MacCauley took one look at Charlie’s cast and said, “Oh, wow. Your cast is blue? That’s cool.”
The first smile of the day flickered across Charlie’s face.
“You think?”
“Oh, yeah,” Rip said, coming in and taking off his jacket. “I only ever had a white one.”
“Mine was purple when I broke my ankle,” Crash announced. “Here. This is for you.” He thrust a package wrapped in newspaper comics into Charlie’s hand.
“A little something to keep him busy,” Izzy told Daisy as the boys headed instinctively for the cars and the Legos on the floor and she followed Daisy into the kitchen. “Rip and Crash have been really worried. They seem to think they’re indestructible, but when Charlie got hurt, they were, like, ‘Oh, no! What if he dies?’ They felt very responsible. As well they should, Finn says.”
“Finn being such a pattern card of model behavior.” Daisy grinned.
Izzy laughed. “That’s what I said.” She perched on a bar stool while Daisy made them coffee. “I was amazed when Finn got home so quickly last night. Why didn’t you let him stay for a bit and help you with Charlie?”
“No point. We were fine.” And she was very glad he hadn’t been there to witness the meeting of Alex and his son.
“I’m sorry we interrupted your evening. How was the Plaza? Tell all.” Izzy leaned forward eagerly.
It took Daisy a moment to even begin to remember the details, so much had happened in the meantime. “It was … fine,” she said vaguely. “The Plaza is elegant, of course. The dinner was wonderful,” she added dutifully, because “fine” wasn’t going to satisfy Izzy.
“And the dress?”
“It was fantastic.”
“Knocked his socks off?” Izzy’s eyes were bright.
“It wasn’t supposed to knock his socks off,” Daisy reminded her. “He’s got a girlfriend.”
Izzy looked disappointed. But then she shrugged philosophically. “So you had a good time.”
Daisy did her best to sound bright and enthusiastic about the evening. She didn’t tell Izzy that Alex had turned up at the hospital. She didn’t mention anything that happened after that. Until she had some idea of what Alex intended, she wasn’t borrowing trouble—or discussing him with anyone.
She was glad Izzy and the boys came because it took the edge off Charlie’s boredom and irritability. The matchbox cars that Rip and Crash brought him were a big hit. But Daisy was, honestly, glad when they left again because it was hard to give the impression of cheerful equanimity when she felt edgy and stressed and as if her world was splintering into a million pieces. She left Charlie playing with his cars on the floor in the living room and retreated to the kitchen to wash up the cups and plates from the MacCauleys’ visit.
And then the doorbell rang.
“It’s Alex!” Charlie yelled, jumping up and running to the door.
Wiping nervous hands on the sides of her jeans, Daisy followed him to answer it. She dragged the door open a few inches and, as always, felt her heart do a somersault in her chest at the mere sight of him.
Gone, of course, was the formal wear of last evening. This afternoon Alex was in jeans and a hunter-green down jacket, his dark hair windblown and dusted with snowflakes, his jaw stubbled. His eyes were bloodshot, but they met hers squarely.
“Daisy.” His voice was soft but firm, and gravelly as if he hadn’t slept.
“Alex,” she replied, holding herself rigid, trying to relax, but unable to. Still she swallowed and tried to sound cordial and polite.
“Hi, Alex.” Charlie poked his head around to beam up at the man on the doorstep. “Come ‘n’ see my new cars.”
“Cars?” Alex grinned and stepped across the threshold.
Daisy backed up hastily. “Charlie’s much better,” she said as he brushed past. “You didn’t have to come.”
He gave her a look so intense it could have leveled buildings. “I wanted to come.” Then he turned his attention to Charlie. “You’re better, are you?” he said, his tone far lighter. “Good. I thought maybe we could go to the park.”
“The park?” Daisy echoed doubtfully.
But Charlie cheered. Obviously no one had told him he was an invalid.
“But let’s see your new cars first.” Alex was already shedding his jacket, dropping down onto the floor next to Charlie, making himself at home.
Charlie was clearly delighted to have the attention. He showed Alex the new set of Matchbox cars that Rip and Crash had given him. “Sports cars,” he told Alex eagerly. “They go really fast. See?” He raced them around on the floor, making car noises.
Alex stretched out his long legs and leaned back on an elbow, watching, not just indulgently, but with real interest. He picked up the cars by turn, examining them, commenting knowledgeably because, of course, he knew all about cars. It must come standard issue with the Y chromosome.
Daisy stood there, watching, unable to pull herself away. Seeing the two of them together—father and son—was something she’d barely ever dreamed of. Hearing Charlie’s eager chatter and Alex’s low baritone in reply set something deep inside her quivering, aching.
Wanting. Far too much.
Abruptly she wheeled away. “I’ll be upstairs,” she said. “I have work to do.”
He had come to see Charlie, not her. And while it was hardly an honest introduction to the demands of fatherhood, if he came looking for reinforcements in fifteen minutes, she’d know it wasn’t going to last.
Charlie came in half an hour later. “Alex an’ me want to go to the park. He says to ask if you want to go along.”
Annoyed that he would presume to decide what he and Charlie were going to do without consulting her, Daisy hurried downstairs.
The Legos and Matchbox cars had been neatly put away and Alex was zipping up his jacket. “Good,” he said. “You’re coming, too.”
“You don’t presume. You should have asked!”
“Charlie did ask.”
Charlie bobbed his head. “I said we wanted to go, and did you want to come.”
Daisy opened her mouth, then closed it again. “Fine,” she said shortly. “I’ll come.”
It was torture, seeing him with Charlie, being with him herself, acting as though they were some lovely happy family, all the while knowing it was a sham.
“Take it easy,” Alex said in an undertone as she jerkily shoved her arms into her jacket. “I’m not going to steal my son.”
My
