Chapter nine #3
She chuckles. “I know. I forgot how intense that feels. It’s been so long since I had Chase. It’s all coming back to me with each milestone.”
“Shouldn’t we find out the sex at the next appointment?” I ask. “You’ll be sixteen weeks then.”
“We can, if the baby cooperates.” She licks her lips and tilts her head up at me. “Do you want to know?”
“I mean, I think it would make it easier to plan. What do you want?”
She rubs her stomach, the small bump now more noticeable to me after seeing it during the ultrasound. And fuck, it just makes her sexier. “I don’t know. Part of me thinks it would be fun to wait, but the control freak in me doesn’t think I could.”
We share a laugh. “Okay, we’ll find out then. I think it would ease some of the stress of the unknown.”
“Okay.”
“What about circumcision?”
“Um…”
“Well, if it’s a boy, I don’t want him battling with a turtleneck for the rest of his life, you know?” I say jokingly, but I’m actually serious. “You know that I’m circumcised, but…”
She holds a hand up. “No need to go any further. I agree, okay?”
I nod. “Good, but I don’t think I could be in the room for that. I just might be the one to throw up if that’s the case.”
She covers her mouth, laughing. “Am I going to have to worry about you getting sick throughout this whole pregnancy?”
“No, just with that.” I visibly shudder and resist the urge to reach down and cover my dick.
“Normally, the father should be concerned about the mother throwing up.”
“I am.” I reach out and stroke her arm, catching her off guard. But I retract my touch just as quickly.
Small steps, Grady.
Clearing my throat, I take my keys out of my pocket. “Okay then. Well…”
“Yeah.” She brushes her curls back from her face. “I need to get back to work.”
“I’ll see you later though, right?” I ask.
“Yeah. I’ll have Chase there by six.”
Nodding, I start walking to my truck backwards, keeping my eyes on Scottie. “Keep growing our baby, Scottie,” I say as primitive pleasure races through me.
She rolls her eyes at me. “Like I have a choice.”
Yeah, you do, Scottie. You have the choice to let me in, I say to myself.
And as I drive back to the garage, I think about how I need to make her see that. But I know that I can’t figure this out on my own.
Operation Get My Baby’s Momma to Give Me a Chance is underway, and it’s time to call in reinforcements.
***
“We can talk more about it on Friday,” my sister says through the phone as I sit in the office of the garage, waiting for Scottie and Chase to show up.
Astrid insisted that I call her today after the doctor’s appointment and let her know how it went, but I barely got two free seconds after returning to the garage before I had to help a few of the technicians with their jobs.
“Okay. I’m gonna hold you to that, though.”
She chuckles. “I promise. I just have to get this order done before I leave here, and the phone is still ringing with last minute orders.”
Easter is this week, so the bakery is swamped. “Okay, see you at Lilly’s dance class.”
“Thanks again for taking her.”
“Not a problem.”
We end the call and I toss my phone on the counter in front of me, letting out a long sigh.
My niece takes dance classes two nights a week, and occasionally, my sister asks me to take her until she can get there to pick her up.
I don’t mind. Hell, I actually love watching my favorite little girl in the world twirl around in a tutu.
But now I realize that being a dance dad might just be in my future.
If we have a little girl, will she be interested in dance? Or will she be a tomboy I can teach how to throw and hit a baseball better than any boy her age? If we have a son, will he love the game like I did, or will he prefer football or video games?
Will my child be shy or outgoing? Quiet or loud?
Visions swirl through my mind at an alarming rate, accompanied by the memory of what my baby looked like on the screen just hours ago.
The sound of a car door slamming shut outside interrupts my thoughts, and I stand from the chair to peek through the blinds.
Scottie is saying something to Chase as they walk up to the garage, and Chase looks less than pleased to be here. By the time I’m done with him, he won’t be any happier.
The chime above the door rings out. “Grady?”
“Right here,” I reply instantly, startling her as Chase remains close to the door.
Her hand flies to cover her chest. “Jesus.”
“Sorry.” I move to the other side of the counter. “Chase.” I tip my chin at him, but he doesn’t acknowledge me. Funny how now that we’re not at a baseball field or his house, his demeanor has changed.
I hate that my first encounter with this kid went down the way it did, especially given circumstances between Scottie and me now.
I know things would be easier if he liked me, if we could see eye to eye.
But I think about how I’d feel if he were my kid and did what he did.
I think about how I’m now this kid’s coach.
I think about the kind of role I play in his life beyond the next few weeks or months.
We have to find a middle ground, and I hope we find it soon.
“Chase, don’t be rude.”
“Coach,” he says with no emotion.
“I’m Grady here, Chase. I’m your mom’s friend and the man who you owe work to, all right? At practice, I’m your coach, but not here.”
His shoulders relax a bit, which makes me wonder if he thinks his debt will translate to the baseball field as well. I know Ryan worked these boys hard the other night, but I told him afterward that Chase will get the bulk of his punishment working with me.
Chase simply nods before I turn my eyes back to Scottie.
And fuck, does she look beautiful. Each time I see her, the desire to make her mine intensifies. “When should I pick him up?”
I glance at the clock on the wall. “Two hours should be good. I’m gonna have him work outside until it gets dark, then move into the garage to scrub some parts.”
She nods. “Sounds good.” Turning back to her son, she says sternly, “Listen to Grady and do whatever he tells you to do, got it?”
“Yeah.” His eyes never leave the ground.
Sighing, she looks back at me. “Thank you. See you in a bit.” But then she gets as close as she can before whispering, “Remember, he doesn’t know about…” Her eyes flick down to her stomach and back up, pleading with me.
“I know.”
“I’ll tell him, I promise. I just…”
I grab her hand and squeeze it. “It’s okay. One thing at a time.”
She flashes me a tight-lipped smile, one I wish would reach her eyes. But this day has been a roller coaster of emotions, so I can’t blame her for being apprehensive, especially since she’s leaving her son with me.
Once Scottie leaves, the silence between Chase and me grows louder by the second. I clear my throat and move to open the door leading to the garage. “Follow me.”
The lights are still on inside, but I head toward the back where I store some garden tools and other items I use regularly. Metal hooks on the wall hold rakes, shovels, and clippers for yard work. For the next few weeks, that’s what Chase will be responsible for.
“I told your mom the yard needs some TLC, so that’s where you’re going to start.”
He grumbles, “Whatever.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes at his attitude, one he didn’t dare give me on the baseball field earlier this week, and instead hand him a rake and a hula hoe, motioning for him to follow me outside.
“Weeds. They never stop growing here, especially in the spring. You need to clean them out.” I gesture to the field in front of us, a good thousand square feet covered in weeds that are almost to my knees.
“All of these?”
“Yup.” I pat him on the shoulder. “You won’t get it done today, so you can finish over your next few shifts here.”
“This sucks,” he grumbles, stalking away from me, dragging the hula hoe behind him.
“Yeah, well so does the dent in the hood of my car.” He glares at me over his shoulder but doesn’t say anything in return. “I’ll be in the garage doing some paperwork. You can stop at dark.”
Chase gets to work, pushing the hula hoe through the dirt, anger fueling his movements. And as I watch him, I see it—all of the irritation lurking beneath the surface, an anger that I recognize and have lived with for several years, mostly since I lost baseball.
I was irritable as a teenager too. Especially during games, when I saw other dads cheering on their sons, knowing mine would never do the same. And I wonder if that’s true for Chase as well?
Scottie told me she’s divorced, and it wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out since her last name changed.
But if she moved her son to Carrington Cove, where the hell is this kid’s dad?
I know if Scottie took my kid and left the state, I’d be scouring every square inch of land looking for them both.
Shaking my head, I walk back toward the garage, wondering if I should dig deeper into her marriage to understand why it ended.
The last thing I want to do is repeat history, for her or myself.
I don’t want to become a man Scottie can’t count on.
I don’t want my son or daughter to grow up in a divided family.
I glance over my shoulder at the angry boy pulling weeds from the dirt. I don’t want him to feel like another man is entering his life only to leave it eventually.
I wait as long as I can until there’s barely a sliver of daylight left in the sky before I head out to where Chase is working. I expect to see his energy level sated, for him to be covered in sweat, but much to my surprise, he’s not working on the weeds.
He’s practicing his pitching stance, winding up before throwing an imaginary baseball at the corner of the yard.
“You’re leaning too far forward,” I say, startling him.
“No I’m not.”
“You sure about that?”
He reaches down, picks up the hula hoe, and starts working again as if we weren’t in the middle of a conversation.
“You know I could teach you a few things…”
“I don’t need your help.”