Chapter 6 #4
His father had clearly been a severe disappointment, and from what he’d said, his stepmother was even worse.
Though he hadn’t said too much about his mother, she certainly hadn’t sheltered him or his feelings.
His sister had tried to get closer to him, but like many things—family, love, and understanding—he’d missed out with her.
Brogan believed he carried the blame for that, but Pixie knew better.
A person could only be rejected so many times before they were no longer receptive.
Was that why he’d made the military his family? A noble decision when he could have chosen many other paths.
Again and again, her thoughts churned over the facets of Brogan’s personality. In some ways, she felt she knew him; in other ways, he was still a stranger.
They had arranged to meet for dinner at her house next Saturday. That felt like a lifetime away, but Pixie firmly reminded herself that she was off the market, that she’d been burned and now she had her sights on a bigger purpose: her son, her self-respect, her responsibilities.
She was building a new life, not just for herself, but for her son. Yes, she’d made great progress, but she wasn’t there yet.
The problem, at least when it came to getting her mind off Brogan, was that she kept running into him everywhere.
On Monday, she saw him at the grocery store. “Fend!” Andy shouted loudly, almost leaping out of the cart seat. Pixie dropped her loaf of bread and caught him. “Andy Nolan, that’s dangerous.”
“Fend,” he explained, pointing, then bouncing in her arms as Brogan pushed a grocery cart toward them.
When Andy squealed, Brogan said, “Shh, the baby’s sleeping.” Then to Pixie, “And I’ll be better able to finish up my shopping if she stays asleep.”
New energy flowed through Pixie, and she suddenly wondered if the wind had messed her hair and if her clothes were wrinkled after working all day.
She stopped caring when Brogan lifted Andy into his arms for a big hug, all the while smiling. There in the aisle, with townspeople openly speculating, they’d talked for fifteen minutes or so. She felt certain everyone had seen Andy give Shayna a very gentle kiss on the forehead—with Brogan’s help.
On Tuesday, she was just getting Andy out of the car in the bank parking lot when Brogan stepped out with Shayna in his arms.
“Hey, you two.”
Smiling from the inside out, Pixie said, “We have to stop meeting like this.”
He laughed. “I kind of like it.” Again, they lingered for a lengthy chat. Andy was thrilled that Shayna was awake this time and babbled to her in an excited way about who knew what.
“He really likes her, doesn’t he?”
“You have no idea,” Pixie admitted. “Last night, in the middle of his bedtime book, he yawned and asked about her.”
“Oh? How exactly did he articulate that?”
Funny, since many of Andy’s words were indecipherable. “One word,” Pixie explained. “Baby. But he lifts his shoulders and holds up his hands, making it clear he’s asking about her.”
“Ah, yeah, that’s cute. Next time, let me know and I’ll text a pic of her. He’d probably like that, right?”
“Genius idea, thank you.”
On Thursday, he stopped into the shop and bought a few more outfits for Shayna.
Andy was napping that time, and she was busy with a new business owner who wanted to commission a design from her.
It would go on T-shirts for his employees.
That took precedence, so she wasn’t able to chat with Brogan long, but he and Renee drew every eye with their laughter.
Nearly every evening, he sent her a photo of the sunset, and a few times she sent him pics of the sunrise.
There was one she especially loved that showed Andy standing very still in the yard, silhouetted by the dawn as he stared at two deer near the water line.
That image had earned a lot of praise from Brogan.
Andy had even helped to inspire a new design when he’d looked at the pic with her, then lifted his hands and asked, “Baby?” as he so often did.
“I agree,” she said, loving the idea that popped into her head.
“We need Shayna in the pic.” That night, after Andy had fallen asleep, she’d stayed up late to fashion the image into a T-shirt design showing both kids as dark silhouettes—Andy sitting, Shayna on her tummy—staring out at beautiful Firefly Lake as a colorful background.
It was perfect and she couldn’t wait to show Brogan.
And Marlow, of course. She liked the design enough that she’d save it for the shop, assuming Marlow was interested, and Pixie knew she would be.
On Friday, he sent a pic of Shayna blowing spit bubbles—presumably for Andy—and they both loved it, so she texted back one of Andy with an enormous grin.
On Saturday, which should have been her day off, Pixie ended up opening the shop.
It was Renee’s turn to open, but her mother had come down with a bad cold, so Renee needed to make alternate plans for her kids.
Her husband had gone off to fish, but he was coming back.
That would take a few hours. By noon, Pixie and Andy would be heading home.
She’d have more than enough time to fix a wonderful meal.
Never before had she anticipated seeing anyone this much. She was in deep and she knew it.
She just didn’t know what to do about it.