And if not?
He wouldn’t think about it. He’d be a good parent. Period.
Claire grinned. “You realize what this means, right?”
He frowned. “No clue.”
“You’re going to have to break the news to Aunt Sally she won’t be meeting Macy yet.”
* * *
“Come on.” Stephanie pulled Macy by the hand through the parking lot of Johnson’s Pumpkin Patch Saturday afternoon. Cars and trucks crawled along the lane until a flagger directed them to park in a field. She scurried through the couples as best as she could.
Boy, it was busy. Laughter, conversation and the occasional squeal punctured the festive atmosphere. Attracted to the sweetness of the nearby apple trees, bees swarmed about the picnic tables she passed. The sun shone hot on her face, and she drank in the aroma of homemade doughnuts. Cinnamon. Her stomach grumbled.
Macy’s hand began to slip from her fingers, but she gripped it tighter. “We’re late, so please walk faster.”
“Why are we meeting him here, Mommy?” Macy whined, each step deliberately slow. Her sling tapped against her little chest to the rhythm of their movements. “Why didn’t we come, just us?”
Stephanie inwardly sighed. Between working full-time, all the hours spent at school, then hunching over homework each evening, she understood why Macy clung to her when they were together. Even when they went to the park, Macy never ran off to play with other kids. She wanted her mom all to herself.
“Because it’s good to have friends.” Stephanie beamed. Maybe her lame answer would put a stop to more questions. If the guilt about not telling Tom was bad, the guilt about not giving Macy a father was worse.
“Don’t want no more friends.” Macy’s knees inched higher as she marched.
“Don’t be silly. Everyone wants friends. You like Tatum at preschool, right? And Josie at day care.”
Macy dug her heels in and yanked back. Now what?
“You don’t need more friends. You have me.” Her glistening eyes pleaded with Stephanie.
She knelt and tweaked Macy’s nose. “Of course I have you. And we’re best friends. But I’m your mom, too. And we both can have other friends.”
“I don’t like him.” Her lower lip bulged.
“Why not?” Why would Macy already not like Tom? She’d seemed fine with him at McDonald’s.
In her pink fleece jacket and pigtails riding high on her head, Macy bobbed her chin and scrunched her face up into a major pout. “I’m not going.”
Stephanie straightened. Not now. A temper tantrum when they were already running late? Couldn’t one thing in her life be easy? Just once?
“You are going.” She put her stern tone on. “This isn’t your decision. We’re meeting Tom here, picking out pumpkins, and you will use your manners.”
Macy stomped her foot.
“That is unacceptable, Macy. Do you hear me?”
Macy’s nose soared, defiance radiating out of her.
Patience. Give me patience.
Might be time for a change of tactic. An act of desperation, surely, and not one any parenting expert would condone, but something had to be done. “I thought you wanted a doughnut. If you forget your manners, you will not get one.”
“I want a doughnut!” Macy’s eyes widened.
“Well, then, you’ll have to behave.”
A moment passed before Macy sighed. “Yes, Mommy.”
Stephanie reached for her hand again. They hustled toward the big barn converted to a country store. Macy oohed over an orange cat running by, and Stephanie craned her neck to see through the clusters of people. Tom’s tall, athletic frame rounded the corner, and her pulse thumped, then sped up. His easy smile? Just like when they first met. In a navy blue pullover and jeans, he attracted several female stares, yet he appeared oblivious to the admiration. She tightened her hold around Macy’s hand.
“Ouch, Mommy.”
“Sorry.” All worked up over six feet of strapping male. And why not? They’d been good together, once upon a time.
He squatted in front of Macy, grinned and held out his hand. “I believe we met already, Miss Macy. How are you doing today? Are you ready to pick out a pumpkin?”
Macy hesitated, but she eventually shook his hand, her eyes stony.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you like pumpkins?” He righted himself to a standing position.
Stephanie nudged her.
“They’re all right.” Macy sounded as enthused as she did when she had to get a booster shot.
“Thanks for meeting us here, Tom.” Stephanie plastered her widest smile on. “Why don’t we mosey out to the field? Which patch is the best, do you think?”
With questions in his eyes, he glanced at Macy, who was now picking at her sling. “Looks like a lot of people are headed that way.” He pointed to a lane where kids ran ahead, moms pushed strollers and dads toted young boys or girls on their shoulders.
“Do you want a ride, Macy?” He tapped his shoulders.
She shook her head, pigtails slapping the sides of her face.
“Okay.” He frowned.
Stephanie considered pulling him aside to explain, but what could she say? Macy isn’t really a brat. She’s acting like one because she doesn’t want to share me. Yeah, that would sound great. Stephanie did the best she could as a single mom, and sometimes it wasn’t good enough. When she’d lived with Dad, it hadn’t been as bad. He played with Macy while Stephanie tackled a term paper. He soothed the tension when her patience vanished.
She peeked at her daughter, clutching her hand. How would Tom fall in love with Macy if she acted like a sullen statue?
They made their way to the lane. Ducks flew overhead in a V formation, and a line of trees swished in the light wind.
“So what have you been up to?” Stephanie forced a cheery tone. “How is your family?”
His sharp glance ratcheted her nerves. “They’re good. Claire got married this summer, Libby earlier this year. Bryan and I run all the dealerships, and we share a house. Sam took over as CEO of Sheffield Auto last fall.”
“Your dad retired?”
“Yes and no.” He chuckled. “He retired from the auto business to be a superintendent for my brother-in-law. Dad is in construction now.”