The Daddy Dilemma

Big sigh from Beth. “You know mechanics. I’m sitting here at the garage cooling my heels and now he tells me it’s going to be midafternoon before it’s fixed. A part has to be sent over. There’s no way I. can get to your place before three. Go ahead and tell me I’m the worst client ever, but I need to beg for another favor. Can you keep Ashley a bit longer?”

A bit? Three o’clock was almost six hours from now. But what choice did she have? “I suppose I can hold down the fort until three.”

“You’re a dear, Mackie. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Promise.”

“Car trouble...that was the emergency? She used to be more original than that,” Gordon taunted as Mackie hung up the phone.

“Give it a rest,” Mackie snapped. “Beth’s doing the best she can. Not everyone can afford cars that don’t break down at the most inconvenient times. Shiny new Infiniti vans like you’ve got parked out front don’t fit most budgets.”

“Would Beth go away if I bought her a new car? She can have an Infiniti, too, if she wants. Or a Mercedes. Her choice. You can tell her that if she ever arrives. As for me and Ash, we’re going home.”

“Leave with my blessings; only Ashley stays here.”

“No way. When Beth comes, I’ll zip right over here and hand Ashley over... just like the judge ordered. But in the meantime, I need a shower and she needs a chance to wander around somewhere safe.”

Mackie bristled. “You act like my home is seeded with land mines.”

“Almost. You’re damn sure not equipped for a fifteen-month-old. Those steep stairs are a hazard to grown-ups much less kids and I have yet to spot a plug protector or cabinet guard.

“Besides, how long do you think that white upholstery and those oriental rugs will hold up to a toddler’s abuse?”

“That’s my problem.”

“No, it’s Beth’s problem and she’s not here to handle it. I don’t think the judge gave Ashley’s mother temporary custody for the weekend only for her to turn around and transfer it to her lawyer.”

“There are extenuating circumstances here, Mr. Galloway,” she protested. “And most reasonable people would extend some leeway to Beth. After all, car problems can be overwhelming.”

Gordon took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Be that as it may, if it weren’t the car, then Beth would find something else to be overwhelmed about. She always does. She was overwhelmed when she got pregnant, when she delivered, when she came home with the baby. Do you realize that she ignored her daughter from the very beginning? Didn’t want to hold her, cuddle her, feed her?”

“Symptoms of postpartum depression at its most severe,” Mackie defended.

“A lot of women suffer depression after giving birth but they don’t abandon a month-old infant like Beth did.”

“How can you blame her for something she had no control over? Her behavior was the result of a medical condition.”

Gordon poured more coffee into his cup, then turned to face her. “I blame her because I think she latched on to the handy label of postpartum depression to get sympathy. She’s got a medical condition all right—she was born without a heart. And there’s no cure for that.”

“Why are you so hostile, so unforgiving? You don’t give your former wife an inch.”

Gordon, agitated, almost sloshed the coffee out of his cup. “Lady, my concern is for my daughter. If you were in my shoes, you’d act just like me. Only you’re not, and you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know a lot more than you think.”

“I’m aware you’re a family rights advocate, a do-gooder who volunteers a lot of hours to help women who are down and out—”

“Been checking up on me?” she broke in.

“Through my attorneys. It pays to know a little about your adversaries. The point I’m trying to get to is that with your background, surely you’ve come across one or two rotten apples who need a boot to the behind more than a pat on the head.”

“Yes, but that’s not the case here—”

Before she could speak further, they were interrupted by Ashley’s tearing up.

“Look at that. We’re upsetting her,” Gordon scolded. “She isn’t used to hearing adults’ squabbling.”

“The last thing I want to do is make Ashley cry. But don’t expect me to simply remain mum while you attack my client.”

“Forever loyal. You’re probably...” Gordon shook his head. “You’re probably even representing Beth pro bono. That’s it, isn’t it? You’re busting your rear, providing her legal representation, even taking care of her child, and Beth’s not even paying you a fee.”

Mackie grimaced. From Gordon’s lips, her humanitarian deed sounded like the height of stupidity. What was it to him, anyway? “My being paid or not paid is immaterial. I’ll have you know—”

In the midst of being read the riot act, Galloway flashed her a disarming smile. “Actually it is material,” he said. “Clues me in to the fact that you and I have something in common.”

“We do? I can hardly imagine what.”

“Being totally taken in by a con artist, that’s what. Welcome to the club.”

Her eyes flashed. “Don’t patronize me. You can take your club and stuff it.”

Surprisingly Gordon laughed and in spite of herself, Mackie did, too.

He put his hands on her arms. “How about a compromise?”

She eyed him suspiciously, stepping back. “What kind of compromise?”

“If I leave, you’re going to have the same situation as last night—Ashley in a strange place with a strange person. Most likely being pretty vocal about not liking the situation. Since Beth won’t be here for hours, come home with me so I can shower and shave and Ashley can have some time in familiar surroundings. Then we’ll get back over here by midafternoon. Deal?” He stuck out his hand for a shake.

Mackie thought for a moment, then accepted his offer. His touch was warm, his long fingers wrapping around her own. This was not at all like a business handshake, more of a caress. Uncomfortable, she pulled free, then excused herself. “OK, Mr. Galloway, I’ll be ready to leave in a half hour.”

“Do you think you could call me Gordon? This Mr. stuff is getting pretty tiresome.”

“All right then...Gordon.”

The neighborhood was beautiful with its wide curvy streets and stately old homes. The St. Augustine grass favored in Dallas now lay in a dormant strawlike phase, but the live oaks were vigorously holding on to their rich greens and the hearty pansies added a flash of color to the oversize lawns.

Gordon’s house was a two-story of brick and Austin stone showcased nicely by landscaped grounds and imposing trees. It was charming, warm and inviting.

They parked at the curb and Mackie followed Gordon and Ashley up a brick path to the front door. Still balancing Ashley in his arms, Gordon unlocked the door and motioned Mackie inside.

A tortoiseshell cat came padding down the staircase to check out the group. As Mackie shed her jacket and purse and deposited them on a coat tree, the cat circled her ankles. “And who is this?” Mackie reached down to stroke the animal who responded with a loud purr.

“Cleo. She likes you already because you’re older than fifteen months and haven’t tried to pick her up by the tail. Poor thing is accustomed to being chased, teased and manhandled as only a toddler can do. Half my waking hours are spent protecting her from Ash’s clutches.”

He escorted Mackie into a large family room, with French doors leading to a patio and pool area. Depositing his daughter on the sofa, he took off her coat and bonnet. “Will you watch Ash while I clean myself up?”

“Sure.” Mackie cast a wary glance at the toddler as Gordon left the room. “Go easy on me,” she implored the child who had eased off her perch and was busily ripping pages from a magazine.

He stuck his head back in. “Put on a Barney video and she’ll be putty in your hands.”