Chapter 6 #3
He wanted to grab her conviction like a lifeline. “So you don’t think it was a mistake?”
“No.” She gave him a “come on” look, as if to sway him. “Remember, I’ve seen you with Shayna. No one could love and care for that little girl more than you do.”
“I do love her.”
Softly, Pixie said, “It’s obvious.”
“But, Pixie, I’m not the sterling person you seem to think I am.”
Another challenging and exasperating look landed on him. “Puh-leeze.”
He hated to disillusion her. “There are things about me you don’t know.”
For a split second, wariness appeared in her eyes; then she shook it off. “So? There are things about me that you don’t know, either.”
That put him on edge. “Like what?”
“You’ll be here through the summer, right? That’ll give us time to get to know each other. I’m sure I’ll still feel the same way.”
Suffering his own dose of wariness, Brogan eyed her. “What way is that?”
“That Connie was a loving mother who ensured her daughter’s happiness by making a great choice of guardian. You.”
Her opinion would definitely change when she knew the truth. She had a right to know, so he decided to get to it. “There are some things I should tell you. See, Connie left … well, not a journal, really, but a notebook full of explanations. Things she wanted me to know.”
Pixie said nothing.
“A lot of it was stuff about her parents. Her mother, our father.”
“Really awful stuff?”
God, he was botching this. “They didn’t beat her or anything, but physical abuse isn’t the only kind.”
“I agree.”
“She wanted me to understand why they weren’t named as guardians, I guess, in case I balked at the responsibility.”
“Get real. Never for a second did she believe that.”
No, Connie hadn’t, but how could Pixie know so soon?
“She didn’t want me to use them as even occasional babysitters, either.
She left a nice life insurance policy, plus a house, car, bank account—stuff that she said should help if I needed to hire a sitter.
” Not that he had access to the house. That was going to take a while, because Ruth and Brian had moved in.
“Hmm, I haven’t thought of any of that yet, but I probably should.”
Did she think he was pointing fingers? “You have Marlow and Cort, right? You know they’d take care of Andy.”
“True, and Andy’s grandparents are wealthy. It’s a struggle to keep them from taking over.”
The casual mention threw him off for a moment. “Are they involved in Andy’s life?”
“They are now, at least somewhat.”
“Somewhat?”
“At first, they resented me. It’s a long story, but right now, we’re talking about you.”
Brogan pressed on anyway. “You’ve worked out your differences?”
Appearing confused at his curiosity, she shrugged. “They idolized their son and saw me as a stain on his reputation.”
Protective instincts reared up. “What the hell?”
“It’s fine. They came around, and now they consider Andy a link to their son. We don’t see them often, mostly because I still won’t do things their way—and no, I’m not going into that right now. I’ll just say that the animosity is over. Now they’re distant, but doting, grandparents.”
“Distant and doting can’t coexist.”
She grinned. “I guess not, but I meant that when they see him, it’s all adoration. That happens a few times a year. They send gifts, have a trust fund set up for him, and generally invite us to travel with them during holidays.”
“Do you?”
“No. I want Andy to have a simpler life, at least for now. When he’s older, he can expand the relationship if he wants. In the meantime, they’re affectionate with him, but they lead busy lives.”
“You like them, though?”
“Let’s say I don’t dislike them. As long as they’re good to my son, that’s all I need.”
Brogan tried to tiptoe around the topic. “So they’re involved, but Andy doesn’t have his father’s last name?”
Her brows arched. “How do you know that?”
“When he threw that clump of wet food at my head, you called him Andy Nolan.”
Her lips eased into a smile. “Right. Sorry again.”
“You don’t ever have to apologize for your kid being a kid. Besides, it was worth it to hear you laugh.”
“Thank you for being a good sport.” She sighed.
“There are a lot of reasons why Andy doesn’t have his father’s last name.
For one thing, I was never married to him—but Marlow was.
She’s Marlow Easton, now that she and Cort are married, but everyone knew her differently when I first arrived.
Plus, there were those initial problems with his grandparents.
Legally, too, it was just easier to use my surname.
He’s always been Andy Nolan to me, and that’s been enough. ”
“I see your point. The grandparents are okay with that?”
“They have a recognizable name. It likely saves them the embarrassment of having to explain that their son wasn’t perfect after all.”
Even knowing he was pushing his luck, Brogan asked, “Recognizable in what way?”
Pixie gave him a pointed look. “Back to you. What other information did Connie leave you?”
This conversation got trickier by the second.
He really wanted to know more about the grandparents, but he couldn’t risk offending her.
“She identified Shayna’s father.” He couldn’t quite look at her when he said that.
“She shared things about him. Details that … You see …” Damn it, he couldn’t do it. “Sorry, but it’s complicated.”
“And you’re struggling with the memory.” She abruptly stood, tossed the pillow on the couch, and faced him. “Here I am practically grilling you, when I can see that you’d rather not talk about it.”
Actually, it’d be better if he just got it said. The problem was that he liked her, more so every minute he spent with her. She deserved better than the disruption he planned to cause in her life. She and Andy had a nice pattern going. They were happy—what right did he have to intrude?
If it was just him, he wouldn’t hesitate to let it go. He’d leave them in peace, wish them well, and probably miss them like crazy.
This concerned Shayna, though, and that meant he couldn’t walk away. “I should explain.”
“No, it’s fine. Let’s save some conversation for another day, okay? That is, if you don’t mind doing this again.” She rushed to explain, “I mean chatting, letting the kids play, sharing experiences.”
He gave her the truth. “I’ve loved every minute.” It was by far the best evening he’d ever had.
Her smile was a beautiful thing. “Me too.” She looked as if she wanted to say more, but then she shook her head. “It’s getting late, I still need to shower, and we’ll both have full days tomorrow.”
Maybe it made him a coward, but he was glad of the reprieve. “Let me carry out Shayna’s things; then I’ll come back in for her.”
“Good plan.” Her smile remained, accompanying the tenderness in her big blue eyes.
Now that he was off the hook, Brogan didn’t want to linger.
He gathered up Shayna’s belongings, went out into the cool spring air, and stowed them in the front passenger seat.
He started the car and turned on the headlights, then went back in to gather up his sleeping bundle and wrap her in a warm blanket.
She stirred, stretched, but didn’t awaken, even when he put her in the car seat.
Pixie stood in the open doorway, watching him. The golden glow of the porch light created a halo around her fair hair.
Leaving proved difficult. They needed a better way to say good night, but again, most of the options familiar to him couldn’t happen. “I really did have a great time.”
“Me too.” She shifted, looked out at the night, then back at him. “Would you like to come to dinner next Saturday? I don’t yet know my schedule, but I could text you tomorrow.”
A tidal wave of relief washed over him. She wasn’t inviting him back for tomorrow, but he could bide his time while she figured out what worked for her. “I’d like that a lot.”
As if she’d thought he might refuse, her expression relaxed at his agreement. “Great. I’ll let you know.”
Having that promise made everything easier. “Lock your door behind you.”
“I always do.”
He nodded, appeased and yet reluctant for the magic to end.
Then a firefly landed on his car door near the spot where he rested his hand on the top of the frame.
It twinkled, then took flight again. He watched it move out to the yard and spotted dozens more, everywhere, on every shrub and tree. Pixie’s laughter drifted out to him.
It was the perfect ending to the day. Feeling more at peace than he had in years, he smiled at her. “Good night, Pixie.”
In a sassy tone, she said, “See you soon, Brogan.” Quickly ducking inside, she closed the door.
The warmth stayed with him on his short drive up to the lake house. He thought about how she’d been. Wonderful in ways he’d never experienced before. Real, but gentle. Funny, yet sincere.
Once she found out that Andy and Shayna had the same father, everything was bound to change. Still, he was glad he hadn’t pushed the issue.
Not tonight.
Next time would be soon enough.
Pixie thought about Brogan a lot over the next few days. Instincts urged her to offer him comfort, but those same instincts warned that he was wary of kindness. The kids were a sort of buffer for him. She sensed he often focused on Shayna, and even Andy, when emotion got the better of him.
It wasn’t anything she could pinpoint. Brogan Rafferty had long ago learned to hide his thoughts behind an enigmatic expression. Other than a few rare occasions, he showed only what he wanted her to see.
And yet, despite his neutral expression and careful words, she often picked up on feelings of unease, hope, and expectation.