old her. Six months later when they got married, he promptly quit his dead-end job to join the family business. She soon learned work always came first.
“Is Tom your boyfriend?” Macy curled their fingers together.
The questions had begun. Stephanie stroked Macy’s hair and inhaled the scent of fruity shampoo, so innocent and sweet. “No, no, nothing like that. We were friends a long time ago. He heard we were in an accident and wanted to make sure we were okay.”
“Oh. Why didn’t Grandpa come?”
“Grandpa didn’t know. Remember, he’s in Florida now.”
“I miss him. Let’s go see him.”
“That’s the plan, toots. Less than a year and we’ll be living with Grandpa again. We can go to the beach every day. No snow. No cold. Just sunshine.”
“Yay! I can’t wait to live with Grandpa again.”
“I know. I can’t, either.” As soon as she finished her degree, she and Macy were moving back in with her dad. They’d lived with him in Petoskey until last year when he retired and bought a condo in Miami. She and Macy almost joined him, but Western University offered her a full scholarship only available to single mothers, and the University of Miami wouldn’t give her any financial aid.
Dad had offered to pay, but he couldn’t afford expensive tuition on his fixed income. Besides, Stephanie had foolishly thought she needed to be independent, that it would be good for her to raise Macy on her own.
She hadn’t realized how difficult it would be.
Things would be easier in Miami. She could build a nice life there. Dad would help watch Macy while she worked toward her master’s degree.
Except she’d made the plans before she’d factored Tom into her future...
Macy yawned, and Stephanie hummed. Maybe Macy would fall asleep early. Stacks of folders, books and binders waited on the dining table.
She was tired of homework. And the rush, rush of each day. Get up, shower, slap some makeup on, get Macy dressed, throw a bagel in the toaster, race to day care, then to work. Classes three afternoons. Pick Macy up, stop at the store and spend fifteen minutes trying to figure out dinner, read a picture book, homework, guilt trip about not playing dolls and pass out in bed.
Stephanie closed her eyes a moment. Her life hadn’t always been this hectic. The first months of marriage had been downright leisurely. She’d quit college right after getting engaged. With no real career goals and a low GPA from dropped classes, there didn’t seem to be much point. And she’d had Tom to provide for her.
Ambitious. Driven.
But he’d been tender, protective and...
Absent.
No. No. No.
Pointless to entertain these feelings. Better to focus on the present.
Macy’s breaths came in even intervals, so Stephanie carried her to the bedroom, tucked her in and plodded back to the dining room. Her ribs started aching again.
What to tackle first? The spreadsheet or the research paper? She pressed her fingers against her side, pulled a chair out, propped her elbows on the table and let her chin fall to her cradled hands. Who could focus on a stupid report after seeing him? The man she’d loved, the one she’d vowed to spend the rest of her life with. For better or for worse.
She’d been such a fool at twenty-one. If she had poured her energy into Tom instead of—well, she didn’t want to think about it—maybe she wouldn’t have had to spend the previous years alone, broke and exhausted.
But then there was the God factor. Maybe being at her lowest had finally allowed her to put her hope in Him. How many times had she read in Romans that God works for the good of those who love Him? And how many times did she have to remind herself she didn’t have to earn His goodness? It was there for her simply because she trusted in Jesus as her Savior.
With the Lord’s help, she’d create a future worthy of Macy.
Now that Tom was in the picture, how would their lives be affected? She hadn’t been sure he’d want to be a father—a real father—to Macy. But he obviously did. Could she count on him to be involved in Macy’s life, or would he come and go as it suited him?
He’d stood Stephanie up for countless dates during their brief marriage. How many meals had she eaten alone? When she married Tom, she’d never guessed he’d treat her the way her own mother did—unimportant. An accessory to his life.
It hurt. She squeezed her eyes shut. Still hurt.
If Tom wanted to be a father, he’d better commit all the way. If he broke Macy’s heart...
She was getting ahead of herself. She didn’t know his plans. Besides, Macy deserved to know who her dad was. But how should they break the news to her? And when?
* * *
“What do you mean you have a daughter?” Dad stopped pacing and spun to face Tom.
“What I said. I have a daughter.” Tom extended his arm across the back of the tan couch. He’d called Dad and driven straight to Granddad’s cottage from McDonald’s. “Imagine how I felt coming home from my run and finding Stephanie, all bruised up, on my porch.”
“A car accident, you said? She’s okay?”
“Yeah.”
Dad shook his head slowly, opened his mouth to speak, shut it and snapped his attention to Tom. “I’m a grandfather.”
“You sure are.”
“I have a granddaughter.” Wonder filled his tone. Tom nodded, completely understanding his father’s reaction. “Before I get too ahead of myself, Tommy, we need to consider a few things. I don’t know how to put this...but given what you told us about...well, you know, how can you be sure the girl is yours?”
“I’m sure. Stephanie didn’t cheat on me. I refused to believe her back then, told myself she wanted a future with that other guy, but I was wrong.” Tom crossed to the large picture window with its endless views of the lake lined with evergreens. The familiar landscape of his childhood grounded him. Filled him with resolve he’d lacked earlier. “Macy looks just like me. Undeniable. The eyes. She’s mine.”
“She’s got the Sheffield eyes? Imagine that.” Dad jingled his key ring. His Carhartt jacket, faded baggy jeans and work boots gave him the appearance of a man in his early fifties, not his midsixties. Even his thick silver hair didn’t age him. The man projected energy in motion at all times. “How old did you say she was?”
“Four.” Tom wiped his hand over the back of his neck. The rawness of his discovery had choked him up off and on for the past hour.
“I’m sorry, Tommy. This must be hard to take in. Are you happy about it? At all?”
The concern in his eyes strangled Tom’s throat even more. He coughed. “Yeah, Dad, I’m happy. I mean, a daughter—my daughter. It’s...hard to describe. When I looked at her face and saw how small and cute she was, all I wanted to do was pick her up, buy her the contents of a toy store and protect her from everything that could hurt her. I can’t explain. It was instant.”
“Good. That’s the way it’s meant to be.” Dad nodded. “What did you say her name was?”
“Macy.”
“Macy.” Dad tilted his head to the side. “You know she needs you, right? She needs her father.”
“I know.” The revelations had worn him out, and Tom returned to the couch, his legs splaying and his neck falling back against the cushions. “I still can’t believe Stephanie kept this from me.”
“I can’t, either.” Dad perched on the arm of the chair.
“How