The Other Twin. Nan Dixon

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      “Come on.” Abby waved to Josh and Cheryl. “You’re part of this, too.”

      “Really?” Josh ran over. As he rushed by, he stubbed his toe and went flying.

      Nathan lunged and caught the kid before he face-planted in the cement. “Hang on there.”

      “Nice catch, Nathan,” Jed called.

      Josh squirmed in his arms like an eel. “Let me go.”

      Nathan moved away from the concrete and set Josh on his feet. “You can’t run in a construction site.”

      “Miss Abby needed me.” There was a stubborn set to the kid’s chin.

      “No running. We talked about that two minutes ago.” Cheryl took Josh’s hand, smiling at Nathan.

      That was a first. Usually she looked scared.

      “No harm done.” He handed out carpenter pencils. “Here.”

      “Thanks.” The kid started to run.

      Cheryl called, “Slow down.”

      Josh huffed out a sigh. “I want to draw a picture.”

      “Only if you follow the rules.” Cheryl and the kid knelt, blond heads together.

      “I wish Zach had slept over last night instead of Sunday.” Josh grinned up at his mother. “This is cool.”

      The sisters knelt on the second drop cloth he’d laid down. Their fiery red Fitzgerald hair gleamed in the harsh work lights.

      This was a bigger production than he’d expected. The sisters debated wording, Josh had his tongue tucked in between his teeth as he drew and Cheryl watched.

      Might as well get a cookie. Snickerdoodle. Snicker-doodle. Laughing drawing? He’d never remember.

      The crew hovered next to the treat table.

      “Hope you left me some crumbs,” Nathan joked.

      “These are good,” Jed said. “But I wouldn’t let these savages eat them all.”

      Jasper, one of the crew members, elbowed Jed in the ribs. “I told you to leave some for Nathan.”

      Nathan grabbed the last two cookies and took a bite. As good as he remembered.

      “Nathan?” A woman’s voice called from behind him.

      He turned, searching for the source.

      “Nathan Forester!” A blonde wearing a tight T-shirt waved from the doorway.

      He knew her. But the name wouldn’t surface. Was she a high school friend? Acquaintance? From some bar?

      “Hey,” he said.

      The crew watched with undisguised interest.

      He moved to cut the woman off before she entered the work site. “How are you?” Who are you?

      Her lips formed a straight line. “I’m Heather.”

      “Sorry.” Heather. Right. He shook his head. Wait. They’d dated years ago, when he’d first moved to Atlanta. “How did you find me?”

      “I heard you were working for your family. Some lady told me what job site you were at.” This wasn’t the pretty blonde he remembered. Her skin was ashen, her hair lank. She’d loved to party—hard. So had he. It looked like partying had taken its toll.

      When they’d been together, her long nails had been her pride and joy. She’d jabbed them into his skin more times than he cared to remember. Now her fingernails were chewed to the quick.

      He took Heather’s arm and moved out to the courtyard.

      “How long has it been? Three years? Four?” he asked. And why was she here?

      “Closer to five.” She shifted on her feet.

      “What are you doing here?” he asked.

      “Looking for you.”

      He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

      She paced the path, the action jerky—nervous. “I’m sorry. Sorry.”

      He sniffed. She didn’t smell like she’d been drinking, but he’d always suspected she might have done drugs. “Sorry?”

      “I never told you.” She bit her thumb, her gaze darting around. “I didn’t know when I moved and then—” She shook her head.

      He rubbed his neck. He needed to get back to work. “What are you—?”

      “You’re a father,” she interrupted.

      “What?” The word whispered out. His heart stopped. Then started pounding.

      “You’re a daddy.”

      His knees gave out. He collapsed on a nearby bench. Daddy? He could barely remember being with her. “We used protection. Always.”

      “There was that one night.” Tears streaked her cheeks.

      Crap. “The condom broke,” he whispered.

      “Yeah.” She hiccupped. “Surprise.”

      “This isn’t funny,” he snapped. “No way am I a father.”

      “You are.” She wiped her face with her hand. “I should have told you, but I’d moved. By the time I knew, I was living with Thad.”

      “What do you want? Money?” He pushed off the bench and shifted away.

      She laughed, a watery, snotty sound. “No.”

      He let his head sink to his chest. “What?”

      “I...I have to get away. I mean go away.” She scanned the courtyard. Again. “Um...to treatment.”

      He pushed his hand through his hair.

      She clutched his hand. “You have to take Bella.”

      “Are you crazy?” A kid? This had to be a nightmare. Wake up.

      “There’s no one else. You have to.” She squeezed his fingers. “I’ve had her for four years. It’s your turn now.”

      He shook her hand away. “I don’t do kids.”

      Heather’s eyes narrowed. “Until she came along, neither did I.”

      “Why can’t—” words and names jumbled in his head “—whoever the guy you’re living with take care of...her?”

      “Her СКАЧАТЬ