MACY PUT DOWN the phone, almost feeling guilty for picking it up. How many times today had she started to call Henry Schaeffer, the only lawyer in town, to consult with him about her situation with Alex? And how many times had she hung up before anyone had picked up the phone?
She didn’t want to drag Cory into court and air her dirty linen in front of the town. She didn’t want Alex to sue her for custody. But she didn’t want to face a fight, if there was one, unprepared. Unarmed, she supposed. But so far she hadn’t had the nerve to complete the call. Somehow she believed if she called a lawyer it would be an admission that they couldn’t work it out like adults. It would be admitting that she had done something wrong instead of trying to do what she had thought best at the time. Macy sighed and picked up the chart she’d just used and prepared to stack it with the rest of today’s files.
At least this week, business in the clinic had returned pretty much to the normal level, Macy thought as she stepped out of Exam 1 and discovered that there was no file waiting in the bracket by the door of Exam 2. She breathed a silent cheer.
On the one hand, she was grateful for the occasional break between patients. On the other, these little breaks just gave her more time to think.
And worry.
Bettina peered around the corner from her spot at the reception desk. “You look like something the cat dragged in. Maybe you should take a break since there’s nobody waiting right now.”
Macy raised an eyebrow. She knew just how bad she looked, but having someone else remind her wasn’t that great. “Thank you so much, Bettina,” she answered wryly. “My allergies have been bothering me,” she lied, referring to her still red and swollen eyes. “I think I’ll take you up on that.” Maybe if she sat quietly in her office and laid a cold cloth on her eyes, some of the swelling would go down.
“I’ll just go get a cold drink and lie down for a few minutes.” She turned and was halfway down the hall to the break room, when she turned back. “Call me when the next patient comes in.”
“Will do, Doc,” Bettina said.
As Macy trudged to the back of the clinic, she heard Bettina mutter something else. It sounded like she said, “Allergies, my aunt Sally. It’s that too-good-looking-for-words Alex Blocker that’s got you tied up in knots. Why don’t you just admit it?”
“HOO-AH!” Block cheered the all-purpose airborne expression as he hung up the phone. The word could mean anything, but today it was a joyful cheer. “Hoo-ah!” he cheered again.
The phone call had been from Jennifer Larsen, and it had brought good news. At least, in one way it was good news. It sure explained why Cornealius Jackson had not returned to Lyndonville for his children.
Gramma looked at him from the kitchen doorway. “What does that mean?”
Block danced over to her and swung her around, then squeezed her in a hug and kissed her on top of her grizzled head. “It means that Corny Jackson didn’t abandon his family.” It might mean that he’d be able to convince Macy that she hadn’t been so unlovable that no man would hang around for the long haul.
“How do you know?” Gramma said, stepping back to look up at him.
“That was Jennifer Larsen, the private investigator I asked to look into Cornealius Jackson’s disappearance. She found what happened to him.”
“Praise be,” Gramma said, her face wreathed in smiles. “Where’s he been all this time?”
“I can’t tell you. At least, not yet. Not until I tell Macy first.”
Gramma’s smile dimmed. “I understand, but don’t keep me waiting too long.”
“I’ll try not to, but Jennifer is going to mail me some photocopies, so I can’t even talk to Macy until I have tangible proof.” He tried not to grin like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it. “If I can prove to her that her father didn’t abandon her, maybe she won’t be so standoffish, running hot and cold with me all the time. Maybe she won’t continue to transfer her anger and hurt about her father to me.”
“What makes you think she’s done that?” Gramma asked.
Block didn’t have to think hard to give her an answer. “She all but told me so, Gramma. She said all the men in her life kept leaving her. Her father did, C.J. did. And, as far as she’s concerned, so did I.
“I have to prove to her that I didn’t leave her. She left me by not letting me know about my son. And C.J. died. He didn’t have a choice about it. And now that I’ve heard from Jennifer Larsen, I can prove that Corny didn’t leave her, either. I just have to wait until the proof gets here, so she’ll believe me.”
Gramma nodded, her face grim. “I always thought that there had to be a good reason why Cornealius didn’t come back for them children, but I didn’t have a way of finding out what happened. Now that you have, it’s a wonderful thing. Not just for Macy’s sake, but for Ty’s, too. After all, he lost both his mother and father when he was a baby, and I know he has to wonder.”
Block hadn’t even considered Macy’s younger brother in this equation, but he supposed that Ty had a stake in it, too. Still, Block figured he had the most to win or lose, so he just hoped his would be the thing that proved to Macy that she had been worthy of her father’s love and his, as well.
Whatever he did, Block figured he would have plenty of time to work on it till the paperwork got here. And he would be seeing her at Gramma’s birthday party tomorrow night. Surely, Macy wouldn’t give him the cold shoulder there.
Chapter Ten
Odd, Macy thought as she ushered Cory across the grass from Willadean’s to her own house. She detoured by way of the mailbox to get the day’s mail, then hurried up the walk to the house. Alex hadn’t been at Willadean’s, but that didn’t mean anything. She knew he had to be around because his red SUV was parked right where it always was: on the road behind Willadean’s old Buick. She wondered if he was avoiding her, but then decided she didn’t care. She was grateful not to have to endure the tension and censure she felt every time she was near him. Especially now that he knew the truth about Cory.
She had to ask. “Cory, what did you and Uncle Alex do today? Anything?” She held her breath as she unlocked the door. Please don’t let him have ignored his son all day, she prayed silently.
Cory’s face lit up like Christmas morning. “Oh, Mom. It was so much fun. We played football. He showed me how to frow a ball. I can frow real good.” His happy expression faltered, and Macy hoped it wasn’t because Alex had criticized him for not being able to throw far or hard. What did that spit-and-polish sergeant know about children anyway?
Cory drew in a deep breath. “I couldn’t frow so far,” he said, then his big brown eyes lit up again. “But Unca Alex said I did real good, and when I get bigger I can frow just like a football player on TV.”
Macy’s eyes filled with tears as she pushed the door open. Why was it that every time she thought she’d found a way to convince herself that Alex was not true father material, he managed to prove her wrong?
Willadean must have let the air conditioner repairman in, for the temperature inside was blessedly cool. Macy hung her lab coat on the coat tree by the door and started for the kitchen, but stopped short when Alex came out, drying his hands on a paper towel. “What are you doing here?” she squeaked, startled.
“Your air conditioner needed work. I took care of it,” he said. “I was just washing up.”
Cory seemed oblivious to the change in the temperature in the room and turned on the television set, then plopped down in front of the screen.
“I didn’t expect you to fix my air conditioner,” Macy protested. “I asked Willadean to let a repairman in for me.”
“I didn’t fix it,” Alex said. “It was beyond repair. The repairman wanted to sell you a deluxe heat pump unit at double the normal price. I sent him packing.”
Macy looked up at Alex, his expression unreadable as a stone. “But it’s so cool in here. What did you do?” Only then did she look around and see that the unit that filled the window on the far side of the
living room was new. “Where did that come from?”
“I drove over to Darlington,” he said, avoiding her eyes. He looked longingly at Cory, still lounging on the floor. “They had a clearance sale at the mall, and I bought a new one.”
“You didn’t have to buy it for me. I don’t need your charity. I have money. I can repay you,” Macy said, reaching for her purse. If she put off the phone bill for another week, she might be able to cover the cost of a new unit.
Alex crossed his arms over his chest and glowered, looking more like a dark Mr. Clean than a Boy Scout who had done his good deed for the day. “I didn’t do it for you. I did it for my s—” He glanced over at Cory. “I did it for him.
“You’ve paid for everything all his life. It’s time I started catching up.”
Macy felt her face grow warm, and she turned away, an unfamiliar moistness in her eyes. She blinked furiously to clear them. “I—I don’t know what to say,” she finally managed.
“A thank you will suffice,” Alex said curtly, then he brushed past her to the door. “Gramma wants me to pick something up for her at the store.” He seemed to be pointedly avoiding looking Macy in the eye, but he called to Cory. “See ya later, sport.”
“See you later,” Cory parroted, not taking his eyes off the television screen.
“Thank you,” Macy said, her voice thick.
“Yeah,” Alex muttered. “Later.” Then he strode out the door without a backward glance.
Wondering at Alex’s curtness on top of his act of kindness, Macy watched him until he’d climbed into his SUV and drove away. She couldn’t figure him out. One minute he was warm and open, then next he was cold as an iceberg. Macy took a moment to gather herself, then sorted through the mail. Noting that it was mostly circulars, she dropped it on the end table and headed for the kitchen to prepare supper.
She gathered the ingredients for a simple casserole and assembled them on the counter by the sink. As she was putting the final touches on the dish, she happened to glance out the window. As soon as she had, she wondered just how casual her glance had been.
For she could see, there in Gramma Willadean’s kitchen window, Alex, back from the store, in glorious, living color. Her breath caught in her throat. Did that man ever have a moment when he didn’t look so darned handsome?
He was obviously clowning around with Willadean as he helped her get supper ready. Even through two windows and across two yards, she could see his glorious smile.
Her heart melted as she watched the patently domestic scene. She swallowed, her throat tight with emotion. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if sh—
“Mama, when are we gonna have supper? I’m starvin’ hongry.”
Macy jerked her gaze from the window and looked guiltily down at the casserole she had made and forgotten to put in the oven. How long had she been standing there staring at Alex and daydreaming like a schoolgirl when she should have been thinking about Cory’s needs? If this was love, she didn’t need it.
Could she be falling in love with Alex Blocker all over again?
Or had she never stopped?
“WHY WE BRINGING Gramma’s present over now, Mama?” Cory said as Macy took the gaily wrapped package off the shelf in the coat closet. “Her party’s not till supper time.”
Macy placed the package into Cory’s hands. “You be careful with this now, you hear? We don’t want the wrappings to get torn.”
“I’ll be careful, Mama. I won’t drop it. But you still didn’t say why we’re taking it over now,” Cory persisted, holding the gift carefully in front of him.
Macy could see that Cory expected an answer, and she knew her son well enough that she knew he’d pester her until she gave him one. She looked down at him and let out a long, slow sigh. “I might have to work late tonight and miss part of the party,” she said, truly regretful. “I want to make sure Gramma gets her gift even if I’m not there.” She gathered her purse and bag and opened the front door.
“Let’s go. You don’t want Mama to be late for work.” Truth was, she wasn’t planning to be at the party at all, and, fortunately, paperwork piling up from the aftermath of the storm was as good an excuse as any to keep her in the office.
Cory followed her outside, his lips pressed together as he concentrated on holding the gift out in front of him as if it would explode if he dropped it. He had a disappointed look on his little face, but Cory knew that her job was important and that sometimes she had to work at night. He’d understand.
She wasn’t sure Willadean would.
Macy really didn’t want to miss Willadean’s party, but she wasn’t ready for another dose of Alex Blocker. Not after the cold shoulder he’d given her last night. Even a house full of party guests would do nothing to dilute the strong attraction she had for him. Why did she always seem to burn hot for him when he was cold? She sure wished there was a way she could vaccinate herself against Alex so that she could attend this important occasion in Willadean’s life.
She would be sure that Cory was there. That was the best she could do. After all, he was Willadean’s great-grandson, even if most of the other people there didn’t know it. But she’d stay away. It was better that way, she told herself again as she ushered Cory across the dewy lawns, sparkling in the morning sun.
Until she got to the point where she was thinking clearly about the matter of Alex Blocker and his part in Cory’s future, she didn’t want to face the man.
She knew she was taking the coward’s way out. She really needed to face Alex. They needed to talk, to get to an understanding. They had to clear up that enormous misunderstanding that had created it all. If only…
If only, she told herself, she’d stop thinking about if only.
For now, she had a very real, very handsome, very angry man to face, and she wasn’t ready for that. She wasn’t sure she could be calm enough, rational enough to work it out.
Of course, the real reason she didn’t want to attend the party was that Alex Blocker was way too potent to ignore, to resist. And she was too confused to be in the same room with him right now. One minute she didn’t want to have anything to do with him, then the next she wanted to make love. She had no idea, from one minute to the next, how she’d react with him so close.
Macy knocked on the door and steeled herself to break it gently to Willadean that she would not be at the party later.
BLOCK WAITED, motionless, in the kitchen doorway and listened as Macy made her excuses to Gramma about why she wouldn’t be at the party tonight. The longer he listened, the angrier he became.
He knew Macy could see him, but she avoided making eye contact. She stood there looking as if ice wouldn’t melt in her mouth, lying to his grandmother like a pro. And she had the nerve to suggest that the men in her life had never given her a square deal!
What about him? What kind of square deal had she given him?
And what about Cory? Didn’t she think she owed her child the truth about who he really was?
He didn’t believe the story Macy was telling for a minute, but he was pretty sure he knew why she was planning to stay away. The same reasons he had for wanting her there.
Did Macy really distrust him so much that the idea of allowing their son to spend time with him was an impossible solution? Block found that difficult to believe, considering the way she had responded to him that night in the clinic, or even the next day when he’d brought her lunch. Block thought—okay, hoped—that she was trying to work out her feelings about her attraction to him, not what to do with Cory.
And he still hoped he could win some points with her when she saw that report from Jennifer Larsen about what had really happened to her father. He hadn’t been able to show it to her because he’d been waiting for the photocopies—he knew that Macy would require solid documentation. But she’d underestimated the persistence of a combat controller. And if documentation was necessary, he’d have it. In that regard, he knew exactly what to do.
If he’d known what to do five
years ago, they might not be in this mess now. If only he’d just called Macy himself instead of waiting to hear from her.
He shook his head in exasperation. It was just too damned easy to be a Monday-morning quarterback. It was making the right play in the middle of the game that counted. He felt more for Macy than for any other woman he’d known, and since he’d last seen Macy five years ago, she’d only grown better. He’d always loved her hanging around him and C.J. when they were kids, even when she’d been a pest at times. Maybe he’d cared for her, even back then. He laughed bitterly to himself. He was going to have to try something drastic or he would lose her.
If he’d ever had her at all.
All he could do now, he realized, was to toss the ball and hope that Macy caught it.
As soon as Macy kissed Cory goodbye and stepped out the front door, he slipped out the back door and made it around to the front yard before she’d reached her car. He slipped quietly up behind her and touched her arm.
Macy reacted with a startled gasp. Block supposed he could have made more noise approaching or cleared his throat, but he’d wanted to put her off guard. It seemed that he’d succeeded.
She jerked her arm away as if it had been burned and dropped her bags. She clutched at her chest. “What do you mean sneaking up on a woman like that, Alex Blocker?” she demanded when she’d composed herself.
Block was truly sorry that he’d frightened her, but at the time he’d been angry, too angry to think rationally. Now, looking at her in the soft morning light, all he could think of was tangled sheets and heated nights. He tried to still the tightening in his groin that seemed a constant whenever he looked at her. “Try to make it to Gramma’s party tonight,” he growled. “She’s counting on you being there. She’s always thought of you as family. Now even more. If you don’t want to do it for me, do it for her. I won’t bother you.”
Macy looked up at him, her greenish-hazel eyes wide and unblinking. She swallowed, moistened her lips, then swallowed again. “I really do have work to catch up on this afternoon, Alex,” she said. “But, if I finish early enough, I’ll try to make an appearance.”
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