Rachel Laine (The Women of Merryton Book 3) (10 page)

BOOK: Rachel Laine (The Women of Merryton Book 3)
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“I
can carry him upstairs,” Andrew offered.

I
peered into his hopeful eyes.

“I
haven’t been able to carry him for years. He’s pretty solid.”

He
flexed his free arm and winked.

What
could I say to him? He picked up our son with the utmost care. He paused for a
moment as soon as he held Drew securely in his strong arms and looked down at
him like he’d just won the World Series.

I
sighed and walked up the stairs. My heart was in my throat. Andrew followed,
carrying the most important thing in my life. I pulled down his Stallion’s
quilt and matching blue sheets. Andrew laid him on top and I pulled up the
covers around him. I kissed his forehead one more time, but I lingered for a
moment and whispered, “I love you.”

Andrew
was on the other side of Drew, kneeling. He gently ruffled his hair and looked
around the room. “Seriously, we need to talk about redecorating this place,” he
whispered.

I
shook my head no and smiled before I got up and walked toward the stairs. He
followed and we made our way down the wooden steps. I was planning to take my
seat back, but Andrew asked me to sit on the couch with him so we could talk
without being overheard. We sat down and faced each other.

I
leaned my head against my hand. “So, Mr. Turner, what do you want to talk
about?”

He
thought for a moment as his eyes danced. “Well, I was thinking that if you want
to have a say in the kinds of women I introduce Drew to, then I should get a
say in the men you introduce him to.”

I
never knew what to expect with him. “I never said I wanted a say.”

“Oh
believe me, you were loud and clear you didn’t want any … what did you call
them? ‘Silicone Barbie dolls’ in Drew’s life.”

He
was the most exasperating man. “Is everything a joke to you?”

“I’m
being completely serious. I’m pledging to you—no fake women. So what are you
going to give up for me?”

“This
is a moot point. I told you I don’t date.”

His
eyes scanned me from head to toe. “I don’t believe it.”

“Well,
believe it.”

He
narrowed his eyes at me. “So you’re telling me you never plan on dating or
getting married? What about more kids?”

I
hadn’t thought about those things in a long time because I knew I could never
have them—at least not for many years, which scratched more kids off the list.
I didn’t want to start over in my forties like Taylor. But not being able to
have more children was one thing I would regret. If I could have ten more, I
would. It was one of those things I had to push to the back of my mind, but
Andrew didn’t need to know all that. I sat up straight and looked into those
amber eyes. I took a moment to wonder what it would be like to be as happy-go-lucky
as he was. I couldn’t even imagine, so I took a deep breath and sighed. “Andrew,
I knew when I agreed to raise Drew there would be certain sacrifices involved,
but a true sacrifice is giving up something good for something better, and
nothing is better than Drew. And who knows, maybe when Drew is grown I won’t
look too hideous, and some poor guy will still find me attractive.”

He
reached out and rested his hand on my cheek. His hand felt warm and engulfed
the side of my head. “You know, I don’t think that’s going to be an issue for
you.”

I
was taken aback by the touch and how it made me feel. Why did I feel that
beautiful feeling you get at the beginning of a budding relationship? You know,
that feeling of sweet euphoria? It didn’t make sense.

He
dropped his hand, and with it, the feeling went away. “With that being said, I
say no football players for you.”

I
couldn’t help but smile at him. “I’ve never had such an absurd conversation.”

“You’re
welcome,” he responded.

“So,
is that all you wanted to talk about?”

I
could see the muscles in his face tense up. It made me nervous.

“Well,
there is one woman I would like to introduce Drew and you to.”

My
insides squirmed. I felt faint. I wasn’t ready for all of this.

“My
mom wants to meet him.”

Chapter Eleven

 

Andrew
was wreaking havoc on my life. First of all, he stayed way too late again,
which I didn’t understand. He didn’t even leave after the Bears won. Though we
barely watched the game after Drew went to bed. He talked more than any of my
girlfriends, and I found myself having the most ridiculous conversations with
him—for example, he wanted to know if I were in the circus, what would my job
be? He wanted to know all sorts of things, everything from my favorite color to
the best gift I’d ever received. He even asked lame things like if I was
stranded on an island, who and what would I want with me. He didn’t make the
cut, which he pretended to be disappointed by. I felt like I was a thirteen-year-old
girl at a slumber party. I kept waiting for him to say “let’s play M.A.S.H.” or
something like that.

Not
only was I going to bed late because of him, but I couldn’t sleep due to the constant
worry in the pit of my stomach. Now I had to agonize about meeting his mother.
My own mother was going to flip when she heard that the other grandma had now
entered the picture. I tried to tell him it wasn’t a good idea until he finally
came out of the closet.

“Isn’t
it wrong to deny the woman that gave me birth and lost her husband such
happiness?” he said. He gave me some sob story that his mother had wanted
grandchildren for years, and though she wasn’t thrilled to hear the
circumstances under which Drew was conceived, she was over the moon that she
finally had what her son had been denying her for years.

So
now Evelyn Turner would be joining us tomorrow. In my opinion, Andrew was only
adding to the tangled web he was already weaving. He disagreed with me, and
promised me his mother would be discreet.

I
wasn’t worried about his mother keeping his secret. I would be happy if she
blabbed it to the whole world because maybe then her son would do the right
thing and tell his son the truth. And maybe he would think twice about running
for office so that he could prevent any scrutiny that may come our way in that
event. No, what I was worried about were selfish things like having another
person I would have to share Drew with. And what if I didn’t like her? Or what
if Drew loved her more than me? I knew those were all terrible thoughts, but I
was human, and in my defense, it was a lot to throw at a person at one time.

Once
I did fall asleep, I was restless. Andrew was now invading every part of my
life, whether I was conscious or not. Most of the dreams that he starred in
were the kind that made no sense at all. I couldn’t even decipher their
meaning. But then … oh, then it happened. I shot up straight in bed. My hand
went straight to my chest, and I audibly gasped. I could feel my heart beat
erratically through my silk pajama top. It was so real; I had to remind myself
it wasn’t. I touched my lips to verify. Why in the world would I dream of being
in his arms while he tenderly kissed my lips? A better question would have been
why, in my dream, did I long for it?

I
threw off my covers, trying to shock myself back into reality. I tried to shake
off the feel of his soft lips, the way he tasted like wintergreen, and the way
my body seemed to meld so perfectly into his. I tried to forget how warm and
gentle his hands felt as they caressed my face. I had to remind myself I
couldn’t stand the man, and it was only a dream. A manufactured feeling induced
by firing neurons in my brain. It meant nothing.

I
checked my clock, but it was only a few minutes past five. Too early to be up,
especially on a Saturday. A Saturday when I needed to be on my A game. I lay
back down and tried to get my breathing under control. I tried my best to get
Andrew Turner out of my head. I wasn’t doing a good job. I hadn’t been kissed
like that in so long, and I missed it. My dream was better than any real-life kisses
I could remember. I didn’t even remember Brody’s kisses making me feel so alive.

Sometimes
I couldn’t even remember why I had agreed to marry Brody in the first place. He
was a nice guy, but he was boring. He was finishing up his master’s in European
history. There was no doubt he would have been an excellent teacher, and even a
good provider, but he had our whole lives planned out. And having a baby didn’t
come until year five in his plan for our marriage. I remembered begging him to
reconsider breaking off our engagement. I promised him it would all work out
and we could still be happy together. He was so rigid; he wouldn’t even
consider it. I guess maybe I wanted to get back together at the time because I
saw what a life out of control looked like, and I wanted no part of that. And
maybe I had a little rigidity in my personality, too. I liked predictability,
but having a child is anything but predictable.

Maybe
that’s why I had such an issue with Andrew. He was the least predictable person
I had ever met, and he was stripping me of any control, real or pretend, I
thought I had. Sometimes I even found myself liking the idiot. If only he
wasn’t Drew’s father, and if only he hadn’t had a one-night stand with my
sister. I had to get these thoughts out of my head.

I
smashed my face into my pillow, screamed into it, and wondered what happened to
my well-ordered life. It was amazing the damage one letter could do.

Trying
to get back to sleep was pretty much a fruitless exercise, so at six I got up
and ran a bath. I could have counted on one hand the times I had taken a bath
in the last eight years. There wasn’t much time for relaxing or being alone in
a tub when you were a single mother of an active boy, but I knew he wouldn’t be
up for at least an hour. My jetted tub needed a trial run. Once the water was
the right temperature and height, I sank in. I tried to unwind and relax. I
started at my toes and worked my way up, stretching and moving each muscle, breathing
in deeply.

The
day that was on tap wasn’t going to be easy, and the bath was a much needed
relaxant. Watching my son get tackled might turn out to be the highlight of the
day.

I
dressed with a purpose, although I wasn’t sure why I felt I needed to look good
or impress this woman. I guess I didn’t want anyone second-guessing my ability
to be a good mother to Drew. All the insecurities that had plagued me when Drew
was first born came rushing back. I remembered taking Drew to the store when he
was a baby and I had felt like everyone was staring at me because I was so
young and I hadn’t a clue what I was doing. But I managed. Now, once again, I
had no clue what I was doing.

At
eight I got Drew up and readied him for his game. Our conversation centered on
Andrew. Drew thought he was the best and couldn’t wait to see him again. Then
he said the words that I had feared.

“I
wish I had a dad like Andrew.”

I
dropped the gallon of milk I was holding and stood there, staring at the capped
milk jug, stunned. My heart was racing. I needed a moment.

“Mom,
maybe you can marry Andrew.”

I
cleared my throat and tried to swallow my heart back down. I couldn’t even look
at my little guy. “Bud, Andrew and I aren’t getting married. He comes here
because he likes you.”

Why
did that last part sound like a lie? Yes, it was true Andrew liked him. I would
even say he had stronger feelings for him, but it was a lie because it wasn’t
the whole truth. And I hated that.

I
picked up the milk and placed it back in the refrigerator.

“But
maybe you could.”

I
wished I could say I didn’t hear the longing in his voice. Maybe he really had
wanted a dad and he’d just never said anything. Andrew needed to tell him the
truth. I needed to.

I
turned to face my guy. He looked more than sweet with a spoonful of oatmeal in
his hand as he sat at the breakfast bar. I managed a smile for him, but it was
tight-lipped. “Kiddo, Andrew and I aren’t getting married. Okay?”

“Why
not?”

Why
wouldn’t he let this go? “Honey, we barely know each other and we don’t love
each other.”
And he slept with your biological mom and he’s making my life a
living hell right now. And by the way, he’s your dad, but he won’t tell you.

“But,
Mom—”

“Finish
your oatmeal, bud.” I cut him off at the pass. I was beyond done with the
conversation. It unfortunately meant I had to have another chat with the
culprit who had instigated these ludicrous thoughts inside my eight-year-old’s
head.

While
Drew got dressed, I took the opportunity to call Andrew from my room.

“Well,
this is a first.” He sounded overly delighted.

“First
and last.”

“Good
morning to you, too, Rachel Laine.”

I
got straight to the point. “We have a problem. No, actually, we still have the
same problem and that problem is causing me more problems.”

“Slow
down there. What are you talking about?”

“I’m
talking about this stupid charade that we’re putting on. Do you know what Drew
said to me this morning?” I didn’t wait for a response. “He said, ‘I wish
Andrew was my dad.’”

“That’s
awesome.”

“No,
Andrew, that’s not awesome. He thinks that the only way for that to happen is
for you and me to get married.”

He
started laughing. The idiot. “So, what did you tell him?”

“I
told him that was in no way happening. But you should have seen the look on his
face. Andrew, we can’t keep this from him any longer. It’s not right.”

At
least he quit laughing. “We will tell him, but not until the election or
appointment has happened.”

“Fine,
then you need to quit coming up here.”

“Please,
Rachel. Do we have to argue about this every day?”

“No,
we don’t. You just need to do the right thing.”

“I
am doing the right thing.”

I
rubbed the side of my head. He was giving me a headache. “I’ve got to get Drew
to his game.”

“I’ll
see you in a few hours. Wish Drew luck for me.”

I
hung up without saying goodbye. I was so tired of this. I was so tired of him.

~*~

Drew’s
game was a blowout. The Colts trounced the Jets and Drew was barely touched. I
waited to tell my mom about the other grandma until after lunch. No use in
ruining it for everyone. It was bad enough I had to know and think about it
incessantly.

The
only bright spot had been sitting next to Taylor during halftime. “Do you think
we could meet for lunch this week?” I asked her. I needed to talk to someone,
and I knew she and Easton would be discreet and would understand my situation.

“Sure.
Everything okay? I hear you’re having a relationship with a Yukon,” she teased.

I
tried to be covert. “The Yukon is causing me some issues.”

Her
eyebrows got lost in her bangs. “Name the time.”

“Monday,
in your office? Would that work?”

She
reached over and took my hand. “Yes, and I’ll bring lunch.”

Perfect.
She was one of the best cooks I knew, and when she cooked, it was always
healthy. One of the perks of being friends with a clinical nutritionist.

After
the game we ate at Jessie Belle’s for lunch, it was our go to place. Well, at
least I tried to eat. My nerves were shot. My parents kept giving me understanding
glances, even though they didn’t know the half of it.

While
we walked out to our cars, I hung back with my mom and asked my dad to get Drew
into the car.

“Mom.”
I bit my lip and looked up to the sky. “Um, Andrew is bringing his mother up to
meet Drew.” I had to dare myself to look at her reaction.

“Well,
I figured it was coming,” she said.

That
wasn’t what I expected. “And you’re okay with it?”

“Rachel
Laine, most children have two sets of grandparents. And maybe this will be good
for Drew and you.”

I
shook my head, confused.

She
took my hand. “Honey, you’ve got to learn to let go a little.”

I
didn’t know what to say. I stood in the cold, staring blankly at my mom.

“You’ve
always been willing to shoulder the world. Your dad and I placed a huge burden
on you when Drew was born. We should have taken him, we were the grandparents,
but we just …”

I
knew what she was going to say; we’d had the same talk a few dozen times. My
parents had always felt guilty that I took him. They both thought I gave up a
family of my own to raise Drew. I never looked at it like that. Drew
was
my family. I couldn’t imagine loving a child more, even if I had birthed him.
Yes, I was sad I would probably never experience that, and yes I wanted more
children, but Drew would always be mine. I was glad my parents didn’t feel up
to the task. My mom had always suffered from health issues, nothing they could
ever really pinpoint, but she was unwell a lot. Soon she and my dad would fly
to Arizona for a good portion of the winter. Cold weather always made my mom
feel worse. The only reason they were still here was to see Drew finish his
season.

I
wrapped my arms around my mom. “Mom, thank you for letting me have Drew.”

BOOK: Rachel Laine (The Women of Merryton Book 3)
11.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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