that angle before. His apprehension lightened. “But it’s hard.”
“I know. It is hard. Spending time with your ex-wife is hard.”
“I worry— Never mind.” Spending time with Stephanie was difficult because she reminded him of the dreams he’d tucked away. Before they got married, he’d had a plan. Make the dealership a success, buy a house, start a family. Except he’d failed. He jerked his head to the side. The sun warmed his face. He didn’t dare say what he was thinking out loud.
Claire touched his arm. “Are you worried about her hurting you again?”
How did Claire always cut to the heart of it?
He nodded.
“Tommy, Aunt Sally once asked me if I believed I’m always divinely guided, and I told her yes. Do you know what she said to me after?”
He shook his head.
“She told me I would always take the right turn in the road. I believe that. Now you’ll have to ask yourself the same question.”
The clouds feathered across the sky as he pondered what she said. Divinely guided, yes. But did he always take the right turn in the road? No. He’d made too many wrong turns to believe it.
“I was kind of glad Stephanie suggested taking it slow. I’m not ready to be alone with my own kid. I have no idea what little girls like to do, what they need, what they eat. I’m clueless, Claire.” Plus, he was drawn to Stephanie, not that he’d ever admit it. Would he get lost in another thankless relationship with her? Where he’d end up the loser again?
She laughed. “You’re going to be great. Macy will love you. Just take lots of notes on how Stephanie handles things. And when you’re in doubt, ask Macy what she likes.”
He didn’t voice the other concern spinning around his head. What if he spent time with them and realized he was a terrible dad? That Macy was better off without him in her life?
“Something else is on your mind,” Claire said. “I can see it.”
She knew him well, but he wasn’t ready to confide in her. “I finally got the guts to sign up for something I’d been thinking about for years, and this situation could end it.”
“You’re not going to quit training. This race is too important to you, so don’t even go there. We’ll keep you on track. And I get you’d be nervous about...this situation—about Stephanie. You don’t have to explain. You sprinted through the whole relationship, and she’s, what, five years younger than you? You two weren’t ready for marriage, and it’s not as if you’re dating again—you’re spending time together so you can be the dad you were meant to be.”
The words sprinkled over him, shedding a layer of guilt he’d thought he’d eliminated. “Thanks, Claire.” Hanging out with Stephanie and Macy would give him the skills he needed to be a good father. He’d have to keep reminding himself.
And if not?
He wouldn’t think about it. He’d be a good parent. Period.
Claire grinned. “You realize what this means, right?”
He frowned. “No clue.”
“You’re going to have to break the news to Aunt Sally she won’t be meeting Macy yet.”
* * *
“Come on.” Stephanie pulled Macy by the hand through the parking lot of Johnson’s Pumpkin Patch Saturday afternoon. Cars and trucks crawled along the lane until a flagger directed them to park in a field. She scurried through the couples as best as she could.
Boy, it was busy. Laughter, conversation and the occasional squeal punctured the festive atmosphere. Attracted to the sweetness of the nearby apple trees, bees swarmed about the picnic tables she passed. The sun shone hot on her face, and she drank in the aroma of homemade doughnuts. Cinnamon. Her stomach grumbled.
Macy’s hand began to slip from her fingers, but she gripped it tighter. “We’re late, so please walk faster.”
“Why are we meeting him here, Mommy?” Macy whined, each step deliberately slow. Her sling tapped against her little chest to the rhythm of their movements. “Why didn’t we come, just us?”
Stephanie inwardly sighed. Between working full-time, all the hours spent at school, then hunching over homework each evening, she understood why Macy clung to her when they were together. Even when they went to the park, Macy never ran off to play with other kids. She wanted her mom all to herself.
“Because it’s good to have friends.” Stephanie beamed. Maybe her lame answer would put a stop to more questions. If the guilt about not telling Tom was bad, the guilt about not giving Macy a father was worse.
“Don’t want no more friends.” Macy’s knees inched higher as she marched.
“Don’t be silly. Everyone wants friends. You like Tatum at preschool, right? And Josie at day care.”
Macy dug her heels in and yanked back. Now what?
“You don’t need more friends. You have me.” Her glistening eyes pleaded with Stephanie.
She knelt and tweaked Macy’s nose. “Of course I have you. And we’re best friends. But I’m your mom, too. And we both can have other friends.”
“I don’t like him.” Her lower lip bulged.
“Why not?” Why would Macy already not like Tom? She’d seemed fine with him at McDonald’s.
In her pink fleece jacket and pigtails riding high on her head, Macy bobbed her chin and scrunched her face up into a major pout. “I’m not going.”
Stephanie straightened. Not now. A temper tantrum when they were already running late? Couldn’t one thing in her life be easy? Just once?
“You are going.” She put her stern tone on. “This isn’t your decision. We’re meeting Tom here, picking out pumpkins, and you will use your manners.”
Macy stomped her foot.
“That is unacceptable, Macy. Do you hear me?”
Macy’s nose soared, defiance radiating out of her.
Patience. Give me patience.
Might be time for a change of tactic. An act of desperation, surely, and not one any parenting expert would condone, but something had to be done. “I thought you wanted a doughnut. If you forget your manners, you will not get one.”
“I want a doughnut!” Macy’s eyes widened.
“Well, then, you’ll have to behave.”
A moment passed before Macy sighed. “Yes, Mommy.”
Stephanie reached for her hand again. They hustled toward the big barn converted to a country store. Macy oohed over an orange cat running by, and Stephanie craned her neck to see through the clusters of people. Tom’s tall, athletic frame rounded the corner, and her pulse thumped, then sped up. His easy smile? Just like when they first met. In a navy blue pullover and jeans, he attracted several female stares, yet he appeared oblivious to the admiration. She tightened her hold around Macy’s hand.
“Ouch, Mommy.”
“Sorry.” All worked up over six feet of strapping male. And why not? They’d been good together, once upon a time.
He squatted in front of Macy, grinned and held out his hand. “I believe we met already, Miss Macy. How are you doing today? Are you ready to pick out a pumpkin?”
Macy hesitated, but she eventually shook his hand, her eyes stony.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you like pumpkins?” He righted himself to a standing position.
Stephanie nudged her.
“They’re