Chapter 2 #3
“No …” He gestured at the couch. “I’d rather you stay.” His jaw clenched and he muttered an indistinguishable curse. “If you want to leave, I get it, but I didn’t mean to go off track. I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean to get into all that.”
“Sometimes the details of our lives are so interwoven, it’s impossible to share anything without sharing it all.” She knew that better than anyone.
To let him know she’d be happy to stay, Pixie sat down and then was relieved when he did the same. “I don’t mind if you want to talk about it. I can’t even imagine what it must have been like.”
“I’m still furious over it.”
“At whoever hurt her?”
“And myself.”
Every time he mentioned himself, he shifted uncomfortably.
“You didn’t hurt her, Brogan.” She felt certain of that. “And you said you were out of touch. I’m assuming with the military?”
“Mostly.” The tension built again; then he said, “I should have been more receptive to Connie. As it was, she barely knew how to reach me.”
“Who had Shayna?”
Disgust showed on his face. “Connie’s parents.
” With a shake of his head, he said, “Brian and Ruth—our father and her mother. They’re a waste of space, to be truthful.
All that time, I’d thought I was missing out on something, and then I realized Connie was the one who’d had the bad luck.
” He gave himself a moment before explaining.
“I arrived in the middle of a party. It was so loud, no one heard me knocking, so I just went in. People were drunk or high, abrasive. I looked everywhere and couldn’t find a baby.
I thought maybe they’d left her with a sitter, but no one seemed to know what I was talking about. ”
How scary that had to have been.
“I was about to leave, but then I decided to check upstairs. I was halfway up the steps when I heard her wails.”
This time, Pixie couldn’t take it. She scooted to the edge of her seat and again rested her hand on his wrist. “She’s here now and safe,” she softly reminded him, aware of the tears gathering in her eyes.
His whispered voice sounded tortured. “She was a mess, Pixie. I don’t think her diaper had been changed all day.
The bedding was gross.” He put his hand over hers and held on.
“I swear, I wanted to kill someone, but the baby was my priority. Hell, I wasn’t even sure she was Shayna, but it didn’t matter.
I grabbed a clean blanket and wrapped her up, then went into the bathroom and stripped her to get her clean. ”
Pixie squeezed her eyes shut, but her mind supplied a vision she didn’t want to see, so she focused on Brogan instead. Big, strong, capable Brogan. Shayna’s hero.
“I’d never handled a tiny baby before. She weighed next to nothing and seemed so breakable.” His jaw worked. “The diaper rash … To this day, it destroys me to think how bad it was.”
Heart aching, Pixie wondered who could allow such a thing. It was unthinkable—and beyond cruel.
“Soon as I got her cleaned up, I went back to the room to look for diapers, but couldn’t find any.
I ended up wrapping her in my shirt, and on my way back downstairs, I called the police.
I also prayed that I’d find formula of some kind and a bottle.
I did, but I had to knock out some drunk asshole who protested my going through the cabinets. ”
Imagining him doing that, while holding a crying infant, gave Pixie a slight smile. “Good for you.”
“The cops got there fast, thankfully. A female cop was with them, and she saved me. She had kids of her own, all older, but she knew how to fix the formula. She cleaned the bottle first, telling me to keep doing what I was doing.”
“Holding Shayna, talking softly to her?”
“Rocking a little, I guess, though I didn’t realize it at the time. By then, my little Sugar wasn’t wailing as hard, so I guess it was working.”
“Just getting her clean had to help.”
He dropped his head forward. “I didn’t know jack-shit about giving a baby a bath, if the water was too warm or too cold, but I knew the mess had to go, even though she was raw.” He clenched all over again.
Pixie sniffled, and that drew his attention.
“Aw, damn. I’m sorry. For God’s sake, you barely know me and I’m dumping all this on you.” Then he tipped his head back. “And I’ve been cursing again. I’m sorry about that, too.”
“No, it’s fine.” She released him to dig in her purse for a tissue. “I’m just so glad you have her now.”
“Yeah, me too.” He glanced at the kids. “Look at that. Guess I got lucky with my verbal slipups, because Andy didn’t hear me.” He smiled. “They’re both asleep.”
Pixie gave a small laugh. “I hear that almost never happens. Moms in town have told me that two kids are impossible to get down for naps at the same time. I think we just lucked out.”
He checked his watch. “Usually, she’d have been up for a while before nodding off again.”
“I think they were soothed by each other.”
Alert, he asked, “You really think so?”
“I hear that babies are fascinated by other babies. I don’t really know that, though. Andy’s my only child, and while he sees some kids around here, he’s the only baby.”
“I didn’t ask, but maybe I should have.”
There was something off in his tone, something Pixie couldn’t quite name. “Ask me what?”
“If you have a husband.”
“Oh.” Though she didn’t know whether he asked out of interest or mere curiosity, her heart did a weird little flutter.
“No. That is, I never had a husband.” For the longest time, she’d been ashamed of herself and her behavior, but not anymore.
Yes, she’d been foolish, but she’d also been young, and she’d worked hard to make up for her mistakes.
“Andy’s father …” She shook her head. No way would she blurt out that he’d been married to another woman—the very woman who was now her best friend.
At the time, Pixie hadn’t known Dylan was married, and now Marlow had forgiven her.
That was all that mattered. “I’ve never been married. ”
He took her confession in stride, saying, “Same.” He nodded at the baby. “Shayna’s father is gone. Passed away, I mean.” He watched her closely. “Andy’s dad?”
“Also passed away.” It seemed incredibly odd that they’d have that in common. She started to ask how Shayna’s father had died, but Brogan didn’t give her a chance.
“So tell me about the town. Any good restaurants that wouldn’t mind if I brought along a baby?”
“Since I rarely go anywhere without Andy, I can tell you that no one seems to mind at all. Most people fawn over him. He gets so much attention that I sometimes worry he’ll become spoiled.”
“You can’t spoil a kid with too much love.” No sooner did the words leave his mouth than he looked chagrined. “Not that I’m an expert or anything. Just seems to me you can dole out love, hand in hand with setting boundaries.”
“That’s my plan, at least it is when I’m thinking about it and not just reacting.” In the moment, she knew she could be overly emotional and protective.
“Ah, I see some doubt.”
“Best-laid plans and all that.”
“Give me an example.”
Sure, why not? It was nice to share with another parent who had, or would, face the same indecision and uncertainty.
“I want Andy to be confident, but then I fall apart when he gets hurt. Like a few weeks ago. We were at the park, and he kept kicking off his shoes. I told him he had to wear them because of sharp sticks on the ground and bees everywhere, but he really wanted to feel the grass on his toes.”
Brogan laughed. “I can see the lure of warm grass on bare feet.”
“So could I,” she said, “so I gave in. He was loving it until he stepped on a thorn.” Even now, guilt filled her.
“I tell you, the way he screamed, I didn’t know what had happened.
Instead of just taking care of it and telling him how careful we need to be when barefoot, I sat down and rocked him and kissed his foot a dozen times, and I swear, I was ready to cry with him. ”
Brogan’s expression warmed. “See, to me that just sounds nice. You’re a loving mom. You did what moms do.”
She choked on her laugh. “Did your mother do that?”
His face seemed to freeze before he forced a curl to his mouth. “She wasn’t around much, but she wouldn’t have been the type anyway.”
If his mother hadn’t been around, and his father had wanted nothing to do with him, who had raised him?
“You did the right thing,” he assured her. “Seems to me it’s good for kids to have new experiences. I’m sure he wasn’t badly hurt, but you let him know you’re there for him when he needs you.”
“Some of the other people at the park looked at me like I was bonkers. One dad came over to ask how badly my son was hurt. When I explained that he’d only stepped on a thorn, he very nicely checked Andy’s foot.
We could just barely see where he’d been poked.
” And she’d felt like a fool. “The guy was nice, but he suggested that if I was calmer, Andy would soon be calm, too. His wife brought me over an ice cube and together we held it on his little foot until he’d settled down. ”
“People can sometimes surprise us with their concern.”
She had a strong suspicion that Brogan hadn’t been surprised nearly often enough.
“Around here, you get used to everyone being nice.” The town was full of well-meaning, concerned, and sometimes nosy neighbors.
“For three days, Andy wanted to show everyone his boo-boo—even though there was nothing to see. He insisted that Marlow and Cort should kiss it, then Herman and Robin, and even Bren Crawford.”
“Okay, rewind.” He spun a finger in the air and asked with comedic humor, “I recognize Cort’s name as the guy renting out this place, but who are all the other foot kissers?”
The way he put things kept her amused. “Marlow is his wife and my best friend. Herman owns the Dry Frog Tavern—it’s a place you’ll love, I promise—and Bren is an adorably cranky older guy who refuses to retire.
He still runs the boat launch and rental, but only Friday through Sunday. He’s closed during the week.”
“So … what happens if someone wants to take their boat in or out on a weekday?”
“Outsiders are turned away. Locals have to ask him nicely, and that’s not easy because he’s hard of hearing. Believe me, if he doesn’t want to hear you, he won’t.”
Under his breath, Brogan said, “Reminds me of a bullheaded commander I knew.”
Pixie wondered at that, especially because he’d said it with an undertone of grit and possibly anger.
Or disappointment? If she knew him better, she could probably interpret his mood, but he was still a mystery.
He kept his emotions contained, much as Cort did, and yet he was ready with a smile, and he totally fawned over the babies.
“You mentioned someone named Robin?”
“Robin Merriman runs the Docker restaurant. It’s a nice family place on the lake. People show up in both boats and cars. Seating inside and out. When you want more than a burger or pizza, you go to the Docker.”
“Sounds great. I need to check it out. Anything else?”
She told him where to find the nearest grocery store, where to get gas and last-minute items, ice cream and pastries.
“The beach area is quiet through the week if you like to jog. It gets busier on the weekend.” Though with an infant, she didn’t know how he’d manage much jogging.
Grinning, she added, “And if you want to hang with a bunch of teenagers, Leo runs an arcade.”
“Yeah, I might pass on the arcade. I was never much for games.” He sipped his cola, then asked, “Do you work in the area?”
“Nearby, actually. Marlow opened her own small boutique, now named Marlow’s Whimsy. It’s just outside of Bramble, in Lankton, not that far away. I’m her manager.” Her face warmed as she explained, “I also lucked into some design work. I do that freelance for various places.”
“Wow, nice. What kind of designs?”
Yep, that was more heat flooding her face. At this point, with her fair complexion, she probably looked scalded.
Brogan’s slow grin warned her before he asked, “Something risqué?”
“What? No. Of course not.”
He held up a hand. “Sorry, but the way you blushed, I wasn’t sure.”
Gulping a drink of her cola gave her something to do, but also made her burp. She groaned, set the drink aside, and said, “Excuse me.”
His expression sobered. “Hey, if you’d rather not tell me, that’s fine.”
“No, it’s not that.” Blowing out a breath, she got hold of herself. “I’m not used to having a reason to boast, and I’m not at all sure I’m comfortable with it. I mean, it’s wonderful. I feel better about myself …”
That steely gaze of his, rife with curiosity, stayed intent on her face.
Right. Scratch that. She didn’t want him delving too deeply into her scandalous past.
Determined to sound like a reasonable adult, Pixie started over.
“When Marlow first came up with the idea for the boutique, she wanted to sell unique stuff that represented the area here. She loved seeing the fireflies that come out in the evening, so one day, when I finished organizing some stuff for her, I started to doodle. Somewhat by accident, I came up with a few stylized fireflies. Marlow loved them and insisted on paying me for my work. She uses the designs on a lot of stuff now.”
“Wow. That sounds really great.”
“It was. Is.” Remembering the numerous ways Marlow had helped to rebuild her—her spirit, her pride, her sense of belonging—filled Pixie’s soul.
“I thought she claimed to like the designs just to give me a boost. But then, other businesspeople around here asked me to come up with designs for them, and they insisted on paying me, too, and …” She shrugged.
“It just sort of grew into a nice, easy part-time job that really helps my budget.”
Brogan studied her face, her smile, and even the way she held her cola. “You’re an impressive woman, Pixie Nolan. Not just as a mother, which I realized right off, but in every way, it seems.”
“I …” Honestly, she had no idea what to say, so she settled on, “Thank you. But I’m just me—and I’ve had a lot of help.”
“Maybe someday you’d like to tell me about that.”