by Carol Voss
Mr. Chandler reached across his workbench to give Peter’s hand a firm shake. “Dr. Sheridan.”
“Peter.”
“Max.”
“I want you to know how sorry I am about Clarissa’s death.”
“Thank you.” The older man shifted his gaze to the ground as if checking his emotions. Then he raised his eyes, held out his arms and Jake lunged from Jessie’s arms to his. “How’s my little buddy?”
Jake gave his grandpa an enthusiastic hug.
Peter found himself smiling at the comradery between the two. It was hard not to smile at just about everything about the little guy.
“Come on, Jake.” Jessie held up the tinfoil package her mother had sent with her. “Help me put supper in the oven to stay warm, okay?”
“’Kay!” Jake yelled as if Jessie had given him a very important assignment.
Max let him slide to the ground.
Jessie grasped the boy’s hand.
With a purposeful strut, Jake headed for the house with Jessie gliding beside him.
She was probably leaving so her father wouldn’t have to pull punches. “You will make that phone call?” Peter reminded.
“I will,” she called over her shoulder.
Peter dragged his gaze back to the man on the other side of the work bench.
Her father’s eyes bore into Peter’s until the screen door slammed behind Jessie and Jake. “My wife and I are very proud of both our daughters. But for reasons I’ll never understand, Clarissa felt her research was more important than being a mother. What I want to know is why she found it necessary to keep her baby a secret from you.”
Off and running. “I don’t know the answer to that question.”
Max studied Peter, sadness filling his lined face.
It must be hard to lose a child.
“I could use something cool.” Max strode to the back wall. He pulled a couple cans from an under-counter refrigerator, strode back to Peter and handed him a can of Dr Pepper.
“Thanks.” Peter popped the lid, the hiss of carbonated air filling the silence between them.
Max raised his soda. “To reasonable men.”
Peter could hope. But the steel glint in Max’s eyes warned him to stay on his toes. He raised his can in a toast, then took a sizable swallow, the liquid cold and refreshing.
Max drank thirstily before he lowered his can and focused a narrow gaze on Peter. “Clarissa and I had our differences of opinion, but she knew what she was doing when she gave Jake to Jessie. Jessie’s the best thing that could have happened to that boy.”
Peter had no argument with that. Just thinking about the love on her face when she looked at Jake made him smile. “She’s wonderful with him.”
“Think about it, Peter. If Clarissa had been a different person, she might have given him to some agency for adoption. You would never have known you had a son. And little Jake would have been lost to all of us.”
Peter could only stare at the man as he absorbed his words. Rather than blaming Clarissa for leaving him out of the loop, maybe he should be thankful for the things she’d done right. He could only imagine how difficult the situation had been for her.
But Max wasn’t finished. “The way I see it…the measure of a man is in how he takes care of his family. If you’re the man I hope you are, you’ll do what’s best for Jake. If you don’t, you don’t deserve to be his father.”
Somehow Max had managed to challenge Peter’s integrity, prod him to live up to it and shame him if he fell short. The man was good. “Of course, I want what’s best for Jake.”
Max took a drink of his soda. “What’s best for Jake is Jessie.”
As if summoned, she walked out of the house, Jake in her arms. “Jake left his musical car out here.”
She was just as pretty in jeans and a green T-shirt as she’d been in her sundress, Peter noted.
“Want a Dr Pepper, Jess?” Her father looked at her expectantly.
She shook her head.
“Did you talk to your lawyer?”
“Yes. He said I’ll have to give you DNA samples eventually anyway, and I’d just as soon do it now.”
“Great. Then let’s get started.” Peter swept the kits out of the drugstore bag he carried.
Max gave him a level gaze. “There’s more to being a father than DNA, Peter.”
“Of course there is.”
“Like feelings, love, commitment. How do you feel about being a father?” Max asked.
Peter laid the kits on the nearby table. “Jake’s great.”
“Yes, he is. But that’s not my question.”
He should have known Jessie’s dad wouldn’t accept a superficial answer. Buying time, he laid out vials, small packages of swabs and labels while he sorted through thoughts he’d been struggling with about what to do regarding his son.
Bottom line? No way could he let Jake grow up without a father, like Peter had. “Jake needs to know his father. I can’t let him grow up thinking he doesn’t matter to me.”
“Fair enough. But think long and hard about how best to accomplish that. As long as you remember what’s best for him, we’ll get along just fine.”
In other words, as long as he remembered Jessie was best for Jake, everything would go smoothly. A not-too-veiled threat if Peter ever heard one. But he admired Jessie’s father for laying it on the line.
Max looked at Peter, obviously waiting for him to be just as straightforward about what he wanted.
Peter’s thoughts began to gain clarity. He wanted more than just to know his son and his son to know him. He wanted the kind of relationship with Jake that Jessie and her dad had.
And if that was what he wanted, he needed to step up to the plate. “Jessie’s fortunate to have you, Max. You’re here when she needs you, and you’re not afraid to go to bat for her. I don’t want to be anything less for my son.”
“What?” Jessie’s eyes went wide. “You want to be a father like my dad? But you have to get back to your lab, remember?”
She was right. He’d been in a hurry to get the DNA swabs so he could get on the road. Slight change of plans. If he was going to be a real father, he needed to get to know his son a little better. “I’ve decided to stay in town the rest of the weekend.”
Unfortunately, the shock on Jessie’s face wasn’t the least bit encouraging.
In the steamy little bathroom, Jake’s shampoo mingled with the subtle spice of Peter Sheridan’s aftershave.
“Make bubbos,” Jake squealed, slapping the water in the tub with both hands.
Jessie rocked back on her haunches to duck a spray of soapy water, a jab in her hip making her wince.
On his knees beside her, Peter took the splash at full force. Laughing, he swiped his hand over his wet face, his arm bumping Jessie’s.
He turned to her, his laughing brown eyes concerned. “Sorry. You okay?”
She nodded vigorously, his presence seeming to fill the room.
His gaze softened. “I tend to throw myself into things, I’m afraid.”
She squinted. Too warm, she scooched over to allow him more space.
“Pedo. Chug.”
With an apologetic little smile, Peter turned to Jake and went back to making chugging noises and pushing a plastic tugboat in circles while Jake laughed and clapped and wildly slapped the water.
Grateful that Peter’s focus was back on Jake, Jessie gave her head a little shake. What was her problem? Did she need to remind herself of Peter’s declaration in the backyard this afternoon? He seemed to think he could pull Dad’s qualities out of thin air. Ha.
She had to make him see reality. That’s why she’d invited him to help with Jake’s bath and bedtime ritual—to give him a glimpse of real-life, behind-the-scenes parenting. If he understood being a parent was time-consuming, sometimes heart-wrenching and a lot of hard work, he’d have to understand he lacked the time and the skills to care for Jake.
At first, Peter sat back and watched her p
lay quietly with her son to calm him down before bed. But it hadn’t taken him long to roll up his sleeves and take charge. Now, the front of his white dress shirt was soaked, and his black suit pants weren’t faring much better. But he seemed oblivious to everything except Jake and how much fun they were having.
But right before bed? Not a good idea. The more tired Jake got, the more wound up he became, and the harder it would be to get him to settle down for the night.
Of course, it would give Peter a good dose of one of the challenges of parenting. He needed to get a complete picture. And as much as she didn’t want Jake having a hard time settling down, maybe it would be worth it if Peter could see he wasn’t up to the job. Struggling to her feet, she grabbed a dry towel and glanced pointedly at her watch. “Jake’s bedtime has come and gone.”
“Hear that, Jake? Time for bed.”
Jake splashed, water flying. “Pedo chug.”
Diversion worked better than going the direct route, but Peter would find that out soon enough. She gave him the towel.
“Thanks. Come on Jake, let’s get you dried off.”
Jake stuck out his bottom lip in his mutiny pose.
Peter looked up at her, amusement crinkling his rich brown eyes. To his credit, he didn’t laugh even if Jake’s pout was the cutest thing in the entire world.
Jake slapped the water, sending it flying everywhere again. “Chug, Pedo.”
Peter turned back to Jake, a broad grin on his lips, as if that would help. He held the towel at the ready like he expected Jake to walk right into it. “See? Jessie gave me a big, fluffy towel to dry you off.”
Jake pointed to Jessie. “Mama.”
She smiled.
“Mama,” Peter conceded.
“Chug, Pedo.” Jake grasped the tugboat and jammed it at Peter.
Peter shook his head. “No more chugging. The tugboat’s tired. It needs to go to bed.”
Nice try.
But Jake was beyond listening. He flipped onto his tummy in the water, pushing the tugboat and making his motor sound.
Peter turned to Jessie. “Feel free to step in any time.”
“But you’re doing so well.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Of course not,” she fibbed.
“Any suggestions?”
“Well…” Maybe she should give him a crumb. “You could offer him his bedtime snack.”
He gave an aha nod and turned to Jake. “How about a snack, Jake?”
Jake kept pushing the boat and making the chugging noise, totally absorbed in his imaginary world.
“Hey, Jake. What do you like for your snack?” Peter tried again. When Jake ignored him again, Peter turned back to Jessie. “Now what?”
“He’s zoned. You’ll have to pick him up and take him out.”
“Will he cry?” he asked softly, probably so Jake wouldn’t hear.
“Count on it.”
“He’s used to you. Maybe you should do it.”
She gave him a lifted eyebrow. “He’ll cry for me, too. Just make it clean and fast.”
Peter put the towel down. Broad shoulders hunched, he leaned over the tub, poised to snatch the boy and lift him out of the water in his large, masculine hands. Strong and gentle, nails clean and neatly cut.
Neil’s hands had been strong and gentle, too. Sometimes, they’d been cracked and stained from hard farm work even though he used the special soaps she’d given him. Her heart twisted at the memory of her ex-fiancé. “Okay. Go ahead,” she encouraged.
Peter made his move.
With a shriek, Jake’s chubby legs flailed, his slippery body squirming and twisting to get free.
“Whoa, there,” Peter grunted, no doubt surprised by the power one little boy could unleash. He tried to set Jake on his feet on the towel, but churning legs and a squirming body made that impossible. So Peter hugged Jake close instead. “It’s okay, Jake. We’re going to get you dry and dressed so you can have that snack.”
At least his instincts were good. But it was hard to tell whether Jake heard him. He wailed loud enough to alert Jessie’s parents on the patio. She wouldn’t be surprised if Mom popped in to find out what was going on. “Calm down, sweetie,” she cooed as she tucked the towel around Jake.
“He’s never going to forgive me for doing that,” Peter said dismally.
Jessie could almost feel sorry for the man…if she wasn’t worried what he would decide to do when he fell in love with Jake. If he hadn’t already.
Finally, Jake’s crying subsided. “Wan Os,” he said on a hiccough.
Peter looked over Jake’s head at her as if asking her to interpret.
“He wants Cheerios for his snack.” She nodded to let him know Os were an option.
“Sure, Jake. Os sound good,” Peter said.
“Wan Os, wan Os.” Jake sniffed, twisting to get out of Peter’s arms.
“Slow down,” Jessie warned. “You can have Os just as soon as Peter gets you into your diaper and pajamas.”
Peter’s eyebrows shot up. “You sure I’m up to that?”
“Aren’t you?”
He squinted. “How hard can it be?”
Looked like he wasn’t ready to cry uncle anytime soon. She laid a diaper and pj’s on the changing table in the corner of the small room and stepped out of the way.
Peter climbed to his feet, abandoned the towel and laid Jake on the changing table without a hitch. He picked up the diaper, turning it in his hands as he studied it.
Not one to stay still for long, Jake began rolling onto his side.
Jessie lunged toward him.
“Whoa, there, fella.” Peter grabbed Jake to stop him from falling.
Jessie gave a sigh of relief.
“You need to lie down, so I can get this diaper on you,” Peter explained as if he expected the eighteen month old’s complete cooperation.
“Wan Os.” Jake swayed his head and upper torso back and forth to make his point.
“After we get you dressed,” Peter said.
Jake wailed, struggling to free himself.
Jessie grabbed the towels on the floor and began wiping up the water near the tub. If Peter wanted her help, he could ask for it. But she kept a keen eye on his progress.
He held a squirming Jake with one hand while he spread the diaper on the changing table with the other. Then he plunked Jake on the diaper and somehow got it between the little boy’s legs, but he couldn’t seem to figure out how to fasten it. At least, not before Jake kicked free of the diaper and sent it flying.
Things couldn’t be working out better. Suppressing a grin, Jessie flipped the drain and scooped toys into the net bag attached to the wall. “Are you going to get that diaper on him or not?”
Peter raked his free hand through his hair. “A demonstration might expedite things.”
“Are you asking for my help?”
“Please?” He gave her a pathetic look. Well, as pathetic as a strong, handsome, intelligent man can look, anyway.
With an exaggerated sigh, she ambled over to contain Jake while Peter retrieved the diaper from the floor and laid it on the changing table.
Jessie gave Jake a toy car to keep him occupied, lifted him onto the diaper and secured it.
“You sure make it look easy,” Peter commented.
“Experience. Can you handle putting him in his pajamas?”
Peter picked up the train-printed pj’s and looked them over. “Snaps go back or front?”
“Front.” She took the garment and matched top to bottom to show him.
“Got it.”
She wiped down the tub-surround, glancing back to see how things were going.
Shoulders flexing, Peter worked to get the small, struggling boy into his pajamas, then concentrated on matching snaps. “We’re almost finished, Jake,” he promised several times.
Jessie perched on the side of the tub to wait. He must be realizing he wasn’t cut out for parenting by now. One would th
ink, anyway.
Finally, he lifted Jake in the air as he checked his work. “Mission accomplished,” he announced. He did look like he’d been on a mission—a very wet one. His dark hair was soaked and as mussed as short hair can get, and his soaked shirt clung to his chest.
Jessie noticed one lone, unmatched snap on Jake’s pajamas and considered not mentioning it. But only for a second. “You missed a snap.”
“Are you sure?” He gave her an exasperated look as he folded Jake in his arms.
“Of course I’m sure.” She reached for Jake before his dry pajamas were as sodden as Peter was.
Jake hurled himself into her arms. “Wan Os, Mama.”
“Okay.” She concentrated on righting the snap and tried not to feel sorry for Peter in his wet shirt, but she did anyway. “If you want me to throw your shirt in the washer, you can wear one of Dad’s.”
He looked down at his soggy shirt. “That would be great. But I doubt your father wants me wearing his clothes.”
“He won’t mind.” She opened the bathroom closet her mom had converted from linen storage to hold her dad’s clothes. “Take your pick.”
Giving her a wary eye, he chose a worn denim one she hadn’t seen Dad wear for years. “This looks comfortable. It isn’t his favorite, is it?”
Jessie shook her head.
Peter hung the hanger on the shower curtain rod and unbuttoned his shirt. He glanced at Jessie.
She realized she was watching as if a good-looking man taking off his shirt in her bathroom was an everyday occurrence. And not just any man…but the man who’d made a baby with her sister? “I’ll just…uh…” She motioned toward the door.
He raised an eyebrow.
Flustered, she set Jake on his feet on the floor and darted out of the room after him. Well, wasn’t that just lovely? Now Peter would probably think she was attracted to him.
Well, what woman wouldn’t be? After all, he was a very attractive man, wasn’t he?
By the time she got to the kitchen, Jake was pushing a chair to the cupboard. “I’ll get your Os for you.” She took the box from the cupboard and grabbed a small bowl from another shelf.