Chapter 13 #2
Mac worked long days that week, spending hours in the hot sun on the roof and taking home stacks of paper from the office every night to sort through. He quickly discovered the business was in arrears to just about every major supplier and talked to his father about writing some checks.
“Go right ahead,” Big Mac said. “You got the same name I do. Sign away.”
“Is there money in the account?”
“Plenty.”
“Is there a bank statement lying around somewhere so I can confirm that?”
Big Mac gestured to the office. “In there somewhere.”
“Fabulous.”
Early each morning, he continued to take Thomas out for a walk, and on Tuesday they began work on a special project. Sitting in the South Harbor Diner, he propped the drooling baby up on the table so they faced each other. “Okay, buddy,” Mac said, “let me hear you say Ma-ma. Ma-ma. You can do it.”
“Mmmmm,” Thomas said, chewing on his fingers.
“Close, but not quite.” Mac tugged the fingers out of his mouth. “Ma-ma. Ma-ma.”
More drool. “Mmmmm.”
Mac was so focused on the baby that he didn’t see another man approach the table.
“He’s awfully cute.”
Mac glanced up and fought back a gasp.
“Mind if I join you?” Tom Wilkinson asked.
Mac lifted Thomas off the table and rested him on his shoulder, facing away from Tom. “Sure.”
Tom slid into the booth across from Mac and accepted a cup of coffee from the waitress.
“I didn’t think you’d be hanging around,” Mac said.
“I wasn’t going to, but something about this island calls to me. The writing really flows here.”
Mac once again found himself fighting for self-control when all he wanted to do was tell this guy what he really thought of him. “I’ve read some of your books,” he said, trying to stay on safe ground.
“That so?”
“Uh-huh.” Mac wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing he’d enjoyed them.
“May I be honest with you, Mac?”
“If you must.”
“It took about thirty minutes on the island to find out you and Maddie aren’t really married.”
Mac’s heart began to beat faster. “We will be soon.”
As if Mac hadn’t spoken, Tom continued. “And to learn you only met her a week or so ago.”
Mac tightened his hold on Thomas. “What’s it to you?”
Tom sat back in the booth and stretched out an arm along the top. “Writers are notoriously bad at math, but even I can add nine plus nine to determine that’s probably my son you’re holding there.”
Mac swallowed a surge of panic. “He’s Maddie’s son.”
“No question about that. I guess the only remaining question is who’s his daddy? A DNA test should straighten that right out, wouldn’t you say?”
Mac refused to blink. “What do you want?”
Now Tom leaned forward, arms resting on the table. “Assurances that she’s not coming after me for money.”
“Has she yet?”
“That doesn’t mean she won’t.”
“She has no interest in you or your money. I can guarantee that.”
“What about him?” Tom nodded to the baby. “When he’s old enough to know who his father is?”
“He’ll have a father, and he’ll want for nothing.”
“Are you willing to put that in writing?”
“If you’re willing to sign away your rights to him.”
“I’ll have my lawyer draw up the documents.”
With one arm tight around Thomas, Mac reached for his wallet and laid it flat on the table to withdraw a business card. “Send the papers to my Miami office. They’ll get them to me.”
“And I won’t hear from any of you again?”
“If you hadn’t come here, you never would’ve heard from us in the first place. You have nothing we need.”
After a long pause, Tom said, “Is he a good baby?”
“The best.”
“I don’t suppose. . .”
“Don’t even ask.”
Tom shrugged, as if he couldn’t care less, and apparently he couldn’t, which was just fine with Mac.
“Can I ask you one thing?” Mac said.
“Sure.”
“What kind of guy tells a woman he’s had a vasectomy when he hasn’t?”
“The kind who’s allergic to latex but loves sex.”
Mac stared at him, incredulous. Maddie was lucky that Thomas was the only thing she’d gotten from this guy. “We’re done here,” Mac said, anxious to be rid of him.
Tom took the hint and stood up. “I’ll be in touch.”
Mac just nodded and watched him walk away, praying he’d leave the island before Maddie ran into him again. Mac kissed Thomas’s forehead. “Let’s hope you got more of your mama in you than that scumbag, buddy.”
“Mam.”
Mac stared at him, breathless. “Ma-ma?”
“Mammm.”
Mac grinned at the baby. “We’re getting closer.”
“Looks like it’s going to rain,” Mac said Thursday morning. “Let’s take the truck. You can drive.”
“I can’t drive your new truck!”
“It’s our new truck, and yes, you can. You do have a driver’s license, don’t you?”
She nodded. “But I haven’t driven in ages, and the truck is so new and perfect.”
Mac laughed at her distress. “It’s yours to use whenever you need it. In fact. . .” He rummaged around in his backpack and produced a set of keys. “Your own keys. I meant to give them to you before now.”
Maddie eyed the keys with trepidation as she reached out to take them. “All right,” she said with a sigh, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Before we go, Thomas and I have something we want to show you.” Mac picked up the baby from his mat on the floor. “You ready, buddy?”
“Ayeyayyayay.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Mac pointed to Maddie. “Who’s that? What’s her name?”
Thomas looked from one of them to the other.
In Thomas’s ear, he whispered, “Mama.” They’d had a breakthrough that morning. Mac prayed the baby would do it again.
“Mama,” Thomas said, clear as day.
Maddie gasped. “Oh my God!” Tears sprang to her eyes. “Did he just say. . . Oh my God!”
“Mama,” Thomas said again.
Maddie burst into tears and reached for the baby, hugging him close to her. “I can’t believe it! Where did that come from?”
“We’ve been practicing,” Mac said, overwhelmed by her reaction.
“I just can’t believe it.”
Thomas ran a chubby hand over the tears on her face. “Mama.”
“Yes, baby.” She hugged him tight. “I’m your mama. Who’s that crazy guy?” She pointed to Mac.
“Dada.”
Mac’s mouth fell open. “I swear, I didn’t teach him that.”
She laughed through her tears. “He seems to have come to that conclusion all on his own.” Maddie reached for Mac to bring him into their hug. “That was the best surprise ever. Thank you.”
“It was all Thomas.”
“With a little help from his dada.”
After they dropped Thomas off with Tiffany, Maddie drove painfully slow and made a full and complete stop at every intersection on the way to North Harbor.
“At this rate, we should get there by next Tuesday,” Mac muttered.
“Be quiet. I’m concentrating.” When they finally arrived, Maddie released a long sigh of relief. “That was stressful.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
“Whatever you say.”
He kissed her and sent her on her way to the hotel.
As she worked her way through her list of rooms, Maddie thought about the job offer from the Beachcomber and how it would make her life—and Thomas’s—much easier. She was on her last room when Daisy came rushing in, clutching the Gansett Gazette.
“You’re all over the paper, Maddie!”
A ripple of fear settled in Maddie’s belly. “What do you mean?”
“Look.” Daisy thrust the paper at her.
Maddie did a quick scan, gasping as she read one of the letters to the editor. “Oh my God. No. No!”
“You didn’t know?” Daisy asked, looking stricken.
“I have to go.” Leaving the room unfinished, Maddie rushed past her friend and headed for the stairs. On the hotel’s expansive front lawn, she fought back tears as she lowered herself into one of the Adirondack chairs and read the letters.
To the Editor,
I’m writing this letter to clear up a misunderstanding dating back to high school. Maddie Chester did nothing to earn the nickname we gave her, and it was wrong of us to say what we did about her.
Darren Tuttle
Gansett Island
“Oh my God,” Maddie whispered as tears poured down her face. “How could he do this to me? I told him that stuff in confidence!”
To the Editor,
It is with great shame that I write a letter that should’ve been written years ago.
As a high school student concerned with the approval of my peers, I went along with something that I knew was wrong.
It has haunted me ever since. Maddie Chester was branded with a nickname she didn’t deserve.
She was never anything but a lovely girl with a sweet personality who didn’t deserve the way we treated her.
The nickname she was given in high school was unfair and untrue.
I regret the role I played in perpetuating rumors that have plagued her ever since. I sincerely apologize.
Evan McCarthy
Nashville, Tennessee
Maddie read letters from the four other men who’d participated in Darren’s scheme. While none was as eloquent as Evan McCarthy’s, each said roughly the same thing. By the time she finished reading them all, her hands were shaking and her cheeks were wet with tears.
She glanced at the marina and saw Mac at work on the roof. Oh, the things she’d like to say to him right now! Too bad she planned never to speak to him again.