by Carol Voss
“Oh, honey…” Her mother set down the cash drawer and gave Jessie a hug, then drew back and met her eyes. “After you told us about Peter’s life last night, I can’t imagine he thinks he can take care of Jake.”
With her heart aching, Jessie shook her head. “If only I’d left it alone after Jake’s fall…but I couldn’t. He’s Jake’s daddy, and whether we like it or not, there’s nothing we can do to change that.” Jessie bit her lip. “It would be so much easier if he didn’t seem like a good man who wants to do the right thing.”
“You don’t mean that, Jess. You wouldn’t want a bad father for Jake.”
“No. But it would make it a lot easier to dislike Peter. As it is, I keep thinking, what little boy doesn’t need his daddy? Especially one who’s so interested in him?” She felt sick to her stomach. “But I’ll never forgive myself if I’ve set things in motion to give Peter the confidence he needs to take Jake away.”
Mom patted her arm. “We need to put the situation in God’s hands, dear.”
“How can you be so confident…after what happened to Clarissa?”
Mom gave her a sad smile. “I pray the gospel prayer, ‘Lord, I believe. Help thou mine unbelief.’”
Faith seemed so simple when Mom talked about it. Jessie blew out a breath. Why did she find it so difficult?
When nobody answered the door at Jessie’s home, Peter drove to the diner. He was anxious to see Jake. He sure hoped the little guy had forgiven him for letting him fall last night. Peter was jazzed about taking him to play at the children’s park he’d seen near one of the schools. With Jessie’s supervision, of course. He didn’t trust himself to go solo, and he doubted she would, either.
But who would have guessed he’d have to wait in a long line of chattering people to get into Jessie’s Main Street Diner to see his son? Finally edging inside the noisy place, enticing smells confirmed Jessie’s food was a lot better than the late, so-called dinner he’d eaten near the motel last night. Probably the reason she had so many customers standing in line.
The young woman he’d seen behind the counter yesterday—Lisa—gave him a nod of acknowledgment from her post at the cash register.
He broke from the line. “Is Jake in the back room?”
Lisa frowned. “You’ll have to talk to Jessie about Jake.”
Peering over people’s heads, he spotted Jessie alone behind the counter and headed for her.
A big guy threw out his arm to stop him. “You’ll have to wait in line like everybody else, buddy.”
Peter glanced around as customers closed ranks, preventing him from reaching the counter. “I’m not here to eat,” he tried to explain to the scowling crowd.
“Then you’re in the wrong place,” the big man supplied helpfully.
Peter turned to Lisa, who glanced away. Didn’t look as if he’d get much help there, which made him wish he hadn’t been so pushy with her yesterday when he’d demanded to see Jake. He glanced at the bright, butterfly-patterned curtain that, no doubt, hid his son from him. He’d need a tank to cut through the wall-to-wall customers between him and the curtain.
It didn’t look like he had a lot of choices. He could either start a riot or wait his turn and talk to Jessie at the counter. He settled in for the duration. How long could it take?
Unfortunately, twenty minutes later, the bell over the door still tinkled nonstop, chatter bounced off the old tin ceiling tiles like Ping-Pong balls and Peter still waited in line. The only change was that the delicious smells rising from the grill made his stomach growl with hunger. Maybe he’d have breakfast after all.
Behind the counter, Jessie looked pretty and cheerful in a denim skirt and pink T-shirt with a matching kerchief tying back her hair. She moved as fluidly as a well-trained dancer going through her paces, her limp barely noticeable. She interacted with many of her customers as if they were longtime friends. They probably were.
The tall, unfriendly guy Peter met coming out of Jessie’s back room yesterday eyed him from his seat at the counter. Whatever the guy’s relationship with her was, the way he looked at her told Peter he wanted it to be more. But Jessie’s demeanor said “just friends.” Funny how much that insight pleased Peter.
Finally, a woman vacated her red vinyl stool.
Being next in line, Peter claimed it, catching Jessie’s eye as he sat down.
A frown chasing away her smile, she cleared away the dishes in front of him.
“Good morning,” he said, noting the wariness in her blue eyes. She wasn’t wearing even the touch of makeup she’d worn yesterday. He had the fleeting urge to reach out and touch her smooth, inviting skin. What would she do if he did?
“Coffee?”
“Black, thanks.”
She grasped the coffee pot and filled his cup, her hand shaking enough to slosh a little on the counter.
He hated that he made her nervous. “Thank you. Rough morning?”
“You could say that.” Without meeting his eyes, she whipped a menu from its holder, handed it to him, then moved on to the next customer to fill his cup.
Not exactly friendly. He hoped that didn’t mean she’d changed her mind about teaching him how to handle Jake. Sipping great coffee, Peter studied the menu, his gaze wandering to Jessie turning eggs and sausage on the grill, scooping orders onto plates and delivering them to customers. Compassion, efficiency and a great cook wrapped in a very pretty package. He couldn’t help wondering why she was still single.
Finally, she stopped in front of him. “Have you decided what you’d like?”
“Is Jake in the back?”
“Yes. He’s napping.” Her eyes looked pinched as if she could use a nap, too.
“Can I have some more coffee down here, Jess?” a deep voice boomed.
Jessie jumped as if she’d been caught playing hooky, grabbed the coffee pot and hurried to take care of the demanding customer.
Sipping his coffee, Peter watched her tend the grill, serve customers, hand out checks and clear away dishes from the counter without missing a beat. She headed his way with the coffeepot in hand.
She filled his cup. “Do you know what you’d like?”
“I’ll have number nine on the menu. How long will Jake sleep?”
“Judging by how tired he was, at least a couple hours.” She moved along the counter filling customers’ cups.
Peter sighed. At this rate, it would take him all morning to make plans with Jessie to play with Jake.
“You picked the wrong time to try to talk to her.” The hefty man with thinning hair on Peter’s right took a final bite of toast.
Peter gave the man a look to discourage his interest.
“She’s got her routine down to an art form,” the man said. “And she doesn’t like to be interrupted.”
The look hadn’t worked. Peter felt a little on the cranky side for lack of sleep, and he was only too aware he was wasting valuable time away from his research.
“I’m Jessie’s uncle Harold.”
Great. He’d been rude to her uncle. Peter turned to the man wearing a white shirt and tie and stuck out his hand. “Peter Sheridan.”
Harold wiped his fingers on his napkin before he shook Peter’s hand. “I know who you are. So does most of Noah’s Crossing. Your name was on everybody’s lips at church fellowship this morning.”
What were they doing? Praying for him, too? That couldn’t be good, could it?
“How long are you staying?” Jessie’s uncle asked.
“I need to head home tonight.”
Harold pushed his empty plate away and held Peter’s gaze. “Jessie’s been through some real tough times. We almost lost her in a bad car accident a couple years ago. Then her sister died. Little Jake means the world to her and her folks. I hope you’re not planning to bring more heartache to that family.”
Peter sighed. He should have guessed Jessie’s accident had been life-threatening. It probably explained her limp, too. And gave added credence to Clarissa’s de
cision to take personal leave and come home for her baby’s birth. What if she hadn’t? If she’d stayed in New York, maybe she would never have told her family about Jake, either. “I want to be a father to my son, that’s all.”
“Commendable. How you planning to do that from Madison?”
Peter narrowed his eyes. Jessie’s uncle or not, he wanted to ask the man what business any of this was of his.
Jessie set a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast in front of Peter that smelled as good as it looked. “Uncle Harold, can you handle the cash register until Aunt Lou gets here, please?”
Peter glanced to the empty spot where Lisa had stood.
“Where’s Lisa?” Jessie’s uncle asked.
“She’s not feeling well.”
Harold gave a nod. “Morning sickness.”
Busy clearing Harold’s used dishes, Jessie snapped her head around. “Lisa’s pregnant?”
“That’s what Lou says.”
Jessie frowned as if the news was anything but joyful. “But little Denise is only nine months old.”
“Surprises happen, Jess.”
Shaking her head, she hustled away with the dishes.
Peter was surprised by Jessie’s reaction to the news of a baby on the way. The way she was with Jake, she had to love babies.
Jessie wiped the counter in front of her uncle.
“I’ll get right on that register. And Lou should be finishing up leading her Bible study about now,” Harold said. “She’ll be here soon so you can leave like you planned, Jess.”
“Thank you,” she said.
It sounded like Jessie had already made time for him and Jake to be together. Peter took a bite of tasty bacon.
Harold stood and gave Peter’s shoulder a couple thumps. “Glad to meet you, Peter.”
“Same here,” Peter said absently. He was anxious to talk to Jessie about taking Jake to the park.
Harold walked away as a tall man in work overalls took the stool beside Peter.
Jessie set a glass of orange juice on the counter for Peter and topped off his coffee. “Anything else I can get you?”
Peter didn’t waste any time. “I was thinking we could take Jake to the playground this morning.”
“We can take him for a little while if you want, but I won’t be free until after one.”
“But your uncle just said you could leave soon.”
“Aunt Lou and Mom will take over here so I can go to the late church service.”
“Do you take Jake with you?”
“Sometimes. When he takes a shorter nap than today. But we can meet you at the park on Maple about one-thirty.”
“One-thirty? Church lasts that long?”
“After church, I need to finish things up here. I close the diner at noon on Sundays.”
Peter shut his eyes, trying to rein in his frustration. “I was hoping I could spend time with Jake this morning, then get on the road back to the lab.”
“I’m sorry, Peter. One-thirty is the best I can do.” With that, she hurried away again.
Peter stared at his breakfast, his appetite gone. Sure, Jessie had promised to teach him about Jake, but she controlled the entire situation. And it was pretty obvious she had no idea the limited time he had to spend with his son.
If he was going to be a real part of Jake’s life, he couldn’t just wait around for her to call all the shots. He needed to take control and find a way to make things happen.
Chapter Six
Sun warm on her head, Jessie peered through the lens, waiting for the perfect picture. Bringing her camera to the park had been an afterthought. A thought that seemed to lift Peter out of the glum mood he’d left the diner with this morning. He’d seemed surprised she planned to snap a few pictures of him with Jake.
Truth was, sitting in church she’d had a conscience attack of sorts. God had helped her see that Peter hadn’t deliberately set out to ruin her life. He was, after all, only trying to deal with a difficult situation, wasn’t he? How many men would handle it as well as he was? Especially one with his heavy responsibilities?
So maybe she could cut him a break. Maybe try being a little nicer.
She snapped a picture of him pushing Jake in the child’s swing. A memory of Neil pushing his nephew in a swing flitted into Jessie’s mind. Her heart ached for the happy days they’d shared…for the life they’d planned…for the family they’d never have.
Don’t go there, Jessie.
She clicked the lens. “Good one.” The giant man; the tiny boy. The father and his miniature, lookalike son. Any mother would be hard pressed to find a more touching subject.
Lowering the camera, she watched them interact. They were already bonding, no question about that. A twinge of loss nudged her. Jake had belonged only to her and her family before Peter showed up. Would she have to give him up? Would she learn to share him?
What must it be like to completely share a child? To conceive a baby with the man you loved, to share the baby’s growth in your womb, to experience the birth together? Like her younger cousin Lisa would be doing. Again. I want to be happy for her, God. I do. But she already has her adorable little Denise. And now she gets to experience the whole miracle all over again. Throat closing, she concentrated on snapping another picture.
Peter twisted the swing and let Jake spin.
Jake squealed with laughter.
Jessie cringed. A little too rough for her taste, even if her dad did remind her Jake was a sturdy boy every time they roughhoused. She raised the camera and snapped a picture.
Peter lifted the swing above his head, his long, lean body stretching to the sky, his muscular legs planted firmly on the ground.
Jessie took a quick breath, her fingers taking a couple extra seconds to find the button on the camera.
“Want an underduck, Jake?” Peter asked.
“Undaduck!” Jake shouted.
All muscles and action, Peter ran under the swing and let it go.
Jake screeched with laughter, the swing flying far too high.
Jessie clicked the lens. “That’s too high for him, Peter.”
“He loves going high.”
“But if his head jerks back, he could injure his neck.”
Peter frowned.
“Pedo! More undaduck!” Jake swung more slowly now.
Peter glanced at Jessie.
She shook her head. “He doesn’t know what’s safe and what isn’t. That’s our job.” Our job? She sounded as if they were a real family. A real family just having everyday fun together. What must that be like?
“Pedo! Undaduck!”
Peter stepped close to Jake and gave him a modified underduck. “Better?”
Jessie nodded, relieved he’d deferred to her with Jake’s safety.
“Pedo! Big undaduck!”
Peter chuckled. “Can’t do, fella. You have to get bigger for that.”
Jake pulled his pout.
Time for distraction. “You want to go on the slide?” Jessie asked.
“Slide.” Jake drew his legs up and tried to stand in the swing.
Jessie tensed.
Thankfully, Peter grabbed him before he could fall. “You’re a little daredevil.”
“Pedo divil?” Jake patted Peter’s face.
Peter laughed.
Jessie snapped a picture. “Don’t forget, words you teach him will come back to bite you.”
“No doubt.” Peter lifted Jake over his head to straddle his shoulders.
Fully appreciating the view in her lens, she snapped a great picture.
“Is it my imagination or are little kids a breath away from disaster at any given moment?” Peter asked.
Jessie narrowed her eyes. “Do you think I worry too much about him?”
“In a good way.”
She met his smiling eyes, her stomach doing a little flip. He looked so much happier than he had yesterday. “Dad says I’ll make a hothouse flower out of him.”
Jake began bouncin
g on Peter’s shoulders.
Peter grasped his legs more firmly. “I doubt there’s much danger of Jake becoming a hothouse flower.”
She laughed, glad to hear another male’s opinion on Jake. “I’ll tell my father you said that the next time he teases me.”
Peter ran his gaze over her face. “You have a nice laugh.”
“Thank you.” She inwardly cringed at the breathiness in her voice. Might as well flash a neon sign announcing “Aware and Interested Female Here.” Which wasn’t true. She’d given up that dream when Neil broke off their engagement.
Her dream of a husband and family wasn’t all the accident stole from her. After her broken engagement and Clarissa’s death, everybody looked at her in a whole new way than they had when she was the cheerleader dating the town’s prize athlete, the prom-and home-coming queen, the girl voted most likely to succeed in whatever she did. Now, they saw her as a victim who needed help. She hated it.
Somehow, Peter made her feel like that whole person again. It was nice to be around someone besides Jake who didn’t feel sorry for her. She sighed. But who knew what the man was planning behind those rich brown eyes?
Reaching for a new train of thought, she pointed to the slide. “I’ll take your picture with Jake on the ladder. But the slide’s too high for him to go down alone.”
“I can’t remember the last time I was on one of those things.” Peter headed for the ladder, posed at the top with Jake, then stretched his long legs in front of him and zipped down the slide with Jake in his lap. Peter’s deep laugh resonated along with Jake’s squeals.
Jessie couldn’t help smiling.
“Would you like me to take a picture of you with your lovely little family?” a small, white-haired woman sitting on a nearby park bench offered.
Jessie should correct the woman’s mistake, but instead, she found herself handing her the camera. “That’s very kind.”
Peter carried Jake across the grass.
“Peter, this kind lady has offered to take a picture of us.”