Sam jostled between them. “I think.”
Libby bumped Sam to the side. “Are you kidding me? I am this close—” she held her finger and thumb a sliver away from each other “—to hunting Stephanie down and telling her what I think—”
“Libby.” Jake tugged on her arm. “Not the time or place.”
She clamped her mouth shut, eyelashes reaching to the ceiling. “Fine.”
Aunt Sally threw her arms around Tom. Then she stepped back and placed her hands on his cheeks, her dangling pumpkin earrings jingling as she grinned. “I’m thanking God extra tonight that He’s led you to your baby. What a blessing.”
The truth of her statement hit him like a kettlebell to the chest. “It is a blessing, isn’t it?”
“The circumstances are less than ideal. I know. I know.” She patted his cheek. “I’ve had bitter times. They can eat away at your soul. As hard as it might be, I hope you’ll try to focus on the positive. What’s the little sweetheart’s name?”
“Macy.”
“Macy,” she said, tears forming in her eyes. “What a pretty name. I’m going shopping tomorrow to buy her some outfits.” She drew her palms together. “I’ll just guess at the sizes.”
“She’s four and about this tall.” Tom held his hand above his knee. “If that helps.”
She winked. “It does.”
A yank on his arm got his attention. Claire. “Come on.” She pulled him out to the deck, where the sun had dropped to a glowing mound on the horizon.
Bryan followed them. “Is this a private conversation?” Attitude cut through each word.
Tom’s jaw tightened as he peered at Claire, concerned, then Bryan, livid. “Don’t act like a baby.” He stalked over to the deck rail and peered out at the darkening sky. “I don’t know what to do.”
The sliding door swooshed, and Libby and Sam joined them.
“Of all the rotten things she did to you, this is the worst. I’m shocked, but I shouldn’t be.” Libby drew herself to her full height and shook her head.
“Libby,” Claire warned.
“What?” She turned to Tom. “What if she’s trying to milk you for child support?”
“She didn’t even want me to know.”
“Oh, that’s so much better.”
“Shut up, Libby,” Bryan said.
“Tell us about your daughter.” Claire’s smile was encouraging.
Tom stretched his neck to one side, then the other. He might as well get the basics out of the way. “She’s four. Looks just like me. She’s smart, too. Maybe even a genius.”
“I can’t wait to meet her,” Claire said.
“Since no one else is willing to state the obvious, I will.” Libby jutted her chin out. “Why now? Why did Stephanie decide to tell you today? After all this time? I’ll tell you why. Money. Or babysitting. She’s going to start calling you nonstop, wanting you to watch the kid for her. And then she’ll want you back.”
Libby was wrong. Whatever Stephanie wanted wasn’t free babysitting or child support. But Libby did raise a good point. What were Stephanie’s expectations for him as a father? He wanted to spend time getting to know his daughter—gradually. His training schedule didn’t leave much room. After Christmas, he’d really have to kick it in gear with swimming at the Y and adding miles to his runs each week.
What was he thinking? No race was worth more than his daughter.
Slipping back into mediocrity already.
Not fair. Who said he couldn’t be a dad and have a life? He’d find a way to get to know Macy and train for the race.
“Stephanie wasn’t an ogre, Libby.” Claire steepled her fingers, keeping her tone even. “She made mistakes. We all do.”
“But her mistakes hurt Tommy.” Libby crossed her arms over her chest.
Tom held his hands up. “I don’t know why she finally told me.” The words weren’t easier to say this time. “The accident shook her up. It’s no secret we weren’t right for each other.” Or, rather, he wasn’t right for her. How many times had he replayed their relationship in his mind, trying to figure out how he could have done it all differently?
“That’s a bunch of baloney.” Libby shook her head. “Half the women in this county would rob the Snack-N-Go to have a shot at marrying you. She blew it.”
“I blew it, too, Libs.” It was the first time he’d admitted it out loud. Over the years, he’d accepted his responsibility in their divorce, but he’d never told anyone. Stephanie’s confession gave him the courage to make his own. “She wasn’t the only one to blame. You know the saying ‘It takes two’? In our case, it’s true.”
The breeze made a shushing noise in the trees, and Bryan moved to stand beside him. “What are you going to do now?”
Tom lifted one shoulder. “I don’t know.”
“You fighting for custody?” Bryan asked.
“I’m not going to walk away, if that’s what you’re asking. But I...don’t know.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Claire said. “You’ll be a terrific dad.”
“You know what this means,” Sam said. “You’ll be in Stephanie’s life again.”
Tom fought a wave of helplessness, the same feeling that kept gushing up when he thought about spending time with Macy. Sam was right. He wouldn’t be able to avoid Stephanie. Was he ready to be a part of her life again? Especially not as her husband? What if she was dating someone? He had limits, and being a bystander to his ex-wife’s love life went way beyond them. Seeing her again, being near her...messed with his resolve to protect his heart.
“Hey.” Claire placed her hand on his sleeve. “Don’t worry. I’m going to pray hard for you. I’m upset you’re finding out about Macy now, but you’re a dad. That’s good! I can’t wait to meet this little girl. I know she’ll be fabulous. She has our genes, right?”
He straightened, not knowing what to say. Dusk blanketed them, and lights across the lake popped on, reflecting thin beams zigzagging on the water. Each of his siblings’ faces turned to him with varying expressions. Claire, tender and concerned. Sam, indifferent. Libby, skeptical, and Bryan, fierce.
“Whatever you need,” Claire said. “We’re here for you.”
His phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked the number. Didn’t recognize it. “Hello?”
“Tom?” Stephanie’s voice rang through. “Do you think you could come over tomorrow?”
* * *
Tom pressed the intercom and shifted the enormous white stuffed rabbit complete with pink bow to his other arm. The old apartment complex a mile from campus didn’t exactly look seedy, but brown paint peeled from the exterior, bare spots riddled the patches of grass and potholes and cracks dismembered the pavement. He shifted his jaw. College students didn’t mill about—a relief—but the junky cars had him questioning the neighbors. Was his daughter safe living here? Was Stephanie?
The door buzzed, and he stepped inside. Soiled, worn indoor/outdoor carpet greeted him. A half flight of stairs stood at his right, a hallway with closed doors to his left. The scent of laundry detergent mingled with spices—foreign, curry? He climbed the stairs, turned, jogged up another set and landed on the third floor.
Stephanie ushered him inside. “Thanks for coming.” She dead-bolted the door