A Mother For His Adopted Son. Lynne Marshall
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gone cold. Can I refill yours?” He scooped up his cup and took hers when she offered it to him, then headed for the kitchen. Surprisingly, she followed along in her bare feet. He liked it that she’d made herself at home.
He put their cups on the kitchen counter, and as he turned on the front burner to heat the teapot, he felt her expectant gaze. He glanced over his shoulder and found her still smiling at him, so he smiled back, letting her warmth pass through him. If they kept up this goofy grinning, things could get awkward.
“It’s really obvious you’re a good and loving father.”
“I don’t know how true that is, but he deserves no less.” He kept busy, opening and closing drawers and cabinets, but talked freely.
Something about her easygoing and encouraging style helped him open up. “You know my greatest fear is that Dani might lose his other eye. They say the odds are low with a single retinoblastoma, but having gone through this with him I guess I’m still afraid it could happen again. And the kid so doesn’t deserve any of this.” He bit back his frustration.
Andrea kept quiet, cuing him to keep talking, so he did. “No matter what happens, my goal is to make as normal a life as possible for Dani.”
“I can tell how much you care about him.” She folded her hands on the quartz surface, and he thought the counter was high for her stature. She’d need a little stool to wash dishes at this sink. The thought tickled him and made the corner of his mouth quirk, imagining her standing on a stool in his kitchen, washing plates. So domestic, so different than the artistic impression she gave. Where had that thought come from?
She couldn’t be more than five feet, but what a powerhouse. She’d probably never be caught dead washing dishes for a guy. He sensed she’d never let anyone take advantage of her. She sure as hell hadn’t let him that day. Thinking back to her stern father, he was sure she’d probably had to grow a steel spine to survive. Yeah, no way she’d be a happy dishwasher.
He poured them both more tea and they sat at the kitchen table, and because she was so easy to be around, and seemed so sympathetic toward Dani, he decided to really open up. “I’m afraid people will look at Dani and pity him, which, by the way, you absolutely didn’t do. Thanks for that.”
She dipped her head and blinked slowly, then took a sip of her tea, so serious. “I’ve had a lot of practice with our clientele.”
“I’m sure you have.” He sipped, but the tea was too hot, so he put the cup on the table. “I also worry that other kids will be curious about his fake eye and make him self-conscious.”
“I think all kids are self-conscious about something.”
A quick flash of him being around seven or eight and having to wear faded thrift-store shirts that didn’t fit to school, because that was all his mother could afford, reminded him firsthand about self-consciousness.
“The thing is, I don’t want him to slip into the mindset of feeling inferior. That could set the tone for the rest of his life. I’d hate for that to happen.” He’d been fighting those feelings his entire life, and he’d obviously said something to move Andrea, because she leaned forward and her hand cupped his forearm and tightened.
“I’m going to make the most perfect eye ever for him. The other kids won’t even notice.”
“Then it’ll be my job to teach him to be totally independent, not afraid to try things.” His crazy, lovable foster family came to mind. “Hell, if he takes after any of his new uncles, he’ll give me gray hair before my time.”
“I think your plan is perfect. Dani’s a lucky boy to have you as his father. By the way, is that your family in that big picture?”
He considered the Murphys his family, especially after he’d been taken away from his mother at ten and she’d officially given him up when he’d been twelve—which had hurt like nothing he’d ever experienced before and could never be matched until Katie had walked away— and they’d kept him until he’d been eighteen, then sent him off to college.
“Yep. The big clan, circa 1990. I was around ten in that one.”
“Ah, you were the middle brother. I thought I recognized you.” She laughed lightly, and he was glad she’d taken the time to look at his family picture, but didn’t feel like going into the complicated explanation of who they really were. He hardly knew her. He’d let her think what he let the rest of the world think—he’d come from a big, happy family.
“Yeah, try being in the middle of four daredevil brothers. Those guys were tough acts to follow. Probably why I went into medicine.” His professional choice had also been part of his determination to prove the positive impact fostering could have. It had been his way of giving something back. But she didn’t need to know that, either.
She smiled and he grinned back. He found his smiles coming more often and easier, spending time with her. It felt good.
“I can only imagine.” She went quiet.
They sat in silence for a while, him in deep thought about the responsibilities of being a single father, about how his parents had taught by example the importance of routine and stability in every kid’s life, and having no clue what Andrea was ruminating about. Soon the tea was gone and she stood.
“Time to go?” How could he blame her? He’d gone quiet after the topic of his family had come up, then had gotten all maudlin about his lack of parental skills. Great company. Who’d want to stick around for more of that?
“Yes. I want to get an early start on my project tomorrow.”
He stood now, too. “I’m really glad you’re doing it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you’re not nearly as bad as I originally thought.” They laughed together, and it lightened the shifting mood. He wanted that earlier ease back between them.
“Oh, yes, the impertinent ocularist strikes again,” she teased. “But I could have sworn you started it.”
“I was uptight. Give me a break.”
He could tell from the benign look on her face that she was indeed giving him a break, that she totally understood, especially now having met Dani, and he truly appreciated that.
They headed for the family room, where her tackle box and backpack had been left, Dani’s silicone cast safely tucked inside. “And I had no idea what you’d just been through.” With the backpack over one shoulder she faced him, an earnest expression softening her serious face. “Please forgive me for being rude to you that day.”
“I’ve already forgotten. Besides, after the way you and Dani became fast friends tonight, I kind of have to.”
That got another smile and a breath of a laugh out of her.
He walked her to the door and allowed one quick thought about how great she looked in those black slacks and the pale blue sweater hugging her curves. It was so much better than those faded scrubs and that frumpy white lab coat.
They said good-night, and he asked when he’d need to bring Dani in for reshaping of the wax mold she planned to make.
“I’ll be in touch,” she said, “as soon as possible, I promise.”
“Then I’ll take you at your word.”
They said their goodbyes. He closed the door and scratched his chin and let his mind wonder about the possibility of something more working out between him and the perky ocularist. That was a first since Katie, too, and a good thing. Wasn’t it about time to start dating again? For an instant he realized how single mothers must feel, wondering if a man wanted to get involved with a lady with kids. Was that how it worked the other way around? Would it matter to Andrea, as it had mattered to Katie, that he was an adoptive father?
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