The Daughter He Wanted. Kristina Knight
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tumbled to the soft earth beneath the swings.
“Oh, no,” Paige said, stepping forward. But Alex’s hand on her wrist stopped her.
“Wait.”
Who was he to tell her to wait? She couldn’t wait. Her baby just fell three feet to the hard ground.
Kaylie stood up again, dusted off her behind and shoved her hair away from her face. She looked up at the trapeze as if it betrayed her and then stomped away from the swing set toward them. She beetled her brows, mumbling to herself and looking back to the swings.
Paige caught her daughter in her arms. “You okay, baby?”
“It wasn’t supposed to move.”
“What wasn’t supposed to move?” Alex knelt beside them in the grass.
“The hand swinger. It was s’posed to stay still.” She wriggled out of Paige’s too-tight grasp. “I told it I’d come back later but only if it promises to stay still.” Kaylie shot another glance toward the trapeze, swinging lightly in the breeze. “Only if it stays still,” she enunciated each word in her angry, four-year-old voice and continued to Alison’s deck. “I need juice,” she called and pushed open the sliding glass door to the kitchen.
Paige put her hand to her heart. “She’s okay. I thought I might have lost about a year off my life there for a second.”
Alex chuckled beside her. “If you lost one, I think I lost five.” He angled his head toward the deck. “Can I buy you a glass of tea for your nerves?” he joked.
Paige shook her head. “I need more than tea after that.”
“Anything for Supergirl’s mom.”
“Princess Amidala, thank you very much.”
Alex put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. Paige couldn’t resist a lean-in, just for a second. A hint of sandalwood that she recognized as him tickled her nose and she forced herself away before she could turn her head into his chest and take a deep breath. They weren’t friends, not yet. And even if they became friends, that was all this could be. She wouldn’t jeopardize Kaylie’s relationship with her father by starting her own relationship with the man. Alex’s next words made her squeeze her eyes closed to repeat that promise to herself once more. Twice.
“And she’s way more than okay. She’s just about perfect.”
Still, his words echoed in her mind.
“I FORGOT TO call them.” Alison closed the sliding door softly behind her, apology written all over her face. “And it was such a perfect excuse, too.”
“They’re here?” Paige took a step away from Alex, who was suddenly way too close for comfort. The butterflies took up residence in her belly again, but this time for an entirely different reason.
Her parents stepped through the door holding hands with Kaylie, who was chattering about her leap to the trapeze.
Angry with her choice at first, Hank and Dot Kenner were trying to build a solid relationship with Kaylie. They came to the Sunday barbecues, school events and birthday parties. Conversations centered around Kaylie, and most of the time Paige could forget that for the first twenty-four years of her life they were either absent or controlling her every move.
They were trying with Kaylie, Paige reminded herself, and that meant something.
Hank was tall and overdressed for a backyard barbecue, but then when was he not? Even during summer break from the university in St. Louis he wore the same checked shirts, bow ties and tweed sport coats that he wore to teach constitutional law to second-year candidates. Paige’s mother, Dot, wore a geometric print dress with deep reds and oranges as the base colors. She focused her attention on Kaylie as she told the story of her leap from the swings. Afterward, Dot turned an accusing gaze toward Paige, who forced herself to unclench her hands.
“You let this child jump from a swing set to a trapeze?” She said the words as if Kaylie had been BASE jumping from the St. Louis Arch without a parachute.
Paige indicated the small swing set in the next yard. “No broken bones. Kids jump—”
Dot interrupted, gripping Kaylie’s little hand tighter. “She could have—” her gaze dropped to Kaylie “—B-R-O-K-E-N her neck.” She spelled out the offending word.
Kaylie squinted her eyes at her grandmother. “B is for bat. And ball. And bunches of grapes,” she said, pulling her hand from Dot’s grasp. She plucked her juice cup from Dot’s other hand and wandered off, chattering about more B words. “And bear. And bling. And br-r-ring me a cookie,” she said, giggling at herself.
Paige watched as Kaylie climbed onto one of the lawn chairs, crossed her legs at the ankle and sipped her drink. She really was the best kid.
“She didn’t break anything, Mother,” Paige said, keeping her voice calm. Level.
“It was irresponsible.”
“It was childhood,” Paige insisted despite the fact she’d had nearly the same reaction as her mother when Kaylie was midflight. But thinking something was different from wrapping her daughter up in bubble wrap for the next five years or insisting that she never swing or climb on a jungle gym.
“Okay, well, we have barbecue chicken coming from the oven in just a few minutes. I’ll just run inside and grab a few extra place settings. Mr. and Mrs. Kenner, can I get you something to drink?” Alison said, in an attempt to ease the tension between Paige and her parents. Paige sent her a thankful glance. Alison had been caught between them for nearly as long as Paige could remember. Hank and Dot waved off the offer of drinks, but Alison kept going toward the sliding glass door. “You’ll help me, won’t you, Joe?” She looked at Tuck, who was drinking the last of his beer.
“Joe?” she said again. Tuck’s blue eyes widened in surprise when he realized Alison was talking about him. “Could you help me in the kitchen, sweetie?”
“Ah, sure, sweetie.” He straightened his six-foot-plus frame from the deck post.
The two of them disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Paige with her parents and Alex.
There was just no way to explain to Dot and Hank who Alex was without ruining Paige’s plans. Paige’s actions frequently met with disapproval from her parents. When Paige first decided to use a fertility clinic, they’d told her she would make her child abnormal. Their opinion had gradually softened as Kaylie stole their hearts, but Paige still saw flickers of condemnation in their eyes from time to time.
She was not telling her parents exactly who Alex was. Not now. Not when her mother was working her way up to a full-blown migraine after less than five minutes. Alex deserved better than a full-on Dot Meltdown.
Alex cleared his throat behind her and she realized she was standing between him and her parents like some kind of guardian. Maybe she was. Hank and Dot might be doing a good job with grandparenting, but they were anything but picture-perfect parents.
Paige motioned from Alex to her parents and back again. “Hank and Dot Kenner, this is Alex Ryan. He’s a—”
“Friend,” Alex interrupted before Paige had the chance to say anything else. Which was good because her mind blanked when she realized she had no idea how to introduce him. “Uh, Joe and I can’t resist good barbecue.”
Dot grabbed Paige’s upper arm and turned her away from Alex. “You’re on a date with Kaylie ten feet away?” Dot faux-whispered the words, as if Alex might be deaf as well as gorgeous.
“Yes, Mother, and we were thinking about going inside to do the dance with no pants—” she used her mother’s least favorite sex slang despite feeling like a rebellious child for doing so “—and leaving