The Chef's Surprise Baby

by Brenda Harlen

  And she’d never felt so lonely.

  Friends and neighbors stopped by to offer condolences and casseroles, sharing their favorite memories and fishing stories and expressing their regrets about a vibrant life abruptly cut short. The steady flow of people in and out of the house kept Bonnie occupied, allowing Erin some time to respond to the emails and text messages from her friends in Haven.

  She’d reached out to Kyle, to tell him about her dad’s passing, but her call had gone directly to voice mail. She didn’t try again. Over the past few months, they’d fallen out of touch—her fault, she knew, but limiting her contact with Kyle had been the only way she’d been able to deal with everything that was happening at the time. Instead, she’d dialed Lucy’s number next, and had nearly lost it completely when she heard her friend’s voice.

  But it was okay, because Lucy cried right along with her, and for a moment, it was almost as if her best friend was there. Of course, Lucy was in her seventh month of pregnancy, so there was no way she’d be able to make the trip to Silver Hook, and Erin wouldn’t have expected her to even if she could, but it was a comfort to know that she cared.

  She’d talked to Quinn later that day, too, and promised her friend that they’d get together to catch up as soon as Erin got back to Haven—whenever that might be.

  Today, facing two visitations—from 10:00 to 12:00 and 2:00 to 4:00—she found herself wishing that she’d asked her friend to come. And tomorrow, the day of the funeral, she knew would be even worse. A time to say her last goodbye to her father, her friend and confidant, her champion. He was the one person who’d always been in her corner. The one she’d been most reluctant to leave when she moved to Haven—and the one who’d insisted that she go. Because he’d understood that she needed to move away to build a career that had nothing to do with catching, gutting or frying fish and a life in which she was valued for herself.

  The last guests from the early visitation left just after noon, which meant that the family had a little less than two hours to recharge their batteries before they had to do it all again at two.

  Ian and Marissa decided to take advantage of the break and take their girls out for a bite to eat, promising to bring something back for Mom, who was going over the details for the next day’s service with Owen and the funeral director. Anna and Nick had taken Nicky, their now five-month-old son, outside for some fresh air, and Erin thought that she should probably go outside, too, but she didn’t have enough energy to walk even that far. Instead, she dropped onto one of the sofas in the family lounge.

  “There’s my two favorite guys,” she said, when Roger walked into the room with his eight-week-old nephew tucked in the crook of his arm like a football.

  “Joel needed a diaper change,” he said, dropping the tote bag stuffed with baby supplies at her feet. “But I took care of it.”

  “Look at you, daddy-in-training,” she teased.

  “Owen told you that we’re thinking about having a baby,” he guessed.

  She nodded. “He said you’ve got an appointment with an adoption agency next month.”

  “Do you think we’re crazy?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I think you guys will be awesome parents.”

  “We’ll do our best,” he promised. “In the meantime, we’ll continue practicing our skills on the newest addition to the family.” He reached out with his free hand and linked his fingers with hers. “How are you holding up?”

  “On a wing and a prayer,” she admitted.

  “I’m not surprised,” he said. “You’ve been on your feet all day.”

  “So have you,” she pointed out.

  “But I’m not wearing three-inch heels.”

  “They were the only dress shoes I brought,” she said. “Which makes me wonder what I was thinking when I packed.”

  “I’d guess you were thinking that you wanted to get home and just grabbed whatever you put your hands on and shoved it in your suitcase.”

  “That pretty much sums it up.”

  “In which case, you really lucked out with that dress,” he said, referring to the simple black sheath she was wearing. “You make grief look gorgeous.”

  She managed a small smile. “It’s not mine,” she confided. “I borrowed it from Anna’s closet.”

  “Does she know?”

  “She offered it to me, confessing that she can’t squeeze into it right now, anyway, because her boobs are so much bigger than mine.”

  “Gloating, you mean?” he guessed.

  She shrugged. “I was just happy that I didn’t have to go shopping for a dress.”

  Roger tilted his head, listening as the distant voices in the hall drew nearer. “Sounds like our quiet space is about to get less quiet.”

  Before she could respond, Owen appeared in the doorway.

  “There’s someone here to see you, Erin.”

  Her brother’s words were little more than a buzz in her ears as her gaze shifted to the man standing behind him.

  “Is that... Kyle?” Roger whispered the question to her.

  She managed a nod as he stepped into the lounge.

  His gaze shifted from Erin to the man beside her and back again.

  Roger let go of the hand she hadn’t realized he was still holding and smoothly rose to his feet without disturbing the sleeping baby tucked in the crook of his arm. “I’m Roger Howard—Erin’s brother-in-law.”

  Kyle’s puzzled expression cleared as he shook the proffered hand. “Kyle Landry. A friend of Erin’s from Haven.”

  She summoned the energy to push herself off the couch, her bruised and battered heart filling with happiness and gratitude, mixed with more than a little bit of panic.

  “Kyle.” Tears filled her eyes, clogged her throat. She hadn’t spoken to him in weeks and though she knew Lucy would have shared the news about her dad, she’d never anticipated that he would show up in Silver Hook. Unprepared for his appearance now, her panicked gaze darted from him to the baby in her brother-in-law’s arms and back again. “What are you doing here?”

  “I thought you could use a friend.”

  “You have no idea how much,” she confided.

  He opened his arms and she stepped into his embrace willingly. Gratefully. And more than a little warily.

  “Well, you’ve got two here now from Haven,” he told her.

  “Two?” she said, uncomprehending.

  “Quinn came with me, but she got caught up on a call with her editor so I left her outside because I didn’t want to wait another minute to see you.”

  She leaned into his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, absorbing the comfort of his arms around her.

  “We’ll, uh, give you two some privacy,” Roger said, nudging his husband toward the door.

  Erin didn’t object. While she didn’t think that Owen knew about her hookup with Kyle—she trusted Roger had kept her confidence—the way her brother was eyeing the newcomer warned her that it wouldn’t take him long to put the pieces together.

  “But we’ll be right next door, if you need anything,” Owen said.

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m so sorry about your dad,” Kyle said when they were alone.

  “He didn’t have an easy go of it,” she said—an obvious understatement. “But now I picture him at the pearly gates, asking if there’s any good crappie fishing in heaven.”

  “Isn’t good crappie an oxymoron?”

  She surprised herself by laughing at his question. “C-r-a-p-p-i-e. It’s a type of sunfish, which I’m sure you know because it’s readily available in Nevada, too.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he admitted. “I just wanted to make you smile.”

  “And you did,” she confirmed.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too. And Lucy and Claudio and Quinn.�
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  “Lucy wanted to be here,” he told her now. “But her doctor didn’t want her traveling so close to her due date.”

  Erin nodded. “But she’s okay?”

  “She’s doing great,” Kyle assured her. “Eager for the baby to be born—and hoping you’ll be back in Haven before that happens.”

  She hesitated, unwilling to commit to anything just yet. “I don’t know what my plans are,” she finally said. “For the past few months, I’ve just been focused on getting through one day at a time.”

  “That’s understandable,” he said.

  A knock sounded on the open door. “Sorry to interrupt,” Roger said, poking his head into the room again. “But this little guy is starting to fuss and I can’t find a bottle.”

  “In the fridge,” Erin said, already moving toward the kitchenette part of the lounge.

  She took the bottle out and set it in a plastic bowl in the sink, filling the bowl with hot water from the tap to warm the milk.

  “Do you want me to feed him?” Roger asked.

  “No, I’ve got it,” Erin said, taking the fussy baby from him.

  “You’re sure?”

  She nodded, and Roger slipped out of the room again.

  “I’m guessing this is your nephew,” Kyle said, eyeing the baby in her arms.

  “My nephew?” she echoed.

  “Isn’t that Nicky—Anna and Nick’s baby?” he prompted.

  “Oh. Um. No. This is... Joel.”

  His brows drew together. “Whose baby is he?”

  She swallowed. “Mine.”

  Chapter Nine

  Kyle felt his jaw hit the floor.

  Erin had a baby?

  When the hell had that happened?

  And why had she kept it a secret?

  As these questions swirled in his mind, a trickle of unease slid down his spine. “How old is he?”

  Erin drew in a breath, as if bracing herself for a difficult admission. “Eight and a half weeks.”

  Just over two months.

  Which meant...

  He took a closer look at the baby. “You said his name’s Joel?”

  She nodded as she took the bottle out of the warm water and shook a few drops of milk onto the inside of her wrist to test its temperature. “Joel Brian Landry.”

  Kyle felt dizzy, as if the whole world had suddenly been turned upside down.

  “Joel for your mom and Brian... for my dad,” she explained, a hint of emotion in her voice.

  He was feeling pretty emotional, too. “And Landry because he’s...mine.”

  Though it wasn’t a question, she nodded anyway.

  He was stunned.

  And furious.

  And—perhaps most unexpectedly—he felt a surge of pride that he’d played a part, however small, in creating the baby in her arms.

  Which didn’t make any sense, because a child hadn’t been part of his plan. But the plan didn’t seem to matter so much now that he was faced with the reality of a baby.

  His baby.

  “Say something. Please,” Erin urged, as she offered the bottle to the infant, who immediately latched on to the nipple and began suckling.

  “I don’t know where to begin,” he admitted.

  There were so many questions spinning around in his head he couldn’t seem to grab hold of any one.

  And while it was obvious that he and Erin needed to talk, he recognized that this was neither the time nor the place—especially not when friends and neighbors would start arriving any minute now for the visitation because her father had just died.

  So he was both frustrated and relieved to acknowledge that the conversation they needed to have would have to wait. Because as much as he wanted answers right now, he also needed some time to absorb the impact of her revelation.

  He had a child.

  An eight-and-a-half-week-old son.

  Which meant that he’d already missed out on the first two months of the little guy’s life, and no way was he going to miss any more. He wasn’t going to abandon his child like his own father had done.

  Joel Brian Landry.

  Repeating the name inside his head, Kyle discovered that he liked it.

  And he was grateful that Erin had given their son his surname, recognizing the gesture as confirmation that she hadn’t intended to keep the baby’s existence a secret from him forever, even if she’d done so for the whole of her pregnancy and two months after.

  “Erin?” A thirtysomething woman in a long-sleeved black dress hovered in the doorway. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but your mom wanted you to know that visitors are starting to arrive.”

  “Thanks, Marissa. You can tell her that I’ll be out as soon as I’ve finished feeding Joel,” Erin promised.

  “We’ll talk after,” Kyle said.

  Again, it wasn’t a question, but she nodded.

  He exited the lounge so that she could finish tending to the baby—his baby!—without any distractions.

  He met Quinn at the main doors as she was on her way in.

  “What did I miss?” she asked.

  He didn’t know where to begin.

  * * *

  The past few months, Erin felt as if her life had truly been a roller coaster. There were so many highs and lows—and days when she felt as if she’d never get off the ride. Today had brought new heights: seeing Quinn again and finally getting to introduce Kyle to his son; and depths: having to face the reality that her dad was truly and forever gone.

  And the roller coaster wasn’t done yet. After the visitation, Quinn had tried to sneak off to check into The Lucky Angler so that Erin and Kyle would have some time to talk privately, but Erin couldn’t let her friends stay at a motel when there were empty cabins at Sunfish Bay.

  If her dad had held on for another few weeks, the resort would have been fully booked, but it was early enough in the spring that there were still a few vacant cabins. Ian was certain their father had planned it that way, so that they would be done with the funeral and all the mourning before the height of the season. Erin didn’t doubt he was right. Brian Napper had never wanted anything to interfere with the business.

  Now they were finally back at the resort, inside Cabin Ten—a two-bedroom unit with spectacular views of the lake in the daytime. Despite the fact that darkness would soon be falling, Quinn had insisted on taking a flashlight and going for a walk, and now that Joel had been fed and was asleep again, Erin knew there was no more avoiding the conversation that she and Kyle needed to have.

  “This is a great place your family has,” he began.

  “It is, isn’t it?” she agreed. “Growing up here, I took it for granted, but now when I come back, I can appreciate everything the resort has to offer.

  “At least for the first few days,” she clarified. “Then I remember how much work it is. Twelve cabins means there are a lot of beds to make.”

  “And toilets to clean,” he said.

  She managed a small smile. “I think we can move past the small talk now, so why don’t you just ask what you want to ask?”

  He nodded. “Okay. Let’s start with—why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I was going to tell you.”

  “When?” he demanded.

  “When I came back to Haven,” she said.

  Kyle shook his head, clearly unsatisfied with her response. “He’s two months old, Erin. You’ve had two months—and nine months before that—to say something. But you didn’t.”

  “We spent one night together. We took precautions. I’m sorry that I didn’t immediately realize I’d skipped a period and think, ‘I better call Kyle because I might be pregnant.’”

  “But there obviously came a point when you realized ‘might be’ had changed to ‘am,’” he pointed out. “And yet my phone didn’t ring.”
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  “By that time, I hadn’t talked to you in a few weeks,” she confided, “and when I spoke with Lucy, I found out that you were dating Shirla Lawrie—”

  “It was one date,” he said, frustrated to think that was her justification for keeping him in the dark.

  “I didn’t know that,” she said, imploring him to understand. “And you made your feelings about unplanned pregnancies perfectly clear when you accused my sister of trapping Nick into marriage.”

  He winced at the reminder of that long-ago conversation. “Nick and Anna aren’t you and me.”

  “No,” she agreed. “They were actually in a relationship and in love with one another. We’re just friends who spent one night together.”

  “Which might have turned into something more if you hadn’t left town the very next day.” Even as the words spilled out of his mouth, he wished he could take them back.

  Her eyes went wide and she took an instinctive step back, as if to retreat from the pain his callous response had caused. “I had to go,” she reminded him, her tone noticeably cooler now. “My dad was sick. Dying.”

  “I know,” he acknowledged, sincerely contrite.

  “But even if I hadn’t left,” she continued, “we both know that one night wouldn’t have turned into anything more because you’ve never wanted anything more. Every time you broke up with one of your numerous girlfriends, you reiterated that you had no interest in getting married or having a family, so forgive me for not being eager to share the news that I was having your baby after you’d made it clear that you didn’t ever want to be a father.”

  He wondered how it was that she was the one who’d kept a secret for eleven months, but he was suddenly the one on the defensive.

  “Regardless of anything I said or did, you should have reached out when you knew you were pregnant,” he said. “Or, failing that, when the baby was born. I shouldn’t have had to find out—more than two months later—only because I showed up on your doorstep.”

  “You’re right,” she agreed. “And the day he was born, I called you from the hospital.”

  He frowned. “No, you didn’t.”