What Makes A Father. Teresa Southwick
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Annie Campbell didn’t know exhaustion of this magnitude was even possible. Since suddenly becoming a mom to newborn twins three months ago, she’d been tired, but in the last week she’d counted sleep in seconds and minutes rather than hours. Either Charlie or Sarah was always awake, hungry, wet, crabby or crying uncontrollably for no apparent reason. Childhood had been challenging for Annie, but raising twins was the hardest thing she’d ever done.
And she wouldn’t trade being their mom for anything. With one toothless grin they had her wrapped around their little fingers. Now they had all the symptoms of teething—drooling, gnawing on their fists, crying—and Annie honestly wasn’t sure she’d survive it.
Her apartment was small, perfect for a single woman. Then she brought infants home from the hospital, forced by circumstances to care for two babies at once and too overwhelmed to look for a bigger place. And she was still overwhelmed. On a good day she could sneak in a shower. Today hadn’t been a good day but there were hopeful signs.
Sarah was quiet in the crib. Charlie was in her arms but she could feel him relaxing, possibly into sleep. Oh, please God. She would walk until her legs fell off if that’s what it took. With luck he’d go quietly in with his sister and Annie could close her eyes. To heck with a shower.
Slowly she did a circuit of the living room, past the bar that separated it from the kitchen, around the oak coffee table, gliding by the window that looked out on the center courtyard of the apartment complex. As the baby grew heavier in her arms, she could almost feel victory in her grasp, the euphoria of having two babies asleep at the same time.
Then some fool rang her doorbell. Charlie jerked awake and started to cry just on general principle. Sarah’s wails came from the bedroom.
“Someone is going to pay.” Annie cuddled the startled baby closer and kissed his head. “Not you, Charlie bear. You’re perfect. But if someone is selling something they’ll get more than they bargained for.”
She peeked through the front window and saw a man wearing military camouflage. This was probably daddy candidate number three, the last one on her sister’s list of men who might be the babies’ father. This had to be Mason Blackburne, the army doctor who’d been deployed to Afghanistan. She’d contacted him by email and he’d claimed he’d get back to her right away when he returned to the States. She hadn’t expected that he actually would.
In her experience, men were selfish, hurtful and unreliable. His written response was a brush-off any idiot would see. Except maybe not since he was standing outside. Not to be picky, but the least he could have done was call first. Come to think of it, how did he get her address? She’d only given him her phone number in the email. Apparently she was taking too long because he followed up the doorbell ring with an aggressive knock.
The chain locking the door was in place so she opened it just a crack. “Your timing sucks.”
“Annie Campbell? I’m Mason Blackburne.”
“I gave you my number. You were supposed to call me. How did you get my address?”
“From Jessica.”
Pain sliced through Annie when she heard her sister’s name. Jess had died shortly after giving birth to the twins. The joy of welcoming her niece and nephew into the world turned to unimaginable grief at losing the person Annie loved most in the world. Her sister had lived with her off and on, couch surfing when she needed somewhere to stay. She didn’t trust men in general any more than Annie, so if she’d given the address to this guy, her gut must have said he was okay.
Annie unlocked the door and opened it. For the first time she got a good look at Mason Blackburne. Two things stood out: he was tall, and his eyes were startlingly blue. And he was boyishly handsome. Okay, that was three things, but she was too tired to care. And some part of her worn-out brain was regretting that her hair was in a messy ponytail because she hadn’t washed it. Or showered today. Or put on makeup. And she was wearing baggy sweatpants and an oversize T-shirt.
“Come in,” she said, stepping back. “I’ve got a DNA swab right here. Just rub it on the inside of each cheek for thirty seconds and put it back in the tube. I’ll send it to the lab with the other one and the results will be back in five business days.”
But it wasn’t clear whether or not he’d heard her. The guy was staring at Charlie. The baby had stopped crying and was staring suspiciously back at the tall stranger. And he was sucking his thumb. The baby, not the stranger.
She sighed. “Well, baby boy, now all my extensive research into the best pacifier on the planet to prevent thumb-sucking is down the tubes. Somewhere an orthodontist is doing the dance of joy.”
Mason had a look of awe on his face. “What’s his name?”
“Charlie.”
“Did Jessica choose that?”
“No, she didn’t get a chance. But she’d narrowed down the choices to Christopher and Charles. Sarah was always the top girls’ name.”
He looked past her to the hallway where the baby girl was still crying. “Can I see her?”
Annie wanted to say no. She didn’t know this guy from a rock, but again, Jess didn’t normally share her address with men and she’d given it to him. So maybe it was okay.
After closing the front door, she headed for the hallway with daddy candidate number three following. The master bedroom and bath were on the right, and across from it was her office, now the twins’ nursery.
“She’s in here. And before you ask, they share the crib. The pediatrician advised not separating them just yet.”
“Because they shared quarters for nine months,” he said.
“Exactly.” They walked into the room where the crib was on the wall opposite her desk. “She probably needs her diaper changed. I’ll have to put Charlie down since I haven’t yet figured out how to do it one-handed. Fair warning—he’s going to cry.”
“Could I hold him?”
Annie’s gaze snapped to his face. “Why?”
“You need help. And he might be my son.” There was an edge to his voice and intensity in his eyes that made her think it really mattered to him.
Annie thought it over. This guy might be Charlie’s father. Why not push him into the deep end of the pool, let him know what he was getting into. She held Charlie out to him and he took the baby, a little awkwardly.
Annie walked over to the crib and lowered the side rail. She picked up the little girl to comfort her first. “It’s okay, Sarah. You’re fine. I’m here, sweet girl. I have to put you down again, just for a minute to change that diaper. Trust me on this. You’ll feel a lot better.”
Three months ago the top of her lateral file cabinet had become the storage area for diaper supplies. She settled the baby back in the crib and quickly swapped the wet diaper for a dry one, then picked her up again for a snuggle.
“What happened to Jessica?” He looked away from the baby and met her gaze.
“I told you in the email. She had a pulmonary embolism, a blood clot in her—”
“Lung. I’m a doctor. I get it. But why didn’t she let me know she was pregnant? And that I might be the father of the baby—” He stopped and his gaze settled on Sarah. “Babies?”
“I told her more than once that the biological father had a right to know. Even though I suggested she let the guy screw up first, she was convinced that he would desert her anyway. She planned to raise them by herself.”
“Why would she think that?” There was a tinge of exasperation and outrage in his tone.
“She had her reasons.”
His