by Amy Clipston
He held the glass frozen in midair and watched his wife, trying to understand what was bothering her. “What’s wrong?”
She set her fork down next to her plate and studied him. “I have never in my life been on the receiving end of handouts.” She pointed toward the bowl of green beans. “This meal isn’t the only thing she’s given us.” She began counting items off on her fingers. “She also gave us a crib, a changing table, a snowsuit, a stroller, and baby toys.” Then she pointed toward the coal stove. “And she gave us quilts so we don’t freeze to death. I wasn’t this cold when I was living in the dorm and the windows wouldn’t close all the way.”
Mia lanced him with another murderous expression. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was to admit to her that we didn’t have any food for supper other than some boxed mac and cheese and canned soup?”
Chace placed the glass on the table as his hands began to shake. He took slow, deep breaths in an attempt to calm down before he said something he’d regret.
“How can you expect us to live here? It’s so cold that I’m surprised Katie isn’t already sick. There’s no electricity so I can’t even plug in a small heater to try to warm our bedroom up for her naps. There’s no phone, and I’m completely cut off from the world since we couldn’t afford to keep our cell phones. What am I supposed to do if there’s an emergency? Am I expected to run to the nearest hospital since I sold my car in an effort to pay some of the bills?”
“There is a phone,” Chace muttered as angry heat crept up his neck.
“There is?” She fixed him with an incredulous stare. “Where?”
“By the barn. The Amish have phones. They just aren’t in their houses.”
“Well, you’ve fixed one of my four-dozen problems. How do we fix the rest of them?”
“I’m doing the best I can.” He kneaded the tense muscles in his neck with his fingers. “I don’t know what else I can do.”
Just then Kaitlyn started to wail. With a sigh, Mia pushed back her chair and left the kitchen.
Chace stared down at his empty plate, the food souring in his stomach. Guilt and dread clawed up his sore back as Mia’s hateful words echoed through his mind. He felt as if he were sixteen years old again and standing in front of Buck Richards, the most callous and critical foster father Chace had endured since his mother died and he was hurled into the foster care system when he was four.
“You’ll never amount to anything, Chace, because you have no ambition. You’ll just look for the easy way out. I’d bet you’ll rob convenience stores, shoot the clerks, and then wind up in jail for life, just like your worthless father.”
Chace had promised himself he’d prove Buck wrong, but it seemed an impossible feat. Pressing his fingers to his eyes, Chace swallowed against the emotion lodging in his throat.
The sound of Kaitlyn’s gurgle brought him back to the present as Mia returned to the kitchen with her balanced on one hip.
“Hi, baby girl.” He forced a smile as Kaitlyn gnawed on her thumb and blew happy spit bubbles. “How was your day, Katie-Bug?”
“Feel her leg.” She angled the baby toward him. “Feel how cold she is.”
Chace pressed his lips together as he touched the leg of Kaitlyn’s sleeper. It was cold.
“I don’t see how this can be healthy. She’s going to wind up sick one of these days.” Mia lifted the baby seat with one hand and placed it on the table. She set Kaitlyn in the seat and buckled the straps. Kaitlyn responded with a happy gurgle.
“So then why don’t you call your parents and ask for help?” The question leaped from Chace’s lips before he could stop it. He held his breath, awaiting her eruption. The subject of her parents always sent Mia over the edge. She hadn’t spoken to her parents since the day Kaitlyn was born, and from what little Mia had divulged, the conversation hadn’t made any strides toward changing their decision to disown Mia.
“You know the answer to that question.” She ground out the words.
He stood as renewed frustration grabbed him by the throat. “Maybe your parents would change their minds if they saw their beautiful grandchild.” He pointed at Kaitlyn. “How could they possibly resist her?”
“It won’t work.” She gestured wildly with her hands as her brown eyes sparkled with tears. “I could send them a portfolio of professional photos of Kaitlyn and they still would refuse to help us.”
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Maybe it’s time for you to let go of your pride for the sake of our child and ask your father to give us a loan until we’re back on our feet.”
“Let go of my pride?” Her voice quavered and her eyes narrowed to slits. “My pride has nothing to do with how my parents feel about my decisions.”
A single tear trickled down her cheek, and his chest constricted. He’d done it again. He’d lost his temper and made her cry.
“Mee, I’m sorry.” He reached for her, but she stepped back and out of his reach. “Why don’t you sit down and finish your supper with me? I want to hear about your day.”
“I have nothing else to say to you.” Mia shook her head and stomped off to the bedroom, leaving Chace staring down at Kaitlyn as she kicked her feet and blew bubbles.
Chace touched Kaitlyn’s toe as Buck’s words reverberated in his mind again. His shoulders slumped. He wasn’t worthy of Mia or this beautiful baby.
He handed Kaitlyn the pacifier that hung on a clip attached to her sleeper and then carried the dishes to the sink. As it filled with hot water, Chace peered out the small window and stared toward Isaac’s house. Will I ever be the husband Mia deserves?
Mia sat on the edge of the bed and buried her face in her hands as angry tears splattered down her hot cheeks. She took deep, slow breaths. Be strong, Mia! Calm down! Soon her tears stopped, and she hugged her arms to her waist.
Her gaze moved across the room to a framed photograph sitting on top of the small bureau. In the photo, Mia and Chace stood arm in arm on the beach, their smiles wide as waves crashed behind them and the sunset bathed the sky in vivid streaks of orange, pink, and yellow. Her heart thumped as she recalled that beach trip. It was Memorial Day weekend, and she and Chace had been dating for a month. Shortly after that photo was taken, Chace told her he loved her for the first time. Back then life was simple. Mia was in college studying to become a teacher, and Chace was working for a construction company. Their future was bright with endless possibilities.
So much had changed in a matter of almost two years. Now their future was uncertain and bleak. She’d spent the day trying to convince herself she was doing the best she could as a mother, but that voice at the back of her mind kept taunting her with her mother’s words: “You’ll be a horrible mother.” She had to prove her mother wrong. But how?
Her conversation with Chace replayed in her mind, and her body shuddered with a mixture of frustration and guilt. She could feel the pain in Chace’s eyes when she yelled at him, listing everything wrong with the cabin and their lives. She longed for Chace to understand her parents weren’t going to help them.
Mia’s painful conversation with her mother after Kaitlyn’s birth was still fresh in her mind. She called to tell her the baby had been born and asked her if she was ready to be the grandmother Kaitlyn needed and deserved. Her mother’s response was, “I’ll be ready to be her grandmother when you’re ready to face the fact that Chace can’t give you and your baby the life you both deserve.”
When her mother refused to acknowledge Kaitlyn or accept Chace as her husband, Mia burst into tears, telling her mom she was still the cold, superficial woman she’d always been, and then Mia disconnected the call.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Mia pressed her fingers to her forehead. She was just as self-centered as her mother when she blamed Chace for their current situation. She and Chace were in this together. They were a team. More important, they were a family. Chace had been telling her the truth when he said he was doing the best he could. She had to apologize to
him.
Shoving herself off the bed, Mia wiped her hands down her cheeks and hurried out of the bedroom. Chace was washing dishes at the kitchen sink. Without much forethought, she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him and burying her face into his back.
He gasped and then his body relaxed.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice wavering. “I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” He spun and gathered her in his arms as soon as he rinsed and dried his hands. “I’m sorry too, Mee.”
Mia smiled at the sound of the nickname he’d given her when they first started dating. She looked up at him and her lower lip trembled. “I’m sorry for dumping on you after you worked hard all day for Katie and me. I didn’t mean it.” She looped her arms around his neck.
“It’s all right.” He trailed a fingertip down her cheek. “No more tears.”
She cleared her throat. “We’re in this together, right?”
“Always. And I will do everything in my power to take care of you and Katie.” Dipping his chin, he brushed his lips over hers, sending shivers of electricity dancing down her spine. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Closing her eyes, she hoped they would make it somehow.
Chace perched on a stool and sipped a bottle of water as the sweet smell of new wood and stain wafted over him. He’d spent all morning sanding cabinets. Although he listened to music on his ancient iPod while he worked, he couldn’t stop his brain from focusing on Mia’s parents. Could he talk to Mia’s father man-to-man and somehow convince him to loan Chace money? He didn’t want a handout from Mia’s parents; he only wanted a little help getting back on his feet.
He studied the cabinet on his workbench as the idea filtered through his thoughts. It seemed a reasonable enough request, but a tiny twinge of warning rang through his head. Mia would be furious if she found out I spoke to her father.
Chace blew out a resigned sigh in agreement with his inner voice. Yes, she would be, but it was his responsibility to take care of his family.
My very own family.
He’d dreamt of having his own family since he was a child, and now that he had one, he would do anything in his power to preserve it. If that meant begging Mia’s father for help, then he would do it.
When the other workers in the shop left for lunch, Chace approached the front office.
“Isaac.” Chace leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. “I was wondering if I could use your phone book and phone for a few minutes.”
“Of course.” Isaac pulled a phone book out of one of the bottom drawers and set it on the desk. “Take your time. I’ll be in the break room.”
“Thanks,” Chace said as Isaac moved past him, disappearing into the hallway. He appreciated how Isaac respected his privacy. Isaac had never pressed Chace to share why he had needed a place to live. He never accused or admonished Chace about the dire situation. Instead, he’d offered the cabin, asking how much Chace could comfortably afford to pay for rent.
Chace sat down at the desk, opened the phone book, located the phone number for Whitfield, Price & Morgan Attorneys at Law, and dialed. His heart was in his throat when a woman answered.
“Thank you for calling Whitfield, Price and Morgan. How may I direct your call?”
“May I please speak to Walter Whitfield?” Chace hoped he sounded confident despite the anxiety threading through him.
The woman paused. “May I ask who is calling?”
“Chace O’Conner.” He worried his lower lip.
“And what is the nature of your call, Mr. O’Conner?”
“I’m his son-in-law. It’s an urgent family matter.”
“Oh. I will transfer you right away. Just a moment, please, Mr. O’Conner.”
“Thank you.” Chace kneaded one temple and mentally rehearsed what he would say to Walter. He’d met Walter a few times while he and Mia dated. Walter had been polite, but he radiated a palpable air of arrogance and disapproval.
“This is Walter Whitfield.” Walter’s deep, no-nonsense voice rang over the line.
Chace froze, doubt stealing his courage. Hang up now before you ruin Mia’s chances of ever reconciling with her parents!
“Chace?” Walter sighed. “Are you there?”
“Yes, I am.” Chace cleared his throat. “Thank you for taking my call.”
“Is something wrong with Mia?”
For a brief moment, Chace was impressed. So Mia’s father has a conscience?
“Mia is fine, and so is our daughter.” Chace ground out the words as anger replaced his surprise. “Did you know your granddaughter’s name is Kaitlyn Leanne? Leanne is after my mother. She died when I was four.” When Walter didn’t respond, Chace continued. “Our baby is five months old now. She has blue eyes and blond hair. I thought she’d have dark hair and eyes like Mia, but she actually has my coloring. But she definitely has Mia’s smile. She’s the prettiest baby I’ve ever seen. I suppose I’m biased since I’m her father. You should understand that.”
Chace wound the phone cord around his finger. “I’d love to send photos to you and Mrs. Whitfield.” He could ask one of his coworkers to take a photo and text it to Walter since Chace no longer had a cell phone. “Would you like to see photos of the granddaughter you’ve never met?”
“What do you want?”
“I want to talk to you man-to-man.”
“Look, my wife and I feel it’s best if we stay out of Mia’s life.”
“I know that, and I didn’t expect this phone call to change that.”
“So what do you want then? Is it money?”
Chace grimaced. He hated how that sounded. “Not exactly,” he said, hedging. “I want to ask for a loan. I just need some help getting back on my feet, and I will repay you with interest. When Kaitlyn was born she spent five days in the NICU. The bills on top of her delivery itself have been daunting, but if I could just get—”
“Are you saying you can’t support my daughter on your construction-worker salary?”
Walter’s sneer radiated through the phone. Chace silently counted to ten, keeping his thoughts focused on Mia and Kaitlyn instead of allowing his anger to destroy any chance of convincing Walter to help them.
“I’m only asking you for a loan,” Chace repeated, the receiver trembling in his hand.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. Give Mia my love.”
Before Chace could respond, the line went dead. Chace slammed the receiver onto the cradle and heaved the phone book across the room. The heavy book smacked the wall before landing in a heap by the door.
He leaned over the desk, folded his arms, and rested his forehead on them as he fought back his embittered tears. He’d reached a new low. Not only had he betrayed Mia by going against her wishes, but he’d failed to help his family. No matter what Chace tried to do, he failed. How was he going to face Mia tonight? And what would she say when she learned he had called her father?
Renewed worry and frustration surged through Chace. How could things get any worse?
CHAPTER 4
Mia sucked in a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face as hope and determination coursed through her. “This is my first attempt at meat loaf.” She brought a loaf pan to the table and set it on a trivet beside a bowl with leftover green beans. Chace kept his stormy blue eyes focused on his glass of water.
Since he’d arrived home nearly thirty minutes ago, Chace hadn’t said anything other than his customary, “How are my favorite girls?” After kissing Kaitlyn’s head, he’d washed his hands and then dropped into his seat at the table, staring at the plate and scowling. Mia tried to coax him into a conversation by asking about his day and even asking if he was upset with her. He, however, remained reticent.
Although worry had her stomach tied in knots, Mia kept smiling as she cut a piece of meat loaf and dropped it onto Chace’s plate. Her smile dissolved as she examined the bottom of the loaf.
“It’s burned.” Her s
houlders sagged. She’d gotten chop meat from Vera and planned to pay her for it when Chace received his next paycheck on Friday. She’d used a cookbook from Goodwill to mix up the meat loaf, but lost track of time taking care of the baby and left it in the oven too long.
Mia dropped a piece of meat loaf onto her own plate and bit her lower lip. Her plan to impress Chace with a nice meal had gone up in smoke. “It’s probably not that good. I guess I have a lot to learn.”
Chace studied the meat loaf. He cut off a piece and then moved it to the side of his plate. “That’s no surprise since your mother never cooked. I guess she expected you to have a housekeeper like she did. Why learn to cook when you can pay someone to make the meals?”
Mia gaped at him. Had she heard him correctly? She started to deliver a cutting retort but then closed her mouth as worry pushed away her anger. Had something happened to Chace today? Had he lost his job? Her stomach roiled at the thought of facing Chace’s unemployment for the second time in less than a year. She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. She and Chace were married and had a baby. They had to face their problems together as a united force.
Instead of yelling at him, she had to ease him into a conversation. She had to offer support, not sardonic responses.
“Did you have a bad day at work?” Her tone was cautious.
He shrugged as he turned his attention to Kaitlyn in her baby seat on the table beside him. A swarm of emotions hurdled across his handsome face as he rubbed Kaitlyn’s foot, watching her suck on her pacifier. Mia saw anger, disappointment, sadness, and regret brewing in his expression.
As the silence stretched like a great chasm between them, Mia twirled her fork in her fingers and searched for something to spark a conversation. “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night, and I realized you’re right.”
His eyebrows rose, but he kept his eyes focused on Kaitlyn. He rubbed her leg and then took her tiny hand in his. The tenderness in his touch and his love for their daughter stole Mia’s words for a moment.
“I’ve already sold my car and most of my jewelry.” She stared down at the thin gold band on her left ring finger. “I also sold my designer clothes and purses at that consignment shop, so I don’t have anything left to sell.”