Chapter 12 #2
Pixie was busy on the laptop Marlow had loaned her, searching through various merchandisers and making notes. Andy had fallen asleep thirty minutes ago, and she wanted to make the most of the time she had.
Next to the laptop was a stack of her sketches, with her favorite one on top. She didn’t know if Marlow would like it, and she was incredibly nervous about showing it to her, but if Marlow could be brave, then so could she.
Her simple rendering of a firefly, with flourishes, had turned out really cute. Delicate black lines, a few decorative swirls, and a yellow glow at the tail. Pixie had made several copies, and then experimented with font around it to create a logo for Marlow. No one had asked her for a logo, but she’d doodled while nursing Andy, so it wasn’t as if she’d taken time away from the tasks assigned to her.
When the knock sounded on her front door, she went utterly still. Ridiculous, that she was still so jumpy over a visit. There was no threat, had never been a threat, really. Marlow had handled her in-laws.
Still, before Pixie moved, she snatched up her phone and checked the small image from the camera feed. Two men were at her door.
Her first instinct was to call Marlow in a panic. But no, she immediately rethought that. Marlow trusted her to work, to become more independent.
It was time to get started on that.
Straightening her shoulders with resolve, Pixie tried to think logically. It was still light out. Her doors were locked. She and Andy were safe.
She needed to ask who was visiting.
The second, slightly harder knock, jolted her to her feet. She didn’t want the noise to awaken Andy, so she hurried into the living room and peered out the window. “Who is it?”
A big, official-looking dude dressed in khakis pointed her out to another, older guy. They both stared at her for a moment, and then the older man asked, “Pixie Nolan?”
The double-time beating of her heart stole the strength of her voice. “Yes?”
His brows came together. “I’m Aston Heddings. We need to talk.”
Dark spots danced before her eyes. Gasping, Pixie straightened away from the window, one hand blindly finding the wall for much-needed support. Her legs felt like rubber, her lungs strangled. Forget double-time; her heart launched into a frantic race that threatened to bring on a faint.
Dylan’s father. Here .
The knock came again, this time more of a pounding, and predictably, Andy woke up with a startled cry.
At least that sound sent new strength through her system.
Pixie demanded through the window, “What do you want?”
“Only to make you an offer.”
She shook her head. “What offer?”
“Considerable payment—if you’ll go away.”
Go away? To where? This place was home. Marlow and Cort were family.
Only . . . it wasn’t really her home, and though she could pretend all she wanted, they weren’t her family.
The truth settled heavily in her soul. “Just a minute,” she said, wishing she could go numb instead of feeling so much. Still carrying her phone, she rushed to the bedroom and picked up Andy. His face was red, big tears filling his eyes.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Pixie cuddled him close, murmuring apologies in between kisses to soothe him. “I didn’t mean to make you wait. Everything is okay.” Only it wasn’t. “Shh, shh. Mommy’s here.”
His cries turned to hiccups, and he pressed his face to her shoulder.
She’d promised Marlow that she’d call if she heard from Dylan’s family, only she hadn’t heard from them. Finding them at her front door was different.
If she could get rid of them, she’d tell Marlow all about it afterward.
More pounding made her jump. They weren’t giving her time to make a call anyway.
If it was anyone other than Dylan’s father, Pixie might’ve been able to figure out what to do. But this was her baby’s grandfather. Worse, he was a ridiculously wealthy, influential man.
But did that excuse bad manners? No, it did not. So how dare he just drop in on her? And why keep banging on her door like that? So rude.
Disgruntled now, she snatched up a diaper and wipes and returned to the front room to another hard knock. Thank God for sturdy locks .
Andy cried anew, and that did it. Through the window, Pixie snapped, “Stop making so much noise! You’re upsetting my baby.” The second she said it, she sucked in an appalled breath, and then quickly retreated so they couldn’t see her.
Oh, no . Why had she said that? Their silence was deafening.
Andy, however, could no doubt be heard squalling.
She didn’t dare peek out again. Holding Andy closer, trying to soothe him, Pixie wondered what to do next.
She filled her lungs with a deep, slow breath. Her heartbeat slowed. Her spine stiffened.
Sooner or later, Dylan’s parents were bound to find out about Andy. They’d somehow located her at a motel, so of course they’d learn about a grandchild. She should have listened to Marlow and Cort, should have arranged a better meeting . . .
Too late now.
As calmly as possible, she returned to the window. The older man was pale and grim-faced; he almost looked in pain. The other guy was rigid with anger.
Pixie said, “I need five minutes.”
“You can’t keep Mr. Heddings waiting,” the angry dude growled.
Wanna bet? “Wait or don’t wait, but I need five minutes.” Without another word, Pixie went to the love seat to change Andy’s diaper. He continued to fuss, kicking and anxious to be nursed. She’d have to make it a very quick visit with Mr. Heddings so she could feed her son. If the man wanted to get to know Andy, it would need to be on another day, when he was polite enough to call in advance and make appropriate arrangements instead of dropping by unannounced.
Now was not a good time.
Once Andy was freshly diapered, his fist in his mouth, Pixie smoothed her hair, gave a tug to her loose T-shirt and, carrying Andy close to her chest, went to the door and turned the locks.
The second the door swung open, Mr. Heddings stared—first at her, and then at Andy. Sweat beaded on his temples, and his eyes appeared red.
Pixie braced herself, for what she wasn’t sure.
Until his gaze met hers and he stated, “I’ll give you twenty-five thousand dollars to leave and never come back.”
* * *
When Cort slowed in front of the lake house, then came to an idling stop, Marlow’s thoughts veered from her intention to first get Cort naked, love him silly, and then grill him on his so-called plans. She’d been figuring out everything she wanted to say, and how to say it, when he stopped.
One glance at Pixie’s place and she saw why. A Mercedes Maybach sat in her driveway, the same car that had driven away when Pixie had spotted her nighttime intruder.
Worse, she recognized Aston Heddings with another man, standing at the open front door.
It took all she had not to leave her car right there in the road and run to Pixie. She thought about blasting her horn to get Cort moving when he slowly, as if undecided about what to do, pulled his truck into the driveway.
Parking behind him, Marlow grabbed her purse and started to get out. Cort opened her door but blocked her in. “Stay put a minute.”
Her brows shot up, but she didn’t have time for this. “That’s Aston.”
Staring at the men, Cort said, “I don’t care if he’s Santa Claus. This feels off.”
She was even more alarmed—for Pixie. “It’ll be fine.” As she scrambled out past him, she said, “Behave, okay?”
Given the incredulous look on his face, no one had ever told Cort to behave before.
She snagged his hand. Whatever was about to happen, she wanted him with her.
Trotting forward, Marlow called out, “Aston, hello.” From behind the men, she could see Pixie, her eyes dazed and her body frozen, and the sight put Marlow into a killing rage. Not that she’d show it. Yet. No way would she give Aston the upper hand. “What are you doing here?” She glanced around. “Where’s Sandra?”
“She’s at home.” Turning his back on Pixie, Aston directed all his anger at Marlow. “ You knew .”
Oh, this wasn’t good. Mustering a show of bravado, Marlow thrust up her chin. “Knew what, exactly?”
“That Pixie Nolan is here, that she has a child she claims is Dylan’s.”
Still clinging to Cort’s hand, Marlow said, “Yes, I’ve known Pixie for a little while now.”
Aston’s voice rose an octave. “And you didn’t see fit to tell us?”
He might as well have shouted traitor ! The accusation was there in his florid face and the bunching of his eyebrows.
There wasn’t much she could say. He and Sandra should have been notified, but then again, it wasn’t her place to do that. “If you want to speak to me, you’ll lower your voice.” Releasing Cort, Marlow stepped around Aston to reach Pixie. In a near whisper, she asked, “Are you all right?”
Pixie’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Andy was starting to fuss, and when Marlow glanced back at Cort, he appeared far too grim.
She cleared her throat. “Pixie? Would you like to invite them in?”
“He . . . he offered me money.” Pixie seemed to have a hard time replying. “A lot of it.”
“Oh?” As she turned to face the men, Marlow stepped in front of Pixie so that she mostly blocked her from their view. “Trying to buy her off, Aston?”
“Dear God,” he breathed, his hands in fists at his sides. “This is low even for you, Marlow.”
Well, that stung. “Even for me?”
Aston took an aggressive step forward, and Cort was there, blocking his way. “I wouldn’t.”
Appalled, Aston stepped back, then remembered himself and turned to the man with him—who took that look as permission to press forward.
Marlow stood her ground but said, “Cort?”
“Yes?” he growled.
“If he doesn’t behave, you don’t have to either.”
Cort slowly smiled, and now he was the one stalking forward, effectively backing both men farther away from the door.
Marlow had no idea what she might have unleashed, but she had faith that Cort could handle the situation, one way or another. He was a calm, capable, peaceful man, she reminded herself. He wouldn’t escalate the confrontation.
Needing a moment, Marlow said, “If you gentlemen would all wait here, I’ll discuss this with Pixie.” She started to close the door—not completely, just enough for privacy—but the man with Aston reached out to stop her.
Cort said, “No.” Just that, calmly stated, but wow, it had impact.
“Who are you?” Aston demanded.
Oh, Lord. Marlow realized things had just gotten even more complicated.
“You first,” Cort said with a nod at the guy Aston had brought along.
“He works for me.”
Cort nodded. “Marlow is a tenant.”
“More than a tenant,” Aston sneered.
“More than an employee,” Cort countered.
Well. Clearly, Cort had this under control. She touched his arm. “Just a few minutes, okay? If they choose to leave, that’s fine.”
“Sure.” Cort stationed himself on the front stoop, an immovable object standing in the way of anyone who tried to rush her timeline. “Let me know when you’re ready.” Then he pulled the door shut. Completely.
Well darn. Now she’d have no idea what was happening out there. That was impetus enough for her to hurry the discussion along.
Releasing an unsteady breath, she quickly turned her attention to Pixie. “Come on.” She led Pixie to the love seat and urged her to sit.
“I . . . I need to feed Andy.”
“Do you want privacy?”
She grabbed Marlow’s hand. “No. Don’t leave me.”
In that moment, Marlow knew she’d fight dragons—or angry in-laws—for this wounded young woman. “I’m right here.” Andy started to fuss, knowing what was to come, so Marlow said, “Go on. We can talk while you nurse him.”
With a nod, Pixie got the baby settled, but she wouldn’t meet Marlow’s gaze. After a moment, she said, “He offered me twenty-five thousand dollars to go away.”
“Bastard,” Marlow replied mildly, but the offer worried her. “What do you want to do?”
“It’s so much money. I could repay you and Cort.”
It was incredibly hard to know how to respond. She wanted to grab Pixie and tell her not to go. But more than that, she wanted Pixie to want to stay. She wanted her to look to the future and think about plans and consequences. “Neither Cort nor I have asked for any payment.”
“I know, but it’s still a debt.” She faced Marlow, her blue eyes full of doubt. “I feel it, in my heart.” She didn’t falter or look away. “I want you to be proud of me.”
“Oh, Pixie.” Marlow smiled through her sadness—and her pride. “Don’t you know? I already am.”
As if she didn’t believe her, Pixie continued. “Mr. Heddings threw that out there, and my head’s been swimming ever since.” She reached for Marlow’s hand again. “It’s selfish of me, I know.”
Bracing herself, Marlow waited.
“But I don’t want to go. I don’t want to leave you, or Cort, or this town.”
The relief was enough to wilt Marlow. “Then don’t go! Stay. We’ll build a fantastic future together.”
Pixie breathed harder. “You mean it?”
Nodding quickly, Marlow said, “I know Cort will agree.”
Pixie’s smile was a beautiful thing, but then, she was a stunning young woman. As her health had returned, and her color improved, she positively glowed. Especially when she held Andy.
“Cort’s pretty awesome, isn’t he?”
“The most awesome.” In every way. That’s why Marlow loved him. “We may not be able to stay right here in Bramble, but we will stay close. This is home now. For both of us.”
“Home.” Pixie squeezed her hand tighter. “And family. God, that means so much to me!”
“Definitely family, because I’ve grown used to being a big sister and aunt.”
Reassured and no longer panicked, Pixie grinned. “I want to learn to be independent, like you. I want a stable future for Andy. And I want him to have good people around him. You and Cort are the best people I know.”
Marlow’s heart turned over. “Thank you. I’m sure Cort will be as flattered as I am.” He’d lost his mother and his best friend, all in a twenty-four-hour period. Knowing that helped her to understand Cort a little better.
He protected the people he cared about.
He went out of his way to help them, and she was so glad he had a town full of people who embraced him. Without a doubt, he would want to protect and nurture Pixie and Andy, too.
But when it came to Marlow, would he feel the same? She knew he cared. She felt it every time he held her, each time he encouraged her and applauded her. It was there in his secret little smiles, in the way he sometimes watched her when he didn’t think she’d notice. Especially at work. Or when he thought she was still sleeping beside him.
Yet he would feel different about her because she wasn’t in need. She was self-reliant, empowered, with money and resources. She had choices, had always had choices, so how deep did Cort’s feelings for her go?
It wasn’t an answer she would get today, not now with big trouble right outside Pixie’s door. She knew her in-laws, knew how they liked to take over. Even if they did accept Andy as a grandchild—and there was no guarantee of that—would they accept the boundaries Pixie would impose and respect her for the amazing mother she was?
With their shared history, Marlow didn’t think so.
When Andy finished nursing, Marlow knew they had to plan. “So, to start building that independence, what do you say I let Mr. Heddings in? We can introduce him to Andy, you can politely turn down his offer, and we’ll go from there.”
Tentatively, Pixie said, “I could maybe invite him back, him and Mrs. Heddings, I mean.” She hurried on. “You were right. I should have told them already. It’s just that everything was so nice here, I wanted to enjoy it in peace for a while.”
“Understandable, after what you’d been through.”
Once Pixie had burped Andy, Marlow took the baby. Together, they went to the door.
Cort still stood there, arms crossed, one shoulder leaning against the door frame, relaxed but immovable.
Aston paced in the yard while his bully boy glared daggers at Cort. In that moment, Marlow made a decision. She touched Cort’s shoulder. “We’re ready,” she said quietly.
He straightened, glanced at Pixie, and asked, “You’re okay?”
Smile shy, Pixie nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
Cort moved to the side, saying to Marlow, “It’s your show.”
Actually, it should have been Pixie’s, but to get things started, she called out, “Aston?”
His head jerked up, and he glared at her.
“Would you like to come in for a few minutes?” When he agreed, she would stipulate that his aggressive friend should wait outside.
Aston surprised her by locking his gaze on Pixie. “Fifty thousand.”
Pixie sucked in a breath.
Cort’s enigmatic expression never changed.
“She doesn’t want your money, Aston.” Marlow put her hand on Pixie’s back. “Now, do you want to meet your grandson?”
He breathed harder. “One hundred thousand.”
Stumbling back, her eyes wide as saucers, Pixie looked at Cort, then at Marlow.
Say no , Marlow silently urged her. Say no . Pixie was so stunned, it was a wonder she didn’t faint.
Then Pixie took a step outside the door, her head held high, her chin elevated. Only shaking a little, she said, “I appreciate the offer, Mr. Heddings. I really do. It’s incredibly generous. More money than I’ve ever even dreamed of.”
Aston said, “You and your child can have a whole new life—somewhere far from here.”
“No, I can’t. This is the only life I want.” She reached for Cort’s hand, and he willingly gave it. Then she put her other hand on Marlow’s shoulder.
Oh, it felt good to be united like this. Cort’s expression didn’t change, but Marlow knew the gesture pleased him. She’d gotten to the point that she could sense what he wouldn’t say, and standing there with her and Pixie felt right to him.
But then, he was a man of strong convictions and honor. She couldn’t say the same for Aston. Honestly, she wasn’t sure what Aston was thinking, or what he was doing.
Voice strong, Pixie said, “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I can’t take your money.”
“I’ll—”
She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter what you offer. I’m staying. Oh, and Marlow wanted me to contact you and Mrs. Heddings. I asked her for a little time. It’s not right for you to blame her.”
Unappeased, Aston said, “She should have contacted me herself. Then we could have already proved what a fraud you are.”
Pixie didn’t waver. She didn’t shout or cry. She said simply, “Since you’re not interested in meeting Andy, and you’re only being rude, you should go.”
“ Andy ,” he sputtered in rising tones. “That was my father’s name!”
“Really?” To Pixie’s credit, she didn’t flinch from his anger. “I didn’t know that. Before he died, Dylan suggested the name if I had a boy. From that day on, I thought of the baby as Andy.”
“It’s outrageous!”
“I sincerely wish you could discuss it with Dylan. I wasn’t aware of the significance.”
“I demand a paternity test. Immediately.”
Pixie nodded.
“Until then, you won’t get a dime from us.”
“I wouldn’t accept money from you anyway. Have a good day, Mr. Heddings.”
Marlow was in awe of the graceful and kind way Pixie had just handled herself. When she glanced over at Cort, his inscrutable expression had been replaced by a small smile of satisfaction.
Together, the three of them went inside. Marlow first, followed by Pixie. Of course, Cort made sure he was last to protect their backs.
Andy, the little sweetheart, kicked his legs, cooing.
Cort hugged Pixie right off her feet. “Bravo. You handled that well.”
“Yes, you did,” Marlow agreed. “It was perfect.” Currently filled with love—all kinds of love—Marlow felt extreme pity for Aston. Because of his attitude, he’d never know anything like this. And that, truly, was a shame.