Expectant Father (17 page)

Instead of cleaning up, Spider made for the mess area. It was late for dinner, but Becca was usually one of the last to eat.

Sure enough, he spotted her golden braid at the far end of the dining area. She was sitting with an old firefighter…

Correction. She was sitting with his father.

Spider’s strides came quicker, almost a run. He had to dodge through people—couldn’t they see he was in a hurry?—but they just weren’t getting out of his way. He’d thought a lot about his old man these past few days, about his ability to forgive and trust. But what had his father done to earn any of that?

“What are you doing here?” Spider demanded when he reached their table, immediately suspicious of his father’s motives.

Becca looked up at him with a frown. “We’re eating.”

“Not you.” He tossed his head in Roadhouse’s direction. “Him.”

“I was just leaving,” Roadhouse said, gathering his things.

“Good. Don’t let me see you around her again,” Spider warned. He had no idea what his father was up to, but he’d bet it was no good. Roadhouse had recommended he have sex with Becca, instead of telling her his feelings, for cripes sake. What kind of fatherly advice was that?

“Roadhouse, you don’t have to go,” Becca said, glaring at Spider.

“Yes, he does.” Spider straddled the picnic bench next to Becca and sat, dumping his backpack on the ground.

“He does not.”

“He’s already gone,” Spider pointed out, taking a carrot stick from her plate, but his hunger had disappeared, and his hands were filthy. He tossed the carrot under the picnic bench for the squirrel. “What did he want?”

She looked toward Roadhouse’s retreating back.

“Did he…did he tell you—”

“That he’s your father?” She turned to him then, her eyes full of compassion, but he wasn’t certain who the emotion was directed to—himself or his dad. “Yes.”

Spider swore and took a deep breath. “Hardly anybody knows that. I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

“Why?”

Because he’d manipulate the situation, get Spider to care again and then disappear, leaving Spider with an empty spot in his heart he’d have no hope of filling. The realization had Spider slumping on the bench.

“Don’t believe a word he said,” Spider managed to say. “He’s never been reliable, and he sure as hell was never the dad I needed him to be.” He ignored the fact that his old man had been trying really hard this past fire season to be something in Spider’s life—father or friend, he didn’t know which.

Becca stood, her belly nearly in his face since he still sat on the bench. “So, I guess I should just forget the fact that he talked about you like he loved you and had been proud of you since the day you were born.”

“He what?” No way had his dad bragged about him. But Spider didn’t have time to figure out what Roadhouse had been up to because Becca was leaving.

“There you are, Becca,” Victoria said, coming up behind
him. “I was hoping to have dinner with you, but I guess it’s too late for that. Who did you have dinner with? I thought I saw you with
that guy,
” Victoria said, dropping her voice. “But I knew that couldn’t be right.”

“In fact, I did have dinner with him. His name is
Roadhouse.
” Pausing, Becca stared pointedly at Spider, as if she were waiting for him clarify to Victoria that Roadhouse was his father. When he kept quiet, she added, “He’s very sweet.”

Spider wondered what his father had said to Becca to make her defend him so.

“You can’t be serious.” Victoria was visibly upset. “He’s so out there.”

“He’s not really. He’s just lonely.” Another meaningful look Spider’s way from Becca, another pause.

He was getting the distinct feeling that she was disappointed with him. Hell, she was delivering her feelings as if she were holding up a sign that said Spider Needs to Give His Dad a Chance. Spider had a news flash for Becca. He was fresh out of chances when it came to his father.

“I have to go.” Becca turned and walked away in that funny pregnant walk of hers that usually made him want to smile when he wasn’t wanting to yell at her. At the moment, he didn’t want to do either. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and have her tell him not to worry about a thing—not the baby, not them, not the fire, not his father.

Victoria watched Becca walk away, too. “You may as well give up on Becca. Your Peter Pan ways are all wrong for her.”

“Someday, my Peter Pan ways are going to save your ass. Again,” Spider snapped back, irritated that Victoria thought she knew Becca well enough to know what was good for her—and that he wasn’t it.

R
OADHOUSE TRIED NOT TO DWELL
on Aiden’s anger, tried not to be hurt by his continued determination to shut him out of his life. But it did hurt and he couldn’t seem to get past it.

Without really thinking about it, he found an empty pad of paper in his hands and a chewed-on ballpoint pen. He started writing,
Dear Aiden…

Twenty minutes later he heard his superintendent calling his team together for the nightly briefing. Jack-Ass was all about appearances. Every private crew member needed to appear interested and involved in fighting the fire. Sucking up to the Incident Command team was one way not to get sent home early. Knowing what you were doing and doing it well was another.

Roadhouse folded the letter and stuck it into a plain white envelope, then into his Ziploc bag of letters. He then tucked the whole thing into an outside pocket of his backpack as he jogged as quickly as his stiff legs would allow through the sleeping tents toward the Incident Command tent, dodging other fire-crew members, not even noticing when the bag of envelopes fell out of his pack.

“I
DON’T UNDERSTAND
why you’d talk to that guy.” Victoria was waiting for Becca by the Fire Behavior tent after her pre-briefing. “You saw how crazy he was.”

“I did see him that day,” Becca said, moving to stand in the shade. “He wasn’t acting crazy. He might have been tired and just happened to be looking in your direction when he vegged out.”

Victoria vehemently shook her head. “He’s been on other fires with us lately. He stares. No one else stares like he does.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Becca liked Roadhouse. She’d
only seen him act odd that one day. And the fact that he was her baby’s grandfather and trying to find a way back into Aiden’s life ensured Roadhouse the benefit of the doubt, and a soft spot in her heart.

“He’s like a stalker or something. I’m afraid for you. Say you’re not going to see him again. Please.”

“I can’t do that.” In the same way she couldn’t refuse Aiden some form of contact with their baby, she didn’t have the heart to shut out Roadhouse, not when he was so clearly excited about Aiden becoming a father. Becca’s hand stroked over her belly.

“Be careful.” Victoria gave up trying to convince her.

Becca watched Victoria walk away through the crowd, left with an unwelcome seed of doubt. Roadhouse was not a danger to her. She was sure of it. Becca turned to resume her walk to her tent and her path intersected with Aiden’s as he barreled around a corner.

“Hey.” He steadied her arms, but her heart was anything but steady at his touch. “I’m glad I caught you. I want to explain.”

“Explain what?” Trying not to be obvious as she made sure no one was looking at them, Becca shrugged out of his hold.

“About Roadhouse.” He looked pained.

“You don’t need to explain anything.”
But try,
her heart silently and irrationally begged.

“Maybe not.” He shifted his stance, as if uncomfortable, not looking at her. “But I do need to apologize for what I said earlier and I thought you might like to go into town for an ice cream.”

Ice cream.
The smooth, cool treat was her idea of heaven. She wanted to, more than anything, but she had the evening briefing to give. “I can’t.”

“Maybe you’d like to think about it first.” Aiden’s smile was strained. “I asked Logan to cover for me.”

“I bet you’d rather have a beer. Why don’t you go into town and get a beer with your friends?”

“No.” He washed a hand over his face, looking worn out. “As long as the ice-cream parlor is air conditioned and what I’m putting in my mouth is cold and refreshing, I don’t care if it’s beer, ice cream or pickles. You said it was going to cool off, but it’s still hot.”

Air conditioned.
Becca almost fainted with longing. It had been weeks since she’d been anywhere climate controlled. Sure, it cooled off every night and became chilly, but with the fire closer, the air was hot and dry, and Becca’s underthings were damp with sweat.

As if reading her mind, Aiden continued to taunt her. “Someone gave me directions to this ice-cream parlor. Apparently, it’s as cold as an igloo inside.” He flashed her a scrap of paper with scribbled lines. “Since my crew all came on one bus, I don’t have any wheels. You’d be doing me a huge favor by driving me in your vehicle.”

“That’s a great idea, Becca,” Sirus said as he walked by. “You need to get away. I’ll have Julia give the evening briefing.”

Becca’s mouth fell open. Julia had been on her best behavior since her public humiliation, and Sirus was giving her a chance to take responsibility. The hope Becca had buried days ago for the Boise job peeked out in the form of a smile.

“See?” Aiden grinned. “You have permission. Besides, I hear we’re actually going to make an attempt at the western line tomorrow, a whole day early. It’s my last chance at air-conditioning and ice cream for awhile.”

She shouldn’t go, even if Sirus said it was okay. She should just hunt up the keys to her SUV and give them to him. But
Aiden was smiling at her and, irrationally, she’d missed him today. In the end, that and the promised treat of air-conditioning and ice cream was too much to turn down.

“B
ESIDES YOUR BROTHER, DID
anyone else in your family go into fire?” Spider asked as he drove Becca out of camp with the air conditioner blasting. He’d insisted upon driving her old white Toyota Forerunner since she looked so tired and, surprisingly, she’d handed the keys over without much fuss.

Ecstatic just to be with Becca, he searched for something to talk about as he drove. Everyone liked to talk about their families, right?

“No.”

Spider scanned the two-lane highway for traffic before he pulled out. Not that he needed to. At this late time of day with the sun beginning to fade, a car was rare this high up in the mountains.

Think of something to say, stupid.

He was never at a loss for words. And yet, they passed several miles of pine forest in silence. He couldn’t even look at Becca for fear she’d realize how lacking he was in conversation skills. She had to think he was one conversationally challenged idiot. Correction. She’d label him a predictable, conversationally challenged idiot.

Think, think, think.

What had they talked about that night in Vegas? The merits of bottled versus tapped beer. The amount of money he’d
lost gambling. Neither of which seemed like topics the Becca he knew today would be interested in. Or a good segue into what he really wanted to talk to her about—his love for her.

“Baseball,” he blurted out suddenly. The word sent her limbs flying.

Criminy. She’d been asleep. She gazed over at him with sleepy eyes and just a tiny bit of drool on the corner of her mouth. She wiped it off self-consciously and settled deeper into the seat.

“You like the… Giants.” Spider should have risked looking at her. Then he would have known she’d been asleep.

“The As,” she murmured in a sleepy voice, barely audible above the SUV’s engine. She’d been pushing herself too hard.

He slowed the truck and kept silent the rest of the way, letting Becca rest. Without conversation, his own eyes felt heavy from lack of sleep. Luckily, he’d reached a place where he had to pay attention and look for street signs to get them to the ice-cream place. The challenge kept him alert.

When he pulled in front of the Waltzing Bear Ice Cream Parlor a few minutes later, he put her SUV in park and let the air conditioner continue to blast them, taking advantage of Becca silent and approachable in sleep to study her.

It was hard to believe that his child grew in her belly. The need to place his hand over the baby was strong, but he didn’t want to wake her just yet. The drive had only taken thirty minutes. That hardly seemed enough time to restore Becca’s energy. He looked at his watch, calculating the amount of time it might take to eat an ice cream and drive back, calculating the hours of sleep that he’d be able to get when he collapsed in his sleeping bag later.

He’d felt especially rested when he’d slept with Becca in
Vegas. Perhaps that was because he knew on some level that he loved her.

He snorted. Yeah, and pigs could fly.

Still, it’d be nice to feel that way again—safe, loved, rested as she held him in her arms.

Only one thing stood in the way of him having that feeling again. Becca had no idea that he loved her. He was going to change that. He had momentum. She was here with him now, wasn’t she? Sure, she was sleeping. And Spider had to admit he was a bit jealous of her sleeping. Once she was awake and he got the conversation rolling, she’d realize that taking a chance on him in Vegas was the best bet she’d ever made.

He blew out a heavy sigh, and her eyes flickered open.

And then she was straightening. “Tell me I didn’t fall asleep.”

He’d tell her almost anything she wanted to hear if she’d just let him into her life. “You didn’t—”

She cried out and bucked against the seat belt. “Ow-ow-ow-ow!” Her foot was thrashing against the floor board.

“What’s wrong? Is it the baby? Let’s get you to the hospital.” He jammed his foot on the brake and put the SUV in reverse.

Becca threw a hand on his shoulder, her leg still spasming. “No, I’m all right.”

The tears in her eyes wouldn’t let Spider believe her.

“It’s just a leg cramp,” she gasped out the words.

“A leg cramp?” He didn’t want to say it, but he thought it anyway—if she was that sensitive to a leg cramp, how in the heck was she going to handle labor? She needed him more than she realized.

“Is this the place? I need to get out.” Becca climbed gingerly out of the cab before Spider could put it back in park and help her down. She limped up onto the porch.

Cold air wrapped around Spider as he followed her inside. The ice-cream parlor was small, with a couple of wood booths lining each wall and a round, plastic, kid-sized picnic table in the center of the place. Eighties rock music was piped in through little speakers in the ceiling. There was only one other couple inside—teenagers—huddled against each other as if they were freezing. More than likely, they were burning up, what with their hands all over each other.

The teenager behind the counter waited for them expectantly, his green apron embroidered with a smiling bear wearing lederhosen.

“Banana split. Banana smoothy. Banana milk shake,” Becca mumbled under her breath, as she looked at the menu.

“Do you like bananas?” he asked.

“The potassium in bananas is supposed to prevent leg cramps.”

Feeling his calves cramping up, Spider said, “I’ll have a banana shake.”

The teenager looked at Becca expectantly.

“Oh, we’re not together,” Becca said. “Go ahead and ring his up.”

“My treat,” Spider said through gritted teeth. She was the most difficult woman. “Give her a banana split with extra bananas. And we’ll both need a water before our order.”

When Becca opened her mouth to argue, Spider held up his hand. “This was my idea.”

“But—”

“I have more to give than my
sperm.
” He cut her off, irritated that she couldn’t even accept an ice cream from him, irritated further when the teenage couple looked up from their public grope session at his comment.

“Really?” Becca crossed her arms over her chest, which
looked a bit awkward considering her arms rested on her belly. “Like what?”

He took the ice waters and led Becca to a booth near the front door. As they seated themselves, Spider chose his words carefully.

“A shoulder to lean on, an ear to vent to, plus I’m full of advice, that’s what. Drink your water.” Dehydration was a problem for everyone on a fire, not just firefighters. In this heat, a pregnant woman could lose a lot of fluids.

Scowling, Becca took the water and drank deeply. So did he. Half their glasses were gone before either spoke again.

Spider shook his drink, making his ice rattle. “I’m pretty good at teaching things, like how to swing a baseball bat.”

“I’m having a girl.”

Somehow, Spider had always visualized having a boy. He studied her face for a minute, before saying, “You’re bluffing.”

“I could be having a girl,” she conceded with a sideways smile.

He held up the keys to her truck, dangling the key chain in front of his face—a blue baby rattle. “Either way, they’d need to learn how to swing a baseball bat.”

“It was the only color they had.” Becca smiled as she explained her key chain choice, then shook her head. “That’s not the kind of advice I need.”

“Okay, so maybe you know about baseball. What about my other talents? I make great tamales, I can change a tire pretty quick, and I can dig a mean hole in the ground when it’s time to plant flowers in the yard. I could go on.” He could offer her everything he had to give.

She laughed. “You sound like you’re applying for a housekeeping job.”

“Maybe a roommate.” When she quit laughing, he held up a hand. “Just thinking of you and all those late-night feedings.”

“I’m going to breast-feed,” she deadpanned, but her blush indicated she wasn’t as cool as she tried to appear.

Trying not to grind his teeth, Spider took another drink of water, watching Becca, judging what he should try next. She looked so tired and he really wanted to make things easier for her, although how he expected to give her advice on raising kids when he knew nothing was beyond him. He knew about fires and keeping a team together. Of course!

“How was IC today? Julia give you any trouble? I could pick a fight with her if she keeps giving you grief,” Spider joked.

“She’s fine. No need to bring in your muscle to keep her in line.” Becca relaxed back into the booth and smoothed her T-shirt over her belly. “It’s the strangest thing. I really lost my temper before, and she became this model employee.”

“So you told her off, did you? I wish I would have seen that.” He smiled at her, proud that she’d finally drawn the line with Julia.

She took another drink of water, looking at him over the rim of her glass. “I don’t think it was the telling off that did it as much as my explaining that I didn’t want to work with Sirus permanently. Apparently, she thought we were competing for the same job.”

“When will you hear about this new job? I’m starting to want to spread my news. I’d like you to meet my friends, too.”

“Why do you want me to meet your friends? Don’t you think they’ll look at me and accuse me of robbing the cradle?” Becca eyed him warily. “Don’t you care what other people think?”

“Hell, no. You think my friends are going to say I knocked up some old lady?” Spider couldn’t look at Becca, because
essentially, his friends had noticed their age difference. “Give yourself and them some credit. You’ve still got all your teeth. And my friends would accept you as the warm, intelligent woman that you are.” That, at least, he was sure of.

Her cheeks were bright pink and she wouldn’t look anywhere but at her hands, which were busy winding a paper straw wrapper around her forefinger, the straw discarded on the table. “You’re talking about us as if we’re a couple.”

Spider was wondering when she’d notice. “What if I am? No one cares that there’s a difference in our ages but you. I’m old enough to be the father of that child and your partner in life. That’s all that matters to me.” His voice carried through the ice-cream parlor.

The make-out teenagers grinned and gave him two thumbs up.

“You should care.” Becca tore the straw wrapper in bits and tossed the shreds on the table. “People talk and stare, and opportunities are lost if you don’t conform.”

“Conform?” He tossed his hands in exasperation. “I’m the man who ran down the hill in his boxers, remember? And if I didn’t think you’d hold it against me, I have plenty of other things in my past that would prove explicitly that I don’t give a damn what other people think. It hasn’t held me back in the slightest.”

Becca almost started to smile, then she shifted on the bench and looked away. “We’re in different places,” she began.

“If you try to tell me I don’t understand, you’re just going to tick me off.” He was already getting really frustrated. Much more of this and his dial would click over to red-hot irritation. “It’s all in the way you carry it off. I tend to shrug and pretend I don’t give a shit.”

Becca shook her head. “You like to be in someone’s face. You like to take risks. It’s easy for you.”

“You don’t think making the decision to have that baby was a risk?” Spider reached across the table and covered her hand with his when her eyes widened in apparent surprise. “Confronting the IC team, bringing Julia in line. Hell, even giving her a second chance when she doesn’t deserve it. It all tells me that you’re more courageous than you think.”

She appraised him in silence, clearly considering his words, before sighing and changing the subject with a weak smile. “Is it a good thing to say I believe you’ve made a fool of yourself repeatedly?”

“As long as we leave it at that.” Spider laughed at himself, then sobered. He had an objective here. “Have you ever thought people were talking and staring at you because of your beauty? You’re a beautiful woman, pregnant or not. And you’ll be a beauty twenty years from now.”

She blushed, realized he still covered her hand with his, and pulled away. “There you go being nice again.”

“I like talking to you. I like being able to tell you things. I’ve been able to tell you things from the moment we met that I’ve never told others. Why can’t you give us a chance?”

She took a sip of her water, looking at him over the rim. “Since you mentioned chances and risks, why won’t you give your dad one?”

Aiden lowered his voice. “Whoa, my dad is off-limits. You have no idea what he’s done…or what he hasn’t done in the past.”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“Bananas up!” The teenager called.

Grateful for the distraction, Spider went to get their ice cream.

“I don’t know what to say about my dad,” Spider said when he sat down. “There are a lot of things that I won’t say.”
How he’d been jealous of the other boys in Little League whose dads helped out at practice and sat in the bleachers at games. How he’d floundered through dating without anyone to talk to about girls, expectations and sex.

Becca gathered a bit of banana in her spoon, dipped it into whipped cream and fudge sauce, then slid it in her mouth, leaving a trail of chocolate on her lips. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re comfortable saying?”

Aiden was only barely able to keep from running his finger over her chocolate-coated lips. “So you can use it against me at a later date?” He stirred his shake with his straw, avoiding her probing gaze, refusing to take the bait.

“Forget I asked. You’re right. It’s none of my business.” She concentrated on her treat.

She was ignoring him, leaving Spider strangely bereft. Maybe he could tell her some small bit of the truth about his father that wouldn’t make him look too pathetic. Spider sucked on his milk shake and watched her eat her banana split, wondering what he was willing to tell her.

“My dad was pretty much a no show by the time I was five. He sent money every once in awhile, but my grandmother and I were on our own. And I knew it.” Spider drew a deep breath. “He didn’t care then. He doesn’t care now.”

“But he’s come back into your life.” Becca’s blue eyes were searching for truths Spider had no intention of revealing.