The Daughter He Wanted (17 page)

“Momma, wait!” Kaylie’s little footsteps clattered down the hall and she threw her arms around Paige’s hips. “I’ll miss you.” Paige hugged the little girl close.

“I’ll miss you, too. But Auntie Al has a lot of fun stuff planned and I’ll see you for breakfast in the morning, okay?”

Kaylie pecked a kiss on Paige’s cheek. “Mmm-kay. See you in the morning.” And then she ran back down the hall. Alex heard a soft thump that had to be Kaylie landing on the couch.

“There’s a twenty on the counter for pizza. Thank you.” She held on to the doorknob but didn’t move.

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you called. It means a lot.”

She waited another moment. “You know, Monopoly is a little, uh, advanced for four-year-olds. Maybe just color? Everything you’ll need is in the hall closet.”

“I’ll let her be the shoe.” Doubt clouded Paige’s eyes so Alex pushed on. “What little girl doesn’t like buying stuff?”

“Yeah, but—”

Alex touched her hand and her car keys jingled. “Go, you’ll be late. We’ll be fine. It’s only a couple of hours, right?”

“Okay, well, text me if you need anything. I’ll talk to you soon.”

And she was gone.

Alex looked into the living room at the painting of the daisy. A small house had been added to the background and it looked remarkably like Paige’s home. He ran his finger over the side and smiled. Painting Kaylie’s own house onto the canvas was a nice touch. He wondered what other surprises Paige had in store for their daughter.

In the kitchen, Alex grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and asked Kaylie what she wanted to do.

“Play ‘Angry Birds,’” she replied, never looking up from the game. “Do you like ‘Angry Birds’?” She reclined against a couple of pillows, feet on the couch and knees pulled up. The tablet rested against her legs and she tapped the screen.

“Never played it.” Alex checked the clock. At least five minutes had passed since Paige left. “Your mom said five more minutes, kiddo. You should turn it off now.”

“After I finish this level. I have a red-bird bomb and a chicken bomb to set off next.”

Seemed like a good compromise so Alex left her to the game and set up the Monopoly board on the kitchen counter while he finished his water. He glanced at the clock again. At least ten minutes had passed.

“Kaylie, time’s up.” He used his most firm voice, imitating the tone he remembered his father using often when he was growing up.

“I don’t have three stars yet. I need three stars.”

Alex walked to the sofa as Kaylie used her last bird-bomb and started the level over. “It’s time to turn it off, kiddo.” Alex reached for the device but Kaylie pulled it away from him.

“I have to have three stars. It’s not done ’til I have three stars.” She hit the play button, took aim with a yellow bird and tapped the screen to let it fly. Two monkeys and a wooden stick house were taken out. Interesting game. Alex settled beside her, giving her a hint for the next bomb. Another two monkeys and a cement house dropped this time, along with a pineapple. “We got the treasure!” Kaylie’s voice squealed across the room. She high-fived Alex and loaded another bird into the slingshot.

This time the last of the wooden houses fell down and the last monkey fell over, leaving two birds with nothing to hit. They’d won the level.

Kaylie bounced on the couch, tablet held high over her head. “I won, I won, IwonIwonIwon.” She bounced a few more times and then flopped down on the sofa. “Let’s get more pineapples!” she said, her voice lowered into a growl. Alex reached for the tablet and she jerked it away from him. “No!”

“Kaylie, it’s time to stop. You have three stars and it’s time to stop.” Alex used his dad voice again, but it didn’t work.

Kaylie grabbed the tablet and scooted off the couch. “No, I want pineapples. More pineapples.”

What did that parenting book say? Kids needed limits. This was the limit. It was past Paige’s five-minute mark, she’d finished the level and gotten the three stars. “Kaylie,” he began.

“I need more pineapples!” Kaylie yelled, little hands fisted around the tablet.

Alex kept his voice steady but the blood was pounding in his ears. He didn’t want to be the bad guy but he also wanted to be obeyed. What was it Paige had said that first day? Kids had to learn there were things they had to do—like homework and jobs. Well, there were also things they had to learn not to do. Like throw fits. “No.”

Kaylie pushed into a corner of the sofa, the tablet pulled to her chest like a shield. “More pineapples,” she said, this time in a quieter voice and with tears in her eyes. Okay, so Paige made this look supereasy.

Alex took the tablet from her and put it on a high shelf while she sniffled about pineapples and treasure. He could handle it.

Hadn’t he talked a drunken hiker back to the campground just a few weeks ago? And didn’t he deal with angry, didn’t-understand-how-RVs-worked city dwellers on at least a weekly basis during the summer months? He’d graduated at the top of his college class. Hell, he’d managed just fine when Dee was so sick she couldn’t stomach the smell of fresh fruit in the house. He could deal with a four-year-old’s tantrum.

“Why don’t we play a different game?”

“I was
playing
a game. I want ‘Angry Birds’!” Kaylie folded her arms over her chest and kicked her foot against the sofa once more for good measure. Where had the sweet, funny little girl he’d known for the past two weeks gone?

“I brought Monopoly and Old Maid.” Alex kneeled down before her, offering a perfectly sound solution, at least in his opinion. He ignored the sweat rolling down his back and the panic he could feel clawing its way from his chest. He could handle this. “Which would you like to play?”

“I’d like to play ‘Angry Birds,’” she said, in the calm Kaylie-voice he recognized.

“We’re not playing video games right now. It’s time for something different.”

“Then I want a snack.”

Alex took a breath. “I brought veggies and dip or we can see what’s in the fridge.”

“I like dip.”

Alex breathed a sigh of relief. That hadn’t been so hard. A little uncomfortable, but to be expected. No one liked to be told no. He pulled veggies and dip from the bag on the counter, and then read Paige’s note about tableware and glasses. Kaylie picked up the serving spoon he’d set down, scooped half the container of dip out and plopped it mostly on her plate, then raked her finger through it and tasted.

“Yum. Good snack!” She devoured a little more dip while Alex dished a couple of carrots, broccoli and a sweet yellow pepper onto her plate. She pushed the veggies off. “Don’t like those.”

“Broccoli’s good.” Alex dipped a stalk and took a bite. Kaylie wrinkled her nose.

“Broccoli trees grow in my mouth. Yuk.” And she dipped her finger into the dip again before licking it off.

Okay, lots of kids probably didn’t like broccoli. He hadn’t liked it until he was a teenager. No big deal. “How about a carrot?”

“Too crunchy.” She dipped her finger again.

“A yellow pepper?”

Kaylie shook her head and her curls bounced around her face. “Pepper makes me sneeze.” And she directed a fake sneeze toward the veggies.

Alex held back the chuckle threatening to escape his throat and dipped a pepper, took a healthy bite. “That’s a different kind of pepper. These are sweet.” He held one out. “Try it.”

She shook her head furiously. “No. Don’t like it.”

“Just one bite?”

Kaylie clamped her lips closed and pushed her plate across the table, straight into the dip she’d dumped onto the counter.

“How about some juice?”

She shook her head.

“A cracker?”

Another shake.

“You said you were hungry. You can’t just have dip.” Alex placed his hands on his hips. And then quickly shoved them in his pockets. Nineteen-fifties mom he was not.

“I’ll play ‘Angry Birds,’” she said and was off the stool in a heartbeat. She sprinted for the shelves and started to climb, but Alex reached her before the shelving unit could topple over on her. Heart beating fast, he spun away and set her on the couch.

“No ‘Angry Birds.’ No tablet. You’ve had enough screen time.”

“I didn’t scream.”

“
Screen
, not
scream.
” Alex sat on the coffee table so he could look directly into the little girl’s eyes. “Mommy said no more tablet. So no more tablet. Do you want a snack? Or do you want to play a game?”

“You’re not Mommy.”

No, he wasn’t. He was barely Daddy at this point, and she didn’t even know that. “I’m a friend and Mommy left me in charge until Auntie Alison gets here.”

“Auntie Alison will let me play,” Kaylie said in a wheedling tone. Yeah, he wasn’t falling for that one.

“Nice try, kid. No tablet. No ‘Angry Birds.’ How about we play Monopoly?”

“Movie?” she asked hopefully.

“Nope. No screen time.”

She wrinkled her brow. “I don’t know what that means.”

“It means no TV or movies and no video games.”

She thought for a second. “Read a book?”

“Sure, what do you want to read?”

Kaylie pointed to the high shelf. “Biscuit books.”

“I like Biscuit. Where are your books?”

She pointed to the shelf and offered him a sweet smile and nearly batting eyelids. “On the screen.”

Alex bit back a smile. Precocious little terror. When Kaylie got an idea into her head, she didn’t give it up easily. “How about an actual book? From the shelf.”

She sighed. “Okay, we’ll play a game. Go Fish?”

Finally, something he knew. “I brought that game with me, too.”

They were just finishing round two of the game when the house phone rang. Alison’s name displayed on the ID pad as Alex picked up.

“If you’re calling about dinner, I have no idea. So far Kaylie’s polled for doughnuts and cupcakes.”

“Who is this?” Alison’s voice was creaky over the phone line and Alex’s senses went on alert.

“It’s Alex, what’s wrong?”

“Flu. Or maybe that old wives’ tale about never eating shrimp from a vending machine is really true.” Alex heard a hoarse cough over the line and then the sound of retching. He shivered and held the phone away from his ear. “How did I call your number instead of Paige’s?”

“You didn’t. I’m at Paige’s. The babysitter canceled at the last minute, so I’m filling in until you get here. Only I’m thinking it’s best if you stay home.” Kaylie pulled on his T-shirt hem and pointed to the fridge.

“I want juice.”

Alex grabbed a box of apple juice from the fridge and handed it to her. Kaylie wandered back to the table and started dividing the cards according to color as she sipped through the straw.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll take some more Pepto and be there in ten minutes—” she began.

“Alison, go to bed. Pour a glass of ginger ale and keep sipping it all night. You don’t want to dehydrate.”

“You’re a good guy, Alex Ryan. My investigator was right about you.” Another round of retching and then, “Paige is a lucky girl. Tell her I said so.” She hung up the phone and Alex looked at it for a long minute. He wasn’t positive but that sounded like a compliment.

Alex placed the phone back on the hook, watched it for a long minute. Investigator? Tuck had told him Alison was the HR rep for the winery. Had she used her contacts to look into his past? He tried to be angry but couldn’t. She was looking out for her friend and he couldn’t blame her for that. Plus, he could have a little fun with Paige over it when she was home. He watched the phone for another minute before deciding not to call Paige about Alison’s illness. She probably had enough on her plate with the preteen drama at the lock-in. He had this under control. He turned back to Kaylie as she placed the last blue and pink cards in their appropriate piles, a finger of dread crawling up his spine. He barely survived the past ninety minutes, could he make it through an entire night?

“Well, kiddo, it’s just you and me tonight. What do you say we think about dinner?”

She cocked her head to the side and her wavy hair tumbled over her shoulders. “I want to eat dinner, not think about it.”

Alex grinned. He pushed the weakness away. He conquered the video game tantrum. Paige called him to fill in, which meant she trusted him. He could make it through a single night. He was the dad.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

P
AIGE PULLED INTO
her drive, rubbed her dry eyes and then gave in to exhaustion—just for a moment—and laid her head against the steering wheel. The last of the third graders had knocked out somewhere between four and five this morning, which wouldn’t have been so bad. But preknockout, there had been girl drama. There was Emily, who forgot to mention her lactose intolerance until after scarfing down two extralarge slices of pizza, and then Analeise, who decided she wouldn’t talk to anyone wearing a ponytail. That included most of the girls and both chaperones. Dealing with her had been a treat. But it was over. The last of the parents had been at the school at seven-thirty. She’d done her teacherly duty and for at least another month she could use it to avoid things like bake sales and play rehearsals.

She took a breath, promising herself the biggest cup of coffee she could make—shoot, she might just drink straight from the carafe—followed by as many Cokes as she needed to get through the rest of the day without screaming for help.

Well, the coffee wouldn’t make itself. She spotted mail peeking from the box on the porch. She forgot to bring it inside last night. Paige trudged up the walk, plucked the envelopes from the box and started for the back porch as she thumbed through the notices. Cable bill, bank statement. An envelope from the clinic, probably telling her what they already knew: Alex was Kaylie’s father. She was too tired to deal with any of it right then so she pushed open the back door and dropped the mail onto the little side table. When she turned back to the room, Paige stopped dead.

Alex and Kaylie snuggled on her small sofa, Kaylie’s head wedged between his armpit and the oversize cushion. He had one arm thrown over his eyes and the other across Kaylie’s back. Her little girl feet barely reached to his knees and his legs hung over the too-short end. Both had their mouths open and were snoring softly in the quiet room. Her heart clutched at the sight. If they’d been a family, a real family, how many times would she have seen this very thing?