The Surprise Holiday Dad (8 page)

That was a startling insight. Wade’s opinion of the man rose a notch.

“Despite my initial reservations, I’m comfortable with the way things are progressing,” Adrienne said. “I don’t believe either of us is afraid to be frank.”

While Wade didn’t want to read too much into the statement, he was glad his attempts at parenting met with her approval. Adrienne’s good opinion meant a lot, both because of her experience with Reggie and because...

Because I like her.
Nothing wrong with that.

The attorney reviewed options regarding custody. Shared custody seemed the most appropriate, when they were ready for that step. Even though, as the boy’s surviving parent, Wade had a good chance of winning sole custody if he went for the jugular, the loser wouldn’t only be Adrienne; it would also be Reggie.

“We could draw up a temporary visitation schedule that allows for frequent ongoing contact with both of you,” Geoff concluded. “Also, I should point out that there’s a potential conflict of interest in having me represent both of you. I recommend hiring your own attorney.”

“I’ll take it under consideration.” If things got messy, Wade wouldn’t hesitate to do that.

Adrienne leaned forward. “I’d like for us to meet again after the first of the year, if that’s okay with Wade. Let’s see how our informal arrangements survive the holidays. By then we might be ready to put things down on paper.”

“Survive the holidays—good way of putting it.” In Wade’s experience, family gatherings brought out the worst in people. They agreed that Wade would collect Reggie that Saturday morning. Then the lawyer escorted them out.

On the sidewalk, a sharp breeze blew beneath the overcast sky. “You in a hurry to get home?” Wade wasn’t quite ready to give up her company yet.

“I have to run an errand for Harper.” Adrienne crossed her arms against the chill. “The wedding’s only a week away and we’re behind.”

Disappointment proved even keener than the cold wind. Couldn’t the two of them have a conversation for once that didn’t center on Reggie? Wade wasn’t sure exactly what he sought, but being around her felt good.

Then an idea came to him. Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, he said, “I’d like to pick your brain about something.”

“What?” She tilted her head.

“Thanksgiving. I promised Dad I’d cook, but I have zero experience.” Before she could suggest he look it up online, he added, “Internet sites often leave out crucial details.”

“Like having to wash and chop ingredients
before
you start cooking,” she said with a smile, and he grinned back. “I’m grateful for all those free sites, but they can be frustrating,” she added, shifting so his body shielded her from the wind.

Wade didn’t mind. He enjoyed protecting her. “You cold?” He reached out to enclose her hands in his and found them icy. “You’re freezing!”

“And you’re amazingly warm.” She moved nearer, the lightly flowered scent of her hair tickling his nose.

When Wade leaned down and inhaled, he heard her breath catch. Only the rumble of a passing truck snapped him back to an awareness that they were standing in full public view. Reluctantly, he drew back.

“I’ll tell you what.” Adrienne shivered. “Let’s meet at Kitchens, Cooks and Linens. That’s where I’m headed, and it’s a great place to discuss fixing Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Great idea.”

She provided an address on a side street near Fact Hunter. “Harper’s been coveting their garden-themed linens and centerpieces, and they just went on sale.”

“See you there.”

She hurried away, crisp white skirt skimming her nicely rounded derriere. Missing their contact already, Wade strode to his car.

Chapter Eight

Adrienne inhaled the scent of cinnamon as she entered the store and selected a rolling cart. One disadvantage of inheriting a furnished house was that she rarely had an excuse to indulge herself at Kitchens, Cooks and Linens. Except for picking up the occasional replacement item, she was confined by both her budget and her packed drawers to gazing longingly at the merchandise.

Shopping, even for someone else, was a treat. She’d volunteered to make the purchases because Harper had to work today and the selection might be depleted by evening.

After considering a Christmas theme for the wedding, Harper had instead chosen autumnal splendor. The colors not only worked well for her dress and bouquet but also tied into the colors of the garden. She’d fallen in love with a high-priced line of coordinated tablecloths, napkins and centerpieces.

The sale officially began tomorrow, but prices had been lowered a day early for subscribers to the store’s mailing list. Because Adrienne had signed up, she’d received advance notice. Now she had two things to look forward to: she was not only shopping for her friend but also advising Wade, which might require additional purchases.

Strolling along an aisle, blissfully drinking in the luxurious sights and scents, she paused to stroke a velvety towel and examine an exquisite set of sheets. If she were getting married, she’d be tempted to denude the entire store.

“You’re buying sheets for them?” The noise of other shoppers and carts had covered his approach.

Adrienne snatched an indulgent look at Wade. What a contrast between his muscular form and the delicate display of flowered duvets behind him. An image of his tanned body rumpling the bedding sneaked past her guard.

Down, girl.

“Actually, I’m dawdling,” she said. “The section I want is over there.”

“You really like this store, don’t you?” Wade regarded her with interest.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re wearing the same blissed-out expression that guys do at a car show.” He studied her appreciatively. “It’s good to see you enjoying something.”

“I enjoy a lot of things.” Now that he mentioned it, though, she didn’t suppose that was true.

He strolled beside her, carrying a basket. “Maybe one of these days you can show me.”

“One of these days.” Adrienne quickened her pace as they neared the target area. To her relief, the tables and bins were nearly full. “Oh, great, these are perfect.” She counted out the right number of cloths for their rented tables and scooped up matching items.

“That’s quite a haul,” Wade observed.

“I love this stuff.” Adrienne had agreed to split the cost with her friend so she could keep some items. “So why did you volunteer to cook if you don’t know how?”

Wade rearranged several items in her cart so they fit better. “I was worried about Dad. If he feels down about the holidays, his alcohol consumption will go up.”

“I see.” Adrienne picked up a set of crystal champagne flutes, admiring the way they sparkled even in the flat store lighting. “Speaking of alcohol, we were planning to use disposable champagne glasses, but these are beautiful. Can I resist?”

Wade laughed. “I’ve never seen anyone get this excited about glassware.”

“Everything in this store turns me on.” Embarrassed, she flicked him a cautious glance, then wished she hadn’t, because the sight of his wry grin and square shoulders made her want to touch him. Firmly, she returned her thoughts to the glasses. “This is a great price. Do you need any? Oh, I didn’t mean to be tactless.”

“What’s tactless about it?” he asked.

“I just meant if...” They’d agreed to be frank. “Do you have a problem with alcohol?”

He didn’t appear offended. “I might be vulnerable under certain conditions. How about you?”

“More than one drink and I get sleepy. Since that’s hardly my idea of fun, it’s easy for me to drink in moderation.” Adrienne was glad she didn’t have to avoid the occasional glass of wine. “What do you mean by
certain conditions?
”

“I used to be able to drink as much as I liked with very little effect,” Wade said. “Then one weekend I woke up in a strange woman’s apartment with no memory of the night before. That scared me. I’ve seen too many mangled drunk drivers and their victims and too many criminals who lost control during a blackout.”

“What did you do about it?” she asked.

“I quit completely. That’s the only way to be certain I never lose control.”

“That’s admirable.” Under pressure, even the most sincere resolve could falter, but Adrienne admired his determination. “Thanks for your honesty.”

“It’s one of my best qualities,” he teased. “Now I have this other problem.”

“What’s that?”

“Thanksgiving,” Wade reminded her. “I’m not sure where to start. For one thing, my father’s kitchenware is strictly basic. He seems to consider more than one knife or pot a wild indulgence. Any idea what I’ll need?”

An old saying came to mind:
When all else fails, read the directions.
“Let’s check out the cookbook section.”

They found shelves blooming with bright-covered cookbooks. After leafing through a few, they chose one that outlined step-by-step how to prepare a feast, including advance planning, a shopping list and recipes. Skimming it whetted Adrienne’s appetite, both for the food itself and for filling the house with delicious scents. “You’ve inspired me to cook at home, too. To be on the safe side, I’d better buy my own copy.”

“There’s only one,” Wade observed.

Scanning the rack confirmed what he’d said. Since he was the novice, she yielded it to him. “I can always order one on the internet.” Besides, she’d already spent too much money today. “On second thought, I have a basic cookbook and I can find more recipes on the web.”

“No argument from me.” Wade held on to the book. “I’m a desperate man.”

Following tips in the pages, he proceeded to buy a large disposable pan, a baster and two electronic meat thermometers to stick in different parts of the bird.

“Old-fashioned meat thermometers are cheaper.” Adrienne had a couple of those in a drawer.

“But these beep.”

“Seriously, that’s a factor?”

Wade feigned a scowl. “Don’t deprive a guy of his gadgets.”

“Be that as it may,” Adrienne said, “I doubt there’s a high-tech way to stuff a turkey.”

He blinked. “Stuff it?”

“Be sure to remove the giblets first.”

“Uh...giblets?” Wade shifted his nearly full basket.

While it had been years since Adrienne had fixed a turkey, she hadn’t forgotten
everything.
“They come in a little bag, hidden in the cavity. Once the turkey’s defrosted, you pull them out and boil them for gravy.”

“Defrosted?” Wade appeared increasingly uneasy.

“You can buy a fresh one, but those cost more.” She folded her arms. “It’s no big deal. You stick the frozen turkey inside that big pan and leave it in the fridge for a few days to thaw.”

“All this for my dad, who doesn’t much care what he eats as long as he gets to watch the football game.” Wade shrugged. “Maybe I’m underestimating him. Besides, I should learn this stuff. I’ll bring leftovers on Saturday so Reg sees that guys cook, too.”

For a fellow who’d been an absentee dad, he was throwing himself into fatherhood full force, Adrienne reflected as they headed for the cashier. The odds of his leaving town were growing slimmer and slimmer, yet the observation failed to stir the usual twist of anxiety. He was good for Reg. And he was right about her—Adrienne didn’t relax and have fun nearly often enough.

But she’d better be careful. People had a way of letting you down when you least expected it.

* * *

O
N
S
ATURDAY
MORNING
Wade picked up Reggie at his sitter’s house as he’d arranged and took his son to the park. Pitching a ball around and taking turns on the slide worked the edge off their energy, so Wade was surprised when his son got cranky during lunch at a fast-food restaurant.

Nearby, a toddler pounded on her tray until her mother released her from the constraints and held her. At another booth, a family of five was sharing French fries and onion rings, laughing as they teased each other. “It’s kind of noisy in here,” Wade observed, wondering if that was the reason for his son’s bad mood.

“It’s not noisy,” Reg grumped.

“Okay.”

“This hamburger’s too big.” His son plopped it down on its wrapper.

“No law says you have to finish it.”

“My teacher told us not to waste food,” the little boy shot back. “There are children starving in Africa.”

What was bothering him today? Wade recalled the saying that familiarity breeds contempt. Apparently their relationship had become familiar enough for Reg to argue with him. While that might be a good indication that he’d become part of the boy’s world, he hoped he hadn’t missed some important clue. “You can take the leftovers home.”

“No. Hamburgers don’t taste good in the microwave.” Reg stared at his hands. “My fingers are greasy.”

Wade finished a mouthful of his chicken sandwich. “You have my permission to go wash them.”

“Come with me.”

“Why? You’re old enough.” The place seemed safe, and Wade had a clear view of the restroom entrance.

“Mommy always went with me,” Reg said.

Wade hesitated. “You mean your aunt?”

“No, my mommy.”

Wade’s impression was that Vicki had been an erratic mother at best. However, he saw no point in arguing. “One more bite and I’ll be done.”

Reggie sank down in his seat without replying. However, when Wade accompanied him, he washed his hands meekly.

The testy mood resurfaced after they reached home. The little boy ran ahead of Wade to the front door and, instead of using his key, punched the doorbell.

“Hey!” Wade ran to catch his wrist before he could do it again. “Your aunt’s sleeping.”

“She should get up.” Reg’s lower lip stuck out.

More puzzled than ever, Wade took the boy’s key and let them inside. “Why?”

Instead of answering, his son ran upstairs. “Don’t bother your aunt!” Wade shouted before realizing he’d no doubt awakened her by yelling. “Oh, hell.”

A few minutes later, Adrienne descended the stairs, a soft green bathrobe bringing out the shade of her eyes while dark blond hair fell in disarray around her shoulders. Sleepy and invitingly tranquil despite the interruption, she held her nephew’s hand.

Seeing Wade, she gave a start. “Oh, you’re still here.”

“Yep.” Although that might be his cue to leave, he wasn’t ready to. “He’s been a real handful. I can’t believe he’s tired of our mornings together already.”

Reg perched on one of the lower steps. “I’m not tired of them.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Adrienne sat beside him.

“Nothing.” He sounded angry, though.

How was a parent supposed to react when a child refused to communicate? Wade clenched his hands in frustration. “I don’t know what to do.”

“When did this behavior start?” Adrienne probed.

Wade thought it over. “At the restaurant, he talked about his mother. I don’t recall him doing that before.”

“Other kids have their mommies,” Reg muttered. “I miss her.”

Drawing him close, Adrienne rested her cheek atop her nephew’s head. Her gaze touched Wade’s, and suddenly he understood. Despite Vicki’s flaws, a mother was a mother, and seeing other kids with their happy families had hurt.

“We should go visit her today,” Adrienne said. “It’s been a few months. Too long.”

“Can we?” Reg straightened.

“Sure.”

“Can Daddy go with us?”

“If he’s free,” Adrienne said tactfully.

Although not thrilled by the prospect, Wade welcomed the fact that his son wanted to include him.
Guess I didn’t screw up with him after all.

“I’d be glad to join you.” Wade had never been able to visit his own mother’s grave, because she didn’t have one. A few days after she’d died in the small-plane crash, her remains had been cremated and the ashes scattered at sea, as per her will. Because he’d been only sixteen, her adult stepson had taken care of the arrangements. While the idea of visiting a cemetery aroused painful recollections of loss, he understood why it was important for Reggie.

“You guys can pick flowers from the garden while I get ready,” Adrienne said. “The calla lilies are in bloom, and I saw a few roses with buds opening.” She gave details about the length of the stems and how to prepare them for the brass vase on the grave. They were to cut bunches for Reg’s grandparents, too.

Eagerly, the little boy scrambled to his feet. “I’ll cut them!”

“With your father’s help.”

“I’ll fetch the clippers.” Off he darted.

Wade was about to follow when Adrienne said, “Are you sure about this? You have no reason to mourn my sister.”

“I mourn her for my son’s sake,” he responded truthfully. “And by the way, I’m impressed with your detective work about his mood.”

Her mouth quirked. “Kids can be a mystery.”

With her hair loose and her robe opening to reveal the lacy edge of her nightgown, she seemed different from her usual brisk self. Sensual, alluring and unguardedly female. The kind of woman who belonged in a man’s arms, being kissed at length.

Wrong place, wrong time.
And, given the circumstances, wrong woman. “Thanks for inviting me.” Wade strode in his son’s wake.

The cemetery lay in the town’s northeast section, near the freeway. On a Saturday afternoon, quite a few families were visiting loved ones, he noticed as Adrienne parked alongside the curving drive. They’d taken her car since it was larger.

“Mia’s daddy is here,” Reg announced as they got out. “So are Mommy and Grandma.”

“And your grandfather, although you never knew him.”

The graves were close together. A plaque marked Vicki’s burial place, engraved with her name, birth and death dates and Dearly Loved Mother and Sister.

Solemnly, Reg positioned the flowers in the vases and added water from a bottle. It was peaceful here, Wade thought, gazing at the expanse of green.