A Little Bit of Déjà Vu (4 page)

If only she’d had time to put a curling iron to her hair. And lose fifteen pounds. She really needed to get some new outfits that didn’t fit as if they’d shrunk in the laundry.

Alex held his hand out toward her. “Mrs. B, I’d like you to meet my father, Jake. Dad, Emma’s mom, Margie Bradford.”

Jake glowered at her, his eyes blazing with....
contempt
?

How could he possibly be angry when he was the one who’d rejected her? If anything, he should be grateful for what she’d done for him. She glared right back and stiffened at the confusion on the kids’ faces.

The last thing she wanted to do was explain how Jake and she were acquainted. With any luck, he wouldn’t want them to know about their past any more than she did. Maybe he was just ticked off she hadn’t told him who she was before this.

Margie swallowed back her anxiety and pasted on a superficial smile. She’d be damned if she’d let him see he’d rattled her. “How do you do, Mr. Manion. It’s nice to finally meet.”

His mouth tightened as he shook her extended hand, murmuring under his breath, “So you want to play this like strangers, huh, Rosebud?”

Jake’s gaze ping-ponged between Emma and Alex and the color instantly drained from his face. “Please, God, no.” He grabbed Margie’s arm. “I think we’d better check out the dessert case.”

“Dad, would you sit down?”

Ignoring his son, Jake dragged Margie to the front of the diner and snapped, “Maggie, please tell me she isn’t mine.”

His use of the nickname he’d given her when they’d first met chilled her like a frigid shower. Back then it had made her feel special and cherished. Now the name served as a painful reminder of the stupid girl she used to be, Jake's heartless betrayal, and of the baby she would never hold. Not in this life anyway.

“What’re you talking about?” She frowned and rubbed the sore spot where his fingers had dug into her arm. The revulsion on his face made him look as if he might heave on her at any moment, cuing her in to the horrific thing he was suggesting. “
Ugh
—no! How could you even think—”

“Thank God.” His shoulders slumped, and a breath of relief rushed out of him. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me who you were when we spoke on the phone. You must’ve been laughing your ass off all these months.”

“Hardly. Believe me, I nearly choked when I found out you were Emma’s teacher.” Literally. “And when your son asked her out….”

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “This is too strange to be real.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, it’s no mere coincidence. My conniving cousin set me up by convincing me to take the job here.”

“It figures Barbara would be involved. We can discuss tarring and feathering her later.”

“What I can’t believe is our kids fell for each other.” She glanced back at them seated in the booth, wearing matching wrinkles in their foreheads. “What were the odds of that?”

“Actually, pretty good if you think about it. Emma reminds me a lot of you, and Alex is so much a chip off the old block it’s scary. Why wouldn’t the chemistry between them be just as dynamic?”

“I suppose.”

He prodded her back toward the table. “Let’s go. The kids probably think I’ve misplaced a few of my marbles.”

“They’re not the only ones.”

“You think this is weird?” He snorted. “Stick around for the second act.”

Chapter 2

Alex catapulted out of his seat as Margie strolled back to the table with Jake on her heels. “Dad, what the heck’s going on? Did you tell—”

“No,” his father cut him off, shooting a pointed look at him that had the effect of an invisible muzzle. “I was thinking about having dessert instead. My appetite isn’t what it was.”

Ditto. Margie’s stomach felt as if it had rocks in it.

“Nothing appealed to me.” He swept his hand toward the booth, offering her a seat. She squeezed by him, inhaling the classic fragrance of Old Spice mixed with his earthy masculine scent. Even after all these years, he still smelled the same.

Once their baby had been taken from her, she’d slept with her nose pressed into the football jersey he’d given her. But his scent had dissipated from the shirt as quickly as he’d married Roxanne and made it clear he wanted nothing more to do with Margie—despite that she’d been left with no choice but to do what she’d done. He had no idea how her heart had broken, grieving alone for the child they’d made and would never know.

She slid across the bench and cast surreptitious glances at Jake. Time had etched tiny laugh lines into his face and chiseled a mature ruggedness into his features that only increased his sex appeal.

The muscles in his jaw flexed as he stared at the kids seated across from them. “Alex and Emma planned to do more than simply introduce us this evening. They have something important they need to tell you.”

Margie narrowed her gaze at her daughter’s drawn face. Emma’s cheeks flushed to a deep pink, and her recent poor appetite and sluggishness teased Margie’s subconscious. She closed her eyes and prayed out loud, “Dear Lord, please don’t let it be what I think it is.”

Alex’s mouth twisted, his nod confirming her worst fear. “I’m really sorry, Mrs. B.”

Burying her face in her hand, she suppressed the urge to scream at the irony of the situation. Fate couldn’t have that bad a sense of humor, could it?

The only difference between her past situation and her daughter’s was, unlike his father, Alex seemed to genuinely care for Emma. He treated her like something rare and precious. Then again, Jake had acted the same sweet, tender way toward Margie during their brief relationship.

Since Dan had been away so much and his wanderlust had kept their family moving around the country, Margie and her child shared a closer relationship than most mothers and daughters. Or she thought they had. She reached across the table and squeezed Emma’s hand. “Why couldn’t you come to me about this?”

A bubbly blonde waitress bounced up to the booth and interrupted to take their order. Jake glanced around the table. “I don’t think anyone cares much what they eat right now. How do four cheeseburger platters and Cokes sound?”

Margie swallowed hard and shook her head. “No, I don’t think I can eat anything. Just coffee for me, please.” She heaved an anguished sigh when the waitress left. “I knew I shouldn’t have let her go to the shore after the prom.”

“It wasn’t prom night.” Alex fiddled with his silverware. “Well, at least that’s not when I got Em—
you know
.”

Jake peered at his son. “Just how
you know
is she?”

Emma bit her lip and then whispered softly, “Four months.”

The air in Margie’s lungs whooshed out. She’d be a grandmother by Thanksgiving.

Jake groaned and dropped his chin to his chest. “Why’d you two wait so long to tell us?”

“It’s my fault.” Alex raised his hands in surrender. “I convinced Em to wait. I didn’t want anyone pushing her into an abortion.”

Her breath stalled as Jake stiffened beside her, suggesting the past also haunted him.

Alex shrugged. “We decided we’d better speak up before it became obvious.”

The lines around Jake’s mouth deepened. “You know how strongly I feel about that subject. Why would you think I’d suggest something like that?”

“It wasn’t you I was worried about.” Alex looked at Margie.

Hot tears scalded her cheeks. She could never do to Emma what had been done to her. Although, suddenly, she had an excellent understanding of the desperation her mother must have felt all those years ago.

Emma reached across the table and squeezed her arm. “I’m really sorry, Mom. I know you wanted me to wait until after I got engaged, but I love Alex. I needed to be with—”

“I know what it’s like, Emma.” Margie sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Granted, it may have been during the Jurassic era, but I was your age once upon a time. It’s why I’ve given you the sermons I have. I’d hoped you’d avoid putting yourself into situations where things could get out of hand.”

Alex shifted his gaze from his father to her. “There’s only a little over a week until graduation. We want to get married in two weeks.”

She bit her lip to keep herself from blurting out,
Over my dead body
, reminding herself she should be thankful the kid was willing to accept responsibility for sowing his seed where he shouldn’t have.

 Jake sucked in a deep breath before speaking. “Son, I applaud your decision to raise your child. But marriage is something you should put on hold until you’re both a little older. Give it a couple of years. If you still feel the same way about each other, we’ll throw the wedding of the decade.”

Margie clenched her fists under the table. Naturally Jake would be against them getting married. He would probably love to see his kid let off the hook the way he’d been. Then Alex could pursue his dreams while Emma gave up all of hers to care for his child.

Firm resolve tightened the line of Alex’s jaw. “We’re getting married
now
. I know it’ll be harder doing it without your help, so we’d like your blessing. Emma will be eighteen next weekend. We don’t need your permission.”

Jake glanced over at Margie. “What’re your feelings on this,
Mrs. Bradford?
”

Nineteen years ago, she’d let him talk her into a wedding to save his precious public image—the plans for which were aborted right along with their baby. She’d gotten her heart broken by stupidly letting herself hope he would fall in love with her. She didn’t want Alex marrying her daughter out of a sense of duty and then regretting it later. As much as Margie hated to admit it— “I totally agree with you, Mr. Manion.”

The conversation paused while the waitress delivered their drinks. Jake and the kids spent several minutes unwrapping straws while Margie added cream to her coffee and mentally counted to a hundred to squash the urge to throttle Jake’s son. The uncomfortable silence seemed to drag on forever and was only broken when the waitress stopped to tell them she’d be right back with their food.

As soon as their meal was delivered, Jake asked, “So exactly how do you see this playing out, Alex? Apparently, you’ve made plans.”

“I figured, after the wedding, Em could move in with us for the summer.”

Margie’s stomach plummeted and the smell of the greasy food nauseated her. It was too soon. Emma was supposed to live at home for another two years. “Your house? Why not—”

“No offense, Mrs. B, but your condo would be kind of crowded with three people. You’ve only got one TV and Emma’s bed—” A deep flush crept up Alex’s neck. “Well, uhh—I have a queen-sized mattress and a lot bigger room.”

Sadly enough, the kid was right. Emma’s ten-by-eleven bedroom would only accommodate a twin bed. Even if Margie could convince her daughter to turn down Alex’s offer of marriage, Emma would soon be a mother and need more space for her baby. 

“I’ll apply for an off-campus apartment for the fall. I think the coach will see to it that we get one. Em can take some night classes after the baby’s born.”

The most frustrating part of the horrifying situation was Margie had only two options. She could calmly accept what had happened, give her daughter sound advice, and be supportive of whatever Emma decided. Or she could rant, rave, and issue ultimatums, becoming a total bitch like her mother.

Jake shook some ketchup onto his plate and slowly screwed the cap back on. “In other words, you expect to let someone else support the three of you for the next four years.”

Alex stared at his father for several tense seconds. “No. I can forfeit my scholarship, get a job, and go to school part-time.” He curled his lip. “I guess it comes down to how badly does Rocket Manion want his son to follow in his footsteps?”

Jake’s hand froze, his burger hovering halfway to his mouth.

Margie bounced her gaze between them. How important
was
it to Jake that his son played football? “It sounds as if you’re trying to blackmail your dad.”

If anyone was familiar with extortion, she was. Her mother had been a pro at it.

“Maybe I am, a little.” Alex drenched a French fry with ketchup and shrugged. “I’ll do whatever it takes to be able to marry Em.”

In other words, if Margie didn’t want to drive her daughter away, she had to find a way to deal with letting her child decide her own future.

Without taking a bite, Jake tossed his burger back on the plate. “Marriage isn’t about playing house while someone else foots the bill. It’s about taking responsibility.”

“I told you, I’ll go to school part-time if I have to.”

“Finances are the least of my worries. I don’t want to see you irrevocably commit yourselves until you’re old enough to be sure you can stand looking at each other across the breakfast table the rest of your lives.”

“Old enough?” Alex’s gaze widened beneath the incredulous furrow in his brow. “What a crock, Dad. You were twenty-three when you got hitched, and you still got divorced.”

Oh, boy. She couldn’t wait to hear Jake’s response to that.

~~~

Jake cringed and glanced at Maggie’s smug expression, icy fury chilling him to the bone. The last thing he needed right now was her gloating over his failed marriage. But he couldn’t blame her. If their situations were reversed, he’d undoubtedly feel a little self-satisfied.

Damn Roxanne. Why the hell couldn’t his ex-wife have listened to him when she finally kicked the pills? If she had continued visiting their son after he rejected her, Alex would’ve eventually come around.

Every day it became more apparent Jake needed to tell his son exactly why Roxanne had left them. Then maybe Alex could unload the baggage he carried concerning his mother. Before this, he’d been too young for Jake to discuss the real reason for the failure of his marriage.

“First of all, Alex, I wasn’t mature enough to get married—even at twenty-three. But nineteen years ago, the world was different. Since then, couples have wised up and started waiting until they’re old enough to know what they really want.

“Secondly,”—Jake held two fingers up in a V—“you know the divorce wasn’t my choice. I never stopped hoping your mom and I could eventually work things out. Marriage should be for a lifetime, and I don’t want to see yours break up like your mother’s and mine did.”