Their Surprise Daddy

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Their Surprise Daddy Page 15

by Ruth Logan Herne


  And she was gone.

  * * *

  Rory read the text just before ten that night. She walked outside, past the trees, past the town lights and read it again, under the thick blanket of stars.

  Mom has passed away. I’ll be over in the morning to tell the children. Steve is helping with details.

  She was glad he had Steve close by. She was glad he’d had time to make amends with his mother. But she would miss her cantankerous old friend. And with Rosa gone, Cruz would have no reason not to sell out quickly, pack the kids’ bags and head back to New York.

  Rosa’s death would impact the children in a myriad of ways. They would miss the only grandmother figure they’d ever known. They would miss the countryside they laughed and played in. But the court order insisting on supervised visits with the children would be removed, and then what? Did Javi and Lily go to Cruz by default?

  She could only hope and pray that was the choice. Cruz loved them. It was clear in every interaction. He’d figure out the little stuff in time, the ins and outs of raising kids, but he had the means and the love and he was family. Surely the court wouldn’t insist on anything else. Would it?

  She couldn’t sleep. Was he faring any better?

  Probably not.

  * * *

  By the time the children got up in the morning, the last thing she wanted to do was put on a happy face for the final day of summer pre-K, but she did it. And when Cruz arrived just after eight o’clock, her mother let him in with a hug.

  “Hey.” He sat on the bench along the back of the table. The kids faced him, bright-eyed and excited, but when Lily looked at him, her bright smile faded.

  “Is our Mimi gone?” The words came out low. She held Cruz’s gaze. Her chin quivered. His throat convulsed, and Rory slipped down to the floor next to Lily and grasped her hand. “She’s gone home to heaven to be with God. With your mama, too.”

  “Like your dad?” Lily aimed the question to Cruz, but held tight to Rory’s hand.

  He nodded. “She’s with my dad now. They’re all together.”

  “But we can still go see her after school, right?” Javi glanced from one to the other, confused. “’Cause you pwomised us.”

  “We can’t, darling.” Rory pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  “But you pwomised.” Javi slipped off his seat and threw a scrap of toast onto the table. “Last night we wanted to see our Mimi and you pwomised we’d see her today. I heard you!”

  Rory wished she could take back their casually spoken words from the night before, but it was too late.

  Javi raced through the screen door, into the yard. He kicked the picnic table again and again, a sad, angry little fellow, not knowing what just happened to turn his life upside down again.

  “I’ll go.” Cruz stood up. He leaned down and kissed Lily’s cheek. “We’ll be okay, honey. I promise.”

  She didn’t look up at him. She didn’t look anywhere. Eyes down, she stared at the kitchen table, a little girl who’d heard lots of promises, Rory expected, and many that were broken.

  Cruz walked outside quietly.

  Rory took the seat next to Lily. “I’m sorry, darling.”

  Lily sighed, then shrugged as if this was same old, same old. Her family had been shattered apart through violence and death multiple times. “I’ll call Glenda and have her take the morning class, and I’ll stay here with you.”

  Lily shook her head. She got out of the chair and raised her gaze, her jaw firm. “I want to go to pre-K with you. It’s our special day. I don’t want to miss our special day, Miss Rory.” Solemn and sober, she faced Rory with gumption far beyond her chronological years.

  “But—”

  Kate peeked around the doorway from the living room. She waved to Rory, and when Rory looked her way, she made a slicing motion across her neck to indicate she should cut the conversation.

  Since she had precious little experience with small children and death, she took her mother’s advice. “Then that’s what we’ll do, honey. Let’s get our stuff together.”

  She walked out of the house with Lily a few minutes later. Javi raced her way, ignoring Cruz. He grabbed her hand and clung tight. “Are we g-g-going to school now?”

  She nodded, but gave him one last chance. “Unless you’d rather stay with Cruz this morning? I’m sure he’d love to have your company.”

  “No.” Javi didn’t look at Cruz. He looked up at her and held on tight to her hand. “No, I just want to be wif you, Miss Wory.”

  Her heart ached. Her throat went tight, because she loved these two children and they’d just suffered another grievous loss in the midst of chaos. They’d be gone soon, and Cruz would be gone soon, and maybe that was their destiny. If so, she’d wish nothing but the best for them. But for the moment, this one last day of school, she was willing to keep their morning as normal as possible. “Then we’ll see Cruz after our celebration, okay?”

  Javi didn’t look convinced that he wanted to see Cruz. Was he angry at him for Rosa’s death? Or just mad that he would never have a chance to see her?

  “Okay.” Lily clung tight, whispered the word and didn’t look up.

  Rory did.

  Sorrow deepened Cruz’s gaze. He looked down at the kids, and didn’t try to push them to change their minds. He just nodded and said, “I’ll pick you up after school.”

  The two kids exchanged looks and trudged forward, eyes down, and it was a somber trio taking the stroll up to the White Church one last time.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rory hadn’t thought her heart could ache this much, but it did.

  It hadn’t rained in weeks prior to Rosa’s passing, but it didn’t just rain the day of her funeral. It poured.

  A large tent was erected in the hillside cemetery, but wind-whipped rain darkened an already somber occasion.

  The next morning Judge Murdoch awarded Cruz custody of the children. It was the right thing to do, but Rory had grown accustomed to their funny flip-flopped sleeping schedules, the earnest chatter and the joyful squeals of innocence. But right now, with Rosa gone and their future unsure, there hadn’t been many happy outbursts. The brother-and-sister duo would play, smile, then remember...and the looks of joy would fade.

  She’d overseen their packing, and she’d made sure Gator was tucked into Javi’s bag. She’d packed their favorite books, a list of best-loved foods and the jar of Fluff for peanut-butter and Fluff sandwiches, a new culinary delight. Then she’d kissed them soundly and had her father drive them up to Casa Blanca.

  If she drove them, she’d cry.

  If Cruz came here, she’d cry.

  She hated crying in front of people, so why torture herself? This way she could wipe her tears in peace, and if she went through two full boxes of tissues in three days, well, then she’d thank God she had two full boxes.

  She’d submitted her grant application, having cited two possible locations she probably couldn’t afford, and she’d sent out her résumé to three area elementary schools. Few positions popped open in August, but every once in a while one did, and she intended to be ready if called for an interview. After all, she scolded herself for probably the fifth time that day, she had so much to be grateful for.

  Her father was in remission and back home. Her mother was on hand to help at Kate & Company, which left Rory with free time on her hands, something that hadn’t happened in the past two years. And little Dave was just about the cutest thing she’d ever seen. She busied herself with him as much as she could, and refused to think of Javi and Lily, moving off to New York; of Casa Blanca, empty and fading once again; or of Cruz, finding himself at home in the crazy, frenetic chaos of Manhattan. Just because it wasn’t her thing didn’t make it less wonderful for the kids.

  She knew that.

  She
just couldn’t make herself believe it.

  “Rory.” Corinne crossed the yard with her son, Callan, later that week. “Tee is over at Emily’s helping with the twins, and Callan told Dad he’d help him at Rosa’s, but I’ve got a conference call at seven from the hospital. Would you mind running him up to Casa Blanca?”

  “Casa Blanca?” Her heart leaped like a grass frog on a May afternoon. “What’s Dad doing up there?”

  “I guess Cruz needed a couple of last-minute things done on the farm, and Callan offered to help for his eighth-grade service project.”

  Rory laid an arm around her nephew’s shoulders. “That’s awesome, dude.”

  Color bit his cheeks. His sister, Tee Tee, was a chip off the old block, happy to be the center of attention like Rory’s brother, Dave, had been. Callan was more like Corinne, laid-back and focused. “Shall we go right now?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I promised Grandpa I’d come right after baseball practice.”

  “Hop in.”

  I will be calm, cool and collected. I will be calm, cool and collected. I will be...

  Rory made herself stop reciting the line. First, it was silly. Second, it wouldn’t do her a bit of good, so she’d pull up, drop Callan off and head back to town.

  Her perfect plan went awry.

  The first driveway had been blocked off and resealed. She drove to the next entrance on the far side of the house. Two moving vans sat there, back doors shut and locked, reminders of Cruz and the kids’ imminent departure.

  She sucked in a breath and rounded the lot, then paused near the sidewalk. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Rory!” Callan jumped out of the car, spotted Pete across the way and called out.

  Pete turned.

  Just as he did, Cruz moved into view, and turned Callan’s way.

  Oh, her heart...

  Their eyes met.

  He started to move her way.

  A well-dressed woman came through the front door and pulled his attention. She put a beautifully manicured hand on his arm, and he paused to listen.

  Rory took the hint and quietly swung the car in a quick arc toward the road.

  She didn’t look back. Why would she?

  Because you’re smitten, crabbed her conscience. Because you think the world of this guy and you got your nose bent out of shape over a real estate deal. What’s the matter with you? Were you looking to find fault with him? Because I think the guy’s tried real hard to be a good son to his mother, to take charge of two kids and to get all of Rosa’s things in order.

  You might want to cut him some slack.

  Was the internal scolding correct? Did she overreact because she was disappointed or because Cruz did something wrong?

  The former, she realized.

  He’d done exactly what he was trained to do, and probably what plenty of other folks in town would have done if they’d had the right connections. It didn’t make him bad. It made him smart.

  The doves were cooing softly when she parked the car back home. Their nestlings had flown, and the silver-gray parents had settled into a calm routine. Every year they came back, and some of the family, too.

  And every year the sound of their soft voices marked morning and evening.

  “Am I boring?” she asked Corinne when her sister-in-law strode outside with a glass of tea.

  Corinne collapsed into a lawn chair, set her tea down and peered up at Rory. “Is this a trick question? Because trick questions are not allowed after six p.m. My shift started thirteen hours ago, sweet thing, so my brain is officially fried. But in answer to your question, no. You are not boring.”

  Rory was about to breathe a sigh of relief when Corinne added, “Predictable, maybe. But never boring.”

  “Semantics,” Rory grumbled. She sank into the chair across from Corinne.

  “Was Cruz at the house?”

  Rory nodded.

  “Did you talk?”

  She shook her head. “He had people there. And he and Dad were working.” She sighed and shrugged. “Best to just move on, anyway.”

  Corinne sat forward and groaned, as if even that effort was too much in the evening. “What is the matter with people today?”

  “Huh?”

  “You. Cruz. Young people, falling in love.”

  “Well, I’d hardly say love,” Rory argued, although her conscience contradicted her silently. “We’ve only known each other a few weeks.”

  “Why would you think that’s not enough when God puts destiny in your path? I knew I loved your brother when I was seventeen years old, and when people made jokes about young love, I ignored them. I knew he was meant for me. And he knew it, too. Why waste time?”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “Because you made it difficult.” Corinne leaned forward again. “Listen. I had the love of my life for thirteen years. They were wonderful years, with all the ups and downs of a roller coaster, and when I lost Dave I thought I’d never recover. But I did. And the kids did.” She gave Rory a frank look. “I wouldn’t trade those thirteen years of wonderful for anything, Rory. Life’s a risk, every day. But it’s also a blessing, if we’re smart enough to grab those blessings and appreciate them. And now—” she downed the rest of her tea and stood “—I’m going to pick up Tee and head home. Dad’s dropping Callan off and I’m beat.”

  She leaned down and kissed Rory’s cheek. “Don’t be afraid to make bold decisions, Rory. God’s got your back no matter where you’re living.”

  She waved as she pulled out of the driveway.

  Life is a blessing.

  Thirteen years... She’d lost Dave over a decade ago, and had raised the two kids on her own, and she still blessed the years they had together.

  Rory took Corinne’s glass inside. She had to clean out the preschool rooms in the White Church tomorrow and pack stuff away. Maybe then she’d go see Cruz. Visit the kids before they headed downstate.

  Avoiding the goodbyes showed lack of courage, and the kids deserved more than that. They deserved her love, right up to the day they left.

  * * *

  Cruz stared at Rory’s retreating car.

  Should he drive after her? Chase her down?

  He wanted to, and Cruz couldn’t say he’d ever felt that way about a woman before, especially one that thought he was a money-grubbing tycoon with little regard for others’ feelings. The fact that he’d been exactly that for years didn’t matter. He was changing, on purpose, but would Rory believe that?

  Possibly not after he’d sold her preschool house to the highest bidder.

  “Rory didn’t stop in to see the kids?” Pete swept his sleeve across his brow as he came up alongside Cruz. “That’s not like her.”

  “Probably busy.”

  Pete looked at Cruz. Then he turned his attention to the now empty road, then back to Cruz. “Mmm-hmm. Well, she’s got a big job ahead of her tomorrow morning.”

  “What’s she doing?”

  “She’s got to stash all the preschool stuff she used for the summer program. I told her I’d come by with the truck to help her move everything into the carriage house like she did last year, but I should really finish getting those stalls fixed on the lower barn before our little friends get dropped off.”

  Cruz jumped at the opportunity. “I’ll help Rory. I’m out of practice with hammers and nails, but I’ve helped a lot of folks move apartments in Manhattan. If the financial stuff ever gets old, I could make money as a mover.”

  Pete laughed. “You’re on. I can’t wait to see the inside of that barn looking like it used to, and Callan likes learning to build things. He’s got a knack.”

  “Then we’re good.”

  Pete nodded and strode toward the lower barn, whistling. “We’re good.�
��

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rory stacked boxes on one side of the hallway leading to the church stairs, then plastic totes on the other. Behind all of that she set equipment and chairs. She’d need help with the six tables, but she and her father could muscle those together. She sent him a text once everything was packed and labeled.

  Ready when you are, Dad.

  He texted back:

  Pickup truck is on the way.

  Perfect. She began hauling boxes up the narrow stairs. By the time she’d brought up box number four, a big silver pickup rolled into the lot and backed up to the door.

  Her dad didn’t climb out of the cab.

  Cruz did.

  Her heart raced. Hadn’t she intended to go see him once this was done? Yes, so why was her heart all tangled up just because the tall, good-looking guy showed up unexpectedly?

  He headed her way and nodded toward the stack of boxes as if he was totally unaffected. “All this is going?”

  Obviously he was handling their rift far better than she was. Maybe it was good for her to know that. She nodded, but waved toward the street. “Yes, but my dad’s on his way.”

  “He sent me.”

  “Is he all right?”

  Cruz nodded easily as he slid one box after another into the front of the truck bed. “He’s fine, just tied up at the vineyard. He’s got a knack with carpentry. I don’t. So he’s fixing some things in the barn and I said I’d help you. Got more stuff?” He asked it casually, as if being with her was no big deal while her pulse was dancing a jig.

  “A lot.”

  “All right.” He carried totes, boxes, toys, riding toys and chairs. By the time they got to the tables, the truck was full. “Let’s drop this off and come back for those.”

  “Okay.” That meant climbing into the cab of the truck, making the short drive home and spending time together unloading.

  She could do this and smile naturally, just like he was doing. If she could control the crazy urge to jump into his arms and kiss him senseless.

  Fortunately, she was more mature than that, but barely.

 

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