Surprise Dad (12 page)

Unable to stop himself, he walked over and slipped his arms around her waist. “Daniel says I have to take you and Brian to New York. Naturally, I hate the idea, but I was wondering…”

Her eyes sparkled at him. “I hate the idea, too. I mean, what an imposition to have to go to New York.” Then she laughed. “I’d love to. There’s so much I could do there with Brian.”

“And with me?” Mike kissed her lips lightly, then to stop himself from doing more, he moved back toward the door. “Okay, then, it’s a date.”

When he got downstairs, he called Richard Stein at Abernathy Foods, who seemed wary. Mike knew why—he assumed Mike was canceling again.

And he sounded so relieved that the opposite was true, that Mike was bringing along an entourage and a freight container of baby supplies, it appeared that he was willing to buy the St. Regis if it would make Mike comfortable.

“We’ve already booked a suite for you,” he crowed.
“Wanted you to feel at home. Three bedrooms? Will that do it?”

“Of—”

“So it’s just a matter of two more plane tickets.”

“Brian’s eight, no, nine months old,” Mike said. “He doesn’t need a ticket.”

Stein chuckled warmly. “My boy,” he said, “when I was younger and poorer, my wife and I took several flights handing a squirming baby back and forth, and if you do that, you won’t be fit to talk business.”

So it was a done deal. In a few days, he and Allie and Brian were off on an adventure. It would be great as long as nobody got hurt by getting too close to each other, then suddenly being torn apart by distance and responsibilities.

A thought hit him hard. Brian could get hurt, too, if Allie, always there, suddenly wasn’t.

T
HE
N
EW
Y
ORK
trip settled, Mike returned to the kitchen, feeling optimistic about the upcoming meetings. A few hours later, the squeal of tires caught his attention. Maury, who’d evolved into the star blocker of the football team, arrived at the restaurant late each afternoon with tires screeching. Today they sounded as if they had a life expectancy of about two weeks.

“Problem?” Mike inquired.

“Of course there is,” Maury moaned. “The first game’s tomorrow night.”

“I know
that
,” Mike said. “Everybody knows that, and the whole valley’s looking for a win. Is that causing you a problem?”

“It means I can’t be here at all.”

“Of course not,” Mike said. “You’ll be too sweaty.”
When Maury gave him a disgusted look, he added, “We have our interns to help out.”

“I know.” That one came out as a groan.

Mike had to hide his smile. He had observed that while he’d expected Maury to learn from the interns, Maury seemed to be teaching them.

“Don’t worry. Our customers will forgive us anything if you win the game.” Mike grinned at him. Maury knew he wasn’t hung up on winning, wouldn’t be upset if the team tanked.

Turning to his work, his back to Mike, Maury said, “I wish you could be there.”

“Me, too.” Suddenly a thought occurred to him. “You know,” he said slowly. “Maybe I can.”

Maury spun. “No way,” he said. “You can’t. You have to keep an eye on—”

“The interns, yes, but I’m also under orders to do cool things with Brian,” Mike said, “and I think he’s ready for his first football game.” He cleared his throat and deepened his voice. “Can’t start too early on those manly things.”

On this note, he called Daniel back. After explaining that yes, Allie and Brian were coming with him to New York, so Daniel and Ian could just get off his back, he said, “You guys must be going to Maury’s game.”

“All of us,” Daniel said. “We’ll fill up a quarter of the seats.”

“I was thinking I might take Brian.”

“Good,” Daniel said. “Make a jock out of him early.”

“No,” Mike said, “a loyal Bulldog
fan
.”

“You can get away on a Friday night?”

“If I work my tail off getting the prep work done and then try not to think about the final results, because I
don’t think Maury and I have ever been away from the diner at the same time.”

“We’ll hold down a couple of rows in the bleachers. Plenty of room for the three of you.”

Mike bit his lip. To his family, it was a given that Allie would come along. “I haven’t asked Allie yet.”

“She’ll want to come,” Daniel said. “I’m sure of it.”

Yeah, he was sure she’d say yes, too, which made him very happy.

A
LLIE’S DAY
was getting better and better. The glow she felt inside was starting to flame into pure ecstasy. “I’d love to see the game,” she said. “And I’m so glad we’re going to New York with you. I know you’ll be busy, but Brian and I are making plans of our own.”

“I hope you don’t get bored.” Mike sighed.

“Bored in New York? Not possible. There are museums meant for kids, and just walking around the city he’ll see and hear so many new things. He’ll probably love the subway.”

“You’ll have to order in from room service,” Mike said. “I’m sure you’d be more than welcome to go to dinner with us, but Brian could reduce a top-flight restaurant to a beanery with one well-aimed bread plate.”

Allie nodded. “It’s a terrifying thought. Don’t worry. Brian and I will have a great time.”

How could she not have a great time? She’d be with her two favorite men.

“H
E CAN’T HAVE
popcorn,” Mike said nervously before he’d even sat down beside Daniel’s youngest foster boy, Nick, to give his shoulders a quick squeeze.

“Hey, Uncle Mike. Hey, Brian.”

Soon all of the boys were saying hi to Brian. Ian was
lined up on the bleachers with Daniel’s boys and Lilah’s son. The oldest, Jason, was flanked by two very pretty girls, his own steady girlfriend and Becky’s daughter. Maury had a date! Jason took Brian from Daniel, said something to him that made Brian giggle, then grab Jason’s hair with such ferocity it made Mike wince.

The girls were delighted. Jason was wearing a look Mike was familiar with, the look of a teenage boy who’s in the middle of something “cute,” and he doesn’t do “cute.”

Maury was in the locker room, of course, undoubtedly wondering not how the game would turn out, but how the beef carbonnade would turn out.

The stadium consisted of a regulation-size field with banks of bleachers on each side. Not a bad seat in the place. Didn’t need them with a total of five hundred fans—from both high schools.

Mike glanced around for Allie and saw that she’d slipped away to visit with Lilah. He hoped she’d come back, because he felt an empty spot beside him. And suddenly there she was, saying to Brian, “We’re going to sing our national anthem, so put your hand over your heart, like this.”

The game began. It was a great night, huge moon, stars everywhere. They hardly needed the field lights. It felt a bit cold, the way autumn should feel, and Mike began to relax, settle in, consider the possibility of having a good time.

He sighed. Sighing brought him closer to Allie. Her thigh touched his lightly. It was nice, soft, and warm. Everything about Allie was nice, soft, and warm.

He realized he was happy. Just think about that.

“Go Maury,” Allie cheered.

“Go Maury,” he shouted, leaping up. He hadn’t been
too out-of-it to see that Maury had just intercepted a pass and returned it for a touchdown.

“Mo,” Brian yelled, undoubtedly having no idea why Mike and Allie were yelling, but caught up in the general enthusiasm.

Mike was suddenly filled with an exuberance he didn’t know was inside him. “Brian, cheer for Maury! Mo,” he yelled.

Allie and Daniel’s whole crew stood up too. “Go, Mo,” they chanted.

Then a wonderful thing happened. Maury tipped his helmet up, looked into the stands and waved—directly toward Brian, who was shouting “Mo” at the top of his lungs. Maury beamed.

Daniel had his family, but Mike suddenly felt he had his family, too.

It was an amazing sensation.

“Do we have everything?” Mike surveyed the paraphernalia they’d piled to the side of the front door with a combination of amazement and pure horror. Allie had a small suitcase and a carry-on. He had a garment bag and a carry-on. For Brian, they were taking two sizeable suitcases, his folding stroller, a car seat and the inevitable diaper bag.

“We have everything except what we’ll realize we’ve forgotten when it’s too late,” Allie told him, “and it’s too late right now. The car’s here.” She gazed at it through the window. “I’ve never gone anywhere in a limousine.”

He had, but he’d never tell. “I appreciate the limousine right now,” he said. “I’m too tired to drive.”

She smiled at him. “Well, the first of the worst parts is over.”

“What do you mean, ‘the first of the worst parts’?”

“We’re packed, we’re dressed and Brian, for the moment, is clean and dry.”

“Thank the Lord for small blessings,” Mike murmured.

“Hear that, Brian?” Allie said, swooping Brian up into her arms. “You’re a small blessing.”

“When’s the next of the worst parts?” Mike asked
her while he loaded his arms with luggage and baby transportation.

“Well, there’s the trip to the plane, then waiting for the plane, there’s the flight itself, there’s the wet diaper, or worse, during the flight, there’s settling into the hotel…”

“Okay, okay, you’ve given me enough to dread for now. I’ll take this stuff out and come back for more.”

He went through the front door, and the driver rushed toward him. “I’ll take those, sir,” he said, snatching the two suitcases and the stroller out of Mike’s grip. He stashed them in the trunk and said, “Is there more?”

“Oh, yes,” Mike sighed.

“Seems you’re traveling with a baby.” The driver’s deadpan expression took on a faint smile. “I’ve been there, done that.”

“Are you relieved they’ve grown up?” Mike asked him.

“Nope,” the man said. “They were easier then.”

Mike groaned and led the way up the stairs.

Brian didn’t even make it to the airport with a dry diaper. Mike didn’t know the Burlington airport had porters, but one mysteriously appeared, pushing a cart, and while the driver loaded the luggage onto it, Allie went inside with Brian and the diaper bag to change him.

Mike, alone now with a full cart, waited for them. He saw Allie and Brian emerge from the women’s restroom, Brian flushed and happy, Allie perfectly serene. Did any kid ever have a more unflusterable nanny? Did any kid ever have a more beautiful nanny?

She came up to him, beaming in spite of the fact that her first words were, “I forgot the baby wipes. He’s fine for now. I’ll add them to my list.”

Her list. They’d left home two hours ago and she already had a list.

They checked in and rolled on to security. After Brian’s diaper bag had been dissected by the guards, one of them followed Allie’s carry-on down the conveyor belt, and giving her a soothing smile, said, “Ma’am, may I take a look inside your bag?”

Naturally they’d want to subject her to a random search. She looked every inch the terrorist, especially when she was holding Brian.

To his surprise, she blushed. “Of course,” she said, handed Brian over to Mike, and followed the man to a long counter, where he opened her bag. Mike followed with Brian, the diaper bag, and his shoes dangling from one hand. If Allie needed help, he’d be there for her, and he was there—when the guard delicately pulled from the carry-on something pink and so sheer that Mike had an idea he wasn’t supposed to see it yet, but could hardly wait until he did. Preferably on Allie.

“Okay, pal, help me put on my shoes,” he said, whisking Brian away before he embarrassed himself.

Allie joined them in a few minutes. “It was my cuff bracelet the machine zeroed in on,” she said. “The nice man decided not to arrest me for it.” She sounded stiff and formal, as if she were covering her embarrassment, so Mike didn’t do what he wanted to—wink at her and suggest she ought to be arrested for that pink whatever-it-was.

“They have to be careful these days,” he said, swallowing his smile and saying it with deadly seriousness.

When at last they were on the plane, divided by Brian in the middle seat, Mike got a glimpse of what it would be like to be a newlywed with a baby who woke up crying at inopportune moments. He’d imagined Allie
and him engaging in whispered conversation while a perfect baby slept soundly, even if he was between them, but under the current circumstances, there was no way he could get Allie’s attention.

The perfect baby wasn’t sleeping soundly. Brian wasn’t happy in his seat, since the plane looked like a fun place to crawl around in, and she was coaxing him to chew on a gummy-looking teething biscuit. Then she was making faces at him, which finally brought out a smile. The smile led to some embarrassingly loud screeches, which she quieted by singing, “Itsy Bitsy Spider.”

He glanced around the cabin. No one was looking at them, probably hoping that if they didn’t look at them, they’d go away.

“May I get you something to drink before the flight?” The attendant stood at his side, smiling not at him, but at Brian.

“Allie?” he said.

“I need more coffee,” she said.

“Two coffees.”

After the flight attendant moved on, Allie was busy again, getting Brian interested in his favorite clothbound book, the alphabet book.

“A is for Apple,” she hummed, pausing to outline the apple with her fingertip, then point to each letter.

Mike realized he’d have to act like a grown-up and wait his turn.

Mercifully, Brian soared into the air fearlessly, then immediately fell asleep with his head against—

Not Allie’s shoulder, but Mike’s.

“Look at him.” Her voice was soft and loving. “You have no idea what he’s been through in the last few hours. Us in a flurry, everything off-schedule, a strange car
with a strange man driving the car. A terminal changing room, a waiting room, the plane taking off—”

He hadn’t imagined that their whispered conversation would be about Brian, but her smile made him want to tease her. “I went through the same things,” he complained. “Nobody’s letting me sleep with my head on their shoulder.”

“You have to wait until we get to the hotel,” she said sternly.

“It won’t be easy.”

She flushed, looking young and innocent, which she was. His eyes drifted over her lovely face. She was innocent of the evil in the world. Innocent about hard times, selfish parents. He hoped she’d never lose that innocence, she’d never know sadness or fear. He’d never tell her about his own unhappiness, his loneliness, his feeling of not being loved that had made him lash out at the world to get attention. Or about the knots that twisted in his stomach at the slightest uncertainty. He wanted her to buy the person he appeared to be: cheerful, a regular stand-up guy, happy-go-lucky—at least until Brian came along—cool about everything, totally secure.

A strong man, which she thought he was. When, in fact, he was a ripe tomato, ready to burst at the slightest blow, just as the tomato at Mayhew’s Market had been.

As any gentleman would do, he engaged her in small talk, the news, national rather than LaRocque, small details about the restaurant and bigger details about Brian. Just as their conversation was about to turn personal, the pilot announced, “We’re starting our descent into JFK…”

Brian woke up, screaming, Allie swiftly pulled a
bottle out of the diaper bag and stuck it in his mouth, informing Mike that his ears probably hurt and sucking would help him get through it, and life was back to what he was starting to think of as normal—minus a place where he could bring down his blood pressure by cooking.

They landed. Mike had no problem finding their driver. Hard to miss your own name on a sandwich board the man wore around his neck.

“Have you checked luggage, Mr. Foster?” the man said, then took a look at Brian and said, “Yes, of course you have.”

Starting toward the baggage carousel, Allie said calmly, “Brian needs to be changed. Where shall I meet you?”

She left with Brian and the ever-present diaper bag while Mike and the driver waited for the luggage. “You have kids?” Mike asked him.

“Seven.”

Mike’s head reeled. “So you understand car seats and gigantic suitcases for a single twenty-four-pounder…”

“Yep.”

“Any babies now?”

“Nope.”

“Are you relieved that they’ve grown up?”

“Nope. They were easier then.”

It was the second time today he’d gotten the same bad news. He was feeling glum when Allie returned at last with Brian, who studied the driver and seemed to give him a grudging approval, although he clung to Allie, then held out his arms for his personal parking space, Mike’s left hip.

At last, when the driver had retrieved the car, had gone through an endless drill to pick them up outside the
terminal, crammed the trunk to its maximum capacity and wrestled the car seat into its moorings, they were on their way to the hotel. It was early afternoon, and Mike felt as if he’d fought a war singlehandedly and deserved six weeks of rest and rehabilitation. Allie, on the other hand, was pointing out buildings on the New York skyline to Brian.

Mike thought about her energy and his lack of it. He was a healthy, relatively young man. He could manage a full day at the restaurant, occasionally a night of getting started on a catering job, a day at the restaurant followed by the catering job itself, and not feel the least bit tired.

Now he was exhausted. It must have something to do with having a kid, but he was too tired to figure out what that something was.

They arrived at the hotel, which was like a palace. As they checked in, the clerk said, “We’ve put you in the Lucerne Suite,” he said, “very comfortable, and we hope you’ll feel at home there.”

It wasn’t until they were alone in the suite that Mike felt the full impact of the situation. He and Allie were away from LaRocque, where everybody knew everything about everybody else. It would be the first real privacy they’d ever had. He had no idea what these meetings with Abernathy would entail. He had no idea what privacy with Allie would do to his logical thinking. He just hoped he was up to it all.

A
LLIE STARED
disbelievingly at their home away from home. “This is amazing,” she said. “The last time I was in New York, I stayed in a room the width of a double bed and two nightstands. You couldn’t have the closet door and the bathroom door open at the same time.”

Mike grinned at her. “Want to explore?”

They wandered through the suite. The living room was larger than Mrs. Langston’s. Three bedrooms, two baths, small kitchen, and all of it beautifully furnished and decorated. “A starter home,” she said. “For a wealthy young couple, that is.”

Mike gave her a quick kiss. “I’d like to stick around, but I have to get to the Abernathy building in a hurry.” He grabbed his suitcase and vanished into one of the bedrooms.

She stood in the living room holding Brian and wondering where to start. By feeding him, of course. One look at the splendid chintz-covered armchairs in the living room motivated her to drag one of the wooden dining chairs that surrounded a small table into the kitchen, and there she fed Brian, grateful that her shirt was washable.

Mike came out of the bedroom while she was on her hands and knees mopping up puréed green beans from the marble floor. She looked up and gasped, then stood to take him in from head to toe. “I’ve never seen you in a suit,” she said.

He looked embarrassed. “Bought it for Daniel’s wedding.”

He was a vision in the navy suit. It hung perfectly from his broad shoulders, and the trousers, sharply creased, outlined his narrow hips in a way that stirred her blood.

“You look gorgeous.”

That seemed to embarrass him more. “Okay, gotta go. Will you and Brian be okay?”

If I can stop thinking about you.
“Of course.” Brian supported her by burbling assurance from the car seat she’d strapped him into while she cleaned up.

“Remember your new best friend, room service,” he reminded her. “I feel bad about not coming back for dinner.”

“A business dinner is important. The conversation will be less intense, more casual. You may learn more there than you will in their offices.” She straightened his tie.

“You think they’ll invite me to play golf?”

She laughed. “Eventually they will. Probably not on this trip.” She tweaked the handkerchief in his breast pocket.

“Good, because I don’t play golf. Bye, Brian,” he said, and gave the baby a kiss on the top of his head.

He held out his arms to gather Allie close, but she jumped back. “Green beans don’t match your outfit,” she said, pointing to her shirt.

Wearing a wry smile, he leaned over to give her a kiss, physically distant, maybe, but a lovely kiss nonetheless. “Wish me luck,” he said.

“Luck,” she whispered, her lips lingering on his. “It’ll go great.”

With a look she hoped was a longing one, he left.

How far he’d come since the morning he went down to the diner without kissing Brian or even telling him goodbye. She smiled. He wouldn’t be able to resist loving Brian like his own son.

Her smile faded. She hoped she could resist loving Mike just as much.

Remembering why she was here, she said, “Okay, Brian, a quick change and cleanup, and then we’ll take a walk! New York, New York, it’s a wonderful town,” she sang, and Brian chuckled.

“M
IKE
!”

Richard Stein seemed happy to see him.
Thrilled
would be a better word, even
ecstatic
. “Come right in,” he said. “We’ll have lunch and then get to work. Are your accommodations adequate?”

“Very pleasant,” Mike said, restraining himself from gushing.

“And the trip went well?”

Stein really didn’t want to hear cute baby stories, Mike was certain, so he said, “Yes, quite well, thank you,” and he smiled, graciously he hoped.

Lunch met his standards and then some. Abernathy Foods either had its own star chef or an excellent caterer. Six of them sat at the table, and they began giving him an overview of the company even before the snails were served. After lunch they really got down to business, and he began to long for Allie to be sitting at his side, her calm attitude and good judgment giving him strength.