Best Laid Plans (5 page)

As soon as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the restaurant, he spotted Rayburn sitting at the bar. Although his Zen master would have scolded him for the unkind thought, the phrase that came to mind was “fat and happy.” Not fat in a literal sense. He just seemed self-satisfied and soft, a man with no hard edges.

He clapped Rayburn on the back. “So you got the job.”

The other man smiled and grasped Jake’s hand. “It was meant to be.”

Jake followed him to their table, only half-listening while the other man described his new job responsibilities and the series of interviews he wanted Jake to do. Once they were seated, Rayburn tried to order him a single-malt whiskey, but he asked for mineral water. He didn’t need to read the menu, having already decided on a salad, but Richard concentrated on it like it was a legal contract while Jake, anxious to talk about Violet, played with his fork.

“So, do you see much of Violet Gallagher?” he asked as soon as the other man snapped his menu shut. If the two of them were still friends, he would know the identity of the man who wanted to adopt his daughter.

Rayburn frowned, and didn’t reply until they’d given the waiter their order. Then he leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed in front of his charcoal jacket.

“It’s you, isn’t it? You’re Daisy’s father. I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out until now.”

Jake couldn’t believe it either. He didn’t know if the baby resembled him, but couldn’t the man do simple arithmetic? “Violet never told you?”

“No. She just said the man wouldn’t be part of Daisy’s life, and it was what I wanted to hear.”

So much for the six months spent in a monastery learning to control his emotions, including anger — Jake’s blood was starting to simmer. Again. “I couldn’t be part of my daughter’s life when I didn’t know I
had
a daughter.”

Richard’s eyes opened so wide the white was visible above the irises. “She didn’t tell you, either?”

“Very close-lipped girl, our Violet.”

Jake could see the other man felt as foolish as he did, and they shared a rueful smile as the waiter placed their meals in front of them.

“Did you know Violet’s father was Monty McCall?” Richard asked when the waiter left.

“The Ultimate’s original drummer?”

He nodded, his mouth full.

Jake knew Monty McCall was an over-the-top bad boy rocker who lived the phrase “sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll,” and died by it, too.

“Her stepfather adopted Violet and her brother, that’s why her name is Gallagher. I suspect that after having some experience with bad parenting, she didn’t think an accidental pregnancy would turn you into father of the year.”

“But here’s the thing,” Jake said, ignoring his salad. “Daisy is my child. I can’t just let some other guy waltz in and raise her. Violet needs to give me a chance. Just because my job takes me out of the country doesn’t make me Monty McCall.”

Richard chewed his salmon slowly and took a sip of wine, frowning at Jake over the rim of the glass. “What other guy?”

“Listen, do you still talk to Violet, or not?” If so, Jake was starting to think the man was as dumb as a stump. “She told me she’s getting married, and I want to know the man’s name.”

Richard’s face became even more blank, if possible, then lit up a minute later like the scoreboard at Fenway Park. “She must have meant
me
! I’m always asking her to marry me, and she hasn’t said yes yet, but …”

“Are you telling me you’re not sure?” Jake gripped his fork in his fist.

“I know for a fact she isn’t seeing anyone else.”

“Do you really know anything about Violet
for a fact
?” Jake slammed the fork down on the table. This clown was going to raise his child?

Richard leaned across the table. “I will tell you just once, Macintyre. I never want to hear you say anything like that again. I’ve known Violet for five years, and loved her all of them. You spent one night with her. Do you know her favorite food, or favorite color? Did you know she’s deathly afraid of spiders, and loves hockey?
You’re
the one who doesn’t know anything about her.”

It was the same thing Violet had said to him, when he was about to smash her brother’s face in. Well, he would have to educate himself. He removed some bills from his wallet and tossed them on the table. “That’s going to change. She and I have a child to raise — together.”

• • •

Violet wanted everything to be perfect when Jake arrived on Saturday. This time she’d be dressed, which would be a big improvement right there. Daisy would show off her new tricks, bubble-blowing or the laugh that came straight from her round belly, and the townhouse would shine like a spread in a decorating magazine. Jake would see she was an excellent mother, and realize it would be foolish to try for custody. Just in case that thought was on his mind.

What she hadn’t counted on was how difficult it would be to pull off this stunt without Carrie there. She usually welcomed having the baby to herself on the weekend, and was still uncomfortable sharing her home with a near-stranger. Although she’d had years of experience at getting people to open up to her, Carrie remained uncommunicative on every subject except Daisy. Even so, by Sunday night Violet was always so worn out from taking care of the baby by herself that she welcomed the nanny back as though Mary Poppins herself had come to rescue them.

An hour before Jake was due to arrive, at ten o’clock Saturday morning, the situation was already veering out of control. Daisy had refused to nurse on her usual schedule, and was napping when she should have been awake. Violet’s bedroom was strewn with clothes she’d abandoned in her search for the just-right outfit. It shouldn’t be too matronly or too sexy, and it had to fit over her enlarged breasts without calling attention to them.

She finally settled on a summer outfit from last year, capri pants that fit if she left them unbuttoned and a sleeveless cotton blouse in shades of blue and green that complemented her eyes. After pulling her hair back and stroking on some mascara, she was satisfied with the end result. Not glamorous, with her round Irish face, and still carrying a few extra pounds, but good enough for Jake Macintyre, whom she was
not
trying to impress.

Checking her watch, she saw there was just enough time to run down and pick up the baby-clutter in the living room and start a fresh pot of coffee.

Then Daisy began to wail. Amplified by the monitor in Violet’s room, it was a horrific sound. She had recently begun to make cooing and babbling sounds when she woke up instead of crying immediately, so the insistent shrieks unnerved Violet. Ever since the night of her going-away party in Wickham, nothing in her life had gone according to plan. Today wasn’t going to be an exception.

She ran into the nursery and snatched the baby from her crib. “Daisy, please don’t cry. You’re about to meet your … somebody important, and we want him to think you’re a happy baby.”

Her words only made Daisy cry harder, so she dropped into the glider to nurse her. She could already feel the pressure of her milk letting down.

Then the doorbell rang.

The word she blurted out was the one she’d banished from her vocabulary when Daisy was born. She stopped crying and stared at her.

“Sure,
that
you pay attention to.”

She sped down the stairs, hoping to at least greet Jake before Daisy started crying again.

Peeking first through the peephole this time, she saw him bouncing on his heels and grinning like a boy on his first date. He ran his hand through his short curls. Was he preening for her or for Daisy? Not that it mattered. Neither of them cared.

His gaze locked on the baby in her arms as soon as she answered the door.

“Oh, Violet, she’s beautiful!”

At the sound of his voice, Daisy’s lips puckered, followed two seconds later by a resumption of the ear-splitting wails.

Jake stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Is something wrong with her? Is there anything I can do?”

“She’s just hungry.” Violet hoped that was true, but she was still pretty new to the motherhood thing and wouldn’t swear to it. She led him into the living room, where she snatched up baby clothes and diapers from the couch with her free hand. “Have a seat. I’m going to have to feed her.”

She tossed the clothes into a corner — so much for the pristine house — and sat in the rocker across from him. When Daisy began to root against her shirt in search of the nipple, they both immediately understood her dilemma. Glancing down, Violet saw two large wet spots on the front of her blouse.

“Would you like me to … wait somewhere else?” he asked her, examining his hands.

“Yes. No. I mean, I was going to make coffee, but Daisy didn’t sleep when she was supposed to … I really just need to go upstairs for a blanket.”
And a different shirt
. How had she not grasped the difficulty buttons would present?

He stood up and she followed suit, bouncing Daisy to try to quiet her. “I can make coffee. Just direct me to the kitchen and show me where you keep it. Then you can go upstairs and feed Daisy in private. I’m sure this must be upsetting for her.”

Violet almost laughed. Did he think the baby knew who he was and that he had come to disrupt their peaceful life together? Then she realized that it was upsetting for
her
— the thought itself had made her heart rate speed up — and she was surely transmitting that unease to Daisy.

She walked toward the front entry and the stairs, and pointed him toward the kitchen at the back of the townhouse.

“You’ll find everything you need in the cabinet above the coffeemaker, and there’s a box of pastries on the counter.” The pastries she’d run out for that morning, disrupting the baby’s schedule and creating the chaos that had led to this uncomfortable moment. She was about to add
make yourself at home
, but stopped herself when she remembered that was the last thing she wanted him to do. “I’ll be down in fifteen or twenty minutes.”

“Please don’t rush on my account. I know that wouldn’t be good for Daisy.” His smile was wide, as though it pleased him to say her name.

As she settled herself and Daisy in the glider up in the nursery, Violet wondered just how much Jake knew about what was and wasn’t good for babies, and how he knew it. When she’d discovered she was pregnant, she’d used every connection she had to get the scoop on Jake. She hadn’t learned much. He traveled the world taking photographs for his successful series of books, and apparently traveled light — she’d found no evidence of children or other relationships, other than his brother and uncle. They might share a child, but he was still the mysterious — and attractive, she had to admit — stranger he’d been the night of her going-away party.

Daisy settled into a strong sucking rhythm and gazed up at her with those tiger-yellow eyes. “Like it or not,” she said to the baby, “I think we’re going to get to know Jake Macintyre a lot better.”

• • •

Thirty minutes later she followed the intoxicating scent of fresh-brewed coffee to the kitchen. She was dressed in a more practical pullover shirt and carrying a much calmer baby. Jake was sitting at the table working on the
Boston Globe
crossword puzzle, a mug of coffee in front of him.

He jumped up when he saw her. “I hope you don’t mind?” he asked, gesturing toward the paper. The puzzled was almost completely filled in. In ink.

She laughed. “I don’t have time to read it these days, much less do the crossword.” If she didn’t work for a news station, she’d be a completely ignorant about current events.

“How do you like your coffee?” He was already pouring her a steaming mug.

“Cream and sugar, please.”

A minute later he placed her cup on the table, along with the pastries. It surprised her that he’d gone to the trouble to locate a pretty serving plate.

“Just a suggestion, and you’re free to say no if you’re not ready, but maybe I could hold the baby? You’re probably tired of doing everything one-handed.”

He shifted his gaze from her eyes to the baby’s, and Violet could feel Daisy kicking against her and waving her arms. The tiny traitor smiled at Jake, who was grinning back. His hands were clasped together, as though to stop himself from reaching out before Violet gave the okay.

Feeling like she was four years old again and being forced to share her favorite toy, she nodded her head, blinking back tears. Her arms were empty so fast it seemed like Daisy had jumped into Jake’s arms. Into her
father’s
arms.

Violet dropped into the chair Jake had pulled out for her and took a big sip of coffee, burning her mouth. “Too hot.” She pretended that was the reason her eyes were watering.

Jake paid no attention, and neither did Daisy, for that matter. He was sitting and holding her in the crook of his arm, telling her what a beautiful girl she was, getting immodest smiles and happy gurgles in return. He appeared totally comfortable with a baby in his arms. Much more comfortable, in fact, than Violet had been the first time she held her. Once again she was reminded of how little she knew about this man.

“You’ve had some experience with babies.”

He tore his gaze away from Daisy and turned it back to Violet. “The family I stayed with in South Africa had twins, and I gave the mother a helping hand whenever I could.” He flipped the baby onto his shoulder. “I think she’s ready to be burped.”

Violet remembered what Seth had said about Jake running the first time the baby spit up on him, but it was obvious it would take more than that to get rid of this man. Taking pity on him, she got up and grabbed the dish towel, and placed it under Daisy’s nestled head.

“Thanks.” He turned his head and smiled at her, and she realized her hand had lingered a moment too long, until she was aware of the heat of his skin beneath the soft cotton of his shirt. She immediately moved her hand to Daisy’s head, and caressed her silky hair.

“What a beautiful shirt. Something you got on your travels?” She returned to her chair and sipped her coffee, which had cooled.