Secrets Gone South (Crimson Romance) (19 page)

Tonight she was at book club and he was meeting up with Brantley, Harris, Nathan, Luke, and the kids. This was how things were supposed to go.

He opened the diner door and ran right into Erie Snow. That was
not
how things were supposed to go. Erie was Aspen’s cousin. Those poor girls. The family had gotten carried away with their last name and there was a whole generation of Snow offspring named after snowy cities. There was a Lansing, a Denver, a Boston, and—what was the other one? Anchorage? Flint? Hard to remember all of Aspen’s pillow talk. She had talked a lot.

But Erie had never done anything to him. It wasn’t her fault Aspen was delusional.

“Hello, Erie,” he said. “How are you?”

“Good.” She nodded. “I hear you got married.” She turned her eyes to Avery, who turned shy and buried his face in Will’s neck. A warm feeling went through him. He loved being Avery’s refuge. He smiled and patted his back. Erie pointed. “Is this your new little stepson?”

Stepson.
He hated that. It would be fine if it was true, but it was a lie.

“Well, not for long.”

Erie’s eyes went wide. “You’re getting a divorce already?”

“Oh, no. No. I’m adopting Avery. So before long he’ll be my legal son.” Not to mention biological. It irked him that he had to adopt his own child, but it seemed the easiest way for them to all have the same last name. “We’re seeing an attorney in a couple of weeks.” Tolly had assured them it would be a painless process but Will knew different. It was already causing him pain.

“I talked to Aspen last week,” Erie said.

“Oh?”

Avery squirmed in his arms. “Daddy! Coat off!”

“Okay, pal. Just a second.” He set him on his feet and proceeded to unzip his coat. Erie was still looking at him.

“You seem to have settled right in. He’s already calling you Daddy.”

Because that’s who I am!
he wanted to scream. “I hope Aspen’s doing okay.” It seemed the polite thing to say and he had no desire to discuss Avery with any relative of Aspen’s.

“She’s good.”

“Hey, Will!” came Brantley’s voice from the back of the diner. “Back here! Come on. We’ve got hungry kids about to go into meltdown mode!”

Relieved, Will picked up Avery. “Come to think of it, I’ve got a hungry boy, too,” he said to Erie, though Avery had shown no signs of having a meltdown. “See you, Erie.”

And he made his escape.

“We need to talk about this Super Bowl party,” Arabelle said to Will the morning after book club. She had intended to take this up with him last night when she got home but he and Avery were both asleep when she got home. But time was getting short. Today was Friday and the Super Bowl was Sunday night.

“What do we need to talk about?” Will poured her a cup of coffee. She had to admit it was kind of nice to wake up to a cooked breakfast and a bathed and dressed Avery, even if his clothes didn’t always match.

“Well, food for one thing. Childcare for another. Missy always hires a teenager to watch the kids when she has a party.”

Will frowned. “Why can’t we watch them?”

“Do you want to actually watch the game?”

He shrugged and sat down. “I don’t really care.”

“Well, others do. Have you forgotten Nathan Scott is a football coach and Missy’s cousin is actually playing in this thing? You’re going to have to pretend to care, even if you don’t.”

“Okay. I can do that and watch Avery, too.”

“Maybe. Are you going to watch Beau, Lulu, Emma, and John Luke too? That’s three sets of diapers.”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” Will said. “I think Avery is smart enough to start toilet training.” Avery was quietly feeding himself pieces of frozen waffle and orange sections. He chose that moment to stuff a piece of waffle in his ear.

“Oh, clearly,” Arabelle said, extracting the waffle from his ear. “That little move demonstrated intellectual prowess unlike any I have ever seen. Very advanced is our boy.”
Our boy.
The feeling that turned inside of her when she said that scared her. Best back to the matter at hand. “Boys are almost never ready to even start toilet training before two. Though it might not be a bad idea if you started taking him to the bathroom with you so he can watch you.”

Will’s eyes went wide. “That sounds creepy.”

Oh, good Lord. “You wanted to be a father. You’re a father. You’re going to have to let him watch you pee so he can get the idea how it’s done. It’s not all trucks and contraband chocolate milk, you know.” She took a bite of her scrambled eggs.

Will grimaced. “What about that crib? I think he’s too old for it.”

“No.” This wasn’t the first time he’d brought this up. He was dying to make Avery a toddler bed that looked like a pickup truck with the mattress in the bed. “You can start making that bed but he’s not ready for it yet. The crib is the safest place for him until he starts showing an inclination to climb out.”

“It could happen any time. He could fall on his head tonight.”

“He could,” she agreed. “But usually kids try to climb out before they can actually make it over the side. We’ll know in advance. For sure, if we put him in a toddler bed, he’ll be able to get up and wander around. I’ve been teaching him to scoot down the stairs on his bottom but he could fall.” She almost felt sorry for Will when she saw the panic on his face. She’d gone through that stage herself. “Anyway, you’ve gotten us off track. The party. Childcare. I’ll call Missy and get one of those teenagers she uses to come. Maybe two.”

“I don’t really like that idea,” Will said.

“Why not? Missy won’t recommend someone who isn’t responsible. Besides, we’ll be right here. We can set up one of the empty bedrooms upstairs with some toys and a television and some movies.”

“It’s not that.” Will tore his toast into tiny pieces and let them drop back onto his plate. He opened and closed his mouth several times like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to speak. Then he did: “I don’t really like having a lot of people that I don’t know out here. It took a bit for me to invite who I invited.” He met her eyes. “You know. This is just for us out here. I don’t like … ” He looked at the ceiling. “See. Some people are negative. They bring that with them. Once you let that in … Well, once the balance of your home is compromised, it might never be the same again.”

It was all she could do to keep from rolling her eyes at him. “You should have thought about that before you planned a party. I’ll tell you what will upset the balance of your home in a hurry—two kindergartners and three toddlers running amok while their parents are trying to watch a ballgame.”

He nodded but looked a little sullen. “Okay. Go ahead. But if I get any hint of negativity—”

“Oh, you
will
. This is going to be a teenager. Get ready. And eventually, Avery is going to be a teenager.”

That put a smile on his face. “And he’s going to grow up right in this house, negative or not. Aren’t you, pal?” Will smoothed his hair.

Yes. Right here in this house. She wondered if she and Will would still be sleeping in the same bed and clinging to the edges then.

“I like you, Daddy!”

“I like you, too. What’s your name again?”

“Jiffy!”

“Jiffy?” Will feigned surprise. “Where’s that boy named Avery?”

Avery laughed like the funniest thing in the world had just happened. Okay, very cute but the Super Bowl was coming and she had to be the bad guy.

“Okay,” she said. “Have you thought about food?”

“Food?” Will tore his eyes away from Avery. “For dinner tonight?”

Give me strength!
“No, Will. For Sunday night. You have invited eight adults and four children to this house to watch a ballgame. They are going to expect food. And liquor.”

His face went blank. “I can make good salsa and hummus.”

“You can. But we need a meal. Ballgame food, like pizza or barbecue.”

He sighed. “Okay. I can make pizza. I guess I can. Do you use yeast to make the crust?”

Hopeless. “I don’t suppose you would ever agree to have some evil pizza delivery person invade your sanctuary here, would you?”

“No,” he said. “But that gives me an idea. We can get barbecue. I won’t eat it, but that’s fine. I’ll go buy barbecue late Sunday afternoon so it’ll still be warm.”

“You and half of Merritt. You’d better call and order it in advance.” She took pity on him then, though she shouldn’t have. “You make your salsa and hummus, pick up some beer, and take care of the barbecue. I’ll get some other snacks together, some frozen pizzas for the kids, and some nonalcoholic drinks. Maybe I’ll make some cookies.”

“Hey!” He brightened up. “How about a cake? I can order one shaped like a football from the Bake Shop. I’ll go into town this morning and go by Depot Barbecue and the Bake Shop. Then I’ll leave Avery at Heavenly Confections.”

• • •

In spite of having to get up at three o’clock this morning and take a walk to keep him from jumping Arabelle’s bones, Will thought things were going pretty well. It had taken a lot for him to invite all those people over for the Super Bowl but he was doing okay with it. Arabelle had not been thrilled and he could see where he needed to check with her next time but she seemed to be willing to help him anyway.

He had just ordered enough barbecue to feed an army, plus chips, potato salad, slaw, beans, and bread. He parked in front of the Bake Shop and looked at Avery in the mirror.

“Want to go in the bakery? We’re going to order a cake.”

“Chocolate milk?”

“No, you don’t. You’ve already gotten me in trouble about that once.” He got out and liberated Avery from the car seat.

“Avery down!” Will considered putting him in the stroller but that would probably take more time than it would to order a cake. For sure, it was more trouble. “Avery walk!”

That was happening more and more. How long before he wouldn’t want to be carried at all? When would the day come when he was too big to be picked up? There would be a last time when he picked up his son and there was no way of knowing when that would be. So many missed opportunities, so many lost days. He swallowed the small bit of anger that was still hanging around. It wasn’t productive to be angry. He’d told Arabelle he was past it. And that was mostly true.

He gave Avery an extra squeeze.

“Down, Daddy. Avery walk!”

“Okay,” he set him on his feet. “But you have to hold my hand.”

As soon as they entered the bakery, the owner, Sandy, lit up. “What handsome men I see coming in my door this morning.”

Will smiled. “I hope we can persuade you to make us a cake, though it is kind of last minute. I’d need to pick it up tomorrow.”

“Oh, I think we can manage that.” She reached for her pad. “Birthday?”

“No. Super Bowl party. Think we could get a football?”

“Sure. Or we could do a football field or a helmet. I can even do a helmet up in your team’s colors.”

“That sounds great. The helmet.”

“Who are you rooting for?”

He hadn’t expected that.

Avery pulled away from him and put his hands on the glass bakery case. “Cookie, Daddy!”

“Okay, pal. But first let me talk to Miss Sandy about our cake.” He turned back to the matter at hand. “Rooting for? I admit I don’t know a lot about pro football. It would be the team that Missy Bragg’s cousin plays on.”

“San Antonio.” Sandy nodded. “I’ll fix you up. I’ll even put his number on it.”

“I don’t know his number,” Will admitted.

“I do,” Sandy said. “Eighty-four. Chocolate, white, or yellow cake?”

“I thought you said it would be the team colors.” He’d never known cake ordering was so confusing.

“It will be. The frosting will be tinted. But for the cake inside?”

“Oh. Chocolate, I guess.”

“Good choice. Anything else?”

Did they need anything else? He looked at the bakery case.

“Cookie!” Avery danced up and down.

Arabelle had said something about making cookies. Would she be mad if he ordered cookies or appreciate that he was trying to save her the trouble? Hard to know. Well, he’d err on the side of trying to help and if she got mad, it wasn’t likely to be as mad as she had been.

“Maybe some cookies.”

Sandy nodded. “Decorated cookies or plain?”

This wasn’t supposed to be so hard. “We’ll already have the decorated cake. Maybe ordinary cookies. Not that there’s anything ordinary about anything you make,” he hastened to add. All he needed now was to make Sandy mad and have to tell Arabelle they weren’t having cake, after all.

But Sandy laughed. “I understand. How many? What kind?”

How was he supposed to know that? “Well. They’ll be ten grownups and five kids. And we’ll have the cake. Four dozen? Five?”

Again, Sandy laughed. “Four ought to do you, I think. My cookies are big. What kind?”

Would this never end? What kind did people like? “Can you just do some different kinds? Whatever people usually get.”

“Sure. An assortment.” She made notations on her pad. “I hope I don’t spill this order. I made up a cookie tray this morning for Charles Kincaid for an office meeting and promptly dropped it. Six dozen cookies all over the floor. Luckily, I had enough to pull another tray together.”

“That’s too bad. I hate to see a good cookie go to waste.”

“Butterfingers me.” She looked up. “Is two o’clock tomorrow okay, Will?”

“Yes. That’s great.” He was relieved she didn’t ask him to pick the time.

“Anything else?”

“Avery wants a cookie. Tell you what, give me three. He and his cousins can have them after lunch.”

“What kind?”

Oh, more choices. This was exhausting. “Let me ask him. Sometimes he even knows what I’m talking about and will give me an answer.” He looked to the place where Avery had been standing. Where was he? Well, he couldn’t have gone far. “Avery?”

His eyes scanned the room. He had to be here. The bell over the door had not rung since they’d come in but Avery was too quiet. That usually meant trouble.

“Avery, pal? Where are you?” He bent over and caught sight of him under a table. “There you are!” Relieved, he pulled him out and lifted him into his arms. His cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk getting ready for winter and there was part of a cookie in his hand. Will couldn’t help but laugh. “Looks like you got your own cookie! Was Daddy not fast enough for you?”