad rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not sure what to do about the house yet.”

  Jeanne nodded. “I tried on wedding dresses with the girls today.”

  “Find anything nice?”

  “The dress of my dreams.”

  “Did you get it?”

  Jeanne frowned. “Didn’t make sense to get it now. For all I know, we won’t be getting married until next year. Might as well save the money until then.”

  Brad just nodded.

  “What do you think about setting a date?” she asked, nibbling on her lip.

  “Let’s wait until after the anti-Valentine’s party and see how our finances look. I don’t even have a ring for you yet.”

  Jeanne looked up at the ceiling and blinked back a few tears, telling herself she was silly getting upset over this. Lots of couples took their time setting the date. Hell, Tara O’Hara had been engaged nearly a year with no date in sight.

  “Yeah,” she said. “You’re right. We need to just focus on the party.”

  NOT WANTING to argue with success, Brad and Jeanne planned to make the same fun desserts for their anti-Valentine’s party as they had for the first and set up the same games. But this year they also added baby cupid cupcakes in honor of Danny, and a fortuneteller for those folks wondering if they’d ever find love.

  Brad insisted on doing most of the prep work.

  “Get some rest,” he’d say every time he went in to work. “I can handle it. Just take care of our little guy.”

  So, Jeanne stayed home Saturday and Sunday while he worked on the cookies and cakes that most of Willowdale had come to love. She double-checked with Tonya to be sure Lily wasn’t coming to the party.

  “No, ma’am. She’s been dating Buddy Baker, and tries not to pout whenever I mention you and Brad.”