Читать книгу: «Instant Daddy», страница 3

Chapter Four

The rain had stopped by the time Peter peered uneasily up the gravel drive to the small Cape Cod where Jessie’s dad waited. Fumbling to unhook his seatbelt, he turned to watch Jessie make a game of unfastening Jake from his car seat, her movements gentle and caring. In spite of her distrust of Peter, there was such a warmth about her, especially when she interacted with Jake.

Could he ever be the kind of parent who showed his son he cared with every move? Given his lack of a role model, he didn’t know where to begin. He didn’t even know if he had it in him to love his son.

Jessie’s questions about his family, or lack of one, were legitimate concerns. If Scott and Karen hadn’t taken him under their protective wings in college, he’d have no one. With his lack in the relationship department, how would he be able to relate to a little boy?

Then there was his research, a demanding taskmaster that took everything he had to give. He lived it, breathed it. He’d focused on ALS research as a result of Scott’s diagnosis. And as Scott’s condition worsened, too many nights Peter slept on the cot in his office rather than making the drive downtown to his dingy, furnished apartment. Even when he had to be away from the lab, he was thinking, planning, solving problems related to his research.

Fine by him. Without his dedication, the experimental drug wouldn’t be ready for testing. The drug that could be Scott’s last chance.

Drugstore bag in hand, he climbed out of the van.

Jessie lifted Jake out of his seat and pushed the door shut. “You ready to meet my dad, Dr. Sheridan?”

“Sure.” A lie. He doubted her father would take too kindly to the man who got his daughter pregnant and hadn’t taken responsibility for her or the baby. Never mind that she hadn’t bothered to tell him. Maybe Peter could hold his own with that fact. “Please call me Peter.”

“Peter,” she repeated, as if trying it out.

He liked the way his name sounded coming from her lips. “What’s your father like?”

“He’s a straight shooter. Protective. A great dad. And he loves Jake.”

Peter heard love and pride in her voice, along with challenge. “Glad you’re not in my shoes?”

She shot him a look that might pass for sympathetic.

Oh well. If talking to her father was the price to pay for a couple cheek swabs, bring him on. With fresh rain making the earth smell new again, Peter followed Jessie up the driveway into a backyard exuberant with flowering bushes and plants. A child’s swing set filled the corner under a tree. The whine of a small motor came from a covered patio running the length of the house and outfitted as an outdoor living area. A muscular, weathered man sat at a workbench, using an electric sander on a long board. Had to be Jessie’s father. “Your dad looks busy.”

“He builds custom furniture in his free time. He has a shop in the garage.”

“Papa!” Jake squealed.

Mr. Chandler switched off the sander and rose to Peter’s height. “Hey, Jake. How you doing, little buddy?”

Jessie walked over to her dad.

Mr. Chandler bent and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Your mother called. Said you were on your way.”

The understanding passing between father and daughter hit Peter like a blow. So much said with just a look. The same understanding Jessie and her mother had shared. Communication real families enjoyed. He couldn’t imagine communicating with his son like that.

Mr. Chandler reached across his workbench to give Peter’s hand a firm shake. “Dr. Sheridan.”

“Peter.”

“Max.”

“I want you to know how sorry I am about Clarissa’s death.”

“Thank you.” The older man shifted his gaze to the ground as if checking his emotions. Then he raised his eyes, held out his arms and Jake lunged from Jessie’s arms to his. “How’s my little buddy?”

Jake gave his grandpa an enthusiastic hug.

Peter found himself smiling at the comradery between the two. It was hard not to smile at just about everything about the little guy.

“Come on, Jake.” Jessie held up the tinfoil package her mother had sent with her. “Help me put supper in the oven to stay warm, okay?”

“’Kay!” Jake yelled as if Jessie had given him a very important assignment.

Max let him slide to the ground.

Jessie grasped the boy’s hand.

With a purposeful strut, Jake headed for the house with Jessie gliding beside him.

She was probably leaving so her father wouldn’t have to pull punches. “You will make that phone call?” Peter reminded.

“I will,” she called over her shoulder.

Peter dragged his gaze back to the man on the other side of the work bench.

Her father’s eyes bore into Peter’s until the screen door slammed behind Jessie and Jake. “My wife and I are very proud of both our daughters. But for reasons I’ll never understand, Clarissa felt her research was more important than being a mother. What I want to know is why she found it necessary to keep her baby a secret from you.”

Off and running. “I don’t know the answer to that question.”

Max studied Peter, sadness filling his lined face.

It must be hard to lose a child.

“I could use something cool.” Max strode to the back wall. He pulled a couple cans from an under-counter refrigerator, strode back to Peter and handed him a can of Dr Pepper.

“Thanks.” Peter popped the lid, the hiss of carbonated air filling the silence between them.

Max raised his soda. “To reasonable men.”

Peter could hope. But the steel glint in Max’s eyes warned him to stay on his toes. He raised his can in a toast, then took a sizable swallow, the liquid cold and refreshing.

Max drank thirstily before he lowered his can and focused a narrow gaze on Peter. “Clarissa and I had our differences of opinion, but she knew what she was doing when she gave Jake to Jessie. Jessie’s the best thing that could have happened to that boy.”

Peter had no argument with that. Just thinking about the love on her face when she looked at Jake made him smile. “She’s wonderful with him.”

“Think about it, Peter. If Clarissa had been a different person, she might have given him to some agency for adoption. You would never have known you had a son. And little Jake would have been lost to all of us.”

Peter could only stare at the man as he absorbed his words. Rather than blaming Clarissa for leaving him out of the loop, maybe he should be thankful for the things she’d done right. He could only imagine how difficult the situation had been for her.

But Max wasn’t finished. “The way I see it…the measure of a man is in how he takes care of his family. If you’re the man I hope you are, you’ll do what’s best for Jake. If you don’t, you don’t deserve to be his father.”

Somehow Max had managed to challenge Peter’s integrity, prod him to live up to it and shame him if he fell short. The man was good. “Of course, I want what’s best for Jake.”

Max took a drink of his soda. “What’s best for Jake is Jessie.”

As if summoned, she walked out of the house, Jake in her arms. “Jake left his musical car out here.”

She was just as pretty in jeans and a green T-shirt as she’d been in her sundress, Peter noted.

“Want a Dr Pepper, Jess?” Her father looked at her expectantly.

She shook her head.

“Did you talk to your lawyer?”

“Yes. He said I’ll have to give you DNA samples eventually anyway, and I’d just as soon do it now.”

“Great. Then let’s get started.” Peter swept the kits out of the drugstore bag he carried.

Max gave him a level gaze. “There’s more to being a father than DNA, Peter.”

“Of course there is.”

“Like feelings, love, commitment. How do you feel about being a father?” Max asked.

Peter laid the kits on the nearby table. “Jake’s great.”

“Yes, he is. But that’s not my question.”

He should have known Jessie’s dad wouldn’t accept a superficial answer. Buying time, he laid out vials, small packages of swabs and labels while he sorted through thoughts he’d been struggling with about what to do regarding his son.

Bottom line? No way could he let Jake grow up without a father, like Peter had. “Jake needs to know his father. I can’t let him grow up thinking he doesn’t matter to me.”

“Fair enough. But think long and hard about how best to accomplish that. As long as you remember what’s best for him, we’ll get along just fine.”

In other words, as long as he remembered Jessie was best for Jake, everything would go smoothly. A not-too-veiled threat if Peter ever heard one. But he admired Jessie’s father for laying it on the line.

Max looked at Peter, obviously waiting for him to be just as straightforward about what he wanted.

Peter’s thoughts began to gain clarity. He wanted more than just to know his son and his son to know him. He wanted the kind of relationship with Jake that Jessie and her dad had.

And if that was what he wanted, he needed to step up to the plate. “Jessie’s fortunate to have you, Max. You’re here when she needs you, and you’re not afraid to go to bat for her. I don’t want to be anything less for my son.”

“What?” Jessie’s eyes went wide. “You want to be a father like my dad? But you have to get back to your lab, remember?”

She was right. He’d been in a hurry to get the DNA swabs so he could get on the road. Slight change of plans. If he was going to be a real father, he needed to get to know his son a little better. “I’ve decided to stay in town the rest of the weekend.”

Unfortunately, the shock on Jessie’s face wasn’t the least bit encouraging.

In the steamy little bathroom, Jake’s shampoo mingled with the subtle spice of Peter Sheridan’s aftershave.

“Make bubbos,” Jake squealed, slapping the water in the tub with both hands.

Jessie rocked back on her haunches to duck a spray of soapy water, a jab in her hip making her wince.

On his knees beside her, Peter took the splash at full force. Laughing, he swiped his hand over his wet face, his arm bumping Jessie’s.

He turned to her, his laughing brown eyes concerned. “Sorry. You okay?”

She nodded vigorously, his presence seeming to fill the room.

His gaze softened. “I tend to throw myself into things, I’m afraid.”

She squinted. Too warm, she scooched over to allow him more space.

“Pedo. Chug.”

With an apologetic little smile, Peter turned to Jake and went back to making chugging noises and pushing a plastic tugboat in circles while Jake laughed and clapped and wildly slapped the water.

Grateful that Peter’s focus was back on Jake, Jessie gave her head a little shake. What was her problem? Did she need to remind herself of Peter’s declaration in the backyard this afternoon? He seemed to think he could pull Dad’s qualities out of thin air. Ha.

She had to make him see reality. That’s why she’d invited him to help with Jake’s bath and bedtime ritual—to give him a glimpse of real-life, behind-the-scenes parenting. If he understood being a parent was time-consuming, sometimes heart-wrenching and a lot of hard work, he’d have to understand he lacked the time and the skills to care for Jake.

At first, Peter sat back and watched her play quietly with her son to calm him down before bed. But it hadn’t taken him long to roll up his sleeves and take charge. Now, the front of his white dress shirt was soaked, and his black suit pants weren’t faring much better. But he seemed oblivious to everything except Jake and how much fun they were having.

But right before bed? Not a good idea. The more tired Jake got, the more wound up he became, and the harder it would be to get him to settle down for the night.

Of course, it would give Peter a good dose of one of the challenges of parenting. He needed to get a complete picture. And as much as she didn’t want Jake having a hard time settling down, maybe it would be worth it if Peter could see he wasn’t up to the job. Struggling to her feet, she grabbed a dry towel and glanced pointedly at her watch. “Jake’s bedtime has come and gone.”

“Hear that, Jake? Time for bed.”

Jake splashed, water flying. “Pedo chug.”

Diversion worked better than going the direct route, but Peter would find that out soon enough. She gave him the towel.

“Thanks. Come on Jake, let’s get you dried off.”

Jake stuck out his bottom lip in his mutiny pose.

Peter looked up at her, amusement crinkling his rich brown eyes. To his credit, he didn’t laugh even if Jake’s pout was the cutest thing in the entire world.

Jake slapped the water, sending it flying everywhere again. “Chug, Pedo.”

Peter turned back to Jake, a broad grin on his lips, as if that would help. He held the towel at the ready like he expected Jake to walk right into it. “See? Jessie gave me a big, fluffy towel to dry you off.”

Jake pointed to Jessie. “Mama.”

She smiled.

“Mama,” Peter conceded.

“Chug, Pedo.” Jake grasped the tugboat and jammed it at Peter.

Peter shook his head. “No more chugging. The tugboat’s tired. It needs to go to bed.”

Nice try.

But Jake was beyond listening. He flipped onto his tummy in the water, pushing the tugboat and making his motor sound.

Peter turned to Jessie. “Feel free to step in any time.”

“But you’re doing so well.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Of course not,” she fibbed.

“Any suggestions?”

“Well…” Maybe she should give him a crumb. “You could offer him his bedtime snack.”

He gave an aha nod and turned to Jake. “How about a snack, Jake?”

Jake kept pushing the boat and making the chugging noise, totally absorbed in his imaginary world.

“Hey, Jake. What do you like for your snack?” Peter tried again. When Jake ignored him again, Peter turned back to Jessie. “Now what?”

“He’s zoned. You’ll have to pick him up and take him out.”

“Will he cry?” he asked softly, probably so Jake wouldn’t hear.

“Count on it.”

“He’s used to you. Maybe you should do it.”

She gave him a lifted eyebrow. “He’ll cry for me, too. Just make it clean and fast.”

Peter put the towel down. Broad shoulders hunched, he leaned over the tub, poised to snatch the boy and lift him out of the water in his large, masculine hands. Strong and gentle, nails clean and neatly cut.

Neil’s hands had been strong and gentle, too. Sometimes, they’d been cracked and stained from hard farm work even though he used the special soaps she’d given him. Her heart twisted at the memory of her ex-fiancé. “Okay. Go ahead,” she encouraged.

Peter made his move.

With a shriek, Jake’s chubby legs flailed, his slippery body squirming and twisting to get free.

“Whoa, there,” Peter grunted, no doubt surprised by the power one little boy could unleash. He tried to set Jake on his feet on the towel, but churning legs and a squirming body made that impossible. So Peter hugged Jake close instead. “It’s okay, Jake. We’re going to get you dry and dressed so you can have that snack.”

At least his instincts were good. But it was hard to tell whether Jake heard him. He wailed loud enough to alert Jessie’s parents on the patio. She wouldn’t be surprised if Mom popped in to find out what was going on. “Calm down, sweetie,” she cooed as she tucked the towel around Jake.

“He’s never going to forgive me for doing that,” Peter said dismally.

Jessie could almost feel sorry for the man…if she wasn’t worried what he would decide to do when he fell in love with Jake. If he hadn’t already.

Finally, Jake’s crying subsided. “Wan Os,” he said on a hiccough.

Peter looked over Jake’s head at her as if asking her to interpret.

“He wants Cheerios for his snack.” She nodded to let him know Os were an option.

“Sure, Jake. Os sound good,” Peter said.

“Wan Os, wan Os.” Jake sniffed, twisting to get out of Peter’s arms.

“Slow down,” Jessie warned. “You can have Os just as soon as Peter gets you into your diaper and pajamas.”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up. “You sure I’m up to that?”

“Aren’t you?”

He squinted. “How hard can it be?”

Looked like he wasn’t ready to cry uncle anytime soon. She laid a diaper and pj’s on the changing table in the corner of the small room and stepped out of the way.

Peter climbed to his feet, abandoned the towel and laid Jake on the changing table without a hitch. He picked up the diaper, turning it in his hands as he studied it.

Not one to stay still for long, Jake began rolling onto his side.

Jessie lunged toward him.

“Whoa, there, fella.” Peter grabbed Jake to stop him from falling.

Jessie gave a sigh of relief.

“You need to lie down, so I can get this diaper on you,” Peter explained as if he expected the eighteen month old’s complete cooperation.

“Wan Os.” Jake swayed his head and upper torso back and forth to make his point.

“After we get you dressed,” Peter said.

Jake wailed, struggling to free himself.

Jessie grabbed the towels on the floor and began wiping up the water near the tub. If Peter wanted her help, he could ask for it. But she kept a keen eye on his progress.

He held a squirming Jake with one hand while he spread the diaper on the changing table with the other. Then he plunked Jake on the diaper and somehow got it between the little boy’s legs, but he couldn’t seem to figure out how to fasten it. At least, not before Jake kicked free of the diaper and sent it flying.

Things couldn’t be working out better. Suppressing a grin, Jessie flipped the drain and scooped toys into the net bag attached to the wall. “Are you going to get that diaper on him or not?”

Peter raked his free hand through his hair. “A demonstration might expedite things.”

“Are you asking for my help?”

“Please?” He gave her a pathetic look. Well, as pathetic as a strong, handsome, intelligent man can look, anyway.

With an exaggerated sigh, she ambled over to contain Jake while Peter retrieved the diaper from the floor and laid it on the changing table.

Jessie gave Jake a toy car to keep him occupied, lifted him onto the diaper and secured it.

“You sure make it look easy,” Peter commented.

“Experience. Can you handle putting him in his pajamas?”

Peter picked up the train-printed pj’s and looked them over. “Snaps go back or front?”

“Front.” She took the garment and matched top to bottom to show him.

“Got it.”

She wiped down the tub-surround, glancing back to see how things were going.

Shoulders flexing, Peter worked to get the small, struggling boy into his pajamas, then concentrated on matching snaps. “We’re almost finished, Jake,” he promised several times.

Jessie perched on the side of the tub to wait. He must be realizing he wasn’t cut out for parenting by now. One would think, anyway.

Finally, he lifted Jake in the air as he checked his work. “Mission accomplished,” he announced. He did look like he’d been on a mission—a very wet one. His dark hair was soaked and as mussed as short hair can get, and his soaked shirt clung to his chest.

Jessie noticed one lone, unmatched snap on Jake’s pajamas and considered not mentioning it. But only for a second. “You missed a snap.”

“Are you sure?” He gave her an exasperated look as he folded Jake in his arms.

“Of course I’m sure.” She reached for Jake before his dry pajamas were as sodden as Peter was.

Jake hurled himself into her arms. “Wan Os, Mama.”

“Okay.” She concentrated on righting the snap and tried not to feel sorry for Peter in his wet shirt, but she did anyway. “If you want me to throw your shirt in the washer, you can wear one of Dad’s.”

He looked down at his soggy shirt. “That would be great. But I doubt your father wants me wearing his clothes.”

“He won’t mind.” She opened the bathroom closet her mom had converted from linen storage to hold her dad’s clothes. “Take your pick.”

Giving her a wary eye, he chose a worn denim one she hadn’t seen Dad wear for years. “This looks comfortable. It isn’t his favorite, is it?”

Jessie shook her head.

Peter hung the hanger on the shower curtain rod and unbuttoned his shirt. He glanced at Jessie.

She realized she was watching as if a good-looking man taking off his shirt in her bathroom was an everyday occurrence. And not just any man…but the man who’d made a baby with her sister? “I’ll just…uh…” She motioned toward the door.

He raised an eyebrow.

Flustered, she set Jake on his feet on the floor and darted out of the room after him. Well, wasn’t that just lovely? Now Peter would probably think she was attracted to him.

Well, what woman wouldn’t be? After all, he was a very attractive man, wasn’t he?

By the time she got to the kitchen, Jake was pushing a chair to the cupboard. “I’ll get your Os for you.” She took the box from the cupboard and grabbed a small bowl from another shelf.

Peter strode into the room, powerful and in charge but looking a tad more relaxed in Dad’s old shirt. His own wet shirt in his hand, he stopped by the table and studied the wall of family pictures. “Looks like you were a busy girl in school. Plays, proms, cheerleader.”

She looked up from pouring cereal. “You know which pictures are me and which are Clarissa?”

“Sure.” He turned to her. “You’re very different from your sister, you know.”

“She’s the brainy one. No surprise there.”

“You’re brainy enough.” Peter laid his shirt on the table to help Jake scramble into his high chair. He attempted to attach the tray without success. “You don’t seem as driven as Clarissa. You’re gentle. And there’s more compassion in your eyes.”

Strangely touched by his comment, she leaned in, clicked the tray in place and set the dish of cereal on it.

“People love you,” he said.

She didn’t know how to respond. “Why do you think that? You don’t even know me.”

“I’ve watched you with people. They love you.”

“A problem when you can’t live up to it.”

He chuckled. “You have nothing to worry about, then.”

She frowned. Did he take her comment as her attempt at humor? Or arrogance? If only. But how refreshing. He didn’t know or care about her past or how far she’d fallen from the self-sufficient, independent woman she’d been before the accident. And he had no clue how much she had to depend on her parents and relatives to help her make her life run.

But his comments gave her the courage to ask a few personal questions of her own. “You said you and Clarissa were never a couple. That you don’t have time for relationships. But obviously, you cared about each other…”

“Your sister and I had an excellent working relationship. We respected each other’s integrity a great deal. We understood each other’s drive and dedication to our work.”

Jake held an O out to Peter.

“For me?” Peter bent and opened his mouth to let Jake drop the cereal inside.

Jake watched with rapt attention. “Mmm?”

“Mmm,” Peter repeated.

A mixture of emotions churning inside her, Jessie waited for Peter to continue his explanation of his and Clarissa’s relationship. But he didn’t. Instead, she watched him and Jake take turns sharing Jake’s snack. Finally, she decided to push the issue. Somehow, she needed to know. “Did you love her?”

Peter looked at Jessie, his smile disappearing. “It wasn’t like that, Jessie.”

She frowned. Clarissa had never given her the idea that she’d loved Jake’s father, either. “How was it, then, Peter?”

He blew out a breath, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. “I guess you deserve some explanation. Clarissa and I were working together on an important experiment. When it failed, we were devastated. We took comfort in each other that night. That’s it. It was a mistake. It only happened once. Neither of us pursued anything further. Two months later, she transferred to the New York lab to further her career.

“I wished her well. I never suspected for a moment she was leaving to hide her pregnancy from me. I heard she took family leave a few months later to help her sister—you—recover from a car accident.”

“Yes.” She couldn’t explain why she was relieved to hear their relationship had been mostly professional.

Jake held his arms up to Peter. “Hole me, ’kay?”

“I sure will.” Peter beamed at Jake as if the heavens had opened up and showered him with manna. He fiddled to unsnap the tray, tugging it impatiently.

Jessie let him figure out the high chair on his own this time.

The tray unsnapped and came off in Peter’s hands. Surprised, he looked it over.

Jake lunged out of his chair.

Jessie lurched to catch him, but she was too far away to reach him in time.

He hit the linoleum floor with a thud.

“Jake.” Peter fell to his knees beside Jake.

“Mama,” Jake wailed as soon as he caught his breath. “Need ice. Need ice.”

Heart pounding, Jessie dropped beside him, scanning his head for bruises. “Will you get the ice pack from the freezer, Peter?”

“Right away.” Pale and miserable, he climbed to his feet, strode to the fridge and yanked open the door.

She’d never get used to Jake getting hurt, even if she had learned to stay calm so she could help him. Noticing a spot on his forehead turning pink, she gathered him close. “The ice pack is in the door rack. Grab the dish towel on the oven door to wrap it in.”

He was back in a flash and handed her the towel-wrapped ice with shaking hands.

She held it to Jake’s head.

Jake reached to help her hold the pack. “Pedo hurt Jake,” he accused.

Peter shut his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“Peter didn’t hurt you, honey,” Jessie explained. “He didn’t know you were going to jump.”

Peter shook his head as if he couldn’t believe his incompetence. “I shouldn’t have taken my eyes off him.”

Jessie’s heart ached for Peter. “I should have warned you he likes to jump.”

What had she been thinking? She’d been selfish and smug trying to show Peter he couldn’t be a parent. He was a parent. A parent who wanted to know his son and his son to know him. Didn’t every child deserve to know his daddy?

She’d die before she’d give Jake up. But that didn’t mean she had to be selfish. If she held on too tight, she might lose Jake completely.

“He could have gotten seriously hurt,” Peter said miserably.

She saw defeat in his eyes, defeat she’d wanted.

She felt terrible. Peter didn’t deserve this. She’d been wrong.

Instead of being critical and acting superior, shouldn’t she be helping Peter learn Jake’s habits? Because no matter what, she had to do everything in her power to keep her little boy safe. “How many skills do you think I had when I brought him home from the hospital? But I learned.”

“I’m sure Jake didn’t get hurt while you were learning.”

“He won’t get hurt, Peter. Not if I teach you. You did say you’re a quick study.”