An Accidental Mom (8 page)

She suddenly remembered what he’d said earlier, about Robert’s freedom.
Because, you big idiot, you went and fell in love with this big galoot, and he thinks of marriage as a prison!

“Ready?” Max said, offering her his arm.

Timidly, she took it, and walked beside him.

Beside him.

If she had her way, it’s where she’d spend the rest of her days.

“Thank you, God!” Nate said, climbing into the back seat.

God.

Max was no longer a “follower,” Lily recalled. What would it take to bring him back to the Lord? Prayer and faith had been responsible for Nate’s now-healthy condition, and it was the reason Georgia’s surgery had been such a success, too. Lily believed that with all her heart, so why couldn’t Max see it!

During the drive to River Valley Ranch, Max pointed out landmarks to his son. Funny, touching, when-I-was-a-kid stories that made Lily smile. But her mind wasn’t really on the old movie theater or
the corner drugstore. It was on the future—one that she still couldn’t imagine without Max in it.

Maybe finding someone who shared that rose-covered-cottage dream
and
her love of the Lord wouldn’t be so hard, if only she’d let Max go. Maybe she ought to take Cammi’s advice and move ahead without him.

Without him?

The very idea stung like a slap. Still, she couldn’t—
wouldn’t
—share her life with a man so stubbornly and deliberately separated from the Almighty.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Max said, reaching over the console to pat her hand. “You feelin’ okay?”

“’Course I am.” She’d answered too fast. Even she could hear the tension in her voice. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, it’s been a pretty hectic couple of weeks.”

True. There’d been Cammi’s wedding, Georgia’s surgery and therapy, Nate’s brush with death…and the new critters she’d added to her collection. She realized suddenly that this was a perfect time to express her faith. “Nothing I can’t handle. It’s all at the foot of the Cross.”

One brow rose high on his forehead, one side of his mouth turned down slightly. His nonverbal message was clear: “Believe what you want. I don’t fall for that nonsense anymore.”

“My teacher at Sunday school in Chicago said that,” Nate announced from the back seat. “She said if you give your troubles to God, He will help you through them.”

Lily smiled over her shoulder. “She’s absolutely right, Nate.”

His adorable face crinkled with uncertainty. “Maybe. But I dunno.”

Sensing he had more to say, she turned to see him better.

“I’ve been asking God for a mom for
ever,
” he said, hands extended in helpless supplication. “And when you found that dog? I talked to Him about that, too.” Frowning, Nate slapped his hands on blue-jeaned thighs. “No mom, no dog. ’Nuff said.”

“God doesn’t always answer with a yes, Nate, but He always answers.
Always.
”

He thought about that for a minute. “So His answer is no?”

He looked so sad and disappointed. Lily didn’t know what to say.
Help me, Lord. Speak through me so this little boy will grow in faith!
“I don’t think He’s saying yes or no. I think maybe He’s saying ‘wait.’ When the time’s right, if it’s His will—”

“His will? What’s that?”

What had she gotten herself in to?
Lord, don’t fail me now!
she prayed. “Well, ‘will’ is…it’s like a plan. Long before you were born, God knew you, knew what was best for you, too. And for as long as you live, He’ll do everything in His power to see that you have what you need.”

“What I need is a mom.” And he added under his breath, “A dog would be nice, too.”

Oh, if only
she
could fill the role of mom! He was adorable, big-hearted, and smarter than any four-year-
old she’d ever met. And he was part of
Max.
No wonder she’d gone nuts over him!

She chanced a peek at Max, who stared stonily through the windshield. It dawned on her that Nate’s remark had hurt his feelings, because he was trying his best to fill both roles. “Your dad does okay in the parent department, don’t you think?”

Nate shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

Max chuckled. “Careful, you two. My head gets any bigger from this onslaught of praise, I’ll have to buy a convertible.”

Lily faced front, discouraged with herself. Why hadn’t she been able to tell Nate what he needed to hear? Perhaps because she wasn’t cut out to be a mother, after all. Because if, as Cammi was always saying, she was a born nurturer, wouldn’t the words have been there, on the tip of her tongue?

“So what kind of animals do you have in the barn?” Nate asked.

She said a quick prayer of thanks for the change of subject. “One hawk with a broken wing, an owl that’s blind in one eye, a billy goat and a squirrel and a couple of monkeys…” She put a finger to her chin and squinted. “Hmm, seems I’m forgetting something.”

“What about the dog?”

She couldn’t help but notice how carefully he’d chosen his words. For an instant, she felt angry with Max for being so stubborn about a dog for his boy. But then, he’d been a dad for four years. Nate was living proof that he’d done a fine job, especially con
sidering he’d done it alone. So who was she to question his parenting tactics!

No, clearly it had been her misconception—this idea that ‘good mommy genes’ flowed in her veins. Faced with cogent evidence that she didn’t possess natural-born skills, after all, Lily was torn. On the one hand, this new revelation freed her to move in a different direction with her life; on the other, it required her to give up her dream. Not an easy undertaking, because, frankly, she’d grown pretty comfortable with it.

“That dog you found in the lake, I mean.”

She forced a giggle. “Of course! How could I forget Missy?”

“Why’d you name her that?”

“Because we don’t know how she got here, or where her owners are. She’s a mystery. So I started calling her Miss Terry, Missy for short.”

As his mother had when Lily explained the reasons behind the name choice, Max groaned. “I get it. ‘Mys-tery.’” He shook his head. “That’s reachin’, Lil,’ he teased. “
Really
reachin’.”

He pulled into the long, ribboning lane that connected the highway to the house. “Place looks just as I remember it,” Max said, parking in the circular drive.

“Wow,” Nate said. “It’s as big as the castle at Disney World!” He popped out of the car, sneakered feet thudding across the bridge’s wide planks. “Look, Dad. A river!” he said, pointing.

“And Lily’s dad put it there, with his own two hands,” Max said. “Amazing, isn’t it?”

Nate’s voice was filled with amazement. “Yeah. I’ll say.”

Lily led the way to the barn, with Nate skipping on ahead and Max walking on her left. “Dad has never done anything halfway.”

Max nodded. “My pop was the same way. He never built a river, mind you,” he teased, “but he always said, ‘Do your best or don’t bother.’ Didn’t matter if I was cleaning my room or doing homework or mowing the lawn. ‘It’s a test of a man’s character,’ he’d tell me, ‘to see what kind of work he’ll put out when he thinks nobody’s watching.’” Using his chin as a pointer, he nodded at Nate. “I’m trying to do for him what my dad did for me.”

“You’re doing a terrific job. Nate’s a great kid, and he didn’t get that way with smoke and mirrors.”

“I’m trying,” he said again. “But they’re big shoes to fill,” he said. “Real big.”

“Your dad was a wonderful man,” Lily agreed. She remembered Max’s father from Youth Group at church. He’d volunteered one evening a week to run the program that allowed parish teens to gather for basketball or board games, movies in town, or just sit around, talking. He’d organized fund-raisers, picnics, collections for the needy, and taught “his kids” the importance of sharing not only their time, but themselves.

“My biggest regret,” he said, “is that Nate will never meet him.”

“And I’ll bet he regrets not getting to know Nate. Hard not to love that kid.”

Max stepped in front of her, blocking her path. She
didn’t know what to make of the intense eye contact, didn’t know how to read the silent message he sent on the invisible cable connecting their gazes.

“Dad! Lily!” Nate called. “I can hear ’em in there!”

The boy stood, ear pressed to the barn door, waving them forward. It was enough to get Lily’s feet moving. “We’ll have to be very quiet,” she whispered, opening the door, “and move very slowly once we get inside, so we don’t startle anybody.”

Nate nodded, dark eyes bright with anticipation. Max looked pretty excited himself, Lily thought, smiling. As the threesome walked among the cages and stalls, Lily introduced them to her “patients.”

Missy loped up, long golden fur rippling with each happy stride. She stopped just feet away from Nate, rear end in the air and tail wagging as she lowered her shoulders, an invitation to play.

His grin made it clear that he was more than happy to oblige. “Hi, girl,” he said, kneeling on the straw-covered floor.

The dog nuzzled the crook of his neck. “Hey, that tickles!” he said, laughing so hard he lost his balance and rolled onto his side. “And your nose is cold!” he added. On his knees again, he hugged her. “I like you, Missy. You’re fun!”

Max leaned his forearm on a stall door and shook his head. “Gonna be hard, makin’ a clean getaway from here after
that
introduction.”

So he’d made the decision, had he, that Nate couldn’t have the dog? It was a shame…for Nate. But
good for her, because she’d become very attached to the retriever.

Lamont’s pup, Obnoxious, joined them, his quiet, breathy barks starting up a whole new fit of giggles in Nate. “Do
all
your dogs have cold noses?”

“These are the only dogs we have,” Lily said. “And yes, most dogs have cold, wet snouts.”

“Snouts,” Nate giggled. “That’s funny, Lily.” He jumped up, grabbed Max’s hand and asked, “Dad, Dad! Are we having ham for Thanksgiving dinner like we did last year?”

“Where did
that
come from?” Max said.

“Well, Lily said snouts, and pigs have snouts, and— I dunno. I just thought of it.” He went back to playing with the dogs.

Lily frowned slightly. “Ham, instead of the traditional turkey dinner and all the trimmings?”

Max blushed guiltily. “Never learned how to roast a turkey, but ham I can do.”

“Dad calls it our Canned Holiday feast, ’cause everything comes out of a can. ’Cept the gravy. That comes in a jar.” He hid his grin behind both hands. “’Member how you forgot to thaw out the pun-kin pie last year?” A merry giggle punctuated the question. “And we had to slice it with the ’lectric knife? And how it crunched when we ate it? That was really funny, huh, Dad.”

Max’s blush deepened. “Yeah. A real memory-maker, all right.” He lifted both shoulders and extended his hands, palm up. “I never claimed to be a French chef.”

“Well, sounds to me like you did just fine, cooking
for two.” Lily hoped, even as she said it, that Max would correct her, that he’d disagree and point out how many others had joined them at their holiday table. When he remained silent, she realized they’d spent the day alone.

Had they eaten
all
their holiday dinners that way?

The picture of the pair of them, huddled over a Formica table at Georgia’s Diner, eating TV dinners or canned ham, upset her more than she could bear. And Georgia wasn’t well enough yet to stand all day, basting the turkey, mixing up the stuffing, whipping potatoes….

“We always have a huge feast on Thanksgiving,” Lily said, opening a can of dog food. “You and Nate are more than welcome. Georgia and Robert, too, of course.” She plopped the meat into a bowl near the one-eyed owl.

Nate looked up at her as if he believed she’d hung the moon. “You mean a
real
turkey, with gravy and stuffing…and
everything?
”

Lily laughed. “Yep. And a whole table full of desserts, too.” To Max she said, “Nadine always joins us, and she’s bringing one of her sons and his family this year. It’ll be great. A big old-fashioned fiesta!”

The boy wiggled his pointer finger, summoning his dad closer. “Can we go, Dad?”

Max looked hesitant. “You’re sure it’ll be all right with your dad?”

“Absolutely. ‘The more, the merrier,’ he always says.” She spooned dog food into another container in the hawk’s cage. “Eat up, now,” she crooned to
it. “You have a long way to go before your wing is healed well enough for you to fly home.”

The bird cocked its head, watching Lily first with one gleaming eye, then the other. As she scrubbed her hands, Lily said, “Maybe after dinner on Thursday, all you fellas can have yourselves a rousing game of football.”

Father and son followed her around the barn, looking over her shoulder as she changed bandages, fed and watered every creature, and gave each one a moment of affection and one-on-one attention. Nate stared, open-mouthed, as she petted the one-eyed owl. “Aren’t you scared he’ll bite you? He has a very sharp beak.”

“No,” Lily said, stroking the feathered hunter’s head, “because I’ve gotten to know him very well.” To the owl, she said, “You would
never
bite me, would you?” In response, it merely blinked its golden eye.

Lily washed up again, and as she dried her hands she said, “How ’bout some hot chocolate, Nate? I make mine from scratch.”

“Scratch? What’s that?”

“It means ‘not from a mix,’” Max offered.

“Is it better than the stuff in the little envelopes?”

“Way better.” He chuckled. “What a great way to top off a cold Sunday evening.”

Missy pranced alongside her as she led them down the flagstone path connecting the barn to the back porch, wondering as they went what they’d find to talk about while she prepared the cocoa, while they sipped it.

“I like Lily, Dad….”

Lily knew she wasn’t supposed to have heard that; the boy had done his four-year-old best to whisper.

“…and not just ’cause she’s pretty, either.”

It was all she could do to keep from turning around to see how Max had reacted to
that.