Michael will never replace me, she told herself. I’m Cole’s mom. Michael will stay for a few days and then go back to Toronto. Cole will be all mine again, except for a few minutes of Skyping each week.
And, once Michael had gone, the increasingly powerful attraction she felt for him would fade away, too. Of course it would.
Somewhat reassured by her conclusions, and bearing her son’s best interests in mind, she stood and said, “Michael, can I see you in the kitchen for a moment?”
He said, “Sure,” but his slow movements expressed his reluctance to tear himself away from Cole and the construction zone.
In the kitchen, she asked quietly, “Do you still want to commit to being a lifelong dad? Not just for play time, but really being there for Cole?”
“Even more strongly, if that’s possible.”
She studied him, trying to look past his sexy physique and stunning features, reading the sincerity in his eyes. She swallowed, took a breath, and then said, “Okay.”
Those dark eyes widened. “Okay to what, exactly?”
Praying she was doing the right thing, she said, “If you’re absolutely sure you want this, and you’ll never ignore or run out on Cole, then I’m okay with us telling him you’re his dad.”
“Yes!” It exploded out of him, bringing a reluctant smile to her face. “When?” he asked.
Her approach to tough challenges was to face them and get them over with, rather than agonize over them. “Now.”
Chapter Eleven
For the second time in his life, Michael’s heart pounded so vigorously he could hardly draw breath. Back in the front room, Jillian sat on the couch and he seated himself beside her, not touching. Cole was still intent on the mystery mansion, oblivious to the tension in the air.
“Cole,” Jillian said, “leave that alone for a minute. Michael and I want to talk to you.”
“But I’m constructing,” he protested.
“This is more important,” she said.
Huffing, the boy looked up. “What?”
Michael forced breath into his cramped lungs and let it out again. He and Jillian, in a quick strategy talk, had agreed on how to handle this. The announcement would be his. He only wished his son wasn’t glaring so sulkily at them.
“Cole, there’s something we want you to know,” he started. “I’m not just an old friend of your mom’s.” He took another breath and said the rest in a rush. “I’m actually your father.” There was no going back now, and he was glad. But terrified. What if Cole rejected him?
The petulant expression turned into a puzzled frown. “My father? Huh?”
Now it was over to Jillian. “I told you how your father and I agreed that it didn’t make sense for him to be with us, since we lived far apart and had such different lives. But how he sent money every month to make sure you had everything you needed.”
“I don’t have a smartphone,” Cole complained.
Michael promptly added that to his mental Christmas shopping list. He’d already ordered a bunch of stuff online last night, paying for expedited delivery.
“Because you don’t need one,” Jillian said.
Cole tilted his head toward Michael. “So why are you here now?”
“Because I want to know you.”
“You’re moving to Destiny Island? Are you marrying Mom?”
“Uh . . .” Neither he nor Jillian had guessed the boy might leap to these conclusions. “No, Cole. But I’m here for Christmas and I’d like to spend time with you. Then, after I go home to Toronto, I’d like us to keep in touch. Do you know what Skype is? Or FaceTime?”
The boy nodded. “I use Skype with my great-grandparents in Sidney.”
“We can use it, too, and e-mail.” They could text and phone as well, once Cole had opened his Christmas gifts. “And I can come visit again.” Previously, Michael’s vacations—alone or with whatever girlfriend he’d been dating at the time—had been to places with intriguing architecture. His life was in for a big change, but this boy was worth it.
He couldn’t honestly say that he loved Cole, not yet, but he felt something different from anything he’d ever experienced before. Protectiveness, the desire to build the connection between them. The wish for his son to have two parents who were really there for him and supported him, who didn’t just dump a bunch of expectations on him and leave him to the care of an auntie. No offense, Deepa—you’re awesome.
“Huh.” Cole’s eyes squinted like they did when he worked on modifying a Lego design.
“What do you think of all this?” Michael asked.
“It’s okay, I guess.” He cocked his head. “What do I call you?”
He and Jillian had anticipated that question. “Whatever you want to. You could call me Dad or Daddy, or Michael.”
The boy considered. “The kids at school say ‘dad’ or ‘daddy’ unless they have two dads.” He glanced at Jillian. “I don’t have two of them, do I?”
“No, honey,” she said, a touch of humor in her voice. “You definitely don’t.”
“Two dads?” Michael queried. How was that biologically possible?
“A father and a stepfather,” she clarified, “or two gay dads.”
“Oh, got it. That’s not where my mind went first.”
She gave a quick snort of laughter and then said, “You get used to the permutations and combinations of ‘family’ when you’re a parent.”
“Cole,” he said, “you don’t have to decide now. See what you’re good with after we’ve spent more time together. Okay?”
“Okay.” The boy nodded. He seemed more puzzled than upset by tonight’s revelation. “Are you coming to my school’s holiday spectacular tomorrow night? I’m an elf!”
Michael again glanced at Jillian. Would it be awkward for her?
She picked up the ball. “Would you like him to, honey?”
He nodded firmly. “Parents come. I have two parents now.”
Jillian gave a subtle nod of her own, and Michael said, “Then I’d be proud to be there.”
“By the next morning,” she said wryly, “the entire island will know Cole’s dad is here.”
“Are you okay with that?” Michael asked.
She sighed. “Nothing in life stands still.”
Obviously, she was less than happy. Michael, on the other hand, was pretty thrilled. He was a dad, and he was going to see his son up on stage playing an elf. That was damned cool.
Chapter Twelve
On Christmas morning, in her parents’ living room, Jillian raised her Nikon as Cole tore off the paper on the book she’d bought him. It was the third in a series he’d recently discovered, called Spirit Animals. He was down on the floor beside the Christmas tree with an excited Freckles, who pounced on each bit of wrapping paper as Cole discarded it.
A fire crackled in the fireplace, the white snowflake ornaments on the tree glimmered multicolored from the strings of lights, and her parents sat side by side on the couch. Jillian had her mom’s reading chair and Michael sat upright in her dad’s recliner. They’d all assembled at nine, which had allowed Jillian some alone time with her son. He’d been up by six, eager to tear into his stocking. The Scratch Art magic kit in it, along with the pancake breakfast she prepared, had kept him occupied until it was time for the official family Christmas.
A family that now included Michael. As most of the island knew as of two days ago.
The day before last—a Saturday of chilly winter sun—while she’d been flying, Michael, Cole, Freckles, and Cole’s best friend, Jordan, had gone for a hike in Spirit Bluff Park, followed by hot chocolate at Dreamspinner coffee shop. When Jillian had returned home for a quick, early supper, she’d found a picnic laid out. She, Cole, and Michael had snacked on barbecued chicken from the deli, a couple of deli salads, fresh bread from the bakery, and local cheeses.
After, they’d gone to the elementary school for the secular spectacular where each class gave a presentation: songs, plays, whatever they
chose. Her parents had picked up her dad’s parents, and Jillian’s brother Samuel and his wife were there too since their daughter, who was in fourth grade, was also participating in the event.
Conversation at that initial meeting with Michael was stilted, though Jillian had filled her relatives in over the phone ahead of time. Samuel and Grandma Joan in particular surveyed Cole’s father with narrowed eyes. But even they warmed to him when he cheered loudly as Elf Cole took his bow at the conclusion of the Santa’s Workshop skit.
Yesterday, a very busy one for Blue Moon Air, Aaron had brought in the relief pilot he occasionally used, which had allowed both him and Jillian a half day off. She’d flown in the morning, and in the afternoon had gone with Michael and Cole to the Christmas Eve market in Blue Moon Harbor Park by the ocean. They’d bought more treats to supplement last night’s leftovers, and then after dinner driven back to the village for carol singing around the giant decorated tree.
Her parents had gone, too, in their own car, and again her dad’s parents as well as her brother and his family had joined them. She’d always loved how her family stood side by side, a cohesive, supportive unit within the larger community, as together the islanders and a few tourists sang the old, familiar songs. She wondered how it felt for Michael to be part of all this.
After the carol singing, her parents and grandparents followed their own tradition and went off to church. As Michael drove her and Cole home along the west shore of the harbor, he said quietly to her, “I bet you could use an evening alone with your son.” She’d appreciated his sensitivity and taken him up on the offer.
She had needed not only time with Cole, but also time away from Michael. Sometimes playing “family” with him felt too natural, as if they were a real couple. Conversation flowed easily; they laughed together, teased each other. Her hand kept reaching out to touch him, and she had to stop herself. She craved physical intimacy with him.
Eight years ago, he’d been sexy and fun. He was even sexier now, fun in a much better way, and far too interesting and nice and just an all-around good guy. A guy who lived in Toronto. Though he was becoming part of her and Cole’s life in Blue Moon Harbor, she would have no place in his Toronto life. She had to constantly remind herself of that.
And now here they were again, all together. When Michael had arrived this morning, he’d had two huge bags full of beautifully wrapped presents. Some were from him, he’d said. Then, with a you and I know we’re just pretending wink to Cole, he’d said the rest were from Santa, who’d asked him to play delivery boy with the items he couldn’t fit down the Summers’s chimney. Jillian had frowned at the number of gifts, hoping he didn’t intend to spoil Cole rotten.
Cole reached for one of the boxes Michael had brought, and ripped off the paper. “Oh, cool!” Cheeks flushed with excitement, he held up a box labeled “Young Architect.”
Jillian suppressed a grin. Could Michael be any more obvious about his desire to share his interests with his son? It didn’t seem Cole needed much persuasion, though, because he was trying to pry the lid off the box.
“Cole, there are more gifts,” his grandmother reminded him. “Maybe you could find one for me under there?”
“Okay, Granny.” Diverted, he plowed back into the pile under the tree, and handed her a package. “This one’s from Santa.”
The fancy wrapping gave “Santa” away as being Michael. Jillian wondered whether he’d had a store do his wrapping or applied his own creative, detail-oriented brain.
Curious, she watched as her mother unwrapped the gift with neat, precise motions and pulled a gorgeous purple and green silk scarf from a flat box. “This is lovely.” She gazed straight at Michael, looking surprised.
“Santa must have figured you like scarves,” he said.
She did in fact wear them with almost every outfit—and this one would bring out the greenish highlights in her hazel eyes. “Find Santa’s gift for Gramps,” Jillian instructed Cole.
It proved to be a book called The Wild in You, again indicating Michael’s perceptiveness. Her dad loved the outdoors, and the family store carried all the gear he might ever want, but this book with its gorgeous photos and evocative poems celebrated the spirit of the wilderness.
When her turn came, her gift was a chain with a gold seaplane pendant. She gasped. “Oh, Michael”—she caught herself before breaking the pretend-Santa rule—“look what Santa brought me! It’s beautiful.”
He gave a smile of acknowledgment, and Cole returned to doling out presents. Her parents had given Michael a pair of sturdy walking/hiking shoes and a rain jacket—both items from the store. Arriving in Blue Moon Harbor with only city clothes, he’d been borrowing her dad’s outdoor gear until now. Jillian interpreted the gift as signifying acceptance of Michael’s ongoing presence in their lives. Maybe he did, too, because he grinned widely and said, “These are great. They’ll be getting a lot of use.”
Jillian’s gift to him had been scrambled together in every spare moment over the past days. It was an old-fashioned photo album with shots from each year of Cole’s life and from each major event, including a few from the past couple of days. When Michael glanced up from taking his first look through it, she’d swear his eyes were damp.
“I’ll give them all to you as a digital slide show as well,” she told him. “But sometimes it’s nice to have something more concrete.”
He nodded and his Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed.
The tender moment passed quickly as Cole continued to pull gifts from under the tree. As Jillian had feared, the majority were for him, from Michael. When Cole opened yet another box and found a smartphone, he was ecstatic and threw his arms around his dad.
He hadn’t hugged her or her parents in thanks for their more modest gifts. Irritation built within Jillian, and she took a few slow, deliberate breaths. Fastening her new necklace around her neck, she reminded herself that Michael was, in addition to being too wealthy for his own good, a generous guy and a brand-new parent. She should have explained the family rules.
When the gifts had all been opened, Jillian’s mom refilled the adults’ coffee mugs. “Michael,” she said, “are you calling your parents today?”
He dragged his attention away from Cole, who was busy checking apps on his phone. “Since it’s three hours ahead in Toronto, I talked to Dad before I came over. He was at home catching up on work. Deepa, my auntie, and I had a good chat, too. I left a message on Mom’s phone. She’s at the hospital.”
“Your mother works on Christmas Day?” Jillian’s mom asked.
“Usually. It lets a doctor who’s more into the holiday spend it with his or her family.” He glanced around the room and then back to her mom. “They don’t know what they’re missing. Thank you for letting me share this with you.”
Her mom sighed. “Of course. You’re family now.” Jillian knew that her parents, like her, worried about how this would go in the long run. Mom went on. “Have you told them about . . . ?” She cocked her head toward Cole, who was paying no attention to their conversation.
“Not yet. I figure it requires face to face.”
“Yes,” her dad said dryly, “that’s not something I’d want to learn about in a voice mail.”
A vigorous knock sounded on the door. Freckles barked, Cole yelled, “That’s Jordan!” and the boy and dog pelted toward the door. There followed an excited boy-babble along the lines of “What did you get?” and “Wait till you see what I got!” Jordan did at least remember his manners enough to greet the adults, but in mere seconds the boys were down on the floor, going through Cole’s presents.
Jillian’s mom rose and held out her hand to her husband. “Time to stuff the turkey.”
“Woman’s work,” he muttered with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“If you want to carve it, you have to stuff it,” she retorted.
When he went to the kitchen, Amanda held back and, with a head gesture, indicated that she wanted to speak to Jillian. Jillian
went over and her mom quietly said, “Those gifts . . .”
“It’s my fault for not telling Michael our rules. I’ll talk to him.”
She’d rather not have this conversation on Christmas Day, but her annoyance would fester if she didn’t. Going over to Michael, she said, “We need to talk.”
Chapter Thirteen
Looking puzzled, Michael followed her to the apartment. “Is something wrong?” he asked as she seated herself at the table and gestured him to the chair across from her.
“Those presents for Cole. They’re excessive.”
“I’m pretty well off, financially. My business is growing and I inherited some money. I want Cole to have nice stuff.”
She scowled. “I give him nice stuff. So do his other relatives.”
“Sorry. Of course you do. I just mean, well, more stuff. Stuff from me, as his dad.”
“It’s not a competition.” Michael was used to getting what he wanted, and right now she figured he wanted Cole’s affection. Words spilled out, fueled by an anger and fear she hadn’t been aware of until now. “You can’t buy him away from me!”
His eyes widened. “Jeez, is that what you think? Jillian, you’re his mom and he’s with you full time. I only want to build something special between him and me.”
A little embarrassed by her outburst, she sat back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Okay, I get that. But fancy gifts aren’t the way to do it. Spoiling a child isn’t the same as loving him, and a kid who feels entitled isn’t the same as a loving child.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, and after a moment he said, “No. You’re right.”
“I don’t mean to make this about you and your parents, but . . . well, it kind of is about how each of us was raised. I was taught the value of money. Taught to save for things I wanted, not expect my parents to give them to me. I had an allowance but I also worked in my parents’ store. And like I said, at university I waitressed. The deal with my parents was, if I wanted to go to university somewhere other than Victoria where I could live with Mom’s parents, I had to pay for my flights and some of my housing expenses. To me, that was entirely fair.”
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