“Sam. She’s my daughter. She’s my responsibility too. I’m not trying to pay you off. I’m just trying to do the right thing.”
She snaps her mouth shut and swallows. “How much?”
I shrug and give her the figure the attorney told me.
She gasps and shakes her head again. “No. That’s too much. We don’t need that much.”
Sighing, I squeeze her hand. “Just think about it. Or go over your budget and figure out how much you’d be comfortable taking from me to help with Maddie. And let me know.” I’ll be putting the extra in Maddie’s savings account. She can use it for college or whatever when she’s older. But I don’t bother to say that, because I don’t want to argue about this.
She stares at me long enough that I think she’s going to refuse outright again. But at last she nods. “Okay. I’ll think about it.” She pauses, clearing her throat. “You said there were two things. What was the other one?”
“I need to take her to my mom’s. She’s been dying to meet her since before Christmas. But I didn’t want to overwhelm either of you.”
Sam gasps, her free hand covering her mouth. “Oh my god. I’m such an asshole. I didn’t even think about your mom. And your brothers? Are they still here?”
I nod, looking down at our joined hands. “Yeah. One of them followed Dad’s footsteps and went into forestry. The other is an accountant. They’re both married and each have a kid.”
“Maddie has cousins.” Her voice is full of wonder. Then she shakes her head, looking down at her lap. “I can’t believe I didn’t know my daughter has cousins.” A dark splotch appears on her thigh, and she sniffs and wipes at her cheeks. “That just makes me feel worse.” The last sentence is a whispered confession.
“Hey,” I say softly, catching her chin with my fingers and turning her face to mine. “Don’t. It’s done. We’re moving forward, remember? No more regrets.”
Two more tears track down her cheeks from behind her closed eyelids, but she nods. “Okay.”
“You could come too. When I introduce Maddie to my family. If you want.”
“Um …” She bites her lip and takes a deep breath. “I want to. I loved your mom. And I feel like Maddie might be more comfortable. But I’m afraid your family will hate me.”
I turn her face up once again and brush a kiss across her trembling lips. “Let me handle my family, okay? I’ll schedule it for this weekend. It’ll be fine. I promise.”
“Okay.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Samantha
It’ll be fine. It’ll be fine. It’ll be fine.
I chant those words in my head over and over on the way to Aaron’s mom’s house. He met Maddie and me at our place, and we’re driving over in my car, Aaron in the passenger seat making goofy faces at Maddie and making her giggle while I clench the steering wheel in my sweaty palms and try to talk myself out of having a panic attack.
Aaron said he’d handle his family. That everything will be fine.
I’m clinging to those words to keep from throwing up all over my car. That, plus telling myself that everyone’s immediately charmed by Maddie. She’s the cutest kid in the world, and she’s Aaron’s mom’s oldest grandchild. She has to fall in love with her. Right?
Right.
We pull up in front of the familiar house where I spent countless afternoons with Aaron a lifetime ago, and I whisper the reassuring words to myself. “It’ll be fine.”
Aaron looks at me and gives me a smile, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “Everything will be fine,” he repeats.
Everything is not fine.
We get to the front door, and instead of being her charming, bubbly, chatty self that she is with strangers at the grocery store and literally everywhere we go, she hides behind my legs and buries her face in my butt.
Which is awkward for so many reasons.
Aaron’s mom crouches down and tries to cajole Maddie out from behind me. When she doesn’t come, despite me trying to pull her around to my front, Leslie gives me a dirty look, like it’s my fault Maddie decided to be shy right now.
“Come on, Maddie,” I say softly, gently tugging on her arm. “This is Daddy’s mommy. She’s your grandma. She wants to say hi to you.”
Maddie shakes her head against my butt. With a sigh, I give Leslie and Aaron an apologetic look, then try to turn to crouch down to get on Maddie’s level.
But Maddie won’t let go of my jeans, and every time I try to turn, she moves too.
“Maddie, I need you to let go of my pants.”
She shakes her head again.
When Aaron reaches for her arms to try to pry her off me, she lets out an unholy shriek. “Want Mommy!” But I’m not sure anyone can understand her except me, and only because I’m fluent in preschooler screeching.
Dogs start barking around the neighborhood.
And my cheeks are turning pink. I can tell because of all the heat crawling up my neck to my face.
Aaron manages to pry Maddie’s fingers off my clothes long enough for me to drop into a crouch and face her. She immediately latches onto my front and buries her face in my neck.
I stand with her clinging to me like a monkey. “Sorry. She’s usually really friendly and outgoing. I’m not sure why she’s acting like this right now. Maybe if we just go inside and get comfortable, she’ll warm up.”
Leslie purses her lips together and looks me over with an obvious expression of annoyance and disbelief, but she nods and holds the door open for us.
Aaron places his hand low on my back and gives it a rub that I think is supposed to be comforting, but with the death glare I’m getting from his mom when he touches me, it’s anything but.
“It’s funny that she decided I was her best friend almost immediately,” Aaron whispers in my ear.
I try to tell him to shut up with my eyes, but I’m not sure he receives the message, because he just smiles back at me, completely unaware that his mom seems to hate me on sight.
Inside the house looks almost the same as I remember. There are a few new pictures, most notably one of Aaron’s dad in a prominent place on the wall in the entryway. I wonder how he’d feel about all of this?
A wave of sadness swamps me that Maddie will never get to know her other grandfather. I’m sure Aaron and his mom will tell her stories, but it’s not the same. Aaron was close with his dad, so I know he must feel his loss keenly. And another wave of sadness comes that I wasn’t there for Aaron while he was going through that.
I’ve missed so much. Maddie’s missed out on so much. And it’s all my fault.
Even if Aaron’s forgiven me, I need to find a time to apologize to Leslie. And Aaron’s brothers. Despite Aaron’s reassurances, it seems that at least his mom’s forgiveness won’t be so easily won.
I sit on the couch next to Aaron, Maddie still clinging to me, but she lifts her head enough to look around. When she makes eye contact with Leslie, she immediately snaps her face back to my shoulder, her arms tightening around my neck.
Stroking Maddie’s back, I offer Leslie a tentative smile, hoping to make polite conversation for long enough for Maddie to relax. “Thank you for having us over today.”
She sniffs. “Well, it didn’t seem I had much choice but to have you too if I ever wanted to meet my granddaughter.”
“Mom,” Aaron warns.
I swallow, keeping the smile glued to my face. This is no worse than I expected. Than I deserve, if we’re being honest. “It’s okay, Aaron. Your mom has a right to be upset. You were angry for quite a while, too, if you remember. She hasn’t had the opportunity to get past it.” Still stroking Maddie’s back, I speak softly to her. “It’s okay, sweet girl. Your grandma just wants to say hi to you. Can you say hi?”
She shakes her head.
“Really? She might have cookies. Or candy. When I was a teenager, she almost always had cookies when I came over.”
Maddie lifts her head enough to look at me. “You’ve been here before?”<
br />
I nod. “Yes. I used to come here all the time when your daddy and I were younger.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “This used to be one of my favorite places. And your grandma kept a bunch of your daddy’s toys. I bet there’s some cool stuff here for you to play with.”
She blinks her large gray eyes, just the faintest hint of golden brown feathering the outer rim, the influence of my genes. The perfect blend of Aaron and me. This girl deserves to know the other half of her family. Even if Aaron’s mom hates me. I know it’s only because she’s upset about missing out on so much of Maddie’s life.
“I do have cookies,” Leslie says, her voice barely louder than mine. “Chocolate chip. Do you like chocolate chip cookies?”
Maddie turns her head to the side so she can look at Leslie sideways and nods.
Leslie holds out her hand. “If you come with me to the kitchen, we can get you one. Would you like that?”
Maddie’s arm that’s still around my neck pulls tight. “I want Mommy to come too.”
“Okay,” I say lightly. “I’ll come too. Do you want to walk or do you want me to carry you?”
“You carry me.”
As I stand, I don’t miss the stink eye Leslie’s giving me again. But what does she want me to do? Toss my unsuspecting four-year-old at her and leave? This visit would go much worse if I did something like that. I know my child. She’ll just have to deal with doing this on Maddie’s terms. And that means clinging to my neck like I might leave and never return if she lets go. Four-year-old logic defies grownup logic, and there’s no winning in the face of it. It’s not my fault that all her kids are adults and she doesn’t realize that.
Gritting my teeth and reminding myself that I’m here to build bridges, not burn them, I follow Leslie into the kitchen and take a seat at the table while Leslie pulls out the cookies.
“Can she have milk?”
“Yes. No food allergies or anything.”
She nods, pulling out a plastic cup from a stash she obviously keeps for her other grandchildren. “That’s good. Neither of my other grandkids do either. Of course, I don’t have to bribe them to even look at me.”
“Well, I’m sure they’ve known you their whole lives too. So …” I try to keep my voice light, wanting to keep things upbeat for Maddie’s sake. For Aaron’s sake, who’s standing in the doorway to the kitchen watching this exchange with his hands in his pockets. His eyes are narrowed on his mom, but she either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.
My money’s on the latter.
She’s determined to put me in my place for keeping Maddie from her. From Aaron. From all of them.
Despite Aaron wanting to protect me, he can’t actually stop his mom from doing or saying whatever she wants.
“Yes,” Leslie says, “they have. I got to hold both of them at the hospital hours after they were born. I wasn’t afforded the same opportunities with this one.”
“Mom,” Aaron interjects softly. “She’s already apologized.”
Leslie sniffs, turning her gaze on her youngest son. “Maybe to you. But I haven’t heard an apology. And now the time I’m supposed to be able to spend getting to know the granddaughter who’s been kept from me, I’m forced to spend talking to her instead.”
“Mom,” Aaron starts again, his chest puffed out, clearly ready to defend me. To tell off his mom.
“It’s okay, Aaron,” I interrupt before he can get into it. “Don’t. She’s right. I did keep Maddie from all of you.” I turn my gaze on Leslie, whose back is to me again. “I am sorry. You probably don’t believe me, and I’m sure a simple apology doesn’t seem like enough. I thought I was doing the right thing at the time. But I understand now that I’ve hurt more people than I ever realized in the process. And I am sorry for that. I’m sorry that Maddie won’t ever get to know Bruce.”
Leslie turns around, tears in her eyes. But before she can say anything, Maddie interrupts, clearly oblivious to the mood in the room. “Can I have my cookies?”
Leslie lets out a gust of watery laughter. “Yes, Maddie, you can have your cookies. Sorry for making you wait.”
She puts the cap back on the milk jug and replaces it in the fridge before coming over with a small plate with three cookies on it and a cup of milk with a lid and straw.
Maddie’s eyes grow wide at the sight of all those cookies. “Can I have all of them?” she asks me.
I set her in her own chair and scoot the plate and cup in front of her. “Over here where you won’t drop crumbs all over me, though.”
And just like that, she’s fine not being in my arms. I let out a small sigh of relief, but I’m smart enough to know that, apology notwithstanding, I’m not out of the woods yet.
Chapter Thirty
Aaron
Bringing Sam was a mistake.
I realized it as soon as my mom started shooting her dirty looks when we opened the door.
Sam’s handling the barbed comments and not-so-subtle digs better than I am. Every time I start to come to her defense, she silences me with a look or a hand on my leg. Of course, when she touches me, that just makes my mom even angrier.
Which is ridiculous, because I told her that we were exploring the possibility of getting back together.
And until Mom found out about Maddie, she talked about Sam with nostalgia and affection.
That all went out the window on Christmas Eve. Now she curls her lip and wrinkles her nose every time I bring up Sam. And when I told her that Sam would be coming with Maddie, it didn’t matter that it was because I’d invited Sam too, Mom decided it was because Sam doesn’t trust me. Or her. Or she’s poisoning Maddie against us. Or …
Trying to reassure her and talk her down from being nasty to Sam has been exhausting. And futile, because even after Sam’s apology, Mom’s not letting up.
When my brothers and their families appear, I’m hopeful that my brothers will help me keep Mom in check, but if anything it gets worse.
Their wives eye Sam with as much disdain as my mom. Maybe more.
Joey, my oldest brother, stares her down when she says hi. “Well, hello, Sam,” he says at last. “Long time, no see. Lot’s changed since the last time you were here.”
Blushing, Sam nods. “I know. It’s amazing what can happen in just a few years.”
“Right. Secret pregnancies. Surprise grandchildren.” He spreads his hands. “Crazy world, innit?”
“Joey,” I growl. “Knock it off.”
He widens his eyes, trying and failing to portray the picture of innocence. “What?”
“Don’t be an asshole, man.”
“Aaron,” comes the sharp voice of Sarah, his wife. “Watch your language. There are children here. I know you’re new to being a dad, but you’re not that new to being an uncle.”
Gritting my teeth, I turn to Sam and usher her into the living room where Maddie’s playing. Or was. She’s currently clutching her ponies to her chest and staring wide-eyed at her cousin.
“Hey, Maddie. This is your cousin Hunter. He’s just a year younger than you. Hunter, do you want to play with Maddie?”
Hunter bounces up from where he’s crawling on the floor, pushing a car around and making noises. “Sure!” he says in his baby voice, brushing dark hair out of his face. He holds his car out to Maddie. “Wanna pway cars?”
Maddie looks at Sam then at me then holds up a pony. “I like ponies.”
“Lemme see,” he demands, dropping to his knees in front of her and taking a pony from her.
Sam inhales like she might say something, but when Maddie lets him inspect her sparkly purple pony without a peep, Sam relaxes next to me.
“That one’s Sparkly,” she tells him, her voice grave, then holds up the pink pony still in her hand. “This one’s Pinky.”
I have to rub a hand over my mouth to stifle my chuckle given the level of creativity behind the names for her things. Sparkly and Pinky, sparkly and pink ponies. Beary the bear. Turtley the turtle. Uni the unicorn.
She looks up at me, green eyes wide, and shakes her head.
When I get back, two water bottles in hand because even if she doesn’t want it right now, she might in a few minutes, Sam’s settled on the couch watching the kids and having a careful conversation with Sarah. It seems tame, though, centered around the kids and potty training and sleep schedules.
Sarah pulls a disapproving face when Sam mentions that Maddie still ends up in her bed halfway through the night. But she doesn’t really have room to talk, does she? Hunter’s still in pull-ups and can’t be convinced to use a toilet if his life depended on it. She’s the one who’s said over and over that kids do things in their own time. If that philosophy can apply to your kid shitting his pants still, why can’t it apply to another kid learning to sleep on her own?
I keep my thoughts to myself, though, claiming the seat next to Sam and resting my hand on her thigh as I drink my water. She trails off mid-sentence to look at me, then resumes talking.
I offer her a tight smile, glad she’s willing to put up with the shit my family is throwing her way. Yeah, I wish she hadn’t kept Maddie from all of us for all this time. But if I can forgive her, shouldn’t they be able to? If any of us have the right to hold a grudge, it should be me. Maddie’s my kid, after all.
Sam’s mostly silent through dinner with my mom, my brothers and their families, only answering when someone asks her a question. Otherwise, she quietly gets Maddie her food and cuts it up, encouraging her to eat a few more bites when she asks for the cookies my mom promised her for dessert halfway through the meal.
“You can have cookies after everyone’s done with dinner,” Sam tells her quietly. “Eat another bite of chicken, okay?”
Maddie slumps, propping her hand on her face, poking at a bite of chicken with the red plastic fork that matches her red plastic plate and cup.
“Want cookies too!” Hunter yells from his place across the table.
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