Suddenly a Father

by Michelle Major

  Reliving those last moments of the aftershock had become a recurring nightmare. He and Stacy Smith, Millie’s mother, had never been in love—theirs was a relationship born from close proximity and convenience. But he’d cared about her and still couldn’t accept that he hadn’t been able to save her. Now a little girl—his daughter—was motherless.

  For the hundredth time, he wished it would have been him instead. Sure, his brothers would have mourned him, but there was no one who needed him the way Brooke needed her mother. His daughter had been sad but accepting of her loss, a fact that only made Jake want to change the past even more, as impossible as that was. He was trying his best to honor Stacy’s request that he form a relationship with Brooke even though he continued to feel out of his element at every turn.

  He glanced at the clock, then toward the window at the light peeking through the edge of the curtain. Normally his dreams woke him in the predawn hours and he’d lie awake with his guilt and panic until Brooke came in to start the morning. But if it was really close to eight, he’d slept over an hour longer than normal. Hoisting himself onto his feet, he grabbed a T-shirt from the dresser and made his way to the kitchen.

  “Daddy!” Brooke called when she spotted him in the doorway that separated the back hall from the family room and kitchen. His heart twisted as she ran across the room, a plastic tiara askew on her head despite the fact that she still wore her polka-dot pajamas.

  She grabbed his hand and tugged him through the family room, which was now shockingly clean compared to how it had looked the previous night.

  “Me and Fairy Poppins cleaned,” Brooke said as if she could read his mind.

  “Millie,” a voice called from behind the pantry door. “You know my name is Millie, Brookie-Cookie.”

  His daughter dissolved into a fit of giggles as Millie shut the pantry. This morning his new nanny looked less like a woodland sprite and more like a woodcutter’s fantasy come to life. She wore faded cargo shorts and a soft flannel shirt over a cream-colored tank top. Her chin-length hair was pulled back from her face with a wide headband, showing her delicate features to full advantage. Although she was tiny, the cut of the shorts made her legs look long and trim, and Jake had to shut his eyes to stop his gaze from roaming her body.

  “We made pancakes,” Brooke told him. “The real kind from homemade.”

  “Homemade pancakes?” He crouched down to her eye level. “They smell delicious, sweetie. Thank you for making breakfast.”

  “Thank Fairy—I mean Millie—too.”

  He straightened again and turned to Millie, who was pouring juice into three glasses. “I didn’t even know we had the ingredients to make pancakes.”

  She nodded but didn’t look at him. “The cupboards and refrigerator are well stocked. I was a little surprised, to tell you the truth.”

  “Olivia and Sara keep the groceries coming. I haven’t even used half the stuff they’ve brought.”

  “That makes sense.”

  He watched her set the juice on the kitchen table. Up until this point, all he’d managed was bagels and cereal for breakfast. “Thank you, Millie.”

  “It’s my job,” she answered, and for some reason those three words annoyed the hell out of him. “Do you want coffee?”

  “I’ll get it.” He moved toward the counter at the same time she turned from the table. She ran straight into him then stumbled. Despite the pain that shot through his leg, he reached out to steady her, keeping his fingers on her arms until she looked up at him. “Thank you for breakfast.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said, her voice breathless in a way that made him think she wasn’t totally immune to him.

  Strange how gratifying that felt.

  “I’ll pour the coffee.” Reluctantly, he released his hold on her. “You ladies sit down and start.”

  He joined them a minute later as Millie was spooning fresh fruit onto each of the plates.

  “Daddy, will you cut my pancakes?” Brooke asked, sliding her plate toward him.

  “I can do it,” Millie said, reaching over the table.

  “I want Daddy to cut them.”

  “You bet.” He didn’t look at Millie as he picked up a knife in his right hand. It was awkward with the wrist brace. The truth was he hadn’t cut a damn thing, even food, since before the accident. He forced his stiff fingers to grip the knife and slowly sliced the two pancakes, embarrassed that a trickle of sweat had curled down his back by the time he was finished. “How about syrup?” he asked when he’d finished, making his voice casual.

  “Lots!” Brooke bounced up and down in her seat.

  He poured the syrup, then set the plate down in front of his daughter.

  “Yum,” she said around the first mouthful.

  “How often do you have physical therapy?”

  He quickly put down the knife as he met Millie’s gaze. Was it that obvious how much difficulty he was having?

  “I’m scheduled for three days a week.” He used his fork to carve off a bite of pancakes from his own stack. “I’ve missed a couple of sessions, though, so I’ve been doing the exercises at home.”

  “I don’t like Daddy to leave me,” Brooke announced matter-of-factly.

  “Your daddy has to go to his appointments so he can get better. We’ll have lots of fun together until he’s done.”

  “Can I have my screen time then?”

  He glanced at Millie. “What’s screen time?”

  “You know, the amount of time Brooke has each day to watch television or play games on the computer.”

  “Like PBS Kids,” Brooke clarified for him. “You know, when I play ‘Curious George.’”

  “I thought that was educational.” He stabbed a few more pancake pieces onto his fork. “Isn’t educational a good thing?”

  Millie gave him a gentle smile—a teacher smile, he thought with a spark of irritation. The kind that reminded him that he didn’t know what he was doing as a parent.

  “Educational television is good, but...”

  “Not like the zombies,” Brooke interrupted. She scrunched her face up at the memory.

  Millie’s eyes widened a fraction. “Zombies?”

  Jake blew out a breath. “A commercial for some TV show came on while I was watching SportsCenter. It was graphic... I turned it off as soon as I realized.”

  “It gave me nightmares.” Brooke licked a bit of syrup off the tip of one finger. “Like Daddy has when he thinks of Mommy.”

  He heard Millie suck in a breath but kept his eyes focused on the table, unable to form a coherent response to his daughter’s observation.

  “My dreams about Mommy are nice,” she continued. “I have a good one about when she took me to the zoo and we saw a baby orangutan. I’m going to give Daddy some of my dreams at night. Then we can both sleep better.”

  Now he did look at his daughter, unable to keep his eyes off her. “Thank you, sweetheart. I want you to keep those good dreams for yourself.” It was difficult to speak past the ball of emotion knotting at the base of his throat.

  “I have plenty.” Brooke smiled at him then turned her attention to her plate, using her fork to make designs in the leftover syrup.

  He heard a tiny whimper and glanced over at Millie, who quickly wiped at the corners of her eyes with a napkin. “How about if we save your screen time for tonight, Brooke? Let’s rent a movie to watch after dinner. We need to drop your daddy off at his appointment and then we’ll go to the park. Maybe pack a picnic lunch?”

  Brooke nodded. “I like mac ’n cheese for lunch.”

  “Got it.” She stood and cleared most of the dishes from the table.

  Jake followed her to the sink. “Is it any wonder,” he whispered, “that I let her have as much ‘screen time’ as she wants? Without the TV or computer
as a distraction, she’d be slaying me with her innocent comments all day long.” He put down his plate and gripped the edge of the counter. “I’m in over my head here, Millie. It’s not a sensation I’m used to, and I don’t know how to handle it.”

  “You’ll be fine. This is new for both of you. Brooke went through a huge loss. The most important thing is that you’re here for her. She needs you, Jake.”

  He wasn’t sure if he could handle being needed, if he had the strength to make it work. But that wasn’t a conversation for right now. Brooke’s unconditional love coupled with Millie’s expectations of him doing the right thing crippled him almost as much as his injuries. His motto during emergency missions had always been Stay in the Moment. He could only deal with one thing at a time and right now that was getting caught up on his physical therapy. He was in no position to make any decisions about the future until he knew what his body would be able to handle.

  “Thanks for breakfast,” he told Millie before turning away.

  Her hand on his bare arm stopped him. Her touch was cool and soft against his skin. “You’ll be fine, Jake,” she repeated. “We’re going to make sure of it.”

  He gave a tense nod then walked to the kitchen table, reaching down to straighten Brooke’s tiara. “Best pancakes ever.”

  Her smile was bright. “Millie’s going to teach me how to make Frenchy toast tomorrow.”

  “I can’t wait.” He unstuck a strand of hair from her cheek. “I’m going to get cleaned up for my appointment. Wash your face and hands and we’ll pick out an outfit for today.”

  She shook her head. “Millie will help me get dressed.” She grinned. “She’s a girl, Daddy, so she’s better at clothes than you.”

  He’d wager Millie was better with everything relating to kids than he, but he didn’t point out that fact.

  “Sounds like a plan, Stan.”

  “Daddy.” She giggled. “You know my name’s not Stan.”

  He thumped the heel of his palm against his forehead. “I keep forgetting. It’s a plan, Brooke.”

  “Silly Daddy. That’s better.”

  One tiny thing was better. He only wished he could fix the rest of their problems so easily.

  * * *

  By the time she got the dishwasher loaded, the table wiped down and Brooke cleaned and dressed for the day, Millie had almost gotten her emotions under control.

  Almost.

  There was no doubt that Millie had gone through hell as a child, never able to claim her father publicly or even tell anyone she knew the man who’d helped create her. Her visits with Robert Palmer had been behind closed doors or incognito. She’d hated all the pretending she’d had to do. Hated that when her father was around, her mother insisted that Millie not trouble him. There had been no help with homework, no demands for more of his time or requests to attend a school performance. But she’d known him. He’d been a presence—albeit an occasional one—in her life.

  Brooke had lost her mother, and at four, Millie knew the girl couldn’t truly understand the permanence of the situation or what it meant for someone to be dead. It was trauma at a level Millie could hardly comprehend. Yet Brooke seemed to be handling it with a mix of cheerfulness and poignant honesty that touched Millie to her core.

  She smiled as Brooke played with her hair while Millie strapped the girl into her car seat. It was a tight fit in the back of her VW Beetle, not a car she’d planned on using to haul around a child and her very tall father. She focused on the task at hand and tried to ignore the fact that her back end was on full display as she adjusted the child safety straps to make Brooke more comfortable.

  Readjusting her headband, she turned then narrowed her eyes at the smug smile playing at the corner of Jake’s mouth.

  “I’m not thinking what you think I am,” he said softly, his blue eyes appearing several shades darker than she remembered. “Promise.”

  “Toss me Bunny.” She held out her hands, willing her body to stop responding to the wicked gleam in his eye.

  Instead he took the few steps toward her until they stood toe to toe. He placed the stuffed animal in her arms then traced his finger from the corner of her jaw down her neck, straightening the collar of her flannel shirt in the process. “You’re blushing.”

  “I’m just hot.”

  “You’re just hot,” he repeated.

  “Not like that. You know what I mean. It was a lot of work maneuvering that car seat into the back of the Beetle.”

  He gave a small laugh. “Right now I’m wondering how I’m going to maneuver myself into your car.”

  “It’s not that small. You’ll fit fine.” When he flashed a wide grin, she groaned but couldn’t stop herself from smiling in response. Something about Jake put her at ease enough to enjoy the playful banter. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Dr. Travers.” She turned and handed Brooke the stuffed animal then went around the car to slip in behind the wheel.

  She tried not to watch as Jake attempted to fold himself into the passenger seat. “How tall are you, Millie?”

  “Five feet, two and a half inches.”

  He gave her a look out of the corner of his eye.

  “In half-inch heels,” she amended. “You’re what, six-three?”

  “And a quarter.” He adjusted the seat back then lifted his booted leg into the car and shut the door. “If an extra quarter inch matters to you.”

  “Daddy, you’re smushing me,” Brooke said, and Millie saw the girl kick her foot into the back of Jake’s seat.

  He moved the seat up again, his knees grazing the dash. “Is that better?”

  “Uh-huh. Bunny needs room to spread out.”

  “Lucky Bunny,” Jake mumbled.

  Millie looked over, ready to continue their verbal sparring until she noticed the tight set of his mouth. Jake’s head was resting back against the seat, his eyes closed.

  She placed her hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”

  He gave a small nod but didn’t open his eyes. “Just not used to this much moving around so early in the day. Sad but true.”

  “It will get better.” She realized she’d said a version of that phrase almost a dozen times in the past twenty-four hours. Speaking the words out loud, unfortunately, didn’t make them reality.

  She backed the car out of the driveway and followed Jake’s directions to the hospital. When she’d visited Olivia before in Crimson, there had still been snow on the ground. Now the whole valley had come to life and the mountains rising up from the outskirts of town were a mix of the dark green of pine trees and the lighter shades of aspens. Even Brooke seemed awed by their surroundings, as she was quiet for most of the drive.

  She pulled into the hospital’s parking lot fifteen minutes later.

  “You can drop me off at the main entrance,” Jake said before she could ask the question.

  “No!” Brooke suddenly shouted from the backseat. “Daddy, don’t go. Don’t go to the hospital.”

  Jake turned as best he could toward the back of the car. “We talked about this, Brooke. I have an appointment and then I’ll be with you again. Millie’s going to take care of you until then.”

  “No,” Brooke said again. This time Millie could hear the tears in the young girl’s voice. “You can’t leave me.”

  Millie’s heart ached at those words. Jake met her gaze. “What do I do?”

  “Brookie-Cookie,” Millie said over the girl’s sniffling, “we’ll walk your daddy into the hospital.” She parked the car in a space as close to the front of the hospital as she could find. “You can see where they’re going to do the physical therapy and the office where his doctor works. If you want, we can stay and wait for him.”

  “Okay.” Brooke’s voice was a tiny whimper.

  Millie could see a muscle tick in Jake’s jaw
but ignored him as she unstrapped Brooke from her car seat and helped her out of the car. Brooke took her father’s hand as they walked toward the sliding doors at the front of the building. She sang a song to Bunny as she skipped along, once again content since she wasn’t being separated from her father.

  Millie came to Jake’s other side. “She’s afraid of losing you if you’re out of her sight for too long,” she whispered.

  “I could be here for a couple of hours.” He glanced at her. “Do you really want to hang out here all morning?”

  “I’m hoping that if she sees the office and maybe meets some people, that will make her feel better and we can leave.” She shrugged. “If not, we’ll stay.” She made her smile bright. “You’re paying me a lot of money to take care of your daughter. I’ll make it work, Jake.”

  He led them to the elevators and, once they reached the third floor, down the hall to the rehabilitation and physical-therapy offices. He walked forward, Brooke still glued to his side, to check in at the reception desk.

  “I have a nine-thirty appointment,” he told the woman behind the counter.

  Millie watched as the woman glanced up then did a double take. She could imagine Jake got that reaction quite a bit, although he didn’t seem to notice. “Oh, my goodness,” the woman gushed, “it’s really you.”

  Jake’s expression remained blank.

  “Don’t you remember me?” The woman smiled. “I’m Lauren Bell. We went to high school together. You missed the five-, ten-and fifteen-year reunions, Jake. And you were our valedictorian.” She tsked softly. “Of course, I see your brothers around town but never hear anything about you. I know you became a doctor and you travel all around the world. It must be so exciting.”

  Jake glanced at Millie with a look that screamed for help. She shook her head.

  “It’s...um... Yes, I’m a surgeon.” He held up his arm. “I was a surgeon.”