His-and-Hers Family

He held up a bag. “Dinner.”

“I don’t think—”

“For three,” he said, cutting her off. “In case you have company.”

“I’m alone,” she said as her suspicions soared. “And I’m not hungry.”

He raised both brows. “Are you sure?”

Fiona fought the impulse to close the door. She didn’t want to be nice to him. But she wanted to know more about her daughter, and he was the key.

“You can come in.” She stood to the side and allowed him to cross the threshold.

He wore beige cargoes and a black golf shirt, and she couldn’t stop herself from checking him out. Okay, so the man had a nice body. She wasn’t a rock. She was a perfectly normal woman reacting to a good-looking man. She wasn’t about to beat herself up about it.

“Thank you,” he said and walked past her. “Where do you want this?” he asked as he motioned to the bag in his hand. “Chinese. A bit of everything because I wasn’t sure what you liked.”

“The kitchen,” she replied as she shut the door and then frowned as Muffin, the traitor, jumped up and down excitedly by Wyatt’s feet, demanding attention. “This way.”

He patted the dog for a moment before following her. When they reached the kitchen, Fiona stood on one side of the small square table and waited for him to take his place on the other side. She needed something between them.

She watched as he unloaded half a dozen small containers from the bag, then pulled out two sets of cutlery and a couple of serving spoons and grabbed two beers from the fridge. “Only light beer, I’m afraid.”

“No problem.”

Fiona placed everything on the table and scraped a chair across the tiled floor. “How did you know I’d be home tonight?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t. I took a chance. It’s a school night … and I figured you’d stay in.”

Fiona pushed both beers toward him and he disposed of the caps quickly. “Actually, I didn’t work today.” When he didn’t respond, she explained. “I wasn’t much good for anything after our conversation yesterday.”

He pushed a beer back toward her. “That’s honest.”

“One of my many flaws,” she said and took a small sip. “I have plenty. I often blurt things out before I think about what I’m saying. And I have a bad temper.”

His blue eyes shone brilliantly. “Really?”

Fiona started opening the tops of the cartons and when she was done scooped a dumpling out of one of them with her fork. “Big surprise, huh?”

He grabbed a carton of noodles. “So, is there a boyfriend or significant other in the picture?”

She looked at him and colored beneath his penetrating stare. “Just me.”

“Good,” he said and piled food onto his fork. “More noodles for us.”

Fiona was tempted to smile. There was a casual, easygoing way about his mood and she liked it. Too much. She didn’t want to think about him that way. He was her ticket to her daughter, and she had to keep her head on straight. Imagining anything else was nonsensical.

“Wyatt …” She lingered over his name and discovered she liked the sound of it rolling around on her tongue. “What are you really doing here? I know it’s not to share Chinese food or inquire about my love life.”

He placed the fork on the small cardboard container. “I was concerned about you.”

Fiona’s skin tingled. “There’s no need to be,” she assured him. “I’m fine. I’m always fine.”

“So you’re fine?”

He was smiling at her, and Fiona experienced a strange dip low in her belly. Really low. She marshaled her wits. “So what have you decided to do about Cecily?”

He looked at her. “After our conversation yesterday, I thought it was more about what you wanted to do?”

I want to see her.

“I don’t really know,” she said instead. “I thought I did. I thought I knew how I’d react if this moment ever came. Instead I’m completely unprepared. In my mind, when I played this moment over and over, Cecily was an adult and came to find me on her own. Then I could have faced her as an adult. But she’s a child and I know I have to be the strong one … like I should know exactly how to respond and react. But I don’t,” she admitted. “Part of me is overjoyed. The other part …” She paused, waited and couldn’t believe she was exposing her most vulnerable thoughts. “The other part almost wishes you’d never come here.”

The air crackled as she waited for him to respond. “You are strong, Fiona. Anyone can see that. But I don’t want you to have any illusions,” he said directly. “Cecily wants this reunion—but she’s a kid and at the moment is caught up in the excitement of the prospect of reconnecting with her birth mother. Once the dust settles and the novelty passes, the questions will start. And perhaps the blame. Are you ready for that?”

No, I’m not. She knew what questions would come. But she wasn’t about to admit that to the man in front of her. “Are you saying I can see her? That you approve of me?”

Wyatt wasn’t sure what he was feeling. He’d read the investigator’s report and could easily come to the conclusion that Fiona Walsh was a good person. She was a schoolteacher and had friends in the small community. Was it enough? She seemed suitable to connect with Cecily. But he’d been wrong before. And he couldn’t be sure what Fiona intended, either, despite what she said. He knew what Cecily wanted, and that didn’t make the decision any easier. She was as headstrong as they came, particularly on this issue. But there was bound to be fallout—and he didn’t want his niece, his family or Fiona paying a heavy emotional price.

“I think … I think you’ll do what’s right for Cecily.”

“I will,” she said solemnly. “You have my word. My promise.” She stalled for a second and then spoke again. “What’s she like?”

“She’s terrific. Cecily’s a nice kid, but she doesn’t hold back. She says what she thinks, blurts out whatever is on her mind and has a temper to match her red hair.” His mouth flattened in a half smile. “Sound familiar?”

She nodded, and Wyatt saw her eyes shining just a little bit more than usual. “Do you have a picture?”

“Of Cecily? Yes,” he said and took out his smartphone. He pressed a couple of buttons and passed it to her.

Silence stretched between them. Food and beer were forgotten. She blinked a few times and drew in a deep breath as she stared at the picture on the small screen. The resemblance between them was unmistakable, and Wyatt knew that seeing her daughter’s image for the first time was difficult for her.

“Thank you,” she said and pushed the phone across the table. “Can you send me a copy of that?”

“Sure.” Wyatt popped it back into his pocket. “Have you any questions?”

“Hundreds.”

He grinned and reclaimed his fork. “Fire away.”

“Does she like school?”

“Yes. She’s a good student.”

“She has friends?”

“More than I could count.”

She nodded. “Is she happy?”