Today would be the day.
For better or worse, she would tell Alex Blocker the truth. After all, she’d kept it from him for far too long.
Maybe if she were to tell him before he figured it out himself, he’d be less angry. If she could break it to him gently, it wouldn’t come as such a shock to him. Maybe they’d be able to come to some sort of a meeting of the minds.
Yes, she told herself. She would do it. Today. This afternoon. As soon as Alex came to take her to lunch.
FEELING AS THOUGH he’d been given a gift, Block went home. He really liked the idea that he and Macy had a date. In the past, dates had never been that important, and he hadn’t had a steady woman since…He didn’t remember when he’d last been involved in a long-term relationship. But there was something about Macy that made him want to consider it.
He entered the house to be greeted by the sound of Saturday-morning cartoons on the television set and the fragrant aroma of cookies baking. No one was in the living room.
He followed his nose into the kitchen, and his mouth watered as he recognized the scent of his grandmother’s secret-recipe ginger molasses cookies. The recipe wasn’t that secret—he’d helped Gramma make them when he was a boy—but as far as he knew, she’d never given the recipe to anyone else.
As he stepped into the kitchen, he experienced another feeling of déjà vu as he watched Cory kneeling in a kitchen chair, one of Gramma’s aprons tied around his skinny frame. He was carefully spooning drops of batter onto a cookie sheet.
How many times had he been the star of that particular scenario when he was a kid?
Block’s mouth watered and his stomach growled, and he had a sudden urge to sit down and join the fun. “Man, that brings back some good memories,” he said as much to himself as to the other people in the room.
“Oh my goodness, Alex. I didn’t hear you come in. You could have made me drop this whole sheet of cookies,” Gramma protested. “What do you think you’re doing sneaking up on an old lady like that?”
Cory looked up from his task and grinned. “Hey, you came back!”
Block grinned back at the boy, as he pulled out a chair, turned it and straddled it, propping his arms on the back. There was something about that kid that drew him. He turned to his grandmother. “You’re hardly an old lady. And I didn’t sneak. You two were just too busy to notice me.”
“Well, I reckon I notice you now. Next thing you know, you’ll be clamoring for a glass o’ milk and a plate o’ these cookies.”
“Gramma, you know me too well,” Block said as he scooped a taste of the dough from the mixing bowl with one finger, then popped it into his mouth. “Are you going to leave me eating raw dough, or are you going to let me have one of those?”
Gramma placed several cookies on a plate and set them on the table in front of them.
Block looked at Cory and winked. “How about I get us some glasses of milk, so we can be official ‘cookie testers’ for Gramma?”
“Alll riiight!” Cory enthused. “Tha’s the part I like bestest—eating the cookies.”
Block grinned. “Two glasses of milk coming up.” He pushed himself up from the table and went to the cupboard for jelly glasses, then he collected a jug of milk from the refrigerator decorated with all sorts of childish artwork attached by magnets. Once his drawings had graced that homey art gallery. Would those done by a son of his own ever hang there?
He and Cory engaged in the normal cookies-and-milk activities while his grandmother bustled around the kitchen, putting the second sheet of cookies into the oven, wiping down the counters, the usual. Then Block noticed that Gramma stood still and silent, and she seemed to be watching their antics with more than casual interest.
Gramma’s gaze shifted back and forth from Cory to Block. She seemed to be studying them.
“Whatcha lookin’ at, Gramma?” Block finally asked. His grandmother’s scrutiny unnerved him in some visceral way he couldn’t explain.
“Nothing,” she said, her tone sounding more distracted than truthful. “Just my two favorite boys enjoying a plate of cookies.” She paused, seeming to think, and then she looked up. “Did you and Macy ever see each other?”
“What?” That was certainly an abrupt change of the subject. He thought a minute. “Of course we see each other. I see her almost every time I come home.”
Not that it happened all that often, he remembered. The last time he’d seen Macy was when he’d come home for C.J.’s funeral. Five years ago.
He looked at his grandmother, who was still staring intently at the small boy seated next to him. Suddenly he remembered the comment made by Bettina, the Bloodmobile worker and a lightbulb turned on in his head. Cory’s blood type and his were the same. “How old is Cory?”
“He turned four in May,” Gramma answered quickly.
Block did some fast calculations in his head. He’d been with Macy for one wonderful night in August, the same time of year when Cory must have been conceived.
They’d run into each other in Fayetteville, North Carolina, when Macy had been clearing C.J.’s possessions out of his apartment. He had stayed to help, one thing had led to another, and in their grief, they’d come together for the most unforgettable night of his life.
Then why hadn’t it occurred to him that…Cory might be his son?
Because after…it, he’d told Macy to contact him if there was a problem. He’d given her his contact numbers. She’d never called.
He’d always hoped she would.
When they were kids, the age difference had been impossible, but now, as well as five years ago, it was perfectly right. Why hadn’t she contacted him? Was she disgusted because she was trained to heal and he’d been trained to kill? Was that why she’d gone through a pregnancy without letting anyone know and then lying about it?
Block slammed his fist so hard against the table that his milk spilled out of his glass. Cory puckered up his face as if he were about to cry, and Block realized he had to get hold of himself. He took several deep, calming breaths and tried to pull himself together as Gramma grabbed a kitchen towel.
His attempts to calm himself didn’t work. He was mad as hell, and he was going to get to the bottom of this.
He scooted off his chair so fast it fell over. He didn’t care. He had to see Macy. He had to have answers, and he would get them if he had to shake them out of her. No, he couldn’t do that. But he would get his answers.
Gramma swabbed at the spilled milk. “Where you going?”
“I have to talk to Macy,” he said.
“Maybe you should wait till later. Till you’ve calmed down some.”
He stopped in the doorway and glanced over his shoulder. “I think I’ve been kept waiting long enough, don’t you?”
THE MORNING had been busy, but not too busy, Macy thought as she prepared to lock up the clinic. She still had paperwork to do, but she could do it tonight at home. She had half hoped that Alex would be waiting for her, but then he hadn’t asked what time she would be finished. And she hadn’t thought to tell him.
She was such a novice at this dating thing. And, obviously, so was he.
She didn’t know why she was so excited about seeing Alex. If Alex had come back to her five years ago, it could have been the start of something good. But now it was far too late. Not when she had such an important confession to make to him. In a perfect world, Alex would have come back for her long ago, and they’d all be living together happily ever after.
But, she knew all too well that she lived in a far from perfect world.
Now the best Macy could hope for was that they’d work out a fair and equitable custody agreement. It wasn’t anywhere close to the happy ending she’d been looking for five years ago.
She grabbed a stack of patient folders and another stack of insurance forms and tried to occupy herself with them while she waited. The more she did now, the less she’d have to do later at home. As she began to work, someone opened the door.
She looked up a
nd saw Alex. And from the expression on his face, he was angry. Oh God. It was as if her worst fear had come to life. He must have figured it out. He knew! Panic rose in her throat and choked her, and she swallowed, trying to force it back to the pit of her stomach suddenly churning with fear.
Macy pasted a smile on her face and hoped she could bluff her way out of the situation. “I wasn’t sure what time you’d be here to pick me up,” she said with forced cheer. “I can’t decide whether you’re early or late.”
“Well, it may be five years late, but I think it’s pretty damned urgent,” Alex said as he entered the clinic.
Macy’s legs went weak as she backed away to the security of the receptionist’s desk. “Is it your knee?” she asked, knowing full well that it wasn’t.
“Don’t give me that, Dr. Jackson. You know exactly what I’m talking about. And unless you want me to wait till you get home and make a scene in front of Cory and my grandmother, you’d best deal with this here and now,” he said coldly, his voice dripping with venom and ice.
Macy had never seen Alex so angry. And she didn’t like what she saw, but she knew she should have expected it. “What do you want, Alex?” she asked tiredly, although she knew full well what it was.
Alex reached back to the door, closed it and turned the lock. The click of the mechanism echoed with ominous finality. “You didn’t adopt Cory, did you?”
Macy started to answer, but Alex interrupted her.
“He’s your son. Not some unwed mother’s kid you took in.”
She wanted to refute that, but she couldn’t. “He is the son of an unwed mother,” she stated, but even to herself the truth sounded lame!
“This is not the time to play with words. Hell, that time came and went when you made the decision to keep your pregnancy a secret.
“What were you afraid of? That the good people of Lyndonville would think less of you? Did you feel you needed to save your reputation? Hell, they might actually think you’re human instead of some sort of lily-pure angel.” He slammed his fist against the reception counter, and Macy shrank back. “What would they think if they learned that all this time you’d been lying to them?”
“I didn’t lie,” Macy protested. She just hadn’t given them the complete truth, she continued to justify to herself. “Cory’s mother was unwed. And she was trying to figure out what to do with her life. Just like I told everyone.”
“Words, Macy. Just words. Sometimes you have to read between the words to know what they really mean.” Alex’s expression grew as dark as the thunderclouds on the night of the tornado, and he moved closer to her.
Macy didn’t know what to do. Should she blurt out the truth? Tell him she had thought she loved him at the time, but she had been a different person then. All she wanted was some demonstration that he had felt the same for her. The truth was that she had been testing his love, and he had failed the test.
Or should she continue to protest? Alex had all but backed her into a corner with no way out. She sank weakly into the receptionist’s chair. “I’m tired, Alex. I can’t deal with this now.”
“You will, dammit. You’ve had five long years to think about this moment. Surely you have an answer ready for me. You’ve had plenty of time to prepare.
“How long did you think you could keep my son from me?” he growled.
“What makes you think that?” she managed, though she knew exactly what. The moment for truth had been and gone, and she’d missed it.
“Look, Macy. I’ve done the math. His blood type is the same as mine. Hell, Gramma even thinks he looks like me. Why didn’t you tell me you were carrying my son?”
Chapter Six
Macy wanted to run from Alex’s accusing glare, but she felt like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming tractor trailer. Still, she mustered up a shred of courage and gave Alex an answer. “I didn’t think you would care,” she whispered. It was the truth, but after seeing Alex’s reaction this afternoon, she knew that flimsy excuse wouldn’t wash with him.
“Care!” Block exploded. “I told you to contact me if there was a problem.”
“There wasn’t a problem. I had a child. I can support him. There was no problem,” Macy, shoving her hands in her pockets, stubbornly insisted.
Alex closed his hands into tight fists, and seemed to struggle to keep them at his side. He opened and closed them as if he didn’t know what to do. “Okay, you didn’t have a problem,” he ground out through tightly clenched teeth. “Didn’t you think I’d want to know?”
“No, quite frankly, I didn’t,” Macy, chin defiantly tilted upward, answered as calmly as she could. “You’d made it quite clear that the only way you’d ever come back to Lyndonville would be in a pine box like C.J. Well, my home is here. Cory’s home is here. We didn’t need you, and as far as I could tell, you weren’t interested enough to inquire about me.”
That had been the crux of it. She’d wanted him to call first. Macy had meant to call Alex, but the fact that he hadn’t bothered to check on her first had told her volumes. He had proved to her that he was no more interested in taking care of his own child than her father had been.
“I told you to call me. I gave you my contact numbers, some even my family didn’t have. You didn’t think I wanted to know that you were carrying my child?” He paused and seemed to be struggling to maintain what slim grip on composure he had. “You’re going to have to come up with something better than that.”
“You talk big, Alex Blocker, but you’re just like all of them,” Macy fired back. “Just like every man I ever counted on. When push comes to shove, you’re not there when I need you.
“My father promised he would get a good job up north and send for us. He didn’t. C.J. claimed he’d find a way to take care of me, but he left me here and didn’t ever come back. You hated this town so much that you refused to come back, either. Why should I count on you any more than I could count on my own father or brother? You aren’t even kin.”
“For God’s sake, Macy. C.J. died! He didn’t ask that helicopter to crash!” Alex shouted. “It wasn’t his choice. It didn’t have anything to do with you. And I would have been here in a New York minute if I had known.
“I think having a son would have been the best reason I could think of to come back here.
“As far as your father’s concerned, nobody knows what happened to him. There could be all kinds of reasons he didn’t come back.”
“Well, that makes no difference to me now,” Macy argued. “I was still alone. I had to learn to take care of myself. I couldn’t count on anyone but my Aunt Earnestine, and then she died, too.” One of the worst days in her life had been the day she’d realized that even with her medical degree, she hadn’t been able to save her beloved aunt, the only constant in her life. Cancer was not her speciality, and Aunt Earnestine had waited too long to see the specialist Macy had recommended.
Block was so angry he couldn’t stay in the same room with Macy a minute longer. He slammed his fist down on the reception counter, sending a pile of charts sliding to the floor. There was no way he could stand there and listen to Macy’s flimsy excuses. There was no way he could stand there and not…Hell, he didn’t know what he wanted to do. But, right now, he couldn’t be responsible for what he said. Or did.
He had to get out of here. He had to think. He turned, unlocked the door and stepped outside. “We aren’t through with this, Macy,” he muttered over his shoulder. “We aren’t finished with this discussion by a long shot.” Then he slammed the door behind him and hurried down the steps. Instead of getting into his SUV, though, he decided to run.
Anything to expend, expunge, some of the anger welling up inside him. If he didn’t release some of this steam, he would surely blow up like Mount Saint Helens. He’d never be able to deal with Macy and…this…this situation rationally.
He had a son!
Not knowing where he would end up or how long it would take, Block set off in a hard run.
&nb
sp; As he ran, he tried to think. He had a son! It wasn’t as if he didn’t have enough decisions to make already. After eighteen years in the air force, he’d come to know himself as Senior Master Sergeant Block Blocker, decorated combat controller and all-around great American. He was still grappling with the notion that part of his life was over. He was still adjusting to the idea of Alex Blocker, recruiter and soon-to-be civilian. Now he had to slip into another identity.
He had a son!
He was a father!
AFTER LONG MOMENTS of indecision, Macy decided she had to finish the conversation. She hadn’t heard Alex’s car start up so she thought he might still be there. Maybe he was cooling off in his car.
She opened the door to the clinic to call him back and looked out. “Alex, what are—” All she saw was his back as he sprinted away. “—you going to do?” she finished softly. Macy drew in a deep sigh. Maybe he’ll have calmed down by the time he returned for his car, she thought as she carefully locked up the clinic. But if he hadn’t, she wanted to be well out of his way.
Maybe he’ll realize that I did the right thing for me at the time, Macy tried to convince herself as she climbed into her car and pulled away.
But if he didn’t, she was going to be out of reach until he came to his senses. She was going to stay out of his way until he reached the right conclusion. She drove straight to Willadean’s house and hurried in to collect her child.
She knocked on the door and then went in. “Cory? Are you ready to go?” she called as she stepped inside.
She knew that Willadean was going to have questions, but she hoped she could dodge them for now. She still had a lot of thinking to do, and she figured she owed it to Alex to try to explain it to him before she spoke to his grandmother.
“What’s your hurry, Macy?” Willadean asked as Cory scrambled down from the kitchen table.
“We made cookies, Mama, and Unca Alex and me tested them out. They was real good.”
Willadean stood there, her hands on her hips, her lips pursed in a censuring expression. At least she hadn’t asked any questions. Yet.
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