Unexpected Family. Jill Kemerer

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      He should be driving home, lacing up his shoes and hitting the pavement. Should be acting as if what happened today didn’t matter. But a feeling of caving in, of losing—what, he didn’t know—coursed through his body.

      His phone dinged. I’ll be there in five minutes.

      Five minutes. Too long. The taste in his mouth turned to copper.

      Maybe he hadn’t caved in. And he certainly hadn’t lost anything. He’d let Stephanie have her plan because...

      He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t ready to be a dad.

      “There you are.” Claire sailed through the gate and gave him a hug. “How did it go? Did she love the bunny?”

      “I’m not sure.” He led Claire to a bench. Seeing her in the khaki pants and polo shirt with her name embroidered on it always filled him with pride. His sister had wanted to work for the zoo since she was a little kid. Her dream finally came true this year. Some people’s dreams did anyway. “I didn’t see her.”

      “What?” Claire’s stricken face matched her tone. “Why?”

      “Stephanie thinks we should ease Macy into this.”

      “Oh, like you get to know her before telling her you’re her dad?”

      He nodded. Claire made it sound reasonable.

      “Makes sense to me,” she added. “Does it bother you so much?”

      “Not that. She wants to be there, too.”

      “Who? Stephanie?” The corners of her lip curled down and she shrugged. “Might be smart.”

      “You think so?” He clung to the thought.

      “Yeah.” She brushed a piece of straw off her pants. “Think about it. If you’re a four-year-old girl, would you want to spend time with some strange man if your mom isn’t around? You’d likely terrify her, no offense.”

      “None taken.” He hadn’t pursued that angle before. His apprehension lightened. “But it’s hard.”

      “I know. It is hard. Spending time with your ex-wife is hard.”

      “I worry— Never mind.” Spending time with Stephanie was difficult because she reminded him of the dreams he’d tucked away. Before they got married, he’d had a plan. Make the dealership a success, buy a house, start a family. Except he’d failed. He jerked his head to the side. The sun warmed his face. He didn’t dare say what he was thinking out loud.

      Claire touched his arm. “Are you worried about her hurting you again?”

      How did Claire always cut to the heart of it?

      He nodded.

      “Tommy, Aunt Sally once asked me if I believed I’m always divinely guided, and I told her yes. Do you know what she said to me after?”

      He shook his head.

      “She told me I would always take the right turn in the road. I believe that. Now you’ll have to ask yourself the same question.”

      The clouds feathered across the sky as he pondered what she said. Divinely guided, yes. But did he always take the right turn in the road? No. He’d made too many wrong turns to believe it.

      “I was kind of glad Stephanie suggested taking it slow. I’m not ready to be alone with my own kid. I have no idea what little girls like to do, what they need, what they eat. I’m clueless, Claire.” Plus, he was drawn to Stephanie, not that he’d ever admit it. Would he get lost in another thankless relationship with her? Where he’d end up the loser again?

      She laughed. “You’re going to be great. Macy will love you. Just take lots of notes on how Stephanie handles things. And when you’re in doubt, ask Macy what she likes.”

      He didn’t voice the other concern spinning around his head. What if he spent time with them and realized he was a terrible dad? That Macy was better off without him in her life?

      “Something else is on your mind,” Claire said. “I can see it.”

      She knew him well, but he wasn’t ready to confide in her. “I finally got the guts to sign up for something I’d been thinking about for years, and this situation could end it.”

      “You’re not going to quit training. This race is too important to you, so don’t even go there. We’ll keep you on track. And I get you’d be nervous about...this situation—about Stephanie. You don’t have to explain. You sprinted through the whole relationship, and she’s, what, five years younger than you? You two weren’t ready for marriage, and it’s not as if you’re dating again—you’re spending time together so you can be the dad you were meant to be.”

      The words sprinkled over him, shedding a layer of guilt he’d thought he’d eliminated. “Thanks, Claire.” Hanging out with Stephanie and Macy would give him the skills he needed to be a good father. He’d have to keep reminding himself.

      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.

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