Author: Robyn Carr

“Well, if you really were pregnant. If you had a baby. Or maybe decided not to take a chance on one, given the father. I thought about contacting you. Then I thought better of it. I didn’t want to stir up any bad memories for you. I thought you’d be better off, you know?”

The waitress put the coffees on the table, but they both ignored them.

Gina shoved her list back in her purse, a little angry. “Better off, how?”

“Look, Gina, I know what I did to you was low. It was so wrong nothing could make it right. I wanted to say I was sorry, but sorry was so lame I couldn’t even choke it out. By the time I could’ve apologized, so much time had passed, I figured I’d be like a bad dream. And you didn’t need that.”

“Is that so?” she asked. “So, checking to see if you actually had a child, you thought that would be a bad idea. You thought—”

“I was in prison, Gina.”

Well. Gunshot to the heart. She felt all the color drain from her face. “Prison?” she asked weakly.

“Armed robbery. Seven years and I served five. I’m not making excuses here, but I was kind of along for the ride. I made a few bad friends and at that time in my life I thought bad was very cool. I think someone dropped me on my head when I was a baby. I’m sorry, Gina. I’m really sorry. You’re just one of many people I disappointed.”

She was stunned silent for a moment. “Right,” she finally said. Hands shaking, she pulled her list out again. “Diabetes?” she asked. “Metabolic issues, like Crohn’s disease?”

He covered her hand. “I’m not a dangerous person,” he said. “I’ve turned my life around. But to a kid, that news wouldn’t be important. I wouldn’t want the reputation that goes with having a con for a dad. I won’t bother you. Or your daughter.”

“You seem to be doing okay for yourself now,” she said.

He gave a nod. “When you’re an ex-con, getting work is almost impossible. My brother-in-law helped me land a job in a run-down body shop. It went into foreclosure and he helped me buy the auctioned property. I was probably too young and inexperienced for it, but it was a lot better than begging for a chance, a break. So, I worked hard, ran it for a few years with ex-cons I knew were okay and we turned it around. What you see is a rebuilt and highly leveraged business, but an honest and dependable one. The last couple of years, even in this economy, have been good years.” He took a breath. “I haven’t been in trouble since. You can check that.”

“I should probably just go....”

“I have some money put aside. No other children,” he said, shaking his head. “If you can use a hand...let me know. You wouldn’t have to tell her where it came from.”

“I don’t need anything,” she said. “I just wanted to know about the medical history.”

“And now you probably know way more than you wanted to know.”

She nodded. “Wow. I knew you were trouble back then, but I never...” Then she blanched. “I mean...”

“I know exactly what you mean, Gina. Listen, I realize I have no right, but can you tell me about her? I promise not to bother her or you.”

Gina thought about this for a long moment. Then she pulled her cell phone out of her purse, clicked on the picture gallery and passed it to him. The first picture was one she’d taken at a Thunder High basketball game. Ashley was smiling, red hair shining, green eyes twinkling, her pom-poms under her chin. She was stunning.

And she saw him almost crumble. He cradled the phone in both hands, a look of wonder came over him. He had to glance away briefly to compose himself. “She’s so beautiful,” he said in a strained whisper.

“There are more. You can scroll through.”

He took his time with the pictures and awe was obvious on his face. She had about a hundred pictures—Ashley fooling around with friends, sleeping, laughing, cheering, studying with Eve, hugging her grandmother, sitting at the counter at the diner. It was a long while before he stopped and looked at her. He laughed uncomfortably. “I better stay out of Thunder Point or the whole town will know who I am.”

“Her resemblance to you is unmistakable, that’s for sure.”

“Are you married now? Do you have someone?” he asked.

“Not married, but yes, I have someone. You?”

He nodded. “A fiancée. She’s thirty. A web designer.” He laughed. “Hard to pull her away from the computer and out of the house. But she’s amazingly talented. She wants her own company. Who is your guy?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. She grinned. “The Deputy Sheriff.”

He smirked. “Figures. Well, I’m not in trouble anymore. Tell me more about her. About Ashley. Something happened. There’s some reason you’re here asking about diabetes and Crohn’s disease.”

“She had a breakdown,” Gina said simply. “She had a serious boyfriend, first love, and he dumped her and I could barely get her out of bed. She was saying things I couldn’t deal with—like that she didn’t even want to live. And then—” She stopped. She swallowed. Was this the kind of private stuff you don’t tell a stranger, even if he’s the father of your child? And without thinking any further she said, “And then the mean girl he’s now dating used Photoshop on a picture of her with naked boobs and texted it to everyone on his phone list. It was up on the internet. She collapsed. I had to have her hospitalized.”

His face darkened, then grew crimson. He steepled his fingers to keep his hands from shaking. Then he pursed his lips.

“We were afraid we could be dealing with clinical depression, but the doctor is convinced she was just in crisis. She’s home now, doing much better. Except for some emotional disappointment now and then, she’s getting her strength back. But it was that crisis that led me to search you out, to ask about family medical history. I was scared to death, I don’t mind telling you that.”

“Who would do something like that?” he asked in a whisper.

She actually laughed, but it wasn’t a happy laugh. “A mean and jealous teenage girl would. Really, Eric, you have no idea how cruel people can be.” And then she thought about what she’d said. The man had spent five years in prison. Chances were he knew.

But he was gazing at her with serious eyes. “It must have been so hard,” he said softly. “Raising her alone.”

“There were hard times,” she admitted. “But I had my mother. And like you, I’ve made a good life for myself. I have strong relationships in Thunder Point and Ashley has a very solid support network and good friends. And I’m watching, I’m always watching. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

“If there’s anything I can do. Any way I can help. Like I said, I have a little money set aside and she wouldn’t have to know her father is a—”

“When Ashley is older, when I’m sure she’s stable and feeling good about herself, I’ll tell her about you. I mean, the new you—I’ve been honest with her about my past. Right now? I think we just leave it alone. No, I don’t want your money. But thank you for offering.”

“I only ask one thing, Gina. One small thing.” He pulled a card from his shirt pocket. “It’s my cell phone number. If there’s ever anything I can do for her. Anything. Will you call me?”

She stared at the number. “If I’d come around five years ago and asked for help, would you have been this receptive?”

“I changed my life,” he said. “I had to. The path I was on, I was going to die ugly and young. And hard as it is to believe, I didn’t want to. Five years ago? Yes, I think I would’ve tried to help—I was well on my way to a better life by then. But I’m sure now, beyond a doubt. If you need me, if Ashley needs me, I can do my best. If I could meet her someday... Ah, I’m not pushing on that. That’s just fantasy. But if she ever needs help, just call me.”

* * *

They talked for another half hour—she gave him news of the town, he told her about his family and some of his misadventures. Gina cried a little on the way home. It was not about regret. It was about gratitude. Her mother always said things happened the way they were supposed to. If she’d found a way to strap Eric to her seventeen years ago, she’d have found herself stuck with a felon; an irresponsible and heartless bad boy. But the world had done its job to shape him while she and Ashley were busy building their family together. And now, unless she was no judge at all, he really had rebuilt his character and his life.

She was lucky. She had Mac, the love of her life. And a phone number for emergencies.

Twelve

Cooper had to force himself to call Austin to start a dialogue and he had never found anything so unnatural or difficult. Making small talk with a shy ten-year-old was torture. Cooper asked him about school, about his grandparents, his dad, baseball. Austin responded with one-word answers then, invariably, Cooper would ask for Spencer so he could get the lowdown on how Austin was holding up since his mother’s passing.

“He’s doing well,” Spencer said. “He’s resilient and I think he was more than ready to start thinking about normal things. The last few years have been really hard on him.”

“And how about learning he has a new biological father on the scene?” Cooper asked.

“It’s news to you, Cooper, but we told Austin months before Bridget passed. He’s ten—if he was going to have another dad on the scene, all he hoped for was a cool one. You passed the cool test with your Jet Ski and Harley.”

About ten days later, Austin was more relaxed on his call with Cooper. He used more than one-word answers and even seemed to enjoy the conversation a little bit.

Soon after making regular calls to Austin and Spencer, and at Spencer’s invitation, Cooper packed a duffel and headed to Texas for a weekend visit. Spencer and Cooper took Austin and one of his friends, James, out for pizza on Friday night. Cooper realized that what greased their relationship best was James. The boys got to laughing and screwing around, eventually running off to play video games in the pizza parlor.

“You’re a genius,” he told Spencer. “Bringing James along made it so much easier.”

“Austin has been drowning in adults for months, especially while Bridget went through the last of her illness. He’d almost forgotten how to have fun.”

“How’s he doing back at school?” Cooper asked.

“He seems relieved to be there. Like he’s so goddamn tired of being serious, of being sad. It’s awful seeing a ten-year-old act like an old man.”

“You did a better job with him, especially through all these adjustments, than I ever could have. I wouldn’t have known where to start.”

“You would if you’d had him in your life since he was born,” Spencer said. “I think you’re doing fine.”

“Listen, something’s been on my mind,” he said, looking at Spencer. “Bridget wasn’t cheating on you or anything. You’re comfortable with that now, right?”

“Now, yes. I admit it took me a while. I know how it was. At least I think I do. You broke up. She started dating me a few months later, but we were taking it slow. She was trying to make sure it wasn’t a rebound thing. Finally she was ready to get more serious. I’d been ready first, that’s the fact. We were both pretty surprised by the pregnancy. We both thought it happened the first time....”

“I was having trouble with all the things that went along with the commitment. I was good with the fidelity part. I loved Bridget, or at least I thought I did at the time. But I wasn’t ready for stability and family life, and she was smart enough to get that. I wasn’t willing to give up anything to make us work. That’s why we broke up. But I kept coming back. We had history, that’s all it was. It was comfortable and familiar. Then I came back too late—I called her and she told me she was through fooling around, that she’d met someone who could actually make compromises and she was in love.” He gave a shrug. “I was pretty pissed, to tell you the truth. I didn’t contact her again for six months. And you know the rest.”