Instant Daddy (6 page)

Peter glanced around as customers closed ranks, preventing him from reaching the counter. “I’m not here to eat,” he tried to explain to the scowling crowd.

“Then you’re in the wrong place,” the big man supplied helpfully.

Peter turned to Lisa, who glanced away. Didn’t look as if he’d get much help there, which made him wish he hadn’t been so pushy with her yesterday when he’d demanded to see Jake. He glanced at the bright, butterfly-patterned curtain that, no doubt, hid his son from him. He’d need a tank to cut through the wall-to-wall customers between him and the curtain.

It didn’t look like he had a lot of choices. He could either start a riot or wait his turn and talk to Jessie at the counter. He settled in for the duration. How long could it take?

Unfortunately, twenty minutes later, the bell over the door still tinkled nonstop, chatter bounced off the old tin ceiling tiles like Ping-Pong balls and Peter still waited in line. The only change was that the delicious smells rising from the grill made his stomach growl with hunger. Maybe he’d have breakfast after all.

Behind the counter, Jessie looked pretty and cheerful in a denim skirt and pink T-shirt with a matching kerchief tying back her hair. She moved as fluidly as a well-trained dancer going through her paces, her limp barely noticeable. She interacted with many of her customers as if they were longtime friends. They probably were.

The tall, unfriendly guy Peter met coming out of Jessie’s back room yesterday eyed him from his seat at the counter. Whatever the guy’s relationship with her was, the way he looked at her told Peter he wanted it to be more. But Jessie’s demeanor said “just friends.” Funny how much that insight pleased Peter.

Finally, a woman vacated her red vinyl stool.

Being next in line, Peter claimed it, catching Jessie’s eye as he sat down.

A frown chasing away her smile, she cleared away the dishes in front of him.

“Good morning,” he said, noting the wariness in her blue eyes. She wasn’t wearing even the touch of makeup she’d worn yesterday. He had the fleeting urge to reach out and touch her smooth, inviting skin. What would she do if he did?

“Coffee?”

“Black, thanks.”

She grasped the coffee pot and filled his cup, her hand shaking enough to slosh a little on the counter.

He hated that he made her nervous. “Thank you. Rough morning?”

“You could say that.” Without meeting his eyes, she whipped a menu from its holder, handed it to him, then moved on to the next customer to fill his cup.

Not exactly friendly. He hoped that didn’t mean she’d changed her mind about teaching him how to handle Jake. Sipping great coffee, Peter studied the menu, his gaze wandering to Jessie turning eggs and sausage on the grill, scooping orders onto plates and delivering them to customers. Compassion, efficiency and a great cook wrapped in a very pretty package. He couldn’t help wondering why she was still single.

Finally, she stopped in front of him. “Have you decided what you’d like?”

“Is Jake in the back?”

“Yes. He’s napping.” Her eyes looked pinched as if she could use a nap, too.

“Can I have some more coffee down here, Jess?” a deep voice boomed.

Jessie jumped as if she’d been caught playing hooky, grabbed the coffee pot and hurried to take care of the demanding customer.

Sipping his coffee, Peter watched her tend the grill, serve customers, hand out checks and clear away dishes from the counter without missing a beat. She headed his way with the coffeepot in hand.

She filled his cup. “Do you know what you’d like?”

“I’ll have number nine on the menu. How long will Jake sleep?”

“Judging by how tired he was, at least a couple hours.” She moved along the counter filling customers’ cups.

Peter sighed. At this rate, it would take him all morning to make plans with Jessie to play with Jake.

“You picked the wrong time to try to talk to her.” The hefty man with thinning hair on Peter’s right took a final bite of toast.

Peter gave the man a look to discourage his interest.

“She’s got her routine down to an art form,” the man said. “And she doesn’t like to be interrupted.”

The look hadn’t worked. Peter felt a little on the cranky side for lack of sleep, and he was only too aware he was wasting valuable time away from his research.

“I’m Jessie’s uncle Harold.”

Great. He’d been rude to her uncle. Peter turned to the man wearing a white shirt and tie and stuck out his hand. “Peter Sheridan.”

Harold wiped his fingers on his napkin before he shook Peter’s hand. “I know who you are. So does most of Noah’s Crossing. Your name was on everybody’s lips at church fellowship this morning.”

What were they doing? Praying for him, too? That couldn’t be good, could it?

“How long are you staying?” Jessie’s uncle asked.

“I need to head home tonight.”

Harold pushed his empty plate away and held Peter’s gaze. “Jessie’s been through some real tough times. We almost lost her in a bad car accident a couple years ago. Then her sister died. Little Jake means the world to her and her folks. I hope you’re not planning to bring more heartache to that family.”

Peter sighed. He should have guessed Jessie’s accident had been life-threatening. It probably explained
her limp, too. And gave added credence to Clarissa’s decision to take personal leave and come home for her baby’s birth. What if she hadn’t? If she’d stayed in New York, maybe she would never have told her family about Jake, either. “I want to be a father to my son, that’s all.”

“Commendable. How you planning to do that from Madison?”

Peter narrowed his eyes. Jessie’s uncle or not, he wanted to ask the man what business any of this was of his.

Jessie set a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast in front of Peter that smelled as good as it looked. “Uncle Harold, can you handle the cash register until Aunt Lou gets here, please?”

Peter glanced to the empty spot where Lisa had stood.

“Where’s Lisa?” Jessie’s uncle asked.

“She’s not feeling well.”

Harold gave a nod. “Morning sickness.”

Busy clearing Harold’s used dishes, Jessie snapped her head around. “Lisa’s pregnant?”

“That’s what Lou says.”

Jessie frowned as if the news was anything but joyful. “But little Denise is only nine months old.”

“Surprises happen, Jess.”

Shaking her head, she hustled away with the dishes.

Peter was surprised by Jessie’s reaction to the news of a baby on the way. The way she was with Jake, she had to love babies.

Jessie wiped the counter in front of her uncle.

“I’ll get right on that register. And Lou should be finishing up leading her Bible study about now,” Harold
said. “She’ll be here soon so you can leave like you planned, Jess.”

“Thank you,” she said.

It sounded like Jessie had already made time for him and Jake to be together. Peter took a bite of tasty bacon.

Harold stood and gave Peter’s shoulder a couple thumps. “Glad to meet you, Peter.”

“Same here,” Peter said absently. He was anxious to talk to Jessie about taking Jake to the park.

Harold walked away as a tall man in work overalls took the stool beside Peter.

Jessie set a glass of orange juice on the counter for Peter and topped off his coffee. “Anything else I can get you?”

Peter didn’t waste any time. “I was thinking we could take Jake to the playground this morning.”

“We can take him for a little while if you want, but I won’t be free until after one.”

“But your uncle just said you could leave soon.”

“Aunt Lou and Mom will take over here so I can go to the late church service.”

“Do you take Jake with you?”

“Sometimes. When he takes a shorter nap than today. But we can meet you at the park on Maple about one-thirty.”

“One-thirty? Church lasts that long?”

“After church, I need to finish things up here. I close the diner at noon on Sundays.”

Peter shut his eyes, trying to rein in his frustration. “I was hoping I could spend time with Jake this morning, then get on the road back to the lab.”

“I’m sorry, Peter. One-thirty is the best I can do.” With that, she hurried away again.

Peter stared at his breakfast, his appetite gone. Sure, Jessie had promised to teach him about Jake, but she controlled the entire situation. And it was pretty obvious she had no idea the limited time he had to spend with his son.

If he was going to be a real part of Jake’s life, he couldn’t just wait around for her to call all the shots. He needed to take control and find a way to make things happen.

S
un warm on her head, Jessie peered through the lens, waiting for the perfect picture. Bringing her camera to the park had been an afterthought. A thought that seemed to lift Peter out of the glum mood he’d left the diner with this morning. He’d seemed surprised she planned to snap a few pictures of him with Jake.

Truth was, sitting in church she’d had a conscience attack of sorts. God had helped her see that Peter hadn’t deliberately set out to ruin her life. He was, after all, only trying to deal with a difficult situation, wasn’t he? How many men would handle it as well as he was? Especially one with his heavy responsibilities?

So maybe she could cut him a break. Maybe try being a little nicer.

She snapped a picture of him pushing Jake in the child’s swing. A memory of Neil pushing his nephew in a swing flitted into Jessie’s mind. Her heart ached for the happy days they’d shared…for the life they’d planned…for the family they’d never have.

Don’t go there, Jessie.

She clicked the lens. “Good one.” The giant man;
the tiny boy. The father and his miniature, lookalike son. Any mother would be hard pressed to find a more touching subject.

Lowering the camera, she watched them interact. They were already bonding, no question about that. A twinge of loss nudged her. Jake had belonged only to her and her family before Peter showed up. Would she have to give him up? Would she learn to share him?

What must it be like to completely share a child? To conceive a baby with the man you loved, to share the baby’s growth in your womb, to experience the birth together? Like her younger cousin Lisa would be doing. Again.
I want to be happy for her, God. I do. But she already has her adorable little Denise. And now she gets to experience the whole miracle all over again.
Throat closing, she concentrated on snapping another picture.

Peter twisted the swing and let Jake spin.

Jake squealed with laughter.

Jessie cringed. A little too rough for her taste, even if her dad did remind her Jake was a sturdy boy every time they roughhoused. She raised the camera and snapped a picture.

Peter lifted the swing above his head, his long, lean body stretching to the sky, his muscular legs planted firmly on the ground.

Jessie took a quick breath, her fingers taking a couple extra seconds to find the button on the camera.

“Want an underduck, Jake?” Peter asked.

“Undaduck!” Jake shouted.

All muscles and action, Peter ran under the swing and let it go.

Jake screeched with laughter, the swing flying far too high.

Jessie clicked the lens. “That’s too high for him, Peter.”

“He loves going high.”

“But if his head jerks back, he could injure his neck.”

Peter frowned.

“Pedo! More undaduck!” Jake swung more slowly now.

Peter glanced at Jessie.

She shook her head. “He doesn’t know what’s safe and what isn’t. That’s our job.”
Our
job? She sounded as if they were a real family. A real family just having everyday fun together. What must that be like?

“Pedo! Undaduck!”

Peter stepped close to Jake and gave him a modified underduck. “Better?”

Jessie nodded, relieved he’d deferred to her with Jake’s safety.

“Pedo!
Big
undaduck!”

Peter chuckled. “Can’t do, fella.
You
have to get bigger for that.”

Jake pulled his pout.

Time for distraction. “You want to go on the slide?” Jessie asked.

“Slide.” Jake drew his legs up and tried to stand in the swing.

Jessie tensed.

Thankfully, Peter grabbed him before he could fall. “You’re a little daredevil.”

“Pedo divil?” Jake patted Peter’s face.

Peter laughed.

Jessie snapped a picture. “Don’t forget, words you teach him will come back to bite you.”

“No doubt.” Peter lifted Jake over his head to straddle his shoulders.

Fully appreciating the view in her lens, she snapped a great picture.

“Is it my imagination or are little kids a breath away from disaster at any given moment?” Peter asked.

Jessie narrowed her eyes. “Do you think I worry too much about him?”

“In a good way.”

She met his smiling eyes, her stomach doing a little flip. He looked so much happier than he had yesterday. “Dad says I’ll make a hothouse flower out of him.”

Jake began bouncing on Peter’s shoulders.

Peter grasped his legs more firmly. “I doubt there’s much danger of Jake becoming a hothouse flower.”

She laughed, glad to hear another male’s opinion on Jake. “I’ll tell my father you said that the next time he teases me.”

Peter ran his gaze over her face. “You have a nice laugh.”

“Thank you.” She inwardly cringed at the breathiness in her voice. Might as well flash a neon sign announcing “Aware and Interested Female Here.” Which wasn’t true. She’d given up that dream when Neil broke off their engagement.

Her dream of a husband and family wasn’t all the accident stole from her. After her broken engagement and Clarissa’s death, everybody looked at her in a whole new way than they had when she was the cheerleader dating the town’s prize athlete, the prom-and home-coming queen, the girl voted most likely to succeed in whatever she did. Now, they saw her as a victim who needed help. She hated it.

Somehow, Peter made her feel like that whole person again. It was nice to be around someone besides Jake who didn’t feel sorry for her. She sighed. But who knew what the man was planning behind those rich brown eyes?

Reaching for a new train of thought, she pointed to the slide. “I’ll take your picture with Jake on the ladder. But the slide’s too high for him to go down alone.”

“I can’t remember the last time I was on one of those things.” Peter headed for the ladder, posed at the top with Jake, then stretched his long legs in front of him and zipped down the slide with Jake in his lap. Peter’s deep laugh resonated along with Jake’s squeals.

Jessie couldn’t help smiling.

“Would you like me to take a picture of you with your lovely little family?” a small, white-haired woman sitting on a nearby park bench offered.

Jessie should correct the woman’s mistake, but instead, she found herself handing her the camera. “That’s very kind.”

Peter carried Jake across the grass.

“Peter, this kind lady has offered to take a picture of us.”

“Okay.” Giving Jessie a lopsided grin, he moved closer to her and focused on the camera.

Jessie smiled, hanging on to the illusion of a real family as if a picture could make it true. She heard the camera click. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome.” The smiling woman returned the camera and strolled away.

“Run.” Jake squirmed to get down.

“He can’t get hurt running on the soft grass, can he?” Peter asked.

“Not unless he trips and falls.”

He raised a dark eyebrow. “Are you kidding?”

“Mostly. He’s very sure-footed. He’s been running on his toes ever since he took his first steps at nine months.”

Peter set him down.

Jake took off, his chubby legs churning across the grass.

Jessie kept her eye on him. “I used to hold my breath every time he hurled himself across the floor. His legs didn’t always keep up with his body.”

“I’m sorry I missed that.”

Her heart clutched. He’d missed so many important things in his son’s life. “I’m sorry, too, Peter.”

He met her eyes. “I appreciate that.”

“Every father deserves to see his child’s firsts. I have tons of pictures of him. I’ll show them to you and make copies of whatever you want.”

“I’d like that very much.” His gaze roamed her face as if he couldn’t quite size her up. “Mind if I use your camera?”

“Be my guest.” She handed the camera to him, his fingers brushing hers.

Warmth zinged through her.

He met her eyes.

Had he felt it, too? She managed to look away.

He took a shot of Jake running. When Jake noticed Peter clicking the camera, he headed straight for it.

“What a little ham.” Laughing, Jessie dropped to her knees to catch him, then swooped him into the air and gave his tummy a buzz.

Jake giggled out of control.

She lowered him to nuzzle noses and heard the camera click.

Jake struggled to break away from her. “Jake run!”

She set him on the ground and watched him run away.

Camera hanging around his neck, Peter walked over to her and hung his hands on his narrow hips, his white shirt pulling across his chest. “He’s a great kid.”

“Yes, he is.” They sounded like any parents talking about their child. Having someone to share Jake’s life with her could be a good thing, couldn’t it? And Peter seemed very different from the anxious man at the lectern yesterday. Or for that matter, the one who’d left the diner in a funk this morning. “I think fatherhood agrees with you.”

“Yeah? Can you see me with a whole houseful of little Jakes? Maybe a few pretty little girls thrown in for good measure?” He laughed.

Heart skidding to a standstill, she drew in a deep breath of reality. “You want a family?”

“In my dreams.” He gave her a self-deprecating little smile. “In the real world, I have yet to figure out how I’m going to fit Jake into my life.”

She knew all about dreams. But she could daydream they’d make a happy little family till the cows came home, and it wouldn’t change a thing. Any man who loved children would want more than one.

He’d want a woman who could give them to him. And Jessie couldn’t.

That evening, Peter followed Jessie and Jake down the narrow hall with more than a little trepidation. Sure, things had gone better than he’d expected this afternoon. And tucking Jake in for the night sounded simple enough, but who knew what pitfalls lay hidden in a small boy’s rituals?

He didn’t want to do anything that might hinder Jake’s budding trust in him. Especially not when he had to head back to Madison tonight and didn’t know when he’d be able to get away to see the little guy again.

Jessie bringing her camera to the park had surprised and pleased him. She’d even come out of her shell and appeared to accept him a little. He’d thought about asking her if she’d consider moving Jake to Madison, but the time hadn’t seemed right. He needed to find out before he left, though. It was the only way he’d know how to proceed.

Walking into the small bedroom, he couldn’t help smiling. Jessie had made sure Jake had everything a little boy could possibly need. A crib, a rocking chair, a book shelf loaded with books, a low train table and two big wooden train cars brimming with toys, undoubtedly Jessie’s dad’s work. A red stripe ran chair-rail height around the room with brightly painted, wood trains hanging on the medium-blue wall above.

Her silky hair veiling her face, Jessie bent and plucked a book from the shelf. “Peter will read your favorite story.”

Peter waited, wondering if the boy would object.

Instead, Jake held out his arms to him.

Feeling like king of the mountain, Peter picked him up. But the small bruise on the little guy’s forehead did a quick job of dashing his ego. Good thing for him that eighteen-month-olds apparently regained trust more easily than adults did.

Jessie handed Peter a little book and indicated he should sit in the rocking chair.

Peter sat down and carefully positioned Jake on his lap.

“Tomut.” Jake pointed at the little blue engine on the cover.

“I see. The book is about your engine.”

“Story.” Jake opened the book, ready to get down to business.

Needing no further direction, Peter began to read.

Jake listened with rapt attention, identifying pictures in his own language.

Smart kid. And Peter could mostly figure out what he was saying by matching his words to pictures in the book.

“End.” Jake slammed the book shut. “More story.”

“No,” Jessie said. “Now Peter will rock you and sing a song.”

A song? Peter shot her a look. “I’m tone deaf.”

“Jake isn’t fussy.”

“Easy for you to say.” He frowned at her. “I don’t know any songs.”

“He loves it when I make one up.”

She expected Peter to make up a song? She didn’t understand. He wasn’t just marginally musically challenged. He was tone deaf. Melody deaf. Completely unable to make up songs. Period.

Jake twisted around and held up his arms.

Peter lifted him against his chest.

Jake snuggled close and laid his head on Peter’s shoulder. “Pedo sing, ’kay?”

Peter’s heart contracted. No way could he turn Jake down. He scoured his brain for a song to sing to a little kid. He knew all the words to one. He glanced at Jessie. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Stroking Jake’s back, he decided to go for it. “Happy birthday to you,” he intoned in his rusty monotone.

Bless him, Jake began to hum along.

Jessie turned and busied herself arranging the bookshelf but not before Peter saw the grin on her face. At least she had the decency not to laugh out loud.

His voice was even worse than he remembered. But Jake’s little hum in his ear kept him going to the finish. “Happy birthday, Thomas the Tank Engine, happy birthday to you.”

Jake’s head popped up from Peter’s shoulder, a megawatt smile on his face. “Tomut?”

Peter smiled right back.

“You’re a hit,” Jessie said.

“You were right. He’s not fussy about his music.”

A hint of a smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Time for bed now, Jake.”

Jake shook his head. “Pedo sing.”

“I don’t know any more songs,” Peter explained.

“Sing Tomut.”

“Time for sleep,” Jessie insisted. “Peter will put you in your bed, right Peter?”

“Sure will.” Peter stood and set Jake in his crib.

“Sing, Pedo?” Jake squinted up at him.

“Sorry, big guy. Time to sleep now.”

“Give him a hug and this.” Jessie handed Peter a soft, blue blanket.

Peter followed her coaching.

Jake dropped the blanket in his bed without looking at it.

Jessie stepped close to the crib and gave Jake a hug. “Good night, sweetie. See you in the morning.”