by Shirley Jump
But then she glanced over at Maddy, curled up in the bed, wearing pink teddy bear pajamas, one foot out of the covers as always and her arm tucked around her stuffed bear. A wave of love hit Peyton like a tsunami, and at that moment, she didn’t want to go back to Baltimore, didn’t want to go back to work, didn’t want to do anything but spend every spare moment with this angel who had been dropped into her life.
Maddy stretched, then rolled over and gifted Peyton with a smile. “Hi, Auntie P.”
“Hi yourself, monkey. What do you want to do today?”
Maddy shrugged. “I dunno.”
“It’s Wednesday, and they have a festival in a town near here, so maybe we could go to that. There might be rides and things for kids to do.”
Maddy sat up in bed, drew her bear onto her lap and shook her head. “It’s ice cream day, Auntie P.” Her voice dropped and she rested her chin on Bo’s furry head. “Mommy liked ice cream day.”
And then Peyton remembered. Wednesdays were the days that Susannah liked to celebrate. Halfway to the weekend, she would always say, and during the times when she did hold down a job for more than a few weeks, she would tell Peyton she needed a pick-me-up to help her last till Friday. When Maddy was born, that pick-me-up had evolved from beer to ice cream, a tradition that Susannah had kept up.
Peyton’s older sister might have been a distracted, sometimes irresponsible mother, but she had done this one thing. Maybe because Maddy loved it so much, and maybe because it was an easy tradition to maintain. There was a little ice cream shop near the Baltimore condo, and every Wednesday after Maddy got home from day care, Susannah would walk her down there for a dinner made up of a hot fudge sundae. No matter how many times Peyton protested, citing the lack of nutritional value, Susannah had ignored her and taken Maddy.
After Susannah’s death, ice cream Wednesdays had disappeared, too. At first because Peyton had been too overwhelmed to even think about what day it was, and later because she wasn’t sure if sticking to the things Susannah used to do would make it harder or easier on Maddy to accept her mother’s death.
This was the first time Maddy had brought up Susannah since her mother had died. The psychologist had told Peyton that when Maddy was ready to talk about it, she’d be the one to introduce the topic. Pushing her too much, too fast, might make Maddy retreat again. But right now, there was a window open, and Peyton decided to nudge it just a tiny bit more.
Peyton took a seat on the end of the bed. “Ice cream day was really fun, wasn’t it? I miss it.”
Maddy clutched her bear tighter, her eyes wide and serious. “I wanna get ice cream for dinner. Like Mommy did.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Peyton said.
Maddy brightened a bit. “Mommy loved ice cream. And unicorns. And purple things.”
“And you,” Peyton said. “She loved you, Maddy. And I bet she’s missing you just as much as you’re missing her.”
Maddy looked away. “Can I play with my dolls now?” Her voice was teary, but strong.
“Sure.” Peyton let Maddy go and let the conversation about Susannah drop. It was progress—not much, but something.
Luke had said he’d be working all day today, so Peyton and Maddy stayed busy with a trip to the mall for some more shorts for Maddy, then lunch at a restaurant with one of those indoor play places. Afterward they went back to the hotel so that Maddy could take a nap, and Peyton could do a little more work. Shortly before dinnertime, Peyton decided they would walk to downtown Stone Gap. If they were going to have ice cream for dinner, they could at least get a little exercise first.
As they rounded the corner onto Main Street, she saw Luke heading away from the garage and toward them. As soon as he saw them, a smile filled his face, a smile Peyton echoed. Was he glad to see both of them? Or just Maddy? And why did she want to know that answer so badly?
Maddy started tugging on Peyton’s hand. “It’s Luke, Auntie P. Can he get ice cream with us?”
“Sure.” Peyton told herself it was because she wanted Luke to spend more time with Maddy, not just because Peyton wanted to spend more time with Luke.
Maddy ran up ahead, and straight into Luke. She had her bear in her arms, and Bo tumbled to the ground with the collision. At the last second, Luke caught him and pressed Bo back into Maddy’s arms. “Whoa there, cowgirl. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
“Luke! Luke!” Maddy said. “We’re getting ice cream for dinner and Auntie P says you can come, too!”
“Ice cream for dinner?” He smirked at Peyton. “Is someone stepping outside the boundaries of rules and schedules and filleruppers?”
“Just keeping a tradition that Susannah started.” She ruffled Maddy’s hair. “Right, monkey?”
Maddy nodded. “Are we going to get ice cream now?”
“Yup, but you need to hold my hand while we walk,” Peyton said to Maddy, putting out her right palm.
“Luke, you hafta hold my other hand.” Maddy put her left hand into Peyton’s and her right into Luke’s. “Now we all hafta walk together. Like a mommy and daddy.”
Luke’s eyes met Peyton’s. Neither of them said anything about Maddy’s pronouncement, but the message was there, in the unspoken trinity of two adults with a child between them. People in Stone Gap watched them pass, questions in their eyes, but Peyton kept on going, until they’d reached the little ice cream parlor that sat near the end of Main Street, a block away from Sadie’s Clip ’n Curl. A bright pink-and-white awning hung in front of the little shop, over wide plate-glass windows and a cheery yellow interior.
Luke held the door for Peyton and Maddy. “You don’t have to be a gentleman, you know,” Peyton said. She passed by so close, she caught the tempting scent of his cologne, brushed the edge of his arm. Her heart stuttered.
“I know. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be one.” He gave her a grin, then pulled out two chairs at a small table and gestured to Peyton and Maddy to sit. He tugged a napkin out of the dispenser on the table and draped it over his arm. “What would you like to order, mademoiselle?”
Maddy giggled at Luke’s mangled French accent. Peyton stifled a laugh of her own. “I wanna sundae,” Maddy said. “With chocolate ice cream. And sprinkles. And a cherry.”
“And for madam?” He made a swooping gesture and bowed in Peyton’s direction.
“Just a bowl of vanilla.”
He arched a brow. “Madam, you are in the premier ice cream shop in Stone Gap, North Carolina. Where the cows that make the milk are happier than the cows in all of Paris.”
She laughed. “And why is that?”
“Because here...” He made a swooping gesture with his arm, then his gaze came to rest on her face, saying, “They are surrounded by beauty.”
Peyton’s cheeks went hot as a furnace. He wasn’t talking about her, couldn’t possibly be talking about her. Was he talking about her?
“And yes, I’m talking about you,” Luke said, as if reading her mind. “And my beautiful d—”
“Maddy,” Peyton interrupted.
“Maddy,” Luke finished, with a note of disappointment in his voice. He straightened and laid the napkin on the table. “I’ll be back with your orders.”
The flirty mood was gone, divided by the truth, the reality that she had yet to trust him fully, yet to believe he would be in Maddy’s life for the long haul. Why? He’d been here thus far and had yet to let either of them down. Why was Peyton still waiting for the other shoe to drop?
She came to no answers before Luke returned, bearing a tray with three paper bowls. He affected the French waiter act again, laying the first bowl in front of Maddy. “Your sundae, mademoiselle.”
Maddy giggled. “T’ank you.”
Luke laid a second bowl in front of Peyton. “And for you, madam, the high school special,” he said. “I think I got it right.”
She stared down at a mound of mint chocolate chip ice cream, topped with a drizzle of chocolate syrup and a sprinkling of n
uts. She hadn’t seen a bowl like that in years. Five years, to be exact. “You remembered the kind of ice cream I like?”
“Only because the three of us came here, like, five times a week. I practically had the whole menu memorized when I was young.”
“Thank you,” she said softly. The part of her that still remembered the thrill of her infatuation with Luke was ridiculously flattered that he remembered something so small.
He slipped into the third seat, with a sundae of his own. He was just about to dig in when the door behind the counter of the shop opened and a six-foot-tall man in a teddy bear suit came lumbering out, wearing an oversize T-shirt with the shop’s bright logo across the front. The mascot waved at Maddy, his big head bouncing with the greeting.
Maddy shied away from the bear and pressed against the table.
“Maddy, he’s just a mascot. There’s a man inside the suit,” Peyton explained, logically, calmly, “and he’s just going outside to tell people they should come get ice cream. Would you like to say hello to him?”
Maddy shook her head, her eyes wide. “Nu-uh.”
“It’s just a costume, sweetie,” Peyton explained. “In the back, there’s a zipper for the suit and—”
“I don’t wanna talk to him.” She hunched over her bowl.
Luke picked up Maddy’s bear, who had been propped up in the fourth seat. He put the bear to his ear. “What’s that you say, Bo? Oh, my, I didn’t know. Let me tell Maddy.”
Maddy giggled. “Tell me what?”
“That Mr. Bo here thinks he’s just seen his long-lost Uncle Jeb.”
“Uncle Jeb?” Maddy asked. Her attention was on Luke now, not the bear mascot gathering up some flyers from the girl behind the counter.
“Yup. Did you know Mr. Bo here has a family just like you? He has a daddy and some uncles and even a grandpa. Bo said the big guy over there—” Luke lowered his voice and leaned in toward Maddy “—is his uncle Jeb, not seen since the great bear reunion of ’82.”
Peyton bit back a laugh. “Uncle Jeb? Really?”
“Hey, it’s the South. It’s possible.” Luke winked, then turned back to Maddy. “So Uncle Jeb there might just like to see Bo, and meet him. They can paws for a minute, catch up on some bear stuff.” He grinned at Peyton, and she rolled her eyes at his awful pun—but couldn’t help smiling at how Maddy was losing her fear.
Maddy glanced over her shoulder at the mascot, then down at Bo. “Can you go wif me, Luke?”
“Sure, kid.” As soon as Luke rose, Maddy followed and slipped her hand into Luke’s again. They walked across the small shop together while Peyton stayed behind at the table, watching the whole exchange with amusement and a little wonder.
Her heart lurched, seeing six-foot-two Luke bending down beside his daughter, who was barely half his height. He was patient and sweet with her while they introduced her bear to the mascot and were given a free cookie by the young girl at the counter. Instead of shying away, as Maddy had always done before, she got up there and was talking to the mute mascot, who responded with exaggerated hand gestures and nods. Uncle Jeb made a big deal out of Bo, which delighted Maddy to no end. Luke stayed close, translating the mascot’s head nods into a conversation between Bo and Maddy.
If Peyton had been asked to place a bet a week ago, she would have said Luke would maybe spend a couple of days with them, then be gone as quickly as a summer storm. But he was sticking around, getting involved, making a connection.
Becoming a father.
And that meant Peyton was going to have to make some tough decisions at the end of her two-week stay. What if, after the DNA results came back—results she had no doubt would prove what she knew in her heart—what if Luke asked for custody? As the remaining biological parent, he’d have a valid case. How could Peyton possibly let Maddy go?
Maddy came running back to the table, chattering about Bo meeting his uncle Jeb, and how yummy the cookie was, and how she thought ice cream for dinner was the best idea ever. The three of them ate their sundaes, then headed outside into the perfect warm evening.
Peyton stood on the sidewalk beside Luke and a still-bubbly Maddy and decided she didn’t want the evening to end, not yet. “I think I’m going to take Maddy to the playground. Let her burn off some of this energy and sugar, or I’ll never get her to sleep tonight.”
“Let’s go to the new one Jack is building. He’s got the swings installed, and the jungle gym.”
“Swings?” Maddy jumped up and down. “I love swings!”
They headed down Main Street, toward a pair of shops, a bakery and a deli that sat beside the empty lot that was on its way to being the Eli Delacorte Memorial Playground. The equipment was bright blue, a nice contrast to the pale wood picnic tables and benches. Behind a roped-off area in the far corner sat a slide waiting to be installed and several ready-to-construct giant wooden puzzles, perfect for entertaining little minds. The rest was done and open for business, though.
“Eli was Meri’s cousin,” Luke explained. “He died in the war, serving with Jack. My brother really wanted a way to memorialize Eli, and he came up with this playground. I don’t know if you remember, but Eli’s parents own the bakery and the deli.”
“Betty and George Delacorte?” Peyton asked, as Luke gestured toward a long wooden bench. She settled on the right end, draping an arm across the back, relaxing into the comfortable seat Jack had built. “I remember them. Every time I went in the bakery, Miss Betty would give me some kind of treat. She’s a sweet woman.”
“They’re some of the most generous people in Stone Gap. Damned shame about losing Eli.”
“He was a great guy,” Peyton said. “I didn’t know him well, but I heard lots of people talk about him. He was Jack’s best friend, wasn’t he?”
“Yup. Tough to lose your best friend.” Luke’s voice had a rough edge to it. He cleared his throat, but pain still lingered in his face.
Maddy had run ahead and was pushing Bo in one of the baby swings. She was singing her favorite song about the whale and the lemon. Another family came into the park, with a little boy about Maddy’s age. Peyton watched, sure that Maddy would run back to her aunt’s side, as she had done so many times in the past few weeks since her world had been rocked, but instead Maddy started talking to the little boy, and seconds later, the two of them were climbing on the jungle gym like a pair of chummy monkeys. The sight of Maddy playing with another child, a stranger at that, gave Peyton hope that maybe the Maddy she knew and loved was coming back to her.
“Want to talk about it?” Peyton said. With Maddy busy, it left her alone with Luke, and she realized that opportunity made her want to know more, to uncover some of the mysteries around a man she used to think she knew.
“Talk about what?”
“I’ve known you a long time, Luke,” she began. “And when I came back to Stone Gap, I expected to find the exact same man I left behind. Irresponsible, uncommitted—”
“Gee, thanks.”
She gave him an apologetic smile. “But you’re not that man anymore. You’ve surprised me in a dozen different ways.”
“Thank you. And I mean that one sincerely.”
“But I get the sense that there’s a reason for all that, a reason other than Maddy. Something changed you.” Peyton didn’t push any more. She was, after all, only an old friend, and his daughter’s aunt. Despite the kisses they’d shared, she wouldn’t call this...thing between them a relationship. She wasn’t sure what she’d call it, but however they defined their connection, she wanted to be there for him if he wanted to open up, if he wanted help to erase the sadness that tinted the edges of his words.
He rested his elbows on his knees. His shoulders hunched, and he seemed to go to some place deep inside his soul. “Do you remember Jeremiah Thurber?”
She thought for a moment. “He was the one that released the chicken at the school assembly, wasn’t he? He had everyone in stitches, but I thought the poor principal was going to have a heart attac
k.” Jeremiah had been a well-liked kid, member of nearly every sports team at school, and one of those kids who made it onto every yearbook page because he seemed to be woven into the very fabric of their school. He’d also been one of Luke’s best friends, part of the three-pack of Luke, Ben and Jeremiah, who were the toast of every party in town. “Great guy.”
“Great guy—” Luke let out a breath “—who now spends his days locked in his room, playing video games.”
That surprised her. Of all the people she’d known in Stone Gap, the busy, friendly, outgoing Jeremiah would be the last she’d picture that way. “Why?”
“Because of me.” Luke cursed, then got to his feet and crossed to an old oak tree. He leaned against it, watching Maddy, but really, withdrawing into himself, away from her.
Peyton thought of the undefined parameters between them. She didn’t have the right to push him, to find out what lay under those words, but that didn’t stop her from getting up and joining him at the tree. Peyton put her hands behind her back and leaned against the rough bark, close enough to touch Luke, but far enough to give him the room he wanted. “What happened?”
He stood there awhile longer, while the happy sounds of playing children rang in the air like bells. Luke muttered another curse. “I never talk about it. But maybe I should. Don’t all those experts say talking crap out makes it easier?”
“Like giving a wound some air to help it heal. That’s how Maddy’s psychologist describes it.”
“She’s seeing a psychologist?”
Peyton nodded. “I started taking her after Susannah died. She’s had a hard time, and I needed...help.”
A smile ghosted on his face. “Tough as hell for you to admit that, isn’t it?”
She toed at the grass and avoided his gaze. “Of course it is. I’ve always been the poster child of self-sufficiency.”
“You have indeed. I’m impressed.” A wider smile filled his face now, and his gaze connected with hers. “I’ve always been impressed by you, Peyton.”